Category: English

When the earthquake hit, I was trapped under the rubble alongside another woman. “She has a steel rod piercing her chest,” the doctor said, gesturing toward me. “She needs immediate attention, or she won’t make it.” Just as the rescue team was about to rush to me, my husband, Eric Blake, appeared out of nowhere. “Save her first!” he shouted, pointing at the other woman. “She’s pregnant!” I followed his gaze and saw the desperation in his eyes as he looked at her. But he didn’t know—I was pregnant too. The doctor attending to me called out urgently, “She’s losing too much blood! I suspect she has a clotting disorder. If we don’t act now, she won’t make it!” I nodded weakly, my vision blurry, silently begging Eric to choose me. But Eric’s voice was calm, deliberate, and unyielding. “I’m her husband,” he said, pointing at me. “If anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility.” Eric’s words made the rescue team hesitate for a moment, but ultimately, they turned away from me and went to the other woman. After all, with a family member willing to take responsibility, it didn’t matter who they saved first. I lay there on the cold, crumbling ground, my mind spinning with disbelief. Eric’s words echoed over and over in my head. The doctor and nurse working on me exchanged glances and couldn’t hold back their frustration. “Unbelievable,” one muttered. “His wife is critically injured, but he’s prioritizing another woman?” “And that woman doesn’t even look hurt,” the other nurse chimed in. “Just a few scrapes and bruises, but she’s acting like she’s the most injured person here.” “Seven years of marriage, and this is what she gets,” the first one added bitterly. “Her chest is literally impaled, and her husband doesn’t even blink an eye.” Their words cut deeper than the wound in my chest. I turned my head slightly and saw Eric cradling the other woman—her name was Lauren. His hands were trembling as he held her close, his face full of worry, guilt, and tenderness. It was a side of him I had never seen in all our years together. Not once, in seven years of marriage, had he ever looked at me like that. He wasn’t heartless. His heart just didn’t belong to me. It belonged entirely to Lauren. As my body grew colder, I realized I was losing the strength to hold on. If something didn’t change soon, I wouldn’t just lose my life—I’d lose my baby too. Summoning every ounce of energy I had left, I grabbed the nurse’s hand, my voice trembling. “Please,” I begged, “save me. I’m pregnant too…” Before the nurse could respond, Eric walked over, still holding Lauren in his arms. When he heard my words, his face twisted with disgust. “Even now,” he sneered, “you’re still trying to manipulate me with your little sob stories. How pathetic.” His words hit me like a slap. “You’re lying,” he continued coldly. “You’re just saying that to compete with Lauren. She’s the one who’s actually pregnant.” He turned to the doctor with a sharp tone. “Don’t waste your time on her. She’s perfectly fine. Check on Lauren instead—she needs a full examination.” I couldn’t fight anymore. My grip on the nurse’s hand loosened, and my vision dimmed. The nurse screamed, “She’s crashing! We’re losing her!” But Eric didn’t even glance my way. “I told you,” he snapped, “if anything happens, I’ll take responsibility. She’s just faking it. Focus on Lauren—she’s the priority here!” The doctor hesitated but ultimately followed Eric’s orders, leaving me behind to check on Lauren. Only the young nurse stayed by my side, her hand gripping mine tightly. “Hang on,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “We’re going to save you. I promise.” I tried to stay awake, but the pain was unbearable. Warm blood was seeping out of me, and no one seemed to care. As my tears fell silently, I had one last thought before slipping into unconsciousness: How could this hurt so much? Seven years of marriage, and when it came down to life or death, he didn’t even hesitate to choose someone else. I woke up in the ER, the blinding white light above me making me squint. “Hey,” a soft voice said. It was the young nurse who had stayed with me. Her eyes were red, and her voice wavered as she spoke. “You’re awake,” she said, relief flooding her face. “Thank God.” She hesitated, biting her lip before continuing. “Do you have another family member we can contact? We need someone to sign the anesthesia consent form.” I stared at her, confused. “We’ve been calling your husband,” she explained, “but he’s not answering.” My chest tightened. Of course, Eric wasn’t answering. He was probably too busy taking care of Lauren to even think about me. “It’s fine,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I’ll sign it myself.” The nurse looked at me with pity as I shakily scribbled my name on the form. As the pain threatened to pull me under again, I heard the faint murmur of voices from the staff around me. “Marriage really is a gamble, isn’t it?” one of them said. “Look at the guy with the pregnant woman—he’s treating her like she’s made of glass.” “Yeah,” another agreed. “And then there’s this poor woman. She’s on death’s door, and her husband’s nowhere to be found.”

The young nurse’s voice was uneasy, and when she noticed the whispered remarks from the other medical staff, she quickly interrupted, worried I’d overhear. “Please, stop talking!” she snapped. But I wasn’t upset. In fact, I almost wanted to laugh. What would they think if they knew the man they called a “good husband” had abandoned his wife and unborn child to fawn over another woman? None of it mattered anymore. The only thing I cared about now was saving my baby. As the anesthesia began to flow through my veins, I caught the nurse’s gaze and whispered weakly: “My baby…” But before I could say another word, the darkness swallowed me whole. When I opened my eyes again, the sharp smell of disinfectant filled my nose. The lingering effects of the anesthesia made my limbs feel heavy, but the first thing I did was lift a trembling hand to my stomach. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?” The young nurse, now standing in the doorway, let out a sigh of relief when she saw me stir. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she stepped closer, pulling the blanket snugly around me. “Don’t worry,” she said gently. “The baby is safe.” Hearing those words, I exhaled deeply, my heart easing for the first time in what felt like an eternity. But the nurse wasn’t finished. She pouted, her tone tinged with frustration as she continued. “Still… I don’t understand. Your husband treats you like this, but even when your life was on the line, all you cared about was his child. Is it really worth it?” I forced a weak smile, one that barely reached my eyes. “The baby is innocent,” I murmured. “At least they deserve a chance.” The nurse paused, her expression softening with sympathy. She nodded slowly, though her pity was clear in her eyes. Without saying more, she told me to rest and left the room. I tried to let sleep claim me again, my body heavy with exhaustion. But just as my eyes fluttered shut, muffled voices drifted in from the room next door. The voices were unmistakable. “Eric, it hurts so much,” a woman whimpered. “Lauren, I’m right here,” Eric replied in a voice so soft, so tender, that it sent a chill through me. My lashes trembled. I stared blankly at the ceiling, my chest tightening. “Eric… the baby…” Lauren continued, her voice laced with fragility. “Don’t worry,” Eric soothed her. “I’m here. The baby’s fine. I won’t let anything happen to you or the baby.” His tone was filled with a warmth I had never heard before—a patience and care he had never once shown me. “Shouldn’t you check on her?” Lauren asked hesitantly. “Your wife… she seemed really badly hurt.” And just like that, the warmth in Eric’s voice disappeared. “Why should you care about her?” he snapped. “You’re too kind, Lauren. That woman is manipulative and cruel. She even tried to lie about being pregnant just to steal resources from you. Someone like that… if she dies, it’s what she deserves.” My mind went blank, and before I could stop them, tears spilled from my eyes. The steel rod that had pierced my chest didn’t hurt nearly as much as the words Eric had just said. I couldn’t listen anymore. I forced my eyes shut, trying to block out the pain. When my condition stabilized, they moved me to a standard recovery room. I decided to call the housekeeper, Mary, to help take care of me. The phone rang for a long time with no answer. Just as I was about to hang up, the door creaked open. Mary walked in, carrying a food container. Our eyes met, and I immediately noticed the awkwardness in her expression. She looked startled and unsure, like she had walked into the wrong room. “Mary,” I said slowly, setting my phone aside. “Why didn’t you answer my call?” She hesitated, gripping the container tightly behind her back. “I… I’m here because Mr. Blake asked me to come,” she stammered. I let out a bitter laugh, though I wasn’t surprised. Of course Eric had sent her. If he could insist on saving Lauren during the earthquake, it was no stretch to think he’d send the housekeeper to care for her afterward. I cleared my throat and smiled faintly at Mary. “Well, since you’re here, why don’t you take me for a walk?” Mary hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, pushing a wheelchair toward me. We stopped in front of Lauren’s room. Inside, I saw her lying on the hospital bed. She was young and beautiful, with flawless porcelain skin and delicate features. Her arched eyebrows framed a pair of clear, innocent eyes. When she noticed me, she didn’t look surprised. Instead, she regarded me with a calm, almost entitled expression. “Mary, who is this?” Lauren asked, her voice soft but filled with authority. I didn’t answer. I just stared at her in silence. Mary fidgeted nervously before clearing her throat. “She… she’s Mr. Blake’s wife,” Mary said, her voice barely above a whisper. Lauren’s expression shifted instantly. She put on an exaggerated look of pity, her voice turning saccharine. “Oh, so you’re Eric’s wife,” she said, emphasizing the word wife with a pointed sweetness. “Please don’t blame Eric,” she continued, her eyes brimming with fake remorse. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t gotten hurt… if I hadn’t been pregnant… Eric would never have left you to take care of me.” Her words dripped with mock humility, but I could hear the triumph hidden beneath her tone. I chuckled coldly. “Eric has terrible taste,” I said plainly. “If he likes you so much, he can have you. A man like that isn’t worth keeping.” I turned my wheelchair to leave, but before I could get far, I felt a sudden, violent shove from behind. The wheelchair slammed into the bedside table, and I was thrown to the ground. Pain shot through my body like fire, leaving me gasping. Mary rushed to help me, her face pale with panic. “Are you okay?” she cried, trying to lift me back into the chair. Behind me, Lauren’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “Oh no, I’m so sorry,” she said, her tone dripping with insincerity. “I didn’t mean to push you. I just got so anxious—I didn’t want you to misunderstand me and Eric.” Her words barely registered. A warm, wet sensation spread between my legs, and when I looked down, I saw blood staining my hospital gown. Lauren let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh no, she’s bleeding! Someone help! We need a doctor!” Her voice was filled with panic, but as our eyes met, I caught a fleeting glimmer of satisfaction in her gaze. They rushed me into the operating room, but this time, luck didn’t save me. When I woke up, my baby was gone. Eric was sitting beside the bed, his expression dark and brooding. For a brief moment, I thought he had finally realized what had happened. But his first words shattered that hope. “You shouldn’t have gone to see Lauren.” “What?” I whispered, staring at him in disbelief. Eric’s tone was cold and accusatory. “You brought this on yourself,” he said flatly. “If you’d just stayed in your room and left Lauren alone, none of this would’ve happened.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I fought back tears. He didn’t even know about the baby. And he never would. Reaching into his pocket, Eric pulled out a pair of earrings and placed them on the bedside table. “What’s this?” I asked, my voice hollow. “It’s for you,” he said, clearing his throat. I recognized the earrings immediately. They were a pair I had once begged him to buy. Back then, he’d scolded me, saying a married woman shouldn’t waste money on frivolous things like jewelry. So why now? Eric’s next words answered my question. “There’s been a lot of media attention on the earthquake,” he said carefully. “And?” “And… reporters are coming to the hospital tomorrow. I need you to let Lauren take your place for the interview. She’ll pretend to be my wife.” Chapter 4 Eric’s shameless words disgusted me to the core. I couldn’t hold back and asked coldly, “And how exactly am I supposed to ‘let’ someone else be me?” Eric glanced at me, his tone calm, as if he’d already planned everything. “I’ve already taken care of it. The medical records have been swapped. No one will ever find out.” I stayed silent. Seeing my lack of response, Eric softened his voice, mistaking my silence for hesitation. “I know you’ve always wanted a child. Once you recover, we’ll have another one. I promise.” He leaned in slightly, his tone almost coaxing. “You know, my company is about to go public. This kind of publicity is exactly what we need to solidify its reputation. And with Lauren being a public figure, her involvement will draw even more attention.” He paused, as if delivering the final pitch of a business deal. “If we handle this right, it’ll be a win-win for all of us. This is for the greater good.” I couldn’t help but laugh—cold and bitter. Of course, even now, Eric’s only thoughts were for Lauren and himself. Not once, not for a single moment, had he considered me. “Fine,” I said flatly, nodding without hesitation. Relief washed over his face as he grabbed my hand, his voice suddenly filled with faux affection. “Thank you for understanding. We’re in this together, aren’t we? When I succeed, you’ll benefit too.” He stood up, patting my hand like a business partner sealing a deal. “Get some rest. I’ll check on you later.” But the irony was, he never came back. By the morning of the interview, Eric hadn’t visited once. Through some inquiries, I found out the press conference was being held in the hospital’s main hall. Ignoring the pain coursing through my still-healing body, I dragged myself there, timing my arrival perfectly. When I reached the crowded hall, reporters had already packed the space, their cameras clicking nonstop. Through the sea of people, I spotted Eric immediately. He was standing beside Lauren, who sat demurely in a wheelchair. Lauren had dressed herself to look as if she’d barely survived the disaster—her face pale, her arm in a sling, and a thin blanket draped over her lap. Eric stood behind her, his hands resting protectively on the wheelchair handles. They looked every bit the perfect, loving couple. Reporters swarmed them, microphones thrust forward as questions flew. “Ms. Hayes,” one reporter asked, “you’ve been through so much. Who would you say you’re most grateful to for surviving this ordeal?” Lauren gave a faint, angelic smile, her voice soft and delicate. “I want to thank the doctors who saved me. Without their incredible efforts, neither I nor my baby would be here today.” She paused strategically, her hand brushing over her stomach, before continuing: “But most of all, I want to thank my partner. During those life-and-death moments, his unwavering support gave me the strength to hold on.” The crowd erupted into applause, voices rising in admiration. “How inspiring! Your love must have only grown stronger through this experience.” “Absolutely. With so many families torn apart by the earthquake, it’s a miracle that the three of you made it out alive. You’re truly blessed.” Another reporter turned to Eric, their voice brimming with praise. “Mr. Blake, not only are you a successful businessman, but you’re also a devoted husband. You’re an inspiration to men everywhere. Do you have any advice for others on how to balance work and love so perfectly?” Eric, ever the performer, bent slightly toward the microphone. He looked down at Lauren with a gaze so tender it made me sick to my stomach. He cleared his throat, preparing to deliver yet another well-rehearsed line. But before he could say a word, I stepped forward. Pushing through the crowd, I walked directly toward him, clutching the item I had brought with me. The room fell silent as I approached, my every step echoing in the tense air. And then, without hesitation— SLAP! The sound of my palm striking Eric’s face echoed through the hall. He stumbled back, nearly losing his balance, his hand flying to his cheek in shock. The room erupted into chaos. Reporters gasped, their cameras whirring as they turned to capture the scene. “Lydia, what the hell are you doing?!” Eric shouted, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief. But I didn’t look at him. My gaze was locked on Lauren, who stared at me wide-eyed, frozen in her wheelchair. I pointed directly at her, my voice sharp and unyielding. “She’s your wife?” I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Then who am I? Did you ever stop to think about our child?” Eric’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Before he could respond, I reached into my arms and tore away the black cloth I’d been holding. Gasps filled the room as I revealed the small, square box underneath. It was a child’s urn.

