Category: English

1 The day my family went bankrupt, I dragged my father back from the rooftop. Turning around, I accepted Lucien’s proposal, but for the dowry, I demanded two million dollars. He was silent for three seconds, then chuckled, “Deal.” Yet, barely half a year into our marriage, he brought his young mistress home. Before I could even react, he tossed our prenuptial agreement in my face. “Don’t get confused about your place. Didn’t you already sell yourself to me back then? That price, it should be enough to buy your subservience for a lifetime, shouldn’t it?” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my flesh, but I was powerless to retort. It wasn’t until I had a threatened miscarriage, and the medical bill was short by exactly fourteen dollars, that I truly broke. Over the phone, his voice was dismissive: “Didn’t I already pay you what I owed before we got married? What, did you get addicted to being a gold-digger?” He then turned around and spent fourteen million dollars on a necklace for his new lover, a gift for her first night with him. Facing the nurse’s urgent prompt, I forced a smile through my tears. “Forget the medicine. Please schedule me for an abortion.” A marriage bought for two million dollars, it was time for it to end. … No sooner had the words left my lips than a bank transfer notification popped up on my phone. Not a cent more, not a cent less—exactly fourteen dollars. The transfer note contained just a few simple words: “Buy your medicine. Don’t disgrace the Reed name.” I tugged at my lips, a bitter, lifeless smile. Fourteen dollars was enough to cover that specific medical bill, but not enough for the abortion procedure. I knew Lucien wouldn’t give me any more money. I had no choice but to swallow my pride and reach out to old friends, hoping to borrow three hundred and seventeen dollars. With that, combined with the money I had and Lucien’s fourteen dollars, it would just cover the cost of a standard abortion. But when the messages were sent, replies quickly came in. “Oh, is the great Ms. Evans short on cash? Did two million dollars run out that fast?” “Tsk, tsk, if you hadn’t haggled like that back then and broken Lucien’s heart, you wouldn’t be shamelessly begging for a few hundred dollars now!” A torrent of mocking messages flooded my screen. But they no longer stung my heart as they once did. In a way, I had become numb, accustomed to it. Accustomed to Lucien treating our marriage as a transaction, and me as an item he’d purchased for two million. Accustomed to his friends’ sneers and sarcastic remarks, finding new ways to call me a gold-digger. Accustomed to the embarrassment of an empty wallet, repeatedly trampling my dignity to beg Lucien for charity. In truth, at first, I thought I had hands and feet, I could surely cover my normal expenses. I might even save two million to repay the money I’d borrowed from Lucien under the guise of a dowry. But Lucien had cut off every path for me to earn money. “I’ve already paid two million to buy out the rest of your life. From now on, your time, your freedom, are mine.” He used the tactic of forcing me to beg him for money to vent his resentment towards me. He hated me for treating our love as a bargaining chip for money, believing I had deceived him for three years, only to reveal my true colors for cash. I had explained many times, but he never had the patience to listen. “What’s the point of so many excuses?” he’d say. “You asked for the money. We’ve become this way, and you only have yourself to blame.” My phone suddenly chimed. Someone had transferred me three hundred and seventy-one dollars, saying it was a “reward” for how satisfying it was to insult me. I wiped the coldness from my face, smiled at the nurse, and said, “I can pay now. Please arrange the procedure for me as soon as possible.” But I didn’t have enough money for a pain pump. I could only lie wide awake on the cold operating table, feeling cold sweat slowly soak my hair and back. I could even clearly feel the instruments entering my body, scraping repeatedly inside. As the tearing pain hit, I thought of Lucien again. He once held me in his arms, gently stroking my head. “After we get married, we can have a child. Boy or girl, I’ll love you both with my life.” But when I actually became pregnant, he said: “Alright, how much money are you going to demand for the child this time?” No more, Lucien. I want nothing more. Money, love, and you—I want none of it. After an unbearable amount of time, the surgery finally ended. As the instruments withdrew, the surrounding sounds gradually returned. The nurse unfastened the restraints on my legs and helped me to an observation bed for half an hour. I stared blankly at the dark sky outside the window, tears falling one by one. Suddenly, a solitary firework shot up, bursting into bloom in the sky. Then, a city-wide display of brilliant fireworks followed. I watched the night sky, bright as day, in a daze. I overheard the envious whispers of a few young nurses: “Did you hear? CEO Reed specially arranged this for his sweetheart! His girlfriend is so lucky!” “Oh, what girlfriend? CEO Reed has a wife! But I heard she’s a gold-digger. She’s doing worse than his household staff now!” On the way home, I dragged my aching lower body, each step a struggle. An empty taxi pulled up in front of me, rolling down its window to ask where I was going. I waved my hand with difficulty. “No need.” I couldn’t afford the fare. So, step by step, I walked towards the house, ten miles away. Along the way, many people were reminiscing and marveling at tonight’s grand firework display. “It was so beautiful! If someone could set off fireworks like that for me, my life would be complete, boohoohoo!” “What are you dreaming about? Do you think everyone is CEO Reed’s girlfriend? Look at that woman, her face is so pale, and no one cares for her either!” I instinctively looked up at the two young girls whispering. They instantly blushed, quickly saying they didn’t mean anything, and asked if I needed help. I shook my head with a smile. What I wanted to say was, I once had fireworks like that too. Once, I had someone who cared. That was the day Lucien proposed to me. He knelt before me, holding a ring in one hand, his eyes red. “Clara, you’re the most special girl I’ve ever met. I’m willing to spend my life cherishing and loving you.” “Will you marry me?” Behind him, fireworks more dazzling than today’s erupted. But at that moment, I had just pulled my despairing father back from the rooftop. Creditors were still besieging my house, threatening my mother and seven-year-old sister if I didn’t pay them back immediately. I had no choice. So I could only say to him, “Lucien, can you… lend me two million dollars?” His expression instantly turned cold, the deep affection in his eyes slowly receding. He slowly stood up, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips. “Everyone says you’re with me to climb the social ladder. At first, I didn’t believe it.” “Clara Evans, you’re truly patient. You waited until I proposed to you, until it was public knowledge, to show your true colors.” He scoffed, raising his hand to stop the fireworks. He pulled a check from his pocket and threw it at my face. “Fine, you’re quite cheap, too.” From that day on, our relationship soured. No matter how much I explained, I couldn’t shed the label of “gold-digger.” With Lucien’s tacit approval, I became the most pathetic joke in the entire city’s elite circles. Even his housekeeper earned thirty thousand dollars a month, while I had to beg him for even three dollars. I kept enduring, hoping that one day his anger would subside, and he would listen to my explanation. Until the first time he brought another woman home, I completely lost it. But he merely looked at me indifferently, asking what right I had to be angry with him. He said he had already paid to buy our marriage, and even if he brought a hundred women home, it was my own doing. In that moment, my heart was shredded, yet I couldn’t utter a single word in my own defense. Against the bitter wind of early winter, I walked for six hours, finally arriving home at one AM. Pushing open the front door, the house was filled with comfortable warmth. Just as I was about to use my last bit of strength to walk to the bedroom, I heard a girl’s sweet voice from the sofa. “Sister’s back! Where’s my candy apple?” I looked at the delicate girl in Lucien’s arms, startled, and instinctively asked, “What candy apple?” “Stop playing dumb! Didn’t I message you to buy a candy apple for Maya when you came back?” Lucien sneered, sizing me up. “I spent so much money, and you can’t even fulfill such a small request?” My phone had already died. I bit my lip, forcing out a reply. “Buy your own.” Perhaps my cold attitude angered Lucien. He sprang up from the sofa, looking at me testily. “What, you want money again? Didn’t I just give you fourteen dollars? That’s enough for a candy apple, isn’t it?” “Go buy it right now! If you can’t get one, don’t come back!” I looked at him, incredulous. In the past six months, this wasn’t the first time Lucien had spoken to me in such a tone. I thought I was already numb. But a dull ache spread through my chest, even more devastating than the cramping in my abdomen. Outside, it was only a few degrees, and even through the window, I could hear the howling wind. It was past one AM. Where was I supposed to buy a candy apple? Seeing me frozen in place, Lucien scoffed. “What, still not moving? You want more money?” Lucien mockingly pulled a red bill from his wallet and threw it on the floor without looking. “Is this enough?” He paused, sizing me up as if searching for something. “You asked me for money tonight, saying you needed medicine. Where’s the medicine?” “Clara Evans, you’re truly unscrupulous for money now. Are you lying even about fourteen dollars?” Medicine? The baby was gone, what use was medicine? Before I could speak, Lucien waved over a bodyguard, who roughly pushed me out the door. Through the door, his voice sounded even colder. “If you can’t buy a candy apple, you can stay outside all night.” Then, I heard a light, coquettish female voice, followed by intimate, suggestive sounds. I instinctively wanted to get away from that sound, but I didn’t even have the strength to walk. I could only lean against the door and slowly squat down, sitting on the steps outside. The biting cold wind seeped in through my collar, thoroughly chilling my already lifeless heart. In a daze, I heard the door open behind me. The next second, Lucien’s anxious curse: “Clara Evans, are you crazy?! Can’t you find somewhere warm?!” “What’s the point of playing the victim?!” Then, I seemed to fall into a warm embrace. I thought it must be a hallucination. Lucien hated me so much now, he wouldn’t worry about me. I don’t know how long I slept, but when I opened my eyes, I saw Lucien’s ashen face. “Finally stopped pretending? It’s just a candy apple. Do you have to put on a show for me?” “What, do you want the world to know you were pregnant and almost froze to death at the Reed’s doorstep, so you can demand more money?” I opened my mouth, wanting to retort. But my throat was dry and painfully scratchy. Lucien looked away, no longer at me, and shouted out the door, “Where’s the family doctor? Why isn’t he here yet?!” “Don’t let her die in my house!” Tears silently streamed from the corners of my eyes. Lucien, what exactly do you want? You’re the one who hated me so much you wished me dead, and now you’re the one who’s afraid I’ll die. I closed my eyes, my voice hoarse and unpleasant: “Lucien, let’s get a divorce.” He spun around, as if he’d heard a joke. “Divorce? Fine. You give me back two million, and I’ll agree to a divorce.” He seemed to remember something suddenly, paused, then scoffed. “I know what it is. You think you can extort more money now that you’re pregnant with my child, don’t you?” “Tell me, how much do you want this time? Two million? Or five million?” I couldn’t hold back the injustice any longer, blurting out, “Our baby is already gone—” However, before I could finish, Maya’s exaggerated retching suddenly came from outside the door. Just then, the family doctor rushed in. After a series of examinations, the doctor hesitated before speaking: “Mr. Reed, Ms. Maya Sterling appears to be pregnant.” Boom! Something seemed to collapse completely at that moment.

