Category: English

I asked Tristan for a divorce. I wanted nothing but money. Tristan put his hands in his pockets and sneered, “You don’t even want the son you love more than your own life?” “No.” Because, for his fifth birthday wish, my son said, “Can Daddy and Mommy get a divorce? I want Auntie Serena to be my mommy.” 1 I handed the divorce agreement to Tristan Cole. He looked at it as if it were any ordinary document on his desk. His gaze was cold and distant. The only time he ever showed me any burning passion was during his insatiable demands late at night. “Hazel, if you’re going to throw a tantrum, at least look at where we are. This is the office.” He was certain I couldn’t bear to divorce him. He thought this was just a pathetic tactic fueled by jealousy. “I’m not throwing a tantrum.” I had been relegated to the waiting room like a common visitor, waiting a full three hours for him. I even had to endure the pitying glances of bystanders from time to time. How could this be a tantrum? “When Ms. Serena comes to see the CEO, she doesn’t have to wait a single minute.” “So the rumors about the CEO hating his wife are true, then?” It was true. Their CEO indeed did not like his wife. The person he liked had always been Serena. “Tristan, I want a divorce. The sooner the better.” “Hazel, what are you playing at?” Only then did Tristan lower his eyes to look at the agreement. “Hazel, you’re divorcing me for just this much money?” Yes, when I accidentally got pregnant back then, his original intention was to use this sum of money to compensate me and make me stay away from him. But I didn’t leave. Because I was a transmigrator tasked with a system mission. Giving birth to Finn and marrying Tristan was the mission assigned to me by the system. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t warm Tristan’s heart. There was no future for us. I figured this money would serve as a belated compensation. The fifty million dollars stated in the agreement was a drop in the bucket for him. But to me, it was a massive fortune, enough for me to live happily ever after. Tristan stood up, looking down at me with a scrutinizing gaze. His expensive, custom-tailored suit made him look even taller and more imposing. He put his hands in his pockets and sneered. “Just the money?” “You don’t even want the son you love more than your own life?” I gave a faint smile. “No.” 2 I used to love Finn very much. After all, he shared my blood. Over the past five years, I had poured all my patience and love into every step of his growth. Perhaps because he resented me, Tristan had no affection for Finn. When he was born, Tristan took one look at him and said flatly, “He looks a lot like Hazel.” After saying that, he threw Finn to the nanny at home. Strangely enough, Finn absolutely adored Tristan. He had a remarkable gift for language. When he had just turned three, he could look at me with a cold little face and say, “Daddy doesn’t come home because it’s your fault, Mommy.” I just took it as childish babble. Later, when he was four, he met Serena for the first time after she returned from her divorce. When he got home, he told the nanny: “No wonder Daddy likes Auntie Serena. I like her too.” “Auntie Serena is gentler than Mommy, and she’s better at making me happy.” It was just because I wouldn’t let him eat too much candy. He puffed out his cheeks in anger. I had just come out of the kitchen and heard his accusation. Suppressing my discomfort, I said softly, “Finn, Mommy will make it up to you with some new candy.” “It’s a mix of pear and hawthorn that Mommy made herself. It’s delicious and healthy.” But he snatched the pear and hawthorn candy I made and threw it fiercely into the trash can. He shouted loudly, “I don’t want the garbage you make. I only want the premium candy Auntie Serena brought back from Italy.” “So what if I get cavities?” I stared at him blankly. The son I gave birth to was so much like his father; neither of them could be warmed up. Especially on the day of his fifth birthday party. Both father and son had invited Serena. As we were putting the candles on the cake, the long-absent voice of the system suddenly rang in my mind. “Host, sorry for the wait. I’m back.” Even though no one else could hear its voice, I subconsciously walked out of the hall. “Host, your mission is complete. You have enough points to go back.” In my original world, I was accidentally injured and became a vegetable. Therefore, I made a deal with the system: I would wake up once I completed the mission. “You can also choose to stay, since you have a family here now.” “In your original world, you’re all alone anyway.” Just as I was hesitating… Finn made the decision for me. As soon as I stepped back into the hall, his birthday wish reached my ears. His voice was crisp and loud, and he didn’t even try to hide it from me. “Can Daddy and Mommy get a divorce? I want Auntie Serena to be my mommy.” Everyone froze for a moment. Tristan merely frowned slightly. “Pick another wish.” Serena covered her mouth and laughed, “Oh, you shouldn’t say that! You’re such a cute kid.” However, she couldn’t hide the smug look in her eyes. I smiled. I turned and said to the system, “Help me go home. I don’t want to wait another second.” 3 But the system gave me some bad news. “Since the central system has received too many hosts attempting a second or third transmigration, there’s now a cooling-off period for detaching from the system.” I was stunned. The system coughed lightly. “It’s like the divorce cooling-off period you humans have. You have to wait.” “Wait…” for fuck’s sake. I silently reminded myself to use civilized language and asked with restraint, “How long is the wait?” “Three years.” “Three years?” “System, you sneaky bastard, aren’t you afraid I’ll be dead by then?” The system froze for a moment. “Host, your insults are quite advanced.” After three seconds of silence, it said: “Consider it compensation for me being gone so long. I’ll increase your points by a third, which you can redeem so that your body will be completely healthy and intact when you wake up from your vegetative state.” “Fine, then I’ll get the divorce first.” That’s the reason I was standing in Tristan’s office. “Tristan, let’s get a divorce.” With a snap, Tristan lit a cigarette. He blew out a smoke ring and smiled with a roguish air. “Hazel, have you forgotten?” “Who was it that said five years ago she would die without Finn?” I was the one who said that. That year, Tristan heard the news of Serena getting married abroad. He ruthlessly tormented me all night. The next day, I developed a high fever and burned in my room alone for three days. In my delirium, I forgot to take that morning-after pill. Later, I found out I was pregnant with Finn. When Tristan found out, he coldly told me to get rid of Finn at first. I remembered the system’s words: “If you abort the child now, the mission fails. Host, you know the consequences.” I had to beg Tristan, “If I lose the child, I’ll die.” If I didn’t beg him, given his ruthless methods in the business world, he had plenty of ways to deal with me. Tristan was quite ruthless to everyone, including himself. His only weakness was Serena, who had lived in the orphanage with him and had even saved him. Later, Serena was adopted by a wealthy family. Tristan had a wild streak since he was young. He risked his life all the way from a street punk to the top of the business world, just so he could gain the approval of Serena’s adoptive parents and marry her. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to give her the massive pink diamond he had in his hand. The news of Serena marrying someone else came. A long time later, I found out. The reason Tristan suddenly proposed to me. Was also because of one sentence from Serena. “Tristan, I’m getting married. I hope to hear good news from you too.” 4 I looked at Tristan’s handsome face. But in my heart, I was thinking: I hope I never see him again. I said flatly, “Since both you and your son like Serena.” “After the divorce, you two can form a family. Everyone will be happy, isn’t that nice?” Tristan narrowed his eyes at me. A well-proportioned hand pinched my chin. He laughed disdainfully. “Playing hard to get?” Then he restrained his smile and said fiercely, “You want to play, right? I’ll play along.” “Add one clause: after the divorce, without my permission, you are never allowed to see Finn privately.” Threatening me? If it were in the past, this would have been a fatal blow to me. Because love gives people weaknesses. But now, I didn’t want to love anyone. So I had no weaknesses. Under his provocative gaze, I replied as calmly as still water, “Fine.” He was stunned for a moment, and his eyes darkened. He grabbed a pen and quickly scribbled a few strokes on the agreement. Then he tossed a copy to me. I picked up the agreement, turned, and walked away. Tristan gritted his back teeth. “Hazel, you pack your bags and get out of the Cole house tonight.” “That works too.” My current emotional state was terrifyingly stable. But then I paused, stopped walking, and turned to ask him with a smile. “The divorce certificate hasn’t even been finalized, and you’re telling me to get out already?” “I won’t get out for free. Please pay the alimony in advance. Thank you.” Tristan’s face bore a trace of anger. However, based on my understanding of him, he was quite generous when it came to money. Barring any accidents, I would receive that fifty million dollars tomorrow. Very good. 5 Watching Hazel walk out of the office without looking back. Tristan felt an inexplicable, slight irritation in his heart. Just then, his assistant, Mr. Brooks, walked in holding some documents. He had followed Tristan for many years and could be considered a confidant. “Boss, is Ms. Hazel really asking for a divorce?” Amidst the smoke he exhaled, Tristan said coldly: “She’s just throwing a tantrum. She wouldn’t dare.” “How could she bear to leave Finn behind?” Mr. Brooks chuckled, “That’s true. Ms. Hazel loves you and the child so much. Maybe she’s just having a little emotional outburst. You just need to coax her a bit, Boss.” “No need to coax her. Based on my understanding of her, within three months, she’ll come back crying and begging for my forgiveness.” Mr. Brooks smiled, put down the documents, and walked out. Tristan looked down from outside the 30th floor, at the thousands of lights slowly lighting up below. For no reason, he thought of the Hazel from many years ago. The first time she was beneath him, she was nervous and scared, like a helpless little rabbit. Her eyes were red, and her voice trembled. She even said some things he didn’t understand. “Tristan, I’m not just here to complete a mission. Actually, I truly like you.” “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing this with you.” “Tristan, can you treat me a little better in the future, please?” Tristan leaned down and sealed her incessant chatter with his lips. He also sealed her subtle crying for the rest of the night. Over the years, Hazel had been very good and obedient. The only thing that angered him was that she actually played tricks, using a child to force him. She even absurdly said, “If the child is gone, the mission will fail, and I won’t exist anymore.” He had to punish her. So for the past five years, he had never given her a good look. Anyway, she was homeless and would stay by his side until death. Her innocent plea echoed in his ears again. “Tristan, I want to have a cute child, a family of three, living in a warm little home, okay?” “No.” A person like him didn’t want a family at all. He never had such a thing since he was a child. Now that everything was in his control, he needed this thing even less. The day Hazel asked for a divorce, he inexplicably skipped a dinner engagement and went home early. “Where’s Hazel?” The nanny whispered, “The Madam moved out this afternoon.” Tristan only felt the irritation in his heart grow stronger, but he didn’t show it on his face. He just snorted coldly, “She’s acting it out pretty well.” After saying that, he walked into the study and paid no more attention to it. 6 After getting the agreement, I returned to the Cole house. I simply packed a few things and prepared to leave. Finn was sitting in the living room, playing on his tablet with a piece of candy in his mouth. Colorful wrappers were thrown all over the floor. He looked up at me and said flatly, “Daddy allowed me to eat it.” “Auntie Serena gave it to me. Don’t interfere.” I smiled. “I don’t care at all. You can eat a hundred pieces for all I care.” I crouched down and pinched his cheek. “You’re the one who will get cavities, not me.” “Finn, I’m leaving.” “Where are you going?” “Making room for you to welcome your new mommy. I won’t be coming back here anymore.” Finn frowned slightly, his expression identical to his father’s. “Mommy’s talking nonsense. Daddy said you’re an orphan too. Except for shamelessly following Daddy, you have nowhere else to go.” “Mommy, can you be a little more mature?” “Auntie Serena wouldn’t be as childish as you, throwing a tantrum and running away from home at your age.” “Mommy, just go. I won’t miss you.” After saying that, he lowered his head and went back to playing his game. If it were in the past, I would have gently taken his electronics away. And then told him, “Mommy will play Legos with you, okay?” “Mommy will go swimming with you?” “Mommy will read picture books with you?” I would sacrifice a lot of time for self-improvement to exchange for high-quality time with him. Now, I didn’t care. Whoever wants to take care of him, go ahead. “Alright, Finn. I hope you can keep talking tough forever.” After saying that, I dragged my small suitcase and stepped out of the Cole family’s front door. The sun shone warmly on me. It stung my eyes slightly. But four words floated into my mind: Living toward the sun. 7 I rented an apartment, an upscale complex with two elevators serving one unit per floor. There was no need to buy one; I couldn’t take it with me after three years anyway. The complex had a pleasant environment with beautiful scenery, and I could see the ocean right out the window. However. I could also see people jumping into the ocean. A tiny little thing was walking alone slowly toward the waves. I instinctively rushed downstairs in my slippers, crossing a street and a greenbelt to reach the beach. I scooped up her small body. “Where are your daddy and mommy?” The little girl was about three years old, with big, round eyes like grapes. Her eyes were wet, as if she had just cried. But she didn’t say a word, just tightly clutched the hem of her little dress. “Luna.” A young, handsome man walked over. It turned out I hadn’t seen clearly earlier; a man had been sitting in a hammock in the trees on the beach, watching the little girl the whole time. “Thank you.” “But don’t worry, she wouldn’t dare walk any further. I was watching her.” The man stepped forward to pick up the girl. “Luna, come home with Daddy.” But the girl clung to my neck and wouldn’t let go. Her pink little mouth let out two words, “Hug.” The man was stunned for a moment, then smiled and said, “This is the first time Luna has actively asked a stranger for a hug.” This kid was so soft and smelled like milk; she felt really nice to hold. I couldn’t push her away, so I had to carry her all the way back to the complex. I didn’t expect them to live right next door to me. The man thought for a moment and said, “Ms. Hazel, Luna seems to like you quite a bit. I know you’re single and currently unemployed.” “It’s just the two of us in my family, father and daughter. I keep myself clean, have no bad habits, and I’m a doctor…” I handed the child back to him. And used a voice the child couldn’t hear to say, “Even if you’re a doctor, you can’t use a child to hit on people.” “You even dug up my personal information?” “You look like a male model, but your actions are so creepy.” He looked at me in shock. “Ms. Hazel, I wanted to ask if you could help watch Luna for a while? Until I find a nanny Luna likes.” “Of course, name your price.” Ah, so that’s what he meant. He coughed lightly. “Uh, I know your personal information because… I’m your landlord. Ethan Hayes.” Then I verified the information, and he was indeed the landlord. I was always someone who knew when to admit a mistake and when to yield. “Mr. Hayes, I’m sorry. I was the creepy one.” 8 Perhaps I softened seeing the little girl’s pitiful eyes. I agreed to help watch Luna temporarily. She was very quiet and didn’t talk much. When she wasn’t at preschool, she would often obediently bring her little stool and sit watching me arrange flowers or draw. Every time I finished something, she would clap her little chubby hands and praise me. “So good! Hazel is so good.” I told her to call me by my name; I liked that, making friends with children. Occasionally, I would zone out for a moment. Finn seemed to never have been like this. He always complained, “Mommy, so boring. Play Legos with me.” A cute, soft little human cub like Luna was truly a healing animal. The only strange thing about her was that she often called out for Mommy and Daddy in her sleep. She would wake up with wet eyes. My heart aching, I would hold her in my arms and softly coax her. I gave her a pear and hawthorn lollipop I made. She popped it into her mouth, her eyes squinting into satisfied little crescent moons. She gave me a kiss; it smelled like sweet fruit. When her dad, Ethan, came home from work, she would show off to him: “Daddy, the candy Hazel makes is yummier than what you buy.” Sometimes she couldn’t bear to eat it all at once and would take slow, small bites. I smiled. “Eat it. If you like it, I’ll make more.” It turns out things Finn didn’t even care to look at were treasured by others. Before the divorce, the radius of my life revolved entirely around Finn. Even leaving the house for a short while, I would worry if Finn had bumped into something or gotten hurt. Maybe it was having Luna’s company. In the days since I left the Cole house, I hardly seemed to think of Finn or anything about the Cole family. Instead, the butler had contacted me a few times. “The Young Master isn’t used to sleeping without you telling him a bedtime story.” “He’ll get used to it.” “The Young Master has a toothache. Can you come back and stay with him?” “No, I’m not a doctor.” 9 A few days later, I unexpectedly ran into Finn. Ethan went out of town for a conference and asked me to help pick up and drop off Luna for a few days. But I forgot that Luna’s new preschool was the same one Finn attended. Ethan was really willing to spend money, sending her to such an expensive private preschool. I carried Luna out of the car and had just dropped her off. I bumped right into Finn. Sitting in the car was a stone-faced Tristan. Finn opened his mouth to call “Mommy.” The words reached his lips but he swallowed them back down. Even if we were divorced, he was still my son, an old acquaintance. I greeted him generously, “Hi, Finn.” But he didn’t respond. Like an inflating pufferfish, he puffed out his cheeks and ran into the classroom. The ex-husband in the car, Tristan, was also an old acquaintance. But I didn’t really want to say hello. I didn’t expect him to lower himself, step out of the car, and speak first. “Didn’t I tell you? Without my permission, you are not allowed to see Finn privately.” I was so annoyed I laughed. “I didn’t see him, it was a coincidence. Believe it or not.” I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him. Tristan sneered behind me. “Hazel, how long are you going to keep playing hard to get?”