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That summer when I was 18, Ryan took my virginity. I endured the pain, but secretly felt happy all night long, thinking my six years of secret love had finally come to fruition. Until the next day, when I overheard his friends teasing him: “Not bad, you scored with the class beauty.” I felt embarrassed and was about to quietly leave. Then I heard Ryan’s casual reply: “I want to pursue the school beauty, but I’m afraid she’ll think I’m too inexperienced. “So I’m using Mia to practice my skills first.” I didn’t say anything. At the last moment before the deadline, I silently changed my college application from New York to Florida. Ryan’s words hit me like a bolt from the blue, completely catching me off guard. My mind went blank instantly. On such a hot summer afternoon, I felt chills all over my body. The conversation in the classroom continued. The others seemed stunned for a moment before speaking again. “As expected of Ryan, even the class beauty is just practice for him.” “Doesn’t that make her like, you know, a maid for ‘special services’ in those old wealthy families?” Ryan laughed carelessly: “Don’t talk nonsense. It’s not like she’s losing out.” Someone immediately agreed. “That’s right, the class beauty has gotten a bit thin. Compared to the school beauty, her figure is…” Ryan irritably threw a book at him, interrupting his comment. “It was just a moment of impulse. The mood was right, and she seemed to be struggling to hold back too…” The others exchanged knowing looks and teased him: “Who would’ve thought the class beauty was the sultry type.” “Tsk tsk, it’s our Ryan’s irresistible charm. Might as well eat the meat right in front of you.” “The class beauty has been chasing after Ryan for so many years. I guess she finally got her wish. She probably wanted to jump him long ago.” The laughter in the room grew noticeably louder. I bit my lip hard, my hands clenched into tight fists. It took all my strength to keep steady and not collapse at the classroom door. Footsteps approached from the end of the hallway. I snapped back to my senses and fled the scene in a panic. In my confusion, I hid in a bathroom stall.

Tears of heartbreak and humiliation were already flowing freely. Ryan’s words echoed in my mind over and over, nearly destroying all of my self-esteem. If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I never would have believed that he was the same person who had been so passionately intimate with me just last night. So it turns out you can do such intimate things even without love. Even in the most passionate, irrational moments, it’s possible to lie and deceive. What I foolishly thought was the culmination of our relationship was nothing more than a joke to others. The more I cried, the more upset I became. But I didn’t dare make any loud sounds. My body kept shaking uncontrollably. After a long while. My phone buzzed with a message notification. It was from Ryan. [Take a cab home yourself. My class is having a party tonight, so it’s not convenient for me to take you.] I didn’t reply. He added another message. [Remember to buy the morning-after pill yourself. I’m too busy today. Make sure to take it, be good.] I stared at these two messages for a long time, speechless. Last night, from dusk till dawn, Ryan had worn me out over and over again. Before falling asleep exhausted in each other’s arms, he had whispered twice: “I wasn’t fully prepared for our first time. I’ll definitely buy you the pill tomorrow.” He even reminded me that girls need to protect themselves, and that I must take the morning-after pill or it could be very harmful to my body. At the time, I thought he was being so responsible towards me. I thought I had finally found my happiness. But now… In an instant, I sobered up considerably. I pinched my palm hard, forcing myself to stop crying. I wiped away my tears, composed myself, and left the bathroom. Too embarrassed to go to the pharmacy, I just ordered the pill online. After the delivery driver left it at the door, I waited a long time before I dared to sneak out and retrieve it. After swallowing the pill with tears in my eyes, I seemed to lose all my strength. I just sat numbly on the carpet, staring blankly. Ever since Ryan’s family moved in next door, I had followed him around like a little puppy for ten years. I had never imagined what a world without him would be like. I didn’t dare to imagine it. But from now on, I would be alone. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, lights came on one after another, then gradually went out. I don’t know how much time passed before my best friend Lily video called me. “Mia, why didn’t you come to our class party with Ryan tonight? “That Claire from the liberal arts class showed up instead. She’s been clinging to Ryan while you’re not here. The two of them are being so gross.” Lily turned the camera to show me.

In a dark corner of the private room, Ryan and Claire, the school beauty, were sitting very close together. Claire was wearing a crop top and tight jeans tonight, showing off her slim waist and long legs. The two of them were clearly separated from the rest of the group. Even when they talked, it looked like they were whispering sweet nothings to each other. The flirtatious atmosphere was palpable even through the screen. My chest tightened uncontrollably. Ryan had just said this afternoon that he wanted to pursue her. It seems he had already succeeded by evening. Claire drew a “Truth or Dare” card that required her to do push-ups with a guy on top. She had to choose a male participant. Unsurprisingly, Ryan immediately volunteered. Everyone started cheering and teasing them. Claire’s face turned red as she obediently lay down on the sofa. Ryan positioned himself above her and easily did dozens of push-ups. He was very restrained the whole time, carefully avoiding touching Claire’s body. Until the very last one, whether he finally lost his strength or did it on purpose. He couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed directly on top of Claire. The screams around them grew even louder, nearly taking the roof off. Ryan and Claire’s faces turned even redder. Amid the crowd’s frenzied cheering, Ryan simply lowered his head and kissed Claire. The two of them made out passionately, oblivious to everyone else. It went on for a full three minutes before they reluctantly separated. During those endless three minutes, I stared at the screen unblinkingly, so shocked I almost forgot to breathe. My heart felt like it was being torn apart. I wanted to cry, but I had cried too much earlier without drinking water, so I had no tears left. “Tsk tsk tsk, Mia did you see that clearly? They were French kissing with tongue and everything. He’s totally into her.” Lily sighed as she turned the camera and left the private room. She found a quiet corner and earnestly advised me: “Mia, don’t blame me. If I didn’t let you see it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t give up on him.” My throat was dry and the sounds I made were barely audible. “Mm, I don’t blame you.” I only blame myself for being so stupid for so many years. I thought that since I was always allowed to follow Ryan around, that position by his side would always be mine. “I just can’t stand Ryan. What gives him the right to string you along for years, knowing you like him, pretending to be an innocent boy while watching you fall deeper and deeper. “Now you’ve seen it clearly. I really hope you’ll seriously reconsider. Don’t let him waste another four years of your life in college…” “I won’t, Lily.” I interrupted her, stating calmly. “I won’t give myself another chance. “Lily, I’ve decided. I’m going to college in Florida with you. “But you have to promise to keep it a secret for now.”

After saying that, to prevent myself from hesitating again, I opened my laptop in front of her. Without any hesitation, at the last minute before the deadline, I changed my first choice to that famous university in Florida. Lily was of course overjoyed. She had been begging me to apply to the same school for a long time. But when we first started high school, I had already made a promise with Ryan that we would work hard together and go to his dream school in New York after the SATs. That’s where his favorite aerospace program was. So even though I didn’t particularly like the cold North, and didn’t have much interest in that engineering-focused school, for all three years of high school, I still made it my goal. After being neighbors for so many years, both sets of parents were happy for us to go to the same college. Everyone, including me, thought that Ryan and I would naturally become a couple after we became adults. But now, I couldn’t find any reason to go to New York anymore. Or rather, after today, if I still clung to Ryan like before. I would despise myself. Now I just wanted to hide far away. It didn’t matter where, as long as Ryan wasn’t there. If he was in the North, then I would go South.

Before bed, I filled the entire bathtub, wanting to thoroughly wash myself clean. But when I took off my clothes, the bruises on my skin were still very visible. Memories of last night came flooding back uncontrollably. The scorching heat of the young man’s skin as we embraced tightly, the burning breath in my ear as we made love, the lingering warmth still seemed to surround me. I shook my head vigorously, trying to get rid of these wild thoughts. I found the roughest loofah and scrubbed my skin over and over again, only stopping when my whole body turned red. Clumsily trying to erase this most shameful memory of my life. As a result, I was in so much pain that I couldn’t sleep well all night. Ryan indeed didn’t send any more messages. Breaking the habit we’d had for six years, ever since we got phones, of saying goodnight to each other without fail. This was for the best. It would have happened sooner or later anyway. Might as well start detoxing from tonight. I dozed off fitfully until nearly dawn. The next morning while I was still sound asleep, I suddenly felt someone plant a light kiss on my forehead in my dream.

I woke up with a start. But what I saw when I opened my eyes was a familiar chin and Adam’s apple. The scent enveloping me from above was Ryan’s favorite cedar fragrance, along with a faint, unfamiliar hint of lemon. I had almost forgotten, Ryan still knew the passcode to my front door. Seeing that I was awake, Ryan simply moved lower, chuckling as he tried to kiss my lips. I hurriedly turned my head to avoid it. I pushed him away and retreated to the other side of the bed. Ryan was stunned for a moment, then laughed at me: “Why so shy now? Hmm?” I didn’t say anything, just pulled the covers over my head. Ryan scolded me while trying to pull off my blanket. “Mia, you’ve gotten bold, huh? You didn’t even say goodnight to me last night, and you dared to turn off your phone and go to sleep. “Now you’re hiding from me?” He deftly slipped under my covers. Before I could react, he had wrapped me in his arms. “Be good, how many times have I told you not to skip breakfast. “I went for a 30-minute run specially to get you those crab roe buns you love. I queued for ages. “Do you want to get up and eat now, or do you want to… be eaten first…” His breath was very close to me, and his hands started roaming. Fully awake now, I struggled desperately. But at 5’3″, I was no match for a 6’2″ man. I really couldn’t understand what he was thinking. He already had Claire, why was he still messing with me? After struggling hard for a while, I was panting heavily. I hadn’t broken free, but was held even tighter. “What are you throwing a tantrum about now? “Are you angry? Just because I didn’t take you to the party last night? Such a trivial thing?” I didn’t say anything. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, laughing out loud. “Let me guess, your good friend Lily tattled to you? “It was just a game, is that worth being jealous over? “Why are you still like before, getting all sulky whenever I get a little close to other girls.” I was furious beyond words, with no idea where to even begin. Remembering what I learned during freshman orientation, I suddenly raised my knee and kicked him between the legs, then quickly ran off the bed while he was in pain. “Mia!” Ryan gritted his teeth, his face turning red. I hurriedly threw on a shirt over my pajamas and rushed to the living room. I didn’t want to be in the same room as him, especially not my bedroom. Not long after, Ryan also came out, looking both angry and helpless. After a long while, he seemed to suddenly remember something and casually asked: “By the way, you took the pill yesterday, right?” “Don’t cause any trouble. We can’t explain it to our parents.” Ryan walked to the dining table and picked up a soy milk, handing it to me. “Be good, eat something before you get angry. Your stomach isn’t great to begin with.” I didn’t say anything, nor did I take it. Ryan’s hand holding the soy milk hovered in the air for a long time before he finally lost patience. “What exactly is the matter? “Mia, even if you’re throwing a tantrum, there should be a reason and a limit, right?” I coldly replied: “I’m not worthy.” Ryan got angry too, slamming the soy milk down hard on the coffee table. He used too much force. The plastic cup cracked and all the soy milk instantly spilled onto the carpet. “What do you mean? “Who do you think you are, Mia? “We just slept together once by mutual consent, and now you want to control me? Don’t you know how suffocating that is?” His tone was unprecedentedly fierce. In an instant, tears streamed down my face without any buildup. Yesterday’s humiliation and grievances all came rushing back. Ryan seemed unprepared for my sudden intense crying and was at a loss for what to do. He apologized regretfully: “I’m sorry, I drank too much last night. I spoke impulsively just now.” Ryan crouched down beside me as he spoke, reaching out to wipe away my tears, but I dodged him again. He was stunned, his hand frozen in midair. Just as he was about to continue comforting me, his phone suddenly rang. He glanced at it once, his expression changing drastically. He immediately got up to leave. “I have an urgent matter to attend to. Calm down by yourself first. “We’re in college now. You can’t always act like a child. Who else could put up with that in the future?”

Less than half an hour after he left, Lily sent me a screenshot. It was Claire’s social media post. [Claire: Just said I was hungry, and a loving breakfast magically appeared! Feels like my crush and I are moving towards each other~] The photo showed packaging identical to the crab roe buns on my dining table. I didn’t reply. I just silently wiped away my tears and crouched down to carefully clean up the soy milk Ryan had spilled. After trying for a long time, I sadly discovered that the stain had seeped deep into the wool carpet and couldn’t be removed no matter what. In a fit of anger, I simply threw out the entire carpet. It was the one Ryan and his parents had carefully chosen and carried back for me after an entire afternoon of shopping during their trip to Nepal anyway. While I was at it, I gathered up all of Ryan’s things left at my place, as well as all the big and small gifts he had ever given me. I even collected all our photos together. It took me all day to pack everything up and throw it away. I guess he wouldn’t want these old things anymore either. After Ryan left that day, there was no news from him for several days in a row. I suppose things were going well with the school beauty. Or maybe he was waiting for me to give in first. In the past, I had always been the one to make up first after every cold war, without exception. But this time I didn’t reach out to him. There was no need to reach out anymore. I blocked his SnapChat and phone number, changed my home’s door passcode, and deleted all my social media accounts. After doing all this, I called my parents who were away on business trips. I told them I wanted to visit my aunt in America during the summer break. My plan was to spend the summer there, then go straight down south with Lily to start college when the break was over. Except for Lily, no one else knew I had applied to a school in Florida. This plan should perfectly avoid any chance of running into Ryan. Mom still teased me on the phone, “Oh my, are you and Ryan going on vacation together?” I made up an excuse to deny it, not wanting to explain too much. I just told her I wanted to spend time with my aunt and grandmother. I begged Dad to buy me a ticket on the soonest flight. I was planning to fly out that very night. As I was leaving, I unfortunately ran into Ryan’s mom at the entrance of our building. She warmly greeted me: “Mia, why are you alone here? Didn’t Ryan come to pick you up? “Didn’t he say he was taking you skiing in New Zealand? Go and have a great time, Auntie fully supports you two.” I was a bit confused. During our intense SAT prep period, I had indeed mentioned to Ryan that I wanted to go skiing in New Zealand to experience winter in the Southern Hemisphere. But given our current situation, how could we possibly go on a trip together? However, I was running out of time, so I just hastily made some vague replies before leaving. But what I didn’t expect was that at the airport, I actually ran into Ryan.

He was with a group of friends. Claire was there too. Ryan was carrying a woman’s handbag in one hand, his other arm around Claire’s waist. They were walking at the back of the group. From time to time Claire would turn her head to say something to him, and Ryan would always cooperate, patiently bending down to listen. Not like with me. Ryan had always been a head taller than me since we were kids, and he kept getting taller. When I was with him, I always had to jump up and down and lift my head to talk to him. It turns out he will lower his head for someone he truly cares about. I took a deep breath. Telling myself I must have some dignity. Whatever he does has nothing to do with me anymore. If I keep overthinking, I’ll slap myself. But there seemed to be only one path to the departure gates. I could only follow far behind them. Finally, we reached a fork in the path. Ryan seemed to be getting a bit distracted. He made several phone calls that didn’t go through, then fiddled with his phone for a while. In the end, he borrowed a friend’s phone and walked to a nearby restroom with a gloomy expression. Not long after, my phone suddenly rang. It was an unknown number. “Mia, you’re really angry this time, huh? You won’t reach out to me unless I contact you first? “You even blocked me? “If you have the guts, then just keep not contacting me. Let’s see who will take care of you when you’re all alone in an unfamiliar place in New York.” Ryan’s tone was harsh as he berated me nonstop. I didn’t say anything. There was really no way to respond to that. But Ryan seemed to get even angrier. “I won’t say much more. Hurry up and add me back on SnapChat. “I’m about to go abroad with some friends for a couple days, so I might not be reachable by phone. Don’t worry and cry.”

