Category: English

In a fit of anger, I bought a train ticket and rushed back to my hometown overnight. But I never expected the train to enter some kind of time tunnel. I only slept for 8 hours on the train, yet fifteen whole years had passed in the outside world. “Your parents died ten years ago. Is there anyone else we can contact?” the police officer asked. Dead? Just the day before, I had talked to them on the phone. Mom even said she was going to make my favorite pizza. How could they be dead? I held back my tears and gave them my husband’s number. “Sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service…” The officer looked at me awkwardly. But the next second, I pointed at the giant screen on the building outside and said: “He can come get me! He’s my husband!” All the officers taking statements stopped what they were doing and stared at me in shock. This whole situation was truly bizarre, but looking at the bustling police station and the towering buildings outside, I had to accept that everyone on this train—over 300 people—had traveled through time. “Are you saying it’s really 2025?” “Yes, ma’am. Today is October 1st, 2025.” The female officer’s eyes were full of sympathy. I looked around in confusion. There were over 300 passengers on this train, all brought here for questioning. At first, not only did the police not believe us, we thought we’d been scammed. After all, we all looked exactly the same as when we boarded—how could fifteen years have passed in a single night? But faced with genuine ID cards and rapidly advanced technology, we had no choice but to accept reality. “So besides your parents, is there anyone else who can come pick you up?” On the verge of a breakdown, I instinctively gave them Torres’s number. But as soon as I said it, I regretted it. That man who promised to protect me for life had long since betrayed our marriage. “Sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service…” Out of service. So he canceled his phone number and got together with Mia, didn’t he? My heart ached for no reason, making my breathing rapid. After three years missing, you can be declared dead and automatically widowed. And I’d been missing for fifteen years. “Ma’am, if there’s really no one who can pick you up, then we can only…” “Him! He can come get me!” I pointed at the hundred-inch screen outside. Torres was on it, wearing a black suit. The scar on his forehead was from our senior year of high school, when he risked his life to protect me and got hit in the head with a beer bottle by some thugs. Back then, his eyebrow was permanently missing a corner, and he radiated an aura that said “don’t mess with me.” He was rough around the edges, and no girl could get close to him except me. He was completely different from the refined gentleman on that screen. But now he seemed like a perfect match for Mia—the rebel finally met the cool, aloof woman who could tame him. But why should I, the legitimate wife, end up being the mistress! So I refused to contact anyone else. I wanted Torres to come get me. I wanted to wedge myself into their loving relationship at its peak, to disgust them both. Just like they did to me—one second letting me bask in the joy of a happy marriage, the next forcing me to tear that dream apart with my own hands. “Are you… sure?” The female officer looked at me with some concern. At the same time, every officer in the station stopped what they were doing and looked at me with disbelief. Some were mocking, some envious. This scene confirmed my suspicions—Torres was doing well now. Or rather, he’d become a big shot, which was why he could appear on that giant screen. “I’m sure. Before I got on that train, he was still my legal husband.” Seeing my determination, the officer could only comply. Torres wasn’t easy to reach now. The officer made calls and contacted supervisors, and an hour later the call finally went through. But the voice on the other end wasn’t his.

“Hello, this is the MT Group CEO’s office. How may I help you?” MT. Marta? Why would he name his company using my initials? Did he still have feelings for me? “Hello, this is the police station. We need to speak with Torres. Please transfer the call.” “Beep, beep, beep… Hello?” Only ten seconds passed, but it felt like ten years. Hearing that familiar voice on the other end, my heart jumped into my throat. What if he looked at me with disgust? What if he really had married Mia and had children! I suddenly regretted this. I shouldn’t have acted so impulsively. “Is this Mr. Torres? This is the police station,” the officer asked. “Yes, how can I help you?” I nervously picked at my nails, holding my breath, shoulders hunched, not daring to look at the officer, but my attention was completely on that phone call. “This may sound strange, but I need you to trust me. We’ve found Ms. Marta, who went missing fifteen years ago. She’s right here beside me, and we need you to come pick her up.” He seemed shocked, as he didn’t respond for a long time. The ticking of the second hand fell into my heart, and everything around me seemed to slow down. Just as my face turned red from holding my breath and I was about to give up— “No need…” “Alright, I’ll be there shortly.” I breathed a sigh of relief and sat quietly in the chair, watching as passengers were gradually picked up by their families. Some wept with joy and embraced each other, while others glared at each other with resentment. It seemed there were quite a few people in situations like mine. Many spouses had given up searching in the second year of our disappearance and started new families. So our reappearance became a burden and inconvenience. This made me nervous again. When I saw Torres, how should I face him? Would he blame me for disrupting his current life? Extreme anxiety clouded my mind, so much so that I didn’t even notice when it got dark outside. “Why don’t you come home with me for now?” the officer suggested kindly. I looked around in confusion and realized all the passengers were gone. I was the only one left with no one to claim me. “Tap, tap, tap!” Urgent footsteps echoed in the hallway, and then a tall young man walked toward me, holding a yellowed photograph. “Are you Marta?” I nodded. “I’m so sorry, there was traffic. I just arrived. Torres sent me to pick you up.” Not seeing Torres, I felt a bit disappointed, yet also unconsciously relieved. The procedure for claiming someone was simple—just sign a form. Marta—Mark. But the person signing in the column next to my name was a man I’d known for less than a minute. Not a father, not a husband. “This way, please.” Following Mark’s lead, I came to a black sedan. Should it still be called a sedan? Though it was bigger and better-looking than the cars from our time. I didn’t expect Torres to be sitting in the car. Just like on the giant screen, he wore a black suit and tie, meticulous and focused, his hands swiping at some kind of technological device. Memory suddenly took me back to when we were preparing for our wedding. He was naturally free-spirited and hated constraints—with people and with clothes. Getting him to wear a suit for our wedding photos took several days of coaxing. If I hadn’t finally said “If you won’t wear it, I’ll find someone else to marry,” he probably would have shown up shirtless at the wedding. Now I think maybe the first time he wore a suit wasn’t for me. Mia was the famous good girl and model student in our department. At first, I never thought the rebellious Torres could win her over. But three months later, they really got together. For her, Torres not only abandoned the brothers who had followed him for years, but also shaved his head, wore a newsboy cap, and pretended to be a good student. Why do I say “pretended”? Because I knew “wild” was in his bones, so his romance with Mia only lasted a month. I’d known him since childhood. To me, he’d only been absent from my life for one month, and then we naturally got together, all the way to marriage, all the way to our anniversary, when I saw him walking with Mia. My thoughts returned to the present. Mark had already opened the back door for me. “Marta is here.” Hearing the reminder, Torres finally looked up at me. Our eyes met. Not the joy or disgust I’d imagined. Just calm.

“Marta?” Yesterday morning I’d kissed this face, but now it felt so unfamiliar. “Yeah.” I nodded and sat beside him. The cramped space immediately made the atmosphere subtle. He remained focused on his work, no small talk, no awkward silence. My appearance seemed to create no ripples in his heart. This made me feel dejected. Come on, even if you hate me and want to kick me out, you should at least say it to my face. So I chose to take the initiative: “When my parents died, did they know you cheated on me?” “Hiss!” Someone sucked in a cold breath. The air pressure in the car plummeted. Though the car was sealed, I suddenly felt cold. I didn’t miss Torres’s slightly furrowed brow, or the flash of anger in his eyes. Was he angry that I’d labeled his beloved Mia as a mistress? “That never happened. Naturally, they didn’t know.” “Rest well today. Another day I’ll take you to pay respects to them.” Never happened? So he meant that he and Mia broke it off after I disappeared? Then why did Mark call me “Ms. Marta” instead of “Mrs.”? The atmosphere froze again. I suppressed my anger and refused to look at him, turning instead to the outside world. The dazzling commercial district, and skyscrapers reaching into the clouds. Everywhere I looked, countless giant screens glowed in broad daylight. The celebrities looked like they were standing inside them. The entire world existed in a kaleidoscope of colors. “Honey, honey, what is that!” I instinctively patted Torres’s hand, pointing at a giant cube outside the car window. A massive hand suddenly extending from it scared me. By the time I reacted, my head had already buried itself in Torres’s chest. His body stiffened. He didn’t touch me or push me away. “Sorry, I’m not used to my current status yet.” My face flushed red instantly. I quickly sat back, but afraid of that giant hand appearing again, I sneakily glanced out the window. The giant hand had disappeared. A forest had appeared inside instead. “That’s 3D technology. It gives people an immersive experience.” He patted the sleeve I’d grabbed, still looking at whatever was in his hands without expression. Probably work content. “So it’s fake?” “Yes.” After about another half hour, the car stopped. Outside was a magnificent castle. “Ms. Marta, we’ve arrived at the hotel. You can rest well here tonight.” So he hadn’t come to take me home. “I’m not going anywhere. I just want to go home. Torres, take me home!” I said angrily. That house was bought with my parents’ life savings. Even if he remarried, he couldn’t be living there with Mia. Even if he really was leaving me, he should at least explain things clearly!

Perhaps hearing the anger in my voice, he finally put down what he was holding and faced me properly. “I’m sorry, the old house was demolished and redeveloped. Stay here tonight, and tomorrow I’ll take you to choose a house you like, okay?” Mark also tried to persuade me: “That’s right, all the old houses were demolished. It’s a shopping mall now. You’ve had a long day—why not just make do here tonight?” Another shopping mall! I got out of the car and slammed the door hard. I wanted to part ways with him right then and there, but Mark didn’t lead the way. Just as I was confused, Torres got out of the car too. I thought he was going to explain, but he just walked past me toward the hotel entrance. “What’s he doing?” I asked Mark in confusion. “The CEO has to inspect a nearby branch office early tomorrow morning, so he’s staying at the hotel tonight too.” “Oh, in the room next to yours.” What’s there to explain? It’s not like I wanted to sleep in the same room as him. I followed behind him irritably. When I entered the spacious, bright lobby, the luxurious decor left me in awe. Being rich must be nice—you can stay in royal castles. I remember when Torres and I were dating, we’d stayed overnight somewhere too—a run-down inn with a creaky wooden bed. In that environment, we gave ourselves to each other. Though we were poor, we only had eyes and hearts for each other. Not like now. Even though the floor beneath my feet had been carefully cleaned and polished by others, the person standing on it wasn’t the same person anymore. “You’re staying in this room. If you need anything, feel free to call me. There’s a landline by the bed.” The room prepared for me was huge, several times larger than our wedding apartment. There were many things inside I’d never seen before—tiles that produced water just by waving your hand, hot drinks that prepared themselves when you spoke, a huge bed you could sink into just by stepping on it. Everything was so luxurious, so perfect, yet my heart ached unbearably. The emotions I’d suppressed all day suddenly released. Tears fell uncontrollably. “Dad, Mom, Torres betrayed me. He betrayed me!” In one night, I’d lost not only my lover but also my parents. Why? Why did they have to be seen together that day? If I hadn’t gotten on that train, would my mom and dad have come back? I don’t know how long I cried. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. “Who is it!” “It’s me.” Torres? I quickly stood up to compose myself, wiping my face with water, but the tile thing wouldn’t work. Then suddenly a curtain of water poured down from above. “Ah!” By the time I reacted, I was soaked through and had fallen down. “Ding!” The sound of the door unlocking came, and then Torres appeared before me. “What happened!” I looked at him with red eyes, and finally couldn’t hold back my tears. Crying, I said: “I just wanted to wash my face, but I’m not used to the things here. I’m not used to you either!” “Why? Why did I just sleep, and when I woke up everything had changed!” “Wah wah wah!” In the past, whenever I cried, Torres would magically produce candy from his pocket to comfort me. This time was no exception. Looking at the candy before me, I was momentarily surprised. Sometimes I really wondered if he knew magic—otherwise why did he always have candy in his pocket, yet I’d never seen him eat any. “You have sensitive skin. I brought you cotton clothes and left them outside. Eat the candy and go change, so you don’t catch cold. I’ll clean up here.” So he still remembered. I took the candy from his hand, tore open the wrapper and put it in my mouth. The sweet taste instantly filled my mouth. My favorite strawberry flavor. When I finished changing, he’d already prepared hot water and toothpaste for me. Just like every morning after our marriage, except back then I was the one preparing them for him. “Get some rest early after washing up. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. If you need anything, just call me.” “Did you and…” Did you and Mia get together? The words reached my lips but I couldn’t say them. Forget it, whether they’re together or not, I’ll find out eventually. That night I slept deeply, almost until morning. When I woke up, there was a brand-new dress on the nightstand—the one I couldn’t bear to buy from the store window fifteen years ago. And his figure was long gone from the couch. The company name, strawberry-flavored candy, the dress I’d wanted for so long. So he still loved me, right! Maybe yesterday I was mistaken. Maybe he and Mia weren’t as close as they appeared. Maybe they just ran into each other at the mall. Realizing this, I suddenly felt excited. I wanted to find him quickly and ask clearly. As long as I asked clearly, all of this could pass. He would still be the Torres who only loved me! I quickly washed up and left the room. Mark was waiting right outside the door. “Good morning. Torres instructed me to take you to the restaurant to find him when you woke up.” “Okay, thank you.” When I reached the restaurant, I spotted Torres immediately. But someone else was sitting beside him—Mia. Even after fifteen years, she was still so beautiful and elegant. This made my heart tremble. “Marta? Is that really you!” Seeing me arrive, Torres didn’t look up, but Mia enthusiastically greeted me, walked over and took my hand, examining me carefully. And I just happened to see the dazzling gemstone ring on her right ring finger. No, Marta, calm down. Fifteen years have passed. Everyone should have gotten married. Maybe they’re just friends now! Pull yourself together, Marta. Torres clearly still has feelings for you! Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile to face her. But the next second, Mark’s words sent me straight to hell. He said: “Good morning, Mrs. Torres. Ms. Marta will be in your care today.”

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After seven years of a long-distance marriage with River Dustin, I finally got pregnant. I quit my job and went downstairs to his company building, planning to surprise him. “Honey, where are you?” Seeing him come out, I called out excitedly. “Just got off work. What’s up?” His voice was warm. I was about to wave when I saw a pregnant woman walking out behind him. He turned, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her on the mouth. Then he said into the phone. “Something came up. I’ll call you back.” The line went dead. I stood in the cold wind, tears streaming down my face, falling onto the pregnancy test report in my hand. My blood pressure spiked. My vision went black, and my exhausted body drifted down like a leaf. Before I lost consciousness completely, I thought I heard a woman’s startled cry. I barely caught the shock and panic on River’s face. When I woke, I was in the hospital. River sat on a sofa across the room, staring intently at a report in his hands. Dressed in a suit. Polished. Refined. Nothing like the low-level office worker he’d pretended to be. Seeing me open my eyes, the woman enthusiastically approached me. “You’re awake! I’m Summer Fields. You fainted from low blood sugar last night.” “The doctor said you just got pregnant, and your condition is very unstable. You can’t run around alone.” “Where’s your husband? Why isn’t he with you?” The woman’s voice was sweet, with an unconscious lilt. She was clearly already pregnant, yet she still radiated the aura of an innocent girl who knew nothing of the world. I could tell she’d been very well taken care of. Worlds apart from me, who haggled loudly with vendors at the farmers market over a few cents. “He’s dead.” Dead in my heart. Dead the moment I saw the truth. As soon as I spoke, a burning gaze shot toward me from across the room. I stubbornly and silently turned my head away. I didn’t want to look pitiful, but my eyes still reddened despite myself. “Oh no, don’t cry! You just got pregnant, you need to take good care of yourself!” “River said that when you’re pregnant, you can’t cry, can’t get angry, can’t do housework, and also can’t…” Summer bit her blood-red lips, trying hard to remember, and finally had to turn to River for help. “Honey, I forgot…what else am I not allowed to do?” That word made my chest tighten. Something flickered in River’s eyes, just briefly. Then his expression softened into that familiar, doting look he saved for Summer. “Silly. You also can’t eat crab, can’t get cold, and definitely no coffee every day.” “What! I don’t even drink coffee. I’m a milk tea girl!” Summer wrinkled her nose and hummed coquettishly, blaming River for forgetting her preferences. But I understood. That last sentence was actually meant for me. After all, I loved gulping down cup after cup of coffee when pulling all-nighters on reports, just so I could get ahead faster and transfer to the city where he was. But now it seemed that all that desperate effort and struggle was just a joke. Even this kind of casual concern came as an afterthought while he was loving another woman. My chest ached unbearably. I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. I threw back the covers to get out of bed. River’s body moved, but ultimately he didn’t stand up. Instead, it was Summer who hurried over to stop me. “Where are you going? You’re not worried about the money because this is a VIP room, are you?” “Don’t worry, my husband is the richest man in New York. This little bit of money is nothing to him.”