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“Babe, did the bonus hit your account yet?” Ryan’s text message arrived five seconds before the notification from my bank. $120,000. After taxes, it was a clean $87,300. Before I could even screenshot it for him, another message buzzed through. “Perfect timing. I’ve got a sure-fire investment lined up, 18% annual return. Can you wire over $80,000?” I stared at the screen, a sudden chill creeping over me. In five years of marriage, this was the third time he’d asked me for a large sum of money. The first time, for a “startup.” $20,000. The second, to “pay off a debt.” $15,000. And now, this. I didn’t reply. Instead, I opened my banking app and transferred the entire $87,300 into a savings account he knew nothing about. Then, I texted him back. “The company’s tightening its belt this year. They’ve delayed the bonuses.” Three minutes later, Ryan called. I declined it. Two hours after that, I walked into our apartment. His side of the closet was empty. The small cash box we kept in the nightstand was gone. Even the heirloom gold bracelet my mother had given me was missing. I stood in the center of our bedroom and, to my own surprise, I laughed. Five years. It took five years for the fox to finally show its tail. 1 I didn’t call the police. And I didn’t call Ryan. I just stood there, in the middle of our ransacked bedroom, and methodically took a picture of every drawer pulled open, every item disturbed. All his clothes from the closet were gone. But my cashmere coat, the one he’d told me was “too expensive, don’t buy it,” was crumpled on the floor with two muddy footprints ground into the fabric. The nightstand had been pried open. It used to hold two things of value: my emergency cash fund of $12,000, and my mother’s savings bonds, worth another $8,000. She’d given them to me before she passed. All gone. I knelt, my hand sweeping under the bed, and my fingers brushed against a crumpled piece of paper. A receipt. From three days ago. Airline tickets. Two of them. To Miami. I stared at the two names printed in stark black ink: Ryan Peterson, and Zoe Reed. Zoe Reed. I’d seen that name before. It was on his phone once, a notification that flashed on the screen. Can’t wait, Ry. He told me she was just a new intern at his firm who’d added the wrong person. I believed him. Looking back now, I must have been blind. My phone rang, shattering the silence. It was Sarah. “Anna, where are you? It’s your birthday! The girls are all waiting for you at the bar!” I glanced at the calendar on my phone. January 18th. My 32nd birthday. “I…” I started, but the words caught in my throat. I didn’t know what to say. Sarah’s tone shifted instantly. “What’s wrong? What happened? Don’t move, I’m on my way.” Thirty minutes later, Sarah stood in my doorway, her face turning to stone as she took in the chaos of the apartment. “He ran?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. “Yeah.” “How much did he take?” “The $20,000 from the nightstand, my mom’s gold bracelet, and…” I hesitated. “Whatever was left in his own checking account, maybe five or six thousand.” Sarah stomped her foot in fury. “I told you that man was a snake! I told you not to marry him, but you wouldn’t listen! And now look!” I stayed silent. Then a sudden thought struck her. “Wait, what about your bonus? The $87,000?” I pulled out my phone, opened the banking app, and showed her the balance. $87,300. “It’s safe,” I said. Sarah let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God for that.” I sank onto the sofa, my mind a tangled mess. “What was his endgame? For just twenty grand?” Sarah sat beside me, a bitter scoff escaping her lips. “You really think it was just about the twenty grand? Anna, think about how much you’ve spent on him over the last five years.” I froze. When I actually did the math, the numbers were staggering. The down payment on our apartment: $80,000 from my savings. The renovations: another $40,000, all me. His two “business ventures” and “debts”: a combined $35,000. And that didn’t even include the five years of groceries, bills, and vacations. “He’s drained you for hundreds of thousands, at least,” Sarah said, her voice softening as she watched my face. “Anna, you’re just too trusting.” I didn’t argue. She was right. My dad died when I was young, and my mom raised me on her own. Before she passed, she told me the thing she worried about most was me. She said I was too soft, my heart too easily swayed. When Ryan was trying to win me over, he was the perfect gentleman. He’d wait outside my office every day, bring me an umbrella when it rained, and cook soup for me when I was sick. My mom met him once and said, “He seems like such a steady, honest guy. You won’t get hurt with him.” Honest? I glanced at the plane ticket receipt on the floor. The irony was a physical ache in my chest. My phone rang again. It was him. Ryan. I answered, and his voice was as warm and gentle as always. “Hey, babe. Are you off work yet?” “Yeah.” “Okay, well, you’ll have to grab dinner on your own tonight. The office sent me on a last-minute business trip. It’s urgent, I’ll probably be gone for a week.” A business trip? For a week? I looked at his empty half of the closet and felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up inside me. “Okay. You take care of your work.” “You get some rest. Love you.” “You too.” I hung up. Sarah, who had heard the whole conversation, was staring at me, utterly aghast. “He still has the nerve to call you? And lie about a business trip?!” “He doesn’t know I came home early.” My voice was eerily calm as I placed the phone on the coffee table. My mind had never felt clearer. “He thinks I’m out with you guys celebrating my birthday, that I’ll be home late.” “So he timed this…” Sarah’s face grew darker. “He must think the bonus already hit your account, and by the time you found out he was gone, the money would be gone too.” I nodded slowly. If I hadn’t felt that sudden flicker of suspicion and moved the $87,300. If my office hadn’t let everyone leave two hours early today. If I hadn’t canceled my own birthday drinks. I would have come home to an apartment stripped bare, without a single dollar left to my name. I stood up and walked to the window, looking down at the glittering city lights below. On my 32nd birthday, my husband had taken my life savings and run off to Miami with another woman. And I didn’t even have the energy to cry. There was only one thought, growing sharper and colder in my mind: Ryan, you think this is over? This is just the beginning. 2 I didn’t sleep. Sarah stayed with me all night. She helped me document everything that was missing, confirming the final tally. $20,000 in cash and bonds. My mother’s bracelet, which had been appraised at over $6,000. And about $3,000 in cash I kept in a drawer. Nearly $30,000 in total. “That bastard,” Sarah seethed, grinding her teeth. I sat on the sofa, scrolling through Ryan’s Instagram feed from the last two years. It was a highlight reel of our perfect marriage. A picture of a steak dinner: Best meal ever, cooked by my amazing wife! A smiling selfie of us: Happy four-year anniversary to the love of my life. Forever and always. A candid shot of me working on my laptop: My wife works so hard. Can’t wait to spoil her with her bonus! The pictures featured me, our home, the watch I bought him for his birthday, the $800 down jacket I’d splurged on for him. The comments were a chorus of admiration. “Ryan, you’re one lucky guy!” “Anna is the definition of a perfect wife!” “Couple goals right here!” Looking at it now made me want to vomit. Sarah leaned over my shoulder. “He’s a hell of an actor,” she said with a sneer. I kept scrolling down, then stopped abruptly. A post from three months ago. The caption read: Company retreat. The views are incredible. The photo was of him in the mountains, the location vague. But I recognized the blue button-down shirt I’d bought him last year. I zoomed in on the picture, my eyes scanning every detail. And there, in the bottom corner, was a hand. A woman’s hand, with perfectly manicured red nails, holding out a drink to him. I hadn’t noticed it at the time. Now, I knew. That hand had to belong to Zoe. “Do you know this Zoe Reed?” Sarah asked. “Never met her.” I shook my head, my mind racing. Ryan didn’t have a real job. He always told me he was an “independent investor,” but he never seemed to make any actual money. He’d contribute a few hundred dollars to our joint account each month, claiming it was his “income.” The rest of our lifestyle was funded entirely by me. So how did he meet this Zoe? He never let me touch his phone, but I knew his passcode—our wedding anniversary. He hadn’t changed it. He probably thought I’d never bother to check. I opened his texts and started scrolling back, all the way to the beginning of his conversation with Zoe. The first message was from eight months ago. “Hey, Ryan. It’s Zoe. Mark from the club gave me your number, said you could help me with some investments.” Investments? Ryan, giving financial advice? I kept reading, and with every message, the sick feeling in my stomach grew stronger. Two months later, the tone of their chats shifted. “Ry, I miss you so much.” “I know, baby. Just wait till I get through this.” “Is your wife good to you?” “She’s fine. Just too busy with work all the time. Doesn’t really have time for me.” “Poor you. I’ll take care of you from now on.” By the time I reached that message, my hands were shaking. Beside me, Sarah’s face had gone pale with rage. “Those two absolute pieces of trash!” I ignored her, my eyes glued to the screen as I scrolled further. A month ago, the conversation turned to money. “Zoe, how are the preparations going over there?” “Apartment is all set. Rent is cheap in Miami, only $2,000 a month for a year.” “Perfect. Once I get things sorted on my end, we can finally be together.” “What about her money?” “It’s coming. Her bonus lands at the end of the month. I’ll think of a way to get it from her then.” “You’re amazing, Ry.” “After five years, I know exactly how she thinks. All I have to do is ask, and she’ll give it to me.” I stared at those last few lines for a long, long time. Five years. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than his personal ATM. Suddenly, Sarah jabbed a finger at the screen. “Look at this one!” I followed her finger to a message from yesterday. “Babe, did the bonus hit your account yet?” That was the text he’d sent to me. Immediately after, he’d sent one to Zoe. “Should be any time now. Once it lands, I’ll tell her about the investment.” “What if she says no?” “No way. I’ve been playing this part for five years. What’s she going to do?” “But what if she gets suspicious?” “Her? She’s a fool. She believes anything I tell her.” A fool. He called me a fool. A strange, sharp laugh escaped my lips. Sarah jumped. “Anna? Don’t scare me. What are you laughing at?” I closed the phone and stood up. “I’m laughing at myself.” “What?” “Ryan was right.” I walked to the window and watched the sky slowly lighten from charcoal gray to a bruised purple. “I was a fool.” “But not anymore.” 3 The next morning, I took a personal day from work. Sarah insisted on staying with me, but I waved her off. “I don’t need a babysitter. I have things to do.” “What kind of things?” “I’m going to find out exactly what Ryan has been doing for the last five years.” Sarah hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Call me if you need anything.” After she left, I walked out of the apartment with a purpose. First stop: the bank. I bought our apartment before we were married, but we’d been paying the mortgage together since. Or so I thought. I requested a full statement of the mortgage payments. Over the past five years, I had paid $87,000 toward the principal. Ryan had paid… $3,000. And that was only in the first two years. For the last three, he hadn’t contributed a single cent. The bank teller looked at my face, her expression sympathetic. “Ma’am, is there anything else I can help you with?” “I need to see the transaction history for my husband’s accounts.” “I’m sorry, but for that, we’ll need authorization from the account holder himself.” “He’s missing,” I said flatly. The teller froze. I took a deep breath and slid my ID and our marriage certificate across the counter. “I suspect he’s been involved in fraudulent activity. I need your cooperation to investigate.” Her professional demeanor changed instantly. She consulted her supervisor, who then consulted the branch manager. Finally, the manager came over. “Ms. Peterson, based on the circumstances, we can provide you with a partial statement of his primary checking account.” “Thank you.” Half an hour later, I walked out of the bank with a thick stack of papers. Ryan had one main account, the one I transferred money into every month for his “expenses” and “investments.” Over the past five years, nearly $150,000 had been deposited into that account. All of it from me. And the withdrawals? Seventy percent was transferred to an account under the name “Zoe Reed.” Twenty percent was withdrawn as cash. Only a meager ten percent was used for actual daily expenses. I stared at Zoe’s name, a cold certainty settling in my gut. Second stop: the IRS service center. Ryan claimed to be an “investor,” but he had no registered company. I filed a request for our joint tax transcripts, and what I found was interesting. He hadn’t had any official W-2 or 1099 income reported for the last three years. He had no job. So where did the few hundred dollars he gave me each month come from? It must have been my own money, cycled back to me to keep up the illusion. My last stop was the county records office. I ran a property search under Ryan’s name. Nothing. But then, on a hunch, I ran one for Zoe Reed. Bingo. A one-bedroom condo, purchased two years ago, right here in the city. The down payment was $18,000. The mortgage was for $400,000. And the name listed as the primary payer on the mortgage application: Ryan Peterson. I stood on the steps of the records office, clutching the printout, the paper trembling in my hand. Two years ago. That was when Ryan had asked me for $20,000 for his “startup.” He used my money to buy his mistress a home. I took a deep, shuddering breath and pulled out my phone. I sent a text to Sarah. Find me the best divorce lawyer you know. Her reply was instant. What happened? What did you find? He used my money to buy his mistress a condo. I’m on it. 4 The lawyer’s name was Mark Davies. He was a college friend of Sarah’s and specialized in messy divorces and asset recovery. After reviewing the documents I’d brought, his brow furrowed. “Anna, your situation is… complex,” he said, his tone serious. “How so?” “First, the marital infidelity is clear. You have the text messages as proof, so that’s straightforward. Second, he illegally transferred marital assets to a third party. The amount is substantial, and you have grounds to demand it all back.” He paused, leaning forward. “The problem is, your husband has disappeared, and he’s likely drained his accounts. The money is probably gone.” “So what are my options?” “We file a police report for fraud and theft. Then we sue him.” “Is it enough for jail time?” “Based on the amount, absolutely. Fraud over thirty thousand dollars is a felony. He could face three to ten years.” I was silent for a moment, processing that. “Are there other ways?” Mark studied me, seeming to understand what I was really asking. “If you want to get the money back, the most effective way is to find him, or to find his assets.” “Assets?” “Property, vehicles, large bank accounts…” “I know about the condo,” I said, my voice hard. “It’s in her name, but he’s the one paying the mortgage.” Mark’s eyes lit up. “If you can prove the down payment and the mortgage payments came from your marital funds, we can argue that the condo is a marital asset.” “How do I prove that?” “Bank statements, transfer records, and…” He looked at me expectantly. “Any communication about the purchase.” I thought for a second, then opened my phone and scrolled through the screenshots of Ryan and Zoe’s texts. I found the one I was looking for. “Babe, I transferred the down payment. We finally have a place of our own.” “Oh, Ry, you’re the best!” “Anything for you. As soon as I get the rest of the money sorted out, it’s all yours.” I handed the phone to Mark. He read the exchange, a slow nod of approval on his face. “This text is crucial. It’s solid evidence.” “So what’s the next step?” “First, we file a police report. Second, we file a motion to freeze her assets, specifically that condo. Third, we file for divorce, demanding full return of assets and punitive damages for emotional distress.” I stood up, my mind set. “Okay. I’m going to the police station right now.” As I reached the door, Mark called out, “Anna.” “Yes?” “Prepare yourself,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “I’ve seen a lot of cases like this. The husband runs off with the money, and even after a long fight, the wife only gets a fraction of it back.” “I know,” I said, turning to face him. My voice was steady, without a trace of a waver. “But I’m not doing this just to get the money back.” “Then what are you doing it for?” “To make him pay.”