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I transmigrated into a retro novel set in the late 1970s and 80s. Unfortunately, I didn’t become the beloved, golden-child protagonist, Lily Harper. Instead, I became the daughter of the “wicked stepmother” who was destined to be brutally slapped in the face by karma. In the original story, the stepmother targeted the darling protagonist at every turn. Ultimately, she destroyed herself and dragged her three children down to a miserable end. Everyone said she was pure evil, but in my eyes, she was the best mother one could ask for, and she absolutely didn’t deserve such a tragic fate. Besides, living in an era of rapid change, full of opportunities and challenges, who has the time to play petty games and fight over a man? No, no, no. Making money is obviously the top priority! 01 I woke up inside a historical fiction novel. The bad news: I wasn’t the universally adored protagonist, Lily Harper. I was the daughter of the “wicked stepmother” who was destined for a spectacular downfall. According to the original plot, shortly after the protagonist Lily was born, her mother died in a tragic accident. Because of this, the Harper family treated her like absolute royalty. From her grandmother, Mrs. Harper, to her father, and even her uncles, everyone spoiled her rotten. Lily’s father was in the military, stationed away from home year-round. To ensure his daughter was taken care of, he married the “wicked stepmother,” Martha Jenkins, to be Lily’s new mom. Martha was hardworking, quick on her feet, and ran the household with fiery efficiency. She even gave Mr. Harper twin boys and another daughter. Logically, this blended family should have lived a decent life. However, a wicked stepmother is a wicked stepmother for a reason. If she didn’t stir up trouble, she wouldn’t live up to the title. Martha became jealous that Lily was pampered by the entire family, while her own three children were treated like second-class citizens. Gradually, her resentment grew, and she began making life difficult for the young protagonist at every opportunity. But Lily, with her “golden child” plot armor, managed to turn every bad situation into a stroke of luck. Not only did Martha fail to gain any advantage, but her cruel stepmother antics were constantly exposed. She became infamous in their small town, despised by everyone. By extension, her three children became outcasts too. Years later, Mr. Harper returned from the military. He had risen rapidly through the ranks, becoming a high-ranking officer at a young age. And by his side was a beautiful, elegant woman. Shockingly, it was Lily’s biological mother, Evelyn Sterling, who was supposed to be dead! It turned out that Evelyn was the heiress to a powerful, old-money family on the East Coast. The Sterling family wielded immense political and financial power, and they looked down on a poor soldier like Mr. Harper. Shortly after Evelyn eloped with him, her family tracked her down. Right after giving birth to Lily, Evelyn was forcibly taken back by her family. To make Mr. Harper give up, the Sterlings even faked her accidental death. Over the years, Evelyn had never stopped thinking about her husband and daughter, living in constant depression. As Evelyn’s parents grew older, they softened. Seeing their daughter so heartbroken all these years, they eventually felt remorse. Later, when they heard that Mr. Harper had become a high-ranking officer with a limitless future, they finally agreed to let the two reunite. When they met again, it was like a match to gasoline; they were inseparable. Mr. Harper’s return was specifically to divorce Martha. But as soon as he arrived, the townsfolk bombarded him with stories of how the wicked stepmother Martha had abused Lily. Consumed by rage, Mr. Harper dragged Martha out of the house by her hair. In front of the entire town, he beat her mercilessly. He used the combat skills he learned in the military on the woman who had cared for his aging mother, managed his household, and borne him three children. Martha suffered four broken ribs, two fractured arms, and a permanently disabled right leg. Then, she was thrown out onto the street without a second thought. Her two sons and daughter were kicked out right alongside her. Lily was welcomed back to her wealthy East Coast family with great fanfare. Her golden-child aura continued to work its magic. The moment the Sterling family saw this soft, adorable little girl, they fell completely in love. Lily became the pampered princess of the Sterling dynasty. Mr. Harper, backed by the Sterling family’s resources, skyrocketed through the political and military ranks. Later on, Lily would encounter the heir to a massive financial empire, an A-list movie star, and a tech genius. All of these elite men were inevitably captivated by her innocent and pure nature, showering her with unconditional love and protection. In the end, Lily married the financial heir and had twins—a brilliant, cunning son and a sweet, adorable daughter who inherited her lucky charm… If you had to summarize Lily’s life in a few words, it would be: She had it all. And what about the wicked stepmother, Martha? After being beaten and thrown out, she didn’t receive medical attention in time, leaving her permanently disabled. With the Harper family dropping hints, no one in town dared to help her. To feed her three starving children, she had no choice but to turn to sex work in the slums. One day, while bringing a client home, she was accidentally discovered by her two sons, who had been let out of school early. Seeing someone mistreating their mother, the boys attacked the client. They were only teenagers, frail and malnourished. The client, however, was a massive, drunken brute. During the struggle, the client beat the two boys to death with his bare hands. Witnessing her sons die right in front of her, Martha completely lost her mind. To care for her disabled, mentally unstable mother, Martha’s daughter walked down the same dark path, becoming a sex worker out of desperation. Being so young and lacking any knowledge of safe practices, she soon contracted a severe STD and died in agonizing pain. On a stormy night, Martha, who had been insane for a long time, suddenly had a moment of clarity. The horrific memories of her children’s brutal deaths flooded back. In utter despair, Martha used a piece of coarse rope to hang herself. I still remember the comments section when the author released the chapter of the wicked stepmother’s death. It was a digital celebration. [Good riddance! She got what she deserved.] [That’s what she gets for bullying our precious Lily!] [Ahhh, the author finally killed off that bitch!] [Anyone who bullies our girl deserves this ending.] [That disgusting character is finally gone.] [You guys don’t even know, I wanted to jump into the book and slap her myself.] … Unfortunately, the character I transmigrated into was Martha’s daughter. The girl who was forced down a dark path at a young age. The girl who contracted a disease and died in agony. 02 I was still reeling from the original plot. Just then, a chubby, cherubic little girl toddled toward me. The moment I saw her, the gloom in my chest dissipated. Only one thought remained in my head: [Ahhh, she’s so cute! [She really is the perfect protagonist! [How could the stepmother bear to hurt such an adorable little girl?!] Needless to say, this was the protagonist, Lily Harper. She was holding a piece of candy—a rare treat in this era—and her innocent, pure smile was sweeter than the candy itself. My heart melted. I was just about to reach out and pinch her chubby cheeks. But at that exact moment, Lily tripped over a rock and fell hard onto the dirt. “Waaaah—!” She immediately burst into loud, heartbroken sobs. I scrambled forward to help her up. But my host body was just a child, three years younger than Lily. With these short little arms and legs, I couldn’t run fast even if I wanted to. Right then, Mrs. Harper beat me to it, rushing out of the main house like a gust of wind. “Oh, my sweet girl, don’t cry! Show Grandma where it hurts. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, Grandma will kiss it better.” Watching their tender interaction, I felt a warmth in my heart. In the original book, Mrs. Harper was the one who spoiled Lily the most. In an era that heavily favored boys over girls, she didn’t show favoritism to Martha’s twin sons. Instead, she devoted all her love to her granddaughter, Lily. Their heartwarming family moments had brought me to tears more than once while reading. Seeing such a cozy scene, I couldn’t help but step forward and say: “Grandma, don’t worry. Lily just…” Before I could finish, Mrs. Harper whipped her head around and glared at me viciously. In that instant, her expression went from warm and loving to fierce and terrifying. Before I could even process what was happening, a heavy slap landed on my face. The force was so strong that it knocked me straight to the ground. My vision went black, my ears rang, and I tasted the faint, metallic tang of blood in my mouth. The sudden slap left me completely stunned. The next second, a sharp pain shot through my scalp. Mrs. Harper grabbed me by the hair and yanked me up from the dirt. “You worthless little brat! What good are you?!” The Mrs. Harper I remembered as loving and kind was now a picture of vicious cruelty. “I told you to watch your sister! “And what do you do? You just play around and let her fall! “I’m going to teach you a lesson today, you useless waste of space!” As she yelled, she viciously pinched the flesh on my arms and thighs. My host body was only a five-year-old girl; her tender skin couldn’t withstand such brutal pinching. Tears immediately sprang to my eyes from the pain. I panicked and tried to defend myself: “It wasn’t my fault! “There was a rock on the ground, Lily didn’t see it and tripped.” But my defense only made Mrs. Harper angrier. “You dare talk back to me?!” Her eyes bulged as she shoved me hard back onto the ground. Then, she grabbed a nearby willow switch and lashed it down on me. Mrs. Harper put all her strength into every strike, leaving deep, long, bloody welts on my body. I rolled on the ground in agony, snot and tears smearing my face. I wanted to run, but this five-year-old body was paralyzed by pain after just two strikes. I couldn’t even move my legs. Lily, watching from the sidelines, opened her innocent eyes wide and asked: “Grandma, why are you hitting my sister?” When Mrs. Harper looked at her, her face instantly melted back into a loving smile. “Because your sister is a bad girl, that’s why Grandma is punishing her. “Don’t be scared, Lily. You’re a good girl, Grandma would never hit you.” “Oh.” Lily nodded, seemingly understanding. She toddled over on her short little legs and sat down on a small wooden stool. She pulled a new piece of candy from her pocket and popped it into her mouth. As she ate, she watched me getting beaten, clapping her hands and laughing: “Sister is bad! Grandma hit sister!” Her laugh was like silver bells, as sweet as ever. But this time, I couldn’t find her cute at all. Encouraged by her precious granddaughter, Mrs. Harper hit me even harder. My vision was blurring. I really thought I was going to die right there. Suddenly, a furious roar came from outside the yard: “You old hag! What the hell are you doing?!” 03 I forced my head up and saw a woman charging toward us. She snatched the willow switch from Mrs. Harper’s hand and hurled it away. Then, she quickly gathered me up from the ground into her arms. I saw her eyes instantly turn red, and her voice choked up. The next second, she raised her head, looking like a lioness protecting her cub. “You vicious old witch! “My girl is just a baby, what could she possibly have done for you to beat her like this?!” The Harper children, except for Lily, weren’t given proper names right away. They were just called by nicknames, an old superstition that plain names made kids tougher to raise. The original owner of my body was just called “Girl,” and her twin older brothers were “Big Bear” and “Little Bear.” Seeing Martha’s ferocious demeanor, Mrs. Harper felt a flash of guilt. She knew exactly how fierce this daughter-in-law could be. If she didn’t need someone to do all the heavy lifting around the house, she would have told her son to divorce Martha years ago. Despite her guilt, Mrs. Harper kept a harsh face and said: “I told this useless brat to watch Lily. “Instead, she was just messing around, and Lily fell and scraped her knee.” Martha’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Because of that?! “Lily gets a scrape, and you beat my daughter half to death?! “Are you even human, Martha?! “You pamper your granddaughter, but what gives you the right to treat my daughter like dirt?!” As she spoke, she held me tightly, her voice breaking. “I carried her for nine months too! Why is Lily so high and mighty? “Was my daughter born just to be her servant and beast of burden?! “Girl is only five! Lily is eight! “You make a five-year-old watch an eight-year-old! “You have some nerve saying that out loud, you old hag!” In the original book, the Harper family favored Lily, and the other children were strictly ordered to give way to her at all times. If Lily went out to play, “Girl” had to follow behind and look after her. If Lily wanted to play horsey, Big Bear and Little Bear had to crawl on their hands and knees on the dirt floor all afternoon for her amusement. If Lily was unhappy, no one else was allowed to smile. The original novel didn’t describe this part in detail; it only said that Martha was jealous that Lily was more favored than her own children, leading to her growing disgust and eventual targeting of Lily. At the time, the comments section was full of people cursing Martha. [This woman is psychotic. [It’s just kids playing, does she have to be so dramatic?] [Lol, look at her own kids, they’re probably ugly and dirty. [Anyone would prefer our pale, chubby little Lily over them.] [This is why stepmothers are all trash. [My heart breaks for our baby Lily.] … Back then, I also thought Martha was being petty. It was just asking her kids to be a little more accommodating to Lily. Lily lost her biological mother when she was born; she naturally needed more love. What was the big deal if the other kids let her have her way? But the reality was completely different from what I imagined. This agonizing beating made me seriously doubt the views I had held all along. Was the seemingly kind and loving Mrs. Harper really a good person? Was the seemingly petty and narrow-minded Martha really a bad person? At least in the moment she fiercely protected me, I couldn’t make such an easy judgment. Taking a step back… To make a mother watch her own children act as “servants and beasts of burden” for someone else’s kid. Just because Lily wanted to play horsey, her boys had to crawl in the dirt all afternoon. Just because Lily got a scrape, her daughter was beaten within an inch of her life… Even the most generous, kind, and selfless person would find it hard to love Lily under those circumstances. For a moment, my complex emotions actually overpowered the physical pain. Meanwhile, Mrs. Harper had plopped down on the dirt and started wailing loudly. “Oh, the tragedy! Why did my son have to marry a woman like you?! “Lily lost her real mother the day she was born, I just love her a little more, that’s all. “And for that, I have to be cursed out by you, you wicked stepmother!” She hugged Lily as she cried: “We might as well just go jump in the river and end it all! “Oh, my poor, tragic Lily…” When people argue in the countryside, the winner is usually the one who screams the loudest and cries the hardest. The houses were close together, and Mrs. Harper’s wailing immediately drew a crowd of nosy neighbors. Hearing her tearful complaints, they started chattering: “Martha is going too far. “With an old woman and a young child, how could she be so harsh?” “Like they say, birds of a feather flock together. “There isn’t a single good stepmother in the world.” “Why did the Harper boy ever marry her…” Martha was livid, her face flushed red. She jumped up and yelled: “Martha Harper, you tell me right now, what did I do?! “My daughter was beaten half to death, I said a few words and suddenly I’m the wicked one?! “So I should just let you torture my Girl to death, is that what you call being a good wife?!” However, no matter how much Martha defended herself, Mrs. Harper just sat there wailing. She kept repeating how pitiful Lily was for losing her mother at birth. Lily, though she didn’t fully understand, saw her grandmother crying and started bawling too. Through her tears, she lisped: “Stepmom is bullying Grandma! Stepmom is bad! “Don’t cry, Grandma. Lily will take care of you when I grow up.” Many women with children wiped away tears hearing her words. Martha couldn’t defend herself and became the target of everyone’s anger. Just as the court of public opinion had completely sided with Mrs. Harper… I suddenly started wailing too, my voice even louder and more piercing than theirs. Everyone’s eyes immediately snapped to me. When they saw me covered in bloody welts, they gasped in shock. Crying loudly, I sobbed: “I’m sorry, Grandma, don’t yell at my mom anymore. “It’s all my fault I didn’t take good care of my sister and let her scrape her knee. “You have every right to beat me to death. “But my mom just got back from the fields, she didn’t know anything. “Please don’t yell at her anymore.” As soon as those words left my mouth, everyone was stunned. “Girl, did your grandmother give you all those injuries?!” Auntie Mary, usually the most helpful woman in town, stepped forward and asked. I nodded, sniffling: “Grandma said I was born to serve my sister. “When my sister tripped over a rock, it was all my fault. “So she slapped me, then she pinched me. “Then she hit me with a switch…” I added fuel to the fire, exaggerating how I was abused. Martha’s heart broke listening to me, tears streaming down her face. The neighbors standing around were dumbfounded. “Girl is only five, and she’s supposed to watch her eight-year-old sister?” “Lily falling down has nothing to do with Girl. “How could you beat a perfectly good child like this?” “No wonder Martha argued with her. “If my daughter was treated like this, I’d fight that old bat to the death.” The townsfolk immediately switched sides, turning their condemnation toward Mrs. Harper. Mrs. Harper forced a few more awkward wails, still trying to defend herself: “Lily hasn’t had a mother since she was born, what’s wrong with me loving her a little more?” This time, before Martha could retort, the helpful Auntie Mary beat her to it: “If you love Lily so much, you should take care of her yourself. “Making a five-year-old watch an eight-year-old, what kind of nonsense is that?!” Saying that, she grabbed Martha’s arm: “Come on, let’s get Girl to the clinic in town right now. “We can’t let the child suffer any lasting damage.” Hearing this, Martha lost all interest in arguing. She quickly hoisted me onto her back and hurried toward town. Leaving Mrs. Harper and Lily standing in the yard, being pointed at and gossiped about by the entire town. 04 After getting medicine from the clinic, I lay in bed for over a week before Martha finally let me get up. She specifically ordered Big Bear and Little Bear not to let me do any chores because I was still weak. During that week, I observed this family with my own eyes. The original novel stated: The protagonist, Lily, was a little foodie. But the wicked stepmother was so stingy she wouldn’t even let her have an extra egg. What I saw with my own eyes, however, was: Lily got to eat a boiled egg every single day. While Martha’s own children only got to taste one during holidays. While I was recovering, Martha wanted to build up my strength. She gritted her teeth, dug into her secret savings, and bought a small bag of eggs, boiling one for me every day. Big Bear and Little Bear drooled watching me, but could only stare longingly. And Lily, after finishing her own egg, would look innocent and say: “Grandma, I want more.” Then she would open her big, innocent eyes and look pitifully at the boiled egg in her stepmother’s hand. Martha would roll her eyes in exasperation: “If you want more, ask your grandmother to lay two for you. “Stop staring at the little bit of food Girl gets.” The original novel stated: Lily looked like a delicate, soft little princess. But she was forced to wear tacky, ugly clothes that couldn’t show off her beauty. The reality was: In this era, everything was scarce, especially fabric. The Harper family used their few fabric ration coupons to make pretty floral dresses for Lily. Martha and her three children hadn’t had new clothes in two or three years. The book also claimed Martha was inherently evil, petty, competed with a little girl, and only valued her sons… But what I saw was that while she disliked Lily, her attitude was merely to ignore her. She never actively harmed her, let alone competed with her. As for favoring boys over girls, that was complete nonsense. These past few days, her concern and care for me were absolute. Sometimes, she would look thoughtfully at Lily. Thinking I was envious that Lily was more liked than I was, she would tell me: “If they like her, that’s their business. “My Girl doesn’t need to compare herself to anyone. “In Mom’s eyes, you are the absolute best.” In those moments, I could no longer see her as just a standard “wicked stepmother.” She was my mother. The mother of “Girl.” I could no longer treat myself as a bystander, watching the original plot unfold from the sidelines. I couldn’t just watch the mother who loved me and my two brothers walk toward a dead end. “Mom,” I said, looking straight into her eyes. “Divorce my dad.” 05 Martha was shocked. For a woman in that era, especially a woman in a rural town, the word “divorce” was essentially a myth. “Did someone say something to you?” she asked instinctively. I shook my head and gently tried to persuade her: “Don’t you think this house is exactly the same whether Dad is here or not? “You’re already raising me and my brothers all by yourself. “If you divorce, your life will actually be easier.” It was the truth. At this time, Mr. Harper was just a poor enlisted soldier, sending a fixed six dollars home every month. And every cent of that six dollars went straight to Mrs. Harper to spend on herself and Lily. Martha and her children had never seen a dime of it. The only reason her kids had survived this long was because Martha worked her fingers to the bone. She woke up at four in the morning to feed the chickens and ducks, then cleaned the house and made breakfast for the whole family. After breakfast, she had to work in the Harper family’s private garden for half the day. Around noon, she went to the communal fields to earn work points, often not returning until late at night. Sometimes, when there was less work in the fields, she’d get off early. She would use that time before dark to go to the mountains behind the town to gather firewood, mushrooms, and wild vegetables. Even when she got home, she never rested. She cooked dinner, washed dishes, did laundry, mended clothes… Martha spun like a top every day, never getting a moment’s peace. If she divorced, she wouldn’t have to do chores for a whole family of ingrates. She wouldn’t have to work like a mule in the Harper family’s garden every day. I spent a long time reasoning with her. But Martha just furrowed her brow, hesitating: “I’ve never heard of a woman asking for a divorce. “And if we leave, we won’t have a house or land. “How are we supposed to survive just on the work points from the commune?” Martha’s concerns were purely practical. Her own family heavily favored boys; she was beaten and scolded constantly growing up. At sixteen, she was sold to the widowed Mr. Harper for a thirty-dollar bride price. After getting married, she cut all ties with her family, knowing she couldn’t rely on them for anything. Her fears were justified. Leaving the Harper family meant she and her children would face a grueling period of hardship. To convince her, I lied and said I had a dream, laying out the entire plot of the original book. Hearing that her two sons would be beaten to death and her daughter would die in agony from a disease… Martha broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. I seized the moment to deliver the final blow. “Even if the dream isn’t real… “Mom. “Do you really want to watch me and my brothers act as servants for Lily for the rest of our lives?” That sentence cemented her final decision. Martha wiped her tears, her eyes regaining their fierce determination. “We’re doing it! “I’m divorcing him!”