“The richest man in New York?” My movement froze. I looked up in disbelief. This person who was supposedly drowning in debt, forcing me to stay and work thousands of miles away while taking care of his seriously ill parents for seven years-he was the richest man in New York? “That’s right!” Summer looked completely proud. She pulled out her phone, searched for old news articles, and held it up to me. “See? Seven years ago, when we had our arranged marriage, he was already the richest man in New York.” “Not that I don’t deserve some credit. I did bring a very generous amount of money.” I took the phone. My breath caught as I read the headlines. “A Real-Life Fairytale! The Century Wedding of the Heir and Heiress That Shocked the City!” “From Empire to Legacy: River Dustin and Summer Fields’ Romantic Alliance. A Modern-Day Love in a Fallen City!” At the bottom of the article was a date I recognized. It was the same time he insisted on moving to New York without discussion. The only time we ever had a cold war. So that argument was premeditated. So when I couldn’t sleep all night, clutching my phone and crying over him, he was sweating on top of another woman. So in this marriage, I… was actually the one who came later. Sourness and grief rose in my throat without warning. I choked up and began to dry-heave uncontrollably. The sound seemed to affect Summer too. Her stomach turned, and she started feeling sick. “Honey…” “Doctor! Help!” Before she finished speaking, River pulled her into his arms. Several doctors rushed in from outside, pushing a wheelchair, anxiously taking her out of the room. The surroundings instantly became empty. I vomited bile, tears dripping onto the floor, but only the hospital room door swayed mockingly in the wind. I still remembered when we got married, River knelt before my mother’s grave and swore he would take care of me for the rest of his life. But it turned out even his vows were lies. I collapsed weakly onto the bed. I don’t know how long passed before River came back alone. As if nothing had happened, he sat by my bed and carefully, patiently peeled a green apple. “Eat some of this. It’ll help a lot with morning sickness.” The sweet and sour aroma spread through the air. But by the time it reached my nose, only bitterness remained. This was probably also something he learned little by little while taking care of Summer. “Who are you? Do I know you?” “Should I call you River Dustin, or Mr. Dustin?” I looked at him with sad mockery. The air fell silent for a few seconds. River sighed softly and admitted it without hesitation. “Yes, I lied to you. So what?” “I’m the sole heir to the Dustin Group. You’re a scholarship kid from some small town with no connections. We were never on the same page. How could they ever have accepted us?” “Isn’t this better? You’re still the one I love most, and I’m still playing the devoted husband.” “Can’t you be understanding and sympathize with my position?” Good husband? I looked at him in disbelief. For the sake of ridiculous lies, making me give up a high-level management job in New York and trapping me in a small county town thousands of miles away-that’s being a good husband? Making me revolve around a three-foot stove like a clueless donkey who only wanted to be a good housewife-that’s loving me? How absurd. I dodged his hand reaching to fix my hair, suppressing my nausea, and responded coldly. “We’re divorcing immediately.” He refused without a second thought. “No.” “Then I’ll report you for bigamy! I’ll have you thrown in jail! That should get us divorced!” I could no longer control myself and screamed hysterically. But he just looked at me and shook his head lightly, his voice floating into my ears. “Ember, you can’t report me.”

“Why?” I gripped the sheets tightly, an answer emerging in my mind. Sure enough. The next second I heard him say. “Because the marriage certificate is fake, the parents are fake, and the friends and family at the wedding were fake too.” “Everything was carefully arranged by me.” “Ember, how are you going to report me?” His tone was too calm, as if discussing what to have for lunch tomorrow. But my heart grew colder and colder. How could the boy who once knelt before 31 floors and 186 households during the pandemic, just to get me half a tablet of ibuprofen-how could he lie to me? When my mother was hospitalized for three years, he was the one who stayed by her side day and night. He saved the sweetest part of the watermelon for me, and only bought new clothes for me. Even the pictures of snakes, insects, and toads in textbooks were folded over page by page because I was afraid of them. But now he personally told me. Everything I cherished most was all fake. “Fine, then I’ll leave right now and stay far away from you for the rest of my life. That should be okay, right?” His dark eyes held mine for a long time. Then he pulled me into his arms and kissed me like a storm, as if trying to melt me into his bones. No matter how I struggled, he wouldn’t let go. Then a knock came at the door. “Mr. Dustin, your wife is here.” “Mm.” He lifted his head, breathing unsteady. I slapped him without hesitation. He caught my wrist and, eyes red, pressed his lips to my palm. “Don’t tell Summer about us. You can’t bear the consequences.” “She wants you to accompany her for maternity photos tomorrow. Be good and go, or she won’t be happy.” Every word was a command. He quickly straightened his clothes and turned to leave. Outside the door were bodyguards, and inside I soon received a transfer notification. Two million dollars. This amount used to be so unattainable for me. But now it was just his most insignificant means of pleasing Summer. Early the next morning, I was picked up and brought to a photography studio. As soon as I went upstairs, I saw River massaging Summer’s calves and rubbing her feet, while the surrounding staff members looked on enviously. I stood frozen in place, suddenly remembering long ago. River had studied massage techniques on his phone for ages, giving me relaxation massages every night just to relieve my headaches and back strain. Back then, I thought his love and tenderness were mine alone. I truly believed we would grow old together. I never imagined I’d one day watch him be tender with another woman. And I was the “other woman,” standing by. The ache in my chest nearly swallowed me. My eyes reddened. I lowered my head. But Summer called me over cheerfully. “Ember, you’re finally here! Help me pick which sets to shoot!” I pointed at random in the album. Summer’s face fell. “What should I do? Ember likes this set, but I still want to shoot the other one more.” Hearing this, River immediately took away the album, directly tearing out the photo I had chosen, and kissed her forehead indulgently. “It’s okay. What she thinks doesn’t matter. What matters is what you like.” “There, now it’s settled. Have her choose again.” Summer laughed coquettishly and put the album in front of me again, looking at me expectantly. I looked at that intimate couple’s photo, my finger slowly reaching out, heavily tapping on it. That phrase “doesn’t matter” kept echoing in my ears. So it was because he felt my feelings didn’t matter that River could lie to me without scruple and ask me to compromise without a care. In this relationship, he had always held the upper hand. And I never had a say. Summer walked off, satisfied, to change. I sat on the sofa, staring blankly as River posed for her camera.

He kissed her swollen belly, his face full of happiness. He held her, showing the ultrasound to the camera, his possessiveness fierce. He wore cute outfits he’d never tried before, cooperating with her playful poses. The scenes were warm and sweet. In the non-stop flashing lights, I suddenly saw the scene of taking wedding photos with River. The photos were simple, just a few taken with a phone. He wore a gray-black cotton coat, I wore a cheap veil. Even though we were freezing in the cold wind, blowing white puffs of breath, our faces were full of sweetness. Snowflakes filled the sky, growing old together. To me back then, that was happiness, that was fulfillment. But now, that phantom I thought I had firmly grasped had finally shattered. “Ember, come quick and help me see which of these two is better!” Summer summoned me again. River quietly cast his gaze on me. I braced myself on my stiff, numb legs and stood, then walked into the changing room. Only Summer and I were left inside. “Ember, how do you think our photoshoot went?” Her tone carried an edge I didn’t catch at first. “What?” “Nothing.” She still smiled sweetly at me. But as her arm reached for the clothing rack, all the gorgeous, exquisite dresses came crashing down. Heavy steel poles all smashed onto my lower back. She screamed and backed away, drawing people from outside. “Summer! Where are you!” “River, I’m here! Come save me!” River immediately rushed over and protected her pale face in his arms. Just as he was about to have the bodyguards help me, he heard her weak voice. “River… my belly…” She fainted after speaking, and River quickly scooped her up. But my abdomen felt severe stabbing pain. I desperately reached toward him, using all my strength to call his name. His jaw tensed. He clearly heard me, but he never looked back. Blood quickly stained the wedding dress hem. I clearly felt my abdomen gradually growing cold, until something was pulled out of my body. I don’t know how long passed before I woke from the nightmare. Summer’s smiling face came into view, very similar to the scene when I first entered the hospital. But this time, her eyes held a scheming I couldn’t understand. “Illegitimate children have equal inheritance rights. Do you really think I’d let you give birth to this child?” My pupils contracted sharply. I pressed my belly in disbelief. The scene of blood everywhere before I fainted kept flashing in my mind. “You knew… the baby… my baby…” Seven years ago, the doctor diagnosed me with blocked fallopian tubes, making it almost impossible for me to have children. And this baby gave me my only chance to be a mother! But… “The baby’s gone, isn’t it! My baby is gone!” I broke down crying and shouting. But Summer calmly closed her eyes and gently pressed her finger to her lips. “Shh, not enough yet.” She supported herself and slowly sat on the floor, smiling triumphantly at me. The next second, she let out a piercing scream. River happened to return with the little cake she wanted. He burst through the door and carefully helped her up. “Summer, what’s wrong!” “Ember said I killed her baby, so she deliberately pushed me and wants my baby to pay with its life! What should I do? I really didn’t mean to!” Summer turned back into that innocent, pitiful appearance. River looked up fiercely and condemned me without hesitation. “You couldn’t protect your own child, and you dare blame Summer! Someone, send her to Nightshade Auction!” “No! River Dustin, I have nothing to do with you. You have no right to do this!” Everyone knew Nightshade was New York’s biggest den of vice. Women sent there for auction were either gang-raped to disability or death! But before I could even struggle, I was already slung over a bodyguard’s shoulder. “Tell Nightshade her starting bid is one dollar. Only gambling debt cripples are allowed to raise their cards!” “No! No! River Dustin, let me go! I’m not your wife. What gives you the right to do this?!” “I won’t go! I don’t want the baby anymore! I don’t want your-!” Before I could finish, a hand clamped over my mouth. The bodyguard beside me lowered his voice. “Miss Ember, rest assured. Mr. Dustin will find someone else to take your place.” “It has to look like a misunderstanding. We’ll keep you safe the whole time. You won’t get hurt.” The elevator door closed quickly. But the bodyguard soon let out a muffled groan and collapsed. I was terrified. Amid futile struggling, I was stuffed into a sack by another group of people. “Miss Summer already knew he left a backup plan. She specifically had us wait here for you. Just accept your fate.” I was completely hopeless, letting my tears fall. But before we even reached the first floor, the elevator door opened eerily. Someone stood in the shadows outside, their eyes extremely sinister. “You… how is this possible…” The people in the elevator looked terrified, as if they’d seen a ghost, fumbling for their phones. But I stared at that blurry figure and couldn’t hold on any longer. I collapsed. Whether I lived or died this time- River Dustin, I never wanted to see you again.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “357641”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #校园School

During the earthquake, I chose not to call for help. I let Carson save his first love instead. In this life, I wished them well and married a gentle policeman. But Carson cornered me like a madman. “You were reborn too, weren’t you?” He yanked my collar, saw the marks on my neck, and his gaze turned feral. “Divorce him. I’ll marry you.” I smiled, showing him my wedding ring. “You’re too late, Mr. Sterling.” Then he crashed into my car. Then he grabbed my ankle, lying in a pool of blood. “Suzy, either come back to me. Or I die again and go back to when you loved me most.” Susanna’s POV Carson and I had been married for five years. From campus sweethearts to married couple-everyone said he was crazy about me. Only I knew that Carson had never forgotten my roommate, Noelle White. Years ago, during that earthquake, Carson heard my cry for help first. He chose to save me. Noelle bled out and died. That choice became a thorn lodged between us forever. I could only accept Carson keeping Noelle’s belongings, accept that she held a permanent place in his heart. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and asked for a divorce. But on the way to finalize it, we got into a car accident. In that moment between life and death, Carson gave me the only chance of survival. Fighting through the pain, he pushed me out of the car. In that moment, I suddenly let it all go. So when I was reborn back to that earthquake, I suppressed my cries for help and watched Carson run toward Noelle’s direction instead. This time, I gave Carson what he’d always wanted. And just like that, Carson and I were even. No more ties between us. The rain seemed lighter now, changing from heavy drumming to a gentle patter. I stood under the convenience store awning holding flowers, surrounded by people seeking shelter. Nearby, some young women huddled together chatting. I poked my head out to check the sky. Looked like the rain would continue for a while. The leg that got crushed in the earthquake six months ago had lingering problems. It ached badly now, leaving me restless and irritable. Six months had passed since my rebirth, and I hadn’t seen Carson once in all that time. In my previous life, I was the one who asked for divorce. We’d been married ten years. To outsiders, Carson had it all-good family background, handsome looks, completely devoted to me, never fooling around with other women. But only I knew that at home, Carson never showed me affection. Even our marital duties felt like checking off a task. We only got married because our families pushed us together. Carson’s heart belonged entirely to Noelle. Since Noelle was dead, he didn’t care who his wife was. He even kept a room in our house covered wall-to-wall with Noelle’s photos. I cried about it. I fought about it. But all I got back was Carson saying, “You owe her this.” But I never could have imagined that when the car accident came, Carson would be the one to push me out of the car. I knelt outside the wreckage, trying to pull Carson out, but he was trapped too tightly. The car was about to explode. Carson fought through the pain and pried my hands away. “This time I don’t owe you anything, Susanna.” In that final moment, he disappeared in a sea of flames. And I was reborn back to that earthquake. I was pinned under a beam, my left leg pierced through by rebar, barely breathing. Memories from my past and present lives tangled chaotically, making my head throb. But the moment I saw young Carson stumbling toward me, I instinctively clamped my hand over my mouth. As long as I stayed silent this time, Carson would save Noelle instead. He wouldn’t be pressured by our families into marrying me because he saved my life. I endured the searing pain in my leg and watched Carson run toward Noelle’s location without looking back. Only then did I relax. I watched his figure disappear from view, and my consciousness faded. I woke up in the hospital. My left leg had been crushed for too long and was badly damaged. The doctor said I’d need extensive recovery. So I spent nearly two months in that hospital bed. On the day I was discharged, an old classmate who came to visit mentioned Carson in passing. Carson had successfully saved Noelle back then. He got to her in time-she wasn’t seriously hurt. Apparently Carson even confessed at Noelle’s bedside, and now they were officially together. You could see couple photos on their social media. My classmate went on and on, though their tone was a bit disapproving. These people all knew that Carson had been chasing me relentlessly since high school, following me around like a puppy every day. Everyone practically assumed we’d end up together. I lowered my head and slowly folded a hospital receipt in my hands. Carson must have been reborn too. This time, he made a completely different choice without hesitation, running to the person he truly wanted to save. That was good. I didn’t want anything to do with Carson anymore anyway. Starting over, we could just return to our original paths.