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Watching Rupert finish his tenth pineapple, I coldly presented the divorce papers. “Rupert, we’re getting a divorce.” Rupert paused, his hand still reaching for a napkin to wipe his fingers. “Darling, what’s this about now?” “You’ve eaten ten pineapples in three days,” I stated. Rupert chuckled, reaching out to stroke my hair as he always did. “These past few days, the pineapples haven’t been that good, so I didn’t save you any. How about this, to make amends with my princess, I’ll take you shopping for a designer bag tomorrow? What do you say?” I lowered my eyes, a bitter taste in my mouth. In three years of marriage, he had never once lost his temper with me. Even when I threw petty tantrums, he would patiently buy me gifts, apologize, and make amends. But this time, I stepped back, calmly avoiding his hand. “No need. I’m just tired of it.” “Please sign quickly. If we get the divorce papers finalized now, you’ll still make it for your business trip tonight.” After all, the person who made him eat ten pineapples in three days was about to arrive at our doorstep. 1 Rupert’s smile froze. He looked at me, incredulous. “You’re divorcing me because I ate ten pineapples?” I turned and stared at him intently. “Yes, exactly because of that.” Rupert tugged irritably at his tie. “Alice Grey, stop fooling around. This business trip is important. Be a good girl and wait for me to come home.” I looked at him coldly. “I’m not fooling around.” Rupert frowned, about to say something, when the front door beeped with a password entry. Chelsea’s voice drifted in. “Rupert, the car’s downstairs. The CEO for this acquisition is very particular, we need to get there early to prepare the documents… Oh, Alice, you’re home too.” She slipped off her shoes, a pair of matching pink slippers that belonged to Rupert and me, and greeted me with a smile. Seeing Chelsea, Rupert’s brows instantly relaxed. He glanced at me, his tone softening slightly. “Chelsea’s here to pick me up. Alice, let’s talk about whatever it is when I get back from my trip. Don’t let outsiders laugh at us.” Chelsea naturally walked over to Rupert, reaching up to straighten his slightly crooked tie. Her movements were intimate, as practiced as if they were the true owners of this house. “Alice, don’t be mad at Rupert.” Chelsea smiled at me as she adjusted his tie. “Rupert’s been pulling all-nighters for days to rush this project. His appetite hasn’t been good, so he just wanted something sweet and sour.” “I specially arranged for those pineapples to be flown in from the south. I didn’t expect Rupert to like them so much.” She paused, her voice playful. “I accidentally overheard you arguing at the door. Alice, you’re not angry over such a small thing, are you?” I watched Rupert let her fuss over him, showing no intention of maintaining distance. I had brought it up before—Chelsea was the daughter of his grandfather’s war buddy, and his assistant, but there was still a clear line between men and women. What had Rupert said then? He said, “Chelsea lost her parents when she was young. She’s innocent and sees me as a big brother. If I push her away, how heartbroken would she be? Alice, you’re the most generous. Don’t fuss over a young girl.” I was generous for three years. In return, he gave all his patience and boundaries to another woman. “I’m not angry,” I said, looking at them, my voice very soft. “So, let’s get a divorce.” Chelsea’s hand froze. She gasped, covering her mouth. “Divorce? Alice, you’re not serious, are you? Rupert is so good to you. How can you treat marriage as a joke?” Rupert’s face completely darkened. He ripped off his tie, throwing it heavily onto the sofa. “Alice Grey, are you ever going to be done with this?” “In front of Chelsea, you just have to make me lose face, don’t you? I’ve explained it. The pineapples are because my appetite isn’t good, and Chelsea is doing her job. Can’t you be sensible?” The disappointment in his eyes stung my heart. In these three years, the word I heard most often was “sensible.” When Chelsea got a minor cut in the middle of the night, he abandoned me on my birthday to rush to the hospital, telling me to be sensible. When Chelsea had a breakup, he canceled our wedding anniversary trip to comfort her, telling me to be sensible. Now, even when I brought up divorce, he expected me to be sensible for his sake. “Sign the papers, and I’ll be sensible,” I said, handing him the pen. Rupert stared at me for a few seconds, then let out a cold laugh. “Fine, Alice Grey, you’ve really grown up.” He walked away without even glancing at the agreement. “Since that’s how it is, let’s both cool down. I’ll stay at the office for a while. When you’re done with your tantrum, I’ll come back.” Chelsea hurried after him. As she passed me, she paused, whispering in a voice only we could hear, “Alice, some things, if they’re not yours, holding onto them is useless. Pineapples are like that, and people are too.” Then, her heels clicking, she caught up with Rupert. “Rupert, wait for me, you forgot your stomach medicine…” The front door slammed shut. The house fell back into a deathly silence. I looked at the unsigned divorce papers on the coffee table. I didn’t take anything else. I left the house alone. This time, I wanted nothing. And I truly wouldn’t be coming back. I moved back to my parents’ house. In the past three years, I had rarely stayed here, busy taking care of Rupert’s every need. My parents’ expressions shifted from surprise to alarm when they saw me walk in with my suitcase. “Alice, what’s wrong? Did you argue with Rupert?” My mother took my suitcase, cautiously probing. I shook my head, tiredly changing my shoes. “No argument. I just wanted to come back and stay for a few days.” “Did Rupert bully you?” My father slammed down his newspaper. “If that boy dared to treat you badly, I wouldn’t let him get away with it!” “No,” I forced a smile. “He’s on a business trip. I was just bored at home by myself.” I hadn’t figured out how to tell them about the divorce. In my parents’ eyes, Rupert was the ideal son-in-law, a rare gem. Young, accomplished, gentle, and utterly devoted to me. Even during holidays, Rupert was unfailingly polite, charming all our relatives. In everyone’s eyes, marrying him was a step up, a fall into a life of good fortune. I was too tired to explain. I just wanted a good night’s sleep. But even that wish was a luxury. Less than half an hour after lying down, Rupert called. I didn’t want to answer, so I hung up. He called again. I hung up again. By the fifth time, I sighed and answered. “Alice Grey, where are you?” Rupert’s voice on the other end was choked with anger, the background noisy, like a social gathering. “I’m at my parents’ house,” I replied calmly. “Who told you to go back there?” Rupert’s voice rose a few octaves. “I’m only gone for two days on a business trip, and you run back to your parents to complain? How old are you, don’t you have any self-respect?” My fingers tightened slightly around the phone. “I didn’t complain. I just moved out.” “Moved out? What do you mean?” Rupert seemed startled, then his tone became even more impatient. “Are you really going to separate from me over a few measly pineapples? Alice Grey, my patience has limits.” “Mr. King!” Chelsea’s sweet voice came from the other end. “Mr. Thompson is toasting you. Please come over quickly.” Followed by a burst of cheers. “Mr. King is such a busy man, checking in with home even during a business dinner?” “Is the wife checking up on him? Let Assistant Chelsea explain to the wife.” Rupert covered the mouthpiece, his voice lowering slightly. “I’m entertaining right now. I don’t have time for your nonsense. There’s a charity gala tomorrow night. Dress appropriately, and I’ll pick you up. Don’t give me any attitude. This is important.” With that, he hung up without giving me a chance to refuse. Looking at the darkened screen, I felt no ripple of emotion. In the past, even a slightly harsh tone from him would have left me sad for half a day, making me wonder if I had truly done something wrong. Now, I just found it amusing. In his eyes, my departure, my divorce papers, were all just petty attempts to gain attention. All he had to do was offer a small olive branch, and I would gratefully crawl back. Unfortunately, this time he was wrong. The next evening, I didn’t go to the charity gala as he expected. I turned off my phone and went to the cinema alone to watch a film I had long wanted to see. Rupert never liked these art-house films, finding them boring. Every time I wanted to go, I’d end up compromising and watching a commercial blockbuster with him. Or, sometimes, I’d be stood up entirely because of a call from Chelsea. It was already 10 PM when the movie let out. I turned on my phone, and a barrage of missed calls and messages flooded in. Not just from Rupert, but from my parents, and even from Chelsea. Rupert: [Where are you? I’m downstairs at your parents’ house, and no one’s home?] [Alice Grey, are you doing this on purpose? Are you happy to embarrass me in front of my business partners?] [Call me back immediately!] Chelsea: [Alice, you’re too willful. So many CEOs brought their wives tonight. Rupert was all alone and kept getting asked questions. My heart went out to him.] [Luckily, I wore a gown today, so I temporarily filled in as his female companion. Otherwise, Rupert would have been completely humiliated tonight.] [Photo.jpg] In the photo, Rupert, in a black suit, looked handsome and distinguished. Chelsea, arm in arm with him, wore a light blue mermaid gown, her smile radiant. That gown was a custom design I had admired last month, but Rupert had said it was too revealing for me. Now, Chelsea wore it. They stood together, a perfect couple, like a pair made for each other. I looked at the photo, feeling my stomach churn, utterly disgusted. Without replying to any messages, I blocked both of them.

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1 I found myself in the legendary Soul Exchange. I pawned my capacity for love in exchange for another chance at life. When my parents brought my adoptive sister home again, I finally wasn’t consumed by the same hysteria as in my previous life. This time, my parents’ indifference, my brother’s disdain, my fiancé’s betrayal—I wouldn’t care about any of it. But then, why… why were they holding me, crying so heartbrokenly again? “Audrey, why are you spacing out? Your new sister will be here soon, let’s go downstairs to greet her!” Hearing that name again, I paused for a moment. I hadn’t been called “Audrey” for six or seven years. I turned to look at Arthur standing beside me, and sure enough, he was twelve again. The gangly pre-teen, dressed in a fitted suit, was eagerly looking towards the staircase. One hand still clutched my arm. I stared at his long, clean hand. Yet, what flashed in my mind was the imprint of his hand, grown-up, slapping my face. I frowned, instantly shaking him off. Arthur’s expression froze; he looked at me, bewildered. “Audrey, what’s wrong?” The next moment, the villa’s front door slowly pushed open. My parents’ voices drifted in: “Arthur, Audrey, come down, we’ve brought your sister home!” Arthur’s eyes lit up. He immediately abandoned me and ran downstairs. I stood at the top of the stairs, watching the harmonious scene of the family of four below. I reached up and pressed a hand over my heart. It was a strange sensation. A tingling warmth. But the tearing pain that used to accompany it was gone. 2 Arthur and I were twins. For the first twelve years, the Fosters only had us two children. And with the auspicious symbolism of having a boy and a girl twin, our parents and the elders of the family doted on us like precious jewels. Arthur, though only two hours older than me, acted like a true older brother, always letting me have my way, spoiling me into a veritable little princess. Someone once joked with my dad, “With your eldest daughter’s temper, it’s a good thing she was engaged to Ethan early, otherwise no one would dare marry her when she grows up.” My dad’s face immediately darkened. “My daughter wasn’t born to be married off. If no one marries her, she’ll stay home her whole life! I can afford to keep her!” Mom and Arthur didn’t say anything, they just kept showering me with good things, spoiling me even more recklessly. A jade bracelet worth over three hundred thousand dollars was the most ordinary birthday gift I received back then. It was also the last birthday gift I ever received. When I was twelve, one of my father’s old comrades passed away from an illness. On his deathbed, he entrusted his only daughter to my dad. That girl, named Seraphina, became my nominal sister. From then on, my family’s affection, trust, and attention slowly, little by little, drifted away from me. I admit, I hated her. I envied her! I envied how two tears from her could send the whole family into a frantic frenzy. I envied how she slowly stole everything I owned. I grew increasingly obsessive. My temper became more volatile, more erratic. Finally, on my eighteenth birthday, I witnessed her and my fiancé Ethan kissing in the garden. I completely lost my mind. I confronted my parents, my brother, my beloved… “Why are you doing this to me?” But they just looked at me with almost identical expressions of disappointment: “Do you even know what you look like right now? You’re a lunatic!” I laughed, tears streaming down my face. The pain in my heart made my whole body tremble. I lunged at Seraphina with a knife, only to be kicked into a rose bush full of thorns by Arthur. Everyone nervously rushed to protect Seraphina, comforting her and coaxing her to stop crying. No one cared that the knife I held was just a plastic one, meant for cutting cake. My parents, claiming I had mental issues, had me committed to a mental institution. I think Arthur’s kick must have injured me badly. I coughed up blood day and night, begging the doctors to call my parents repeatedly. But they never picked up. Finally, after another round of electroshock therapy, I took my last breath. And then I saw it—the rumored Soul Exchange. I traded all my emotions, my capacity to love, for a chance to be reborn. 