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In my previous life, my dad disappeared mysteriously after going mountain climbing, but we found a suicide note he’d left in a drawer beforehand. He claimed he was bankrupt, depressed, and had let Mom and me down, so he ended his life on the mountain. The police found Dad’s clothes and bloodstains at the foot of a cliff. Mom blamed herself, thinking she’d driven Dad to his death, and fell into a deep depression. It wasn’t until I had to take a part-time job as a food delivery driver to pay off Dad’s debts that I discovered the owner of a luxurious mansion had the same ordering habits as my deceased father. I started investigating and found that the mansion was occupied by my supposedly dead father and his soulmate. My father noticed my investigation, and to keep the truth hidden, he brutally murdered Mom and me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Dad said he was going mountain climbing. I smirked. Since you’re so eager to die, I’ll help you on your way. In the darkness, the sound of running water in the bathroom was unusually clear. The man in the shower was humming a tune, his mood far too cheerful for someone about to end his life. I tiptoed over to his freshly packed bag and immediately spotted the plastic bag containing the bloodstained clothes. This was it. Today was the day. In my previous life, my father, Richard Grant, had deliberately sent Mom and me away, left a suicide note, and faked his death by jumping off a cliff. After he went missing, the police found the bloodstained clothes at the foot of the mountain and concluded he “couldn’t have survived.” When Grandma heard this “terrible news,” she slapped Mom ten times with her wrinkled hands. “You two women drove my son to his death!” she screeched. “If it weren’t for you, you vain woman, my son wouldn’t have needed to start a company. He went bankrupt and couldn’t even tell you, so he had to go and die in secret…” The suicide note was full of Dad’s heartache and love for us, with only a brief mention of the astronomical debts he owed at the end. When Mom learned the truth, she was devastated. For the rest of her life, she lived in a cycle of debt repayment and self-blame. As for my grandmother, who was supposed to be “outliving her own child,” she had already secretly claimed a huge insurance payout and was traveling the world. A few years later, I accidentally discovered the truth about Dad’s fake death. It turned out that the luxurious mansion I often delivered food to was home to my father, who should have been long dead! He and his soulmate, Rose Simmons, already had a child together and were living an idyllic life in their 10,000-square-foot home. After staking out the place a few times, I even saw my grandmother, who would often come to our house crying poverty and begging for money! Unfortunately, they discovered me during my quest for the truth. At Rose’s urging, my biological father, Richard Grant, stabbed me twenty-one times. “I brought you into this world, so it’s only fitting that I send you out,” he said. As I lay bleeding and in agony, I was reborn, back to the day before my dad’s departure.

Quickly piecing together my memories from my past life, I was determined not to let my dad succeed this time. After his shower, thinking no one was home, Dad made a phone call without any attempt to hide his words. “Don’t worry, Rose. By dawn, we’ll be together forever.” “The money’s being processed. We just need to wait three more days for it all to be laundered and transferred to our account.” “I know Wendy’s personality best. Even her daughter knows she’s a love-struck fool. Once I get my mom to put on a crying act, she’ll definitely shoulder all the debts herself…” As a husband intent on squeezing every last penny from his wife, Richard Grant knew my mom inside out. For over a decade, he’d been the pinnacle of a loving husband and father on social media! Initially, everyone who doubted him for marrying above his social status gradually changed their minds. In my previous life, after the suicide note was discovered, many people even consoled Mom. They said Dad wasn’t a bad person at heart, just unlucky. Who could have imagined he would fake his own death to commit insurance fraud with a fortune in tow? As dawn broke, I heard Dad’s footsteps in the living room. It seemed he was eager to leave. After the door slammed shut, I emerged from my hiding place in the storage room and headed straight for the study. In the open drawer lay the freshly written suicide note, the ink still glistening. The contents were etched in my memory. “My beloved Wendy, this is the last love letter I’ll ever write to you. It’s my fault that I couldn’t give you the life you deserved, even after trying my hardest. Meeting you used up all my luck in this world.” “The company’s situation is dire, and I can no longer sustain it. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. The only way out now is death.” “Please don’t grieve after I’m gone. All I ask is that you take care of my mother. We’ve been alone for so long, and it hasn’t been easy. Even as a spirit in another world, I’ll watch over you and our daughter. Your departed husband, Richard.” The back of the note was covered in bills. Just a few of those numbers added up would be enough to crush our mother-daughter duo for the rest of our lives. In my previous life, this suicide note was “accidentally” discovered by my grandmother. At the time, despite being barely literate, she immediately recognized what was inside and read it aloud in front of everyone. Every word dripped with false sentiment, but the countless unpaid bills were a harsh reality. Mom was already dazed from Grandma’s beating at that point. Looking back now, it was full of holes. With a loud rip, I tore the absurd paper to shreds. I opened the laptop in the study and found Dad’s company email. I easily logged in using a combination of Rose’s birthday. If it’s a suicide note he wants, I can write one too. In the email, I composed a new suicide note in Dad’s voice, pouring out his heart. I detailed how he had driven the company to bankruptcy and his plans to fake his death and run away. I confessed all the methods of his scheme in crystal clear detail. At the end, I made sure to express his earth-shattering love for Rose Simmons, his secretary and lover. “My darling Rose, don’t worry. The secret overseas account will contact you soon. Even if the whole company has to go down with me, I won’t let you suffer a single day of hardship.” The true recipient of this suicide note shouldn’t be my mom. Feeling satisfied with my handiwork, I hit the send button to all 305 contacts. The outbox instantly filled with countless records. Outside, the sky had fully brightened, and I received a message from the hiker I’d asked to keep watch. The short video showed Dad taking out the bloodstained clothes from the plastic bag, meticulously staging his own death scene. Through the screen, I watched everything with a cold smirk. “Oh, Dad, why rush to die when your grand love affair hasn’t even been witnessed by the world yet?”

When the police came to the door, I deliberately sent Mom away and answered it myself. “Hello, are you Richard Grant’s family?” one officer asked. “We received a report that he’s been missing for over twenty-four hours. We’re here to gather some information.” “That’s impossible, officer. My dad is on a business trip in New York. How could he be missing?” I replied calmly. “Are you sure he went on a business trip?” the officer pressed. Facing the police inquiry, I explained with composure. “Of course. My dad told us himself the night before last. Let me call my mom; she should still have the voice message Dad sent on her phone.” “By the way, officer, who reported this?” The two policemen glanced at their body cameras and exchanged looks. “Um, the reporter’s name is Rose Simmons. She said she’s the company secretary.” Things were starting to get interesting. Just then, the elevator doors behind us opened. “Wendy Curtis, you poisonous woman! Give me back my son’s life!” my grandmother shouted before she even saw our faces. Behind her were a bunch of relatives, all trying to squeeze in with an intimidating air. Her small, frail body swung a cane, aiming for my head. “Ava, who are you talking to at the door? Why haven’t you come in yet?” Mom called out, finally drawn by the commotion. Sharp-eyed, I quickly pulled Mom down to duck, and the tall police officer swiftly caught the cane. “Hey, why are you swinging that as soon as you arrive? Who are you people?” the officer demanded. “I’m her mother-in-law. She killed my son, so I have every right to hit her!” Grandma retorted self-righteously. The police were clearly displeased with Grandma’s words. “Ma’am, we live in a society governed by law. Even if you’re her mother-in-law, you can’t just hit people.” “Besides, the report we received only mentioned a missing person. How are you so certain your son is dead?” The atmosphere in the hallway suddenly shifted. Mom, still unaware of the truth, looked completely bewildered. I briefly explained to her about Dad being reported missing, and Mom immediately lost her composure. She took out her phone, about to try calling Dad, when Grandma snatched it away. “Stop pretending! My son must have been driven to his death by you,” Grandma accused. “Mom, what are you talking about? Richard told us himself he was going on a business trip to New York. Why do you insist he’s dead?” Mom snapped back, grabbing her phone. She found Dad’s voice message and played it for everyone to hear. The brief message clearly stated his destination and purpose. “Wendy, I’m heading to New York for a business trip. You and Ava should stay at your dad’s place for a couple of days!” The relatives who had been quick to jump to conclusions now looked at Grandma suspiciously. After all, they knew what kind of person she was. “That’s definitely Richard’s voice. That boy has always spoken softly, raised by his mother to be as delicate as a little girl,” one aunt commented. “Wait, how did Third Aunt know her son was gone?” another relative asked. “Yeah, we came in such a rush. On the way here, Third Sister kept repeating only one thing—that her son was driven to death by his daughter-in-law. When we asked for more details, she would just cry.” “Could there be some misunderstanding? We shouldn’t stick our necks out just for a free meal.” So all this commotion was just for a free meal? Grandma sure was stingy. Just like in my previous life. After receiving the huge insurance payout, Grandma had kept a large portion for herself. She traveled, wined, and dined, showing off her luxurious life in the family group chat, making everyone envious. Later, if it weren’t for her refusing to lend money to her own nephew for medical treatment, I wouldn’t have learned from my cousin about Grandma’s lavish lifestyle while she cried poverty. Too bad, I thought. She probably won’t even get to treat them to that meal now.

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My wife, Amelia Johnson, and I had been childless by choice for seven years. She decided to be a surrogate for her best friend, Michael Harris. I watched her sweetly smile as she talked on the phone. “The child will inherit all of Charlie’s fortune. We won’t even need to raise them.” Then she texted me: [Honey, surrogacy isn’t cheating. He’s gay! What are you worried about?] When I suggested terminating the pregnancy, she responded with divorce papers. Amelia told me not to have regrets, and her words cut deep. I crumpled up my kidney cancer diagnosis in my hand. Who would be the one with regrets now? After seven blissful years of marriage with Amelia, I was blindsided on our anniversary with the news that she’d agreed to be a surrogate for her male best friend. I had always desperately wanted a child of my own. Yet I’d gotten a vasectomy out of concern for her health. And now here she was, willingly enduring IVF treatments to have a baby for her best friend? What did that make me? “I know you don’t like kids. Once the baby’s born, I’ll hand it straight over to him. He’s gay and can’t have kids of his own. Isn’t that tragic enough?” Amelia stated with absolute conviction. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. As an orphan, I’d always dreamed of having my own family. How could she think I didn’t want children? Sure, I was married, but Amelia was having someone’s baby. How did that give me the family I longed for? Just then, a nurse interrupted our conversation. “Mr. Charlie Jones, the results from your wife’s specially ordered medical examination are ready.” “Go get the reports from the nurse,” Amelia quickly told me, pressing her thermos into my palm. “You rushed out this morning without breakfast, so I made some chicken soup. I was worried about your stomach.” The medical staff nearby made appreciative noises. Those little gestures that once felt so sweet now just made me uncomfortable and tense. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d accidentally overheard earlier when I arrived early at the entrance. “The child will inherit all of Charlie’s fortune. We won’t even need to raise them.” Those words kept echoing in my mind, each repetition like a bell tolling numbly against my heart. The nurse kept chattering in my ear. “Your wife really takes such good care of you, sir. Some of these specialist appointments have a six-month waiting list. Seven years of checkups. She’s really devoted to you.” “Is that so?” I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. After collecting all the medical reports, I frowned deeply at the final page. I rushed to the obstetrics department, only to learn Amelia had already left. My phone buzzed with over a dozen messages from her, fussing about the cold weather and saying she’d asked my secretary to bring me a scarf. She wrote that I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, so she’d gone ahead to handle some company business for me. She mentioned she had a big surprise planned for our seventh anniversary. The messages kept coming, one after another, each seemingly showing how much she cared. Through the rearview mirror, the cab driver grinned and teased, “Must be your wife, huh? She can’t bear to be apart from you. Your phone’s blowing up with messages.” The radio volume in the car gradually increased as the female host read cheerfully, “Today marks the seventh anniversary of Mrs. Jones, wife of the Jones Group CEO. On this special day, she wants to tell him…” The driver clicked his tongue and remarked, “Now that’s what I call hitting the jackpot. A self-made man marries a rich wife! She even changed her company name for him, and she’s totally devoted. Wonder how he pulled that off.” I could only manage a bitter smile. As I pushed open the car door and entered the company, reaching my office floor, party poppers exploded in the air. The entire floor was decorated with baby-themed ornaments. The employees joyfully congratulated me on having a son. Candles and roses created a pathway, and at the end stood Amelia, smiling at me. My phone buzzed with a notification, and I hesitantly opened the video. Her so-called “best friend” was tangled intimately with her on our marriage bed. Did she ever truly love me?

I didn’t know if someone’s love could be a facade for seven years. The videos I saw and the conversations I overheard at the hospital, combined with all these baby decorations in front of me, made my stomach churn and my face turn pale. Amelia came over and affectionately took my hand. The swelling in her hands and feet and the backache from pregnancy were noticeable now. Just standing for a moment made cold sweat break out on her forehead and nose. My assistant Alex Wills whispered that Amelia had put up all these decorations herself, saying she didn’t want anyone else touching our seventh-anniversary preparations. Amelia pulled me into the office, where her male best friend had already prepared a cup of hot water for her. “Tonight’s family dinner. Dad finally agreed to let me bring you!” That was her surprise. “Don’t be mad that I announced at work that the baby is ours. How else could we fool Dad? It is perfect! We can use the little one to get his approval finally.” As a poor guy who married a rich man’s daughter, I’d gotten nothing but cold shoulders from her family for seven years. Amelia had been caught in the middle, and thinking about that made my heart soften a bit. Michael leaned in with a grin, arm around her shoulders. “Hey, you should be thanking your friendly sperm donor here. Charlie’s shooting blanks, after all.” My supposed infertility was just a lie we made up when Amelia was afraid of having kids, and I got a vasectomy to back up the story. Before I could object, Amelia glared at him and pointed her finger in his face, demanding he apologize to me. “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me? I’m a germaphobe! Anyone but my husband makes my skin crawl!” Michael quickly threw up his hands in surrender. This act had been performed hundreds, thousands of times in front of me over the past seven years. I truly believed they were just best friends, never seeing anything wrong with it. Now, it just makes my eyes ache to think about it. I could finally hear the challenge hidden beneath his playful tone. Amelia excitedly told me, “I really took one for the team this time! You wanted that land in the south district, right? Well, he said he’d give it to us directly. And about that bidding process, you’ve been stressing over. I’ll sweet-talk him tonight. With this baby, my dad will definitely help you out.” Over these two weeks, she’d traveled across half of the country for me, compiling detailed market research, leaving nothing out. Michael made a snide comment about her taking care of herself, “Some people, hmph, they’re so eager to help their husband that they ignore their morning sickness. Wonder who was throwing up bile the other day?” I kept my eyes down, unsure how to react. “Get rid of it,” I suddenly said. “The infertility certificate was fake. On our wedding day, you cried and told me your mother died on the operating table during childbirth. So I got a vasectomy and made up that lie. Your body isn’t suited for pregnancy. Please terminate it.” Amelia clutched her stomach, shaking her head repeatedly. I started to pull out the medical report from my pocket. But then I heard her say sadly, “Michael has kidney cancer. It is his only chance to have a child. Honey, can’t we just help him out?”