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The night Liam’s company went public, he vanished. I called him all night, but couldn’t reach him. The next morning, news of the hotshot CEO spending the night at a hotel with a mystery woman was plastered everywhere. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I packed my bags and left New York. Two months later, he finally called me. “Aria,” he said, his voice thick, “my head is splitting. I want that hangover tea you make.” Instead, a cold, unfamiliar male voice answered from my end of the line: “Mr. Sullivan, please don’t wake my wife. If you need hangover tea, call your secretary.” 1 At the IPO celebration party, a group of executives’ wives surrounded me, practically dripping with flattery. “Aria, you really played the long game. You locked down a blue-chip stock like Liam Sullivan back in high school!” “Everyone in our circle knows Mr. Sullivan only has eyes for you. You’re about to officially become Mrs. Sullivan!” “But Aria, you should really secure some shares while he’s still madly in love with you. Otherwise, if you end up with nothing, you’ll be the one crying.” The moment those last words left her mouth, the circle went dead silent. No one dared to speak. I tightened my grip on my clutch and looked at the woman who had spoken—Mrs. Hayes. Everyone in our circle knew her story. She and her husband, Robert Hayes, were childhood sweethearts. They got married right after college. Less than six months later, Robert’s affairs were common knowledge. Their “fairytale romance” became a running joke. She cried, she fought. At first, Robert dialed it back a little. But eventually, he got annoyed, got bored, and stopped giving her even a shred of respect in public. Mrs. Hayes’s cynical gaze drifted to a spot across the room. I followed her eyes. Liam stood tall and striking amidst the crowd, a champagne flute in his hand, quietly listening to the woman beside him. I couldn’t hear what she said, but Liam smiled silently, his eyes softening instantly. I knew that woman better than anyone. It was Chloe, his secretary for the past three years. She wore a simple, elegant white evening gown, standing gracefully by Liam’s side. They weren’t doing anything overtly physical, but they looked like a couple deeply in love, enclosed in a bubble no one else could pop. If I wasn’t Liam’s girlfriend, I would have looked at them and thought they were the picture-perfect couple. Chloe caught me staring. Her eyes flashed with contempt, and a mocking smirk played on her lips. She turned her back to me to say something to Liam. Liam looked over her shoulder, his gaze meeting mine. His eyes were completely blank, as if I were just an irrelevant stranger. It was that single look that made me finally realize: Liam didn’t love me anymore. 2 I had planned to break up with Liam after the party. When I walked out of the restroom, the crowd had thinned out, but Liam was nowhere to be found. I called him; no answer. I sent him texts; they stayed on “Delivered.” I remembered the gossip I’d overheard in the restroom stalls just moments before. “Did Liam and Aria break up?” “Not yet, but I bet it’s coming. Didn’t you see? Chloe said it was getting late and she was scared to go home alone, and Liam immediately offered to drive her.” It was 11:30 PM. The streets outside the venue were empty. I gave a self-deprecating laugh and hailed a cab home. The apartment was dark and painfully quiet. He hadn’t come home. A sudden, crushing wave of exhaustion hit me. I stumbled into the living room, collapsed onto the sofa, and fell into a deep sleep. In my hazy, feverish sleep, I dreamed of eighteen-year-old Liam. He was napping on his desk by the window, while I was desperately trying to solve the last question on a brutal AP Calculus practice test. The sunlight was blinding, making it hard to see the numbers. I frowned. Suddenly, the harsh light vanished. After I finished the problem, I rubbed my eyes and looked up. A pair of long, articulate fingers was holding a textbook, shielding my eyes from the sun. I stared blankly as he shook out his numb arm, then waved his hand in front of my face. His eyes were dancing with amusement, his tone teasing: “Aria, are you mesmerized by me?” Then the dream shifted to the day after graduation. He blocked my path, the tips of his ears bright red, trying desperately to look cool. “Aria, I like you. If you become my girlfriend, I’ll be good to you for the rest of my life. I won’t let anyone bully you.” I had asked him, What if you’re the one who bullies me? I still remember how his expression turned deadly serious. “I will never bully you, Aria. If that day ever comes, you just walk away from me. That would be the cruelest punishment you could ever give me.” Through the haze, I heard my phone ringing. I picked it up and heard that familiar voice say my name. “Aria.” Without a second thought, I spoke into the receiver. “Liam, you bullied me. I don’t want you anymore.” Without waiting for a response, I tossed the phone aside and fell back asleep. 3 The next morning, I was woken up by a phone call. The moment I answered, my best friend’s furious voice blasted through the speaker: “Did Liam not come home last night?!” I froze. Instinctively, I reached out to the other side of the bed. Nothing. The cold sheets sent a chill straight to my heart. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice incredibly raspy and exhausted from sleeping too long. My friend paused, then asked carefully, “Have you seen the news?” I knew instantly that something had happened, something involving Liam. I murmured a few reassurances to her, hung up, and opened my news app. Videos and photos of “Hotshot CEO Liam Sullivan Spending the Night with Mystery Woman at Luxury Hotel” were everywhere. In the video, Liam’s black suit jacket was draped over the woman’s shoulders. She was tucked into his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you could see Liam bend down, scoop her into his arms, and carry her straight into the hotel lobby. The next clip showed them walking out of the hotel this morning at 8:00 AM, one after the other, both wearing different clothes. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, but I couldn’t feel the pain. The sound of the electronic keypad chimed from the front door. I looked up as Liam walked in. He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and finally looked at me. “Aria, about last night… something came up at the last minute…” Before he could finish, I tossed my phone onto the coffee table in front of him. It stopped him dead in his tracks. The screen displayed the photo of him carrying Chloe bridal-style. He pinched the bridge of his nose, handed the phone back to me, and gave an exhausted explanation: “She drank too much last night. She couldn’t get home by herself. I’d had a few drinks too, so I couldn’t drive her. I just got her a room at the hotel.” “When I dropped her off in the room, she grabbed my arm and started crying about how hard the last three years have been for us at the company. I listened to her until I fell asleep. Believe it or not, absolutely nothing happened between us.” Not a single word about her arms wrapped around him. Not a single word about him carrying her. I smiled. “I believe you.” Liam looked surprised, raising his eyebrows. The rest of his explanation died in his throat. “I’m glad you believe me. Aria, I’m exhausted. Please don’t act like Robert Hayes’s wife, crying and throwing tantrums.” I stood up, walked over to him, and locked my eyes on the faint lipstick smudge on his shirt collar. My smile was freezing. “Liam, if you don’t want me to act like Mrs. Hayes, then let’s break up.” 4 Liam frowned, his jaw tightening. He stared at me intently, then suddenly let out a sharp laugh. “Aria, the company just went public. There’s going to be a lot of this kind of baseless tabloid gossip from now on. Are you going to threaten me with a breakup every time?” Even though I knew he was no longer the eighteen-year-old Liam, my heart still seized with a dense, suffocating pain. I let out a soft laugh. “Is it a threat? Let’s find out.” “Don’t worry. After we break up, I’ll be the perfect ex. Unless the universe has a sick sense of humor, we probably won’t ever see each other again.” Without waiting for his reaction, I walked away and started packing my bags. I only packed the absolute essentials. I didn’t need anything else. I thought about leaving the rest, but knowing he might twist that into me “playing hard to get” and planning to come back, I bagged everything else up and threw it in the trash chute. Liam had left the apartment again while I was packing. I left a note on the counter: We bought this apartment together. Please calculate my half of the equity and wire the cash to my account. Keep the apartment. After handling everything, I booked a red-eye flight to Chicago. Chicago was my hometown. After graduation, Liam wanted to move to New York to start his company. He asked if I would go with him, and I agreed without hesitation. My only attachment to New York was Liam. Now that we were done, there was no reason to stay. 5 When I got home, my parents saw me standing there with my luggage. They didn’t ask a single question. They just took me to get my favorite deep-dish pizza, which I hadn’t had in ages. Nothing at home had changed. My childhood bedroom looked exactly as I had left it three years ago. It was as if time had reversed, and my mind and body were enveloped in a long-lost warmth. When my older brother, Ethan, heard I was back, he drove back from his office in the suburbs without a word. He got in at 2:00 AM, saw I was already fast asleep, and didn’t wake me. The next day, he mentioned he had a get-together with some old friends that evening. When they heard I was back in town, they all insisted he bring me along. I thought about it. I knew most of his friends, some of them quite well, so I agreed. When they saw me, the teasing started immediately. “Look at our little sister! She grew up! You get prettier every year, Aria.” “Don’t go back to New York this time! Chicago’s great. You’ve got all your big brothers here to protect you, nobody would dare mess with you.” “Exactly! I’ll set you up with a great guy next week, I promise he’ll… Ow! Who kicked me?!” He looked around, but no one answered. They were all trying to hold back laughter. Everyone except Julian. Julian looked past the guy and stared at me. His beautiful eyes were swirling with dark, unreadable emotions. Ethan cleared his throat loudly next to him. Only then did Julian seem to snap back to reality. “Aria,” he said, his voice crisp but carrying a faint, husky edge, “welcome home.” It felt like a feather lightly brushing against my heart, sending a shiver down my spine. I could feel my cheeks burning, completely out of my control. After a few rounds of drinks, I felt a bit bolder. I leaned over to Ethan and whispered, “Why does Julian look like a heartbreaker out of a movie now?” Ethan shot Julian a glare and snorted. “He’s a peacock strutting his feathers. Be careful, don’t let him seduce you.” Slightly tipsy, I looked over at Julian. He was wearing a simple, crisp white button-down. Under the cool, fluorescent lights of the bar, his handsome face looked almost aristocratic in its calm indifference. His long, elegant fingers rested against a white porcelain glass. His gaze, seemingly devoid of emotion, kept drifting over to me, stirring up an inexplicable feeling in my chest. Snapping back to reality, I patted my cheeks, trying to sober up. Towards the end of the night, Ethan’s phone rang. There was an emergency at his precinct, and he had to go help out. Before leaving, he tossed me his car keys and told me to drive myself home. I told him to take the car; I could easily grab an Uber. Just as he was about to argue, Julian suddenly spoke up. “I can drive Aria home.” I looked up at him in surprise. The strange part was, Ethan didn’t immediately agree. Instead, he frowned and stared at Julian. The two men locked eyes in silence for about ten solid seconds. Finally, Ethan looked away, grabbed his keys, and told me to text him when I got home. 6 Julian drove me home. It hadn’t been as obvious when we were with a group, but now that it was just the two of us in the confined space of his car, I felt completely enveloped by his scent. My throat suddenly felt dry. As we approached the entrance to my subdivision, I suddenly blurted out: “Julian, do you like me?” He didn’t say anything. He just looked down at me, his gaze incredibly intense. His dark eyes made absolutely no effort to hide the burning desire in them. My heart started racing. I was frantically trying to think of how to explain away my lack of filter. He had already parked the car. He unbuckled his seatbelt, looked down at me, and said: “Yes. I like you.” The darkness inside and outside the car gave me a surreal feeling of escaping reality. Or maybe it was the scent of cedarwood on him that relaxed me, combined with the alcohol going to my head. By the time I realized what was happening, we were kissing. Our heavy breathing mixed together; I couldn’t tell whose was whose. My head was spinning from the kiss. I let out a breathless “Mhm,” trying to end this blushing, heart-racing moment. Instead, his hand firmly cupped the back of my head. The sound of our breathing and heartbeats grew louder in the dark, eroding my sanity. The last string of logic in my brain snapped. “Julian,” I whispered, “let’s go to your place.” He buried his face in the crook of my neck, breathing hard, trying to calm himself down like an inexperienced kid. After a moment, his voice came out hoarse and dark. “Aria, you still have time to regret this.” My brain short-circuited, and I blurted out: “Whoever regrets it is a dog.” Hearing that, he suddenly laughed. A low, rumbling chuckle erupted from his throat, sending vibrations that made my ears tingle. I pushed him slightly. “Hey, how long are you going to keep laughing?” He lifted his head, looked right at me, and let out two soft “Woofs.” I instantly understood what he meant. In a split second, my face burned bright red. 7 For the next few days, I actively avoided seeing Julian. I remembered what he said when he dropped me off that night: he didn’t want me to regret a moment of impulse. He said he would give me time, but not much, because he had already waited ten years. Even though we didn’t see each other those few days, he was a constant presence. He called every morning and night to check in. If he found a good restaurant, he’d order delivery for me. If they didn’t deliver, he’d hire a courier to bring it. He knew I loved roses, so every day, a different variety arrived at my door. When Ethan found out about him, he was silent for a long time. Then he told me: Julian had liked me since I was in high school. But Ethan was afraid of distracting me from my studies, so he told Julian he had to wait until after I graduated to confess. But right after graduation, I brought Liam to meet them. Julian hadn’t had a single girlfriend in those ten years. Ethan thought he was waiting for me, but whenever he asked, Julian just said he wasn’t intentionally waiting, he just hadn’t met anyone who made his heart skip a beat. Ethan said that when someone harbors a secret crush for that long, once they finally get what they want, the thought of losing it is unbearable. He told me not to hurt him. If I didn’t love him, I needed to make it clear. Ethan didn’t need to tell me. I knew Julian was different from Liam. He spoke less and did more. His love was deep and restrained. If we were going to be together, I wanted him to have all of me—heart and soul. 8 Two days later, I was arranging the blue roses Julian had sent me. I received a call from a friend in New York. “Aria, you’ve been home for a while now. When are you coming back to the city?” I felt a bit suspicious. This guy was one of Liam’s buddies. We had never communicated privately. Still, I answered politely. “I probably won’t be coming back. Is there something you need?” “Oh, no, nothing specific. It’s just that Liam’s been showing up to our hangouts alone lately. We haven’t seen you in a long time, we miss you.” My suspicion grew. Did he hear that Liam and I broke up and decided he wanted to hit on me? With that thought, my tone instantly went ice cold. “Liam and I are broken up. We have no reason to stay in touch. Please don’t contact me again.” In a private club in New York, Liam heard that familiar voice on the other end of the line. It was a stark contrast to the cold, distant tone she had used with him recently. He suddenly remembered that Aria used to be like that before they got together. They had been together so long he had forgotten that, at her core, Aria was decisive and fiercely independent. His friends watched his face carefully. “Liam, just call Aria yourself. She loves you so much, she’d definitely be thrilled to hear from you.” Liam slammed his drink down and growled, “All I did was take Chloe to a hotel because she was drunk, and she runs away from home for weeks! Chloe is my secretary, we’re going to have a lot of opportunities to be alone together in the future. If she throws a tantrum every single time, who could stand it?” “If she wants to break up, fine. Let’s see who breaks first.” He stood up, his face dark, and slammed the door as he left. His friends were left staring at each other. After a long moment, someone sighed. They all saw the helplessness in each other’s eyes. 9 When Julian called, I was drawing my webcomic. I’ve loved drawing since I was a kid. My parents even enrolled me in art classes—watercolors, oils, sketching, I learned it all. But my absolute favorite was drawing comics. After college, I didn’t look for a corporate job. I drew comics full-time. I had been serializing the story of my long-term relationship with Liam, and I even had a contract with a publisher. Since breaking up with Liam, I hadn’t updated it in a long time. My fans were constantly messaging me, asking for new chapters. Every story has to have a beginning and an end. Regardless of the outcome, I owed my fans a proper conclusion. “Aria, let’s go get some deep-dish pizza.” After a long day of working, my eyes lit up at the mention of pizza. But the thought of seeing him alone made me a bit nervous. It was as if he could hear my thoughts. He added, “No relationship talk today. Just dinner.” “That pizza place… it’s the one I took you and your brother to when you were in high school. It’s an absolute classic, you’ll definitely love it.” Hearing him say that, my mouth started watering. “Okay, let’s do pizza.” “I’ll come pick you up.” “Okay.” The moment I saw Julian, my anxiety vanished. He was leaning against the car door, hands in his pockets. In the sunlight, his crisp white shirt looked pristine. The man looked as refreshing and pure as a glass of ice water. The pizza place was packed. He had me sit at a table, brought me a glass of iced tea, and went to stand in line to order. Thanks to his striking looks and athletic build, he caught the attention of many young women who kept glancing his way. A few brave ones even went over to ask for his Instagram. He pointed in my direction. I don’t know what he said to them, but I saw the girls look at me, lower their heads, and scurry away. When he came back, I couldn’t wait to ask him what he’d said. He casually handed me a slice and said, “I told them I have a girlfriend. I said she’s very strict and doesn’t allow me to give my Instagram to other women, otherwise she won’t let me eat.” I watched his effortless movements, listening to his loaded words. My heart felt like a calm lake that had just been hit by a boulder, sending ripples out, one after another.

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Five years ago, my fiancé died in the line of duty. His body was never found. But this year, on August 20th at 8:17 PM, Captain Miller called me personally. He said they found Ethan Wright. He wasn’t dead. He was alive and well. But he was getting married. 1 On the way to that coastal town, Captain Miller and the other officers kept trying to console me. But I refused to give up hope. I had chased him for two years, and we had loved each other deeply for five. He had proposed to me twice. How could he possibly forget me? I rubbed the simple silver band on my finger. He had clearly proposed to me. How could he marry someone else? We took a flight, then a bus. The five-hour bus ride made me violently carsick, but after ten grueling hours, the four of us finally arrived at the small town. “Over there.” Captain Miller pointed to a bed and breakfast called Sunny Days. It was an obscure little inn that had suddenly gone viral because of a set of photos posted by a tourist. In those photos, the owner had accidentally stepped into the frame and gained countless fans. Even though it was just his side profile, it was enough to drive people crazy. Captain Miller glanced at me. “He doesn’t remember anything. You have to be prepared…” I stared intently at that door, my senses completely shutting down. When Captain Miller pushed the door open, a wind chime made of seashells let out a crisp, clear sound. Before us was a massive courtyard. A cobblestone path led straight to the house. There was a huge swing set, a Golden Retriever, and several cats. I stared at the little animals in surprise. Suddenly, a figure emerged from behind a curtain of strung seashells. He was tall, with long legs. The muscles of his arms flexed smoothly under a black t-shirt. The sharp contours of his profile were striking. The moment I laid eyes on him, my body froze uncontrollably. My back went numb, and my head buzzed. It felt like all my bodily functions had shut down simultaneously. I could only use every ounce of strength I had to stare at the man standing in front of me. I had seen people who looked 80% like Ethan Wright before, even down to the exact placement of a beauty mark under their eye. But one look was always enough to know they weren’t him. The man before me looked vastly different from the young man I knew. His features were more mature, sharper, and colder than the Ethan of my youth. I couldn’t stop myself from moving closer, and closer, until I clearly saw the beauty mark under his eye and the red string around his neck… “Ethan… Wright…” I choked back a sob, calling his name softly, terrified I might scare him away. He looked up at me, his eyes incredibly, utterly unfamiliar. “Excuse me?” “Ethan… Wright…” I could barely articulate his name. The man looked at me with cold indifference. “I’m sorry, Miss. You have the wrong person.” I could mistake anything in this world, but I would never, ever mistake Ethan Wright. He was half of my very soul. Captain Miller quickly pulled me back. “Sorry about that. Do you still have vacant rooms?” Ethan crossed his arms and scrutinized us closely. “Yes. How many?” “Two.” “Come on in.” He turned and walked straight into the house, not sparing me another glance. I had naively thought that as long as he saw me, he would definitely remember me. If he just saw me! Everything would change… But the way he looked at me was so unfamiliar and sharp, carrying a hint of annoyance at being disturbed by a stranger. When I heard he was alive, I didn’t cry. When I heard he was getting married, I didn’t cry either. But thinking about the look in his eyes just now, my heart felt like it was being crushed in someone’s fist, aching so badly it felt like it would explode. The tears fell uncontrollably. 2 “IDs.” Captain Miller handed over our IDs. When the man took them, I saw it clearly: the tip of his left pinky finger was missing. As he walked toward the counter, he walked with a slight limp in his right leg. I covered my mouth with my hand. Captain Miller grabbed the room keys and quickly had someone lead me outside. I sat in my room for a long time before I found my voice. “How did he end up like this?” On the way here, I swore to myself that when we met, I would slap him hard across the face. That heartless jerk, how could he forget me and marry another woman?! But the moment I saw him, I suddenly couldn’t bear to do it. I just wanted to hug him… I stayed in the room for a long time. So long that Sarah, one of the officers, dragged me out, afraid I might do something drastic. Everyone was having a barbecue in the backyard. I immediately spotted Ethan grilling skewers. Captain Miller stood next to him, and the two seemed to be having a good conversation. “Chloe, feeling better?” I nodded. “Ethan, let me introduce you. This is Chloe.” I slowly reached out my hand, fighting to keep it from shaking. “Chloe Adams. Nice to meet you.” A broad, warm palm gave my hand a brief, polite shake. “Ethan. Nice to meet you.” It was the greeting of absolute strangers. In that instant, my nose stung. I remembered right after he proposed; he held me so gently, practically melting, and whispered tenderly, “Mrs. Wright, nice to meet you.” We had lost each other after all. Looking at the man in front of me, I had a million questions. But in the end, I only asked one: “It’s beautiful here. Have you been doing well?” He skillfully flipped the skewers on the grill and answered casually, “Pretty well.” That’s good, then. As we spoke, a chicken wing accidentally dropped. He looked toward the door. “Potato, come here.” Potato was the name of the orange tabby we had adopted together. He even picked the name. He had said, “He’s fat and round. If we don’t call him Potato, what else would we call him?” Watching a large Golden Retriever bounding over, my throat tightened. “His name is Potato?” “Yeah, he’s fat and round. What else would I call him?” I turned away and discreetly wiped my tears. Only he could come up with such a tacky name. The skewers were done, and everyone gathered around to eat. Seeing the beer on the table, I grabbed a can and poured it down my throat. The bitter taste spread through my mouth. I looked at the man across from me. The beauty mark I used to tease him about was still by his eye, and the red string still hung around his neck. I just didn’t know if it was the one I gave him. None of this felt real. Sarah handed out the skewers. Just as she placed a mushroom on his plate, he reached out before her. “No, he can’t eat mushrooms.” Suddenly, everyone at the table was staring at me. Just as I was feeling awkward, a figure ran over and jumped onto Ethan’s back, affectionately nuzzling his neck. “Ethan, I missed you so much!” Ethan quickly bent down, putting a hand behind him to support her. “Get down.” It sounded like a scolding, but all I heard was pure adoration. He pulled the person on his back into his arms, smiling as he introduced her. “This is my wife, Lily.” 3 I still held the mushroom skewer. I stared blankly at the girl whose smile was as bright as the sun. My chest trembled. It felt like I had been struck by a heavy hammer, the pain stealing my breath. “Hi everyone, I’m Lily, Ethan’s wife. Welcome to Ocean City.” Captain Miller and the others took turns greeting her. Lily was very talkative. She complimented everyone. She complimented me: “Chloe, you’re so pretty! And so skinny, I’m so jealous! You have such great hair too. Not like me, I’m going bald soon.” As she spoke, she suddenly remembered something and turned to look at the man behind her. “It’s definitely because you have a problem with how you blow-dry my hair. Be careful, or I’ll be a bald bride at our wedding next week.” Ethan ruffled her hair, letting out a helpless chuckle. “Okay.” Looking at her clear eyes, unclouded by a single speck of dust, filled with anticipation for her wedding, she looked exactly like I once did. “A wedding?” Sarah asked. “Yes! Our wedding is next Wednesday. I hope you can all make it!” I cracked open another can of beer. Lily grabbed one too, but it was snatched away by the man before she could even hold it properly. “No drinking.” Lily whined, “Just one sip.” Without caring that we were there, she sneaked a quick kiss on his cheek. “Please, Ethan, just one sip. Just one!” “Drink this.” It was a white mug with rose petals floating inside. When he opened the lid, the scent of rose tea drifted out. Lily frowned. “Rose? Ethan! I’ve told you eight hundred times, I don’t like floral teas. How do you forget every single time?!” “I don’t know… I just make it out of habit.” Hearing his words, I turned my head and finished the last drop of my beer. I hated drinking water. In high school, I spent so much time reciting texts that my throat was always strained. When it got really bad, I couldn’t even speak. To get me to drink more water, Ethan would try everything, constantly rotating between floral teas, fruit teas, and oolong tea. In the winter, he would even boil apple and pear water for me. Every time I drank an extra glass, the usually arrogant young master Ethan acted like he wanted to build a shrine for my pink thermos. Seeing me drink beer, Lily tried to negotiate again. “Look, Chloe has already finished a can. Maybe her hair is so nice because she drinks beer.” “Quiet.” I looked at the beer next to me, offering a bitter smile. “My ex-boyfriend wouldn’t let me drink either. He knew I was a lightweight, so he was super strict about it.” Lily looked at me. “Then aren’t you worried he’ll get mad if you drink like this now?” I glanced behind her and shook my head. “He stopped caring a long time ago.” Realizing she had probably said the wrong thing, Lily looked at me apologetically and stopped fussing. She obediently held Ethan’s mug and drank it all. I only ate that one mushroom skewer, but I drank quite a bit. My head felt a bit dizzy, so I headed back to my room early. As I walked down the steps, I heard Lily’s bright laughter. I looked back and saw Lily clinging to Ethan’s back like a sloth, waving her arms and chattering endlessly. Ethan stumbled slightly under her weight, but he maintained his good temper, looking down to clear the table, as if he were entirely used to it. Ethan Wright was not a man with a good temper. I used to think he only had a good temper for me. I used to think he would only love me in this lifetime… Looking at Lily, whose face overflowed with happiness, I clutched my violently aching heart, feeling so much pain I wanted to die. That was supposed to be me! I was the one who was supposed to be spoiled rotten by Ethan Wright! I fought the urge to tear them apart and forced myself back to my room. I dumped everything out of my bag onto the floor until I found my pills and swallowed them. Only then did the tidal wave of my emotions slowly begin to recede. By the time Sarah came in, I had returned to normal. “I thought you were going to make a huge scene.” I looked out the window. “I planned to. But suddenly, I couldn’t bear to.” “I saw you brought so many things. Were you hoping to help Ethan regain his memory?” That suitcase held ten years of our lives. It had the first note he ever passed me, his first love letter, and every gift he gave me from my 18th to my 28th birthday. It had our first photo together and our first wedding portrait. I shook my head. “Never thought about it.” Sarah looked at me in shock. “Why… why not?” Thinking of the tragic death of Ethan’s parents, I closed my eyes, steadying my emotions. “The pain of losing family… I don’t want him to have to endure it twice.” 