Category: English

When I was eighteen, I witnessed my father sneaking into our young nanny’s room late at night. I knew right then — he had betrayed my mother. But I didn’t wake Mom. Instead, I waited by the door until he came out. I had a calm conversation with him. Either divorce and I’d stay with Mom, or fire the nanny. Dad’s expression was heavy as he thought it over all night. The next day, he made me a promise. “I won’t see that nanny again.” Three years later, I learned that Mom had almost miscarried. Under my relentless questioning, Mom finally revealed the truth: “I saw your father with that woman with my own eyes! The shock caused the bleeding… Megan, what should I do?” I took a deep breath. Half an hour later, I returned to the country with my appointment letter in hand. Since Dad chose to break his word, he couldn’t blame me for blacklisting him from the entire industry. When I arrived at the hospital, Mom lay in bed like a puppet, her swollen belly clearly visible beneath the blanket. But my maternal grandmother, Eleanor, showed no consideration for Mom’s feelings whatsoever. “If you get divorced, there’s no room for you at home. Megan still needs to get married — you have to think about your child.” “I heard Matthew is about to be promoted to Vice President with double the salary. You’re carrying his son now. If you divorce, won’t you just be handing everything to that woman?” My maternal grandfather, Harold, was even more blunt. “What man doesn’t stray? Your nephew is about to buy a house and get married. He’s planning to borrow a million from Matthew. Just bear with it for now.” Despite being Mom’s own parents, Eleanor and Harold spoke over each other, trying to smooth things over. On the surface, they claimed to be thinking of Mom, but in reality, they were sacrificing her to support my uncle. Seeing Mom’s silent tears, I spoke harshly to Eleanor and Harold for the first time. “From now on, Mom has me. Please leave!” When Mom saw me enter, she grasped at me like a lifeline and broke into sobs. Eleanor and Harold spat in disgust, called me an ungrateful wretch, and stormed off. Mom couldn’t hold back her wailing anymore, as if trying to cry out all her grievances. “Your father and that tramp — it wasn’t just once or twice. He promised me that if I had a son through IVF, he’d completely cut ties with Susan.” That’s when I learned the whole story. Dad never fired Susan at all. The moment I left, he brought her back. The first time Mom caught them in the act was in the garage, seeing them together. She made a scene and demanded Dad end it. Dad gave her the silent treatment. When Mom tried to file a complaint against Susan’s company, they had a violent argument. Mom had once tried to have an honest conversation with Dad. He vented all the resentment buried in his heart. He blamed Mom for not giving him a son and promised that if she had a son through IVF, he’d break things off with Susan. Mom was furious and wanted a divorce, but her relatives’ persuasion made her waver. She was afraid the divorce would affect my career abroad, so she compromised. During my participation in new energy research, I was cut off from all outside contact. Yesterday, she had wanted to reconcile with Dad on their wedding anniversary, but Dad sent her Susan’s pregnancy ultrasound. Under the double shock, Mom nearly lost both her life and the baby’s. “I wanted him to send Susan away before you came back. You shouldn’t have to know about such dirty things… but he was too cruel.” Mom’s eyes were filled with shame. I shook my head through my tears and told her about what happened three years ago. Mom was shocked, both moved and remorseful: “This is my fault for making you bear so much.” I comforted her: “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll handle everything.” Dad was in the VIP room upstairs because Susan had stomach pains — scared by what happened with Mom. When he saw me arrive, Dad set down his cake spoon, a flash of embarrassment crossing his face. I confronted him: “Dad, what did you promise me! You taught me since childhood to keep my word.” A bouquet was thrown at my feet as Dad roared at me: “I’m your father! Show some respect!” “Don’t think that just because you got some worthless diploma from a no-name foreign university, you’ve grown wings!” “Susan is carrying my child now. You and your mother better behave, or you’ll both get nothing!” He protectively held the pretending-to-be-pitiful Susan in his arms. I just sneered. Who cared about his pocket change! The money in my account could literally bury this pair of cheating scum if I withdrew it all! But seeing Susan’s slightly protruding belly, my anger deflated like a punctured balloon. I spoke calmly: “I will pursue your marital infidelity to the end. Just wait to leave with nothing.” Dad thought I was just making empty threats. Without hesitation, he raised his hand. Just as he was about to strike, I dodged. It seemed Dad wasn’t even pretending anymore. Good. That meant I didn’t need to hold back either. Three years ago, I had submitted an application to use my achievements to exchange for an opportunity to join Dad’s company. To help Dad fulfill his lifelong dream. I never expected that his promotion would give him the confidence to abandon his wife and daughter. Dad didn’t know that I was his new boss. The higher Dad climbed now, the harder I’d make him fall.