3 “Audrey, come on! Weren’t you always looking forward to having a little sister?” Mom, holding Seraphina’s hand, stood at the doorway, smiling and waving at me. Seraphina, with her clean, pale face, sweetly called me “Sister.” But I showed no reaction. I simply turned and went back to my room, leaving them all in the living room, exchanging puzzled glances. My dad sighed, “This child, who upset her now?” Mom’s voice was awkward: “Maybe she’s not used to having a little sister yet, it’s fine, I’ll go coax her in a bit.” Seraphina’s voice was tearful: “Mommy, Daddy, does Sister not like me?” Before my parents could speak, Arthur eagerly cut in: “No, no, Audrey just has a bit of a temper, her heart isn’t bad. Don’t cry, don’t be sad, I’ll go tell her off for you later!” My parents beamed, “Arthur’s so sensible! Make sure you take good care of your sister!” Their laughter kept drifting into my room. Again, I thought how terrible the soundproofing in this mansion truly was. I hated it. It was deafening. I simply stood up and started inventorying my valuables. So much time had passed, I couldn’t remember what my twelve-year-old self owned anymore. Now, looking closely, I was astonished by the sheer wealth. No wonder Seraphina loved taking my things so much. Even my grown-up self couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. I picked up the jewelry from my vanity and stuffed it all into my backpack. Anyway, if I didn’t take it now, Seraphina would soon claim it for various reasons. I held a beautifully crafted jade bracelet, remembering how Seraphina had shattered it in my previous life. That was the first time I slapped her. The small girl, red-eyed, hid behind the door, her voice filled with such injustice, as if I had broken something that belonged to her. “Sister, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to… I’ve never had anything like this, I just wanted to look, I, I didn’t hold it steady…” She burst into tears, which brought my parents and Arthur running. That was the first time I went “crazy” and hit someone, and the first time my dad confined me. Seraphina cried into my mom’s leg until she almost fainted, yet still managed to glance up and stick her tongue out at me. I pointed at her, accusing, but the next second, Arthur violently shoved me into my room. “Audrey! Can’t you show some sympathy? Seraphina is so pathetic, how can you still bully her? It’s just a bracelet, you have countless others! What’s wrong with giving it to her?” I gritted my teeth, forcing down the sobs that rose in my throat. Just a bracelet? No! That was the birthday gift Arthur bought me with his first prize money from a creative competition! But he had forgotten… From that year on, I never received another birthday gift. Even the dolls, clothes, and jewelry that used to flow into my room like a stream were all redirected to Seraphina’s room. All because she said: “The kids at school laugh at me, they say I’m so skinny and small, and I have no taste, not as bright and shiny as Sister, like a little mud monkey…” She was lying! It was Arthur who helped her ostracize me with the entire class! He knew. He clearly knew everything. But he didn’t defend me. Watching as my parents grew increasingly disappointed in me, increasingly favoring their pitiful adopted daughter… 4 By the time I’d packed all my belongings, there was a gentle knock on my door. “Audrey? Sweetheart, dinner’s ready.” Mom’s voice was incredibly patient, unbelievably gentle. I didn’t respond. I just opened the door, allowing her to lead me to the living room. In my usual spot, Seraphina sat, looking constrained. My dad and Arthur were both helping her dish out food. I turned to Mom. “Should I eat on the floor?” Everyone froze. Mom’s grip on my hand unconsciously tightened. “Of course not! It’s my fault, I forgot to get you a chair. Ms. Davies, quickly get Audrey a chair.” Seraphina hesitantly stood up, her innocent big eyes instantly welling with tears. “Sister, I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was your seat, I, I’ll give it to you!” Arthur quickly got up and restrained her, looking at me with reproach. “Audrey, it’s all the same where you sit, don’t scare Seraphina, she just got here! At the very least, you can sit to my left! Brother will sit between the two of you, how about that?” My parents remained silent, instead watching for my reaction. …Isn’t this tacit approval? I sneered inwardly. Truly, so childish. The whole family was putting on a show, but their acting was unusually terrible. It was truly off-putting. I took the chair from the housekeeper and dragged it directly to the farthest corner of the dining table, away from all of them. Arthur’s hand, dishing food for Seraphina, paused. He looked at me, wanting to speak several times, but ultimately said nothing. The meal finished in this strange atmosphere. As I stood to go upstairs, my dad called out to me. He seemed a little troubled, clearing his throat before smiling and speaking: “Audrey, Seraphina is a year younger than you and Arthur. You are her older brother and sister, you should be more accommodating to her. She just lost her biological parents, and she’s been through a lot emotionally. We are her family, we should take good care of her.” My mom chimed in, “Yes, Mom knows you might not be used to having a sister yet, but look how sweet Seraphina is. If you try to spend more time together, you’ll definitely grow close.” The two of them exchanged frantic glances across the table. Clearly, they both wanted the other to speak first about what was coming. I was getting impatient. My tone was cold. “So?” Mom was taken aback by my question. Perhaps she had never heard me speak to her with such a cold tone before, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. My dad took a sip of tea, then smiled and began, “Audrey, Seraphina just transferred here, and her physical and mental condition aren’t very good. We’re really worried about her, so… how about you and Arthur both stay down a grade, and go to school with her? How does that sound?” As if to be more convincing, he hastily added, “Arthur has already agreed, we’re just waiting for you.” I looked at Arthur. He had his head down, not daring to meet my gaze. 5 Here we go again. It was the same in my previous life. They made me, and Arthur, who was already in seventh grade, go back to sixth grade to “keep her company.” A year later, Ethan, who had grown very close to Seraphina, also transferred to our class, claiming he wanted to look after me… From then on, the three of them staged various little dramas in class every day, falsely accusing me of bullying Seraphina, which led to me being ostracized by the entire class. Bravo. Too bad I wasn’t in the mood to play such boring games with elementary schoolers anymore. It was a complete waste of life. I tilted my head, my eyes full of confusion. “She needs two servants to attend her just to go to school?” My dad was so shocked he dropped his chopsticks. “Aud-Audrey, what did you say?” “I said, since Arthur is already willing to cater to her, there’s no need to force me, is there?” Mom grabbed my arm, her face filled with horror. “Audrey, what are you talking about? What ‘cater’? Your dad and I just want you all to spend more time together, to bond earlier!” “I have no obligation to bond with her. Whoever wants to bond with her can go cater to her.” I stared at Arthur, who had been dumbfounded since earlier, and delivered my final words: “So it’s settled. From now on, you two go to elementary school, and I’ll continue my seventh grade. We won’t bother each other.” I turned and went upstairs, leaving behind a group of people comforting the incessantly sobbing Seraphina. Around nine that evening, Arthur knocked on my door. “Audrey, are you asleep?” “Something wrong?” “Uh… can you open the door?” “No.” Silence outside the door for a long time. Just when I thought he had left, Arthur’s voice came again: “Audrey, you’re unhappy, aren’t you?” My hands paused as I packed my clothes. I frowned, my voice indifferent. “No.” “You are! Audrey, is it because I was only paying attention to our new sister today and ignored you?” I was a little speechless. I really wasn’t unhappy. I just didn’t care. Dealing with them was so boring it made me want to throw up. The Audrey who would be so heartbroken by neglect that she’d fall into severe depression had already died alone in a mental asylum. I sighed. “Really, I’m not. Arthur, you can do whatever you want, you’re free to get close to anyone you like, I don’t care, as long as you don’t bother me.” Silence fell outside the door again. After a while, his voice carried a hint of resignation. “Audrey, Seraphina is truly pitiful. Look how small and frail she is, and she has such a sweet, soft heart. I’m really afraid she’ll be bullied… Audrey, I’ll go back and stay with her for a year, and once she’s settled, I’ll transfer to your school, okay?” Fine, fine, fine. The school is your family’s investment, you can do whatever you want. I rolled my eyes, packed the last piece of clothing. Put on my noise-canceling headphones, and lay directly on the bed. The next morning, I walked into the living room, pulling my suitcase and backpack. Everyone froze again. I looked up and saw Ethan, sitting next to Seraphina. The boy, my age, was already strikingly tall, even half a head taller than Arthur. The moment he saw me, he quickly stood up, his gentle, almond-shaped eyes curving slightly, his voice joyful: “Audrey! I’m here to pick you up for school!” I lowered my eyes, seeing Seraphina’s hand clutching his arm. “You won’t need to pick me up anymore.” “Of course, if you want to pick someone else up, that’s up to you.” 6 Ethan’s smile froze on his face. “Why?” I pointed my chin, indicating the suitcase behind me. Screech— Chairs scraping the floor. Not just Ethan, but my parents and Arthur too, all wore confused expressions. “Audrey? What’s that?” Arthur’s red-rimmed eyes were fixed on my suitcase. “Clothes, and some toiletries.” And my jewelry. “I forgot to tell you, starting today, I’m boarding at school.” “What?!” Several voices spoke in unison. My dad walked over, his face cold, and half-knelt to look at me. “Audrey? You’re boarding?” “Yes.” “Why? Isn’t it good at home? Did your mom and dad make you unhappy?” I remained silent, my eyes devoid of any emotion. My dad’s hand, resting on my hair, trembled slightly. He hesitated, then looked back at Seraphina. “Is it because… Seraphina?” At his words, before I could react, Seraphina bit her lip and let out a suppressed whimper. My mom quickly walked over and hugged her, then glared at my dad reproachfully. “What are you saying? How could it be? Audrey, you tell us, why do you want to board? It’s definitely not because of your sister, you like your sister, right?” Everyone waited expectantly for my answer. They were waiting for me to say, Yes, I like her. Boarding is my own reckless choice. I’m not upset. But I was especially good at disappointing people. “No, I don’t like her. I hate her. And it’s not just her.” “I also hate Mom and Dad, I hate Arthur, I hate Ethan! I hate all of you!” In an instant, my parents’ and Arthur’s faces turned ashen. Ethan, surprisingly, showed little reaction. He seemed to think I was just jealous and throwing a tantrum, his eyes full of tolerance and helplessness. As I walked past him with my suitcase, he even reached out, trying to take it from me. I dodged him. He didn’t get angry, still shamelessly following behind me. My parents tried to follow, but were interrupted by Seraphina’s cries. She cried more and more pitifully, her small face buried in my mom’s arms, her whole body trembling. “Waaah, Mom and Dad, please send me to an orphanage! Sister doesn’t like me… I don’t deserve to be home!” My parents, of course, launched into another round of comforting words, but Arthur, for some reason, was unusually silent. Ethan was still clinging to me, forcing his way into the car I got into. “Go ride in your family’s car.” “Why? I don’t want to! I want to be with you!” He tilted his head, showing his two front teeth, looking utterly unconcerned, like a pig not afraid of boiling water. My fingertips trembled slightly. I suddenly remembered, it was just like this in my previous life. When everyone else ostracized me, the only one who didn’t side with Seraphina was Ethan. He would stand firmly behind me when Seraphina framed me. He’d talk back to Arthur when he yelled at me. When my parents grew more and more disappointed in me, he’d hold me and whisper comforting words: “Audrey, don’t be afraid. You still have me. Ethan’s with you. If they like your sister more, that’s their business. I’ll only ever like my Audrey!” I was like a drowning person clutching the only piece of driftwood, depending on him more completely, trusting him fully. Until Arthur and I turned fourteen. Seraphina suddenly fainted for no reason. Ethan paused, and before anyone else could react, he pushed me aside and caught her steadily in his arms. The “master” he personally brought, in front of everyone at the birthday party, declared that my name was ill-omened, suppressing Seraphina’s destiny and causing her health to decline. How conveniently that “master” appeared! What a clumsy excuse! I still remembered the shock and embarrassment on the faces of all our relatives and friends. Everyone could see it was an act of bullying and humiliation directed at me. But my parents still took me to change my name without a word. From that day on, the name that had been mine for fourteen years – Audrey Foster – became a forbidden word in our house. They called me – Amelia Foster. Amelia… A name changed for Seraphina. It sounded beautiful, but I hated it. I hated it until the day I died! 7 I ignored Ethan. Anyway, it wouldn’t be long before he transferred to Seraphina’s class. I went directly to the dorm advisor with my paperwork and accommodation fees. Ethan saw me actually hand over the money. He finally shed his casual demeanor. He seemed to finally realize that I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I wasn’t kidding with them. I wasn’t waiting for them to coax me. I truly just wanted to be as far away from them as possible. “Audrey?” His confusion was like thick, swirling ink in his eyes. “Why do you hate even me? Did I do something wrong?” His fingers gently tugged at my sleeve, his voice cautious. He didn’t sound at all like someone who would eventually choke my neck with his bare hands. But those vivid images were still burned into my memory… I violently slapped his hand away. My eyes filled with disgust, I vigorously wiped my sleeve with a tissue. Ethan, pushed away by me, stared blankly at my face. His voice seemed muffled in his throat. “Audrey…” Meeting my look of revulsion, he finally fell silent. I quickly walked away from the hallway. And before class, I submitted a request to change classes. Even after the first period, Ethan didn’t show up in class. When I was walking through the familiar hallway, carrying a stack of books, I finally saw him, his eyes red-rimmed. Ethan looked at the books in my arms, his expression even more wronged. He rushed towards me in two strides. “Audrey, don’t change classes, okay?” But the next moment, a basketball flew from Class 2, hitting him squarely on the head. I, with my books, nimbly dodged, then turned and entered my classroom. Ethan, having hit the floor of the hallway, caused a stir. A boy in my class still held the posture of throwing a basketball. His school uniform hung loosely on him, a wide, exaggerated grin on his lips. “Oops, accidentally hit someone. Are you alright, pal?” I glanced at him. Carrying my books, I walked past him. Whether it was my imagination or not, his movements seemed to freeze for a moment. Then, he propped himself against the edge of a desk with one hand, casually pointed to the seat beside him, his voice full of swagger. “Any further back is the trash can. How about you sit next to me?” 8 I looked at him, but he quickly averted his gaze. “Ahem, well, the homeroom teacher said last class that a new student would be joining, and for me, the class president, to take good care of them.” As he spoke, he rubbed his face, turning his ears red. Class 2 president… Jason. Notorious as the class troublemaker. The students around me were either laughing at Ethan, who had fallen, or secretly glancing our way. I sighed. Class 2’s bad reputation wasn’t unfounded, after all… But I really didn’t want to sit next to Ethan! I pursed my lips. “Thanks, but I prefer to sit alone.” I placed my books on the desk in the last row, by the corner. Jason looked a bit annoyed, his tone urgent. “Hey, you… don’t sit there, I’ll swap with you! I’m taller, I’ll block your view of the blackboard.” Before I could refuse, Ethan, covered in dirt, rushed in. He slammed his hand on my books. “Audrey, come back with me!” “Let go.” “No!” … “Seriously, dude… are you performing a soap opera here?” Jason’s face looked like he’d bitten into something disgusting. “She wants to stay in our class, is it any of your business?” Someone at the door, I don’t know who, threw the basketball back to him. Jason balanced the spinning ball on one finger, looking at Ethan with an expression full of challenge. Ethan gritted his teeth, looking down at me. But he saw I had already started tidying my desk. Jason tutted, “Still not leaving! The bell has rung for class!” Ethan unconsciously clenched his hands. “Audrey…” I frowned, saying nothing. He finally gave up. He shot Jason a furious look, then walked away, turning back to me every few steps. I sighed in relief. “Thank you.” “Huh? Are you talking to me?” Jason pointed to himself. I nodded. He suddenly stood up straight, throwing the basketball into the trash can behind me, almost like muscle memory. I stared at him, bewildered, not understanding what that move was. But I noticed his face was redder now. “Force of habit… N-no problem!” I couldn’t help but smile faintly. His movements grew even stiffer.