4 I woke up very late the next day. By the time I got ready and went outside with my sketchbook, it was past lunchtime. Sarah waved at me. “Chloe, I saved you some food.” Everyone was chatting at the wooden table in the courtyard. When Lily saw me, she practically sprinted into the house and came back out holding an orange envelope. She handed it to me like she was presenting a treasure. “Chloe, we don’t have much family. We’d like to formally invite you to our wedding.” It was a very formal invitation. I took the envelope, lacking the courage to pull out the invitation card inside. Lily kept urging me, “Chloe, you studied art, right? Can you tell us how the design looks?” That thin piece of paper felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. “Here, let me see. Wow, the color is gorgeous,” Sarah quickly interjected. “I know, right?! Ethan picked this orange. I wanted purple, but the orange looks so much better. What’s your favorite color, Chloe?” I put down my sketchbook and pointed to my orange sweater. Before high school, I didn’t have a favorite color. Until one day, I wore an orange jacket, and Ethan told me I looked really good in orange. From then on, orange became my favorite color. “Chloe, you and my Ethan have such similar taste!” My Ethan. Hearing those two words was incredibly jarring. Once upon a time, Ethan’s favorite thing to call me in front of others was “My Chloe.” Seeing my expression, Sarah immediately took the invitation from my hand. “The cartoon inside looks like you. It’s very cute. But wait, is this sunset? The wedding is in the evening?” Lily rubbed her cheeks. “Ethan insisted on it! Because he said…” “Because someone couldn’t wake up in time.” Lily stared at me blankly. “Chloe! How did you know?! That’s exactly what Ethan said! But the main reason is that Ethan really loves the sunset.” Ethan had said that out of the entire day, he loved the evening most, because in the evening, Sleeping Beauty woke up and became his girlfriend. I’m naturally a heavy sleeper. Waking up at 5:30 AM in high school was basically the ultimate form of torture. For those three years, every single morning, I would sit on the back of Ethan’s bike, close my eyes, hug him, and keep sleeping. During our ten-minute breaks between classes, I could manage to squeeze in three separate dreams. Every time I woke up, his school jacket was always draped over my shoulders. I remember one time when I was half-asleep, someone sighed in my ear. “Sigh, you sleep so much. What am I going to do with you on the day I marry you?” Fast forward to my 24th birthday. I woke up to the scratch of his stubble against my face in the morning. I pushed him away to go back to sleep. He pulled me into his arms, gently patted my back, and said in a husky voice, “Chloe, let’s have our wedding in the evening!” I grunted in agreement. He kissed my forehead and let out a contented sigh. “I have to make sure my little sleepyhead gets enough rest. What if you throw a tantrum and refuse to marry me? Who would I complain to then?” And now… it wasn’t that I wouldn’t marry him, but that he wasn’t marrying me. I really had no one to complain to. I stood up and picked up my sketchbook. In that split second, Lily saw the ring on my ring finger. Seeing her gaze, I wiggled my hand. “Because he said the exact same thing.” “Are you married, Chloe?” “Yes. I’ve been married for five years.” Lily looked surprised. “What about your husband? Didn’t he come with you?” I looked at the man walking towards us in the distance and gave a slight shake of my head. 5 As I walked out the main gate of the inn, Lily’s laughter followed me. She was telling Sarah the story of how Ethan proposed. I walked faster, feeling as if a demon were chasing me. I found an empty spot, set up my easel, and just as I picked up my palette, a wave of dizziness hit me. I took my pillbox out of my pocket. After swallowing the medicine, the discomfort slowly faded. I hadn’t been a lucky person since childhood. I had no parents, no friends, and never even won a “free drink” under a bottle cap. I thought Lady Luck hated me. Until that day. I won the stuffed animal I had wanted for ages from a claw machine, got a free bubble tea, and won a $5,000 cash prize from a promotional event at the supermarket. Even the soda I bought for my friend Maya had a “free drink” under the cap. Maya looked at me, grinning. “Lady Luck must be watching over you today.” I couldn’t believe it. How could someone as unlucky as me suddenly be so fortunate? Just as our car was turning a corner, it suddenly lost control and accelerated forward. Seeing the wall getting closer and closer, I screamed in terror. Crash! The car smashed through the wall. Surprisingly, there was almost zero impact. Through the gaps in my fingers, I faintly saw orange lights and the scent of flowers spreading through the air, landing on a man in a suit standing in the center. Ethan stood in a sea of flowers, wearing an impeccably tailored suit. All our friends and family were dressed to the nines. Even Potato was sitting next to him wearing a tiny, handsome tuxedo. I stared in shock at the scene before me until Ethan walked over and opened the door. I still remember the first thing he said to me. He said, “Miss Adams, it’s time.” That was our secret code. Time to eat, time for school to end, time to kiss, time for you to marry me and for me to marry you. He carried me out of the car. Applause erupted around us. Ethan, a man who had faced life-and-death situations for years, was actually so nervous he stumbled over his words. “Chloe, did you have a good day today?” I was so choked up I couldn’t speak; I could only nod vigorously. He smiled, looking impossibly mischievous. “Chloe, there’s something very, very important I need you to help me with. And you’re the only one who can do it.” I looked at him. “What?” “Be my wife.” “Marry me, and I’ll make sure you’re this lucky every single day.” “Plus, it’s a buy-one-get-two deal right now. Maybe even get-three!” It was strange. So many things with Ethan happened so naturally, without any need for buildup or “what-ifs.” It was just like how I knew he would definitely marry me, and he knew I would marry no one else but him. On the way back after he proposed that day, he bought a lottery ticket. He told me, “If we win, the three million is all yours.” “And if we don’t?” I asked him. He looked completely serene. “It means marrying you used up all my luck.” I laughed so hard. I looked at him dead seriously and said, “I’ve always felt like I had terrible luck. Turns out I was saving it all up just to meet you!” “Damn straight! You saved up eighteen years of luck to meet me. I hope you cherish me properly.” I leaned over, kissed him, and said very solemnly, “I will.” When the sun began to set, I stared greedily at the fiery red sky. The words still echoed in my ears, but the person who said them was no longer mine. By the time I packed up my easel and headed back, the lights outside the inn were already on. As I got closer, I saw a figure standing by the door. A fiery red spark floated in the air, and the smell of nicotine drifted over. I frowned at the man standing there. When he heard me approach and turned his head, I actually saw a flash of panic in his eyes. He quickly stubbed out the cigarette and awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, looking exactly like he used to every time he got caught smoking. I stood frozen in place, using every ounce of self-control to ignore him. But just as we brushed past each other, I heard him say: “Chloe Adams, I remember you.” 6 With a massive boom, I felt all the blood in my body rush straight to my head. Did my Ethan come back? I turned around stiffly. My shoulders and calves trembled involuntarily, and my heart quivered along with them. His name was right on the tip of my tongue, but it died there when I met his flat, emotionless gaze. Ethan never looked at me with those eyes. When he looked at me, there was always a smile, his eyes filled with a tenderness that wrapped heavily around me. The sudden, extreme swing from joy to despair made my heart ache sharply. I lowered my head, hiding my reddened eyes from him. “Captain Miller told me, but he didn’t mention you.” He analyzed the situation slowly. “I feel like you’re very familiar, but not in a ‘colleague’ way. Every time I see you, I feel this weird sense of guilt, and maybe even a little fear of you. You knew I was allergic to mushrooms, and the red string around your neck is exactly like mine.” The red string was from when we went to a temple together to pray for blessings. I prayed for his safety, and he prayed that I would get everything I wished for. The string had two silver tags with our initials. I forgot. Ethan used to be a recon soldier. Even without his memory, it was in his bones. He was sharp. Captain Miller and the others had been acting uncharacteristically enthusiastic, which he obviously noticed. It only took him a day or two to guess that something was up. And my identity… he probably either couldn’t guess it, or he guessed it but refused to believe it. I slowly lifted my head, meeting his assessing gaze. But he looked down at my ring. “Lily said you’re married, you… me.” Even though his hands were in his pockets, I knew his fists were clenched tight. His mind must have been a chaotic mess. Of course. A man blindly in love, ready to marry the girl of his dreams, suddenly confronted with a woman who might have a complicated past with him—he was definitely in turmoil. My throat was so dry and tight I could barely make a sound. After several attempts, I slowly opened my mouth. “I am indeed married, but… it has nothing to do with you.” I could visibly see him let out a sigh of relief. That second was the most painful second of my life. I never, ever imagined a day would come when Ethan Wright would feel relieved that he had nothing to do with me. I still remember high school. When I caught him sneaking glances at me, the tips of his ears turned red, and he looked so flustered. And when I agreed to be his girlfriend, he was so happy it seemed like he had won the world. I had only ever seen him smile that deeply, that fulfillingly, twice in my life. “Then what about him?” I looked at the man in front of me, and the tears just wouldn’t stay back. He looked at me, panicked, and apologized. “I’m sorry, I…” I bent down and raised a hand, stopping his movements. “Your parents pitied me and raised me like a daughter. I don’t really have a relationship with you. I’m mainly just here to check on you for them. As for the red string.” I gave it a hard yank, and the string fell. “Your parents prayed for your safety, and they just happened to get one for me too.” Ethan looked at me in silence. But I had no strength left to keep lying. Those few sentences should be enough to let him marry in peace. I don’t know how I made it back to my room. I thought I had kept it together pretty well, but the moment I turned around, the tears flowed like a broken dam. Tears ruined my makeup. Staring at my exhausted, sickly reflection in the mirror, I covered my face, crouched in the corner of the bathroom, and cried for a long time. Five years! I dreamed of Ethan coming back to me! But the moment he appeared, I had to push him away! Why was this happening to me?! Why did it have to be me?! Because of the massive emotional swing, my stomach started churning, and the taste of blood rose in my throat. “Chloe, are you okay? Open the door.” I braced myself against the wall and stood up, mechanically flushing the toilet. I quickly touched up my tear-streaked makeup and walked out, trying to act as if everything was normal. “I’m fine, just slipped and fell.” The pity in Sarah’s eyes made my heart ache. “You don’t have to hold it in around me.” I turned my face away. “I’m fine.” Sarah looked at me, hesitating, but ultimately just patted me and told me to get back in bed. The moment I turned around, I saw the item on the table again. An orange invitation. An evening wedding. That was supposed to be mine! In that moment, I felt so incredibly, overwhelmingly bitter. My emotions took over. I rushed out the door, heading straight for the lobby. I was going to tell him that I was his fiancée!

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I turned into a ghost and wandered for ten years. An internet streamer found my treasured, half-burnt photo, and started a viral campaign: “Finding Liam.” When I finally saw him again, he was about to get married. I just wanted to disappear… But when I actually disappeared, he ended up dying alone. Right before he died, he was still holding that half-burnt photo. 1 The night I died, a sudden fire broke out at the psychiatric hospital. Because of the hospital’s special design, many patients couldn’t escape and perished in the flames. After I died, I just wandered around the hospital. At first, I had a few companions. But as time went on, they gradually faded away. Leaving me here all alone. I couldn’t wander too far from the hospital, so I spent my days sitting by the window, letting time slip away. I watched the sunset so many times, way more than forty-four times. Ten years passed like this. The hospital slowly fell into ruin. The weeds outside grew taller and taller, thorns wrapped around the crumbling walls, and wild roses bloomed amidst the rubble. The locals said the place was haunted by a female ghost who ate people. They warned their children to stay away, saying the ghost would snatch them if they misbehaved. Absolute nonsense! I have never eaten a person! And I definitely wouldn’t snatch a child! … One day, a girl suddenly appeared, holding her phone and talking to herself: “Hey guys, it’s your girl Chloe! I’m here at the legendary haunted Greenview Psychiatric Hospital. It’s been abandoned for ten years. Rumor has it that a massive fire broke out here, killing twenty-seven people. They say the youngest victim was only eighteen. After the fire, the director was even arrested. Tonight, we’re going to explore this place and see if there are really ghosts here.” I floated over her shoulder and peeked at her phone. I got it! She was live-streaming! Some of the locals did that to make money too. She suddenly shrunk her neck and continued: “Even though it’s been ten years, you can still see how huge the fire was. The walls are all black, the scorch marks are everywhere…” She walked and talked, eventually making her way into my old room. She panned the camera around the pitch-black room, and her eyes landed on a corner of the wall. Chloe crouched down and pulled a blackened tin box from a crack in the wall. I was jumping up and down anxiously. “That’s mine!” “Mine!” “Don’t touch it!” But she couldn’t hear me, and she even opened my tin box. “Ah!” My secret was exposed just like that. She was so mean! She picked up the half-burnt photo inside and showed it to the camera: “Look guys! The girl in this photo is so pretty. She looks really young, I wonder if she was even an adult.” I snorted angrily: “Don’t think I’ll forgive you just because you called me pretty! And yes, I was an adult! Not little at all!” I even had a boyfriend! Comments started rolling across the screen— [Could she be the patient who died at eighteen?] [The spirits of minors who die tragically are super vengeful! Better not touch her stuff!] [What a shame, so young, and she’s gone.] [I heard this hospital had insanely strict security measures back then. Otherwise, when the fire started, so many patients wouldn’t have been trapped inside.] [Wait, look next to the photo. You can see a shoulder wearing a black jacket, looks like a guy.] [Is that the guy she liked?] [A mental patient can like someone?] [Being liked by a psycho… just thinking about it gives me the creeps.] I felt a little sad reading those comments. I wasn’t a psycho, I just… had autism. My dad said that as long as I got treated and got better, I could date. I was capable of liking someone. I wasn’t a psycho. Chloe frowned at her phone and said: “Whoever said that, get out of my stream. Calling someone a psycho… you think you’re so normal? Your whole family is ‘normal’.” I thought, maybe Chloe wasn’t so bad after all. She flipped the photo over and saw the two words written on the back. “Liam.” 2 Liam was my first love. Because I refused to go to school, he became my tutor starting my junior year of high school. He was nineteen that year. My dad said he was brilliant. They went to the same high school. He was the valedictorian of our city and a top student at Columbia University. He skipped three grades and secured a spot in grad school by his junior year of college. “How about we have him be your tutor?” I didn’t say anything. Whether I agreed or not, he was going to be my tutor anyway. Before Liam, my dad had hired a lot of tutors for me. But during lessons, I always preferred doing other things, like drawing or woodcarving, lost in my own world. Those tutors eventually all quit. When Liam first started, I ignored him too. I thought he would curse me out behind my back. Give me all sorts of mean nicknames. Those people thought I was stupid, that I couldn’t speak or complain, so that’s what they did. But he just kept explaining the math problems next to my ear, not caring if I was listening or not. Actually, I understood most of it. After the lesson, he pulled out a few worksheets. “These are worksheets based on what we covered today. Do them when you have time. We’ll go over them tomorrow.” I didn’t do them because I wasn’t interested. I scribbled all over his worksheets. He said: “That frog you drew looks pretty good.” That was clearly a tree frog! How could he call it a regular frog! So annoying. “Did I say something wrong?” I ignored him. He lowered his eyes and started explaining the problems. Liam had really long eyelashes. When he blinked, they fluttered like butterfly wings. Liam was always very calm, as if he didn’t care whether I responded to him or not. “Did you understand this problem? If not, you can tell me, and I’ll explain it again.” He tapped the desk with his fingertips. I ignored him. “Since you understand, let’s move on to the next one.” When I didn’t understand, I would turn my head and look at him, and he would explain it again. I thought it was fun, so I purposely looked at him again after he finished explaining. Even after explaining it five times, Liam remained completely unbothered. So weird, didn’t he ever get mad? A month later, I spoke my first sentence to him. “What’s a little monster?” Why did my classmates call me a little monster? Liam froze for a second, then asked me: “Who said that?” I didn’t tell him. He asked again: “Did someone call you that?” I nodded. Then he drew a picture for me. He asked me: “What is this?” “A snake that ate an elephant.” Liam gave a very faint smile and said: “But many people think it’s a hat.” So silly. He said: “People always reject perspectives that differ from their own. They think you’re different from them, so they have a prejudice against you. Prejudice is the real little monster. You are not.” “But I am indeed different from normal people.” “You are just… very special. Everyone is different, it’s no big deal.” No one had ever told me these things before. He asked me: “Do you want to know the story behind this drawing?” I nodded. “Finish this worksheet, and I’ll tell you.” Fine. Liam brought me a book. I felt I was as special as the Little Prince in the book. Liam was even more special. The Little Prince lived on a planet where he could see the sunset forty-four times a day. “Liam, I want to see the sunset forty-four times in one day too.” “If you get into a college in New York, I’ll take you to see it.” I hesitated. I didn’t like going to school, and I didn’t like people out there. But if Liam was there, maybe the outside world wouldn’t be so bad. 3 After the SATs, Liam took me to New York. In the university auditorium, I watched the sunset forty-four times. It was a visual effect he created using code and a 3D model. He said he wouldn’t be tutoring me anymore. “Why?” “High school is over.” “Liam, I like you.” High school was over, but my feelings wouldn’t end. “You’re still young, you haven’t seen the outside world.” I understood. Liam wouldn’t like a little monster either. “Liam, I’m not stupid. If you don’t like me, you can just say so, but don’t invalidate my feelings.” I rarely spoke so seriously. Just because I didn’t like talking didn’t mean I didn’t have my own thoughts. Liam was stunned. I knew a lot of people liked Liam. I could recognize that look in their eyes. But Liam couldn’t understand my look, and he even invalidated my feelings. He didn’t know that I only let him into my world. If he didn’t want to come in, then fine. I stopped talking to Liam. No matter what he said, I wouldn’t listen. As long as I wanted to, I could block out all outside noise and just live in my own world. When I was younger, I couldn’t understand what other people said, and I couldn’t step out of my own world. I didn’t understand why my mom cried when she looked at me. When she left, I didn’t feel anything special either. Later, after a long period of therapy, I finally learned how to step out of my world. Even though there were still many times I didn’t understand complex emotions. But I knew that tears meant sadness. My mom didn’t want me that much either. After meeting Liam, I finally understood what it meant to like someone. Liking someone meant wanting to share your world with them, wanting to be with them, and being happy even if you were doing nothing. When I told Liam my weird thoughts, he would think about them seriously before responding. Even though sometimes it wasn’t the answer I wanted, I liked his answers. He never brushed me off. After Liam rejected me, when he dropped me off at my door, he asked: “Are you really never going to talk to me again?” Since he didn’t like me anyway, why should he care what I thought. But I still nodded honestly. “Can’t we even be friends?” “But I like you, and you don’t like me. I’ll be sad.” “If you like someone else and are with someone else, I’ll be sad too.” “So, I can’t be friends with you.” He wasn’t my friend; he was the person I liked. I would put Liam in a secret corner of my heart, making my feelings for him my own private matter. If he ever wanted to visit my world again, I would invite him. But Liam remained silent. I didn’t know what he was thinking. Just as I was about to leave, Liam grabbed my wrist. He said: “I don’t want you to be sad.” Liam and I started dating. He was still the same as before; he texted and called me every day, told me stories, and took me out. We rode the Ferris wheel and watched the dolphins. When I was scared, he would hold my hand. He took up more and more space in my heart. I really wanted to be with Liam forever. I also wanted to smell the fresh laundry scent on him, hug him, kiss him… I really, really liked Liam. But my dad found out and forbade us from being together. My dad said he was poor and was only dating me to scam our family’s money. I didn’t know how to explain, I just kept repeating: “No, no, no…” Liam wasn’t that kind of person. “He likes me, and I like him too.” My dad said: “What do you know about liking someone? He’s a normal person, how could he possibly like you! He just thinks you’re easy to fool! I never should have hired him to be your tutor!” “No! No! No!” “Liam didn’t scam me!” “I know what it means to like someone!” “You don’t! You’re just being fooled by him!” “I know!” “I just know!” “Ah!” No one cared about my screams. My dad locked me in my room and wouldn’t let me see Liam. On a rainy day, Liam stood outside our villa, refusing to leave. I screamed so loudly in my room that my throat hurt, but my dad wouldn’t open the door. “Wait for Liam.” Just wait a little longer, give him some time, Liam would become very successful in the future. He wasn’t after our family’s money. He truly liked me. I retreated back into my own world. I stopped talking to my dad, stopped eating, and only wanted to see Liam. My dad said: “As long as you behave and get treated, once you’re better, I’ll let you see him.” “Be together.” Not just see him, I wanted to be with him. “Okay, when you’re better, I’ll let you be together.” I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital, taking medication and undergoing therapy every day. Most of the time, I could only look at the outside world through the window. I kept waiting, waiting until I was normal, then I could be with Liam. Even though I didn’t know what “normal” meant. I could finish all the SAT practice tests and get a very high score, but they wouldn’t ask me those questions. Instead, they asked me very difficult questions. “What do you think it means to like someone?” “Do you understand the concept of love or marriage?” I didn’t speak. That day, a new patient arrived at the hospital. The nurse said she hid her history of mental illness, but relapsed after getting married, and now her husband had committed her. The nurse said she harmed herself and others. Mental illness is hereditary; that poor man must really regret liking her and marrying her. I suddenly felt very scared. It turned out that just liking someone wasn’t enough to be together. Even if you are together, you might regret it. Maybe they were right, I didn’t understand anything. I’ve been dead for ten years, and I still don’t understand. Why was I locked in a psychiatric hospital for treatment just because I liked Liam? Why didn’t anyone believe that I truly liked Liam? 4 Chloe suddenly became very excited. She spoke into her phone: “Why don’t we start an event called ‘Finding Liam’! Let’s uncover the story behind this half photo!” She put the photo back into the tin box and then took the box, leaving the hospital. I was anxious, so I had to follow her. “Give it back to me!” “That’s my photo!” But she couldn’t hear me. Then I left the hospital and followed her all the way back to her house. I realized that it wasn’t the hospital that bound me, but that photo. I could only move around the photo. I watched helplessly as Chloe posted my photo online. she collected news, contacted various people, and asked around about Greenview Psychiatric Hospital. “The entire internet is searching for Liam” became a trending topic. I was a little scared, afraid that Liam would find out I was dead. He would be very sad. If Liam died, I would probably never step out of my world again. But I couldn’t stop Chloe. Because I was already dead. At this time. Chloe scrolled past a news article. Tech mogul Liam was returning to the US next week to attend an AI summit. “Liam!” She sat up abruptly from her bed, her face mask falling off. Then, she muttered to herself: “No way, no way.” I stared at the photo in the news article, afraid to blink. It was Liam. It was thirty-year-old Liam. It was my first love, Liam. So, he had been living abroad all this time? Did he forget about me? Why didn’t he ever visit me at the hospital? Was it because I wasn’t cured? Also, why wasn’t thirty-year-old Liam smiling? Was he unhappy? I really wanted to see him. I looked at Chloe, then at her house. Forget it, that would be too hard for her. Two days later, someone commented online saying they knew me. Chloe was ecstatic when she saw the message, dancing around. She really loved making a fuss over nothing; Liam was never like that. When she calmed down, I nervously looked at the phone with her. “The person in the photo was my high school classmate. She stopped coming to school much in her junior year, and after that, there was no news of her. Her name is Aria. She wasn’t quite normal, but she wouldn’t hurt anyone either. She just didn’t pay attention in class, always turned in blank tests, and acted like she couldn’t hear what anyone said. She never talked to anyone. Thinking back, she probably had autism.” Exactly, it was autism, not a mental illness. “Besides not studying, not talking, and ignoring people, she was pretty normal in other ways.” Chloe immediately contacted the person. “Then do you know Liam? What was his relationship with Aria?” “I don’t know him, Aria ignored everyone. But the name Liam sounds familiar, let me think.” I secretly prayed that he wouldn’t remember. But my prayers were useless. “I remember now! He was our senior in my junior year, the valedictorian of our city that year! If you search the news, you should be able to find his photo.” After Chloe searched, she let out a curse word. “Holy shit! Is this the Liam who is one of the top three internet moguls right now? This can’t be a coincidence!” Of course it’s not. Chloe, please, please, whatever you do, don’t ask Liam about the photo. The day Liam returned to the country, Chloe still managed to contact her journalist friend and went to ambush Liam. During those few days beside Chloe, I discovered something: the six degrees of separation theory didn’t apply to her. It seemed there was no one she didn’t know; two degrees were enough. I floated beside Chloe, super nervous. Although I was afraid Liam would find out I was dead, I finally got to see him secretly. And so, I got my wish to see thirty-year-old Liam. Only there was a woman beside him, holding his arm, walking very closely with him. I was a little angry and a little sad. I had never even held Liam’s arm. Would Liam like her the same way he liked me? Thinking about this, my heart felt like it was raining acid, corroding little by little. But I was also a little happy, because Liam seemed to be doing very well. Chloe rushed straight up and held up the half photo, asking: “Liam! Do you still recognize the person in the photo?” Help me! How could she be so reckless! Her question was very abrupt and inappropriate. But Liam stopped in his tracks. His gaze fell on the photo, and then he looked at Chloe coldly. Not only was Chloe scared. I was also scared into taking a step back. Liam’s look, it was as if he wanted to eat someone. “I don’t know her.” 5 My suspended expectations crashed heavily to the ground. Liam said he didn’t know me. Chloe sat in the car, holding the photo, puzzled: “Did I really get it wrong? But Liam’s reaction just now was very strange, it didn’t seem like he didn’t recognize her.” I didn’t understand how Liam could forget me. Was his past affection fake? I didn’t even mind that he liked someone else, but how could he forget me? Now, even if he knew I was dead, he probably wouldn’t be sad anymore. Suddenly, someone knocked on Chloe’s car window. It was the woman who had been standing with Liam. She said: “Hello, my name is Mia. I can pay you for that photo in your hand. Name your price.” “I’m sorry, it’s not for sale at any price. But if you can tell me whether Liam recognizes the person in this photo, I might just give it to you.” “I can tell you, the person in the photo almost ruined Liam.” “What?” “Owning this photo isn’t a good thing.” Mia looked at the photo and said: “Everything related to this woman is a minefield for Liam. You better be careful.” “Is that so?” Chloe gave the photo to Mia. I heard her mutter behind her back: “Things are getting interesting.” “Whether it’s a minefield or what, I have to step on it to find out.” ? I thought Mia would destroy the photo, but I didn’t expect… She actually took the photo to the hotel and gave it to Liam. “You still haven’t let her go, have you?” Liam took the photo, didn’t even glance at it, and threw it straight into the trash can. He said: “I’ve long forgotten who she is.” “Heh.” I felt Mia’s attitude was a bit strange. I sat at Liam’s feet, looking at the photo in the trash can, unable to describe how terrible I felt. That was the only photo Liam and I had together. I took it with a camera when we went to the amusement park together. I still remember he was holding pink cotton candy in his hand, and it was so sweet. He also said he would always like me. He changed his mind. But I didn’t. When I went back that day, I developed two copies of the photo. One was torn up by my dad. It was also because of the photo that he found out about Liam and me dating. I secretly brought the remaining photo into the psychiatric hospital. During the fire, I hid the photo in a tin box that used to hold candy. There was a mouse hole behind the peeling wallpaper, I put the tin box inside and blocked it with my body. By some miracle, half of the photo survived. After becoming a ghost, I drew Liam’s face in my mind every day. Even though the photo was ruined, I never forgot what he looked like. Every word he said to me, I remembered. It was all in my head. But, Liam forgot.