I felt pretty helpless about the whole thing. Her love for me had seemed so passionate and intense, yet she was afraid of getting pregnant with me while wanting to give Michael an heir. She claimed to be a germaphobe, wincing whenever others touched her. Yet there she was, intimately entangled with her “best friend” in our marital bed. Michael saw me covering my face and sneered, “You better not claim you have cancer, too. She checked your electronic medical records right away. They were clean.” I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I did have a cancer report in my hand, but it wasn’t mine. Suddenly, the lights went dark, and a group of people emerged singing with a cake. Turns out this was another birthday surprise. “By the way, today is also Mr. Harris’ birthday. Perfect timing to celebrate together.” The employees thought it was quite a coincidence, but my smile became strained as my heart sank. Every year, Amelia made such a huge deal of this anniversary, even bringing Michael along. Now I could see clearly who the real celebration was for. The employees gathered around, chattering excitedly about how Amelia had made this three-tiered cake herself despite being pregnant and how she’d specifically chosen flavors she knew I liked. “Mr. Jones likes strawberries but not strawberry-flavored cake! Mrs. Jones really pays attention to every little detail about Mr. Jones.” Several younger employees squealed dramatically, “She’s so in love with Mr. Jones!” “They’re making us single people jealous again, doing this every year.” As I cut the cake surrounded by everyone, my feelings were a complicated mess. After the crowd dispersed and my emotions settled, I realized I didn’t dare to bring up our marriage issues just yet. I just wanted to give us both time to think things through. But as soon as I started to leave, Amelia came running after me in panic, hugging me so tightly that the cuts on her fingers began bleeding again. “I was too rushed making your chicken soup this morning,” she said. Her hands, once as smooth as pearl, were now covered in scars from seven years of cooking for me. My heart softened. She’d grown up pampered by her father, yet here she was, cooking meals for a poor guy like me. “I just need some time to clear my head.” I tried to reassure her. “Charlie!” she cried out, clutching my arm with tear-filled eyes. Her emotions were so intense that she doubled over, holding her belly and sobbing, “Charlie, it’s all my fault. Please don’t be angry.” Then she slowly sank to the ground and passed out. Following our family doctor’s advice, I took her home to rest. Suddenly, the nurse on the phone apologized to me. “We sent you the wrong electronic report today. I accidentally recorded the cancer diagnosis on your health check report. Please refer to the paper version instead and bring your wife in for an examination as soon as possible.” After hanging up, I received screenshots from the nurse on my phone. On the electronic report she sent today, it was written in black and white that I had terminal cancer. No wonder, no wonder they could ask so precisely whether I had cancer, too. No wonder they could produce a fake report so quickly. The cold wind from the balcony chilled me to the bone as I opened my other phone, which was connected to the listening device in the room. I heard Amelia, who was supposed to be unconscious, speaking softly to someone else. “Don’t you want to know what it feels like to be pregnant?” In the end, a bitter smile crept across my lips.

At that moment, I hated that I wasn’t a woman. I should’ve stormed in there screaming and scratching their faces like a madwoman. Instead, I had to hold back, worried about upsetting Amelia with her pregnancy and cancer diagnosis. Even as I stood there, a complete fool, my eye caught something in the trash. It was a takeout receipt. When I checked it, it was for chicken soup from this morning. Suddenly, everything clicked. With trembling hands, I searched through the delivery app, finding every single “loving lunch” I’d eaten over the years from that same restaurant. I quickly pulled up our work group photos, and in the corner of one, I spotted a cake decoration that led me straight to the bakery. So it was all fake. The cat’s pitiful yowl from atop the fridge snapped me out of my gloomy thoughts. It had gotten itself stuck up there. When I went to help it down, it thanked me with a vicious swipe, its claws raking my hand deep enough to tear the skin. I yelped in pain and chased after it, only to watch this cat. It was untameable after seven years, curling up in Michael’s arms like a pampered kitten, purring and nuzzling. Amelia’s face was flushed, her lips still glistening, her eyes darting around, but she hadn’t even noticed my injury. “I probably can’t make it to the family dinner tonight. I need to get this checked out at the hospital.” “No hospitals!” Her knee-jerk reaction stunned me. She still thought I had cancer, not knowing about the medical records mix-up. “Why waste time at the hospital? It’s bad luck. Besides, it’s just a house cat. It’s fine. Don’t you want my dad’s approval? You can’t skip the family dinner.” That knot in my chest just wouldn’t loosen. On the way to Amelia’s father, Andrew Johnson’s dinner party, I asked her if keeping the baby was necessary. “You’ve always been terrified of having kids. Now you’re willing to risk everything for his child? What does that make our marriage? The moment Michael chose to be with men, he should have given up this obsession with having children.” Amelia bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. I asked her one last time, “Did this baby really come from IVF?” SLAP! Her hand struck my cheek. Then she reached out with trembling fingers to touch my face, but I turned away. “Charlie, how could you doubt my love for you?” The rest of the ride was silent, and before I knew it, we arrived at her father, Andrew Johnson’s, villa. Andrew, who’d always looked down his nose at me, gave his daughter a quick hug and ushered her inside. I trailed behind them, silently carrying the gifts. Then I spotted Michael, who had already made himself entirely at home here. “Michael is my godson now. He’s living with us! Got a problem with that?” Andrew snapped when he caught me staring. What right did I have to object? Even though I’d saved the company from bankruptcy, I was still just a nobody from the wrong side of the tracks. What did it matter if I’d bought this villa? I still couldn’t set foot in it like I belonged. I’d been played like a fool by this father and daughter. My phone buzzed with another message. After the video Michael sent last time, now he’d sent me a property deed. The villa had been transferred to his name. I turned off my phone and took a deep breath. “If you love me, if you’re loyal to our marriage, then terminate this pregnancy.” The happy trio suddenly fell silent. I could see the contempt in Andrew and Michael’s eyes. My last shred of hope disappeared as she hesitated until there was nothing left. “Let’s get a divorce.” Free Point

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### In a world devastated by extreme heatwaves, my best friend, Olivia, was thrown out of her husband’s house at 12:30 in the dead of night. Dressed in nothing but her pajamas, she stood sobbing on the side of the road, begging me to take her in. I drove 120 miles to pick her up, brought her home, fed her, and bought her new clothes. I even encouraged her to leave her abusive husband. But three months later, when her life didn’t improve, she tore off my protective heat suit and left me to die under the searing 120°F sun. Her reasoning? “If you hadn’t told me to divorce him, I wouldn’t be living such a miserable life!” “Claire, can you come pick me up?” The familiar voice on the other end of the phone sent a chill down my spine, freezing me in place. It was Olivia. It felt like déjà vu. This was exactly how it happened in my previous life: Olivia’s husband, Nathan Zhang, had thrown her out of the house late at night, and she’d called me, desperate for help. Without hesitation, I had driven 120 miles to bring her to safety. I treated her like family, offering her food, shelter, and support. I had even told my parents, “Olivia is like a sister to me. She’s the family that life gave me, and I’ll always look out for her.” To me, she was more than a friend—she was my closest confidante. Her problems were my problems, and I treated her with the utmost care. From the beginning, though, I had a bad feeling about Nathan. He was controlling and manipulative, and I urged Olivia to leave him, but she wouldn’t listen. Instead, she chose to marry him and move far away. After the wedding, Olivia often called to vent about how Nathan was abusive and unfaithful. I lost count of the number of times I told her to leave him. Every time she swore she’d come to me and file for divorce, but the next day, she’d reconcile with him. In my past life, I was a fool. When Nathan threw her out, I brought her home and spent weeks convincing her to leave him. After all, who wouldn’t side with her? Being kicked out in the middle of the night, forced to wander the streets—it was unforgivable. But Olivia was nothing more than a snake in disguise. Three months later, after living comfortably in my home, she snapped. In a fit of rage, she tore off my protective heat suit and threw me outside into the blistering sun. I begged her from the other side of the door, pleading for my life, but she glared at me with resentment. “Why do you get to live happily with your perfect husband while I’m left a divorced nobody?” Under the relentless heat, I collapsed in the middle of the street. My body was found days later, scorched and unrecognizable. As for Olivia? She went after my husband. I had once told him, “Ethan, Olivia is my best friend. Treat her as well as you treat me.” And he did. He trusted her when she told him there were roses growing outside that he should pick to honor my memory. Wearing a compromised heat suit she had prepared, Ethan ventured out into the deadly heat. He suffocated in the sweltering air, his body baking under the sun until he was nothing but dried remains. But now, somehow, I had been given a second chance. I found myself standing in the same moment as before, Olivia’s voice trembling on the other end of the line.

“Claire? Did you hear me?” she asked again, her tone pitiful. I smirked coldly. Oh, I heard her just fine. This was my chance to rewrite my fate. “Olivia,” I said, my voice calm but distant, “Nathan probably didn’t mean it. He loves you too much to actually kick you out. You should go back and talk to him.” There was silence on the line. Then, Olivia stammered, “W-what? Claire, are you mad at me? Is this because I didn’t listen to you before? Please, you’re the only person I can turn to. You’ve always been there for me. You’re my best friend!” She began showering me with compliments, recounting all the ways I had helped her in the past. But with every word she spoke, my heart only grew colder. If she truly knew how much I had cared for her, why had she betrayed me so cruelly in my last life? Why had she called me a “fake friend” and destroyed my family out of jealousy? I remembered telling Ethan, “Honey, Olivia is like a sister to me. Treat her the same way you treat me.” How naive I had been. She was no sister—she was a monster. And because of my blind trust, Ethan had died a horrific death, suffocating in the heat while searching for roses she had lied about. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake.

The moment I hung up the call with Olivia, regret surged through me, sharp and bitter. “Claire?” Ethan, my husband, stirred awake and walked out of the bedroom, his voice groggy with sleep. He glanced at the phone in my hand, and when he saw Olivia’s name on the screen, his brow furrowed. “Another fight with her husband?” he asked softly. I nodded, then turned my attention back to the phone. “Olivia,” I said calmly, “go back home. Nathan won’t leave you out there. Trust me.” Before she could respond, I ended the call. But I wasn’t done. I immediately dialed Nathan. In my past life, Olivia had blamed me for convincing her to leave him. This time, I’d make sure they stayed together. “Nathan,” I started when he answered, “Olivia’s at the grocery store on the corner. She says you don’t love her, but I know that’s not true. You two have been through so much together—she’s lucky to have someone like you.” “Claire?” Nathan asked, his voice dripping with suspicion. “It’s me,” I confirmed. He scoffed, his tone turning cold. “If it weren’t for you meddling last time, Olivia wouldn’t have left in the first place. And now you’re trying to play the hero?” Meddling? Oh, Olivia. How much had you lied to me in our past life? She’d claimed I encouraged her to leave him, but it was clear now that she had twisted the narrative to suit her self-pity. “Nathan,” I said, my voice firm, “you can’t just throw accusations like that. I’ve always told Olivia to work things out with you. Marriage isn’t something you give up on lightly. You two belong together.” There was silence, then a begrudging, “Fine. I’ll go get her.” As I hung up, I smirked. Olivia, I hope you’re ready to explain yourself when Nathan shows up. Don’t forget to throw your so-called ‘best friend’ under the bus to save your own skin. With those two out of the way, I still couldn’t relax. In three days, global temperatures were predicted to rise above 120°F, and chaos would soon follow. Even though utilities like water and electricity would still function, the unbearable heat would make it nearly impossible to go outside. Protective suits could help for short trips, but even a small tear could lead to burns, dehydration, or worse. Fear and despair would take over. Supplies would dwindle. And then the true horror would begin—crime would skyrocket. I’d seen it all in my past life. The memory of those days haunted me, pushing me to act immediately. I called my boss and requested a leave of absence. Then I did the same for Ethan. Next, I called my parents. “Mom, Dad,” I said urgently, “the heatwave is coming. You need to tell everyone in the village to start preparing the fallout shelter in the back hills.” My parents lived in a small village founded by my family generations ago. Fewer than ten households remained, all of them relatives. The fallout shelter, built into the hillside behind our orchards, had been abandoned for years. But I remembered stumbling across it as a child during one blazing summer. The outside temperature had been in the high 90s, but inside the shelter, it was a cool, comfortable 68°F. I’d even fallen asleep there, only to be scolded by my parents when they found me hours later. After that, my dad started using the shelter to cool off while working in the orchard. He even set up a small space for me to rest whenever I tagged along. In this life, the memory of that cool, safe haven was all I could think about. In my previous life, when the heatwave hit, my parents had rushed to the shelter and confirmed that it still maintained a livable temperature. Ethan and I had planned to join them, but Olivia refused to leave the city. “It’s so inconvenient to pack up and move,” she complained. “Besides, the government will take care of us. Things will settle down soon enough.” When I insisted on leaving, she burst into tears. “You’re abandoning me, aren’t you? I thought I was your best friend!” Her sobs wore me down, and I foolishly stayed. But staying was a death sentence. Ethan and I both perished—him from dehydration when Olivia sabotaged his protective suit, and me from heat exposure after she locked me outside. And Olivia? She and Nathan took over the shelter, leaving my parents and the villagers to die under the scorching sun. The thought of it still made my blood boil.

“Mom, Dad, listen carefully. Tell everyone in the village—those who can return home should do so immediately, and those who can’t must stock up on essential supplies and stay put. And one more thing: don’t tell anyone outside the village about our location or that we’re preparing. Not a word about the supplies, either.” “This is about survival.” “Claire, what’s going on?” My mom’s voice was filled with alarm, her nervousness radiating through the phone. “Mom, a scientist I know says the temperature will hit 120°F in three days.” “120°F?” My mom gasped, nearly dropping the phone in shock. Time was running out, so I quickly emphasized the gravity of the situation. Hearing the urgency in my voice, my parents finally began to understand the seriousness. They swore they would follow my instructions to the letter. “Mom, there’s no time to waste. You and Dad need to start preparing immediately. The fallout shelter hasn’t been used in years—it’ll need a lot of repairs. Get to work, fast.” “Got it.” I reminded them to send me daily progress updates and to assign tasks to the other villagers. Only by working together could they speed up the preparations. Once I was certain my parents would take action, I heaved a long sigh of relief and finally allowed myself to drift into a deep sleep. The next morning, I had Ethan take his parents to my parents’ village. “Claire, are you okay?” Ethan asked, concern etched into his face. His worry made my chest tighten. Memories of his death in my past life flashed through my mind, and I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my arms around him. “I’m fine,” I said softly. “But according to the expert, the heatwave will hit in a few days. We need to prepare now. Take your parents to my mom and dad’s place, and help them get the fallout shelter fixed. Most importantly, make sure they have enough supplies.” “What about you?” Ethan frowned. “You’re staying behind?” I shook my head. “There are some supplies the village can’t get. I’ll handle them here. Once you get there, ask my parents to gather a few trucks and have them wait for me at the cemetery on the edge of the village.” “Alright.” I shared the rest of my plan with him. Although he looked a little confused, he didn’t question me. Ethan could sense how serious this was, and though he didn’t fully understand, he trusted me. “Ethan,” I said firmly, “don’t tell anyone about the fallout shelter or why we’re stocking up. If anyone asks, say it’s for renovating the family shrine and preparing for a memorial gathering.” Ethan, quick on the uptake, nodded without hesitation. He left right away, driving our SUV, stopping along the way to pick up tools for electricity and water systems. Meanwhile, I headed straight to the farmers’ markets, buying supplies in bulk. I divided everything into categories—meat, rice, vegetables—all meticulously planned. At the same time, I instructed my parents to buy large freezers, but to do so discreetly. “Don’t buy them all from one place,” I told them. “Spread it out so it doesn’t attract attention.” Once the freezers arrived at the house, they moved them to the fallout shelter. From the videos my mom sent me, the shelter was shaping up beautifully. With the help of the aunts in the village, the once-abandoned space was now almost unrecognizable. I remembered the shelter being large, but I hadn’t realized just how massive it was. After cleaning and organizing, they’d even divided it into sections: living quarters, a recreation area, a kitchen, and, surprisingly, an open-air section where sunlight streamed in. The deeper they went into the shelter, the more impressive it became. At the very back, the shelter connected to a cliffside with a natural ventilation system. The breeze made it perfect for planting crops. “Claire,” my mom said in one of her updates, “we’ve cleaned out all the rooms and installed water and electricity. We even left space for the freezers.” With the shelter coming together so well, I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders. Now, I could focus on the rest of the supplies without distraction.