“Your father wasn’t always like this…” Finding the tissue box empty, I could only use the back of my hand to wipe Mom’s tears while waiting for a VIP room to open up. “If you want a divorce, I fully support you.” Since my work was classified, I only told Mom I had a job. But she misunderstood. “You’ve been such a good student since childhood. With the economy so bad now, just having a job is good. Mom has savings to support you.” I smiled softly, about to reveal that I was going to be Dad’s boss. But Eleanor and Harold burst in, interrupting me. Eleanor dramatically stroked Mom’s pregnant belly, clasping her hands together in prayer. “Claire, you’ve been with Matthew for over thirty years. What storm can’t you weather?” “Matthew’s about to become Vice President with double the salary, and you’re pregnant with his son. If you divorce now, won’t you just be handing everything to that woman!” Harold was even more direct. “What man doesn’t cheat? Your nephew is about to buy a house and get married. He’s planning to borrow a million from Matthew. Just bear with it for now.” Eleanor and Harold, despite being Mom’s own parents, chattered away trying to smooth things over. On the surface claiming to think of Mom, but actually sacrificing her to support my uncle. Seeing Mom silently crying, I spoke harshly to Eleanor and Harold for the first time. “From now on, Mom has me. Please leave, or I’ll call security.” Eleanor and Harold’s faces flushed with embarrassment. Unable to argue back, they could only curse me as an ungrateful old maid. When I pretended to expose Dad and his mistress, they frantically grabbed me. “We’re leaving! Don’t make a scene and affect his promotion.” Before leaving, they stuffed a thousand dollars into Mom’s hands, saying it was for supplements. “Don’t divorce. At worst, raise that nanny’s child. In the future, you’ll have one more child to care for you.” Mom threw the money at their feet. “I’m definitely divorcing Matthew!” Seeing they could no longer control Mom, they slunk away. I stayed with Mom in the hospital for three days of observation. When we returned home, I immediately noticed two banners hanging in the main hall. Celebrating Queen Susan’s 30th Birthday Congratulations to Mr. Rivers on His Promotion to Vice President of the Energy Corporation Dad and Susan stood on the steps, calmly accepting the guests’ blessings and flattery. Seeing me and Mom return, the crowd knowingly parted to create a path. “I told you they’d come to celebrate. The birthday girl was just asking about you two.” “She’s so kind, specially giving you the honor of cutting the double celebration cake so you can share in the good fortune.” Mom and I were pushed in front of the eight-tier cake, knives pressed into our hands. Dad’s voice was filled with joy: “Ms. Anderson has always been understanding and a strong businesswoman. Our collaborations have all been very successful.” “Everyone should consider using her housekeeping company. Today I’ve hired a chef — please enjoy yourselves.” So Dad had packaged Susan as a female entrepreneur and was using the opportunity to drum up business for her. In the past, when he threw parties for Mom, he only invited both sets of parents for a simple meal. Feeling Mom’s trembling, I pulled her forward. Facing all the guests, I clapped to get their attention and spoke loudly. “I have to ask — since when did our housekeeper become a boss? What exactly has Dad been collaborating with the housekeeper on? Collaborating on affairs or getting pregnant?” That sentence was like cold water dropped into hot oil. The guests’ mocking eyes stuck to Susan, leaving her nowhere to hide. But with Dad’s encouragement, Susan smiled confidently. Videos of Mom’s breakdown played on the wall, along with photos of me intimate with a man. “Miss Rivers, you should go to the hospital and get tested for STDs.” “Your mom looks crazy — you should take her to a mental hospital.” Dad sighed, looking like a man unfortunate in his family.