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Five years ago, I got pregnant with Elias Sterling’s child. Using that pregnancy as leverage, I married into the Sterling family and became his wife in name only. For those five years, Elias treated me and our child with nothing but chilling indifference. Three days ago, our son died in a tragic car accident. Meanwhile, Elias was miles away in Aspen with his first love, fulfilling a promise they had made to each other in their youth. On the third day after Leo’s death, Elias Sterling finally showed his face. 1 The funeral home was a revolving door of people coming and going. Each face wore a practiced mask of grief and pity. Only I knew it was all a performance. I stood in the kitchenette, pouring a glass of water. Just as I was about to take a sip, I heard the hushed giggles of two women behind me. “The kid’s been dead for days, and the father is still a no-show?” “Didn’t you hear?” The voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. “Elias is up in the mountains near Aspen with Elena Vance. Those high peaks have zero cell service. The Sterling family has been calling him like crazy, but not a single call went through.” “Maybe he’s just not answering on purpose,” the other woman sneered. “Everyone knows she trapped him with that pregnancy. If it weren’t for her, Elias and Elena would have been married years ago.” The noise, the whispers, the judgment—it all became too much. My world tilted, and I collapsed on the floor of the funeral home. When I finally woke up, someone was pressing medicine into my hand. My head felt like it was being split open with an axe. I buried my face in the pillow, trying to hide from reality. The fabric was damp and smelled of salt—the scent of the tears I had cried for days. Leo was gone, and Elias still hadn’t come home. Suddenly, the heavy sound of footsteps cut through the chatter. A voice murmured, “Elias, you’re finally back.” Elias… Elias Sterling? No. It couldn’t be. He was in Aspen with Elena. Why would he come back now? Even if he wanted to, would Elena let him? She had deliberately chosen Leo’s birthday to take Elias on that flight. That night, Leo had sat at the table with his head bowed. The candles on his cake were melting away, the flickering light reflecting the devastating disappointment on his small, round face. He was a child who loved sweets, yet he didn’t take a single bite. He just asked in that tiny, innocent voice, “Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?” He didn’t cry. He didn’t throw a fit. He was far too mature for his age, knowing full well that his father didn’t love him—and certainly didn’t love his mother. In those five years, Leo’s only wish was for his father to spend one birthday with him. He died before that wish could ever come true. A chair scraped across the floor next to my bed. Someone sat down. I knew that scent. I knew the rhythm of his breathing. After five years of sharing a life, I could sense his presence through a single look or a shift in the air. Once, I had lived for his touch. Now, I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him. “I’m sorry,” Elias said. His voice was flat. I’m sorry. Always the same words. When he was leaving for Aspen with Elena, I had blocked his path. I had grabbed his sleeve, begging him. “Can’t you go tomorrow? Today is Leo’s fifth birthday. He just wants his dad.” I knew I had no right to ask him for anything. I knew he never wanted this marriage. But for Leo, I had to try. Elias had simply brushed my hand away, his face like stone. “I’m sorry, Nora. Elena is waiting for me.” But his son had been waiting too. Only this time, Leo got tired of waiting. He wouldn’t be waiting ever again. “You’re awake?” Elias’s voice held no sorrow, only a sense of clinical urgency. “The guests are gone. You should get up and eat something.” How could he be so calm? It was as if the child who died wasn’t his own. But then again, he never treated Leo like his son. He never treated me like his wife. If it hadn’t been for my mother’s schemes to get me into his bed, I never would have become Mrs. Sterling. Elias hated me. He hated my mother. He once called us “The Farmer and the Snake.” Thinking of Leo, my nose stung again. I pressed my face into the wet pillow, my voice hoarse and broken by sobs. “Did you… did you go see him?” “Yes.” “Good. At least you did that.” I fought to keep my voice steady. “Now, get out.” His voice remained cool, like a breeze. “I didn’t get the calls. The equipment failed in the mountains… really.” Really? Was he emphasizing the truth, or just trying to absolve himself of guilt? It didn’t matter anymore. I didn’t care. “Fine. Just leave.” But Elias didn’t move. He sounded annoyed now. “Nora, the boy was only five. How could you let him go out by himself? I’m his father. I deserve an explanation.” An explanation? I let out a sharp, jagged laugh and sat up. I must have looked horrific. My face was a map of tear stains and pillow creases. My eyes were sunken, my skin deathly pale. I looked like a ghost inhabiting a living body. Elias, meanwhile, was the picture of perfection. Tailored suit, perfectly groomed, his face a mask of icy composure. No sorrow. No tears. He looked like a detective interrogating a suspect. And I, the grieving mother, was the criminal. “What are you laughing at?” he asked, frowning. “I’m laughing at you.” I leaned against the headboard. I felt as fragile as paper, yet my words were blades. “Do you know where Leo was going when he stepped outside?” Elias stared at me, waiting. “He was going to find you.” “He called you dozens of times. You never picked up.” “He told me, ‘Maybe Daddy is lost and can’t find his way home. I have to go help him.’” Elias hesitated. “And you didn’t stop him?” “I lied to him once. I lied to him twice. But he was so worried about you that he slipped out while I was…” I stopped. Why was I explaining this to him? I took a deep breath. “It was my fault.” The silence in the room turned into a storm. Elias’s eyes turned sharp, scrutinizing me. “It was my fault for being foolish enough to love you,” I said, each word deliberate. “It was my fault for ending up in this marriage and bringing Leo into a world where his father hated him. I failed to protect him from the loneliness you gave him.” Elias’s expression went blank. He was speechless. Suddenly, the door burst open. A hand flew through the air and slapped me across the face before either of us could react. “You couldn’t even keep an eye on a five-year-old! Do you even deserve to be a mother?!” It was Elias’s aunt, Catherine. She was a loud, arrogant woman who had always despised me and Leo. She was the one who once pushed Leo, gave him rotten fruit to eat, and whispered in his ear that his father hated him. Her theatrical grief now was nothing but a show for Elias. I sat there, numb, as she slapped me again. My lip bled. Elias, my husband, watched the whole thing with total indifference. He didn’t move a muscle. Throughout the years, whenever Leo and I needed him, he had never once reached out his hand. My hair was being yanked, the pain sharp. Through the insults, I locked eyes with Elias’s cold gaze. Once, years ago, I had tripped and scraped my knee. He had been so panicked, asking me over and over if it hurt. How times change. Now, he could watch me be beaten and feel absolutely nothing. The string inside me finally snapped. I lunged forward, grabbed Catherine’s arm, and slapped her back with everything I had. She froze, her eyes wide with shock, clutching her red cheek. In this house, I owed no one anything except Elias. And Leo owed no one anything at all. I was done being the victim. 2 The day we went to the cemetery, I was still wearing the marks of that fight. My left cheek was swollen, and there were scratches along my jaw. If Elias hadn’t eventually stepped in to pull us apart, it might have been worse. But when he stepped in, the person he pushed away was me. Sitting in the car, a cold front was sweeping through the city. I didn’t feel the chill. I just stared hollowly out the window. Elias sat beside me, answering a call. It was Elena. On the day of his son’s burial, he still found the time to be patient with another woman. His voice had that low, rhythmic cadence he only used for her. “Yes. I’ll be busy for a few more days.” “…You should go back first.” “Her?” I felt Elias’s gaze drift toward me. He handed me the phone. “Elena wants to talk to you.” In the past, I would have thrown the phone out the window. But after losing Leo, what was the point of a scene? Under Elias’s surprised gaze, I took the phone and pressed it to my ear. It still carried the warmth of his skin. I used to crave that warmth. Now, it just made me sick. Elena’s voice was clear, bright, and utterly fake. “Nora, are you okay?” I said nothing. The man beside me was a suffocating presence. I knew that if I said one harsh word to Elena, he would kick me out of the car. He had done it before. One snowy night, I had called Elena in front of him, telling her to stop destroying a family. Elias had flown into a rage, smashed my phone, and ordered me out into the cold. I had walked for two hours in the blizzard. I was bedridden with a fever for a week after. He never checked on me once. It was Leo who sat by my bed, pressing his tiny, warm hands to my forehead, calling “Mommy” until I woke up. I had stayed alive for Leo. I thought he needed me to survive the Sterlings. But now, he was gone, and the very air was being sucked out of my lungs. “Nora,” Elena whispered, her voice too low for Elias to hear. “You must be devastated. You lost your only leverage.” Leo. My son. My “leverage” for marrying into this family. I looked at the gray sky. “Then I’m giving it back to you.” Elena faltered. “What?” “I’m giving him back to you,” I said. “I’m sorry. He was always yours anyway.” Elias snatched the phone back and ended the call. His face was twisted with sudden violence. “What kind of nonsense are you feeding her now?” What does a mother who lost her child say to her husband’s mistress? There were no warnings left. No curses. Only a clean break. I was letting go. Let the “star-crossed lovers” have their happy ending. I had no strength left to fight for this marriage. Honestly, I didn’t even have the strength left to live. Under a light, drizzling rain, we buried Leo. The photo on the headstone was from when he was three. We had planned to take a family portrait that day. Leo and I had arrived early, waiting from dawn until dusk. All around us were happy families, laughing and posing for the camera. In the middle of that joy, Leo and I were a tragic joke. I could handle the coldness, but Leo… The rain washed over the cold marble. The boy in the photo wasn’t smiling. He had been trying so hard to hide his disappointment that day because he didn’t want me to be sad. Someone held an umbrella over me. I bowed my head, praying to Leo’s soul. I prayed that in his next life, he would have parents who loved him, not a life of cold shoulders and empty hallways. A shadow moved across the grass. It was Elias. I opened my heavy eyes. He was wearing a long black overcoat. He bent down and placed something at the base of the headstone. It was a race car Lego set. My heart turned to ice. “What is that?” I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm. Elias looked back at the grave. “A birthday gift for Leo. He asked me for it a while ago. I didn’t have time before…” “He asked you for it?” “We had a deal.” Looking at the utter desolation on my face, Elias reached out and grabbed my wrist. “What’s wrong?” My legs gave out. A sharp, searing pain twisted in my gut. I collapsed to my knees in front of Leo’s grave. My son… on the last birthday of his life, I had given him a fake gift. I told him it was from his father. He had smiled, even though he knew I was lying. He knew his father didn’t love him. He knew Elias hadn’t even remembered his birthday. And now, the gift was here. But it was too late. It was so, so much too late. 3 The atmosphere at the Sterling estate was heavy. Elias’s father, Thomas Sterling, was waiting for us. He gripped his mahogany cane, his brow furrowed. “Nora, go upstairs,” he said gently. I knew what was coming. Thomas was going to take his anger out on Elias. Thomas was the only person in this family who liked me. He was the one who had insisted I marry Elias, all because my father had saved his life years ago. When my father died, leaving us with nothing, the Sterlings took us in. They gave my mother a job as a housekeeper and sent me to the best schools alongside Elias. Elias had been told to treat me like a sister. He did, at first. Until I was foolish enough to fall in love with him. Thomas had found out that Elias missed the funeral. He had sent the others away so he could deliver “family discipline.” The housekeeper ran to me, her voice shrill and desperate. “Nora, please! Go talk to the Master! He’ll listen to you! Elias is getting beaten!” Why should I go? I used to love Elias with everything I had. If he were hurt, I would have been in more pain than him. But that Nora died with Leo. All that was left was guilt and a hollow chest. I took off my jewelry. I stripped off the expensive clothes. I packed a single suitcase with nothing but Leo’s things. Nothing in this room belonged to me. I placed my earrings on the vanity. After making sure I wasn’t taking anything that wasn’t mine, I walked downstairs. Elias was already on his knees, his hands braced on the floor, teeth grit in pain. He looked up, his bloodshot eyes meeting mine, but I didn’t spare him a second glance. Thomas dropped the cane and walked toward me. He was the man I respected most. He had provided for me and my mother, given us a home, and supported me even when the rest of the family sneered. “…Thomas.” I called him by his name, not “Dad.” I remembered the day I married into the family. Thomas had taken my hand and placed it on Elias’s. “Nora is a good girl,” he had told his son. “Treat her right.” It was just like the day my mother and I first arrived at the Sterling mansion. “Nora is your sister now,” Thomas had said to a young Elias. “Take care of her.” And back then, Elias had smiled at me. He had taken me to the cafeteria, waited for me after school, and made me watch him play basketball. There were hundreds of girls screaming for him on the sidelines, but he always insisted I be there. He was the golden boy. I was the shy, plain girl in a ponytail and a hand-me-down uniform. I was too timid to even look him in the eye. Everyone in school knew Elias only hung out with me because his father owed mine a life. He didn’t mind my silence or my awkwardness. He took me everywhere. Until Elena Vance appeared. Suddenly, the girl on the sidelines was Elena. The person eating lunch with him was Elena. I don’t remember exactly how she pushed me out of his life. I just remember the sudden coldness. I remember overhearing a classmate in the restroom: “Nora is so clueless. Elias is dating Elena now, and she’s still following him around like a lost puppy.” A lost puppy. I had backed away after that. I made excuses to stop eating with him. I avoided him at home. But one day, he found me in the cafeteria with another boy. He stood over our table, looking down at me with that aristocratic disdain. “So, you stopped eating with me because you found a boyfriend?” I didn’t understand. I just didn’t want to be the third wheel. But later, through a series of accidents and my mother’s desperation, I broke Elias and Elena apart. It was time to give Elena her place back. Elias stood up from the floor. The blows hadn’t seemed to bother him. He stared at me as I spoke to Thomas. “Thomas, I’ve left everything in the bedroom. I’m leaving today.” “Nora…” Thomas tried to stop me, just as he had many times over the years. But he knew that without Leo, there was nothing left to keep me in this prison my mother had built for me. Elias looked like an outsider, confused by the conversation. “Leaving? Where are you going?” Thomas snapped, “Shut your damn mouth!” Elias frowned. “Nora is my wife. I have a right to know where she’s going.” So now he remembered I was his wife? Too bad I was never acknowledged until I decided to leave. Thomas was clutching his chest, his face pale. I hurried to support him. “Thomas, please, don’t get worked up.” “Nora… this is my fault,” Thomas wheezed. “I didn’t raise him right. I let you and Leo suffer. If your mother knew…” “It’s okay, Thomas. Don’t worry about it anymore.” I walked past Elias. He grabbed my wrist. “Tell me the truth. Where are you going? Why are you doing this?” “The heart dies before the body, Elias,” I said. “You wouldn’t understand.” I shook off his hand and walked out. Three days after leaving the Sterling house, I collapsed in my small rental. It wasn’t a surprise. Stomach cancer. I had been diagnosed two months ago. Back then, Leo was still alive, and I was fighting to stay for him. I had even tried to tell Elias the day I got the diagnosis. All I got was a cold glare. He hated me so much that I had stopped trying to reach him. I had planned to get treated and then take Leo away. But now, I was going to find Leo instead. The irony of life is that at the very end, the person I saw when I opened my eyes was Arthur Miller. Arthur had been in my class in high school. He was a poor kid with brilliant grades, always buried in his books. He was the opposite of the wealthy, arrogant Elias. Back then, Elias had called him a “pretentious loser” and told me to stay away from him. I had defended Arthur, and Elias had accused me of taking sides against him. I knew Arthur wanted to be a doctor. I knew he would succeed. But I never expected to be his first patient after his residency abroad. He looked imposing in his white coat. It made me feel even more pathetic. He looked at me with that same look of disapproval he had in high school. “Nora, you’re failing so badly, how can you sleep so soundly?” Back then, I would have teased him. “Elias is taking me to study abroad. He said I don’t need to work that hard.” Whenever I said that, Arthur’s expression would turn complex. Now, I finally understood what he was thinking. Relying on a man who doesn’t love you is a one-way ticket to a tragedy. I was the living proof. Still, Dr. Miller had saved my life. I lifted my hand, heavy with IV tubes, and offered a weak smile. “Hi.” Arthur didn’t seem interested in chatting. He sent a nurse to look after me instead. I was brought in by a neighbor. The bills weren’t paid. When the nurse asked for a family contact, I just smiled. “No parents. No family.” The nurse gave me a look of pure pity. “Dr. Miller wants to take you for some scans and a full workup.” I struggled into my old coat. When I left the Sterlings, I took nothing. I was afraid Elias would sue me to get it back. I never wanted to see him again. The coat was years old. It didn’t keep out the cold, and the sleeves were pilling. I looked a mess. I stood up shakily. “No need. I’m just tired. I’m fine.” In the Sterling house, no one respected me except Thomas. I was the parasite who crawled into Elias’s bed to become a trophy wife. I had spent years hardening my heart and my body. The nurse was skeptical. My face was probably the same color as the patients in the hospice wing. Well, I was a terminal cancer patient. It was just a secret. When Leo was alive, I spent my time secretly visiting hospitals, looking for a cure while doubled over in pain, vomiting until there was nothing left. I went to the billing window and paid with what little money I had. I clutched my stomach, stumbling out of the line. My vision was blurred, but I thought I saw Elias. He was wearing the overcoat I had bought him, his arm wrapped around another woman. In that moment, I wished my consciousness would just fade. Then I wouldn’t have to see the scarf around Elena Vance’s neck—the one I had hand-knitted for Elias. When I gave it to him, I had asked where it was dozens of times. He had always said he lost it. He could have thrown it away. But instead, he used it to humiliate me. I wasn’t even surprised. I felt a strange sense of peace. That was the moment Elias Sterling finally used up the last bit of love and guilt I had for him. Along with Leo’s death, it was all buried. The dream was over. I was a childless divorcee with nothing. He had his new life and his heart’s desire. Standing in the crowded hospital, I remembered all the times I bought him ties, only for Elena to use them as rags. I remembered waiting up on his mother’s death anniversary, only to see Elena post a photo of him with the caption: “You always make my heart ache.” My mother had taught me to knit. It was my first project. I had been so nervous, hoping for a single smile. He had taken it and said, “Don’t waste your time on this again.” He was trying to tell me that my efforts were futile. But I just wanted to be a good wife. Back then, Leo had tugged on my sleeve to comfort me. “Don’t be sad, Mommy. Daddy is just acting tough.” Silly boy. When a man doesn’t love you, he isn’t acting. 5 Two weeks after Leo died. I was surviving on painkillers. The cancer was spreading, and the pain was becoming a physical weight I couldn’t carry. Every time I got sick, I felt like a hollow shell. Even a glass of water was painful to swallow. I took the pills and hugged Leo’s favorite teddy bear. In the haze of the drugs, I wondered if Leo’s death had been this painful. He didn’t have painkillers. He must have been so scared. It was my fault. I didn’t protect him. My Leo… Before I slipped into unconsciousness, I heard a steady knocking at the door. If it weren’t for the pain, I would have thought it was the grim reaper. It was Arthur Miller. He wasn’t the type to be persistent. Back in high school, I’d beg him to explain a math problem and he’d give me the cold shoulder. What changed? “Nora, you’re in bad shape. You need to be in a hospital.” He was a doctor. A good one. He could see the truth written on my face. Arthur hadn’t changed much. He was still tall, still carried that air of intellectual arrogance. Like Elias said, he was “too proud.” And proud people don’t like to be insulted. I didn’t want to offend him before I died. “Dr. Miller, are you out of patients?” I tried to sound as petty as possible. “How much of a commission do you get for these extra tests?” Arthur’s eye twitched. “Nora…” “Here, take some money and leave me alone.” I went inside and threw some cash at him. Arthur left. Good. No one should have to put up with a difficult patient. Dying alone was the best ending for me. I swallowed my pills and pulled the curtains. But as I looked down, I saw two figures. Arthur Miller and Elias Sterling. Why was he here? Shouldn’t he be with Elena? They were arguing, almost coming to blows. I ignored the pain and rushed downstairs, blocking the space between them. “What the hell are you doing here?” I rasped. Elias looked the same as always. Standing in the night wind, his coat fluttering, the moonlight sharp on his features. He looked at Arthur with the same venom he had in high school whenever Arthur helped me with my books. “Nora, don’t you have hands? Why do you need him to help you?” he used to say. He wouldn’t let other men help me, yet he gave all his kindness to Elena. I used to love him. I used to push people away for him. Not anymore. I stepped in front of Arthur and pulled on his sleeve, urging him to go. He locked eyes with Elias, the tension thick enough to burn. He only left because I asked him to. Elias watched him go, his face a storm. “Tired of the good life? You ran here to be with your little pet?” The good life? Being neglected by a husband and loathed by a family? That was Elias’s definition of a “good life.” He hated me for ruining his future with Elena. Well, I was dying now. He should be happy. “I’m done with that life. Give it to Elena. I hope you both live long, happy lives with lots of children.” I said it calmly. No screaming. No breakdown. It was just like the day I left the Sterlings. Like I was deciding what to have for dinner. Elias looked stunned. He probably thought my request for divorce was just a reaction to Leo’s death—a tantrum I’d eventually get over. “Nora, have you really thought this through?” “My leaving was your dream for years, wasn’t it?” Silence. Elias nodded, a mocking smile on his face. “Fine. It’s your choice. Don’t come crawling back when you regret it.” I watched him walk away. Regret? I didn’t even have a future to regret. That night, I saw Elena’s Instagram post: “Dreams do come true.” The photo was of a massive diamond ring on her finger. 