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My savings were gone. It had been three days since Olivia’s accident, and she was still in a coma. Desperate, I tried to use her debit card, punching in every anniversary I could remember. Each attempt met with a frustrating ‘incorrect password’ message. “My partner’s parents are out of the country and unreachable,” I pleaded with the bank teller, a young woman with kind eyes. “Is there any other way?” The customer service manager, after checking her system, looked at me with a puzzled expression. “It’s not that complicated, Mr. Reed. You’re Ms. Chen’s legal husband. Just bring your marriage certificate and we can process a guardianship.” The solution was clear, simple. But I froze. Reed wasn’t my name. My girlfriend of eight years, Olivia – when had she gotten married to someone else? 1 I clutched the application form, the unfamiliar name “Ethan Reed” staring back at me, and stumbled out of the bank in a daze. The afternoon sun was blinding, yet a chill ran through me. Back at the hospital, I found Olivia’s phone. The battery was dead. I plugged it in, and soon the screen flickered to life. A local number, unsaved, illuminated the display. Taking a deep breath, I answered. “Olivia! What’s going on? Your phone’s been off for days, no replies to my texts. You’re going to give me a heart attack!” A young man’s voice, thick with tears, spilled from the speaker. My grip tightened on the phone, my fingers icy. “Hello? Say something! Where are you?” “Hello,” I managed, forcing my voice steady. “May I ask who you are to Ms. Chen?” The line went silent for a beat. Then, without hesitation, “I’m her husband. Who are you? Why do you have her phone?” His words pierced through my last shred of hope. My heart plummeted. “This is St. Jude’s Hospital ICU.” My throat ached, a burning lump, as I fought back the overwhelming heat in my eyes. “Your wife, Ms. Olivia Chen, was in a severe car accident three days ago. She’s still in critical condition. Please come to the hospital as soon as possible.” Before he could respond, I hung up. Not long after, a handsome man in a rumpled shirt, stumbled out of the elevator, his eyes wide with panic. He rushed to the ICU observation window. “Honey, what happened to you?! Look at me and our baby!” He pressed his hands against the glass, sobbing uncontrollably. “Wake up! You can’t leave us… You can’t abandon us…” I stood a short distance away, watching another man cry out “honey” to the woman I had loved for eight years. The last flicker of hope in my heart finally died. 2 I wanted to rush over, to shove that bank application form in his face and demand answers. But my gaze fell on the dark circles under his eyes, the visible exhaustion etched on his features. The accusation caught in my throat. He hadn’t slept. If anything happened to him, I couldn’t bear the responsibility. Clutching my phone and that flimsy piece of paper in my pocket, I turned and left the hospital. Like a defeated soldier retreating from battle. Back in the apartment we’d shared for five years, her presence was everywhere. I sat on the sofa, staring at the birthday on Ethan’s application form: 03/15. I typed it into Olivia’s phone. It unlocked. My heart felt like it was being twisted and wrung out. I opened her messaging app and searched for the number that had called earlier. An account labeled “Mobile Customer Service Manager” popped up. I clicked on his profile, scrolling through his posts. Last year, on my birthday, she’d said she had to work late, sending me a gift card to buy whatever I liked. I’d gleefully posted about it. On the same day, Ethan’s social media showed a table laden with homemade food. The caption read: “Someone said they were tired of eating out, insisted on coming home for my pasta.” In a corner of the photo, there was a blurry glimpse of her, head bent, eating. This year, for Valentine’s Day, she’d given me an elegant watch. I loved it so much I wanted to wear it even to sleep. But that very day, Ethan had posted a grid of nine photos: rings, a necklace, shoes, clothes. A complete set of dazzling jewelry and apparel, sparkling in velvet boxes. His caption: “Thanks to Ms. Chen for still spoiling me like a young man.” There were countless other moments. Her back as she made breakfast in the kitchen. Their hands intertwined as she drove. Her sleeping profile. Even the dog we adopted together, the one she told me had run away, now appeared in his photos, curled at his feet. My hands trembled as I scrolled further. My breath hitched when I saw a series of luxurious wedding photos from two years ago. A wedding gown, a toast dress, golden confetti showering down. Olivia, wearing the custom-made gown I’d gifted her, smiled radiantly, arm in arm with the gentle Ethan. Her bridesmaids, clustered around her… Their faces were glaringly familiar. They were Olivia’s closest friends since childhood. Sarah had just eaten dinner at our place last month, even taking home some of the pickled vegetables I’d made. Jessica, two months ago, was short on money for a house, and I’d lent her ten thousand dollars without a second thought. And Michael, Laura’s boyfriend, had just invited me for a game of golf and afternoon tea last weekend. But in the photos, they wore matching bridesmaid dresses, arms slung around each other, smiling into the camera without a trace of shadow. They all knew. And they had all, silently, conspired to keep her secret. Even earlier, Ethan had announced their marriage with a post: “Officially off the market! To the rest of our lives, please advise, @Liv.” I remembered that day vividly. Olivia had told me her company was holding a mandatory training retreat. Turns out, she was with another man, promising him her future. I kept looking, and then, suddenly, I laughed. A low chuckle at first, then my shoulders started to shake, and tears streamed down my face. Eight years. From the innocence of college to the grind of professional life. Every single blueprint for my future included her. Everyone around us had already assumed we were married, just missing the certificate. But that certificate, it turns out, was an insurmountable chasm. She had given it to someone else. I spent eight years of my youth building what I thought was a love nest. Unbeknownst to me, I was merely laying bricks for someone else’s marriage. How utterly ridiculous. How tragic. 3 Three days later, I received a message from a colleague at the hospital: Olivia had woken up. Her vital signs were stable, and she had been moved to a regular room. When I pushed open the door to her room, she was propped up in bed. Ethan sat on the edge of the mattress, his fingers intertwined with hers, his other hand carefully helping her drink water. A picture of deep affection, a couple reunited after facing death. The sound of my footsteps startled them. Olivia’s tender expression froze the moment she saw me. Her hand tightened around Ethan’s. Ethan winced, looking at me suspiciously. “You are…” “Olivia,” I stared at her, “we’ve known each other for eight years. How could I not know you got married and became a mother?” Ethan’s gaze became wary. “Liv, who is he?” Olivia’s face turned from pale to green. She forced a stiff smile. “Ethan, let me introduce you. This is Arthur Hayes, a college acquaintance. He… he works at this hospital. He heard about my accident and just dropped by to check on me.” She spoke quickly, desperately, sending me warning glances. “Acquaintance?” Ethan’s brow didn’t unfurrow. He turned to Olivia, his tone laced with a touch of petulance. “What kind of acquaintance cares this much about you? Besides, what does our marriage have to do with him? Why is he acting like he’s prosecuting you?” Olivia immediately turned to soothe him. “Arthur just has a quick temper. He… well, there might have been some misunderstandings in the past. He’s probably just a bit upset that I’m married now.” Then she turned back to me, her eyes pleading with me to leave. “Arthur, the past is the past. I have my own life now, and I have Ethan. My health isn’t good right now, and I can’t handle stress. You should go do your rounds, don’t neglect your work.” As she spoke, she kept her eyes, once filled with affection, now only with panic and annoyance, fixed on me. She subtly shook her head. I watched the fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. I watched her grip Ethan’s hand, looking as if she faced an enemy. The last spark of warmth in my heart died out. I said nothing, simply turned and pulled open the door, leaving with no hesitation. The door closed behind me, and I vaguely heard Olivia’s sigh of relief, followed by her sickeningly sweet voice telling Ethan, “It’s nothing. Just an insignificant person. Are you tired? Do you want to go rest? The doctor just said you need more quiet time…” The hallway lights were harsh, stinging my eyes. Eight years. Countless days and nights of companionship and support. In her words, it had all been reduced to an “insignificant person.” I knew she wanted to force me into a humiliating retreat. But I would not allow myself to be pushed into such a contemptible position. I tightened my grip on Olivia’s phone in my pocket. It held countless of her secrets. If this was how it would be, then it was time for a complete reckoning. 4 Late that night, during my overnight shift, the office door was quietly pushed open. Olivia slipped in, locking it behind her, and without a word, fell to her knees at my feet. “Arthur, I was wrong.” Her voice was hoarse, her eyes bloodshot. “Please don’t be angry. Let me explain…” “Don’t bother,” I interrupted. “I saw the marriage certificate.” I looked down at her, asking the question that had gnawed at me for days. “Olivia, between him and me, who is the real interloper?” She flinched, her eyes darting away. “He was forced on me by my family.” Olivia swallowed, then spoke with difficulty. “Arthur, I never dared tell you… My mom, she never approved of us being together. She said you, as a doctor, would be too busy to take care of me… And then there’s your mom’s situation. She heard your mom has mental health issues and worried you might inherit something…” My breath hitched, blood rushing to my head. “Don’t you know why my mother became that way?” I was trembling, not from sadness, but from extreme absurdity and fury. “Wasn’t it because my father constantly had other women, driving her to madness?” “You know what I hate most! You know how much I despise people who cheat! Why… why would you do this to me?!” “I know! I know all of it!” She shuffled forward on her knees, desperately gripping my clothes. Tears streamed down her upturned face. “You’re the one I love, Arthur! He’s just a way to appease my family, an act for my mother. I swear! He won’t affect us. You’re the only one in my heart! Everything I have is yours! We can go back to how things were… You two can just stay out of each other’s lives!” Stay out of each other’s lives? I let out a bitter laugh, raising my hand and striking her across the face. “You mean you expect me to live in the shadows forever, to always endure, waiting for you to fulfill your duties as a wife and mother in another home, just to give me a sliver of your time? Olivia, you must be dreaming!” The plea faded from Olivia’s face, replaced by a grim determination. “Arthur Hayes, think carefully.” She stood up, lowering her voice, a subtle threat in her tone. “You and I have eight years. All our friends, colleagues, even your parents, know that you’re mine.” “Our shared plans, the promises we made, the path we walked… don’t these tangible eight years mean more than that piece of paper? As long as you stay quiet and don’t make a scene, I’ll always be yours. That paper, it’s just a formality…” I looked at her, so self-righteous, and suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of unfamiliarity. This face, compared to the nervous, sweaty-palmed girl who awkwardly handed me a hot tea outside the library eight years ago… How could they be the same person? Back then, she had said, “Arthur, I’ll be good to you my whole life.” But now? She had not only cheated, secretly married someone else, but even… I remembered the photos Ethan had posted online. At first, I thought she brought him back to our home when I was away. But on closer inspection, it was clearly their wedding home, a mirror image of ours, replicated detail for detail! All to deceive me when we video-called during my night shifts. None of this deception was spontaneous. It was a calculated, years-long fabrication. I opened the door to the on-call room with disgust, pushing her out with all my strength. “Get out!” Olivia stumbled out the door, then stood outside, softly knocking and pleading. “Arthur, don’t be rash! I really do love you… Please think about it.” A moment later, her phone rang. “Arthur, Ethan woke up. I have to go back quickly. He’s home taking care of the baby…” Her footsteps faded into the distance. I sank to the floor, drained. Tears streamed silently down my face. Eight years, heavy on my heart, suffocating me with pain. How could it not hurt when you’ve loved someone with all your being? But I knew, some paths, you couldn’t take a single wrong step on. The next day, I stopped Ethan outside Olivia’s room. “Ethan, there are some things about Olivia I think you need to know…” I had barely started when he chuckled, his gaze knowing. “Dr. Hayes, don’t bother pretending. I know you and she are more than just old acquaintances, right?” He took a small step closer, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I’ve seen the private photo album on her phone. It’s full of your pictures. From college until now—” He paused, savoring my stunned expression. “You’re her boyfriend of eight years, just shy of a marriage certificate.” “And I,” he straightened, a triumphant smirk on his face, “am her legitimate husband.”