Instantly, all the guests turned mocking eyes on me. Some elders even spat at me, and their crude insults drowned me out. “Matthew spent so much money sending her abroad to study, and she went there to sleep around! I bet her fifty-year-old mom having a miracle baby at her age isn’t innocent either.” Eleanor and Harold straightened their clothes and stood tall next to Susan. Mom clutched her belly and groaned. I rushed over to support her. Sweat soaked her hair. She gripped my hand and shouted loudly. “Matthew, you have such a vicious heart! You had an affair with our housekeeper and even got her pregnant, but you don’t have the guts to admit it? My daughter went abroad to study with a clean reputation, and you conspired with this tramp to photoshop pictures and ruin her name. I’ll get a lawyer to sue you both!” I scattered the copies I’d prepared in my bag — Susan’s pregnancy ultrasound and intimate photos of her with Dad. The atmosphere in the room instantly turned against Dad and Susan. Seeing Susan couldn’t withstand the pressure, her eyes red like a rabbit’s, Dad couldn’t pretend to be distant anymore and pulled her tightly into his arms. The room fell deathly silent. Dad simply came clean: “Susan and I love each other. It’s rare that at over fifty, I’ve met true love. Claire and I had an arranged marriage. She almost let my family line die out.” “But I’m not a heartless man. I won’t divorce Claire. And Susan isn’t a shallow woman — she has her career to pursue. We won’t get married.” Everyone cheered and applauded his declaration of true love. Seeing he’d controlled the situation, Dad smugly pointed at Mom: “Just have the baby. After you’ve recovered, you can help Susan with her postpartum care. Megan, you shouldn’t work outside either. Dad will pay you to take care of your younger brothers.” “Matthew, you bastard! My daughter is more capable than you!” “Who do you think you’re looking down on! We’ll live better than you.” Mom cursed him out, but she didn’t mention my upcoming position. But all she got was roaring laughter. Everyone thought she was talking big. She firmly stood in front of me, angrily cursing those with ill intentions toward me. “Matthew, I married you at eighteen when you were so poor you couldn’t even afford rent. I worked three jobs a day to pay the rent and saved money to put you through college.” “The only reason you got into the energy corporation was because I traded my life for that opportunity. If I hadn’t saved Director Smith, in those days when jobs were so scarce, you getting in would’ve been pure fantasy!” “Shut up! That was my own ability!” Dad got angry. “Your ability is sleeping with a nanny younger than your daughter! Shameless!” As my parents continued arguing, Eleanor and Harold surrounded Mom, trying to calm her down and appease Dad. After the guests dispersed, Dad stormed upstairs with Susan. I took Mom to the hospital for oxygen. She looked dazed. In my memory, Dad had never raised his voice at Mom. He’d always been smiling, helping Mom cook. After I was born, we’d had a very happy childhood for a while. But now everything was unrecognizable. Some family ties needed to be cut when they needed to be cut.

But Dad didn’t let up. Eleanor and Harold came to Mom again, urging her to make peace with Dad. “Matthew refuses to lend money to your brother. Your nephew is about to get married, but the bride’s family says they’ll cancel the wedding if he doesn’t buy a house. Daughter, just sweet-talk Matthew for now.” “Loan interest is so high! As his aunt, you have to help your nephew!” I was about to say I’d lend the money when Mom covered my mouth. She agreed to go see Dad. On the way, I was confused: “I have money. If my cousin needs it, I can lend it to him.” Mom shook her head, her eyes filled with a determination I couldn’t understand: “That’s your uncle’s business. You don’t owe him anything. You don’t understand them — once you lend this money, it’ll be hard to get back.” “This divorce — I’m going through with it. But first, I need to put on a show.” The route led to the National Energy Company. Tomorrow was my official reporting day. Today I could familiarize myself with the place. We found our way to Dad’s office. He was glowing, listening to his subordinates’ flattery. Seeing me and Mom, his expression changed drastically. “You two go home now. The security guard should be criticized for letting just anyone in!” Dad slammed the table, telling his subordinate to reprimand the guard. “Mr. Rivers, the guard was someone you brought in.” Dad suddenly realized and stopped pursuing the guard’s responsibility, instead urging us to leave. “Say what you need to say and leave quickly.” Mom sat calmly on the sofa and spoke lightly: “What you said the other day woke me up. I choose to divorce you.” “Just sign it.” Dad was instantly furious at being slapped in the face. He stood up, slamming the table and cursing. “You want a divorce? Fine! But you have to pay back every penny I spent on you over the years! Otherwise, I’ll send you to prison!” Before I could speak, Susan barged in, making a scene. “Everyone help Mr. Rivers get justice! Today this money must be recovered!” Susan wore a business suit, looking like an elite professional. I hadn’t expected Dad to bring Susan into the corporation. “Uncle Matthew, is this the girlfriend you’re setting me up with?” A sleazy voice sounded in my ear. I turned to see a man nearly fifty reaching his hand toward me. “This is my uncle. He’s never been in a relationship. He doesn’t mind your messy private life. Miss Rivers, you should treasure this.” Susan stood next to the still-angry Dad, her face full of malice. “Get away! Don’t touch my daughter!” Mom protectively stood in front of me like a mother hen. The few leading the jeering were clearly Susan’s relatives. Dad was really something — treating the corporation like his private garden. Susan’s relatives kept stirring things up, disturbing the leader in the next office. “Mr. Rivers can’t encourage this kind of bad behavior. Today I’ll make the call — Ms. Taylor will get her money back. As a family member of Mr. Rivers disrupting corporate order, she must be severely criticized.” I looked up and memorized his face. The timing was about right. The person I was waiting for would arrive soon. Just then, an authoritative voice rang out. “Mr. Rivers is right! This must be dealt with seriously today!” Dad’s face lit up as he fawned over the Vice President: “As the Vice President says, arrest them immediately.” Everyone stepped aside respectfully, watching as the Vice President slowly walked toward me. But the storm Dad expected didn’t come. The Vice President respectfully extended his hand to me. “Let me introduce everyone. This is our new CEO, Ms. Megan Rivers.” Dad’s smugness instantly froze on his face.