Three full trucks packed with supplies. The truck driver chuckled as he glanced at me. “Miss, are you opening a grocery store or something?” I smiled back, playing along. “Big celebration in the village—lots of guests and a banquet to prepare. You’d be surprised how fast all this will disappear.” “Ah, that makes sense. For a second, I thought you were stocking up for the apocalypse!” I didn’t bother explaining further; sometimes, less was more. I sent the three trucks to three separate drop-off points near different cemeteries, where Ethan and some of the guys from the village were waiting. Once the supplies were unloaded, we carefully transferred them to the trucks my family had brought. I’d reminded everyone repeatedly to avoid being seen. The supplies were discreetly delivered to the fallout shelter in ten separate trips. By the time we finished, the shelter was packed wall-to-wall with food, water, and essentials. The sight of it all made me feel like a deflated balloon, and I collapsed onto the sofa with a long sigh. For the first time since my rebirth, I felt safe. This time, the heat wouldn’t kill me. It had been so long since I’d seen my parents. When I finally did, I couldn’t hold back my emotions. I threw myself into their arms and cried like a child. Startled by my outburst, they tried to comfort me, their voices full of worry. “What’s wrong, Claire? Why are you crying so much?” I shook my head, brushing it off with a weak excuse. “It’s just… the heat. It’s overwhelming, and I couldn’t hold it in.” My mom chuckled and teased, “You’re acting like a little kid again.” I smiled through my tears and leaned into their warmth, letting myself be a daughter for just a moment longer. Once I’d calmed down, I started asking detailed questions about the shelter. When I arrived earlier, my uncle had been overseeing the installation of reinforced fencing around the perimeter. Honestly, if my mom hadn’t guided me inside, I never would’ve found the entrance. They’d done an incredible job hiding it. Forget Olivia—no one, not even the locals, would be able to locate this place. That night, my mom and a few of the aunts prepared a feast to welcome us. After dinner, Ethan took me on a little tour of the shelter. Holding hands, we explored every nook and cranny. “I didn’t have time to fix everything,” Ethan said, gesturing toward some unfinished sections. “We don’t know how long this heatwave will last, but your dad and I figured we could improve things bit by bit as we go.” “There’s plenty of time,” I reassured him, squeezing his hand. Knowing how much I loved watching movies, Ethan had even set up a small room with a projector. Seeing his thoughtfulness made me smile. The next day, the heatwave hit. The temperature soared to 122°F, and the world outside descended into chaos. People who dared step outdoors without proper protection were immediately burned. And unlike regular burns, these heat injuries were slow to heal. Experts and government officials issued warnings, urging citizens to stay indoors and avoid unnecessary travel. Community workers began distributing protective suits, based on the number of residents in each neighborhood. When our building’s property manager called to check on us, I told them, “Oh, my family’s traveling out of town, so you don’t need to include us in the headcount.” Meanwhile, Olivia sent me a picture of my house.

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## To save his precious first love, the so-called “light of his life,” my boyfriend didn’t hesitate to shove me straight into a horde of zombies. When I opened my eyes again, I had already become one of them. And I swore, I would kill him. Ironically, fate had other plans—he became the Zombie King. But that didn’t matter. I still planned to kill him. If I couldn’t beat him head-on, I’d use every trick in the book. “Ahhh! Help me! Someone, please!” A piercing scream echoed from downstairs. I hesitated for a moment, but my boyfriend, Chris, took off like a sprinter, rushing toward the sound. A few of his teammates exchanged glances and smirked knowingly. “Looks like the Captain’s in a hurry. I bet it’s Anna Lane—the goddess he’s been pining after forever. His first love. Still hasn’t gotten over her, has he?” Someone coughed awkwardly, trying to shut them up. “Hey, his girlfriend is right here. Watch what you’re saying.” Another one chuckled. “Relax, it’s just a joke. You’re not mad, are you?” Mad? I wanted to shoot him right between the eyes. But this was Chris’s squad, his people. I had no power here, no influence. Picking a fight with them would only make things worse. So I swallowed my anger and kept quiet. It wasn’t like they cared what I thought anyway. Still, when Chris didn’t come back after a while, everyone started to look uneasy. “We should go check on them,” someone suggested. I didn’t want to go. But if I refused, they’d brand me as selfish, a liability, someone who didn’t care about the team. And I couldn’t let them drag my name through the mud. Reluctantly, I followed them downstairs. What we saw made my stomach drop. Anna Lane stood in the middle of the zombie horde, surrounded by a faint protective shield. She was screaming her lungs out as the zombies pressed closer and closer. The light of her shield was dimming rapidly—she wouldn’t last much longer. Among the horde were high-tier zombies. Trying to rescue her would be a suicide mission. Even the ones who had been shouting about saving their “goddess” moments ago went quiet. Chris was hurling fireballs at the zombies, but they barely made a dent in the crowd. His attacks did nothing to stop the tide. And then, he crouched down, his face buried in his hands. Was he… crying? I had never seen him like this before. When I was in danger, he always stayed calm, calculating the risks before swooping in at the last second to “gracefully” save the day. If I ever voiced even the slightest dissatisfaction, he’d look at me like I was being unreasonable. “It’s for the good of the team,” he’d say, his tone clipped. “I can’t prioritize you over everyone else. Can’t you be a little more understanding?” Or worse: “It’s the apocalypse. Death is normal. Consider this practice for the day you’re really surrounded by zombies. At least then you won’t embarrass yourself by breaking down.” Sometimes, he didn’t even bother pretending. “Why can’t you be more like Anna? She’s soft, sweet—everything a girl should be. You’re too independent. It’s exhausting. You make me feel like I’ve got nothing to offer you.” But the man who claimed to put the team above all else had risked our lives countless times for Anna. Funny how his priorities shifted when it came to her. Disgusting. “What do we do, Boss?” one of the teammates asked hesitantly. Chris’s eyes were bloodshot as he looked around, desperate. Then, his gaze locked onto me. In that split second, I knew something was wrong. Before I could react, he shoved me forward—straight into the horde. The zombies, who had been fixated on Anna, turned their attention to me. Their hollow, black eyes gleamed with hunger. Panicking, I tried to retreat, but elemental blasts from behind forced me back. I looked toward the team, hoping for help, but their faces were cold, indifferent. Some even aimed their attacks at my weak spots, ensuring I couldn’t fight back. These people, my so-called teammates, had turned into executioners. In the end, I was devoured by the horde. And Chris? He used the time I bought with my life to save Anna. If I could do it all over again, I’d make sure to kill that bastard with my own hands.

When I opened my eyes, the pain was gone. Zombies shuffled around me, occasionally stepping on my mangled body. But none of them attacked me. Confused, I sat up, only to see that half my flesh had been chewed off. My stomach had a gaping hole, and when I reached inside, I could feel my intestines. Oh. I was dead. Or rather, undead.

The next few days were a blur. I was starving. The urge to bite, to devour, consumed me. I managed to find a few rats, but every time I tried to eat, dozens of other zombies swarmed in, fighting over scraps. I couldn’t even get a bite of fur. Frustrated and weak, I sat in a daze. Then, I heard voices. Human voices. In this zombie-infested world, hearing people was as rare as winning the lottery. Where there were humans, there was a fight. And where there was a fight, there were high-level ability users. As a low-level zombie, I had no strength to charge into a battle. Doing so would be suicide. But risk and opportunity are two sides of the same coin. If I wanted revenge, I had to grow stronger. And to do that, I needed crystal cores. These ability users probably had plenty of them.

I crept closer to the voices, careful to stay just outside their detection range. My experience as a scout helped me gauge the right distance—close enough to watch, far enough to avoid being noticed. The other zombies? They charged in blindly, throwing themselves at the ability users and dying instantly. But when they died, crystal cores burst from their skulls. My mouth watered at the sight. While the ability users were distracted, I snuck around, scavenging the cores from the fallen zombies. The unpurified energy was chaotic and weak, but it was better than nothing. After swallowing a few, I felt a faint surge of power coursing through me. Curious, I turned to a nearby zombie that was crawling forward. “Sit,” I commanded in my mind. The zombie paused, then clumsily crouched down, obeying the order. A grin spread across my decayed face. This was just the beginning.

I always had a special ability—a rare support skill: control. But it only worked on my own kind. I couldn’t control zombies whose minds operated on a different wavelength. In the human world, my ability was seen as useless, almost laughable. But among humans, it was feared. People worried I’d use it against them. Because of that fear, every time I went on a mission, the crystal cores that were rightfully mine were taken away under one excuse or another. I died without even having the power to control a single person. But now? The tables had turned. A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth as I observed the ongoing battle. Both sides were locked in a stalemate. The humans were strong and experienced in killing zombies. Even when multiple high-tier zombies attacked at once, they could hold their ground. But humans had limits. Their stamina would run out, while zombies had no such weakness. Patiently, I waited, watching countless zombies sacrifice themselves. Finally, the humans began to show signs of exhaustion. The high-tier zombies noticed this shift, too. They began preparing to strike. Everyone wanted what the humans carried—their purified crystal cores. These weren’t ordinary cores. They were refined from hundreds, if not thousands, of raw cores, packed with immense energy. Eating just one could elevate a low-tier zombie to a mid-tier one. I needed those. But so did the high-tier zombies around me, all of whom were stronger and deadlier than I was.

After sneaking off and swallowing countless crystal cores, I let out a satisfied belch. My body, once mangled and skeletal, had begun to regenerate. Thin layers of flesh covered my bones like a fragile membrane, almost like plastic wrap. In just one day, I had made this much progress. I should have been content. But I wasn’t. Greed had always been my driving force. Even when I was human, I knew that fortune favored the bold. It was why I left the safety of the quarantine zones to join a mercenary squad. Sure, I died miserably in the end, but it was still better than living a life of poverty and humiliation. Then, a scream snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned toward the sound. The humans were being overwhelmed by the zombie horde, still putting up a desperate fight. That’s when the high-tier zombies, who had been biding their time, finally joined the fray. After a brutal battle, the zombies’ sheer numbers won out. The humans were defeated. But zombies don’t share. As soon as the external fight ended, the high-tier zombies turned on each other, vying for the spoils. I don’t know who started it. All I heard was a piercing howl, and suddenly the horde split into factions. To avoid suspicion, I blended into one of the groups. Three-way chaos broke out. The high-tier zombies stood atop the rubble like alpha wolves, commanding their respective factions to attack. The low-tier zombies below clashed violently, while the high-tier ones above fought with vicious precision, each aiming for their opponent’s head to rip out the crystal cores inside.

Three high-tier zombies dominated the battlefield: one with teleportation abilities, one with tentacle-like appendages, and one with regeneration. The fight was absolute chaos—low-tier zombies tearing each other apart below, while the high-tier ones battled relentlessly above. The first to fall was the regenerating zombie. Its recovery speed was impressive, but its opponents were faster. The tentacle zombie wrapped around it, rendering it helpless. When it was finally thrown from the heights, it hit the ground with a sickening splat, reduced to a puddle of gore. The low-tier zombies it commanded scattered instantly. Obedience to high-tier zombies is instinctual, but that loyalty doesn’t extend to one that’s barely clinging to life. Up above, the tentacle zombie and teleportation zombie continued their heated battle, completely ignoring everything below. They were locked in a fight to the death. I seized the opportunity and moved toward the humans’ backpacks, hoping to loot their crystal cores. But another zombie moved faster than me. The puddle of gore that had once been the regenerating zombie had begun to twitch. By the time I noticed, it was already slithering toward the backpacks, its movements almost imperceptible. It was playing a clever game, pretending to be defeated. By faking its downfall, it had removed itself from everyone’s radar, allowing it to quietly approach the prize. But as the saying goes, “The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.” It didn’t expect someone else—me—to be watching. If zombies had a hierarchy of strength, and only the strong deserved to claim the spoils, why should I back down? As the regenerating zombie began to reform into a humanoid shape, I took control of the low-tier zombies nearby. “Roar,” I commanded them silently. The low-tier zombies howled on cue, drawing the attention of the two high-tier zombies above. Startled, the regenerating zombie froze.

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It was supposed to be just another night shift in the ER on New Year’s Eve. But then, an emergency came through: an unexpected case of a ruptured corpus luteum. And to my shock, the patient was none other than my girlfriend, Emily Kent. We’d been together for three years. Because Emily couldn’t accept pre-marital intimacy, I hadn’t even kissed her yet. But as I looked at the three men who’d come with her, I was completely stunned. What in the world was going on? “Dr. Ford, we have a patient. Dr. Betsby wants you to take a look.” On New Year’s Eve, my night shift was at the ER. I glanced at the clock. It was nearly time to go, but the nurse rushed in, asking for my help. “What’s the situation?” I asked. The nurse hesitated, looking slightly uncomfortable. “It’s a ruptured corpus luteum.” I wasn’t fazed by the news. After years in the field, nothing really shocked me anymore, but I could tell from the nurse’s expression that this wasn’t just a run-of-the-mill case. Still, I didn’t give it much thought until I grabbed the patient file. Emily. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at it, then down at the date of birth. The age matched, too. I tried to shake it off. It had to be a coincidence, right? It was a common name, after all. I was too busy to ask more questions. The emergency room wasn’t the place for distractions. As we walked to the room, the nurse dropped another bombshell. “She came in with three men… It might be related to, well, what happened.” She wasn’t being direct, but I picked up on the implication. Ruptured corpus luteum? It wasn’t common unless something intense had happened. I wasn’t sure if the girl did this willingly, so I couldn’t call the police yet. Still, I asked, “It wasn’t forced, right?” The nurse immediately reassured me. “No, no. Absolutely not.” Then, with a flush creeping up her neck, she added, “You’ll see when you meet her.” When I walked into the room, everything hit me at once. I heard a familiar soft voice coming from the bed. “It’s not your fault. I just got too excited and didn’t know my own limits…” My heart froze. That voice was definitely my girlfriend’s. I had no words. I had planned to take her home to meet my parents on January 2nd. But now… I stepped forward, my hands trembling as I pushed the door open. And when I saw Emily lying there in that hospital bed, my stomach twisted into a knot. She glanced at me, and her smiling face turned stormy in an instant. “Claudio? What are you doing here?!” She snapped, her voice like a whip. Then, her eyes narrowed, and she screamed, “What are you standing there for? Can’t you see I’m in an emergency? You want me dead or what?” I swallowed my anger, pushing it down. “What’s going on, Emily? Care to explain?” My voice was strained. “Are you telling me you slept with these three men?” She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she slapped me hard across the face. “Are you insane?” Her eyes burned with fury. “Who told you a ruptured corpus luteum means someone’s been having sex? You’re a doctor! Can’t you even think straight?” She continued, “What? Are you implying that someone coming for a gynecological check-up automatically has a messed-up personal life? “These are my friends! If they hadn’t brought me to the hospital, I wouldn’t even know where I was! “You, as my boyfriend, should’ve been more responsible instead of jumping to conclusions and slandering me! “How shameless can you be?!” The three men who’d been standing silently by her side suddenly seemed to gain confidence, each of them growing bolder by the second. The one with yellowed teeth sneered at me. “We’re just friends, man. Just cut off your wild thoughts. You think you’re worthy of being a doctor?” His voice was mocking, dripping with disdain. “We saved your girlfriend and didn’t even ask for anything in return. You should be grateful.” I looked Emily dead in the eyes, my mind racing. “Friends? Funny, I never knew about these friends of yours.” Her teeth clenched, and I saw her face turn red. “Do you seriously think I’m supposed to tell you everything about my life? I’m allowed to have my own privacy, you know! “You say you respect me, but all you’re doing is trying to control me!” I could only laugh bitterly, but I didn’t respond. What could I even say at this point? Emily’s anger flared again. “You’re unbelievable!” Her voice cracked as she continued, “I’m about to die, and instead of being supportive, you’re accusing me!” “You’re a doctor, Claudio,” she hissed, “and yet you’re treating me like this? If you keep this up, I’ll report you!”