Susanna’s POV Lost in thought, two short honks interrupted me. Startled, I looked up to see a black Maybach stopped by the curb. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Carson’s expressionless profile. His gaze faced forward-he wasn’t looking at me. Noelle leaned over from the driver’s seat, waving enthusiastically with a bright voice. “Is that you, Suzy? What a coincidence! Hard to get a cab in this rain, right? Get in, we’ll drive you home!” I instinctively wanted to shake my head and refuse. My lips had barely moved when Carson’s cold, hard voice cut me off. “Get in. Don’t waste time-Noelle has reservations at that French restaurant soon.” His tone carried impatient urgency. I froze at this sudden scolding. Noelle beside him shrugged and waved at me, gesturing for me to get in. I pressed my lips together, glanced at my aching leg, and finally pulled open the door and slid into the back seat. The car’s interior was spacious, the heater turned up high, instantly dispelling the damp cold outside. I huddled in the window seat with my bouquet of lilies, head down, looking at the pure white petals. Glancing up unconsciously, I caught Carson’s eyes in the rearview mirror. I flinched and looked away, staring straight ahead. After that brief moment of eye contact, Carson also looked away, focusing on the traffic ahead. The car merged smoothly into traffic. Carson drove in silence. Aside from the occasional turn signal, the only sound in the car was Noelle’s cheerful voice. She seemed in high spirits, jumping from topic to topic-how amazing the desserts would be at the restaurant, to an art exhibition next week, to suddenly wanting new car decorations. I only dared to nod slightly when she paused and her gaze seemed to sweep toward me, as acknowledgment. My reactions were always half a beat slow. Noelle’s rapid-fire topic changes often left me unsure how to respond. Usually at times like this, Noelle would naturally turn to Carson instead, or just start humming to herself. But today, Noelle’s voice suddenly stopped. That brief silence felt oddly abrupt in the warm car. I was staring absently out the window when I heard Noelle’s voice turn toward me. “Suzy, are you still mad at me?” Called out by name, I snapped back to attention and instinctively looked up. I met Noelle’s hurt gaze as she half-turned from the passenger seat. She lowered her head, long lashes drooping, eyes quickly reddening, voice breaking into tears. “Suzy, I know… I know you must hate me.” “Even though you were the one who introduced us back then. Of course, I’m grateful for that now.” “But, but you can’t help who you fall for.” “Carson likes me now, and I don’t want to lose you as a friend. Can’t you stop being angry and just let us be together?” I opened my mouth, the words “I’m not upset” still lodged in my throat, when Carson suddenly braked and pulled to the curb. He unbuckled his seatbelt, leaned over, and wiped Noelle’s tears with his fingertips, impossibly gentle. The tenderness in his eyes nearly spilled over. “Don’t cry, Noelle.” Something lightly struck my chest, leaving a dull ache. In five years of marriage, Carson had never looked at me that way. I was always the understanding wife who didn’t need comforting. The bitterness in my heart flashed and passed. I turned to look at Noelle, tears streaming down her face. Her sudden accusation left me stunned, my mind struggling to catch up. “I… I’m not upset…” The words barely left my mouth when a sharp click echoed through the car. The doors unlocked. Carson held Noelle close, cast me a cold look, his voice ice-cold. “Get out.” Noelle sobbed, leaning against Carson’s side while saying to me. “Suzy, I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well right now. Can you just go home by yourself?” Noelle was still Noelle-the princess who needed the whole world to revolve around her moods. I didn’t say another word. I reached for the door handle, grabbed my slightly crushed bouquet of lilies, and got out. The cold wind immediately wrapped around me, dispersing the car’s abundant warmth. I didn’t look back at the black car stopped behind me.

Susanna’s POV I walked to the roadside just as an empty taxi drove past. I flagged it down and gave my address. As the car drove smoothly away, I buried my face in the damp bouquet of lilies and took a deep breath. The fragrance cleared away the lingering stuffiness in my chest. I touched the petals and muttered quietly. “Those two lunatics… if my husband knew what happened today…” The thought came naturally. I paused slightly, then the corners of my mouth curved up involuntarily, a faint smile appearing in my eyes. Yes, I was already married. To Holden Hayes, someone my parents introduced me to. Surprisingly, we hit it off right from our first meeting. I had a mild, calm personality. Holden leaned toward the gentle type. He came from a police background but had an unexpectedly tender, thoughtful nature. With him, I felt relaxed. And just like that, we rushed into marriage. Holden had asked me to pick up the flowers today. He said it was to celebrate that my leg was almost fully healed. He was originally supposed to have the day off and drive me home. But just as he was about to leave, the police station called with an emergency. A case he was handling had a development, and he had to rush back immediately. So I picked up the flowers myself, not expecting to run into this downpour the moment I stepped outside. I had to scramble for shelter under the convenience store awning, where I happened to run into Carson and Noelle. The taxi entered the familiar neighborhood. I paid and got out, carrying the flowers toward the entrance. When I got home, I placed the flowers on the cabinet in the entryway, changed into slippers, and slowly walked into the bedroom. I was a bit tired. Though I’d mentally prepared myself to have no connection with Carson, today’s encounter still drained considerable energy. Plus I’d walked a short distance on the way back, and drowsiness washed over me again. I changed into pajamas and lay down, pulling the curtains closed. The room instantly dimmed, and I drifted off to sleep in a daze. Perhaps because I’d seen Carson today, those deliberately buried memories slipped uncontrollably into my dreams. I dreamed of Carson. Not the cold, distant Carson of now, but from earlier times-the Carson whose heart and eyes were full of me. From my earliest memories, Carson had followed behind me. His personality actually wasn’t warm and outgoing-he was even somewhat aloof, always maintaining a mature demeanor in front of others. Only around me would he unconsciously relax, even tugging at my sleeve and acting cute in that voice only I could hear. His family background was far better than mine. We could stick together so much thanks to our families being close. But when applying to universities, he didn’t even look at other schools. Wherever I applied, he followed. This behavior gave me the wrong idea. I’d always thought I was loved by Carson. Until shortly after starting freshman year, I brought Carson to meet my roommates. Noelle wore a newly bought dress, running down the stairs with a bright smile, waving hello in our direction. I was about to make introductions when I felt the hand that had been holding mine suddenly let go. I turned my head and saw Carson’s gaze fixed on Noelle, a dazed smile appearing on his face. At this point in the dream, I frowned uneasily against the pillow. I instinctively tried to turn over, to escape these increasingly vivid images. My body had barely moved when I felt a gentle tightness around my waist, then fell into a warm, solid embrace. Someone adjusted their arm very gently to let me rest more comfortably. A palm patted my back soothingly with careful, measured pressure, as if afraid of disturbing me. I woke from the restless sleep and opened my eyes, vision still a bit blurry. A warm breath brushed across the top of my head. I blinked, fully awake now, and tilted my head up slightly. Holden was looking down at me. Seeing me awake, the arm around me didn’t let go, just relaxed the pressure slightly. His voice was low and husky, but his tone gentle. “Leg hurting again? Having nightmares?” I smiled and moved closer on my own, lightly kissing Holden’s Adam’s apple. After stumbling so badly with Carson, I’d gradually figured out a pattern. Sometimes with relationships, you had to be a bit proactive. Holden let out a muffled grunt at my kiss, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He used his solid thigh to shift me up a bit, holding me tighter. “Nightmare?” He stroked my head, his dark brown eyes looking at me tenderly. Holden stood nearly six-three, broad-shouldered with long legs. Years of training gave him an excellent physique. But he had an overly gentle face, with warm eyes that drooped slightly at the corners, like some large canine. Steady and reliable with an indescribable honest straightforwardness underneath. His gaze made my ears burn. I reached up to cover his eyes. Holden’s lashes fluttered against my palm, tickling it with fine, dense sensations. “Mm,” I admitted honestly. “I dreamed about Carson.” Holden paused, the arm around me unconsciously tightening. “Still thinking about him?” I shook my head, cheek pressed against his warm chest, listening to the steady heartbeat inside. “Just occasional dreams.” I was telling the truth.

Susanna’s POV Those intense feelings of love and hate for Carson had gradually faded over these months. Maybe because of the rebirth, those bits and pieces of time spent with him now felt like distant memories. I had loved Carson. I had also hated Carson. I hated that he didn’t love me but married me anyway. I hated even more that he saved me, leaving me forever carrying the shackles of that debt. But as the one who was saved, I didn’t even have the standing to question him. Those years of distant marriage were Carson’s greatest revenge against me. Yet he still saved me in that car accident. Carson used his last strength to push me out of the car, choosing to stay in those flames clutching Noelle’s photo. In that moment, all my hatred suddenly dissipated. Starting over, I let him go and let myself go, only asking that we never cross paths again. Outside the window, the sky had darkened without me noticing. Distant sounds of passing cars drifted over. The bedroom had no lights on, the dimness settling in. Holden didn’t press further. He just lowered his head and nuzzled the top of my head with his chin. This gesture was so characteristic of him-like a large dog comforting a sad human, carrying intense but clumsy soothing intent. “Hungry? I’ll go make something.” I shook my head, wrapping my arms around his neck and nestling deeper into his embrace. “Hold me a bit longer.” Holden went still, just holding me, his palm patting my back on and off, like soothing a child. After a while, I suddenly remembered something and looked up. “Didn’t you have an emergency today? How did you get back so fast?” “Situation changed temporarily. Problem with the evidence chain, had to put it on hold.” Holden explained, his fingers unconsciously curling around a strand of my hair. “The team told me to come home and rest first, deal with it tomorrow.” He made it sound casual. But I knew he’d been working around the clock on that case for days, always with faint shadows under his eyes. “Should you sleep for a bit?” I looked up and asked. “Not tired. Holding you is more refreshing than sleep.” Such a straightforward statement. The heat that had just left my face started creeping back. I lightly tapped his shoulder. Holden laughed softly, his chest vibrating slightly. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. His clean, soapy scent filled my nose. It made me feel safe This was good. Perfect. The next morning, Holden left earlier than usual. The case he’d been working on had reached a critical point. The department was pushing hard. He lingered at the door for a long time, holding my hand, his chin hooked over my shoulder, grumbling about not wanting to go to work. It took me laughing and nudging him, telling him he’d be late, before he finally let go. He dipped his head quickly, brushed his lips against mine, then turned and headed downstairs. His footsteps gradually faded in the stairwell. I closed the door, smiling as I turned to clear the dishes from the table. Outside the kitchen window, the sky was a pale gray-blue with a few wisps of clouds hanging lazily. Water rushing, I carefully rinsed the cups, planning to hit the supermarket later to buy some of the pastries Holden loved. Just as I set the washed cup on the rack, someone knocked at the door. Three measured knocks. I dried my hands, thinking it must be Holden, probably forgot his keys or some documents. Still smiling, I walked over, gripped the door handle, and gently pulled it open. “What did you forget this time?” The words cut off abruptly. Standing outside wasn’t Holden. It was Carson. He came alone, wearing a finely tailored black cashmere sweater with matching trousers that made his skin look even paler. His hair wasn’t slicked back meticulously like yesterday-it fell softly with a few strands across his forehead. Standing in this somewhat messy hallway, he seemed out of place with an air of cool refinement. I didn’t speak, hand on the door, making no move to let him in. Carson’s gaze lingered on my face for a moment. Then he turned sideways and slipped through the narrow gap between me and the doorframe. As naturally as if he were coming home. He knew this place. Didn’t even need to look it up-just showed up. In my previous life after we married, I insisted on living here, saying this old neighborhood had character and was close to my office. He had better apartments and locations under his name, but he gave in to me. The room’s layout was mostly the same as in the previous life. Carson looked around, his gaze finally settling back on me. Someone’s door opened and closed in the hallway, bringing faint sounds of conversation. But inside, the silence seemed to stretch impossibly. Only an occasional sparrow passed by the window, making brief chirps. I looked up at Carson standing in the middle of the living room. Walked forward a few steps and sat at the dining table. Setting aside my own pitiful perspective, objectively speaking. In my previous life, Carson as a husband never shortchanged me materially and respected my basic needs. I was just too young then, too dependent on him, treating him as my only lifeline, unable to see the truth. Instead, my tears and arguments only pushed him further away. Now, stepping outside that circle, only calm remained in my heart. Meeting his gaze, I smiled, trying to seem as peaceful as usual. “Is there something you need?” Carson looked at me, his eyes darkening. He pressed his lips together, his voice controlled and measured when he spoke. “You have a boyfriend?” Such an abrupt question, even crossing boundaries. We’d gone nearly three or four months without seeing each other face-to-face, and our relationship had faded considerably. He didn’t care about any of that. He actually acted like he had the right to ask. His gaze drifted back to my face. “Susanna, even though I’m with Noelle now, you don’t have to settle for just anyone.” He paused, as if he were genuinely looking out for me, like I was some reckless child who didn’t know any better. The arrogance in Carson’s eyes nearly spilled over. “You want me to introduce you to someone? I know a few guys with decent prospects.” He waited quietly, watching for my reaction.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “357642”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #校园School

At the class reunion, my doctor friend said my husband came to see him for disinfection yesterday. “Your husband got a couple’s bite mark tattooed on his inner thigh, and it’s gotten a bit inflamed.” After saying this, my doctor friend even sent me a photo. Another friend chimed in enviously: “I never imagined that after so many years of marriage, you two would still be so in love!” The wine in my hand immediately spilled all over the floor. I turned around and called my husband to demand answers: “Your skin is extremely sensitive to allergies. Why did you hide getting a tattoo from me?” My husband’s tone was completely frank: “I’ve always wanted to tattoo your name over my heart, so I was testing it out first. Sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to worry you.” I looked at that photo again—the woman who went to the hospital with him also had the same bite mark on her thigh. I asked him coldly with a sneer: “You want to tattoo my name over your heart. Then whose bite mark is tattooed on your inner thigh?”

I felt like our ten-year marriage had become a complete joke. But before I could question him further, my secretary called in a panic. “Mr. Shaw accidentally ingested dairy products and had a severe allergic reaction—he’s in the hospital!” I frowned and asked: “How could he be so careless?” The secretary said it happened during a business dinner today when a woman insisted that Benjamin Shaw eat ice cream, and he didn’t refuse. On my anxious drive to the hospital, I had the secretary send me Benjamin’s recent work schedule. I needed to figure out who this woman was. Rushing into the hospital room, I saw Benjamin lying there pale-faced, hooked up to an IV. By the bedside, an unfamiliar young woman was crying her eyes out. When she saw me, she immediately rushed over, apologizing nonstop, her face full of guilt. “Mrs. Shaw, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t know Mr. Shaw was allergic to dairy products!” I frowned, scrutinizing her as alarm bells rang in my mind. Just then, Benjamin reached out and took my hand. “Chloe, don’t blame her.” He said Chelsea Winters was the project manager from the partner company. “We’ve been negotiating this deal, and she’s been working overtime every night. So during the celebration banquet game today, I got careless for a moment and ate a few bites, that’s all.” Chelsea immediately said: “Mrs. Shaw, since you’re here, I’ll head back to the office to handle some matters!” Watching their composed demeanor, my vigilant hostility subsided considerably. But I still added her as a friend on Ins. Her Ins content seemed pretty ordinary, and that photo with the bite mark was nowhere to be found. Seeing this, I breathed a small sigh of relief. Maybe I really had misunderstood them. After she left, Benjamin raised an eyebrow with a meaningful smile. “Look at you, all nervous and jealous—don’t trust me? Think I’m fooling around with someone?” I hesitated for a few seconds but still showed him the photo my classmate had sent. “How do you explain this?” Benjamin looked at it for only a second before immediately scoffing, showing not a trace of guilt or nervousness. “Bite mark tattoos are really popular lately. I just did it on a whim. That female doctor… I remember she had a crush on me back in college. She’s probably deliberately spreading rumors, hoping we’ll break up.”