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1 On my way home from shopping, a creepy guy blocked my path. As he coldly waited for me to add him on social media, I ran through several potential death scenarios in my head if I refused. So, I forced a smile, clicked “accept,” and turned to walk away. I planned to delete him the moment I got home, but then I stumbled upon a trending post. “Hooked up with a pretty girl on the street today; already got her contact.” “I’m a fast starter, wondering how to get her warmed up quickly?” The comments were a mixed bag, making me frown. Ten seconds prior, the poster had liked a comment. “What’s the big deal? Check her profile, then search her photos across the entire internet!” “Girls love to show off their photos on all platforms. Then you can follow the breadcrumbs, find her other accounts, pinpoint her personal information, and just show up at her door to display your manhood!” Not long after reading that, my phone pinged. “Hey there, beautiful, why’s your profile locked? Unlock it so I can take a look!” … The sender’s profile picture was a blurry, in-your-face selfie, his eyes staring straight ahead, as if trying to pierce through the screen. His name: Mark Jensen. “You’re so gorgeous, I couldn’t get enough of you today. Unlock your profile so I can worship you some more!” My mind exploded! It was this afternoon! I was stopped outside the mall by a man. He wore an ill-fitting T-shirt, his hair greasy and plastered to his scalp, his eyes shifty yet burning with a kind of obsessive fervor. He insisted on getting my contact info. I instinctively refused, but he immediately stepped closer, blocking my way, his voice suddenly rising: “What’s the big deal about giving your number? You look down on me?” In that instant, a news headline flashed wildly in my mind: “Woman Stabbed to Death After Refusing Advances.” A profound sense of alarm shot through me from my feet upwards. I didn’t dare provoke him, so I forced a smile and took out my phone to scan his code. He watched me intently as I clicked “add,” then grinned, revealing a mouth full of crooked yellow teeth, and left, satisfied. At the time, I just felt a wave of bad luck, planning to delete him once I got home. But now, this name, this message, and that chilling post… That poster was him! What did he want to do to me? Follow the breadcrumbs? Pinpoint information? Show up at my door to display his… manhood? My stomach churned instantly. I only felt a slight relief after confirming my profile was private. Suppressing my disgust, my fingers trembled as I typed on the screen. I couldn’t provoke him, but I had to cut ties quickly. “Sorry, my profile isn’t really open.” “And my boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate me adding random strangers. Apologies, but let’s just unmatch each other.” Send. Without waiting for his reply, I immediately clicked his profile picture, then the top right corner: Delete Contact. “Confirm”! Not a second of hesitation! Watching the system notification “You have deleted this contact” on my screen, I exhaled slowly. It was over. But after all that last night, for some inexplicable reason, I reopened that post. The page refreshed. A stark red, angry update abruptly stung my eyes! Poster: “Damn it! That bitch deleted me! Just now, she tried to use some stupid ‘boyfriend’ excuse!” Below was his screenshot. My profile picture, and the two sentences I had just sent, were clear as day, word for word! The comment section instantly erupted. “Hahaha, OP, don’t be so overconfident. She’s politely rejecting you, can’t you tell?” “A toad trying to eat swan meat, she deleted you, serves you right!” “PSA: A girl agreeing to add you doesn’t mean she’s agreed to your marriage proposal. She just didn’t want to embarrass you in person.” Amidst the mockery, Mark Jensen’s replies were particularly twisted, each word reeking of resentment and distortion. “Bullshit! If she wasn’t interested, why would she agree to add me? She clearly has a boyfriend and still added me, isn’t that hinting I can steal her away?!” “She’s testing me! Playing hard to get!” Reading his deranged words, I felt a surge of anger and dread crawl up my spine. This person… he’s a total psychopath, isn’t he? Impossible to reason with. Just as I was about to close the page, a new reply popped up. It was from the ID that had encouraged the poster to “search the internet, stake out her home.” His reply was just a short sentence, but it sent a chill down my spine. “Boyfriend? Buddy, don’t let her fool you.” “I checked for you. All her social media profiles show she’s single.” “That’s a green light, understand? She’s waiting for you to make a move.” The ID immediately posted another reply, filled with malicious instigation. “I’ve seen plenty of women like her; they’re just faking it. They look down on honest guys like you, always putting on airs. Give her a lesson, and she’ll straighten up.” Mark Jensen was predictably ignited. “But she deleted me! I can’t reach her now, damn it!” “Deleted?” The ID scoffed, “Heh, just a little trick. Don’t worry, buddy, I’ve got the skills to dig up her phone number, address, company, all her info for you.” In the thread, Mark Jensen was already ecstatic. “Good buddy! DM me! Quick!” Psycho! A complete and utter psycho! I couldn’t help but curse under my breath, but the image of Mark Jensen’s obsessive, fervent face from this afternoon, and his relentless determination, vividly reappeared before my eyes. What if… he really does show up at my door! 2 Acting on caution, I swiftly took screenshots of all the chat logs and pages. I didn’t even have time to change my jacket. I grabbed my keys and rushed out of the house, heading straight for the nearest police station! “Officer, I want to report something! Someone is doxing me online and threatening my personal safety!” The officer who handled my report was very patient, but after reviewing all my screenshots, he merely frowned. “Madam, this… for now, it’s just online talk. They haven’t caused you any actual harm, so it’s difficult for us to open a case.” “But they want to dig up my information! They want to show up at my door!” I was getting anxious. “How about this,” the officer thought for a moment. “We can contact this Mark Jensen, ask him to come in, and give him a verbal warning, explaining the situation clearly.” Call him in? My whole body stiffened. I couldn’t imagine what a fanatic like Mark Jensen would do after being warned by the police. That would only completely enrage him! “…Then, let’s not bother for now.” I practically gritted my teeth, squeezing out the words. Walking out of the police station, a huge sense of powerlessness swallowed me. Back home, I double-locked all the doors, still feeling uneasy. For some inexplicable reason, I refreshed that post again. The page displayed—”Sorry, this post has been deleted.” Deleted? My heart sank. This was even more terrifying than if it hadn’t been deleted! It meant they had gone underground and started executing their plan! Just then— Thump! Thump! Thump! A knock on the door! The sudden sound scared me out of my wits. My phone clattered to the floor! Who was it?! I even stopped breathing. I tiptoed to the door, my heart pounding as if it would burst from my throat. I didn’t dare make a sound, trembling as I pressed my eye to the peephole. But it was blurry outside. I couldn’t see anything! The peephole seemed to be smeared with something sticky! It hadn’t been like that when I came home! I quickly backed away two steps, rushed to the living room, and opened the home security camera app on my phone. The live feed of the doorway showed the hallway was empty. I immediately brought up the recorded playback. The time: less than five minutes after I got home. A man in a black hoodie, wearing a mask and a cap, appeared on the screen. He stealthily pressed himself against my door, listening for a while, then stepped back, facing my front door, and unzipped his pants. His lower half began to make extremely lewd thrusting motions! A few seconds later, he stopped, and meticulously… used his finger to smear a warm, thick white liquid on my peephole! I clamped my hand over my mouth, barely stopping myself from throwing up. It was him. It was Mark Jensen! Fear, like countless cold hands, instantly gripped my heart. I rushed back to the door, slammed the security chain on, and double-locked every lock I could. After doing all that, my hands still shaking, I dialed 911, and then the building management. “Someone… someone at my door… he…” My voice trembled uncontrollably; I could barely speak a complete sentence. Perhaps my panic was too real; the police and management arrived almost simultaneously. I showed them the security video. The police officer’s face instantly became grave. But the property manager, in her business skirt suit, showed a hint of impatience. “Madam, it’s possible an outsider slipped in. We’ll enhance security. Don’t make too much of it…” “Make too much of it?” I almost exploded. “This is a pervert! This is harassment! He’s threatening my personal safety!” The female manager pursed her lips, muttering in a volume just loud enough for me to hear: “Who knows if you brought this on yourself with some romantic entanglement.” “What did you say?!” “Officer!” The lead police officer sternly reprimanded her. “Watch your words! This is a victim!” The female manager then shut up. The police officer reassured me, stating they would immediately open an investigation, and advised me to be extra careful recently, to contact them anytime if anything happened. After they left, I felt all my strength drained, collapsing onto the sofa. Not long after, the doorbell rang. It was the property management; they said they sent a cleaner to tidy outside my door. I cautiously peered through the peephole. Standing outside was an “auntie” wearing a mask and a cleaning cap. Her figure was quite tall, her broad shoulders almost filling the entire cleaning uniform. But my highly strung nerves were throbbing with a headache, and I didn’t have the energy to think deeper. I just wanted this to be over quickly. I said “thank you” through the door, then retreated to the living room, preparing to lie down in my bedroom. But just then— Beep! Beep! Beep! Alarm! Multiple incorrect password attempts! The electronic lock’s piercing alarm suddenly blared! I shot up from the bed, instinctively pulled open my bedroom door, and peeked out. The front door was actually ajar! The “cleaner” from earlier was standing at the doorway. He slowly, slowly straightened his hunched body. He took off his cap and mask, revealing Mark Jensen’s obsessive and fervent face! He saw me, and instead of running, he grinned, showing his yellow teeth. “Heh heh, I’ve come to… make friends with you.”

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I was the Maddox family’s living good luck charm. If I so much as sneezed, the Maddox Corporation’s giant signboard would fall that very day. If a bracelet dug into my skin while I slept, the Maddox estate’s backyard would mysteriously catch fire that night. So, until I turned eighteen and discovered I was the unknowingly swapped fake heiress, I was cherished by the entire Maddox family, held as if I might melt in their hands, or disappear from their pockets. The Maddox family’s true bloodline was a pair of fraternal twins. On the first day the real heiress and heir returned home, the entire household was in a frenzy. Meanwhile, I was comfortably curled up in a garden swing chair, a premium coffee in my left hand, an ice cream cone in my right, and waved amiably towards their entrance. Helen Maddox caught sight of me, her face instantly darkening. Jane Maddox, seeing this, rushed over and knocked the ice cream from my hand. “A usurper and a fake, you dare to eat our family’s food?” “Now, we are the masters! You should be kneeling to welcome us, then licking that filth off the floor!” I blinked, a little confused. “But Mom and Dad said I never have to do things like that.” Helen viciously pinched my arm. “If you don’t know how, learn! From now on, we make the rules in this house!” As they shoved me towards the cleaning rags, my mother, miles away at the company, felt a sudden pang in her chest, a flicker of inexplicable unease, and turned to my father. “Honey, do you feel… like our company’s stock just shifted?” … “A fake is a fake. Mom and Dad kept you only for the Maddox family’s reputation.” “You stole eighteen years of our lives; making you do some chores is an honor.” Helen sneered in my ear as they shoved me towards the cleaning rags. My steps faltered, but I said nothing. Mom and Dad had specifically warned me before going to the company not to cause any big commotion if I got upset. I was always obedient. Mrs. Higgins, the housekeeper, looked on with a pained expression. “Miss Anna, Miss Helen, Master Jane, Miss Anna is…” “Is what? Do you want to keep your job here?” Jane’s face turned cold. Mrs. Higgins sighed, looking at me. I quietly shook my head at her. Jane’s face only softened when he watched me bend down and meticulously wipe away the ice cream he’d knocked to the floor. He gathered all the servants and announced, “Listen up, now that Helen and I are home, we’re in charge. If anyone dares to speak up for this imposter, Anna, pack your bags and leave immediately!” So, for the entire day, Jane and Helen watched as I poured tea and water, knelt to polish their shoes, and even made me jump into the pool to retrieve a bracelet Helen had deliberately thrown in. “Haven’t you lived in the Maddox house for eighteen years? Can’t you even do this little thing?” I said nothing, merely trembling as I wrapped myself in the towel Mrs. Higgins handed me. Mom and Dad told me that as long as I stayed happy, the “shadow” wouldn’t emerge. By evening, when Mom and Dad returned home, I was still damp, kneeling on the floor, scrubbing. “What’s going on here?” Mom’s voice cut through the silence, and the living room immediately hushed. Dad’s gaze quickly landed on me, his brows slightly furrowed. “Anna, what happened to you?” Before I could speak, Helen rushed forward, hugging Mom and whimpering, “Mommy, does Sister not want us back? Why has she been sulking all day? She even threw a gift I kindly gave her into the pool.” Jane chimed in, “I just asked her to retrieve Helen’s gift, and she acted all high and mighty.” I expected Mom to at least question me, but instead, she pushed Helen’s hands away and quickly walked towards me. “Anna, my sweet girl, you…” Her words trailed off as she spotted the blood seeping from my sleeve. Her face instantly changed. I instinctively tried to hide my hand, but she grasped it firmly, then summoned a servant to bring ointment and bandages, meticulously cleaning my wound. “How did you hurt your hand? Did they bully you?” Helen froze, instinctively retorting, “Mom, it was clearly her!” “Silence!” Dad’s voice was cold. “Before we brought you back, did I not tell you?” “Anna is our lucky star. As long as she’s happy, the Maddox family thrives.” “Anyone who makes Anna unhappy is jeopardizing the Maddox family’s fortune.” Helen’s face went completely white. Jane clenched his fists, emotions churning in his eyes, but he forcibly suppressed them, and was the first to speak to me. “Sister Anna, I’m sorry. Helen and I were wrong.” Helen, seeing Jane speak, quickly apologized to me, her eyes reddening. “I’m sorry…” I nodded, then curled my lips slightly. “It’s alright, I don’t blame you.” After dinner, just as I was about to go to my room to rest, Jane called out to me. “Mom and Dad said to tell you to go up to the attic. It seems they want to give you something special.” I didn’t think much of it and followed him to the attic. I didn’t see Mom or Dad, but he suddenly pushed me inside and locked the door. Jane’s voice, like a spectator, came from outside the door. “Since you’re so important.” “Then I’ll see if the Maddox family can survive without you.” “Jane…” My whole body stiffened, even making a sound was incredibly difficult. The attic was pitch dark, with only a thin sliver of dim light seeping through a narrow crack. The wooden door almost completely blocked out outside sounds, and the air seemed to thin instantly. “You, please open the door, alright?” I tapped lightly on the door, my voice trembling uncontrollably. Jane’s unhurried voice came from outside. “What, scared?” I swallowed hard, trying to calm myself. “I, I have claustrophobia. I was kidnapped as a child, and the doctor said I can’t be in confined spaces.” “Please let me out, alright? I promise I won’t say anything.” Silence fell for a few seconds outside the door. Just as I thought Jane might at least hesitate, he scoffed disdainfully. “Claustrophobia?” “Anna Maddox, you really know how to make things up.” His tone was filled with undisguised annoyance. “Stop with these pathetic tricks to manipulate people.” “I’d like to see if you can really scare yourself to death.” The footsteps gradually receded. I frantically banged on the door, but my throat felt as if it were being choked, my mouth open, yet no sound escaped. My breathing grew increasingly erratic, and my vision began to blacken. I slid to the floor, hugging myself tightly, then completely lost consciousness. When I woke up again, my body felt completely weak. As soon as I opened my eyes, an excited voice reached my ears. “Anna, is that Anna?” Before I could react, a pair of warm hands clasped mine tightly. “Mommy’s here.” Mom’s voice was clearly trembling, her eyes red, as if she was trying hard to suppress some emotion. Dad stood by the bed, his face also grim, but he let out a sigh of relief when he saw me wake up. The doctor beside him said gravely, “Fortunately, we found her in time, otherwise…” “Miss Anna cannot endure any more stress.” I slowly came back to my senses. My gaze shifted, and I saw Helen and Jane kneeling not far away. Mom helped me sit up, then glared at Jane. “Anna, did Jane lock you in? Mommy will make sure he pays.” Helen pouted, her voice very low. “Is it really that big a deal? It was just being locked in the attic for a bit.” “So delicate, it’s just too dramatic.” Jane said nothing, but his expression clearly echoed Helen’s sentiment. Slap! A crisp sound exploded in the room. Helen’s head snapped to the side from the force of the slap; she was completely stunned. Mom’s hand still hung in the air, her gaze coldly fixed on Helen. “Say that again?” Helen clutched her face, looking at her in disbelief. “Mom, I just…” Dad’s voice was heavy with suppressed anger. “Do you two have any idea that Anna almost died?” “If something serious had happened, how would you compensate us?” Jane’s face changed. He couldn’t help but argue. “Dad, isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration?” “Anna is perfectly fine, isn’t she? We’re your biological children! Why are you treating me like this for an outsider?” “Besides, all this talk about ‘lucky stars’ is just…” “Enough!” Dad abruptly cut him off, his eyes colder than I had ever seen them. “I haven’t even settled the score with you for locking Anna in the attic.” “Now, kneel properly. Don’t force me to use the family disciplinary rod.” Jane bit his lip, then suddenly scoffed, his tone clearly defiant. “Dad, Mom, don’t you think this is too superstitious?” “She fainted once, and you’re so anxious.” “But the Maddox family is still doing fine, isn’t it? Has anything specific changed?” Dad didn’t speak again. His phone rang. He looked down at the screen, and then his face visibly darkened, inch by inch. “Maddox Corporation’s stock just dropped three points.” At Dad’s words, Jane’s face also changed. “Dad, that’s just a coincidence. How could it be related to Anna?” He instinctively retorted, but his tone lacked its initial certainty. Dad didn’t answer him, merely looking at the butler. “Bring the family rod.” When the butler returned with the wooden rod, Helen burst into tears. “Dad! You’re biased! Anna is perfectly fine, why are you still bringing out the family rod!” She pointed at me, her voice sharp and vicious. “What right does she have!” “Silence! If you insult Anna again, I’ll beat you too!” Helen’s body trembled, and she finally quieted down, merely sobbing into her hands. Just as I was about to get out of bed and say something, Mom pulled me out of the room. “Our Anna can’t bear to see such bloody things.” I sighed, tugging at Mom’s sleeve. “Mom, I’m safe now, and the ‘shadow’ won’t come out. You don’t have to be so…” “That won’t do!” Mom tapped my nose, leading me downstairs. “Mommy got you the new season’s handbags, and your favorite chocolate cake.” I leaned into Mom, rubbing against her. “I knew Mommy was the best to me.” Sounds of the rod hitting flesh, along with Jane’s muffled groans, came from upstairs. Before I could react, Mom quickly placed noise-canceling headphones over my ears. When I saw Jane again, he had already endured the family discipline, being supported by Helen, walking step by agonizing step towards his room. His face was ashen, and his gaze towards me was like poison. From that day on, they indeed quieted down. But I always had a faint feeling that things weren’t that simple. Jane and Helen no longer openly ordered me around or verbally abused me. They even managed to flash me a strained, almost friendly smile when Mom and Dad were present. But this only made me feel more uneasy. Mrs. Higgins secretly took my hand, her face filled with concern. “Miss Anna, be careful. I always feel like the way those two look at you isn’t right.” I nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Mrs. Higgins, you know, I’ll be fine.” This uncomfortable feeling lingered for several days. Until I went to the conservatory alone for some fresh air. Drifting in and out of sleep, I overheard Jane and Helen’s deliberately hushed conversation. Helen’s voice even had a whimper to it. “Jane, this can’t go on.” “Mom and Dad only have eyes for her now; there’s no place for us in the Maddox family.” After a brief silence, Jane’s low, cold voice replied. “I know.” “As long as Anna Maddox is still here, Mom and Dad will always focus on her. Everything in the Maddox family will revolve around her.” He paused, his tone unwavering. “So.” “Anna Maddox must die.”