Emily’s shouting attracted a crowd of onlookers. Some people pulled out their phones and started recording, while the nurse tried to stop the spectators and warned Emily not to make false accusations. Emily cried out, “What? He can spread rumors about me, but I’m not allowed to defend myself? “What kind of hospital is this, letting doctors bully patients like that?” Some of the onlookers started shouting, “Why are you slandering this young lady?” “Exactly! This doctor looks all respectable, but he’s so dirty on the inside!” Seizing the moment, Emily yelled, “I don’t want Claudio to treat me! I’d rather die than let this unprofessional person touch me!” The nurse grew a little frantic. “Ma’am, Dr. Ford is the most authoritative doctor on duty tonight.” “A man is the expert in gynecology? Are you serious?” Emily pushed herself upright in the bed, her eyes flashing with anger. “You’re all in this together! Your hospital just wants me dead!” “No, Ma’am…” The nurse didn’t get to finish before the tallest man among the three shoved her aside and landed a punch straight to her face. “Are you deaf or what? You’re dragging this out, trying to kill her, aren’t you? “It’s New Year’s Eve! How could you even do this?” The young nurse held her face, tears flooding instantly. I quickly stepped in front of her, shouting, “What the hell you’re doing?!” Before the man could respond, Emily started crying, “Oh, I get it! No wonder you couldn’t care less about me and are trying to ruin me with lies! Turns out you’re having an affair with this nurse!” “An affair? Emily, you told me you were afraid of being woken up by fireworks, so you went to sleep early. And now you’re here with three men, almost hospitalized for a ruptured corpus luteum. Who’s really the one having an affair? “If you’re going to accuse me of slander, fine. I’ll call the cops right now. They’ll clear your name for you!” The crowd around us seemed to agree. But the three men began to panic. The yellow-toothed one looked at Emily. “Wait, that’s not supposed to happen!” Emily’s face turned pale. “You’re calling the cops now just to delay my treatment. You want me dead, don’t you? Why can’t you just wait until I’m better to explain? “We’ve been together for all these years, and you don’t trust me at all?” I gritted my teeth. Trust? Three years ago, under pressure from my family, I met Emily through an arranged date. Her parents had divorced, each moving on with their own lives, leaving her without anyone to depend on. Her life had been difficult, and her father would often demand money from her; when he didn’t get it, he would block her in and beat her. In our first month together, I felt sorry for her and gave her six thousand dollars out of my eight-thousand-dollar salary, never questioning where it went. She had nowhere to live, so I gave her the code to my apartment. She wanted to travel, and without a second thought, I paid for her trip. I gave her my trust completely. To everyone else, it seemed like we’d get married soon. Why else would I give her so much? But the truth was, I had never even kissed Emily. She cried to me once, telling me how she had caught her mother cheating, and their intimate acts made her uncomfortable. I respected her wishes and decided to wait until after marriage to deal with it. What did I get in return? I gave a bitter smile. “You said I was slandering you, didn’t you? Calling the police to clear your name is the least I can do.” “The police are having dinner with their families. Can’t you have some decency? Stop wasting their time!” The yellow-toothed man shouted at me. The crowd around us started to catch on. “If they have nothing to hide, then why not let the police come?” “I think this woman’s the one who’s cheating.”

The three men swung their arms and shouted at the crowd, “What’s wrong with you people? Why are you all here? Focus on your family instead of making a scene here, or you’ll be the ones in the hospital next!” Their words stirred up the crowd, and it looked like things were about to get chaotic. The director arrived quickly with a team of security guards to disperse the crowd and told me to go home and rest. She’d handle the rest. I gritted my teeth and looked at Emily. “We’re done,” I muttered before turning to leave. As soon as I stepped outside the hospital, I called home. “I’m not bringing Emily back.” My parents were surprised, but I didn’t have time to explain. I quickly texted my friend: [Send me the hotel booking from last night.] The whole New Year period passed by in a haze of gloom for me, and my parents didn’t dare ask any questions. It wasn’t until the third day of the New Year that our whole family went out to celebrate my grandmother’s birthday. But what I didn’t expect was that Emily and her mother showed up at the celebration. Seeing the determined look on Emily’s face, I felt a twinge of panic and had no choice but to step forward and warn her. “Emily, I’ve already made it clear. Stop making a scene here.” “What scene? I’m just here to celebrate your grandma’s birthday.” Emily smiled and tried to walk toward my grandmother. I grabbed her arm. “Emily, we’re done!” Emily stared at me in disbelief, then suddenly burst into tears. “Claudio, what are you talking about? How can we be done?! “You heartless bastard! You don’t want to be responsible for me, do you?” With a loud scream, she drew the attention of everyone in the room. She sobbed uncontrollably, pointing at my nose. “Oh, so you slept with me and now you don’t want me anymore?!” My family gathered around, and my parents rushed to ask, “Claudio, what’s going on?” “Didn’t you hear? Claudio slept with this girl, and now he doesn’t want her anymore! How could anyone be so irresponsible?” My aunt looked at Emily and said, “Hey, isn’t this the girl Claudio said he was going to marry? Guess that was just an excuse, huh?” My mom slapped me across the face. “Claudio, you’d better explain yourself now!” “Mom, it was Emily who cheated first! I found out, and that’s why I broke up with her! “And as for sleeping with her, I never even touched her!” “You’re lying!” Emily cried out, turning to my parents. “If I really cheated, why would I come to see Claudio? I’m from a decent family. Why would I embarrass myself like that? “Claudio, you’re insulting me, aren’t you? Just because you slept with me and now you don’t want to admit it?! “We’re all adults, and you might be a player. But why did you fool me around?” As soon as she finished, her mother collapsed onto the floor, crying. “God, what have we done to deserve this? My daughter’s been suicidal, and it’s all because of this scoundrel! If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive your family!” Since my uncle’s business was large, my grandmother’s birthday party had not just my aunts and uncles but also all my cousins who were involved in business. To avoid negative influence, they all started pointing at me, demanding an explanation. “Claudio, our family’s always been decent. When has something this disgusting ever happened? If you really did this, then take responsibility and marry her! Don’t ruin our family’s reputation. Do you want our companies to go bankrupt?” “Yeah, stop crying, girl. If Claudio’s really the bastard you say he is, we’ll support you.” Emily, thinking she had the upper hand, cried even harder and ran up to my grandmother. “Ma’am, Claudio did this horrible thing just to ruin your birthday!” My uncle immediately turned pale, quickly pulling Emily away from my grandmother, and then pointed at me, shouting, “Claudio, you bastard! Hurry up and get it over with!” “I always wondered why Claudio wasn’t in a rush to get married, and now I know. He’s just playing games! If he got married, he’d be tied down, right?” “Seriously, everyone thought he was a good kid, but now we see what he’s really like. His mom wanted to leave the company to him? Someone like this doesn’t deserve to inherit anything!” My aunt began boasting about her own son’s achievements. My parents, caught in the middle, were also getting anxious. My grandmother, seeing how upset everyone was, almost fainted from the stress. To avoid a heart attack, she was quickly escorted away by my aunt. My uncle came up and punched me. “Look at the mess you’ve made! You just can’t wait to see the worst, can you? “You either take responsibility now and marry the girl or get the hell out!” He then told my parents to go home and get my documents so we could get married immediately. When my parents didn’t move, he started yelling at them too. “You’ve spoiled this little brat! He acts all decent, but look at what he’s doing!” Emily wiped away her tears. “Sir, if Claudio is willing to marry me right now, I won’t hold anything against him.” My aunt grabbed Emily’s hand. “Good girl, I’m so sorry you’ve been treated this way,” she said, then scolded me, “Go marry her now!” I replied, “I will never marry this shameless woman! Why don’t you believe me?” With a loud crash, Emily’s mother flipped the table. “Look at this! He’s making excuses just because he doesn’t want to take responsibility, even insulting my daughter! “If you’re determined to make things ugly, you should be ready for the consequences!” I smirked and looked at Emily and her mother. “Really? You don’t care about your dignity? Well, that makes things easier.” The crowd hesitated, glancing at me. Emily suddenly grew frantic. “Claudio, what do you mean?”

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The prettiest girl in our class, Vanessa Harper, sent a letter of complaint to the principal’s office, accusing me of embezzling class funds. The school immediately dispatched an inspection team and demanded that I hand over the funds. Even the counselor, Caroline Blake, tried to convince me to confess for a lighter sentence. I nodded and agreed to hold a class meeting to admit my actions. As I looked at Vanessa standing in the front of the room, I grabbed the microphone and spoke firmly. “You say I embezzled funds? Where’s the evidence?” I held a USB drive filled with payment screenshots, watching as a look of panic flashed across Vanessa’s face. Ever since I saw my father, who worked as an accountant, take the fall for his boss, I had understood one thing. When money was involved, you must keep records. It was this very lesson my father learned the hard way when he ended up in prison. From then on, for every single penny that passed through my hands, I made sure to keep meticulous records. My USB drive was full of dense Excel files, down to the exact minute and second. I could say that even a dog walking out of my USB drive would have its exact number of hairs accounted for. The reason for this meticulousness? I didn’t want to meet the same fate as my father. Little did I know that this caution would come in handy at this very moment. When the counselor called me into her office, I was still in the dorm room eating spicy snacks. Since I was the class president, going into her office was nothing new for me. So, I assumed it was just a routine matter. But when I entered, I found everyone with strange expressions on their faces. I thought something serious must have happened. In the past, whenever a student jumped from a building or attempted suicide, the teachers in the office looked about the same way. I had just walked up to the counselor’s desk when she slammed several books down with a loud thud. “Bertha, why did you embezzle the class funds?!”

Usually, I managed the class expenses. As a computer science major, sometimes the class would win prize money from competitions, and I would keep that as well. The goal was to ensure the class had enough funds for future events. Over time, the total accumulated amount reached tens of thousands of dollars. Caroline turned toward me, her face showing blatant disappointment. “Your classmates trusted you so much, and yet you did something so heartless. “Now, you’re going with me to the school’s inspection team to confess your wrongdoings.” Without waiting for my reaction, Caroline physically pushed me into the meeting room, the same one used for meeting parents. Just as the door was closing, the class teacher took a seat in the corner of the room. I looked up and saw the leaders sitting at the table. As I expected, they began by accusing me of embezzling public funds and lacking class pride and public morals. Then they lectured me about being honest and trustworthy. One of the leaders on the right pulled out a document and handed it to me, asking me to sign an apology letter. I looked around the room, finally breaking my silence. “I’m willing to confess, but it must be in the form of a class meeting.”

The school’s efficiency was faster than I had expected. In less than half an hour, they had quickly gathered all the students from my class. I stood at the podium, looking around. The students below were whispering among themselves. “Why is Bertha standing up there? Why is there a class meeting today? This is so annoying. I haven’t finished watching my TV show yet.” “Didn’t you hear? I heard Bertha embezzled the class funds and spent it all on herself!” “What! Embezzling is terrible! I haven’t stolen anything, so why should she get to?” “Being class president is the best. You can spend the class’ money however you want.” “I told you not to elect Bertha as class president. She has a scheming look. If it were me, I’d have picked Vanessa. She definitely wouldn’t embezzle!” When I saw Vanessa sitting eagerly in her chair, I finally figured out who had reported me. It could only be her. She had run against me for class president and lost with only half the votes I received. Since then, she had been making trouble for me. For example, at class meals, she would deliberately sit at the same table as me, then enthusiastically mingle with the other students, either serving food or toasting, all while bossing around. Or in class, she would always sit right in front of me, as close to the teacher as possible, trying to show off her studious nature while overshadowing me. The most memorable instance was during gym class when she would choose a spot at a comfortable distance from me, chatting with the boys around her. Thanks to her looks, the boys quickly gathered around her. Vanessa seemed like a victorious peacock, strutting past me proudly. My roommate saw this and whispered to me, “Why does she look like a turkey, sticking out her butt all high and mighty?” While I understood Vanessa’s almost twisted sense of victory, that didn’t mean I had to accept it. I tapped the microphone to check the sound. The class quickly fell silent, clearly curious about what I would say. “Today, one of my classmates reported me for embezzling public funds. “Normally, I would need to prove my innocence. “But according to Article 67 of the Civil Procedure Law, the person making a claim must provide evidence. That means whoever makes the claim must prove it. “You say I embezzled, but where’s the evidence? Vanessa?” A wave of murmurs spread throughout the class. I watched Vanessa’s face flash with a hint of panic, and I couldn’t help but sneer.

Vanessa clearly hadn’t expected me to call her out in front of the entire class. After receiving curious looks from the surrounding students, she stood up and met my gaze. After a brief moment of fluster, Vanessa quickly regained her composure. She tilted her chin, acting unfazed. “What evidence? All the students here are my witnesses. Don’t think you can fool us by quoting the law. “Bertha, the money is in your hands. You spend it however you want. Over the past two years, our class has won plenty of competition prizes, but I’ve never seen where that money went. “You say you didn’t steal, but who’s going to believe that?” Her tone became more and more certain as if she had personally witnessed me spending the class funds. Other students, who didn’t know the full story, were taken aback by what she said. Soon, whispers filled the room. “Don’t you think Vanessa might be right? Our class has a lot of money. Who knows where it all went?” “Yeah, the whereabouts of the money haven’t been revealed in two years. I didn’t really pay attention. I didn’t expect Bertha, of all people, to steal class funds.” “It’s not necessarily true, though. Vanessa is just speculating. No one knows if the money was actually spent like that.” If this were anyone else in this situation, they might be afraid of being misunderstood by their classmates. But not me. I scanned the room, making eye contact with every student below me. Finally, my eyes landed on Vanessa. “Vanessa, I said ‘show me the evidence,’ not tell me your opinions. “You’re not giving an award speech. You need to provide real evidence of my embezzlement. Understand? “If you didn’t hear me clearly, I don’t mind repeating it again.” Vanessa’s beautiful face cracked with frustration, and she nearly lost her composure. She raised her voice instinctively. “If you didn’t steal the class funds, then where did you get the money to buy designer shoes and bags?” “We’re all students, so we can’t possibly afford that with our living allowance.” Vanessa said this with a smug look on her face, completely oblivious to the awkward expressions of some of the students around her, who found her comment strange. Though everyone’s living allowances were about the same, not everyone had the same family background. Vanessa couldn’t blame the others for living off their parents just because she couldn’t do the same. As for me, I was waiting for exactly this moment. I lowered my head, leaning toward the microphone. “Vanessa, did you actually see me use the class funds to buy designer bags and shoes?” Her question caught Vanessa off guard, but she refused to let go of the opportunity to put me down. She responded confidently, “I didn’t see it, but that money definitely wasn’t yours.” At that moment, I almost burst out laughing at Vanessa’s stupidity. If it weren’t for being on stage, I would’ve applauded her. There was no evidence, just wild assumptions. When questioned, she had no idea about anything, but she reported me without hesitation. Such a beautiful face, yet such a foolish mind. I held back my laughter and quickly turned on the computer. Then, I pulled a USB drive from my pocket and plugged it into the computer. Soon, a bunch of folders appeared on the screen. The students below gasped in surprise. “What the hell? What am I seeing? There are hundreds of Excel files! Even a pro wouldn’t produce this many!” “Bertha always seemed quiet. Who could have imagined that she’s secretly a workaholic?” “Aren’t you curious what’s in there? I’m dying to know.” I bypassed the Excel files and opened a folder labeled “Video Files,” which contained the footage from the part-time jobs I had done. When I worked part-time, I was afraid the boss might exploit me and not pay, so I always filmed videos as proof. “Today is September 8, 2023. I’m at Star Zoo cleaning up parrot poop. The parrot is small, but it poops a lot.” “Today is November 30, 2023. I’m at New Century Amusement Park as a mascot, preparing to hug any handsome guy I see.” “Today is December 16, 2023. I’m in Movie Town playing a side role. Just stuck on a fake beard, ready to harass tourists.” And so on. After playing several videos, I opened up the screenshots of the payments I received for those jobs, including the name of the boss, hours worked, and other details. I ignored the class’ stunned silence and directly questioned Vanessa. “You want to know where my money came from? Well, time to take a good look.”