I froze, remembering that there was indeed such a thing. Benjamin laughed dryly. “She must have gotten jealous at your reunion today and deliberately tried to drive a wedge between us! How did you suddenly become so silly, actually believing your rival’s words?” I felt a bit embarrassed by what he said. Over all these years, from falling in love in college to six years of marriage, our relationship had been solid. So many admirers had tried to come between us, but none had ever succeeded. Among our circle of friends and classmates, there was even a saying. That Chloe Morgan and Benjamin were the last line of defense for believing in love. Thinking of all these years of mutual trust and love, I couldn’t help rubbing my temples. Perhaps I really had overthought things. Lost in thought, Benjamin sighed. “Honey, since you misunderstood me, I’m going to tell you something, and you can’t get angry.” I asked curiously what it was. He said next Sunday was our sixth wedding anniversary, and he’d already booked flowers and a restaurant. “But I have to go on a last-minute business trip in a few days to finalize some overseas contracts, so I won’t be able to spend it with you.” I smiled understandingly, saying it wasn’t a big deal. When two people love each other, why fixate on a mere anniversary? Benjamin hugged me emotionally, planting a gentle, deep kiss on my forehead. “I’ll definitely look for some special island souvenirs to bring back as a gift for my wife~” But I never imagined that this gift would be such a “surprising” shock. While scrolling through a live stream, a familiar figure caught my eye. Even wearing an island-style half-face mask, I was so familiar with Benjamin that I recognized him in a second. In the frame, he was embracing a young woman in a revealing bikini, performing a French kiss. That person was none other than Chelsea, whom I’d just seen at the hospital a few days ago. “Wow, wow, if this couple can hold on for one more minute, they’ll win the kissing challenge grand prize~” Amid the enthusiastic cheering of the surrounding spectators, the two kissed as if heaven and earth had ceased to exist. Finally, the woman’s waist went soft and she instinctively hooked her leg around Benjamin. On her inner thigh, a bite mark tattoo practically blinded me. After the challenge ended, Chelsea happily accepted the challenge prize—a pair of dolphin plushies. The next second, I received a photo from Benjamin on my phone. “Honey, this blue dolphin is the island’s mascot, isn’t it cute? I specially got it as a gift for you.” I looked at the pink dolphin in Chelsea’ hands in the livestream, feeling infinite irony in my heart. Suddenly, I seemed to remember something and rushed from the study into the bedroom. On the double bed’s headboard, various stuffed animals and cute plushies occupied every inch of space. But before, those shelves had clearly been filled with literature books we loved reading before bed. Thinking carefully, this change seemed to have started about six months ago. Back then, I’d even teased Benjamin. “How did you suddenly become so girly?” He turned and hugged me, sighing deeply. “Who told my dear wife to be so intellectual and elegant? You don’t want jewelry, you don’t like luxury goods—these plushies aren’t worth much money, but I won them all at little events, so they have special meaning~” At the time, I was deeply moved. Even though I wasn’t interested, I carefully cleaned and maintained them all. Following the social media account Chelsea showed off in the livestream, I immediately logged in to follow and check. Sure enough, every toy on the headboard had its matching half in photos she’d posted.

No wonder she could so shamelessly let me add her as a friend back then. Turns out these romantic records weren’t posted on SnapChat at all. I couldn’t help scrolling through them one by one. The more I looked, the colder my heart grew. “Starting today, I’m recording my daily romance with my darling boyfriend, beginning the challenge of 99 romantic couple must-dos~” “Number 10: Wild sex in the Maybach back seat (completed).” “Number 27: Use three different flavored condoms in one night (completed).” “Number 97: Get matching bite mark tattoos on our inner thighs (completed).” “Number 98: Let a million people witness our kiss (completed today)!” Under each post, an account with a couple’s profile picture responded enthusiastically. Ridiculously, when I enlarged the profile picture, I could see it clearly. In those clasped hands, Benjamin’s ring finger was even wearing our wedding ring. He’d once smiled and promised me: “No matter what, I’ll never take off my wedding ring—I want to declare to everyone that I belong to my wife!” He’d kept his promise. Even when cheating, he wore it faithfully. The two of them conspired together to treat me like a fool. My hands trembled as I scrolled through post after post in an almost masochistic way. My head buzzed with noise as nausea overwhelmed me, and I rushed to the bathroom to vomit violently. Not until a new notification sound rang out did I barely lift my head and look at my phone again. Chelsea had posted a new update. “Baby, what should we do for the next couple’s challenge?” I saw she had quite a few followers, all offering suggestions in the comments. But Chelsea found them all insufficiently thrilling. Finally, a local island fan suggested: “Our most famous attraction is Love Cliff. There’s a bungee jumping challenge tomorrow—legend says couples brave enough to jump together while embracing will love each other forever!” Chelsea immediately became interested. “That’s the one! Number 99: Jump off a cliff together for love, experiencing the romance of eloping and dying together!” She also announced some good news to her fans. “Benjamin promised me that after completing all 99 challenges, he’ll officially propose to me~” Fans expressed their envy and sent blessings. “I’m local—I’ll definitely come witness your love in person!” Reading this, though my heart filled with rage and pain, a glimmer of hope actually arose. Because I could be certain that Benjamin would never agree to this challenge. Simply because he had acrophobia—at its worst, he would even pass out from being at heights! I still remember during sophomore summer vacation when we went on an outdoor excursion together. His necklace broke and rolled down the slope, nearly driving him crazy. “This is my mother’s keepsake—I have to get it back!” But the moment he leaned his head out, his acrophobia kicked in and he nearly fainted. At the time, I disregarded the danger and climbed down without hesitation to search for it. My arms and legs were covered in cuts from sharp thorns, and I even sprained my ankle, nearly falling to my death! After pulling me back up, Benjamin trembled as he held me tight. “Chloe, I’ll never let you down for the rest of my life!” However, this last shred of confidence was shattered by a single comment. Benjamin commented on Chelsea’ post: “For you, I’d risk my life.”

I wandered back to the living room like a ghost and couldn’t help reaching for the necklace hanging around my neck. It was the pendant I’d retrieved for Benjamin. I’d already done the thing about risking my life for love. On our wedding day, he gave me this keepsake from his mother. “This was always meant to be a family heirloom for my daughter-in-law. Chloe, it belongs to you now!” I didn’t love wearing jewelry and never coveted expensive gems. But this necklace that witnessed our love—I’d worn it consistently all this time. Just as I stroked it numbly in my confused state of mind, the pendant suddenly broke and fell to the floor. My heart felt like it had shattered into two pieces as well. Coming to my senses, I quickly took a photo and sent it to Benjamin. “Honey, the necklace broke! Can you come back so we can go find that old craftsman together and have it repaired?” This was my last hope. Also the last chance I was giving Benjamin. After a long while, he finally replied. “How were you so careless? I’ll have my secretary send you the craftsman’s address. You can go get it repaired yourself.” Seeing I hadn’t replied for a long time, he added an apology. “It’s not that I don’t want to go with you—tomorrow’s contract is really important and requires my personal presence for signing! Honey, you’re so considerate and understanding, I know you’ll get it!” I threw down my phone and collapsed powerlessly into the sofa. As tears fell drop by drop, my heart gradually froze over. I sat there without eating or drinking until dawn, then directly bought a plane ticket to the island. Following the address, I arrived at Love Cliff. Because of the couples’ bungee jumping challenge, tourists were everywhere, and the atmosphere was electric. Several couples ready to attempt the challenge already stood on the bungee platform. I spotted Benjamin and Chelsea embracing intimately like glue at first glance. They kept touching hands and kissing, clearly looking like a couple deeply in love. Multiple cameras and livestream lenses pointed upward. Countless comments flew by frantically, everyone betting on which couple could successfully complete the challenge. Benjamin still wore a half-face mask, thinking this way no one could recognize him. There was still one empty spot on the bungee platform. To attract attention and boost viewership, the host searched everywhere in the tourist crowd for suitable challengers. When my face appeared on the big screen, the host’s eyes lit up. He immediately rushed out and pulled me onto the platform. “Miss, are you interested in participating in the Love Cliff bungee challenge? There’s a ten thousand dollar prize!” Seeing Benjamin’s incredulous expression and instantly rigid body, I suppressed a cold laugh. “Sorry, I came alone. I don’t have a partner to join the challenge.” The host looked utterly disappointed but very unwilling to give up. “Oh come on, miss, just find a handsome guy in the crowd to partner with! Who’s willing, please raise your hands!” Countless arms immediately shot up below, with many men staring at me eagerly. Benjamin’s face immediately darkened, and he involuntarily took a step forward. But Chelsea pulled him back, and he immediately hesitated, stiffly retracting his foot. I sneered inwardly, feeling another wave of disappointment. “I’m sorry, I’m already married and my relationship with my husband is great. I would never embrace and hug a stranger man to jump off a cliff. My husband loves me very much and would be jealous~” “Besides, today is our sixth wedding anniversary. Because he came here on a business trip to sign contracts, I secretly flew over, planning to surprise him tonight!” The crowd burst into laughter, and even the big screen comments expressed envy. “Totally understand—if I were the miss’s husband, I’d be angry too~” “Someone else’s wife—both romantic and considerate. Which lucky man gets to be this happy, damn it!” Seeing the atmosphere reach its peak, I calmly pulled out my phone. “Why don’t I call and ask if he’s finished with business? Maybe he can come early and participate in the challenge with me?” The host, seeing there was still hope, quickly urged me to make the call. “Wow~ Your husband will definitely come! A sixth anniversary is so rare—you must create the most precious memories. Everyone agree?” Chelsea’ face immediately changed color, and Benjamin frantically tried to pull out his phone to turn it off. But it was too late. The next second, a phone ringtone rang out. I looked toward the sound, deliberately showing surprise. “Honey, why are you on the bungee platform?”

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I was born with naturally wide hips, a peach-shaped bottom, and a curvaceous figure. But my fiancé Pierce insisted I had to squeeze into that heirloom mermaid wedding dress before I could enter his family. For three years, I slept in shapewear every single night. My hip bones were rubbed raw and bloody. Because I couldn’t fit into it, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. Pierce would kiss my hip bones and whisper, “Be good, just try a little harder, and then we’ll get married.” For this day, I secretly scheduled an extremely high-risk hip bone reduction surgery without telling my family. Just as I was about to sign the consent form, Pierce’s assistant came running in, panicking. “Mr. Pierce, Miss Sullivan saw the wedding dress mockup and tried to kill herself again. She says she’s jealous that Miss Watson can stand up and wear a dress.” Pierce was silent for two seconds. “Take in the knees of the dress. Alter it to a size where she won’t even be able to walk.” “But Mr. Pierce, at that size, Miss Watson won’t be able to get into it at all…” “Then make her keep trying! Until Scarlett’s legs heal.” “Scarlett became disabled saving me. I can’t let her suffer watching someone else wear a wedding dress and walk around.” He didn’t know that my father had only given me three years. Since this wedding dress was designed for someone crippled, perhaps these legs of mine should just walk themselves back to Harbor City, where I could be the heiress I was meant to be.

“I’m not going through with this surgery.” “Miss Watson, I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” “Your body really can’t handle this kind of trauma anymore.” I pushed open the consultation room door, only to run straight into a pair of people I had no desire to see. Pierce was pushing a wheelchair, and sitting in it was the pale-faced Scarlett Sullivan. Scarlett wore an oversized hospital gown. Seeing me, she covered her mouth in exaggerated surprise and laughed lightly. “Madison, what are you doing at the hospital? You look like… you’ve gained even more weight.” “That heirloom mermaid dress—I’m afraid you’ll have even less chance of fitting into it now.” Pierce instinctively pulled the wheelchair back a step, positioning it protectively in front of Scarlett. He frowned. “Didn’t I tell you to go to the gym for Pilates? Why are you at the hospital?” “Even if you’re going to slack off, there’s a limit. The wedding is only days away.” I stared at his hand resting on the wheelchair armrest—long fingers, well-defined knuckles, beautiful. Last night, those same hands had caressed the bruises on my hip bones. He’d kissed that spot, coaxing me in a low voice: “Be good, just try a little harder, and then we’ll get married.” Only now did I see clearly—that wasn’t love. It was domestication. Seeing my silence, Scarlett suddenly covered her forehead, her body going limp as she collapsed into Pierce’s arms. “Pierce, I’m so dizzy. Maybe the dialysis session was too long…” Pierce immediately bent down and pulled her into his embrace. “Don’t be scared, the doctor will be here soon. Where does it hurt?” After comforting Scarlett, he turned to look at me. “Scarlett got upset after seeing the wedding dress design. Her emotions are unstable.” “The doctor said she can’t handle any shocks. Don’t hang around in front of her. Go home.” This was my fiancé. While I was grinding my hip bones bloody trying to fit into that dress. He was worrying about whether another woman might get upset from seeing a picture of a wedding dress. A wave of nausea surged up from my stomach. I didn’t meekly leave as I usually would. Instead, I stepped forward. I looked down at Scarlett’s legs hidden beneath the blanket. “Upset?” “Is it because she’ll be a cripple for the rest of her life and can never stand up?” Scarlett’s face went deathly pale, tears welling in her eyes. Pierce straightened up abruptly. “Madison! Do you even know what you’re saying?!” “Scarlett became like this saving me—what right do you have to mock her?” His assistant came running over, sweating profusely. “Mr. Pierce, there’s an emergency at the company. The board members are all waiting…” Pierce took a deep breath, suppressing the rage in his eyes. He looked at me. “Go home and reflect. If you still can’t fit into that dress tonight, don’t expect to step through the doors of the Pierce family.” With that, he hurriedly pushed Scarlett away, not sparing me another glance. Scarlett sat in her wheelchair, looking back at me with eyes full of provocation and smugness. I stood there, watching them disappear down the corridor, and suddenly laughed. Reflect? I should definitely reflect. Reflect on how I’ve lived like a joke for the past three years.

Watching Pierce hurriedly wheel Scarlett away, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number I knew by heart. The call was answered after one ring. “Madison? Why are you calling at this hour? Do you need more money?” “Or… are your hip bones still hurting?” Hearing that familiar voice, my eyes immediately welled up with tears. These past three years, for Pierce’s sake, I’d rarely contacted my family. Even when I did call, I always reported good news and hid the bad. But I also knew that Dad had been quietly watching over me the whole time, fully aware of the suffering I’d endured. Dad felt sorry for me but didn’t dare interfere too much, afraid of putting me in a difficult position. He always said: “If you’re not happy, come home. Dad can take care of you.” I touched my bruised waist, choking back my tears. “Dad, I miss the roasted duck from home.” There was two seconds of silence on the other end. “Okay, okay! I’ll have someone go buy it right now. What else do you want to eat? I’ll send your brother to wait in line!” “As long as you’re willing to come home, I’ll give you anything you want.” After hanging up, I looked out at the blue sky and let out a long, deep breath. Three years ago, I was Madison Watson, the bold and spirited heiress of Harbor City. Back then, I had a voluptuous figure with gorgeous curves. When Pierce proposed to me on the Great Wall, he knelt on one knee. “Madison, I love your sensuality. Don’t change for anyone.” “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ll marry no one but you in this lifetime.” I believed his lies and followed him to Port City without looking back. But the moment I stepped through the Pierce family’s door, Pierce’s mother looked me over with critical eyes. “Wide hips are good for childbearing, but they’re not refined. You can’t wear our family’s haute couture.” “That kind of figure—when you go out, people will just think you’re vulgar. You’ll embarrass Pierce.” From that day on, my nightmare began. To please his family and to satisfy Scarlett, Pierce started to relentlessly manipulate me. “Madison, as long as you can fit into that heirloom mermaid dress, everyone will shut up.” “This is for our future. Just bear with it a little, okay?” I endured for three years. Every day I slept in custom shapewear, barely able to breathe. My hip bones were rubbed raw, scabbed over, then rubbed raw again—over and over, never healing. The driver brought the car to a smooth stop at the entrance of the Pierce family estate. The butler stood at the door, his face stern, looking at me coldly. “Miss Watson, the young master has instructed that you must fit into the dress tonight for the preliminary photo shoot.” “The photographer has already arrived. Please hurry to the dressing room.” This was the Pierce family—no warmth, only endless tasks and suffocating rules. I walked into that dedicated dressing room. The silver-white mermaid wedding dress hung in the center. Its waist was extremely narrow, and the knee area was absurdly constricted. In the past, seeing it would only fill me with fear and anxiety. But now, I felt only calm, along with a hint of relief at my impending liberation. I walked over and ran my hand over the knee area of the dress. The texture was hard and cold. The sensation at my fingertips confirmed what I’d accidentally overheard the maids whispering yesterday— “The young master ordered the knees taken in another three centimeters and six steel boning rods added to make sure it holds its shape.” At the time, it seemed absurd. Now, touching these impossibly hard, completely inflexible steel bones, I understood how vicious every word had been. These boning rods would lock the knees in place. Forget walking—even standing would be difficult. Pierce really hadn’t lied to me. He truly had blocked off this path completely. Since this wedding dress was designed for a cripple, these legs of mine might as well be used for walking instead.