6 The cancer was moving fast. I didn’t know how much time I had left, but I found myself welcoming the end. I’d see Leo soon. It had been over two weeks since I’d seen him. I missed him. But it had been days since I thought of Elias. I used to spend my life around him. Packing his bags, managing the house, dealing with the relatives. I was his nurse when he was sick and his maid when he was drunk. And he spent his life with Elena. He wouldn’t even take my calls when he was away. The only times he answered were when Elena picked up the phone. “Elias is sleeping,” she’d purr. “No wonder he hates you. You’re such a nuisance.” “Take care of him,” I’d say. “I don’t need you to tell me that. Do you really think you’re his wife? You’re just a parasite who trapped him.” I had no comeback for that. Life was easier now. I went to the hospital to get more meds. I just wanted to make it to Christmas. Leo loved Christmas. If I could see him then, he’d be so happy. I waddled through the crowds. I must have looked like a walking corpse, wrapped in layers of scarves to hide my skeletal frame. As I left with my prescription, Arthur caught up to me. I looked back, and his eyes were glued to my face. I pulled my scarf tighter. Extreme weight loss is hard to hide. “Nora…” Arthur started to speak, then just sighed. “Where are you going?” “The station.” “I’ll drive you.” Suddenly, my eyes burned. I tried to say no, but Arthur was already walking toward his car. The street was full of people. I wasn’t the only one suffering. “Did Elias say anything after I left?” Arthur asked as we drove. “He used to get so worked up about us.” “No. We’re divorced.” “I was shocked when I heard you two got married. He came to see me before I left for my residency. He threatened me… told me to stay away from you.” Arthur let out a dry laugh. “Elias is a contradiction. He wouldn’t let me love you, but he only called you a sister.” I froze. “When did he say that?” “After Elena showed up.” I remembered. Before Elena, Elias would steal my soda, drink from my cup, and kiss my cheek. He’d laugh and say, “The ice is bad for you. This is mine now.” But that was a lifetime ago. People saw the sparks between us. Elias didn’t deny it. One day, under the golden light of the setting sun, I followed him. “Why aren’t you explaining things?” I asked. “Explain what?” He had been about to say something, his eyes soft, when the driver arrived to take us home. Elias went into his father’s study and stayed there for a long time. After that, he turned cold. He stopped taking me to lunch. He told me to stop bothering him. I tried everything to win him back, but nothing worked. Then Elena appeared. He stopped sharing my drinks. He stopped kissing me. When a friend asked if we were together, he sneered. “Nora is just a sister. If it weren’t for her dad, she wouldn’t even be that.” He told me I was only in the house because of my father. He told me to know my place. My mother told me the same. She told me to be careful, to remember we were just guests. I had buried my love for him. Then, right as those feelings were dying, my mother pushed me into his bed. The rest of my life was spent in a cycle of regret. I looked at Arthur. “There is nothing between me and Elias Sterling.” Elias heard about it within hours. He was waiting by his car in the dark, smoking. The smoke curled around his expensive suit, making him look like a phantom. “Nothing between us? Nora, you bore my son.” He still remembered he had a son. Arthur must have told him. I didn’t care to investigate. I just smiled. “The son is dead. So the connection is dead, too.” Elias choked on his smoke. He dropped the cigarette right before it burned his fingers. “Nora… we can have another child.” No. There was only one Leo. “I’m sure you will,” I said. “You and Elena will have plenty.” I just wanted a quiet corner to spend my last days. “What about you?” Elias asked, his voice dripping with jealousy. “You and Arthur Miller will have children?” I was too tired to argue. I just wanted to be rid of him. If he wanted to believe I was with Arthur, let him. “Believe what you want.” I turned to go, but Elias grabbed my arm. “Did you forget? You’re still my wife.” “Not for long.” The wind was harsh, bringing the taste of copper to my mouth. Elias searched my face for a lie. “Nora, this game is getting old. You can’t survive without me.” A game? No one plays games with their own life. To force me back, Elias stalled the divorce settlement. He froze the accounts. He even took back the apartment I was living in. He left me homeless while he planned his wedding. Nobody gets remarried a month after their son dies. But Elias did. The news of his wedding to Elena was everywhere. I heard about Thomas’s rage and the family gossip. I didn’t care. I wasn’t part of the story anymore. Elena called me while I was trying to choke down my meds. “Nora, we’re getting married at the end of the month.” “Congratulations,” I said, and hung up. I went to the train station. Elias called me. “Nora, I’ll give you one more chance. Come home.” His voice sounded like a dream. Maybe he was finally feeling guilty. But where was that guilt when Leo was alive? “Elias… I’m never coming back. Ever.” I looked at the teddy bear in my hand. “I apologized for my mother. I apologized for everything. I’m sorry I stayed in the way of you and Elena for so long.” I hung up.

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My son was ruined by his grandmother. By sixteen, he refused to study and spent every waking moment hooked on League of Legends. I finally forced the issue with my husband and asked my son who he’d live with if we divorced. “Dad, obviously,” he sneered, without looking up from his screen. “Why would I live with you? You nag me 24/7 about nothing. You’re exhausting.” He actually smiled, then added, “As soon as you’re gone, Auntie Melissa can move in. She’s a thousand times better than you, a million times better. Just divorce already, don’t chicken out!” I nodded, feeling the last bit of attachment break. “Fine. I hope you don’t regret it.” 1 Back when Leo was just starting elementary school, I was swamped starting my own consulting firm. My mother-in-law, Martha, took him back to her quiet town to help us out. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I decided to step back, become a full-time stay-at-home mom, and bring Martha and Leo to live with us. I never imagined those few years would completely warp Leo’s character. His grandma spoiled him rotten, and now, at sixteen, he had zero self-discipline and felt entitled to everything. This wasn’t the first time my son had compared me to this “Auntie Melissa.” The first time I heard him say that, it felt like my heart was being twisted in my chest. I thought all those years of sacrifice, of stepping back from my career, were wasted. The woman he loved so much was Melissa Jenkins. She was my husband Mark’s college sweetheart. Mark had been hopelessly in love with her back in the day, but she had used him as a backup plan. She was obsessed with a “golden boy” from their class and actually moved to London just to chase him. Years later, she returned, penniless, with her looks fading, and suddenly realized my husband was the perfect “safety net.” She’d been working her way into our lives ever since. For the past few months, she’d been at our house every single day, rain or shine. She bought Leo a new smartphone, an iPad, a gaming console. She knew I limited Leo’s sweets, so she always had chocolate and premium candy bar stuffed in her purse for him. The day we finalized the divorce, Mark and I walked out of the courthouse with the papers. He’s usually pretty spineless, but he looked at me and asked, “We can still be friends, right? Want to come back to the house for a drink?” I gave him a long, hard look. “Sure. Why not?” I wanted to see the reality he had created. As soon as I opened the door, I heard laughter. My son was sitting close to Melissa on the couch, two massive KFC buckets between them. A sixteen-year-old in a growth spurt, and he’s eating this for lunch? I felt my temple throb. But I forced a casual smile, walked over, grabbed a handful of fries from their bucket, and ate them deliberately. Leo looked at me, a confused glint in his eye, which he quickly replaced with defiance. “Aren’t you going to yell at me? I’m eating ‘junk food,’ remember?” He emphasized the words, smugly taking a massive bite of his burger while watching for my reaction. I didn’t even bother to roll my eyes. “Nope. When you were my son, I cared about your health. I limited the junk because I know you’re self-conscious about your height and you have no self-control. But now you’re her problem.” I smiled sweetly. “Not my circus, not my monkey.” He was stunned. He hadn’t expected that. For a second, a flicker of hurt crossed his face, but he quickly covered it with a cold smirk and turned back to Melissa, laughing loudly at something she said, pretending I was a stranger. I didn’t care. From the moment he said, “Auntie Melissa is a million times better than you, why haven’t you divorced yet?” to the moment he stood there while Mark screamed at me, “Your low-class family raised a useless daughter, you don’t deserve this house!” I was done. As of today, he wasn’t my son. When he saw I wasn’t engaging, his booming laughter gradually faded to a whisper. Melissa shot me a cool glance, then addressed me directly. “Since you’re here… I also have a son, Tyler. He’s fifteen. I’m bringing him over tomorrow to live here and go to school with Leo. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” She would never have dared to speak to me like that before. I deliberately took my time wiping the grease off my fingers, smiling. “Are you asking me? You’re the lady of the house now. You make the rules.” Her eyes widened in surprise, and then her face immediately filled with the smug satisfaction of a woman who had won. “Then it’s settled. Leo, you’re the older brother, you have to take good care of Tyler, okay?” My son cheered. “Awesome! Finally, someone to play CoD with!” I sneered internally. You idiot. Once her biological son arrives, your easy life is over. How did I raise such a fool? I must not have taken enough prenatal vitamins. 2 When our family’s finances first turned around years ago, I had bought the adjacent apartment. The plan was to bring my parents over when they got older, so they could live right next door and I could take care of them. That wasn’t happening now. During the divorce settlement, I hadn’t pushed for much, but I fought for that adjacent unit. It was mine. After the courthouse and the KFC “lunch,” I went back to my new apartment. As I was about to close the door, Mark caught it, looking hesitant. “Melissa and I… we haven’t actually, you know, ‘done it’ yet. I didn’t cheat on you during the marriage. If you hadn’t been so stubborn about the divorce—” “You didn’t cheat? I saw you kissing her in your office, and she looked like she was trying to suck the soul out of your body. What was that? A commercial shoot?” I sneered, slamming the door in his face. If he truly respected me, or this marriage, he would have rejected her the moment she started trying to worm her way in. But Mark enjoyed it. He loved having his college “goddess” worshiping him. He let her humiliate me and turned our home into a war zone. So I gave him the divorce. Now he could enjoy her without the guilt. What was the problem? I didn’t see a problem. I locked the door, shutting out those toxic people. The world was finally quiet. I pulled out my phone and listed the apartment on Zillow. My parents had only stayed here a few times, so it was basically new. Those few times were enough. My son was constantly screaming at my parents, actually calling them “old geezers” to their faces. My parents, bless them, didn’t have the heart to get angry at a child, but I refused to let them be treated that way. I was the one who stopped them from moving in. I had actually slapped the little brat for it back then, but Melissa had held me back, saying he was just a child, and I shouldn’t take it seriously. I should have slapped her too. The memory made my blood boil. I suddenly remembered that my son’s debit card was still linked to my bank account. I was transferring $500 a month to him… Not anymore. My thumb swiped across the screen. Unlinked. Cancelled. Instant relief. When I woke up the next morning, I saw an offer on Zillow. Some investor wanted to buy the place, cash, and close fast. I got dressed up before leaving. In the past, I was so busy serving my husband and son that I didn’t even have time to look in the mirror. Now, I had nothing but time. I sat at my vanity, did a full skincare routine, applied light makeup, and spent time on my hair and picking a dress. I stared at myself for a long time. My features were good. With some concealer and foundation, the exhaustion was gone, and I looked elegant, nothing like the tired, disheveled housewife I had become. My figure still needed work, though. I picked up my phone and booked a $1,000 personal training package. Now that I wasn’t spending money on that little brat, I had plenty of disposable income for myself. I hummed as I walked downstairs, and bumped into Melissa and her biological son, Tyler, on the sidewalk. One look and you knew they were related. Melissa raised him exactly the same way Martha raised Leo—one glance and you wanted to slap him. Tyler was kicking and screaming on the pavement, refusing to let go of a bike rack. Melissa was trying to cajole him. “Forget that bike! Martha and I have money now, I’ll buy you a brand new, custom-ordered mountain bike, the latest model!” She finally convinced him. I watched from the shadows as Tyler went back a minute later and used a key to scratch the bike that had caused the tantrum. He absolutely ruined the paint job. By the way, that bike belonged to my little brat. He had worked odd jobs for me for six months just to save up for it, and he loved it. No matter. Melissa has money now. She’ll buy him a new one. It was her son who broke it, after all. I went to meet the buyer and handle the closing. When I got back, the investor had already sent a crew to change the locks, but they called me to the adjacent unit. My new front door had been hacked and keyed. I assumed it was Tyler, but when the building manager pulled the surveillance footage, I saw my son’s face, filled with rage, gouging my door with a metal tool. My numb, distant heart felt another sharp twist. 3 I didn’t need to ask to know what happened. My son discovered his bike was ruined. Melissa probably mentioned, casually, that she had seen me downstairs early that morning… This wasn’t her first time using that tactic. I didn’t go confront them. I called the cops and gave them the video footage. When the police arrived to take my son in for vandalism, Martha and Melissa both rushed over to shield him. Martha glared at me, screaming, “Is this what a mother does? You’re sending your own son to the police station?” I crossed my arms. “Why not? What, should I wait until he moves from vandalism to assault? Or arson?” My son was staring at me coldly. “You’re a real piece of work. Just ruthless. I hope you don’t regret it.” Then he turned to the cop, shouting furiously, “I want to file a counter-complaint! She’s mad my dad dumped her for a younger model, so she ruined my bike this morning!” My jaw almost dropped. Melissa’s eyes were darting around, looking nervous. I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity. I calmly addressed the cop. “Here’s the deal. If I’m the one who ruined his bike, I’ll pay him ten times what it’s worth. But if I didn’t, he has to pay me ten times what it costs to replace my door.” The little brat froze. He instinctively looked at Melissa. I smiled sweetly at her, waiting. Melissa panicked. “Let’s not do that. We’re all family here. Don’t say things you don’t mean. Mark will just pay for the door.” I smirked coldly. Before I could speak, the little brat snapped, “Melissa, stop! If you give an inch, she takes a mile! Don’t protect her!” He actually called her Melissa. I wasn’t surprised. He’d already accepted the enemy. Melissa, however, looked annoyed when he used her name, not happy. Her expression went dark. The fool didn’t notice; he was too busy glaring at me. Martha was starting to get suspicious, looking back and forth between me and Melissa. Melissa bit her lip, then adopted a meek tone. “Since there aren’t any other cameras down there, it’s just your word against ours. There’s no way to prove anything.” I smiled sweetly. “All you need to do is agree to the ten times compensation. If I can’t prove it, I lose.” Melissa’s pupils constricted. She glanced at me, and I deliberately shifted my gaze away as if I were nervous. She took the bait. A smug smile touched her lips. “Fine. But Leo is furious, and as his mother figure, I don’t want him to feel cheated.” I smiled internally, ignoring her pathetic attempt to hurt me by calling herself his “mother figure.” “So, it’s a deal?” I casually pulled out my phone and tapped on the video I had already prepared. You should have seen Melissa’s face. It was priceless. The video on my phone clearly showed Tyler, Melissa’s biological son, smirking as he scratched Leo’s bike, and then using a key on my door while muttering, “This is all going to be mine eventually anyway, loser.” My son watched the video, stunned, his mouth hanging open. Then he furiously slammed his bag onto the ground and screamed a profanity at Tyler. The cop had to interject. “Hey! Cut that out! What’s with the language? You parents need to be watching what your kids are doing.” Martha was about to open her mouth to blame me—I could see it. I wasn’t letting her get away with it again. She wasn’t my family anymore. I addressed the cop directly. “I apologize, officer. The boy is raised without any discipline. I’ve tried to correct him, but my mother-in-law here fought me every step of the way, insisted on raising him herself, and brought him back a complete brat. When I finally brought him back to try and fix him, you can see the result. My home was turned into a battlefield and I was forced into a divorce.” I affected a weary, sad sigh. “I’m sorry you have to see this family drama.” The cop gave me a sympathetic look. Martha looked like a fish on land, her eyes wide, but she couldn’t say a single word. “The compensation goes to my account. You know the number. Don’t make me call your father.” I smiled coldly at my son, whose face was purple with rage. I ignored the rest of them and casually walked away. I didn’t care what the neighbors watching the drama were thinking. 4 My week was fantastic. I received the ten-times compensation, paid out of the brat’s savings and allowance, and the apartment closing went smoothly. When I told my parents I was selling, they hesitated. “What about Leo? If you aren’t there to watch him, won’t his stepmother treat him badly?” I smiled. “What happens to him isn’t my concern anymore.” I wasn’t being dramatic. The hurt ran too deep. I had dedicated my life to him, and for what? To be abused? Melissa only spent a year grooming him, and she had already eclipsed the decade of devotion I’d given him. It was time to move on. As I was happily packing up, Martha suddenly showed up with the little brat in tow. “I heard you sold the other apartment. You must have over a million dollars in cash now. Leo needs to get married one day. I found a great house in a gated community, I think you should buy it for him as a wedding gift.” My eyes widened in genuine disbelief. “Are you serious? Are you telling me that a mother is legally obligated to buy a house for a useless, ungrateful son who doesn’t even want to study? I don’t have that obligation. Do you want to see the court’s decision? The judge ruled I only have to pay $500 a month in child support until he’s eighteen.” My son looked at me in disbelief, which immediately turned to disgust. “I am not your son from this day on. If you won’t buy me a house, don’t ever expect me to support you when you’re old!” I chuckled. “I haven’t considered you my son for a while now, you call Melissa ‘Mom’ anyway, don’t you? Ask Melissa to buy you a house. And I never expected you to support me. You treat your grandparents like dirt, and they adore you. I can already see what my old age would look like with you in charge. Buy you a house? I’d rather buy a dog and buy it a golden doghouse.” My son was left speechless, his face bright red. He turned to his grandmother and screamed, “Why did you bring me here to talk to this bitch? She isn’t my mom, I don’t have a mom like her!” He actually called me that. The vein in my temple throbbed. Melissa appeared from around the corner, a smile on her face. “Leo is still a child, don’t take it personally.” Martha screamed at me, “You’re the mother! You’re actually holding a grudge against your own child? How can you show your face?” I smiled sweetly. “He’s calling me a bitch now. Eventually, he’ll start calling you one too. When that happens, remember, don’t take it personally.” I slammed the door. I put my hands over my eyes, taking a deep breath. It still hurt. It’s impossible to remain indifferent when someone you once loved more than life itself abuses you like that. But I wasn’t going to take it anymore. I knew Melissa was the one filling his head with this nonsense. Martha wasn’t smart enough to come up with the “wedding gift” plan on her own. They wanted a wedding gift? Fine. I’ll give them what they want. I called Mark. “Your mom just came by, demanding I buy Leo a wedding gift in a gated community. What’s your take?” Mark was confused. “Leo is sixteen. Isn’t that a little early?” I smirked. “Mark, you know Melissa brought her own son, Tyler. Tyler is also going to grow up and need a house. When the time comes, who gets your money? Tyler isn’t your son. Leo is your only heir.” I knew Mark well. He was obsessed with his legacy. He hesitated, then said, “Maybe I should buy something in Leo’s name, just in case?” “That’s your decision. Oh, and Mark, I’d suggest you keep this from Melissa. You know how she gets.” … I finished packing and moved into a new apartment across town, then immediately started looking for a job. I didn’t have much experience, but I was motivated. I eventually landed an executive assistant position. I hadn’t worked in years, and I was determined to succeed. I put in the hours, got along with my colleagues, and my boss, the CEO, seemed to like me. The following weekend, I was working overtime. My boss, Mr. Harris, a senior executive in his fifties, felt bad, and invited me to his house for lunch. When I arrived at his upscale community, I ran into Melissa and my son walking out of Mr. Harris’s neighbor’s house. “Melissa, you’re the best! You convinced Dad to buy me such an amazing place.” The little brat was hugging Melissa, beaming, and actually kissed her cheek. It was a scene of perfect mother-son affection. I was stunned. Mark had bought Leo the house, but Melissa had managed to take all the credit? I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely happy or just acting. Then my son saw me. His face immediately darkened. He smirked smugly. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t give me money for a house? My mom bought me one.” I smiled sweetly. “That’s wonderful. You should make sure you’re extra good to her.” He sneered. “Obviously. But what about you? You have no kids, nobody is going to care about you when you’re old. You’re going to die alone in your house.” I shrugged. “I’m okay with that. I was actually thinking of getting a dog. I’ll let the dog take care of me.” My son’s face shifted. He probably felt I was implying something, but he couldn’t think of a comeback. He just glared at me darkly. I ignored him and walked into Mr. Harris’s house. As I walked in the door, I glanced back and saw Melissa and my son staring at me with a strange, ominous look. The lunch with Mr. Harris and his wife was lovely. Mrs. Harris actually said, “You haven’t worked in years? You have fantastic business acumen. What a waste to have been a stay-at-home mom.” I smiled sweetly. “Well, isn’t that why they say behind every successful man is a supportive woman? But I’m glad to have a chance to succeed on my own.” They both laughed. I was thinking about the house Melissa and my son were in. I was curious. It looked like Melissa was genuinely excited, not just pretending. If it were an act, she was a world-class actress. Was there something else going on I didn’t know about? 5 I remembered they were coming from the house next to Harris’s, so I casually asked Mrs. Harris, “I noticed the adjacent house seems to be occupied. Do you know the neighbors?” Mrs. Harris said, “The investors who owned it sold it just a few days ago. We haven’t met them yet.” What a coincidence. My heart skipped a beat. I showed her a picture of Melissa. “Was it this woman who bought it?” “Yes, that’s her.” “Did she buy it alone?” “No, she had a boy with her.” I showed her a picture of my son. “This boy?” Mrs. Harris shook her head. “No, the boy was younger and… not as well-behaved. The boy down there was actually quite handsome.” I showed her Tyler’s photo. Mrs. Harris’s face immediately darkened. “Yes, that’s him. So rude. He came over here asking for snacks and just made a mess, didn’t even say thank you.” He left a memorable impression. I was confused. Was the house in Melissa’s name? Mark bought it for Leo, but Melissa had gone with Tyler to finalize everything? My son was being played, and he was thanking her for it. Just then, my phone rang. It was Martha, my ex-mother-in-law. Melissa and Mark were hosting an engagement party, and they wanted me to come. She probably expected me to refuse, so I immediately agreed. “Sure. I’ll be there. Can I sit at the family table? I am family, after all.” Martha was speechless. “If you have the balls to show up, I’ll find a seat for you.” Oh, I had the balls. I had a wonderful gift for them. … The day of the engagement party, I woke up early and spent time on myself. I looked great. When I arrived, many guests didn’t even recognize me. I realized how much I had changed. housewife, housewife… when you’re dedicated to serving your husband and son and you’re not taking care of yourself, what else are you going to be? Now that I wasn’t serving anyone, I was an elegant, successful woman. I felt pretty good about myself. Melissa and Mark began their rounds, greeting guests. Mark looked revitalized, and my son was right beside them, looking closer to Melissa than to his own grandmother. Someone commented, “Melissa is a fantastic stepmother. I used to think the ‘evil stepmother’ cliché was true, but she proves it wrong.” The person realized I was sitting right there and blushed. I smiled. “It’s fine. If she’s treating my son well, I’m thrilled.” They continued chatting with me. Then Martha walked over, a fake smile on her face. “Thrilled? You are the mother. How can you have the audacity to be so detached from your own child?” The happy family scene Martha was trying to project immediately shattered. Martha was looking for a fight; she’d probably spent all night coming up with insults. “Hmph, you actually have the nerve to show your face here. You refused to buy your own son a wedding gift, claiming you didn’t have to. But Melissa? The moment she heard, she bought him one immediately.” I looked shocked. “She bought it with her own money? Mark, I didn’t think you’d do that. You make so much money, and you let your new wife buy a house for your son?” Martha was immediately speechless. Melissa looked panicked, not smug. She waved her hand. “Let’s not talk about that on such a happy day. Elena, let me buy you a drink.” I took the glass from her hand, smiling sweetly. “Oh, no need to be polite. It was so generous of you to buy my son a house. How much did it cost? I can reimburse you for some of it.” Melissa was stunned. Before she could speak, Tyler, her biological son, was screaming from across the room. “What? Mom, you didn’t buy me a house, you bought one for him? I’m your son!” I was enjoying this. Go on, Tyler. Melissa’s face was turning purple. Mark was annoyed. “She didn’t buy it. I did. It came from my account. Right, Melissa?” Melissa blushed. “Yes, Mark bought it. I just went with him to help with the paperwork.” But Tyler wasn’t backing down. “Why did you buy him a house? You promised you’d make Mark buy me one, and I’d call him ‘Dad’!” The room went silent. Melissa froze. She furiously slapped Tyler. “What are you talking about? I never said that!” Mark looked awkward. I knew his finances; he was successful, but a gated community house in this city was a massive expense. He wouldn’t have much left, and even if he did, he wouldn’t be thrilled about buying a house for Melissa’s son. Melissa tried to recover with a tight smile. “It’s fine. I can buy my own son a house one day. Let’s not bring this up again. Engagement toast, everyone!” Everyone was ready to move past it, but I wasn’t letting them. I chuckled softly, comforting Tyler. “Tyler, don’t be mad. Leo doesn’t actually have a house. They’re both just sixteen, they can’t own property.” My son exploded. He screamed at me, “You’re full of shit! Dad and Mom bought it, and it’s mine! I won’t let you lie about them!” I deliberately rolled my eyes to provoke him. “I don’t believe you. If you can show me the deed, I’ll apologize. What do you say?” Hearing that I would apologize, my son’s eyes flashed with triumph. He snarled, “Wait right here,” and ran back toward the master bedroom to grab the deed. Melissa panicked. She grabbed my son, screaming, “Don’t go! This is so embarrassing! She’s your mother, give her some respect!” I sneered. “No need. He doesn’t have it.” My son was furious. He broke free from Melissa’s grasp, ran back, and slammed the folder onto the table. “Look at this! The deed!” I looked down, smiled, and then it confirmed my suspicions. I sighed. “You poor child. Have you ever seen a deed that doesn’t have the official seal from the recording office?” Everyone froze. Mark was the first to react. He snatched the deed and examined it closely. Then, his face twisted in rage, and he glared at Melissa. Melissa desperately grabbed Mark’s arm. “We’ll talk later, I can explain!” Mark hesitated, looking at me. I sneered. “Your family genes are pathetic. How could you possibly win against someone like her? It’s not my fault. Your whole family is just too stupid.” I ran before they could redirect their rage at me. Martha was screaming behind me, “The deed… the deed needs an official seal?” And my son’s voice, broken and confused: “Mom… Melissa, what’s going on? Is there a mistake?” I didn’t have the patience to listen. I needed to get a DNA test for my son. I didn’t believe he was mine.

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I decided to divorce Mindy Wilson on the third day of our wedding anniversary trip. We had planned this trip for nine months, but she insisted on bringing her male assistant along, claiming she couldn’t neglect work. No matter how much I objected, it was useless. When I told her my decision to divorce, she asked, incredulously, if I was joking. I didn’t hesitate; I just nodded, clearly telling her again: “Yes, divorce.” “We don’t need to live this exhausting life. Let’s end it here.” That was my final summary of our relationship. 1 “A reason?” Mindy Wilson’s eyebrows shot up. “Marcus Heckerling, you better explain yourself clearly.” I leaned against the hotel room window, outside was the azure water of the Maldives. We were supposed to be spending a romantic fifth wedding anniversary here; this was a beautiful trip I had painstakingly planned for over half a year. But now, I only found that blue offensively garish. “You’ll know the reason soon enough.” Just then, the doorbell rang. Mindy turned, and the male assistant appeared at the door. “Ms. Wilson, the ten o’clock conference call is about to start.” Adrian Miller’s voice was deliberately lowered, thick with an unctuous tenderness. His gaze swept over me, a fleeting smirk of triumph playing on his lips. My expression remained calm. “Mindy Wilson, two days into our trip, you and your male assistant have had over a dozen conference calls.” “Day or night, you two spend more time together than you do with me.” “Do you think this marriage still needs to be maintained?” Mindy frowned, “Is there something wrong with that? You know how important this merger is to me!” “Merger?” I took a step forward, looking directly into her eyes. “For our fifth wedding anniversary trip, you brought three suitcases.” “Two of them were filled with documents.” “You didn’t pack a single outfit for me, didn’t even bring your own swimsuit, but you remembered to prepare three suits for Adrian.” “Can you explain why?” Mindy was speechless. Adrian stepped in at just the right moment, a nauseatingly humble smile on his face. “Mr. Heckerling, it’s all my fault.” “I didn’t arrange the meeting times properly, affecting your and Ms. Wilson’s itinerary.” He lowered his head slightly, his bangs falling forward, making him look innocent and wronged. “Ms. Wilson has been under too much stress lately, sometimes she forgets things. Please don’t blame her.” I watched his performance, noticing that as he spoke, his fingers unconsciously brushed Mindy’s wrist. A seemingly unintentional but deliberately intimate touch, and Mindy didn’t pull away. “Mr. Miller,” I said, my face hardening, “when I’m speaking with my wife, it’s not your place to interrupt.” Adrian immediately took half a step back. “I’m sorry, Mr. Heckerling, I was wrong.” He looked at Mindy, his eyes like a puppy caught in the rain. So pathetic. “Ms. Wilson, I’ll go prepare the meeting materials then. I won’t disturb you further.” “Wait.” Mindy grabbed his arm. She turned to me, her eyes holding that familiar stubbornness. “Marcus, don’t be unreasonable. You know the special nature of my work.” I retorted, “Special enough to share a room with your assistant discussing until two in the morning?” Then I pulled out my phone and opened my photo gallery. “Special enough that he can call you Mindy, but I, your husband, have to make an appointment just to have dinner with you?” Adrian’s face changed, but he quickly put on his innocent expression again. “Mr. Heckerling, you’ve misunderstood.” “Yesterday, because there were so many documents, we…” “Shut up.” I cut him off without ceremony. Mindy’s brows furrowed. “Marcus! How can you speak to Adrian like that? He’s my most competent assistant!” I scoffed, directly retorting, “Since he’s so excellent, then I ask, how much has he contributed to the company? How many big deals has he closed for the company?” Mindy was speechless for a moment. Adrian lowered his head, feigning self-reproach. “Mr. Heckerling is right, I do have many shortcomings and haven’t been able to share more of Ms. Wilson’s pressure.” Seeing this, Mindy immediately patted his shoulder with a pained expression, then glared at me. “Marcus, that’s enough!” “Adrian has been working almost day and night for this merger. Can’t you see his dedication?” “What right do you have to question him?” “Day and night?” I sneered. “Yes, even on our anniversary trip, he has to be stuck to you day and night. How tiring for him.” Mindy’s face flushed instantly, and she raised her voice. “Can you stop being so sarcastic?” “Adrian is my assistant, his job is to assist me. What’s wrong with that?” “Are you expecting me to drop all my work because of your unreasonable behavior?” “My unreasonable behavior?” I repeated her words, suddenly finding it incredibly absurd and laughable. I pointed at Adrian. “You two shared a room until dawn last night. As your husband, I was left alone in an empty bed.” “He blatantly touched your hand in front of me, and you couldn’t even be bothered to flinch.” “Ever since he joined the company, no matter what, if he opens his mouth, it’s always my fault.” “I can’t even question him!” “So all of this, in your eyes, is my unreasonable behavior?” Adrian quickly interjected, “Mr. Heckerling, you’ve really misunderstood. I only have respect for Ms. Wilson, absolutely no other intentions!” “No other intentions?” I sneered, “Not even a dog would believe your words!” Mindy exploded like gunpowder, shielding Adrian behind her. “Marcus, that’s enough!” “Adrian is my employee, and he’s my friend. I won’t allow you to insult him like that!” 2 I stared into her eyes, trying to find a trace of guilt or hesitation. But there was only stubbornness and anger. I suddenly felt tired, exhausted. Too weary to listen to any more of this nonsense, I simply turned and left. “Marcus!” Mindy called after me, her voice laced with a hint of panic. “Where are you going?” I didn’t look back. That night, I sat on the patio smoking. Mindy returned. “Marcus.” Her voice was much softer than during the day, with a deliberate hint of conciliation. “There are a lot of mosquitoes out here, come inside.” I didn’t move, just stared at the dark ocean outside the window. She sighed, walked over to me, and reached out to take the cigarette from my hand. I subtly shifted, avoiding her. Her slender fingers paused awkwardly in the air for a few seconds. “Don’t be like this,” she whispered. “We need to talk calmly and properly.” Only then did I look up at her. She was wearing a black, sexy lace negligee, the sheer fabric barely covering anything, gleaming seductively in the moonlight. This was a gift I’d given her on our honeymoon, which she’d always refused to wear, saying it was too revealing. I was surprised she’d brought it this time. “Does it look good?” She tilted her head slightly, a tempting smile playing on her lips. I extinguished my cigarette, stood up, and walked past her towards the room. “Put some clothes on. We need to discuss the divorce papers.” “Marcus!” She chased after me, grabbing my wrist. “What do you want from me?” “You know how much I love you, I don’t want a divorce!” I stopped, turning to face her directly. “If you don’t want a divorce, it’s simple.” “Fire Adrian immediately and promise never to have any contact with him again.” “Can you do that?” The expression on her face instantly froze. She let go of my hand and stepped back. “Just because he’s my assistant, you want me to fire someone who’s vital to the company?” “Vital?” I sneered. “He hasn’t completed a single independent project in the six months he’s been with the company. He only keeps his job by clinging to you.” “Mindy Wilson, you’re not an idiot. You’re an adult. Stop playing dumb.” Her cheeks flushed with anger. “You’re too petty! Adrian is diligent and responsible, this merger wouldn’t have been possible without him…” “Without him, it wouldn’t affect your ability to get the job done.” I cut her off without ceremony. “But you chose to let him infiltrate every corner of our lives.” “Our wedding anniversary, you brought him along.” “Our dinner date, he sat at the next table.” “Now, even during our conversation by the bed, you’re defending him.” Mindy’s chest heaved, her black lingerie trembling slightly with each breath, creating an alluring shadow in the moonlight. In the past, I would have already pulled her into my arms. But now, I only felt a surge of weariness. “You don’t understand,” she still tried to explain. “Work is like this, I need his assistance.” My voice rose. “Mindy Wilson, I’m not discussing this with you anymore.” “Either he goes, or we’re over.” “There’s no third option.” Her eyes widened; she seemed not to expect me to be so firm. Suddenly, a harsh phone ring broke the stalemate. Mindy hurried to the bedside table, glanced at the caller ID, and visibly tensed. I didn’t need to guess; it had to be Adrian calling at this hour. She answered, her expression swiftly changing from worry to panic. “What? You fell? Is it serious?” “…Okay, I’ll be right there.” Hanging up, she hastily grabbed a jacket and started to leave, not even stopping to change out of her sexy lingerie. “Mindy Wilson.” My voice was chillingly calm. “If you walk out that door today, the divorce is final.” Her hand was already on the doorknob. At my words, she paused. Time seemed to freeze; I could hear the sound of my own heartbeat. Three seconds, five seconds. She turned her head, her eyes holding an unfamiliarity I’d never seen before. “Marcus, don’t be like this,” her voice pleaded. “Adrian is really hurt. This isn’t home, he’s alone with no one to care for him…” “So what?” I straightened up. “The hotel has doctors, staff, they can even call an ambulance.” “He’s not a three-year-old child, and you’re not his mother.” Mindy: “But he’s hurt because he was working late…” “Choose, Mindy Wilson,” I cut her off. “Now, immediately.” Her lips trembled, a flicker of an emotion I couldn’t read in her eyes. Finally, she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I’ll be back soon.” The night wind blew away my last shred of hesitation. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. “Mr. Davies, regarding the divorce agreement, let’s discuss it in detail tomorrow after I return home.” 3 Mindy Wilson didn’t return all night. At four in the morning, my phone vibrated. I opened social media and saw Adrian had just posted an update. In the photo, he was sitting on a lounge chair on the hotel patio, his knee wrapped in bandages, holding a glass of champagne. Mindy stood behind him, leaning slightly close to his shoulder, a bright smile on her face. “Far from home, grateful for your company.” I closed social media and booked the earliest flight back home. As I boarded, a stranger sent me a video. In the video, a man and a woman were tumbling on a bed, kissing passionately. Though their faces were a bit blurry, I recognized the female lead immediately. I tightened my lips, directly turning off my phone. When the plane landed and I turned on my phone, dozens of missed calls and messages immediately popped up, all from Mindy. I was about to turn it off again when her call came through. “Marcus!” Her voice was distinctly angry. “Where are you? Why did you suddenly come back?” “Suddenly?” My tone was calm. “I thought my intentions were quite clear.” “Just because I went to take care of Adrian last night, you just left me and took off?” Her voice suddenly sharpened. “Do you know how worried I was, alone in that hotel?” I laughed sarcastically. “I saw you and Adrian having a great time, even posting on social media. You actually had time to worry about me?” Silence on the other end for a moment, then her slightly guilty voice came through. “He posted on social media?” “The photos are quite good,” I said coldly. “Marcus, do you have to be so sarcastic?” “Adrian fell and got hurt last night. I just went to help him with his injuries!” “As his boss and a friend, I have an obligation to look after him.” My patience completely evaporated. I sneered, “Mindy Wilson, don’t take me for a fool.” “You’re utterly unreasonable!” “Adrian and I are completely innocent. You’re just petty, you always have to think the worst!” “Whether you’re innocent or not, you know in your heart. Just wait for my divorce papers.” “Marcus!” Her voice finally carried a hint of panic. “Are you really going to divorce me over a small matter?” “It’s only a small matter to you.” “But for me, it’s a man’s bottom line.” I heard her hurried breathing on the other end, as if she still wanted to say something. But I didn’t give her the chance; I just hung up. The next day, Mindy, as if deliberately provoking me, frequently updated her social media. Sometimes it was photos of her and Adrian eating at a restaurant, sometimes she showed off gifts she received, with ambiguous captions. “Thanks to someone for the surprise, all the hard work is worth it.” I scrolled past them expressionlessly, sending her the divorce papers with the assets divided. Soon, Mindy called. “Marcus, what is this supposed to mean?” “You really think I can’t live without you, don’t you?” Too lazy to argue, I simply hung up and blocked her number. Seven nights later, on a stormy evening, I was at a friend’s gathering. A strange number sent another video. In the video, Adrian was wearing my silk pajamas, holding a glass of red wine, looking up at the huge wedding photo of Mindy and me. A mocking sneer hung on his lips, and on the bed was the sexy lingerie I bought Mindy, disheveled. An indescribable fury surged from the depths of my heart. Mindy and I weren’t even divorced yet, and he was brazenly occupying my house, acting like the man of the house. He had gone too far!