As soon as I finished speaking, the entire class erupted into laughter. “Oh my God, Bertha looks all quiet and reserved, but she’s really out here living it up with side gigs!” “Who even keeps such a meticulous record of their transactions in Excel?!” “Did Bertha predict that someone would try to slander her? This looks like it was planned.” “Well, Vanessa definitely seems like she’s just making stuff up. Bertha doesn’t look guilty at all.” The room buzzed with excitement as everyone discussed my side jobs. Meanwhile, Vanessa stood up, visibly out of place. Seeing all the attention shift toward me, Vanessa’s face went from pale to a shade of deep red. She clearly hadn’t anticipated that I would have taken on such a variety of side jobs during my free time, nor that I would have kept detailed records, even taking videos of my work and screenshots of every payment. She quickly regained her composure and was about to speak up, but I didn’t give her the chance. “Vanessa, you’re claiming I used class funds to buy luxury shoes and bags,” I continued, “But the truth is, I earned the money myself.” I paused, giving her a pointed look. “Even if I didn’t have side jobs, my family could support me. Does buying expensive items mean I must have stolen or misused funds?” The students who had previously looked uneasy at Vanessa’s remarks suddenly started clapping. “Exactly! Just because someone doesn’t have money doesn’t mean they should assume others are stealing! “What a loser. Always thinking that the others are as filthy as her.” My roommate was among the clappers. I’ve introduced her to several part-time jobs, and she wasn’t going to stay silent now that Vanessa had slandered me. Afterward, she gave me a wink of encouragement. Vanessa, unable to handle the backlash, started to lose her cool. Typically, she liked to maintain a soft, agreeable image in front of the class. She made sure to be overly friendly, especially during events, so that she could earn a reputation as being approachable. This had led her to believe that she was the center of attention. Now, with her true nature exposed in front of everyone, she couldn’t contain her anger any longer. “Stop making wild accusations!” she yelled. “You have no idea what kind of person I am! Do you think I’m just going to let you slander me like this? “Even if Bertha did work to earn money for luxury goods, that doesn’t prove she didn’t use class funds. The money’s all in her hands, and she can say whatever she wants. “Do you even know where our money is?” Her voice, raised in frustration, echoed throughout the room. The students winced, clearly disturbed by her outburst. After a moment of silence, they started exchanging looks. Some seemed to think Vanessa had a point because the class funds had never been accounted for. Others still felt something didn’t add up and wanted more clarity. But the majority seemed to be waiting for me to explain. After all, Caroline was present, along with a few department leaders. This class meeting had a formal tone, and the stakes were higher than usual. Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, Caroline stepped in. It seemed that the evidence I’d presented had swayed the room in my favor, as Caroline’s tone was more measured now. “Bertha, as a class officer, you set an example for everyone. Now that a classmate has raised doubts, it’s your responsibility to present evidence for everyone to see. “Whether or not there has been any misappropriation of funds, justice will prevail. I’ll never wrong any innocent student.” Caroline then turned to Vanessa. “Vanessa, calm down. If Bertha really misused class funds, I will not condone it. We will take appropriate action, as we cannot tolerate any improper behavior in this class.”

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My Roommate’s Sinister Secret Every night, my roommate would spike the milk I drank with a sedative. Then she would secretly let different men into our apartment. I remained completely oblivious to what was happening. Until one day, feeling unwell, I went for a check-up and discovered I had contracted an STD. When I returned home, I overheard my roommate on the phone with someone. “So, how was my roommate? An Ivy League graduate, and at that price – I’d say you got quite a bargain.” I was utterly heartbroken. In the ensuing argument, my roommate pushed me down the stairs, and I died on the spot. When I regained consciousness, my roommate was standing in front of me, offering that same drugged glass of milk. “Lily, haven’t you been having trouble sleeping lately? Here, have some warm milk,” my roommate Yvonne said with a smile as she handed me a mug. As I saw the milk, my mind started racing. In my previous life, I had been fooled by Yvonne’s fake kindness and unknowingly drank this drugged milk. In the days that followed, my sleep indeed improved significantly. However, every time I woke up, I felt strange, as if something was off with my body. Despite thorough self-examinations, I couldn’t find anything wrong. It wasn’t until two weeks later when I experienced itching and swelling in my private area that I realized something was seriously wrong. When the hospital diagnosis came back, my world shattered. I had contracted an STD! But how was this possible? I hadn’t been in a relationship for three years. How could I have gotten such a disease? Feeling dejected, I returned home. As I approached our apartment, I overheard Yvonne on the balcony, talking on the phone: “So, how was it? My roommate is an Ivy League graduate, a good girl from a respectable family. The price I gave you is a steal. Want to come again? Alright, tonight at midnight. Same rules apply: no visible injuries, and clean up thoroughly when you’re done.” I burst into tears and confronted her. “I saw you didn’t have a boyfriend for so long. I was just being kind, worried you might be lonely. You should be thanking me. Who knows where you got that nasty disease from anyway,” Yvonne said with a look of contempt. Enraged, I started to fight with her. But Yvonne was stronger than me. She pushed me from the tenth floor, and I died on the spot. Afterward, Yvonne spread rumors that I had committed suicide by jumping off the building because I got an STD from sleeping around. My parents were subjected to gossip and judgment. Now that I’ve been given a second chance, I must make her pay for her sins!

Coming back to my senses, I pretended to stand up casually. “Oh no!” I exclaimed as I deliberately bumped into Yvonne’s arm. The hot milk spilled all over her face and hair. “Oh, Yvonne, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that,” I apologized frantically, grabbing a rag I had just used to clean the floor and started wiping her face with it. “Lily! What are you doing with that filthy rag? It’s disgusting!” Yvonne screamed, dodging away from me. I put on an apologetic face. “I’m so sorry, Yvonne. I’ve been overworked lately, and I’m not in the best state of mind.” Yvonne glared at me, gritting her teeth. But thinking about what she had planned for later, she swallowed her anger. “It’s okay, Lily. I’ll go get you another glass,” Yvonne said, turning back to the kitchen. Soon, she came out with another glass of milk. “Here, Lily. Drink it while it’s warm,” Yvonne said, watching me expectantly. I calmly took the milk but didn’t drink it. “Why aren’t you drinking it?” Yvonne asked, starting to get anxious. “Yvonne, why don’t you have some too? I feel bad drinking alone,” I said, shaking my head and putting the glass down. “Oh, alright, I’ll drink too,” Yvonne said hurriedly, rushing back to the kitchen to make another glass of milk. “Let’s drink together, okay?” Yvonne urged me again. I smiled and brought the milk to my lips. Yvonne watched me nervously. But just as the milk touched my lips, I stopped. “What’s wrong now?” Yvonne asked, her tone tinged with impatience. I smiled sheepishly. “Yvonne, I prefer my milk a bit sweeter. Could you get me some honey?” Yvonne’s cheeks puffed up in frustration, but she finally gave in and went to the kitchen to fetch the honey jar. With lightning speed, I switched the positions of the two glasses.

“Is this good enough, princess?” Yvonne said sarcastically. I made a face at her, then slowly drank the milk under Yvonne’s watchful gaze. Yvonne let out a subtle sigh of relief. “You watch some TV. I’ll go wash the dishes,” Yvonne said, humming a tune as she quickly cleared away the milk glasses. When Yvonne came back, I pretended to be drowsy. “Yvonne, your milk really works wonders. I’m feeling sleepy already. I think I’ll head to bed now,” I said, yawning as I walked towards my room. Yvonne’s eyes lit up immediately. “Of course, of course! You go right ahead. I’ll make you milk every night from now on,” she said enthusiastically. Looking at her scheming face, I laughed coldly to myself. Soon, she’d learn who would truly suffer the consequences of her actions.

Back in my room, I quickly got under the covers and closed my eyes. Soon, I started making soft snoring sounds. Yvonne listened at my door, trying to gauge if I was asleep. Hearing no movement, she called out tentatively, “Lily, are you asleep?” I didn’t answer. Finally, Yvonne showed her true colors. “Slut, you’re in for a treat tonight,” Yvonne cursed under her breath. She immediately sent a voice message: “Everything’s ready on my end. Just follow the instructions I gave you, got it?” After sending the message, Yvonne yawned. “This really wore me out. I need to get some good sleep too.” As Yvonne’s door closed, my eyes snapped open.

Yvonne hadn’t closed her door properly. I pushed it open a crack. Yvonne was sleeping deeply; the noise of me opening the door didn’t wake her. “Yvonne,” I called, shaking her gently. Yvonne didn’t respond at all. I had to admit, the sleeping drug was potent. I unlocked Yvonne’s phone using her fingerprint. What I found shocked me to my core. Yvonne was part of a group chat called “Lost Forest” with over a hundred members. Scrolling through the chat history, cold sweat broke out on my back. This group was dedicated to providing unconscious girls for perverts to abuse. Yvonne was one of the perpetrators. Her target, naturally, was me, her roommate. She mixed sleeping drugs into my milk, making me fall into a deep sleep. Then she would let people in. Afterward, they would leave cash in the living room. No one would ever know. The more I read, the colder my heart became. The Yvonne online was vastly different from the seemingly innocent and lively girl in real life. She was vicious and cunning. Today, she had found the first “client” for me. She had left the key under the doormat for the person to let themselves in. I was shaking with anger. I created a new account, used Yvonne’s account to add myself to the group, then deleted each other as friends. Then I found the chat with that person and sent a message: “I’m sorry, I made a mistake. It’s the room on the east side. Don’t go to the wrong one, okay?”

After receiving the person’s reply, I deleted these two messages and put the phone back exactly where I found it next to Yvonne’s pillow. As I left the room, I looked at Yvonne’s oblivious face and felt a surge of emotions. You never truly know someone, even if you live with them. Who would have thought I was sharing a room with a wolf in sheep’s clothing! I had to get my revenge! I went to the kitchen and started searching for clues. Soon, I found two cans of milk powder in the food cabinet. The only difference was that one can had my name taped to it. It seemed Yvonne was afraid of mixing them up, ensuring I would always drink the drugged milk powder. I let out a cold laugh, then switched the labels on the cans and swapped their positions. To gather more evidence, I took out the hidden cameras I had bought online last month. Coincidentally, my makeup had been mysteriously disappearing. To get to the bottom of it, I had bought two mini cameras that I hadn’t used yet. I went back to Yvonne’s room and hid one of the cameras in the eye of the teddy bear facing her bed.

I locked my door and quietly waited for the person to arrive. Just after 10 PM, I heard the sound of the front door opening. My heart immediately started racing. The person tiptoed towards our bedrooms. After a moment’s hesitation, they pushed open Yvonne’s door. My heart was pounding. After the door closed, I turned on the surveillance feed. The man was burly. When he saw Yvonne sleeping on the bed, he couldn’t help but swallow hard. “Damn, she’s so young and fresh,” he muttered. Without wasting any more time, the man eagerly pounced on her. What followed was an extremely disturbing scene. I turned off the camera in disgust. Half an hour later, I heard the door opening and closing again. Soon after, the person left our apartment. I finally let out a sigh of relief. I gently opened my door and saw a stack of cash on the coffee table in the living room. Through the slightly open door, I could see Yvonne still sleeping soundly. Her clothes and bedding had been tidied up, looking no different from when she went to sleep. I felt relieved. Now, it was time for Yvonne to get a taste of what I had experienced in my previous life.

Early the next morning, Yvonne saw the cash on the coffee table and started counting it with satisfaction. “Yvonne, where did this money come from?” I asked curiously. Yvonne turned to look at me with a cryptic smile. “Oh, this is from my part-time job,” Yvonne said, her tone containing a barely noticeable hint of amusement. I nodded, rubbing my sore neck. “Yvonne, I woke up this morning feeling achy all over. I wonder if I had sleep paralysis or something. I’m a bit scared. When the lease is up next month, I’m thinking about moving out.” “No way!” Yvonne exclaimed urgently. Realizing her reaction was off, Yvonne quickly put on a smile. “Lily, aren’t we good living together? Besides, I’d be scared living alone.” Yvonne clung to my arm, acting coy. “But,” I furrowed my brow in concern, “our company is still behind on our wages. I was thinking of moving to a cheaper place.” Naturally, Yvonne didn’t want to lose her cash cow. “Come on, Lily, please stay with me. How about I help you with the rent?” Yvonne suggested, clearly calculating. Compared to her daily illicit income, the thousand-dollar rent seemed trivial. This was perfect, allowing me to save up more money to move out sooner. “Alright then, thank you, Yvonne,” I said, hugging her with a smile. A flash of mockery and triumph crossed Yvonne’s face. The corners of my mouth turned up in a wild grin. Soon, Yvonne would receive her just punishment.

n the days that followed, Yvonne made me a cup of hot milk every night. To allay my suspicions, she would drink with me each time. After drinking the milk, Yvonne always slept exceptionally well. Sometimes she would grow suspicious, but I always managed to brush it off. Plus, with the cash appearing on the coffee table every morning as promised, Yvonne couldn’t be bothered to think too much about it. Meanwhile, in Yvonne’s evil group chat, many people were sharing their success stories. Including Yvonne. “My roommate is as dumb as a pig. I give her drugged milk, and she drinks it happily, lying there making money for me without a clue,” Yvonne boasted proudly. The group members praised her cleverness. Thanks to Yvonne’s promotion, more and more people came to her for “business.” Yvonne’s pockets grew increasingly full. Her attitude towards me became even worse. After all, in her mind, I was nothing but a cheap slut. I didn’t care at all. I lurked in the group chat, saving all the incriminating evidence. I was just waiting for the day when everything would come crashing down, ready to destroy all these vermin in one fell swoop. And it seemed Yvonne’s downfall was coming sooner than expected.