The dressing room door was pushed open, and several maids filed in. They carried heavy-duty shapewear, their expressions cold. “Miss Watson, please cooperate. We need to help compress your body.” “This time the measurements are even smaller. It might take two people pulling, and it will hurt a bit. Please bear with it.” In the past, during every dress fitting, I’d let them do whatever they wanted. Even when my ribs ached from the compression, even when my skin was rubbed bloody, I would just grit my teeth and endure. Because Pierce said this was for love, for our wedding. But today, looking at the binding straps in their hands, I only felt ridiculous. “Get out.” My voice was ice-cold. The head maid paused, apparently not expecting me to resist. “Miss Watson, our boss said tonight you must—” “I said get out!” I grabbed the scissors from the table and stabbed them hard into the vanity. “I’ll dress myself.” The maids were frightened by the ferocity in my eyes. After exchanging glances, they retreated. The moment the door closed, I picked up the scissors and cut into those shapewear garments without hesitation. The fabric tore. This thing that had constricted me for three full years, keeping me awake countless nights in pain. Finally became nothing but scraps of cloth in my hands. I kicked the pieces aside and pulled out my phone, opening a food delivery app. Fried chicken, pizza, cheesecake… Every high-calorie food that Pierce had strictly forbidden for three years—I ordered it all. Half an hour later, the delivery arrived. I sat cross-legged on the expensive leather sofa and opened the fried chicken box. The scent of deep-fried food instantly filled the entire room. I grabbed a drumstick and took a huge bite. The crispy skin, the tender and juicy meat, the oil bursting in my mouth. This long-lost taste almost brought me to tears. Just then, the dressing room door was violently pushed open. Pierce rushed in, looking dusty from travel. Seeing this scene, he froze. “Madison! What are you doing?!” He charged over in a few strides and knocked the fried chicken out of my hand. The golden chicken rolled onto the carpet, leaving a glaring oil stain. Pierce was so angry his chest heaved violently. He pointed at the mess on the floor, his voice trembling. “Have you lost your mind? One bite of that and half a month of effort is wasted!” “Do you know how important tonight is?” “Scarlett is downstairs waiting to see the results. This is how you repay me?” Looking at his furious expression, I calmly wiped the grease from the corner of my mouth. “Effort? What effort?” “To turn myself into a cripple, or to please a woman who doesn’t want me to be well?” Pierce froze, as if he didn’t understand what I was saying. “What are you babbling about? What cripple?” I looked up, meeting his eyes directly, and asked the question I’d been wanting to ask. “Pierce, is that wedding dress really meant for a living person to wear?” Pierce’s eyes flickered, avoiding my gaze. “Of… of course.” “It’s an heirloom. As long as you lose just a little more weight, you’ll be able to—” “Just a little more weight?” I laughed coldly. “Or as long as my legs are broken, I’ll fit right in?” Pierce’s expression instantly turned ugly. He opened his mouth to explain, but was interrupted by the sound of a wheelchair at the door.

Scarlett wheeled herself into the dressing room. Seeing the mess on the floor and the chicken drumstick with a bite taken out of it, she covered her mouth in mock horror. “Oh my, doesn’t Madison want to wear it?” “Pierce went to so much trouble for this dress. How can you treat his efforts so carelessly?” She wheeled over to the wedding dress and reached out to lovingly caress the layers of white tulle. Her eyes reddened, her voice choked with emotion, filled with infinite regret and longing. “It’s so beautiful… If my legs still worked, I’d look so beautiful wearing this dress.” “Too bad I’m a cripple. I’ll never have the chance to wear it and walk in it.” Pierce turned his head and glared at me viciously, any trace of guilt from earlier completely gone. “Madison! Look how understanding Scarlett is, and then look at yourself!” “I’m just asking you to eat a little less, to wear a dress, and you have this many complaints?” “Put it on! Put it on right now! Don’t make me do it myself!” I looked at these two people singing the same tune, and the last shred of hope in my heart was completely extinguished. “Fine. I’ll wear it.” I stood up, grabbed the wedding dress with its constricted knees, and pulled it on in front of them. Without the shapewear compressing me, the dress stuck at my hip bones and wouldn’t pull up no matter how hard I tried. The hard boning rods pierced through my skin, the pain piercing to the bone. I gritted my teeth and didn’t make a sound. Seeing this, Pierce didn’t call a stop. Instead, he strode over and grabbed the zipper pull. “Breathe in! Madison, breathe in!” The force in his hand was frightening, completely disregarding whether he’d hurt me. “Riiiiip—” The crisp sound of fabric tearing. Not the zipper going up, but the lace fabric on the side splitting open. At the same time, the sharp metal zipper sliced open my back. Bright red blood stained the snow-white wedding dress. I gasped in pain, cold sweat instantly soaking my forehead. Just then, Scarlett, who had been watching the show, suddenly screamed. “Ah! My wedding dress! You ruined my wedding dress!” As if she’d received some enormous shock, she frantically wheeled herself forward. Before I could react, she actually lunged from the wheelchair and shoved both hands hard against my chest. “You’ll pay for my dress! You fat pig! You don’t deserve to wear it!” I was already unsteady from being constricted by the dress. With her push, I instantly lost my balance. “BANG—” I fell backward heavily. My lower back hit the sharp marble corner of the dressing room squarely. “CRACK!” That was the sound of bone dislocating, so clear it made my scalp tingle. Excruciating pain hit me. My vision went black and I nearly passed out. At the same time, Scarlett, from using too much force, also fell from her wheelchair. “Ah! Pierce, save me! It hurts…” She’d only fallen lightly onto the carpet, but she screamed louder than anyone. Pierce was clearly closer to me. He’d clearly seen me crash into that sharp corner with his own eyes, seen the blood seeping out. But in that instant, he didn’t hesitate for even a second. He stepped over me lying in agony on the floor and rushed toward Scarlett, who had only scraped some skin. “Scarlett! Did you hurt yourself anywhere? Don’t be scared, I’m here!” I lay on the cold floor, feeling my lower body gradually losing sensation. Blood flowed along the hem of the wedding dress. Looking at those two people embracing tightly not far away, I suddenly didn’t feel the pain anymore.

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The ring my husband Kieran White gave me was engraved with his first love Iris Yates’ name. In a fit of rage, I threw the gold cufflinks Iris had given him into the sewer drain. He held my mother’s critical medication hostage and threatened me: “Get those cufflinks back! Otherwise, you can watch your mother die!” I searched frantically through the sewer for a day and a night like a madwoman. Kieran threw the pills at my feet with satisfaction: “You should have been this obedient from the start. Don’t worry, you’ll still be my wife!” I stiffly pulled at the corners of my mouth and gently placed the medicine bottle on the table. “I don’t need it anymore.” He didn’t know that while he was forcing me to find those cufflinks, my mother’s heart had already stopped beating. Kieran picked up the medicine bottle from the table and smashed it hard against my face. “Selena Moore, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now?” I picked up the bottle from the floor expressionlessly and said softly: “Kieran, I really don’t need it anymore. Let’s get divorced. I don’t want the position of Mrs. White.” Kieran was furious. He gripped my chin tightly, veins bulging on the back of his hand: “Selena, don’t test my limits! If you hadn’t used underhanded tactics to marry me, how would Iris have developed depression? Now you want to just walk away? Don’t even think about it!” He paused, a flash of cruelty crossing his eyes: “By the way, I promised Iris I’d punish you by making you kneel and recite prayers for her.” He forced me to kneel on a pile of Lego pieces. Sharp pain shot through my knees, but my heart had long since gone numb. Kieran frowned, his tone full of mockery: “Selena, stop playing the victim. This is the punishment you deserve.” Before he finished speaking, my phone rang sharply, interrupting him. He snatched the phone and pressed the answer button. A nurse’s formal voice came through: “Is this Miss Selena? Please come to the hospital as soon as possible to settle Ms. Linda Scott’s hospital bill and complete the procedures for the deceased’s transfer.” At the word “deceased,” my whole body trembled. I tried to grab the phone back. But Kieran shoved me to the ground. “Selena, I really underestimated you.” He looked down at me from above, his eyes ice-cold. “To force me to give you money, you’d even stage a show cursing your own mother?” I clutched my phone, looking at the hospital’s payment reminder on the screen, my voice hoarse from trembling: “Kieran, I’m not lying to you… Because there was no medication, my mom is already dead. I don’t want the medicine. I don’t need the money either. I need to go bury my mother. Please let me pass.” Kieran’s whole body stiffened, then he sneered: “You think I’ll believe a pathological liar like you? You want to leave? Fine. As long as you eat this entire bottle of pills, I’ll let you go.” I looked at him in disbelief, agitated: “Kieran, you know I’m allergic to medication. If I take a whole bottle… my allergy will have an acute reaction. I’ll go into shock!” Kieran beckoned, and the bodyguards behind him immediately stepped forward to hold me down. “Selena, I told you to stop playing hard to get.” His voice was laced with ice. “Didn’t you say your mom died? If you don’t take it, I’ll have someone throw that mother of yours who’s still lying in the hospital out to feed the dogs!” “I’ll take it!” I roared, breaking free from the bodyguards, and slowly picked up the medicine bottle from the table. Tilting my head back, I resolutely poured the entire bottle of pills into my mouth. Tears slid from the corners of my eyes into my hair and disappeared without a trace. The bitter taste of the pills instantly spread through my mouth, followed by the suffocating sensation and skin irritation from the allergic reaction. I forced myself to endure the physical discomfort and staggered toward the door. But Kieran rushed over in a few steps, pulled me back, and pressed me hard against the cold wall. “Without my permission, you’re not going anywhere!” “You want a divorce? Fine. Kneel down, put those Legos together, and beg me. If I’m in a good mood, I might consider it.” His phone rang at an inopportune moment. The screen showed “My Iris.” Kieran instantly reined in all his anger, his voice so gentle it could drip water. “Iris, don’t worry, I’ll come pick you up right away.” “There’s something to handle at home. An insignificant person throwing a tantrum.” He soothed Iris on the other end while warning me with his eyes—a look that said if I made a sound, I was dead. After hanging up, he straightened his tie, returning to his refined public persona. “I’m going out. Before I get back, if you dare step one foot out this door…” He paused, leaning close to my ear, using a voice only we could hear: “I’ll make you experience what it truly means to lose everything.” He turned and left, the door slamming shut heavily. I slid down the wall to sit on the floor, coughing violently, forcing myself to vomit up the pills I’d just swallowed. After a long while, I took out my phone and dialed that number. “Hello, I’m Linda Scott’s daughter. I’m coming over now.”

In the morgue, I looked at the hospital bed covered with a white sheet, unable to find the courage to approach. The staff member urged from the side: “Please identify the body.” I took a deep breath, my hand trembling as I lifted a corner of the white sheet. My mother’s face was peaceful, as if she were just sleeping. But I knew she would never wake up again, never smile and call me “Lena” again. Tears finally broke through. I collapsed to my knees by the bed, crying until my heart broke. During these three days, Kieran didn’t make a single phone call. Of course not—he was with his beloved. How could he remember this eyesore of a wife? I stood at the payment counter, ready to pay the funeral expenses, when I received a bank message. [Dear customer, your bank card has been frozen. Current available balance: 0.] Behind me stretched a long line. Everyone looked at me strangely. It was Kieran. He always kept his word. In that moment, I felt like a clown stripped naked, exposed before everyone’s eyes. I dialed Kieran’s number. It rang for a long time before being answered. In the background, I could hear Iris’s coquettish laughter. “Kieran, you froze my card?” “Oh? Finally remembered?” His voice was lazy. “Learn your lesson. Stop talking about divorce at every turn.” “I need money for my mom’s funeral. Just a thousand-dollar deposit is enough.” My voice was completely flat, humbly pleading. Iris’s voice came through the phone: “Kieran, who is it? Is Miss Moore asking for spending money again?” “I just saw this ‘Heart of the Ocean’ necklace I love. It’s only ten million. Will you buy it for me?” Kieran immediately soothed her gently: “Of course. If you like it, buy it. It’s fine, just a telemarketer.” Then he lowered his voice and said viciously to me: “Selena, haven’t you caused enough trouble? Still using your mother as an excuse?” “A thousand dollars? What am I, a charity? Let me tell you, you’re not getting a cent!” “Get back here right now! Don’t make me come get you myself!” He hung up the phone. I stood there holding the cold phone, wooden and still, my heart shattered beyond repair. People behind me started getting impatient: “Are you going to do this or not? If not, move aside!” I retreated awkwardly to the side, looking at the sparse contacts in my phone, not knowing who to turn to. Finally, I took off the bracelet from my wrist. It was the only keepsake my mother left me, part of her wedding dowry from years ago. I took it to a pawn shop. With the money from pawning the bracelet and what little cash I had left, I finally paid all the fees and chose a burial plot for my mother. Coming out of City Hall, the sky had completely darkened. I held my mother’s small urn, walking along the cold, empty street. A black Bentley slowly stopped in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing Kieran’s stern face. Beside him sat Iris, smiling sweetly. He saw the urn in my arms, frowned deeply, his eyes full of undisguised disgust. “Selena, you’ll really do anything for money.” “Carrying around a box to put on a show for whom? Addicted to acting?” Iris poked her head out, asking with feigned innocence: “Kieran, what is that? Why is Miss Moore walking around the street holding a jar? How unlucky.” Kieran snorted coldly: “She says her mother died. Putting on a show for me.” Iris covered her mouth, exclaiming exaggeratedly: “Oh my God, Miss Moore, you’re so inappropriate. How can you joke about your mother’s health?” “Kieran hates being lied to most of all.” She changed her tone, looking at the urn in my arms, “But this prop looks quite realistic. Miss Moore, is there flour inside?” Kieran was guided by her words. He pushed open the car door and snatched the urn from my arms. “Let me see what’s inside this prop of yours.” He made to open it. “No!” I lunged forward, trying to protect that small box. “Kieran, give it back to me! That’s my mother!” “Give it back to you? So you can keep using this prop to scam money?” He sneered, restraining me with one hand while holding the urn high with the other. Under Iris’s entertained gaze, he violently smashed the urn on the ground! With a dull thud, the box shattered into pieces. Gray-white ashes mixed with dust, scattered by the evening wind. “Now you have no prop.” He looked at me, his eyes cold as a knife. “You want money, don’t you? As long as you admit your mother isn’t dead and this was all an act for money, I’ll transfer you a million right now.” My world completely collapsed in that moment. I looked at the ashes scattered on the ground, my mind blank. That was my mother… my only mother… I dropped to my knees like a madwoman, reaching out to catch those gray-white particles, but a gust of wind blew them away. Nothing remained. Tears blurred my vision. I thought back to three years ago. Back then, my mother was seriously ill. I was desperate. Kieran descended like a god, paying all the medical expenses for me. “Lena, don’t worry. With me here, your mother will be fine. I’ll give you and your mother a home.” I thought I’d found salvation, so I married him without hesitation. But I forgot that his heart already belonged to someone else—Iris. After our marriage was announced, Iris, who was abroad, developed depression. Kieran became convinced that I had used underhanded tactics to drive her away and then triggered her with our marriage. From that point on, the tenderness in his eyes vanished completely, replaced by endless resentment and torment. Now, he’d destroyed my last connection with his own hands.