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“Who do you want to live with? Your father or your mother?” Mom asked me and my younger sister Lily on the day of the divorce. In my past life, I chose Mom. Dad was in a better financial situation, so following him would probably be easier for Lily. Later, Mom married a wealthy American businessman and took me to immigrate to the United States. Under my stepfather’s guidance, I learned figure skating. At eighteen, I became the first-ever American-Mexican female singles figure skating champion at the Olympics. But in this life, Lily beat me to it and said, “I’ll go with Mom.” “And what about you, Elena? Is your decision the same as hers?” I looked into Mom’s eyes. “Then I’ll go with Dad,” I said. The judge glanced at me again, probably thinking that this pair of twin sisters was unusually mature for their age, but didn’t dwell on it and continued processing the paperwork. Mom’s expression dimmed. She probably expected me to choose her. After all, I did choose her in my past life. She reached out and hugged me, then ran her hand through Lily’s hair. Lily obediently leaned into Mom’s embrace, but her eyes moved past Mom’s shoulder to look at me. That one look contained too much. It wasn’t the look an eight-year-old girl should have. It seemed Lily had also been reborn. But why did she want to take it? Whatever. One chance each—that’s fair enough. In my past life, Mom married that American businessman, and my stepfather treated me like his own daughter. I smoothly progressed in figure skating and became an Olympic champion at eighteen. That script was certainly appealing. I didn’t want to suspect her with ill intent. I understood her. But something in my heart still felt a slight prick from that look. The wind was strong outside the courthouse, though the rain had lightened. Dad came over with an umbrella, bent down to look at me, and said, “Let’s go.” His tone wasn’t exactly gentle—somewhat stiff, even. Dad had never been good at expressing emotions. In my past life, he sent me birthday gifts every year. The gift box always contained a card with just four words: “Happy Birthday.” Even the punctuation was perfectly proper. I stood up and followed him into the rain. When Dad started the car, I noticed his profile. A bit younger than I remembered from my past life—no gray hair at his temples yet, his jawline tight, as if he were clenching his teeth. It wasn’t that he didn’t love us. He just didn’t know how to show it. In my past life, Lily told me that after the divorce, Dad became much more silent. Later, when he married that woman, the atmosphere at home became even more tense. Lily said “that house was like an ice cellar.” Eventually, even the ice cellar was gone, leaving only Dad alone. As the car pulled out of the courthouse parking lot, I saw through the rearview mirror Mom and Lily standing at the entrance waiting for a taxi. Mom held Lily’s hand tightly. Lily’s face was small, rainwater plastering her bangs to her forehead. She didn’t look at me. I didn’t look at her again either. Dad’s new place was in New York. We lived in a three-bedroom apartment near the city center—not large, but kept very clean. My room faced south with good sunlight. New stationery and a desk lamp had already been set up on the desk. My grandmother had prepared them in advance, not Dad. Dad probably wouldn’t think of such details. The first week after moving in passed very quietly. Dad left early and came home late. I went to my new school during the day, came home after school, did homework, read, and went to bed on time. No one checked my homework. No one asked if I had a good day at school. The fridge was always stocked with pre-made dishes covered in plastic wrap—just heat them in the microwave and eat. This must have been the environment Lily grew up in during my past life. I suddenly understood a bit better why she became so sharp later on. “Lily is different from you,” my grandmother said once when she came to visit, sitting on the sofa peeling an orange. “She takes after her mother—quick-tempered, easily ignited. You take after your father—a closed book, keeping everything bottled up inside.” After my grandmother left, I sat alone in the living room for a while, thinking about one thing: when would Dad remarry? According to what Lily said in my past life, Dad married that woman when she was ten years old. Two years from now. What was that woman’s name again? Lily mentioned it, but I didn’t pay much attention. In my past life, I maintained a distant attitude toward Dad’s new family, after all, I had no contact with them. I only remembered Lily’s assessment of her: domineering, cold, extremely controlling. Lily’s exact words. I mentally tagged this stepmother I’d never met, then felt it wasn’t quite fair. After all, in my past life Lily was quick-tempered—if they couldn’t get along, it might not have been entirely the other person’s fault. Days passed one by one. Having an eighteen-year-old soul in an eight-year-old body was a strange experience. In any case, I didn’t act like a student of this age. Since I’d switched scripts in this life, I needed to figure out what I really wanted.