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1 The first thing my ex-husband did after his “rebirth” was to bring his illegitimate son home, demanding I send our biological daughter to the countryside. Cradling the drooling, developmentally delayed child, his eyes burned with fervor: “This is the hope of our family! He’s a genius who will win the Nobel Prize someday!” “As for that worthless girl, she’ll only divide the inheritance. Get rid of her!” I watched the illegitimate son, still playing in the mud, and calmly signed the divorce papers. My ex-husband didn’t know that in the last life, this illegitimate child only became a genius because I quit my job, slept only three hours a day, spent all our savings visiting renowned doctors, and painstakingly tutored him for twenty years. And my own daughter, neglected and abandoned, ran away from home early, only to become a financial titan controlling the global economy. In this life, since you treasure the “genius” who needs his diapers changed for two decades, then I’ll take my “worthless” daughter and become the mother of a global billionaire. … I swiftly signed the divorce papers. Noah Stone didn’t even glance at me. He snatched the drooling illegitimate child, Adam, into his arms, his eyes burning with fanaticism. In his mind, he saw the colossal headline from the last life’s newspaper: “Chinese-American Scientist Adam Stone Awarded Nobel Prize in Physics.” That was the supreme glory he had missed. In this life, he would never let me steal that honor again! “This is the hope of our family! He’s a genius who will win the Nobel Prize someday!” he declared, almost shouting at me. “As for that worthless girl, she’ll only divide the inheritance. Get rid of her!” I looked at the illegitimate son, still playing in the mud, and snapped the pen cap shut with a crisp click. “My passport, driver’s license, everything’s in my bag. See you at the courthouse tomorrow at nine.” With that, I turned and walked toward our daughter Aurora’s room. Noah scoffed behind me. “Take that worthless girl, you two can starve for all I care.” I didn’t look back. The door had barely closed when my mother-in-law, Clara Stone, burst in, her voice shrill. “Noah Stone! Are you mad? You’re just letting her leave like that? What about Aurora? Aurora is our Stone grandchild!” She moved to rush toward Aurora’s room. Noah stopped her, his tone impatient. “Mom! What are you yelling about! Didn’t you see Adam is sleeping? It’s just a girl, let her go, it’s less trouble.” Clara paused, but her voice didn’t quiet down. “That’s not the same! How can she, Elizabeth Vance, a divorced woman, raise a child properly? Aurora will suffer with her! Make her leave the child!” I pushed the door open, leading Aurora, who was already wearing her coat, by the hand. Aurora’s small face was calm, unlike a five-year-old’s. She just clutched my hand tightly. I looked at Clara. “The child is mine, and I have full custody. The agreement states it clearly.” Clara’s eyes widened. She pointed a finger at me. “Elizabeth! Don’t you dare act ungrateful! Our Stone family supported you for so many years, and now you think you can just fly off? Take our Stone bloodline away? Dream on!” She reached out to grab Aurora. I stepped sideways to block her, shielding Aurora behind me. “Clara, try to touch her again.” She flinched, intimidated by the coldness in my eyes, and retreated half a step. Noah impatiently pulled a card from his wallet and tossed it onto the console by the door. “Alright! Stop yelling! Elizabeth, this is for you. Fifty thousand. It should be enough for you and that girl for a while. Don’t bother me again.” The card slid a short distance on the polished surface, stopping at my feet. Fifty thousand. A pittance for a beggar. I didn’t even bother to bend down. I took Aurora’s hand and walked straight past the card, opened the door, and left without looking back. Behind me, Adam’s cries suddenly escalated, and Noah frantically tried to soothe him. “Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry, my genius…” The elevator doors slowly closed, cutting off all sound. Aurora looked up at me, asking softly, “Mommy, where are we going?” I knelt down and tidied her collar. “We’re going to our new home.” Aurora nodded, as if understanding, and said no more, just holding my hand tighter. I took Aurora back to the old house to pack our things. The home that once echoed with our mother-daughter laughter was now eerily silent. In the living room, Noah was awkwardly feeding Adam, spilling formula everywhere. He saw me, his brows furrowing into a knot. “Why are you back again? Just get your things and leave. Don’t disturb me with Adam.” I ignored him, walking straight into the bedroom and pulling out two of the largest suitcases. Clara followed me in, hovering like an overseer. “Elizabeth, I’m telling you, this house belongs to my son. You won’t take anything extra from here.” Her eyes scrutinized every item I packed. I folded Aurora’s and my clothes one by one and placed them in the suitcase. “These were all part of my dowry before we married. This jewelry set was left to me by my mother.” I pointed to a box on the dressing table. Clara immediately pounced, pressing down on the box. “What ‘left to you by your mother’! Once it enters my Stone family’s door, it’s our Stone family’s property! You want to take it? No way!” Her hand gripped the box tightly. I stopped what I was doing, stood up, and watched her silently. She got a little spooked by my stare but still refused to let go. “What are you looking at! Am I wrong? You’re a woman who’s being thrown out; do you really think you can take such valuable things?” I didn’t argue with her. I just quietly took out my phone and started recording. “Say that again. Whose property is this?” Clara froze for a moment, then burst into a tirade. “It’s the Stone family’s! What can you do to me!” I put my phone away, no longer looking at her, and continued packing other things. A picture frame fell to the floor, the glass shattering. Inside was a photo of Aurora and me at the beach. Aurora walked over, carefully trying to pick up the photo. “Don’t touch it; you’ll cut your hand.” I pulled her back. Noah, hearing the sound from the living room, shouted impatiently, “Elizabeth! Can’t you hurry up! You’re dawdling, and if you break something, can you afford to replace it?” I pulled out the photo from the frame, untouched by the shattered glass, and slipped it into my pocket. Then I swept the empty frame and scattered glass into the trash. Clara, seeing that I was ignoring her, started yelling again. “Did you hear that? My son wants you to hurry up and leave! Don’t be an eyesore here!” I zipped up my suitcase with a dull thud. With a suitcase in each hand, and holding Aurora’s hand, I walked toward the door. As I passed the living room, I saw Adam throw his baby bottle on the floor and reach for a set of car keys Noah had forgotten on the coffee table, preparing to put them in his mouth. Noah, oblivious, was still engrossed in a “Genius Early Development Guide.” I walked straight out, not looking left or right. The door slammed shut behind me. I didn’t care if that child swallowed the keys, nor if that man could nurture a genius. I rented a small one-bedroom apartment in the city’s old town. Compared to the spacious, bright riverside apartment at the Stone’s, this place felt like a pigeon coop. Aurora, however, was very composed. She put down her small backpack and carefully surveyed her new “home.” “Mommy, where’s my bed?” I pointed to the small bed by the window, covered with a new cartoon bedspread I’d bought. “That will be your bed from now on.” She nodded, climbed onto it, tested it out, then flashed me a smile. “It’s soft.” My heart softened instantly. It was late by the time we settled in. After I told Aurora a bedtime story, she quickly fell asleep. I sat on the creaky sofa in the living room. My phone vibrated. It was a message from my friend, Lena Hayes. “How are things? Found a place to stay? Do you have enough money?” I replied that everything was fine, and then there was nothing more. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to say more; it was that I didn’t know where to begin. I opened my mobile banking app, looking at the paltry savings in my account, then remembered the card Noah had tossed on the floor. A wave of helplessness washed over me. I had to find a job quickly. Just then, my phone rang. It was Noah. I slid to answer, but didn’t speak. His voice, muffled with suppressed anger, came from the other end. “Elizabeth, did you take the washing machine manual?” I paused. “No.” “Then how do I use this new front-loader? My mom can’t figure it out; she’s getting water everywhere trying to do laundry!” “There’s a QR code on the door. Scan it for the digital manual.” “I don’t have time for that! You come back now and show my mom how to use it!” he ordered, as if it were his right. I was silent. In the last life, it was always like this. No matter where I went, he always found a way to drag me back to deal with the messes he and his mother couldn’t handle. And every single time, I softened and went back. “Noah Stone, we’re divorced.” I said, and hung up. My phone immediately began ringing incessantly. Annoyed, I kept hanging up, eventually just turning it off. I walked into the room, looking at Aurora’s peaceful sleeping face. The last vestiges of helplessness in my heart vanished. In this life, I would only live for her.