I don’t know how I made it back to the White estate. Kieran dragged me back and threw me into the room like a piece of garbage. Iris followed behind him, saying with false sympathy: “Kieran, don’t be angry. Miss Moore probably didn’t mean it. She must have her reasons.” Kieran waved his hand irritably: “Go back first. I need to handle something.” After Iris left, only suffocating silence remained in the room. Kieran looked down at me curled up on the floor, his eyes devoid of warmth. “Done with your act? Now we can talk about the divorce.” I slowly raised my head, my hollow gaze meeting his: “I agree to divorce.” He seemed surprised by how readily I agreed. After a moment’s pause, he sneered: “Agree? Selena, you think divorce ends everything?” “What you owe Iris, you can never repay in this lifetime!” The next day, Iris came again. She brought a document and threw it in front of me. “Miss Moore, Kieran asked me to give you this.” “Haven’t you always wanted to work? Kieran arranged it for you.” I opened it to find a janitor’s contract. The workplace was White Corporation headquarters. “Also,” Iris took out an exquisite jewelry box from her bag. “This is from Kieran. He said I’m more suited to be Mrs. White than you.” Inside the box was a necklace I once loved most. Kieran said he’d give it to me on my birthday, but on that day, he went abroad with Iris instead. Iris flaunted everything she’d received in front of me, then suddenly changed her tone. She suddenly grabbed my hand and used the necklace to cut a bloody mark across my wrist. Then she threw the necklace hard on the ground and fell down herself. “Ah—” She started screaming. Kieran happened to push the door open at that moment. What he saw was Iris on the ground, the necklace broken, and blood on my hands. “Selena!” He roared, rushing over, shoving me aside and nervously helping Iris up. “Iris, are you okay?” “Kieran, I’m fine…” Iris cried pitifully. “Miss Moore probably didn’t mean it. She just… just saw the necklace you gave me and was upset…” “I didn’t… I didn’t…” I tried to explain weakly. But Kieran wouldn’t listen. “Vicious woman! If you can’t have it, you’ll destroy it? Iris came to see you out of kindness, and this is how you treat her?” He grabbed my throat and pinned me against the wall. “I must have been blind to think you were different from those social climbers!” Suffocation set in. I looked at the towering hatred in his eyes, my heart dead as ash. So even that tiny bit of trust he had in me had long since been worn away. He released his grip. I slid to the floor, coughing violently. He coldly announced: “Didn’t you want to buy a burial plot for your mother?” “I’ve changed my mind. Starting today, you’ll work as a janitor in this villa. When I’m satisfied, then we’ll talk about the burial plot.” He thought he could control me with the burial plot, not knowing… I’d already lost my mother’s ashes. What was the point of a burial plot?

I lived a life worse than a servant’s in the villa. Mopping floors, doing laundry, cleaning every corner. Kieran and Iris performed scene after scene of their loving relationship right in front of me. They kissed in the living room I’d just cleaned. They shared dinner at the dining table I’d just polished. Iris would deliberately spill red wine on the floor, then say with a laugh: “Selena, please clean this up. Kieran says you mop floors the best.” I numbly did everything, but my abdomen often throbbed with dull pain. Then I remembered—my period was almost two months late. An absurd thought flashed through my mind. I took advantage of going out to buy groceries and secretly went to a pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. When I saw those two clear red lines, my whole body went cold. I was… pregnant. I held the pregnancy test, sitting on the toilet, unable to move for a long time. While I was in shock, Iris found me again. She seemed to notice something was wrong. Her eyes swept over my flat stomach, a strange smile curling at the corners of her mouth. “Miss Moore, why do you look so awful? Are you sick?” As she spoke, she suddenly rushed toward me. I instinctively backed away, but she slipped and rolled straight down the stairs. “Ah!” Before I could react, Kieran rushed out of the study. He saw Iris at the bottom of the stairs and me standing at the top. His eyes turned bloodshot. “Selena! What did you do to Iris!” He rushed over like a madman and slapped me hard across the face. I fell to the ground from the blow. Sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen. A hot stream flowed from below. “Kieran… my stomach hurts so much…” Iris cried from downstairs. Kieran didn’t even glance at me. He rushed downstairs, picked up Iris, and ran outside. As he passed me, he stopped and said, his voice like ice: “Selena, if anything happens to Iris or the baby in her belly, I’ll make you and your dead mother pay with your lives!” What did he say? Iris… was pregnant too? I lay on the cold floor. Blood stained my dress. I watched his back as he anxiously carried another woman away, and finally, I laughed. I laughed and laughed, and then tears streamed down. So he wasn’t against having children. He just didn’t want my child. I remembered when we first got married, he’d held me and said: “Lena, let’s have a baby. One as beautiful as you.” Back then, the tenderness in his eyes could almost drown a person. But now, it was all a joke. The baby was gone. My mother was gone. Selena, you truly have nothing left in this world. I used my last bit of strength to crawl up from the floor and return to my room. I took out the divorce agreement I’d prepared long ago. As I signed my name, my hand didn’t tremble at all. Then I changed out of my blood-stained clothes, dragging my broken body, step by step, out of the White estate. This time, I would never look back. Kieran, goodbye.

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I was fifteen when my mom died on a rainy night, chasing after my sister who’d run off to elope. Outside the emergency room, I stared daggers at my sister—standing there in a mud-stained wedding dress, soaked to the bone. She’d abandoned us for some lowlife, and now she had the nerve to show her face here. I completely lost control. I rushed at her and slapped her hard across the face. “You killed Mom! If you hadn’t been so desperate to run off with that man, Mom never would’ve chased after you! She wouldn’t be dead!” My sister’s head snapped to the side from the blow, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. But she didn’t make a sound. She just lowered her head into the dust and knelt even straighter. From that moment on, I decided the sister who’d once cherished me had died along with Mom. “Sign here. Don’t hold up the line.” The crematorium worker slapped the cold form down on the table. I gripped the pen, my hand shaking like I had Parkinson’s. Not from grief. From rage. Charlotte,who also happened to be my older sister,was kneeling in front of the iron door of the cremation furnace at that very moment. Her once-white wedding dress now looked like a dirty rag, covered in mud and dried blood. That scumbag Jake stood behind her, the tattoo on his neck writhing as he puffed on his cigarette. He looked thoroughly annoyed, his foot tapping impatiently against the floor. “Hey, kid, hurry it up.” Jake flicked his cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it viciously under his boot. “Your sister’s got business to take care of with me.” I snapped my head up and glared at this disgusting pair. “What business? Your wedding?” I spoke through gritted teeth, each word like a stone spat from between my jaws. “Mom just died and you two are going home to sleep together?” Charlotte’s body trembled. She lifted her head—that face that was usually so gentle now deathly pale, her forehead covered in scabs from kowtowing. “Emma…” Her voice was hoarse, like her throat was full of sand. “Don’t call me that!” I screamed, cutting her off. “Murderer! You have no right to say my name!” “If you hadn’t insisted on running off with this thug today, how would Mom have chased after you in the rain? How would she have been hit by that truck?” “Charlotte, you should be the one lying in there!” Tears spilled from Charlotte’s eyes. She opened her mouth as if to explain. But Jake suddenly stepped forward, grabbed her by the hair, and shoved her head down. “Shut up.” Jake said coldly. “Enough with the talking.” Charlotte actually shut up. She obediently lowered her head, like a dog with a broken spine. Watching this made my stomach turn. Was this the same sister who’d promised to protect me for the rest of my life? She’d thrown away her dignity for a man. She’d traded Mom’s life for a man. I scrawled my name on the form: Emma. The pen tip tore through the paper. “Get out.” I threw the form at them and pointed at the door. “Take your wild man and get out of my sight.” “As of today, I have no sister, and don’t you dare tell anyone you know me.” Charlotte’s whole body stiffened. She looked at me deeply, her eyes containing too many emotions I couldn’t understand: despair, pain, and a trace of eerie relief. Jake yanked her arm and dragged her out like a dead dog. The rain kept falling. I watched their figures disappear into the curtain of rain, then turned and hugged Mom’s urn. “Mom, did you see?” “That woman is gone.” “From now on, it’s just you and me.”

After handling Mom’s funeral, I was taken in by my uncle’s family. It was called adoption, but it was really surveillance. Because of Mom’s compensation money. My aunt Lydia was a shrewd woman. When her beady eyes narrowed, you could practically hear the abacus beads clicking in her mind. “Emma, honey, you’re still young. I’ll hold onto this money for you.” “When you go to college, I’ll give it all back with interest.” I hugged my backpack and curled up on the balcony, not saying a word. I knew it was a lie. But I had no power to resist. At fifteen, I had nothing in this world except that money. And Charlotte became the biggest joke in our small town. “Did you hear? She ran off with Jake.” “Tsk tsk, you never really know someone. She looked so proper, but deep down she’s such a slut.” “Of course. To run off with a man, she even got her own mother killed.” The gossip spread like rats in the sewers, getting into everything. Every time I went out, I felt people stabbing me in the back. “Look, that’s Charlotte’s sister. Stay away from her—whole family of sluts.” I hated Charlotte. That hatred became my only reason to keep living. I studied frantically. I wanted to get out of here, as far away as possible. I wanted to prove to everyone that I wasn’t like that woman. Six months later, I saw her on my way home from school. Charlotte was wearing a faded old jacket, crouched by the garbage pile at the market picking through rotten vegetables. She was emaciated beyond recognition, her cheekbones jutting out, her eye sockets sunken deep. Jake sat on a motorcycle nearby, counting a stack of bills and occasionally kicking her. “Move faster! You still gotta wash my feet when we get home!” Charlotte stumbled from the kick and nearly fell into the garbage pile. But she didn’t make a sound, just got up and kept picking. People around pointed and whispered, contempt written on their faces. I stood at the back of the crowd, watching coldly. This is the “love” you chose? This is the person you killed Mom to be with? You deserve it. You really deserve it. Charlotte seemed to sense something and whipped her head around. The moment our eyes met, she frantically hid the rotten vegetables behind her back and instinctively tried to smooth down her disheveled hair. “Emma…” Her lips formed my name. I expressionlessly turned and walked into the convenience store nearby. “Give me a bottle of water.” “The most expensive one.” I said it deliberately loud. When I came out, I unscrewed the cap and, right in front of Charlotte, poured the remaining half bottle of water on the ground. The water splashed onto her worn-out shoes. “Dirty.” I said quietly. Charlotte’s body shook violently, tears falling in large drops. Jake saw this. He jumped off the bike and flicked his cigarette at me. “What’s with that look?” I didn’t dodge, letting the ash fall on my school uniform. “The look you give trash.” I said it and walked away without looking back. That night, I woke up laughing from a dream. When I woke, my pillow was wet.

My senior year of high school, Lydia finally showed her fangs. “Emma, honey, it’s not that I don’t want to help you.” “It’s just that compensation money… your uncle lost it in a business deal.” At the dinner table, Lydia cut a piece of cake for my cousin without even glancing at me. “Girls don’t need that much education anyway.” “There’s a widower in the next town looking for a young wife. He’s offering eighty thousand dollars.” “Go meet him. If it works out, we can even help your cousin with a down payment.” I slammed my bowl down hard on the table. “That’s MY money! That’s money Mom traded her LIFE for!” “That’s my tuition!” “Smack!” Uncle Robert slapped me across the face. “We feed you and house you, and you dare talk back?” “You don’t get a say in this! You’re going on that date tomorrow!” I clutched my face and ran out the door. The world was vast, yet I had nowhere to go. I sat on the stone steps by the river, staring at the pitch-black water, thinking about jumping in and ending it all. Suddenly, a jacket reeking of tobacco was draped over my shoulders. I whirled around in fear. It was Jake. His face was bruised, his mouth still swollen, like he’d just been in a fight. I shrank back in terror. “What do you want?!” Jake didn’t say anything. He pulled an envelope from his jacket and tossed it in my lap. The envelope was thick and heavy. “Take it.” His voice was rough, like he was speaking through hot coals. “What for? Trying to buy me off?” I threw the envelope back at him, disgust all over my face. “You two are disgusting. Done selling the sister, now you want to buy the other one?” A vein throbbed at Jake’s temple. He took a deep breath, as if suppressing his rage. “This is from your sister.” “She heard you needed tuition money, so she sold…” He stopped, his eyes flickering. “Sold what?” I laughed coldly. “Her body?” Jake actually slapped me too. This slap was even harder than Uncle Robert’s. My ears rang. “Emma, you’re an ungrateful piece of garbage!” Jake pointed at my nose and cursed. “Your sister nearly killed herself for you, and you’re acting all high and mighty?” “What did she sell? She sold her blood! Her hair! She worked in sweatshops folding boxes until her fingers rotted!” “All to scrape together your tuition money!” I froze. Looking at the envelope on the ground, an inexplicable sourness welled up in my heart. But I quickly pushed it down. “I don’t need it.” I stood up and kicked the envelope into the river. “I’d rather starve to death than spend a murderer’s money.” The envelope floated on the water’s surface for a moment, then sank. Jake stared at the river, his eyes frighteningly red. He didn’t hit me. He just looked at me with the gaze one gives a corpse. “Fine. Emma, remember what you said today.” “Even if you get on your knees and beg me later, I’ll never let your sister lay eyes on you again.” He turned and walked away. His silhouette melted into the night like a wounded lone wolf. I stood by the river, the cold wind cutting through me. I thought I’d won. I thought I’d held my ground. Until the next day, when Uncle Robert forcibly dragged me into a van outside the school gates.

“Let go of me! Help!” I struggled desperately in the van. Robert held my hands in a death grip. Driving up front was that pig-faced widower. “Heh heh, this girl’s got spirit. I like that.” The widower looked at me through the rearview mirror, his gaze lecherous. “I’m your niece!” I cried out in desperation. “So what if you’re my niece? Can a niece put food on the table?” Robert spat. “Raised you for three years—time you paid the family back.” The van headed toward a deserted country road. Despair swallowed me like a tide. Just then, a beat-up motorcycle came charging out from the side like a madman. The motorcycle slammed hard into the front of the van. The van spun out of control and crashed into a tree by the roadside. Dizzy and disoriented, I lifted my head. I saw him crawl up from the ground, face covered in blood, holding a machete. He limped over, yanked open the car door, and pulled Robert out like a chicken. “You son of a bitch!” Jake’s eyes were bloodshot as he brought the flat of the blade down on Robert’s back. The widower panicked, shoved the door open, and ran. “Emma! Run!” That voice… it wasn’t Jake’s. I turned my head and saw Charlotte, who’d fallen from the back of the motorcycle. She was covered in mud, struggling to crawl toward me. “Charlotte…” I called out instinctively. Charlotte froze for a moment, then smiled—a smile uglier than crying. “Go… Jake will hold them off… just go…” She pushed me, her strength surprisingly fierce. In the chaos, her old jacket tore. A yellowed diary fell from her chest. That was Mom’s diary! I remembered—when Mom died, this diary had gone missing. I’d always thought it was lost. I picked up the diary as if possessed. The wind flipped open the pages, revealing line after line of writing. [March 12. That bastard David (Dad) came asking for money again. He said if I don’t give it to him, he’ll sell Emma to the widower to pay his debts.] [March 15. I’m not doing well. My health is getting worse. The doctor says Emma’s heart condition might relapse. It’ll cost a fortune.] [March 20. Charlotte says she has a way. She agreed to marry Jake. They’re willing to pay two hundred thousand dollars and help settle David’s gambling debts.] [March 21. No! I can’t sell my daughter! Charlotte is only twenty years old! I have to go after her. I have to return their money. Even if I go to prison, I can’t ruin Charlotte’s life!] My brain went blank. The sounds of fighting and cursing around me seemed to disappear. I stared at those words. [Marry Jake… help settle David’s gambling debts…] So there was never any elopement. There was never any true love. She sold herself! Charlotte sold herself to save me, to pay off the gambling debts of our so-called “missing” father! Mom didn’t go to stop an elopement. Mom went with the house deed to try to buy her daughter back! I looked at Charlotte crawling on the ground. She was still pushing me. “Go! Don’t worry about me!” Her voice was hoarse and ugly because her vocal cords had been destroyed long ago. I looked at Jake, who was wrestling with Robert. This man I’d called disgusting for three years was now like a wild beast protecting its young, using his body to block the wrench Robert was swinging. “Charlotte!” I let out a heart-wrenching scream. “Why didn’t you tell me?! Why did you all hide it from me?!”