Figure skating. I lay in bed. In my past life, I started learning to skate when I was a bit over six years old. By eight or nine, I was already in formal training at a club in the United States. Now I was almost ten. If I still wanted to pursue that path, I was already starting late. And would Dad even send me to learn? In my past life, my stepfather loved winter sports and discovered my talent on his own. But Dad? Dad didn’t even have time to share a weekend meal with me. Would he be willing to drive me to the rink every week, pay expensive tuition, and hire coaches for me? I didn’t know. But I knew one thing: Lily would pursue that path. Sure enough, a few months later, Mom’s social media started showing photos of Lily at the ice rink. The first one showed Lily standing on the ice in rental skates. I stared at that photo for a long time. Everything was identical to the post Mom had made in my memories from my past life. The script hadn’t changed—only the protagonist had switched. I closed my phone and shut my eyes. There was an indescribable feeling in my chest—not jealousy, more like looking in a mirror and seeing someone else’s reflection. Over the next few years, Mom’s social media became my main channel for following Lily’s activities. She updated frequently, posting videos or photos of Lily’s training every two or three days. At ten, she started practicing double jumps. That same year, Mom posted a very long update saying that Lily had been noticed by a famous figure skating coach—a former Olympic medalist who was willing to take Lily as a student. The accompanying photo showed Lily with the coach, both standing at the edge of the rink. Lily wore training clothes, her face lit up with a brilliant smile. I recognized that coach. In my past life, he had been my coach too. In that moment, my last shred of hope vanished. Lily didn’t just want to learn figure skating—she wanted to completely replicate the path I’d walked in my past life. The same coach, the same club, the same training system, all pointing toward the same goal: Olympic gold. She would succeed. I thought. And I needed to learn to say goodbye to my past life. I needed to believe I had the ability to live in the present, not dwell on yesterday’s regrets. At ten, Lily won first place in the regional competition. Mom posted a grid of nine photos, each one of Lily on the podium, holding the trophy, wearing the medal around her neck, smiling with bright eyes. Dad happened to be home that day. Seeing me with my phone, he casually asked, “What are you looking at?” After Dad finished looking, he didn’t say anything. But after a while, I smelled the aroma of steak drifting from the kitchen. It was my favorite dish. That was just how Dad was. He wouldn’t say “Lily is amazing,” nor would he say “if you want to learn something, I can send you too.” He would just silently cook a dish you loved, stewing all the words he couldn’t speak into the meat. I walked to the kitchen doorway and leaned against the frame, watching him. “Dad,” I said, “I don’t envy Lily.” His hand paused while cutting scallions. “I just think,” I chose my words carefully, “she’s doing well. Really well.” Dad said “Mm” and continued cutting. But I saw his shoulders relax slightly. In the autumn of my tenth year, Dad brought home a woman. It was a Saturday. I sat on the living room sofa reading a book. I heard the door lock turn but didn’t look up, thinking Dad had come back from grocery shopping. He occasionally cooked on weekends—surprisingly well, actually. “This is my daughter.” Dad’s voice sounded tense.

I looked up. The woman stood in the entryway wearing dark gray dress pants and a white blouse with a black trench coat over it. Her hair was pulled back tightly without a single stray strand. Her features weren’t stunning, but the lines were sharp—high cheekbones, eyes slightly upturned at the corners. Her whole presence was like a freshly sharpened blade. Behind her stood a man who looked like a driver, carrying several gift boxes. “Hello.” She looked at me, her voice not loud but every word clear. “I’m a friend of your father’s. My last name is Sullivan. You can call me Ms. Sullivan.” Sullivan. I suddenly remembered—in my past life, Lily mentioned that woman’s surname was Sullivan. She never said the first name, only referring to her as “that Sullivan woman.” This was her. I closed my book, stood up, and smiled slightly. “Hello, Ms. Sullivan.” Ms. Sullivan’s gaze lingered on me for two seconds, then she nodded and said to Dad, “Your daughter has better manners than you.” Dad opened his mouth but couldn’t get words out. I smiled inwardly. Dad in front of Ms. Sullivan was like a cat grabbed by the scruff of its neck—uncomfortable all over. That day, Ms. Sullivan stayed for lunch. She sat at the dining table with her spine perfectly straight, using her fork with extreme precision, only her fingers moving when cutting, her wrist motionless. Dad had made steak. She ate two pieces, then set down her fork and seriously commented, “Very delicious.” Dad’s expression showed a mixture of relief and happiness… it was complicated. I couldn’t help wanting to laugh but held it in, lowering my head to eat. Ms. Sullivan turned to look at me. “Who helps you with your homework normally?” “I do it myself,” I said. “What are your test scores?” “First in the class for math and science, third for English.” She raised an eyebrow, seemingly a bit surprised. Then she glanced at Dad with a look that clearly said: Your luck is pretty good. Dad still couldn’t get words out. After that day, Ms. Sullivan came to the house more and more frequently. At first, she came for weekend meals, then it became three or four times a week. Eventually, her toothbrush appeared in the bathroom cup, her slippers in the shoe cabinet. Dad never formally discussed this with me. He probably didn’t know how to bring it up. In the end, Ms. Sullivan said it herself. That day she came carrying a document folder. She sat across from me and pushed the folder to the middle of the table. “Take a look?” I opened it. Inside was a copy of a property deed with