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1 The evening sun was dipping below the skyline as I walked into the kitchen to start on dinner. When I opened the trash can under the sink, a thick, cloyingly sweet scent hit my face. It was the heavy smell of overripe fruit. There, buried under a pile of vegetable scraps and eggshells, was a fresh mango pit. The flesh had been gnawed completely clean. My hands froze. Oliver was allergic to mangoes. Deathly allergic. If even a drop of the juice touched his skin, within ten minutes the area would swell, turn angrily red, and break out in a dense cluster of hives. For the five years we had been married, this was an ironclad rule in our house. Mangoes simply did not cross the threshold. Even mango-flavored candies were strictly banned. There was absolutely no way he ate this. Who did? Who had been in my kitchen while I was at work, casually eating a mango like they owned the place? I stared at the gnawed pit. That sickeningly sweet smell hanging in the air suddenly felt suffocating. The sound of a key turning in the front door broke the silence. It was Oliver. “Honey, I’m home.” His voice carried a hint of exhaustion. I heard him kick off his loafers and step into the living room. I arranged my features into a neutral expression and turned around, watching him drop his briefcase on the console table and shrug off his suit jacket. “You’re home early,” I said. “Yeah, finally wrapped up the quarterly presentation. I can actually breathe for a second.” He loosened his silk tie, his eyes scanning the kitchen. “Smells interesting. What are you making?” “I haven’t decided yet.” I kept my eyes locked on him. My voice was deadpan. “By the way, did we have company today?” His hands stopped moving on his tie. Just for a fraction of a second. He looked up, a perfectly crafted mask of confusion on his face. “Huh? No. Why do you ask?” “Nothing really.” I let my gaze slowly travel over his face. “There’s a fresh mango pit in the trash. I just thought it was weird.” Oliver swallowed hard. I watched his Adam’s apple bob before he forced a tired, dismissive chuckle. “Oh, right! That. Jesus, I completely forgot. The building management sent a maintenance guy up this afternoon to check the smoke detectors in the hallway.” He waved his hand dismissively. “The poor guy was sweating bullets. We still had that fruit basket the HOA sent over, and since there was a mango in it and I obviously can’t eat it, I just tossed it to him.” He rattled off the explanation incredibly fast, even throwing in a little theatrical annoyance at the messy blue-collar worker tossing garbage in our bin. “Is that so?” I nodded slowly. “Makes sense.” I turned back to the kitchen counter. The ghostly scent of mango still clung to the inside of my nose. The HOA did send a fruit basket, true. But that was last week. There had been exactly one mango in it. I remembered it perfectly, because the second I unpacked it, I walked right across the hall and gave it to the neighbor’s kid. There was no second mango. Later that night, while I was taking Oliver’s suit jacket to the dry-cleaning pile, I fished a crumpled receipt out of the inner pocket. I smoothed out the wrinkled paper. The ink was faded, but the details were crystal clear. The name on the order was Molly. The items were an iced Americano and a mango crepe cake. Oliver practically lived on Americanos. So that meant the mango crepe… A cold, razor-sharp realization settled in my chest. My husband was screwing around. And he was doing it with a girl who had a sweet tooth for mangoes. 2 First thing the next morning, as soon as Oliver left for the corporate office, I drove straight to the address printed on the receipt. It happened to be a subsidiary branch of our own parent corporation. The receptionist at the front desk looked up, flashing a glossy, rehearsed smile. “Good morning. Who are you here to see?” “Molly,” I said smoothly. “We have a private matter to discuss.” It didn’t take long before a girl came hurrying out to the lobby. She had soft, bouncy curls and flawless, dewy makeup. The moment she spotted me, her face lit up with an overly eager, brilliant smile. “Hi there! I’m Molly. Were you looking for me?” She was young. Vibrant. Cloaked in an aura of bubbly sweetness. But beneath that sugar-coated exterior was a sharp, territorial edge that only another woman could instantly detect. “Hello, Molly.” I gave her a curt nod. “I have a few questions I was hoping to ask you privately.” We sat down in the corner of the lobby. Molly looked across the table at me, her big eyes swimming with a perfectly calibrated mix of innocence and confusion. “It’s about the fire safety inspections,” I started, keeping my tone entirely conversational. “I heard you’re handling the property management side for our residential complex?” Molly blinked. For a split second, her mask slipped, but she quickly plastered the smile back on. “Oh? Fire safety? I think you might have the wrong person. I work in corporate operations. I don’t know the first thing about building maintenance.” Her voice was light, airy, and dripping with bewildered innocence. “Really?” I nodded slowly. “My mistake then.” “It’s just that yesterday afternoon, a maintenance guy came into my kitchen to check the alarms. He ate a mango and left the pit right in my trash can…” Molly’s fingers tightened around her paper coffee cup. Her eyes darted away from mine. “Oh wow… you know how it is with independent contractors these days, so unprofessional…” “But…” She let out a breathy little laugh. “What does any of that have to do with me?” Before she even finished the sentence, my eyes had already dropped to the table next to her hand. Sitting right there was a small paper bag embossed with the gold foil logo of Sugar & Lace. It was the exact same bakery from the crumpled receipt in Oliver’s pocket. “Are you a fan of Sugar & Lace too?” I dragged my eyes back up to her face, letting a mocking chill bleed into my voice. “I hear their mango crepe cake is to die for.” Every ounce of color instantly drained from Molly’s face. Her hand jerked violently. Scalding hot coffee sloshed over the rim of her cup, burning her fingers. She slammed the cup down in a panicked frenzy, frantically grabbing napkins to wipe up the mess, looking utterly pathetic and cornered. In that single, fractured moment, all the missing puzzle pieces snapped violently into place. I stood up and walked away without giving her a second glance. I don’t even remember the drive home. When I unlocked the front door, the apartment was pitch black. Oliver wasn’t back yet. I closed the door and just stood in the dark entryway for a long time. Divorce. The word echoed in my skull, growing louder and more solid by the second. There was nothing left to salvage. My personal laptop had been in the shop for days, so if I wanted to draft a separation agreement tonight, I had to use Oliver’s home office desktop. I pressed the power button. The screen glowed to life, asking for a password. I tried his birthday. Incorrect. I tried our wedding anniversary. Incorrect. Finally, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, I typed out the letters of Molly’s name. The desktop unlocked. It was almost too poetic to be real. Right there on the center of the desktop was a newly created folder. It was simply titled: Notice. Some dark, twisting intuition at the bottom of my stomach told me to click it. Inside was a single PDF file. The header made my blood run cold. Notice of Immediate Termination Regarding Regional Operations Director Victoria. The corporate jargon was brutally formal. It accused me of gross negligence, claiming I had leaked highly classified financial data to a rival firm during the Apex Corporation merger, causing massive financial damages. Based on company bylaws, I was to be fired immediately and stripped of all stock options. The signature at the bottom belonged to the Head of Corporate HR. My husband. Oliver. A toxic cocktail of absolute terror and blinding rage flooded my veins, turning my hands to ice. The most disturbing part? The date on the termination notice was set for next week. I was the lead director on the Apex project. Just last week, Oliver had specifically pushed me to take full control of the final data models. He had kissed my forehead and told me how crucial this account was for my year-end promotion to Vice President. I gripped the edge of the desk, forcing air into my burning lungs. I needed to think. This wasn’t just a dirty little affair. Oliver had dug a grave for me, and he was standing at the edge waiting for me to jump in. Next week was the final wrap-up meeting with the clients. The second that meeting ended, the trap would snap shut. My mind flashed back to the lobby this morning. To Molly. Printed right beneath her smiling face on her company badge were the words: Operations Department. It all made perfect, sickening sense now. I reached out and slowly closed the document window. If they had already dug the grave, it would be rude of me not to play along. I guess we were about to find out who was going in the dirt first. Me, or my husband and his little mango-loving sidepiece. 3 Five days later, the Apex project wrap-up meeting commenced exactly as planned. I stood at the head of the massive mahogany conference table, delivering the final financial breakdown. The executives from Apex Corporation were nodding along, looking incredibly pleased. “Victoria, this report is absolutely stellar. The data is bulletproof, and your market analysis is sharper than anything we’ve seen in Q3,” said Mr. Davis, the CEO of Apex. “If this is the caliber of leadership we can expect, we are very much looking forward to the next phase of the merger.” A murmur of agreement rippled through the executives. Everyone in the room knew about my marriage to Oliver. A few of the board members chuckled good-naturedly. “Director Oliver, your wife is an absolute powerhouse. You two are quite the corporate power couple.” Oliver was sitting directly across from me. He wore a perfectly tailored suit and a humble, affectionate smile. He didn’t say a word, just raised his coffee mug to me in a silent toast. As I stepped down from the projector, I swept my eyes across the room. There, sitting quietly in the very back row taking notes, was Molly. I had no idea how she managed to sneak into an executive-level meeting, but she was keeping her head down. The meeting was wrapping up. The atmosphere was light and celebratory. My direct superior, Vice President Harrison, was just leaning into his microphone to adjourn the session. Suddenly, Molly raised her hand. “VP Harrison, Mr. Davis, I am so sorry to interrupt,” she said. Her voice was clear, ringing with polite hesitation. “But regarding the core pricing strategy data that Director Victoria just presented… I have a major concern.” The entire boardroom fell dead silent. “What kind of concern?” VP Harrison asked, his brow furrowing. Molly turned her big, Bambi eyes toward me. But this time, there was a vicious glint in them. “Those specific data sets… I’ve seen them before. They look incredibly familiar.” The bottom fell out of my stomach. “Seen them?” Mr. Davis of Apex stood up, his face hardening. “Young lady, are you absolutely certain? That is highly classified, proprietary data shared only between our two firms. Only three people in this entire building have the security clearance to even view it.” “I am absolutely certain.” Molly’s voice grew stronger, carrying a note of self-righteousness. “I’ve definitely seen it. But it wasn’t on our secure servers. I just… I can’t quite remember where.” Every single pair of eyes in the room snapped toward me. The air in the room turned to lead. VP Harrison’s face flushed an ugly shade of red. He slammed his hand on the table and glared at me, his voice vibrating with suppressed fury. “Victoria! What the hell is the meaning of this? Explain yourself!” Oliver slowly lowered his coffee mug. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His eyes locked onto mine, completely devoid of emotion. The silence was deafening. They were all waiting for the guillotine to drop on my neck. I looked at Molly’s fake, distressed face. Then I looked at Oliver’s dead, shark-like eyes. A slow, genuine smile spread across my face. “VP Harrison, Mr. Davis,” I said, my voice projecting loud and steady across the room. “Molly is actually telling the truth. It is entirely possible she has seen this data elsewhere.” Chaos erupted. “Victoria! Are you confessing to this?! Do you have any idea the magnitude of what you’ve done?!” VP Harrison was practically spitting, slamming his fist on the mahogany wood. “This is corporate espionage! It’s a federal crime!” Mr. Davis shoved his chair back violently. “We demand a full audit immediately! Call the authorities!” “Unbelievable!” The waves of outrage crashed over me. Oliver leaned back in his leather chair, his eyes dropping to the table, looking like a man tragically betrayed by his wife. Molly quickly lowered her head, her shoulders dropping as she relaxed into her victory. Just as the screaming reached a fever pitch, I casually raised the presentation clicker and pressed the button. The projector screen behind me flashed. The financial graphs vanished, replaced by a brand new slide. I let out a soft, icy laugh. “I said it was possible Molly had seen the data. I never said I was the one who leaked it.”

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My consciousness was trapped within my own heart, reawakening inside Vivian Vance. It was then I understood. That so-called car accident was nothing but a smokescreen. Their real target was my heart. Eden Brown, my fiancé of five years, had ended my life with his own surgical knife. He covered me with a white sheet, declared my death, then turned and gently told Vivian, “Vivian, I’ve given you her heart.” Vivian Vance, my best friend for ten years, was the ultimate beneficiary of this murder. It turned out that on the third day after I was declared brain dead, Eden had personally closed my eyes and then performed the heart removal surgery. They treated me as mere “consumable material” to provide a heart, unaware that from inside Vivian’s chest, I could clearly see all their ugly faces. The shadowless lamp in the operating room was colder than any light in a morgue. Eden, in his sterile gown, his profile as handsome as ever, looked at Vivian with a tenderness I had never seen before. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Vivian’s forehead. “Vivian, don’t be afraid.” “With her heart, you will be reborn.” “From now on, you must love me twice as much, for her sake too.” Vivian lay on the adjacent operating table, her face pale, yet a victor’s smile played at the corners of her eyes. “Eden, I’ve waited for this day for so long.” “Chloe… will she disappear completely?” Eden’s hand, holding the scalpel, was steady, without a single tremor. He even let out a soft chuckle, his tone resolute and cruel. “Of course. I’ve already signed the death certificate.” “An accidental car crash, brain death. No suspicious details.” So, that sudden car accident was meticulously planned by them. My best friend and the man I loved most. We were the envy of outsiders, an unbreakable trio. Eden was a top cardiac surgeon, I was a rising designer, and Vivian was our mutual friend. I believed our friendship and love were indestructible. I shared everything with Vivian, including my fiancé, Eden. I thought she was frail and needed care, so I asked Eden to look after her more. I thought she was lonely, so I invited her to live with us in our wedding home, sharing meals and space. I even gave her the wedding gown I designed myself, which was meant for me, as a birthday gift. I said, “Vivian, when you get married someday, I’ll design an even more beautiful one for you.” At the time, she was moved to tears, hugging me and saying, “Chloe, you’re the best friend I’ll ever have.” Looking back now, it’s nothing short of ironic. The moment the scalpel sliced open my chest, I felt no physical pain. Only the excruciating agony of my soul being ripped apart. I watched my heart, held in Eden’s hand. That heart that had beaten for him for ten whole years. He didn’t spare it a single glance, walking directly to Vivian. “Vivian, close your eyes. It’ll be over soon.” He soothed her tenderly, just as he had soothed me countless times when I was ill. No, even more gently than he had ever treated me. As my heart was placed into Vivian’s chest, as her blood merged with my heart. I thought my soul would dissipate then and there. But a powerful suction force firmly locked my consciousness into that confined space. I, inside Vivian’s body, had come back to life. Vivian’s heart transplant surgery was a tremendous success. Eden had pulled nearly every string he had, arranging for the best post-operative care team for her. He stayed by Vivian’s bedside twenty-four hours a day, never leaving her side. And I, like a spectator trapped in a cage, was forced to watch their display of affection. I couldn’t control this body, couldn’t even make a sound. I could only listen, only watch. Watching Eden peel apples for her, feed her water. Watching him carefully wipe her body, his eyes full of tenderness and adoration. All of these had once been exclusively mine. Vivian revelled in it all, like a queen, openly accepting Eden’s devoted service. “Eden, I want a bubble tea from that new shop downstairs, full of taro paste and boba.” Eden immediately put down what he was doing, without a hint of impatience. “Okay, you lie still. I’ll go get it right away.” After he left, the fragility on Vivian’s face vanished instantly, replaced by a triumphant smirk. She took out her phone, opening a photo of Eden and me. In the picture, I was smiling brightly, leaning intimately against Eden’s shoulder. Vivian extended a finger and harshly swiped across my face. “Chloe, you really were a fool.” “Did you truly believe Eden loved you?” “He’s loved me since college. Being with you was just because your heart was healthy enough to prolong my life.” “Your fiancé, your love… now, even your heart is mine.” “Everything you had, I’ve taken. Aren’t you happy?” My consciousness was screaming, yelling. But translated to this body, it only caused Vivian’s fingertips to tremble slightly. She frowned, dismissed it, and deleted the photo. Soon, Eden returned with the bubble tea. He carefully inserted the straw and held it to Vivian’s lips. Vivian took a big gulp, but then suddenly grimaced. “Ugh, why is it so sweet? It’s sickening.” She pushed the bubble tea away with a look of disgust. Eden looked somewhat perplexed. “Didn’t you used to love this kind, full sugar?” “I don’t know, it just suddenly feels really nauseating,” Vivian said, annoyed. My consciousness sneered. That’s right, Vivian had an insatiable sweet tooth, while I absolutely detested overly sweet things. My greatest love was bitter black coffee. The game, it seemed, could now begin. The next day, Vivian was finally able to get out of bed and walk around. Eden supported her as they strolled through the hospital garden. As they passed the hospital coffee shop, Vivian’s steps involuntarily halted. The rich aroma of coffee wafted over, and I felt a long-lost craving. Vivian, however, covered her nose. “It’s so bitter, let’s hurry up and leave.” Yet, her feet seemed to be rooted to the spot, unable to move. Her mouth, under the strong influence of my consciousness, even opened uncontrollably. “I… want a cup of black coffee.” Eden froze. He stared at Vivian, his eyes filled with scrutiny and confusion. “Vivian, you never drink coffee, especially not black coffee.” Vivian also panicked. She could feel that uncontrollable urge within her body. “I… I don’t know, I just… suddenly wanted to try it,” she stammered, explaining. Eden gave her a deep look, but eventually conceded. “Alright, I’ll get you one, but you can only have a small sip.” When that piping hot, pure black coffee was handed to Vivian, my consciousness trembled with excitement. Under Eden’s gaze, Vivian reluctantly took a small, disgusted sip. The bitter liquid slid down her throat, and she almost gagged. But the next second, a strange sense of satisfaction spread from the location of her heart, through every inch of her body. It was my lingering obsession, finally sated. Vivian’s expression transformed from a pained grimace to a momentary look of bewilderment and comfort. This subtle change did not escape Eden’s eyes. His brow furrowed even deeper. On the day she was discharged, Eden took Vivian back to the home he and I had shared, our marital home. Everything there was exactly as it had been before my death. My design drafts lay scattered on the desk, my clothes still hung in the wardrobe, and the air even carried the faint scent of my usual perfume. Eden apparently had no intention of clearing out my belongings. The moment Vivian stepped through the door, she eagerly asserted her claim. She walked into the walk-in closet and threw out all my clothes. “Eden, throw away all this junk, it’s an eyesore.” A flicker of displeasure crossed Eden’s face, but he complied. He packed my clothes one by one, as if packaging a past he had personally buried. I watched my favourite red dress, destined for an awards ceremony, being nonchalantly shoved into a trash bag. I remembered smiling and asking him, “Eden, do I look pretty in this?” He had kissed my eyes then and said, “My Chloe looks beautiful in anything.” The vows still echoed, but his heart had changed. That night, Eden and Vivian lay on the bed that had once been ours. In the darkness, I could feel Vivian’s anticipation and excitement, and Eden’s… slight distraction. Vivian wrapped herself around him like a snake. “Eden, I’m all better, we can…” But Eden suddenly rolled over, turning his back to her. “Vivian, you just had surgery. Your body still needs to recover.” Vivian’s body stiffened. This was the first time Eden had refused her since they’d been together. “Eden, what’s wrong?” Eden was silent for a long time before he finally whispered, “Nothing, go to sleep.” But I knew he wasn’t asleep. Because in the dead of night, I heard him unconsciously murmur a name. “Chloe…” That single “Chloe,” like a bolt of lightning, struck Vivian’s heart. It was also like a powerful shot of adrenaline, injecting itself into my consciousness. The next day, Vivian’s face was dark. She confronted Eden, “Whose name did you call last night?” Eden, in the middle of tying his tie, paused, his eyes a little evasive. “I just had a dream, don’t overthink it.” Vivian wouldn’t let it go. “You dreamt of Chloe? Are you still thinking about her?” Eden’s patience seemed to wear thin. He turned, grabbing Vivian’s chin, his grip a little rough. “Vivian, Chloe is dead.” “The one standing alive in front of me now is you.” “Stop being unreasonable.” His tone was cold, and Vivian’s eyes immediately welled up. “I’m sorry, Eden, I’m just… so scared.” “I’m afraid you still love her.” Eden’s expression softened. He sighed and pulled her into a hug. “Fool, you’re the one I’ve always loved. For her, perhaps there was some affection, but more than that… it was guilt.” “I will spend my life making it up to you.” The same old excuses. I watched their saccharine charade with cold contempt, finding it nothing short of nauseating. After Eden left for work, Vivian was alone in the empty mansion. Bored, she turned on the TV, but every channel irritated her. Finally, her gaze fell upon the cluttered design desk in the study. On it were my unfinished graduation design drafts. It was the work I had poured countless hours into, intending to submit it to an international competition. Vivian walked over, picked up a design draft, and scoffed contemptuously. “What a mess.” She casually picked up a pen, intending to doodle on it. But the moment the pen tip touched the paper, her hand moved beyond her control. Driven by my intense consciousness, her wrist began to dance across the paper with a professional, fluid grace completely unfamiliar to her. The lines, contours, and details I had conceived a thousand times in my mind were now manifesting through her hand. Vivian’s eyes widened in horror. She wanted to stop, to throw the pen away. But her body, as if possessed, completely disobeyed her. She could only watch herself, stroke by stroke, completing my unfinished work to perfection. When the final stroke fell, the entire design draft burst forth with astonishing vitality. Vivian’s hand finally regained control. She dropped the pen as if shocked by electricity, backing away rapidly. She stared at the flawless gown on the paper, cold sweat trickling down her back. “No… I didn’t draw this…” “It’s Chloe… it’s her! She’s back!” She shrieked, stumbling out of the study. And I, looking at the design draft that embodied all my dreams and hard work, for the first time, felt the thrill of revenge in another’s body. This, was just the beginning. When Eden returned, he found Vivian huddled in the corner of the sofa, trembling. “What’s wrong? You look awful.” Vivian clung to him like a drowning person grabbing a lifeline, her voice shaking. “Eden, there’s a ghost! There’s a ghost in the mansion!” “It’s Chloe, she’s back! She’s possessed me!” She incoherently recounted what had happened that afternoon. Eden’s brows furrowed deeply. He led Vivian to the study. When he saw the completed design draft, his pupils constricted sharply. The style of this drawing, the unique brushstrokes—without a doubt, they belonged to Chloe. It was even more mature, more stunning than Chloe’s previous works. This was absolutely something Vivian, who knew nothing about design, could not have drawn. “Eden, believe me, I really didn’t draw it!” Vivian cried. Eden silently gazed at the drawing, his eyes dark and unreadable. After a long moment, he slowly spoke, his voice hoarse. “Vivian, you’re too tired, you’re hallucinating.” “There are no ghosts in this world.” He took Vivian back to their room, even giving her a sedative injection. Vivian quickly fell asleep. Eden, however, returned to the study alone. He stood before the design desk, his fingertips gently tracing the paper, as if caressing a precious treasure. His gaze held a mixture of obsession and pain that I had never seen before. “Chloe… is that you?” “Are you really… back?” He whispered, like a madman. From that day on, Eden grew increasingly strange. He began calling my name, looking at Vivian’s face. One time, Vivian was humming a song in the kitchen, her favorite pop tune. Eden walked over, hugged her from behind, and whispered in her ear, “Chloe, stop singing, I want to hear you sing ‘Moonlight’.” “Moonlight” was my favorite song. Vivian’s singing stopped abruptly, her body stiff. “Eden, what did you call me?” Eden, as if waking from a dream, released her. “Nothing, I misheard.” Another time, they went to a restaurant for dinner. Vivian ordered her favorite strawberry cake. Eden, however, frowned, pushed the cake aside, and replaced it with a cup of black coffee. “Too many sweets are bad for your heart,” he said flatly. Then, he gazed at Vivian, a hint of expectation in his eyes. “Try this, you’ll like it.” Under my influence, Vivian no longer resisted black coffee as much. She hesitantly took a sip. Eden, seeing her lack of disgust, actually let out a satisfied smile. That smile held a morbid fascination and a maniacal joy. Vivian felt a chill run down her spine. Who did Eden truly love? Was it Vivian Vance, or was it the shadow of Chloe, wearing her skin?

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