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My boyfriend and I had saved for three years to buy a house, and overnight, half the money vanished. I called to ask him about it, and he answered casually, “Mary saw a bag she liked, so I lent it to her first. Don’t worry, she’ll definitely pay it back.” The next second, his childhood friend Mary posted on Instagram showing off that limited edition bag along with a photo of them together, captioned: “Thank you, darling, for my birthday gift. Friendship forever!” I laughed, then transferred all the remaining $250,000 from our joint account to myself. And that very night, I moved out. William, since your friendship with Mary is so important, you two can be locked together forever. “Alice, are you done throwing your tantrum?” “This time when you move out, don’t come crawling back like a dog begging me to take you back.” William leaned against the bedroom doorframe, arms crossed, looking down at me as I stuffed the last piece of clothing into my suitcase. I didn’t look up, and I didn’t respond. “It’s just $250,000. Is it really worth all this drama?” “Don’t you know what Mary and I are to each other? We’re friends. It’s her birthday—what’s wrong with me getting her something?” “Besides, I told you I lent it to her, didn’t I? She’ll pay it back soon enough.” I finally stopped what I was doing, turned around, and looked at him calmly. Three years of savings for our wedding house. It was supposed to be “together,” but in reality, more than $400,000 of it was money I’d saved penny by penny. For this “future home,” I worked as a designer at the company during the day, took freelance jobs at night, and worked part-time on weekends. I gave up my favorite bubble tea and snacks. The last time I bought new clothes was during last year’s holidays. And William? He’d contributed less than $50,000 total, constantly depositing and withdrawing money for Mary. Today it was a housewarming gift for a friend, tomorrow it was emergency cash for someone’s startup, the day after that it was a funeral for a friend’s dog. Every single time, he said, “Honey, I’ll make it up when I get my bonus.” But I never saw a single one of those bonuses. Now, he’d spent $250,000 on a bag for Mary without batting an eye. He didn’t even bother to give me a heads-up beforehand. If I hadn’t checked the account balance when depositing money today, I might not have discovered it until the account was completely drained. I opened my phone and showed him Mary’s Instagram post. “Lent?” “William, you call this lending?” In the photo, Mary wore that limited edition bag, intimately resting her head on his shoulder. William glanced at it, and instead of showing any guilt, he frowned. “Are you jealous?” “You never cared before. Why are you making such a big deal out of it today?” I laughed—laughed so hard I almost cried. Yes, I’d let it slide before, time after time. I’d tolerated Mary using her “friend” status to have William abandon me with a high fever at 3 AM to go drinking with her. I’d tolerated Mary wearing William’s shirt and lying in our bed while I had to sleep on the couch. I’d tolerated Mary getting all touchy-feely with William right in front of me. And me, as his legitimate girlfriend—if I raised even the slightest objection, I was “petty,” “making a scene,” or “immature.” Over three years, I’d accumulated more than just that money. I’d accumulated disappointment after disappointment. Each time, I told myself William was just clueless, that he loved me, that he just didn’t know how to say no. But this time, I wasn’t going to lie to myself anymore. “William, let’s break up.” When I said those words, my heart didn’t hurt as much as I expected. More than anything, I felt relief. He froze for a moment, then laughed mockingly. “Break up?” “Do whatever you want. You’ll come crawling back in a few days anyway.” I forcefully pushed past him blocking the doorway. “Don’t worry. This time I won’t be coming back.” I grabbed my suitcase and headed straight for the door. As I passed him, I caught the familiar scent of women’s perfume on him. It was Mary’s favorite brand. I didn’t look back. I knew that this time, I’d truly let go.

Dragging my suitcase through the streets still wet from rain, cold wind blew down my collar, but I didn’t feel the slightest chill. I found a hotel and checked in, then pulled out my phone and called the company’s HR director. “John, hello, this is Alice from the design department.” “About the two-year assignment to the Singapore branch you mentioned before—is that still available?” On the other end, John was clearly surprised, but quickly gave me a positive answer. This overseas assignment was the company’s recognition of my abilities—double the salary and excellent for my résumé. But I’d been hesitant before. Because I didn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship with William. I was afraid our already fragile relationship couldn’t withstand the distance. Looking back now, how ridiculous. A relationship that required me to sacrifice my career to maintain it was worthless to begin with. “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll come to the office tomorrow to handle the paperwork.” After hanging up, I let out a long breath of relief. Then, without hesitation, I blocked and deleted William from all my contacts. The next day, as I was preparing to go to the office to handle the paperwork, a call came in from an unknown number. I answered, and William’s furious voice came through. “Alice, what the hell did you transfer all the money out for?” “Do you know how embarrassing it was yesterday at Mary’s birthday when my payment failed?” “Transfer the money back right now, do you hear me?” I didn’t say anything, just listened quietly. I heard Mary’s voice in the background. “It’s fine, let her throw her tantrum. Let’s see how long she can hold out.” “I know women best. Don’t you dare go soft and run after her—that’s exactly what she wants.” The next second came the sound of the call disconnecting. This time I wasn’t angry or sad. I suddenly saw clearly that I really didn’t belong in their circle. I blocked that number too.

William probably thought I wouldn’t last three days before coming back to apologize like before. This time, he was wrong. Three days later, I was already sitting in a taxi to the airport with all my overseas assignment paperwork completed. My phone buzzed frantically in my pocket, the screen flashing with calls from different unknown numbers. I knew it was him. I didn’t answer. Until a number I knew by heart called—my mom’s. On the other end, my mother’s voice was anxious with a hint of reproach. “Alice, what’s going on with you and William? He came to the house saying you won’t see him or take his calls.” “How can you run away from home like this? Can’t you two talk things out?” I closed my eyes. I could perfectly imagine the devoted, innocent look on William’s face in front of my parents right now. He knew me too well. He knew my family was my weak spot. “Mom, put him on the phone.” My voice was completely calm. A moment later, William’s voice came through, carrying a hint of suppressed anger and barely concealed panic. “Alice, what exactly do you want?” “Over $250,000—is it really worth all this? Do you know how worried your parents are about you?” He was always so skilled at turning things around. “William, we’ve already broken up.” “Where I am and where I’m going has nothing to do with you.” “Please leave my house and stop bothering my parents.” Silence for a few seconds on the other end, then he exploded in disbelieving rage. “Do you have someone else already? Found your next target that fast?” “I never thought you were so materialistic!” Ha! This was the man I’d loved for three years. “You think this is really about the money?” I laughed bitterly. “But whatever, think what you want!” “You deposited a total of $50,000 in that account, borrowed it back at least ten times, and never paid it back in the end.” “I won’t even ask you for the money for that bag. Consider it thrown to the dogs.” “Let’s part on good terms!” “You…” William’s breathing became labored. I knew I’d thoroughly enraged him this time. He was only holding back because my parents were there. Suddenly, someone else took the phone—it was Mary. “Alice, are you complaining that William doesn’t earn as much as you?” “You’re so materialistic…” I was too tired to listen to her nonsense and cut her off: “William, if you let her harass me or my family again, we’ll see each other in court.” “The transaction records from that $500,000 joint account are all very clear. I don’t mind letting a judge decide who that money should belong to.”

After hanging up, I thought William would leave me alone for a few days. But I still underestimated his shamelessness. As soon as I got off the plane, my phone started buzzing with notification after notification. My various social media accounts were flooded with messages from strangers. “Gold digger, took her boyfriend’s $250,000 and ran. This really destroys my faith in humanity.” “Looks all innocent, but turns out she’s a con artist. So manipulative.” “I heard she made her boyfriend work to earn money while she lived the high life.” “Women like this should be drowned!” I opened the post to look. William had written a tearful essay claiming to be a devoted victim whose feelings and finances I’d exploited. Our mutual friends were all liking and commenting below. “I always knew something was off about this Alice. Didn’t expect her to be this kind of person.” “Feel so bad for William, being deceived for so long.” “You never really know someone, do you?” In just half a day, I’d been doxxed completely—all my information, including my workplace and home address. He thought this would corner me with nowhere to go, forcing me to come back and beg him. I was shaking all over, a knot of anger stuck in my chest. Over these three years, I’d done my best for William’s friends—I paid for gatherings, sent gifts for holidays. I’d never wronged any of them. But now, not a single one stood up to say a word in my defense. This was the circle I’d once desperately tried to fit into for William’s sake. My phone rang again—an unknown Singapore number. “Alice, see that?” “This is what happens when you piss me off.” “Let me tell you, as long as you don’t come back and beg me, I’ll make sure you can’t survive in Singapore either.” I took a deep breath, forcing down the urge to curse him out. “William, thank you.” He froze, clearly not expecting this reaction. “Thank me for what?” “Thank you for letting me see completely what kind of scum you are.” “And thank you for letting me finally let go completely.” Whatever lingering memories I had of our past good times, whatever thoughts I’d held onto about how he’d once treated me well— In this moment, he’d crushed them all with his own hands. “Wait for my lawyer’s letter.” I said it and hung up.

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When I drove my husband’s car home, I casually activated the voice assistant: “Navigate home.” But the screen pinpointed an unfamiliar apartment complex. “Sure thing, preparing to depart. I’ve located ‘Ethan and Rosie’s Love Nest’ for you.” My heart sank. Who was Rosie? I immediately called my husband: “Did someone mess with the navigation settings in your car?” There was a second of silence on the other end, then a casual laugh: “Oh, that. Last week Marcus borrowed the car to pick up his girlfriend. Probably some cheesy thing those young lovebirds set up. I’ll talk to him about it.” I laughed along and hung up. My fingertip slid across the car’s display screen. Below “Ethan and Rosie’s Love Nest,” there was a clear arrival record timestamped 00:30 AM. I yanked the steering wheel and headed straight for that unfamiliar complex. When the engine died, the navigation system’s lingering voice grated on my nerves. “You have arrived at your destination—Ethan and Rosie’s Love Nest.” I had just pulled over when I ran into the last person I expected to see. Rosie Sullivan. Ethan’s newest PhD student this year. When Rosie spotted the familiar car, she let her hair down and sauntered over with a deliberate sway in her hips. She knocked on the window with practiced ease: “Did you forget your key card, Professor?” The window rolled all the way down, revealing my face and my not-quite-amused smile. Rosie’s expression froze. She quickly corrected herself. “Oh! Mrs. Hartwell, what brings you here?” I looked at her coolly and got straight to the point. “The navigation in Ethan’s car led me here. And here I find you.” “Explain.” Rosie seemed caught off guard by my directness, but she only faltered for a moment before flashing a coy smile. “Oh, it’s like this—Marcus’s girlfriend is my good friend and roommate. Last week when Marcus borrowed Professor Hartwell’s car to pick her up, he gave me a ride too, and we navigated here.” “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, Mrs. Hartwell.” She even pulled out chat screenshots and photos from that day as proof. Her explanation was airtight, polite and proper. But when they crafted this lie, they seemed to have forgotten something. Ethan had an extreme case of germophobia. He wouldn’t touch anything someone else had touched. Lending his precious car to a colleague he barely knew just so the guy could impress a girl? How was I supposed to believe that? I stayed silent, letting my gaze drift down to the laundry basket in Rosie’s arms. Right on top was a pair of black men’s boxer briefs. The embroidered brand initial ‘E’ on the waistband was slightly worn. I had mended it myself with royal blue thread—the color difference was obvious. I recognized them instantly. Those were Ethan’s underwear. In that moment, something lodged in my chest, suffocating me. I pointed at the briefs, my tone teasing, my eyes ice-cold. “Your boyfriend’s? What a coincidence—they look exactly like the pair Ethan lost. Even the mending thread is the same color I used.” Rosie instinctively hid the underwear behind her back, her face going chalk white. She couldn’t get a single word out. Now I understood everything. I drove out of the complex with a cold expression, pulled over on the side of the road, and started logging into Ethan’s payment apps and social media accounts one by one. But every time I logged in, Ethan immediately got a notification. By the time I tried to log in again, he had already changed all his passwords. The next second, Ethan called. The contact name “My Husband” on the screen stung my eyes. On the other end, Ethan’s voice was soft and slow, like he was coaxing a spoiled child. “Chloe, I need my phone for a conference presentation.” “If you want to check my phone, you can look through it tonight when I get home, okay?” Before I could respond, he suddenly lowered his voice: “Meeting’s starting. Gotta go.” The moment he hung up, a text came through. [Babe, I’ve been so busy lately. It’s my fault you’re feeling insecure.] [But you have to believe me—I only love you.] [And I will always be faithful to you.] But there, under the sycamore tree at the entrance of the complex. I watched silently as Ethan casually tossed his phone aside and pulled Rosie—who had come running toward him—into his arms, kissing her urgently, deeply. My ears were ringing. I suppressed the burning sensation rising in my nose, opened my phone, and started recording. Then I drove away. The radio announcer’s words echoed through the car. “Ladies, a man’s promises are no different from a dog’s bark. Never believe them.”

That night, Ethan claimed he had something to deal with at the university and didn’t come home. Yet he calmly sent me all his social media usernames and passwords. I logged in and found he had meticulously scrubbed everything related to Rosie. But I still managed to trace a suspicious transaction from years ago and followed the trail to a couple’s account. The woman featured in the posts was Rosie. The man only appeared from the hands and waist down. I recognized him instantly. That man was Ethan. I scrolled through the posts one by one. May 16, 2023—the night I was at the hotel preparing for our wedding. Rosie was wearing my wedding dress, covered in red marks, leaning in Ethan’s arms. Caption: [The house, the bed, the dress—hers. The man—mine.] April 19, 2025—the night I miscarried and sobbed in the hospital. Rosie posted a photo of a positive pregnancy test and our ransacked nursery. Caption: [He says it’s most exciting doing it in here. And thanks to whoever came before me—I’ll gladly take the clothes and toys you won’t be needing~] May 14, 2025—the night I was critically injured in a car accident, which triggered my grandfather’s health crisis. Rosie leaned against Ethan’s chest, posing for a selfie with my grandfather—tubes running all over his frail body—her eyes full of mockery. Caption: [I visited the old man on her behalf. Poor thing’s half-blind—kept holding my hand and calling me “Chloe.” Hilarious.] After seeing this, I no longer had the strength to hold my phone steady. So that’s what happened. The lipstick stain on the collar of my wedding dress. The baby clothes and supplies that mysteriously vanished from the nursery. And… What my grandfather kept saying to our family before he died, gripping everyone’s hands with all the strength he had left. “I saw Chloe… I saw she’s doing well… I saw it…” So none of it was me being paranoid. None of it was me overthinking. And it wasn’t a dying man’s hallucination. I had been nothing but an extra in their script, a fool who thought she was the leading lady in her own love story. My throat felt like it was being scalded shut. A dense, spreading ache radiated from my heart to every limb. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I screamed, tearing through Ethan’s study like a madwoman, smashing everything in sight. But among the scattered papers, I found Rosie’s PhD dissertation draft—the one she was preparing for her defense. The experimental data matched almost exactly with the academic paper I was about to publish in a top journal. I bit down hard on my lower lip, forcing myself to stay calm. I picked up the scattered documents and compared them piece by piece. The papers didn’t just “basically match.” Apart from the introduction and acknowledgments, the core data charts, analytical logic, and conclusions were completely identical. Beside them were Ethan’s annotations in blue pen. [Chloe’s lab updated this data yesterday. Remember to revise accordingly.] [What’s hers is mine. We’re married. Don’t be afraid to copy.] [She publishes papers every year. Your dissertation only happens once. Letting you have it should be her honor.] ………… I let out a cold laugh and hurled the draft to the floor. So Ethan wasn’t just cheating on me—he was planning to steal years of my team’s research to pave the way for his precious mistress? Over my dead body. I immediately contacted the Dean, asking him to arrange for me to sit on tomorrow’s dissertation defense committee. But the moment the call connected, the Dean spoke first. “Ethan gave you his spot for this year’s Beijing research trip. Get ready—you’re leading the team tomorrow.”