her name on it, bank statements, and a printed A4 sheet with text in a standard font: Victoria Sullivan, female, forty-four years old, unmarried, no children, works in government. “The basic situation is all here,” Ms. Sullivan’s tone was like giving a work report. “I’m together with your father. If you don’t agree, we’ll treat this as if I never brought it up.” I looked at those documents and suddenly felt like laughing. But I knew that in my past life, Lily hadn’t agreed. According to her, she made a huge scene—throwing things, going on a hunger strike, crying in front of Dad for a whole week. Later, Dad and Ms. Sullivan got married anyway, but Lily never accepted her. The two fought openly and secretly for years until Ms. Sullivan and Dad eventually divorced. I actually thought it was fine. Dad had become visibly happier. As long as he was happy, that was good. “Of course I agree,” I said, pushing the folder back and looking into Ms. Sullivan’s eyes. “As long as you two are good together.” Ms. Sullivan paused. Just for a moment, but I caught it. On her perpetually poker face, something extremely faint—something like softness—flickered across. “Mm,” she said, taking back the folder and standing up. “I’m going out to buy groceries. We’ll have fish tonight.” I thought I saw her blush. As she changed shoes at the door, I heard her say quietly, “This child is much better than her father.” I pretended not to hear. The wedding was simple—no big production, just getting the marriage certificate at the courthouse and having dinner with both families. A few relatives from Ms. Sullivan’s side came, all people who didn’t talk much but had powerful presences. They dressed simply but carried an indescribable elegance in their movements. Among them was a boy who looked slightly older than me, maybe fourteen or fifteen.

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During my eight-month pregnancy checkup, the doctor told me that the baby in my belly only had one kidney. Every year since then, I’d take my daughter to the hospital for follow-up examinations. Today I brought her to the hospital as usual. The doctor moved the probe back and forth across both sides of my daughter’s waist. “Both kidneys look fine. No issues.” I suddenly sat up straight, staring at the monitor above the machine. “Doctor, are you sure both kidneys are intact?” The doctor nodded at me again. “Good health is a good thing, isn’t it?” Good health was indeed a good thing, but my daughter was born with only one kidney. Were the kidneys fake, or was the daughter lying on the examination table fake? This couldn’t be wrong. When I was eight months pregnant, the doctor had told me. The child in my belly was missing an organ. As a first-time mother, I was terrified, thinking it might be something vital like the heart or lungs. But the doctor said it was just a missing kidney, which wouldn’t really affect her life that much. Worried I’d be too concerned, the doctor even told me the gender outright. “Girls use less physical strength. Just be a bit careful in daily life.” I thought about how a few years ago, some people were willing to sell a kidney just to buy the latest smartphone. So missing one kidney probably wasn’t a big deal. After my daughter was born, I told her the truth. On one hand, I hoped she would pay more attention to her body. On the other hand, I wanted her to accept this reality from a young age, so she wouldn’t be unable to cope with it when she grew up. “Evelyn, you absolutely cannot tell anyone about the kidney. Only you, Dad, and I know about this.” I often reminded Evelyn that she couldn’t tell even her best friend. She always answered me very seriously. “Don’t worry, Mom. Even if someone offered me a hundred million dollars to talk, I wouldn’t say a word.” I suddenly snapped out of my memories, staring at Evelyn lying on the examination bed. She took the tissue the doctor handed her and wiped her body. “Mom, I told you there’s nothing wrong with my body.” “You just worry too much.” The tone was definitely Evelyn’s, even the way she furrowed her brow was identical. I swallowed hard and asked tentatively. “Evelyn, did you hear what the doctor said? Both kidneys are fine.” Evelyn tossed the tissue into the yellow trash can, then looked up at me. “Mom, my ears are fine. I heard clearly.” “Everyone has two kidneys. Are there people with three kidneys?” She really didn’t know about having only one kidney. But if she wasn’t Evelyn, who could she be? Evelyn turned around, straightening her dress. I stood behind her, watching her every move. Height, build, movements—this was my Evelyn. And the white hairs faintly visible on her head. Everything before my eyes told me she was my daughter. Could the kidney have grown back recently? How could such a strange thing happen? I reached forward and touched the top of Evelyn’s head. “Your white hair is growing back. Find some time to dye it.” Evelyn turned around and touched the spot on her head. “Mom, if you hadn’t reminded me, I would’ve forgotten about this.” “I’ll go after my birthday tomorrow.” She remembered about dyeing her hair, and she remembered tomorrow was her birthday. But how could she forget the most important thing? Back home, I sat on the sofa, pretending to be casual as I asked Evelyn, who was playing on her phone. “Evelyn, do you still remember our biggest secret?” Evelyn quickly put down her phone and moved closer to me, then covered my ear with her hand, letting out a giggling laugh. “Of course I remember.” I clenched my fist. “Then tell me what it is.” Evelyn deliberately pressed her lips together, trying to be mysterious, but seeing my serious expression, she spoke. “Dad has a mistress behind our backs. You told me not to tell anyone.” My body suddenly went limp, and I became even more certain that the person in front of me wasn’t Evelyn. I had indeed warned her not to tell others about her father’s affair, but in truth, the news had long spread among relatives. Our biggest secret was about her body. This Evelyn didn’t know the secret about her body, but seemed to know everything else clearly.