“What are you looking at? Have you no shame?” Yvonne started arguing with Butcher Bill at the farmers’ market. It all began because Butcher Bill kept leering at Yvonne. Yvonne couldn’t stand it anymore and started a fight with him in the middle of the market. “You old pervert, haven’t you ever seen a woman before? What are you staring at?” Yvonne yelled, hands on her hips, pointing her finger right in Butcher Bill’s face. Butcher Bill, in his forties and built like a tank, flushed red with anger at being berated by a young girl in public. “Young lady, watch your mouth,” Butcher Bill said, his face darkening. Yvonne, never one to back down when she thought she was right, got even more fired up seeing the crowd gathering around them. “I thought you looked like an honest man, but you’re actually so disgusting. I’m young enough to be your daughter, you old lecher. Stop staring or you’ll go blind!” Yvonne’s tone was particularly harsh. Butcher Bill was feeling embarrassed under the crowd’s scrutiny. “Get on your knees and apologize!” Yvonne demanded, ignoring Butcher Bill’s murderous glare. “You slut, you think you’re still a pure virgin? Who knows how many men have had you, and you still have the nerve to act like an innocent little flower!” Butcher Bill exploded, pointing at Yvonne and letting loose. Hearing such humiliating words, Yvonne became even more enraged. “Are you spreading dirty rumors about me?” Yvonne glared, threatening to call the police. Butcher Bill sneered, “Rumors? You have a red birthmark below your belly button, right? And three moles on your butt.” At these words, Yvonne was stunned. These were indeed marks on her body. “You… how the hell do you know that?” Yvonne was shocked. Butcher Bill just smiled meaningfully. The crowd around them grew even more excited hearing such juicy gossip. They all thought it was some scandalous affair. Yvonne fell silent. I stood by, quietly observing. Suddenly, Yvonne jerked her head up, glaring fiercely at Butcher Bill: “You fucking old pervert, have you been peeping on me in the shower?!”

At these words, not only Butcher Bill but even I was stunned. After thinking for so long, this was the conclusion Yvonne had come to. Butcher Bill opened his mouth, but before he could defend himself, Yvonne exploded. “You shameless creep! No wonder you can’t have a son! You scumbag!” Yvonne grabbed a chunk of pork from the chopping board and hurled it at Butcher Bill. In an instant, the entire farmers’ market was in chaos, with pork flying everywhere. Butcher Bill dodged the flying meat while glaring viciously at Yvonne. But Yvonne, completely oblivious to the murderous intent in Butcher Bill’s eyes, continued throwing meat and cursing. Seeing the situation getting out of hand, I grabbed Yvonne’s arm. “Yvonne, stop fighting here. It’s embarrassing. Let’s go home,” I said, trying to persuade Yvonne while dragging her out of the crowd. Yvonne kept cursing as we left, while Butcher Bill’s eyes grew colder by the second. Back home, Yvonne was still fuming. “Damn it, ran into a ghost when I went out. What rotten luck!” Yvonne angrily swept the cups off the coffee table. I watched silently as she raged. Why was Butcher Bill leering at Yvonne? Why did he know about the birthmarks on Yvonne’s body? That’s because Butcher Bill was one of Yvonne’s “clients.” The information in the group chat was confidential, so Yvonne didn’t know that the person she had arranged was Butcher Bill. But Butcher Bill had seen everything clearly. After being humiliated by Yvonne today, would he just let it go? Just after dinner, that evil group chat started buzzing with activity. A user named “Rainy Night Butcher” openly tagged Yvonne: “I’m coming to your place again tonight.”

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I followed James for seven years, living frugally, and finally saved our first million dollars. In this vast New York City, we could finally have a place to call our own. But on the day we were supposed to pay the deposit, James withdrew all the money from our joint account. I called him repeatedly: “Where’s the money? Why did you take out all of our savings?” He replied, “I can’t ignore Lily’s situation. You know she’s like a sister to me.” “She needs this money more than we do.” I looked at the woman in front of me, wearing a silk nightgown, every hair in place. Then I glanced at myself, worn out after seven years, wearing a wrinkled old sweater. Suddenly, I woke up. The determination to end this seven-year relationship filled me at that moment. “James, where’s the money? Why did you withdraw all of it without saying a word?” I shouted as soon as I entered the apartment, filled with anger. James got up from the couch and brought a cake to me: “Emma, I bought your favorite chestnut cake. Have a slice and calm down.” I stared into his eyes and asked again: “I’m asking you where the money went?” He avoided my gaze: “You know, Lily was scammed recently and got into online debt.” James lowered his voice and continued: “She even… sent her nude photos to someone as collateral.” “They said if she doesn’t pay back soon, they’ll send the photos to her friends and family.” “You’re a woman too, you should understand what this means for a girl, right?” I felt weak all over: “Did you give her everything?” I pounded on James’s chest: “You knew very well that was our seven-year savings for buying a house!” At this moment, Lily came out of the bathroom. Fresh out of the shower, Lily’s skin was fair and radiant. Her bare face looked clean and beautiful, with large innocent eyes that made her look particularly pitiful. Not just James, even I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her when I saw her. She spoke with a hint of tears, looking at me: “It’s all my fault. Sister, please don’t fight with James. He was just trying to help me.” “I only borrowed a few thousand dollars, but in just two months, they’re asking me to pay back hundreds of thousands. Where would I get that kind of money?” I looked at her, wearing a silk nightgown that made her look very refined. Then I looked at myself, wearing a sweater I’d had for five years, wrinkled like a cleaning rag, looking more like sleepwear than her actual nightgown. I took deep breaths, trying to expel the anger building up in my chest. But I still felt extremely frustrated. Seeing me like this, James wanted to say something more but didn’t dare. After hesitating several times, he finally spoke: “By the way, Emma, there’s something I want to discuss with you.” “Lily hasn’t paid rent for two months and was kicked out by her landlord.” “She’s a girl, and she has nowhere to go.” “Can we… can we let her stay with us for a few days?” I looked around and noticed several suitcases in the living room that weren’t there before. I didn’t respond, just walked into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Discuss? He took all our money to pay off Lily’s loan and directly brought her to our home. Which of these things did he actually discuss with me? 0

James and I had been together for seven years. When I was interviewing for my first job in New York City, I almost arrived late because the subway system was so confusing with all its twists and turns. I wandered around for ages without finding the right exit. In desperation, I grabbed a random person on the street to ask for directions. As it turned out, this person worked at the company where I was interviewing and directly took me there. Later, we became colleagues, and then we became a couple. New York City can feel like a cold place, but because of him, these seven years have had a bit of warmth. He wasn’t just my boyfriend; he was also my dining companion, movie buddy, and travel partner. After getting together, like many people in New York, we started saving money, eagerly anticipating the day when we could have our own little nest among the city’s dazzling lights. To save up for a down payment on a house, we lived frugally for seven years, leaving early and returning late every day, never missing a day of work, not even taking a single sick day. On rainy days in the run-down neighborhood, the narrow alleys would be filled with muddy water, making my shoes dirty. Walking through it so often, even my obsession with cleanliness seemed to have worn away. On social media, people our age were traveling to various places, seeing beautiful sights, and eating all kinds of delicious food. During holidays, we only dared to stay in our damp, dark little room, sharing a single portion of cheap takeout between the two of us. During these seven years, James would often stroke my head and say with concern in his eyes: “Emma, I’m sorry you have to struggle like this with me.” “Once we buy a house, we’ll get married right away, and I promise I’ll treat you well.” Every time I saw the sincerity in his eyes, I felt it was all worth it. But now that all the money had been given to Lily to pay off her debt, we couldn’t buy the house anymore. Would we still get married? A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. James came in with a cup of hot chocolate: “I’m sorry, please don’t be angry, okay?” He put the hot drink on the table and tried to hug me. Seeing the apologetic look in his eyes, in the past, I might have softened. But this time, I found the person in front of me repulsive. Being with James for so many years, his good qualities were obvious. He wasn’t flirtatious and was quite family-oriented. He was good to me and my family too. When my dad suddenly had a heart attack, if it wasn’t for him, I might have just panicked helplessly. But all his maturity and rationality seemed to disappear when it came to Lily. Thinking about how he had repeatedly favored Lily in the past, I felt anger rising inside me. I avoided him and crawled into bed. He seemed a bit helpless: “Don’t always be like this.” “That money… I’ll find a way to earn it back. If I have to, I’ll drive for Uber or deliver food after work.” “You know, Lily grew up with me. When we were poor, her parents helped our family a lot. When her dad passed away, he asked me to take good care of her. Now that she’s in such big trouble, how can I just stand by and do nothing?” “You can understand that, right?” James cared for his childhood friend, but where did he put me when he was protecting her? Lily ate and dressed well every day. If she had borrowed money to save a life or do something meaningful, I could still understand. But she only borrowed money to satisfy her vanity, buying luxury bags and traveling everywhere. How could I understand that? I looked into James’s eyes, tears welling up: “What about me?” “I struggled with you for seven years, and now we have nothing left. Did you think about me?” We stood in silent confrontation. Suddenly, I felt utterly exhausted. I grabbed my pajamas and ran to the bathroom, hoping a shower would help alleviate the frustration in my chest. After showering and returning to the room, I found Lily sitting on my bed watching a TV series, occasionally bursting into laughter. For me, today felt like the sky had fallen. For her, it seemed like nothing had happened. Her laughter was grating, as if mocking me for being a fool all these years. I walked straight up to her and said only two words: “Get out.” 0

Lily looked up in shock, giving me an innocent look. James, hearing the commotion, came in from the living room. Seeing James, Lily’s eyes welled up with tears: “I’m sorry, sister. I thought James had told you I’d be sleeping with you tonight.” “If you don’t want me to sleep here, I’ll leave right away.” James pressed his lips together: “Didn’t Lily always sleep with you when she came over before?” “Besides, we only have one bedroom, there’s no other option.” “You two squeeze in for tonight, and first thing tomorrow morning, I’ll take a day off to help Lily find a place.” I coldly repeated: “Get out.” “Both of you, get out.” I’ve always been mild-mannered, so when James saw me like this, he knew I was truly angry. He signaled to Lily with his eyes, indicating that they should leave. Seeing this, Lily started gathering her bedding while sobbing. As they left and closed the door, my tears finally fell uncontrollably down my cheeks. These tears were so bitter. Half for finally seeing my place in James’s heart, half for my seven years of youth. I don’t know what time I fell asleep, but as soon as the alarm went off, I habitually got up. After so many years, I had been trained into a qualified corporate slave, and a qualified corporate slave goes to work no matter what happens, no matter how upset they are. Opening the bedroom door, I saw Lily and James also getting ready for work. Today’s weather matched my mood – pouring rain. Lily looked out the window and whined to James, “Let’s take a cab today, okay?” “Our offices are on the same route anyway, it won’t cost much. Fifty dollars should be enough to get there.” James’s eyes were full of indulgence as he took out his phone and called a cab without hesitation. James looked at my puffy and swollen eyes, a flash of concern crossing his face: “Emma, come with us. It’s raining heavily today.” I shook my head and went to wash up. For the past seven years, to save money, I never took a cab, whether it was raining or even during a typhoon. Several times I had already opened the ride-hailing app and entered the starting location, but seeing the fare displayed on my phone, I would steel myself, grab an umbrella, and walk a mile to take the bus instead. Thinking back now, although James always said he felt sorry for me, he never actively offered to call a car for me. As I reached the ground floor, I seemed to see my past self wearing rain boots, carefully holding an umbrella, but still getting splashed all over by passing cars, looking utterly miserable. The rain was getting heavier, fine droplets landing on my body, adding a chill to my heart. This time, I called a car for myself. 0

For the next few days, not wanting to see them, I left early and returned late every day. On Saturday, while I was still thinking about how to avoid them, I woke up to find they had already gone out. In the evening, James sent me a message: “No need to cook tonight, I’ll bring food back for you.” Since I didn’t feel like cooking anyway, I didn’t refuse. Around 8 PM, James and Lily returned with several bags. Their laughter could be heard even before they entered the apartment. James put the takeout on the dining table: “Emma, I brought you some Japanese food. Come and eat.” These past few days, James had been trying to please me, either consciously or unconsciously. I didn’t know if he genuinely felt he had done something wrong, or if he was just placating me, hoping I would end the cold war quickly. I glanced at the bags they brought back. The orange Louis Vuitton shopping bag was particularly eye-catching. Lily took out the LV handbag from the bag, showing it off in front of me: “Sister, isn’t this bag beautiful?” “James bought it for me, saying it’s to celebrate my escape from the threats of those loan sharks.” James noticed my gaze and said sheepishly: “You didn’t go today, so another day I’ll take you shopping and buy you one too.” I looked at the bag hanging on the back of the door, which I had bought from a second-hand platform and had been using for five years, and suddenly found it somewhat amusing. One year on my birthday, James said he wanted to buy me a luxury handbag as a birthday gift. His regular salary was mostly deposited into our joint account, leaving him with little money for himself. The money he said he would use to buy me a bag was his overtime pay for half a year. I felt sorry for him and thought that for a handbag, a second-hand one would be fine. So I told him to buy one from a second-hand website. Now that I think about it, I was wrong. In all these years with James, I had placed myself too low. Because I loved him, I always thought more about him, always felt that being together meant working hard towards a common goal. I always thought James felt the same way. I always thought he couldn’t bear to take me to nice restaurants, couldn’t bear to give me expensive things, couldn’t bear to go out and play with me, because he wanted to save money to give me a home. But I was terribly mistaken. As time went on, he only came to think that I didn’t deserve these things, that there was no need to spend money or effort buying these things for me, and that I would always stay by his side anyway. At this moment, it was as if I suddenly woke up. No longer hysterical, no longer trying to evoke his love through the cold war. I quietly walked to the dining table and put the scattered pieces of sushi, which looked like their leftovers, into my mouth. The determination to end this seven-year relationship filled me at this moment. After eating, I slowly spoke: “Weren’t you supposed to be looking for an apartment? When are you moving out?” 0

Lily’s tears came on cue: “Sister, I’m sorry for disturbing you two.” “We haven’t found a place yet.” “If you really don’t want me to stay here, I can go crash at a friend’s place for a few days starting tomorrow.” Although Lily seemed to be talking to me, her eyes were on James. I reminded her: “Okay, remember to pack all your things.” Lily glanced at James and started packing. Her sobbing sounded particularly loud in the quiet room. James grabbed Lily’s hand: “Don’t mind her.” Then he turned to look at me, frowning: “Emma, haven’t you had enough?” “It’s been days, and you’re still walking around with that sour face. Who are you trying to impress?” “Why are you being so petty?” “I’ve already explained everything to you nicely. Lily is like a sister to me. She just escaped from danger, can’t she stay here for a few days until we find her a place? It’s dangerous for a girl to be out there alone, who knows if she might get scammed again.” “Do you have to make everyone so uncomfortable?” Originally, I just wanted to quietly sort out everything between us and then part ways gracefully. But since James insisted on laying it all out like this, I’d play along. I glared at James: “Sister, you say sister, right?” “Giving her all the money we saved for seven years, being at her beck and call anytime, even running to her when I was sick, that kind of sister?” “You two clearly have something going on, yet you hide behind the facade of being siblings, flirting ambiguously.” “Am I your backup plan? Or am I here to highlight how well-matched you two are, how in sync, how good your relationship is?” Guilt, nervousness, and awkwardness intertwined on James’s face. He transformed these unmanageable emotions into a slap across my face. It also completely shattered our seven years of relationship.

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