Early the next morning, Ethan made a point of coming home just to drive me to the airport himself. He stayed glued to my side, making sure I actually boarded the plane. Meanwhile, in first class, the professors and students connected to the in-flight Wi-Fi and pulled up the livestream of the PhD defense at our university. The camera panned across the faculty panel. Everyone saw it—Rosie had been given special permission to sit right next to Ethan. In my seat. Ethan held the microphone, his dark eyes calm, radiating natural authority. After reading the standard procedural announcements, he softened his tone. “Let me just say something unrelated to the defense. My student is sitting in my wife’s usual seat for academic discussion purposes. Please don’t overthink it or spread rumors—I’d rather not end up sleeping on the couch tonight.” The room erupted in laughter. Several colleagues and students even texted me playful jokes. But I sat expressionless, staring at the update Rosie had just posted one minute ago on her couple’s account. June 15, 2025, 8:45 AM. While Ethan was speaking, hidden beneath the table, a leg in black stockings was gently hooked around his, stroking up and down. Caption: [Being the wife must be exhausting. The professor’s lap is much more comfortable~] The defense began, and soon it was Rosie’s turn. She opened her PowerPoint and began confidently. “Distinguished professors, my research aims to address two major bottlenecks in CAR-T cell therapy for solid tumors—off-target effects and tumor microenvironment suppression…” I watched Ethan’s lips curve into a slight smile. His gaze held an almost reverent indulgence—no eager showing off. Just a quiet, tender pride that said: See? I knew she was brilliant. He had never looked at me that way. When I gave up fertility treatments, willingly exposed myself to radiation damage, and spent countless sleepless nights producing research with groundbreaking implications for cancer treatment—only to face doubt from others— He stood with them. And lectured me. “Chloe, you don’t have the ability to produce data like this in just one year. Don’t do anything that would disappoint me.” Then he took my research report and tossed it into a roadside fire burning crop stubble. But now, when other professors questioned the precision of Rosie’s experimental data and conclusions, Ethan didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the microphone and charged to her defense. “Rosie’s research design is highly valuable and extremely innovative. I hope my esteemed colleagues won’t let jealousy cloud their judgment.” “She is my star student. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she achieves even greater things in research.” Ethan’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an unquestionable finality. The room fell silent as everyone watched him stand firmly in front of Rosie, speaking with deliberate conviction. “In the field of CAR-T cell therapy, no one in this country—or abroad—has achieved more than my wife, Chloe Whitmore.” “If even she were here, she wouldn’t raise a single objection to this dissertation!” The audience was stunned into silence. The other professors, intimidated by the reputation and authority Ethan and I held in academic circles, didn’t dare say another word. Just as everyone was about to unanimously approve Rosie’s dissertation defense and congratulate her on her imminent publication in a major journal and faculty position— A steady voice rang out from the audience. “I have an objection.” The flattery died mid-sentence. Heads turned instinctively toward the source of the voice. Ethan’s expression turned cold. He picked up the microphone, his tone dismissive. “And you are?” I rose from my seat in the back corner—the person who was supposed to be leading a research trip in Beijing. I raised an eyebrow slightly and gave a polite wave to the gasping students. Then I met Ethan’s stunned gaze head-on. “I’m Dr. Chloe Whitmore. Distinguished Professor with lifetime tenure at this university.” “And I have an objection.”

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On my wedding day, my fiancé blocked the car door and wouldn’t let me get in. “I’m not here for you today.” Seeing me frozen in place, not knowing what to do, his groomsmen burst into laughter. “Game over, boys. I won,” my fiancé said, patting one of the groomsmen on the shoulder. “Damn, Lucas, you actually did it. You really got her,” the groomsman said. “Transfer me the money you lost plus your wedding gifts. Don’t short me a single cent.” Then my sister, Vivian, wearing the same style wedding dress as me, got into the wedding car with Lucas’s help. The wedding car sped away. I wanted to chase after it, but my family surrounded me. My oldest brother, a top celebrity, stood in front of me. “Lucas’s true love has always been Vivian. She’s the one he wants to marry. Today is their wedding day, so you better behave yourself.” My mother, an award-winning actress, took my hand. “Emma, your sister has depression and has always been suicidal. Only Lucas can keep her stable. Just let her have this.” My billionaire father scoffed. “She already enjoyed eighteen years of Vivian’s life. Now she’s just giving up one man. That is not a big problem.” Then they had people lock me in the house to prevent me from causing a scene at the wedding spot. I didn’t cry or throw a fit. I could barely suppress the smile at the corner of my lips.

After the bodyguards shoved me into the mansion, a system notification immediately sounded in my head. “Do you confirm choosing death to leave this world?” “Confirm.” “Please select method of death.” “I want to jump off a building and die right in front of Lucas and the Sinclair family. Let them regret this for the rest of their lives.” “Generating method of death… Method of death confirmed. After the host’s death, you will receive a system reward of one hundred million dollar. Once confirmed, this cannot be changed.” “Confirm.” This was my twenty-first year in this world, and the third year since Vivian was brought back. I’m a transmigrator. My current identity is the fake heiress of a billionaire family, while my sister Vivian is the real heiress who was switched at birth. Originally an orphan with both parents dead, I felt incredibly lucky after transmigrating into this world. Because not only did I have a mom and dad, I also had an older brother who doted on me, loved me, and protected me. But everything changed on my eighteenth birthday, when Dad brought Vivian home. All the doors and windows of the mansion were locked, and they had several people watching me. “Miss Emma, you better stay put in this house, or you’ll regret it.” Mrs. Patterson stood in front of me holding a baseball bat, looking like she was ready to strike. Her expression reminded me of a villain about to torture the heroine in some period drama. I only took two steps toward the door when I suddenly felt a blow to my leg. I immediately collapsed to my knees in pain. “Miss Emma, Miss Vivian specifically instructed me—if you dare disobey, I’m to break your legs.” She suddenly shouted, “Miss Emma refuses to listen and insists on crashing the wedding! Everyone, stop her!” Several bodyguards immediately grabbed their clubs and walked toward me.

I backed away in terror. “What are you doing! I didn’t even run! How can you just use violence against me!” “Miss Emma, you think we don’t know what you’re thinking? Even if you’re not running now, that doesn’t mean you won’t try later.” “Instead of watching you constantly, it’s safer to just break your legs. As long as I’m here, don’t even think about ruining Miss Vivian’s wedding!” “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell my parents!” “So what if you tell them? When the time comes, I’ll just say you tried to force your way out and jumped from the second floor, breaking your own legs. They won’t do anything about it!” “Get her!” They swarmed me, swinging their clubs at my body. I could hear my bones shattering. Large patches of my white wedding dress were stained red—a horrifying sight. But these people showed no mercy, as if they wouldn’t stop until they beat me to death. “If I die here today, the Sinclair family won’t let you get away with this!” “You still think you’re the Sinclair family’s precious heiress? You’re nothing but a mistake—a nobody they took in by accident! The master and mistress only let you stay because they pitied you!” “When Miss Vivian first came back, they wanted to send you away. If the young master hadn’t begged them, saying it was like keeping an extra dog around the house, you think you’d still be here?” “And you want to steal Miss Vivian’s husband? Keep dreaming!” I suddenly laughed. “So you’re not actually afraid of me ruining the wedding—you want to kill me!” “You dying from a fall while trying to escape isn’t impossible, don’t you think, Miss Emma?” I was terrified. I could die, but not like this—not so carelessly. And this wasn’t the death I’d chosen. What if I couldn’t go back? I don’t know where I found the strength, but I shoved the person in front of me down and knocked over the eternal flame my mother had lit for Vivian on the high table. The lamp crashed to the ground and ignited the nearby curtains. The mansion burst into flames instantly. “Damn little bitch, how dare you start a fire!” While they were panicking, I dragged my broken leg and escaped. The residential area was covered with security cameras, so they didn’t dare chase me. Wearing my blood-soaked wedding dress, I limped along the road with my broken leg, trying to flag down a taxi to get to the hotel. Maybe I looked too terrifying—not a single taxi would stop for me. Finally, a kind young woman pulled over and asked if I needed help. Only then was I able to beg her to take me to the hotel. This hotel belonged to my father, and all the staff knew me. So even though the security guards and front desk saw me, they didn’t dare stop me. When I reached the entrance of the reception hall, my brother and parents were all there. They were enthusiastically greeting every guest who came for the wedding, their faces beaming with happiness. Until they saw me. Their smiles froze.

This wedding had made national headlines, so many media reporters were there. When they saw me suddenly burst in, they all crowded around to take photos. My brother strode up to me. “What are you doing here!” “Useless idiots, can’t even keep an eye on one girl!” “Look at yourself! You made yourself look like this on purpose just to bring us bad luck, didn’t you!” “You want to be on the front page that badly? You want fame that much!” Mom ran over, her eyes full of worry. “Emma, what happened to you? Is that blood on your dress?” “Yes, it’s blood. All my blood. I was beaten half to death by people Vivian arranged. I barely escaped from the house.” Dad raised his hand and slapped me. Blood immediately trickled from the corner of my mouth. “Shameless thing! You just can’t stand to see your sister happy, can you!” Mom grabbed my hand. “Emma, you’re saying Vivian’s people beat you?” My brother yanked Mom away. “That’s impossible. This is definitely paint. She loves putting on a show for the media!” He grabbed my wrist and started dragging me toward the exit. I stumbled a few steps and fell to the ground. My broken leg was exposed to everyone, and the entire room went silent in shock. The bone in my lower leg had already pierced through the flesh and was visible. I had been standing before them dragging this broken leg the whole time. A normal person with injuries this severe would have long been unable to stand from the pain. Fortunately, the system took pity on me and activated a pain defense system, so I couldn’t feel any pain at all. Mom covered her mouth and cried. “Emma, how did you get hurt so badly!” Even Dad’s eyes flashed with concern. “How did you let yourself end up like this!” Even my brother, who had just been hostile toward me, was too shocked to speak. Lucas pushed through the crowd and saw me lying on the ground. “Emma?” I raised my blood-covered face to look at him. “Perfect timing. I have a few questions for you.” Vivian came rushing over too, wearing her pristine white wedding dress, looking so pure and innocent. But her face was streaked with tears. “Emma, today is the most important day of my life. Do you have to ruin it!” She trembled as she cried. “Why do you have to target me? You’ve already taken everything from me!” “I just want Lucas. Can’t you just let us be together!” My brother tried to help me up. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” Vivian’s voice shook with tears. “The ceremony is about to start. Are you leaving?” “This is just Emma’s scheme to gain sympathy. Do you really believe I would have my own sister beaten like this?” My brother let go of my hand. “Emma Sinclair, you’re insane. To frame Vivian, you actually did this to yourself.” “Go to the hospital yourself. Don’t worry—the Sinclair family won’t tolerate having a cripple around. We’ll find the best doctors to fix your leg.” I knew nothing I said would matter, so I gritted my teeth and stood up. “I just want to say a few things. Then I’ll leave.” “Lucas, from the moment you started dating me, it was all just a bet between you and your friends. You never had real feelings for me, did you?”

“Yes.” Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I once thought I was the luckiest person in this world. I had parents and a brother who loved me, and a man who cherished me like a treasure. Turns out it was all just an illusion—a reflection in water that scattered the moment you touched it. I could have chosen to stay in this world forever, to be with this family. But now, my resolve to go back was stronger than ever. “One last question.” “Why did you wait until our wedding day to tell me the truth, when you already had me?” “Because Vivian was worried you couldn’t handle it, so she asked me to keep it from you.” I laughed loudly. “How kind of you, dear sister. To spare my feelings, you waited until the wedding day to tell me this was all just a bet.” “Making me stand here in a wedding dress like a fool, watching you two get married—wasn’t that meant to humiliate me?” “That’s ridiculous! Vivian isn’t as scheming as you’re making her out to be!” I smiled bitterly. “Not scheming? Since she came home, she’s attempted suicide at least a hundred times.” “Has she ever actually succeeded? People who truly want to die don’t need to be saved!” “Shut up! How can you say that about your sister!” Dad tried to hit me again, but Mom held him back. “Enough. Emma’s hurt this badly—stop hitting her.” “Dad, I’m your daughter too. You raised me with your own hands. Just because I’m not your biological child, does that mean I don’t deserve your trust!” “You’re claiming your sister had you beaten. Do you really think I’d believe such an outrageous lie!” The moment Vivian heard that, she had an episode. She clutched her chest and fell backward. “Emma, how can you slander me like this? Are you trying to kill me!” I looked at her coldly and laughed. “If you really want to die that badly, come up to the rooftop with me right now. We can die together—how about that?” Lucas flew into a rage. He rushed forward and wrapped his hand around my throat. “If you want to die, go die alone! If you dare upset Vivian again, I’ll kill you myself!” He choked me until I could barely breathe. Just when I thought he might actually strangle me to death, he let go. “Get out of my sight. Just looking at you disgusts me!” I shuffled toward the elevator step by step. “I’ll go. After this, none of you will ever see me again.” “Emma, where are you going? The exit is that way.” Mom took a few steps after me, but Dad held her back. “Forget about her. Let her go wherever she wants. Vivian’s wedding is more important.” The whole family went to comfort Vivian. No one cared that I had already taken the elevator to the hotel rooftop. Standing on the roof, I was just one step away from going home. I was waiting for the right moment. I had to jump at the exact time the system specified, or I wouldn’t make it back. Someone noticed I was about to jump and called the police. The police arrived quickly and set up a safety airbag below. The wedding ceremony had just ended. The Sinclair family was seeing off guests at the main entrance when they noticed someone about to jump. My brother immediately exploded with anger. “Who the hell is this? What kind of bad luck—jumping from our hotel on my sister’s wedding day!” “Mr. Sinclair, it’s Miss Emma!” Everyone’s expression changed. Lucas actually laughed out loud. “Emma Sinclair? She’s just putting on a show. If she actually jumps, I’ll eat shit!” Vivian collapsed weakly into Lucas’s arms. “Why won’t Emma just leave me alone? Why does she have to push me to death! Maybe I never should have come back to the Sinclair family. Maybe I shouldn’t even be alive!” Lucas held Vivian tightly. “Mom, Dad—just send Emma away. As long as she exists, Vivian will never be okay.” Dad nodded gravely. “Tell the police to remove the airbag. Emma would never actually jump. Making such a big scene is exactly what she wants.” My brother thought for a moment, then went to talk to the police. “Officer, please remove the safety airbag. My sister is just messing around. She won’t really jump.” “If we remove the airbag and something happens to the person, we won’t be held responsible.” “You won’t need to be. Emma would never actually go through with it.” Under the family’s insistence, the police removed the safety airbag. I let out a breath of relief up on the roof. With that airbag there, I was worried I might not actually die from the fall. Lucas came out supporting Vivian, about to point up at me on the rooftop and curse me out. The next second, I dropped like a stone and crashed right in front of the Sinclair family and Lucas. The impact made a thunderous sound, and the blood that splattered covered their faces.

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