What was going on? Where had the real Evelyn gone? After the Evelyn at home fell asleep, I sat on the sofa, trying to recall recent events. After graduating high school, Evelyn had been accepted into the city’s medical university. Because it was close to home, she basically came home once a month. I would also take her to the hospital for checkups periodically. But this time, she said the school suddenly had an important experimental project she needed to participate in, which would take some time. It had been almost six months since her last visit home. So this checkup had also been delayed. But aside from this, everything else seemed normal. When she came home, she still brought me gifts as always, and shared what was happening at school as usual. I sat on the sofa until dawn. When Evelyn’s bedroom door opened, I suddenly came back to my senses. She was already wearing a brand new, form-fitting athletic outfit. “Mom, did you stay up all night?” “Come on, let’s go for a morning run.” Without giving me a choice, she pulled me toward the door. I did have a habit of morning runs, and every time Evelyn came home, she would wake up early to accompany me. I pulled my wrist free and stood at the entrance. “Mom’s outfit isn’t comfortable for running. I need to go back to my room and change.” Evelyn nodded and waited for me at the door. I changed clothes as quickly as possible and followed her out. She skillfully led me to the park entrance. The track was right in front of us. Evelyn pointed ahead. “Mom, let’s race and see who reaches the finish line first.” As soon as she finished speaking, she ran off without looking back. Even though it was an early autumn morning, a layer of fine sweat broke out on my back. I pinched the webbing between my thumb and index finger hard, signaling myself to calm down. “Who are you really? Where has my Evelyn gone?” Evelyn would accompany me on morning runs, but she had never actually run. She would only follow me on an electric scooter or wait at the finish line. Because I had told her that running was tiring, and with only one kidney, I was afraid vigorous exercise would be too much for her body. The Evelyn before me knew I liked morning runs, but didn’t know the real Evelyn wouldn’t run with me. Seemingly flawless, but actually full of holes. What was her purpose in taking Evelyn’s place and coming home? Could my Evelyn be in danger? At this thought, my heart clenched painfully. When I caught up with Evelyn, she was already sitting on a bench by the roadside, drinking bottled water. “Mom, you’re too slow. Did you slack off on your training while I was away?” I grabbed both sides of my waist, gasping for breath. “I’m getting old. My body can’t keep up anymore.” “Evelyn, what made you want to run with me today? You used to hate running.” Evelyn froze for a moment, her expression showing a flash of shock, then she laughed it off. “Mom, you’re so forgetful. Which day have I come home without running with you?” The smile on my face gradually became twisted, but I didn’t expose her on the spot. After all, I couldn’t be sure the real Evelyn was safe right now. If Evelyn was truly in danger, confronting this impostor would only make things worse for her. That evening was Evelyn’s birthday. I specially went to the bakery to buy a cake. I also made a big table full of dishes. Evelyn stared hungrily at the table. “Mom, these are all my favorites.” I sneered inwardly. These are your favorites, but not my daughter’s. While blowing out the candles, Evelyn clasped her hands together, revealing a diamond bracelet on her wrist. That was what I’d bought her for her eighteenth birthday at great expense. The bracelet was indeed the one I bought. But the diamonds looked like they’d been set in later. My heart jumped. Evelyn must truly be in danger now.

Using the excuse of going downstairs to buy something, I left the house. Evelyn had a best friend named Charlotte. She had visited our home a few times. Right now, I could only contact her. After all, the Evelyn at home had my daughter’s phone and all her personal belongings. Fortunately, Charlotte’s phone number was saved in my phone. I anxiously waited for her to answer. After a ring, a male voice came through. “Hello, what do you need?” This was Charlotte’s phone—why was a man answering? I didn’t immediately ask about Evelyn. “Hello, is this Charlotte? I’m Lisa, Evelyn’s mother.” The person on the other end had a bad attitude, with clear hostility in his tone. “Charlotte went abroad. Stop calling her.” The call was abruptly disconnected before I could ask more. But why wouldn’t she take her phone abroad? Besides, Charlotte’s family was just average, and her grades weren’t outstanding either. Going abroad suddenly didn’t make sense. Could Charlotte and my daughter both be missing? Evelyn’s school wasn’t far away, but it was after hours now, and the school gates had long been closed. After much hesitation, I called Evelyn’s advisor, Professor Watson. “Professor Watson, I wanted to ask about Evelyn Parker’s recent situation at school.” “Evelyn Parker? She took half a month’s leave, saying she had an experiment to do. She hasn’t been back to class in a long time.” Professor Watson’s voice was somewhat hoarse, sounding like he’d just woken up. I immediately gripped my phone tighter. How come I didn’t know about Evelyn taking leave? I continued questioning. “Professor Watson, do you know which laboratory they went to?” There was a long silence before he slowly spoke again. “I heard it was the Singularity Laboratory halfway up the northern mountain.” After hanging up, I looked up at Evelyn’s room window upstairs. The light was dim, but there seemed to be a figure standing behind the curtain. Just as I stood up to look again, the figure had disappeared. Was she monitoring me? When I got home, I packed my things that very night. Opening Evelyn’s room, I found she was already asleep. Worried she might suddenly wake up, I placed a bottle of sleep-inducing aromatherapy by her bedside. I also left a note on the table. “Emergency at work. Mom has to travel for a week. Handle your own meals.” The car started, and I began navigating to the address on my phone. It would take three hours to drive to the Singularity Laboratory. During those three hours, I imagined countless scenarios of Evelyn’s current situation—was she alive, or had she already… If she was just doing experiments in the laboratory, then how could the one at home be explained? Was it just to torment me?

But I knew Evelyn’s personality best. Though she was dependent on me, she would never lie to me, not even a single word. When the car reached the foot of the mountain, it was already 2 AM. I found a flashlight I hadn’t used in a long time from the trunk. Fortunately, it was bright enough to see the path ahead. The mountain path was rugged, but I didn’t feel tired at all. This was a path Evelyn had walked, so I had to walk every step carefully. Two hours later, I reached the place called Singularity Laboratory. Weeds grew wild all around, and the cawing of crows occasionally echoed from the distant sky. I hurried forward and found the door was locked. The lock was covered in rust, as if no one had been here in a long time. Would Evelyn really come to a place like this to do experiments? I held the flashlight in my mouth, then looked around for a stone or something that could break the lock. Just as the light swept over a patch of grass, something shiny reflected back. I rushed over, pulled the weeds apart, and swept the flashlight back and forth over the ground. At the root of the grass, there was a diamond half-buried in dirt. “That’s from Evelyn’s bracelet.” “How did it end up here?” I started talking to myself, unable to control my racing thoughts. Because when Evelyn received that bracelet, she had told me. “Mom, I love this bracelet so much. Unless I die, I’ll never take it off for the rest of my life.” Evelyn never joked. What she said, she would definitely do. A bad feeling arose. Could my Evelyn really have already… I slapped myself several times. She was just doing an experiment. She had just temporarily disappeared. The lock on the door was too big for me to break with my strength alone. The stars began to fade, and an orange glow appeared at the edge of the sky. There was a house not far from the foot of the mountain. Someone seemed to have woken up. I quickly ran down the mountain and walked to the door of that house. It was an old woman in her seventies. She held a sickle in her hand. Seeing me, she looked like she’d seen a rare guest. “Where are you going so early in the morning? You’re not planning to go up the mountain, are you?” I nodded and asked if she could lend me the sickle. Hearing I wanted to go up the mountain, the old woman’s expression suddenly became serious. “I advise you not to go up the mountain. That laboratory was haunted a while back.” “I definitely can’t lend you this sickle.” Haunted? A while back? I carefully recalled the last time Evelyn and I spoke. It seemed to be about half a month ago. She told me she’d been very busy lately and might not have time to call me. During that half month, I only occasionally sent her messages. Evelyn seemed really busy, always replying with just a few brief words. Half a month later, which was yesterday, Evelyn came home. I quickly took out my phone and confirmed with the old woman. “Ma’am, I want to ask when exactly this haunting happened.” “Was it half a month ago?” Though the old woman was in her seventies or eighties, recalling that night’s events still made her lean against the door frame. “It was half a month ago. The sound was so loud—the crying could be heard across several mountains.” While the old woman was speaking, I glanced into her house. I actually saw Evelyn’s backpack on the floor piled with potatoes. I quickly stepped over the threshold, rushed inside, and picked up the backpack. But everything belonging to Evelyn inside was gone, replaced by a backpack full of sprouting potatoes. I gripped the backpack straps, trembling as I looked at the old woman standing in the doorway. “Where did this backpack come from?” “Where are the things that were inside?” “Have you seen a girl named Evelyn Parker?”

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