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1 After the divorce, I returned to my hometown, a broken man carrying my son’s ashes, and opened a small clinic. It had been ten years since I last saw Seraphina Vance. “Arthur, Leo’s back! I’ve come to take you home!” Her expression was solemn, even more earnest than when she confessed her love to me all those years ago. Leo, clinging to her arm, smirked, a brazen glint in his eyes. “Brother-in-law, I was too reckless back then, running away from home. It made my sister misunderstand you, thinking you forced me to my death.” “But she’s never truly moved on from you all these years. You shouldn’t be holding a grudge, hiding out here.” I stared at Seraphina, my face devoid of emotion. “Now that your beloved foster brother has returned, can I finally have my son back?” … Seraphina frowned, almost imperceptibly. “Arthur, I can apologize for what happened back then.” “You only lost a son and an arm, but Leo nearly had his reputation ruined and suffered out there for a full ten years!” “You need to let it go!” I opened my mouth, but the strength to argue had long left me. “You’re right. I’ve let it go. Please leave, both of you.” Ten years ago, the news that I, a dermatologist, had treated Leo for an STI leaked. In a fit of rage, Seraphina ordered her men to break my arm, destroying my career. “Leo is just a kid! How dare you slander his name, spread rumors that he had a venereal disease?” “Someone as malicious as you doesn’t deserve to be a doctor!” Soon after, she posted a video of me showering online. “Some people are constantly hooking up, can’t even wash off that disgusting stench of depravity!” Her parents, my in-laws, reprimanded her for going too far. Seraphina scoffed, “He slandered Leo and still refuses to admit it! Only by making him experience the pain of being slandered will he realize his mistake!” When it came to Leo, my in-laws remained silent. Overnight, our son was branded “the spawn of a deviant,” tormented at kindergarten, and became severely withdrawn. My reputation was ruined; I was fired from the hospital and vilified online. Frantic, I found the treatment reports, desperate to explain to Seraphina. But she didn’t even bother to glance at them, tossing them casually into the trash. “Still unrepentant, daring to forge evidence and continue to tarnish Leo’s name?” “What did such a pure and kind young man like Leo ever do to you, that you would so meticulously plot against him?” Leo, who had initially tearfully begged me for treatment, claiming he’d been accidentally infected by a promiscuous girlfriend and was filled with regret, now glared at me with venomous eyes. “Brother-in-law, I was only eighteen, still a child! How could you be so cruel to me?” “Do you have any idea how much harm those rumors caused me?” He buried his face in Seraphina’s embrace, sobbing. He claimed that on his way home from school, thugs would harass him, asking how much he charged for a night, and he’d nearly been assaulted by a drunkard… Seraphina’s face darkened instantly. She dragged me to the heart of the city’s bar district. “This trash is free to take!” “Men and women, young and old, no preferences!” “He can’t get pregnant, so no responsibility needed!” Countless drunken patrons, eyes gleaming, leered at me, their faces contorted in lewd smiles. I broke down, desperately clutching Seraphina. “No, you can’t do this to me! I really didn’t…” Her face remained impassive as she kicked my injured arm. The searing pain forced me to release her. “You need to deeply experience the suffering you inflicted on Leo!” “Don’t worry, this is just a small lesson, to make you remember!” “At the critical moment, the bodyguards will intervene!” She gently comforted Leo, walking away step by step. But once her figure disappeared, the drunken crowd surged forward like wild animals, tearing at my clothes. “No, don’t… help me!” I struggled wildly, reaching out to the bodyguards Seraphina had arranged. They merely gave a cold command. “Don’t kill him!” 2 I can’t recall how I ended up in the hospital. I only remember my colleague, tears streaming down her face, as she worked to save me. “How could Seraphina do this to you?” “She used to say you were the person she admired most, back when she was pursuing you.” I wanted to know too. How could the woman who once loved me so deeply inflict such cruelty? Why did she get to treat me this way? Battered and bruised, I was discharged three days later, a shell of my former self. I returned home like a zombie. Only my four-year-old son, seeing me, burrowed into my arms, his voice thick with injustice. “Daddy, all the kids pick on me! They call me the dirty man’s kid, they call my daddy…” I choked back tears, gently comforting him. “Little Ace, they’re lying. Daddy didn’t…” My son looked up, his eyes brimming with tears. “But everyone says you wronged Mommy. Many people saw your pictures from the bar online.” My heart lurched. I stared at Seraphina, disbelief warring with horror. “You… how could you…” I hadn’t been without my doubts. Perhaps, allowing those drunkards to brazenly assault me wasn’t Seraphina’s intention. Maybe Leo had acted on his own, and she was unaware. But now… I could no longer deceive myself. Seraphina frowned, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. “Leo only wanted to vent his anger, so he faked those photos and posted them online.” “Isn’t that what you did to him?” “When it’s your turn to be slandered, you can’t handle it? Then how dare you forge evidence to slander Leo?” I closed my eyes in despair, my heart completely broken. “Forged photos? Do you believe that?” “Do you truly not know what happened to me that night…?” Seraphina roared, cutting me off. “Enough! This matter ends here!” “Leo has decided not to pursue this further with you, so don’t be so petty and cling to it!” Perhaps to placate me, Seraphina sighed, then suddenly embraced me from behind, whispering, “Alright, I know you’re angry, I’ll make it up to you tonight.” “You know, even though Leo isn’t my biological brother, he’s been pampered since childhood and never suffered any hardships.” “As his brother-in-law, you shouldn’t be so petty with a child!” My body stiffened. The nightmare of that night flashed through my mind, making me tremble uncontrollably. I violently pushed Seraphina away, then vomited uncontrollably, retching until I brought up bile. Seraphina’s face turned ashen. “Arthur! What is the meaning of this?” “I haven’t even scorned you, and you dare to sulk and throw a tantrum at me?” “You malicious man, you’re filthy! And to think Leo was even worried you’d be angry, and persuaded me to comfort you…” Another pang of agony shot through my heart. So, her willingness to touch me was merely a task assigned by Leo? No, Leo probably just wanted her to see the scars covering my body, the damage inflicted by those drunkards. I completely lost the will to argue. “Since you detest me so much, let’s get a divorce.” I had married Seraphina with so much hope. Now, I yearned to escape this repulsive marriage with an equal measure of despair. Seraphina’s face grew even darker. “You are utterly irrational!” “All these years, I truly spoiled you rotten!” “Since you remain stubborn and unrepentant, I’ll revoke your privileges and give you time to reflect!” 3 Seraphina canceled my cards. Even though I had never spent a single penny from her black card’s supplementary account. The next morning, Leo beamed at the rows of limited-edition sneakers before him. “Sister, you’re the best!” He excitedly kissed Seraphina’s cheek. Seraphina dotingly ruffled his hair. “You silly child, isn’t it only natural for your sister to be good to you?” “Spending money on you makes me happy. You’re not like some people, who from beginning to end, show no gratitude and don’t know their place!” She curled her lips, her words laced with sarcasm. Then, she cast a cold glance my way. “What, finally admit you were wrong?” I nodded silently. I was indeed wrong, wrong to have loved her. Leo pouted. “Some people don’t admit they’re wrong, they just realize they’re out of money!” I offered no explanation, no rebuttal. Calmly, I produced the divorce papers and the bank card Seraphina had given me. “I have my own salary and savings; I’ve never spent a cent of yours.” “I will leave with nothing, taking not a single thread from the Vance estate.” “My only request is custody of Little Ace.” Seraphina froze instantly. “Arthur, you…” Leo secretly gloated, snatching the divorce papers to glance at them. Then he sighed, “Brother-in-law, why are you doing this? You know sister can’t bear to divorce.” “Even if you revealed your ugly true colors, for the sake of the child, sister would never kick you out.” “What’s the point of this charade?” I shot him a sidelong glance. “Shouldn’t you be happy that Seraphina and I are divorcing?” That way, no one would compete with him for his “good sister.” Leo instantly looked on the verge of tears, appearing utterly helpless. “Brother-in-law, what do you mean by that?” “I merely spoke the truth. How can you be so maliciously suspicious of me?” Seraphina’s face darkened. With a bang, she slammed her hand on the table. “Arthur, apologize to Leo!” I opened my mouth, a thought stirring within me. “Apologize? I can!” “Sign first!” Seraphina grew even angrier, grabbing the divorce papers and tearing them to shreds. “Put away your little tricks!” “Playing hard to get won’t work on me!” “I advise you to give up that fantasy! I will never let you succeed, and I will certainly not entrust my son to a scoundrel like you!” I couldn’t understand why she refused. Because of our son? Yet she herself had labeled Little Ace “the spawn of a deviant.” Because of feelings? Had she ever truly harbored feelings for me? However, since she cared so much for Leo… I took a deep breath, then pulled out a diligently collected file. “This is the evidence of Leo’s illness! And the surveillance video of him crying and begging me for treatment in my office, along with his treatment records…” Seraphina raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to slander Leo again?” I said calmly, “Whether it’s slander or not, the police and the judge will give me justice in court.” “If you refuse to divorce, I don’t mind going to court to sue for divorce.” “Your breaking my arm and utterly destroying me because of his lies is proof that our relationship has fractured.” “A woman as morally bankrupt and ruthless as you doesn’t deserve to be a mother!” Seraphina scoffed. “Go ahead, if you dare. I’d like to see how you continue to lie in court!” However, at that moment, Leo suddenly snatched a fruit knife from the table and lightly cut his wrist. He cried and screamed, raging loudly. “Brother-in-law, are you not satisfied until you’ve forced me to my death?” Seraphina’s face instantly changed. She snatched the fruit knife away and frantically helped Leo up. “Quick, to the hospital!” I could tell at a glance that Leo was faking it. But Seraphina violently pushed me, her eyes filled with murderous intent. “If anything happens to Leo, you will never be forgiven, even in a hundred deaths!”

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I’m blind, but my boyfriend, Ben, doesn’t seem to want me to regain my sight. So, without telling him, I secretly had my eyes treated. The day after I regained my sight, I discovered his secret. Behind Ben, dark purple tentacles stretched out. The sticky tentacles cautiously glided along the floor, invisibly wrapping around my ankles. Then, little by little, they turned pink. 1 “He’s hiding something from me.” I sat in a coffee shop, across from my friend and treating physician, Dr. Sam Riley. The “he” I spoke of was my boyfriend, Ben Hastings. “Why do you say that?” “I just feel… he’s been a little strange lately. His business trips are getting more and more frequent.” “And it seems like he doesn’t want me to regain my sight.” Sam dragged his chair closer, making a scraping sound. “Eliza, I think you’re overthinking it. Ben has invested dozens of state-of-the-art equipment in our hospital just to cure your eyes.” “When he’s not on business trips, he personally picks you up and drops you off for every follow-up appointment.” “And our conversations, besides you, are still about you.” Sam’s praises for Ben were endless. Who would have thought that three years ago, he regarded Ben as a monstrous threat? Saying Ben looked like some kind of “dark, brooding type,” and that he was only with me for “money and looks.” “But oh, if you’re talking about something strange, there actually is one thing…” “What are you two talking about?” A familiar scent of ocean breeze suddenly wafted beside me. It was Ben. I finished my coffee and smiled in his direction. “We were talking about when you’d arrive.” “Have you been waiting long?” Ben adjusted my collar, his cool fingertips brushing against the pulsing vein in my neck as he moved. I shook my head. “I just missed you.” Before Ben could respond, Sam first clicked his tongue, a little sickly sweet. “I feel incredibly radiant right now, so I’m out of here.” “Dr. Riley, take care. I’ve already paid the bill.” “Thanks, thanks.” I knew Sam’s perception of Ben must have become even more favorable. Although my perception of him was also very favorable. On the way back, Ben asked, “How were the results of this follow-up?” “Hmm… not very good.” I was lying. “It’s okay, we’ll take our time.” Having dated Ben for three years, I naturally recognized the sound. As he turned, he quietly let out a sigh of relief. 2 The next day, while Ben was at work, I dialed Sam’s number in the bathroom. —This was the only place in the house without surveillance cameras. “What were you trying to say yesterday?” “I heard from a nurse that Ben was seen talking with the new Dr. Carter recently.” “And both of them didn’t look very happy…” “Dr. Carter?” Sam stammered a little. “Yes, he’s a new urologist at our hospital. “But I don’t know much about him. He’s always kept to himself and doesn’t seem to have many acquaintances.” “So I couldn’t really ask him…” Silence. A moment later, Sam hesitantly spoke again. “Your boyfriend isn’t having it easy either…” I hung up the phone, feeling a bit annoyed and ashamed. After all, I was currently unemployed, stuck at home all day. I rested well during the day, so naturally, I was “energetic” at night. But was Ben entirely blameless? Who asked him to have such big chest muscles and such nice abs? It was practically an invitation. But what did this have to do with my eyes? Just as I was pondering, Ben’s call came through. “Did you have breakfast yet?” Whenever I was home alone, if I spent more than five minutes in the bathroom, he would subtly ask what I was doing. I feigned a yawn. “Yeah, just woke up, I’m about to eat. What about you, what are you doing?” “Just finished a meeting, have another one soon.” “So busy, tonight I…” Remembering my conversation with Sam earlier, I swallowed the words “I’ll treat you well.” “Tonight what?” “Tonight, let’s have a nice dinner.” Before Ben could reply, I faintly heard his assistant’s voice from his end of the phone. “Alright, that’s enough. Go to your meeting.” 3 In the evening, I habitually slipped my hand under Ben’s shirt to “warm up.” Less than two seconds later, I pulled my hand back. “Sweetheart?” Ben’s voice held a touch of confusion. He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his abs again. I squeezed. Felt so good. Then I pulled my hand back again. If I could see right now, I would notice Ben pouting, looking on the verge of tears. Sensing the deep sense of hurt emanating from Ben, I fumbled and pressed a heavy kiss on his face. “I’m a little tired. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” “Okay…” Ben didn’t press further, just adjusted his position to make me more comfortable. In my dream, I was in a damp rainforest, entangled by countless giant pythons. My calves twitched uncontrollably. The snake’s tongue glided across my skin, making a soft, sighing sound. Waking up the next day, I carefully touched my limbs and waist. They were clean, without a single mark. But was it really just a dream? “Sweetheart, I need to go on a business trip. I’ll be back in three days.” “Okay.” In just half a month, Ben had already been on four business trips. Noticing that I seemed a little down, Ben rested his head on my lap, his arm circling my waist. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. That project has been really busy lately…” “Once it’s over, how about we go on a trip together?” “Is there anywhere you’d like to go?” I thought of last night’s dream, but a different answer slipped out: “The beach.” “The beach?” Ben’s arm tightened. “Yeah, you know, I used to love diving.” “So I want to smell the sea breeze again sometime.” “Alright, the beach it is.” 4 While Ben was away on his business trip, I went to the hospital again. “You’re looking a bit too refreshed, aren’t you?” Sam clicked his tongue lightly. I answered expressionlessly, “I’m sexually frustrated.” Sam cleared his throat, clearly not wanting to continue that topic. “However, all your indicators in today’s check-up are excellent. Congratulations.” “Thank you.” “Aren’t you excited? You’ll be able to see soon.” “Very excited.” “Boring. But I actually thought you’d want Ben to be with you on such a crucial day.” I couldn’t help but rub the corner of my sweater. “I still feel he doesn’t really want me to regain my sight. So please keep it a secret for now.” The world after regaining my sight was somewhat magical. Countless colors vibrated endlessly, and amidst the chaos, gradually connected with the concepts in my mind. Like a puzzle piece, finally falling into its long-awaited empty spot at a certain moment. “Hey, can you see?” Sam’s face enlarged in my vision. To be honest, it was a bit distracting. Why wasn’t it Ben? “Yes.” “That’s great!” I smiled genuinely. “Thank you for your hard work these past four years.” “Oh, we’re friends. Just treat me to a big meal sometime.” “I want to walk around by myself.” Sam gave an understanding smile. “I get it.” I picked up the white cane beside me, let go, but then gripped it again. I tentatively took a step, experiencing the moment my shoe sole touched the ground with my eyes. One step, two steps. Drip. I turned my head and looked out the window. It was raining. 5 Ben and I first met on a rainy day. That day, I suddenly wanted to walk in the rain, so I only brought my white cane. But after walking a short distance, my path was blocked by an electric scooter parked on the tactile paving. Rain hammered around me, and my white cane felt like an oar floating on water, leaving me disoriented. A vast emptiness enveloped me, leaving me adrift. Strangely, I even felt an urge to throw away my white cane. But suddenly, the rain stopped around me. An umbrella shielded my head, followed by a faint scent of ocean breeze. “Hello, um, do you… need help?” The man’s voice was deep and magnetic, but his hesitant, stumbling speech made him sound awkwardly charming. Judging by his voice, he was probably about ten centimeters taller than me. I turned my head, slightly lifting my face, deliberately tilting my rain-drenched face towards him. The man’s breathing softened even more. “Yes, could you… could you take me home?” If you’re a bad guy, could you take me to your home? Lock me up. Or bury me. But he wasn’t. “Alright, um, forgive my intrusion.” He merely carefully circled my forearm with his cool hand, guiding my way. I could feel the glances that occasionally fell on me. Somewhat warm, yet not intrusive. “Here we are.” I stood at the door, tilting my head. “Would you like to come in for a bit?” “Would it be…?” “I’m alone at home, and I’m a little scared.” Even though I hadn’t eaten pork, I had seen many pigs run. In less than fifteen minutes, I had extracted most of Ben’s personal information. “So we live so close to each other, huh?” “Then, if you have time later, would you mind coming over to keep me company?” I changed into a silk nightgown, curled up on the sofa, and asked him. “Alright, yes.” From seeing each other once every half week, it gradually evolved into twice a day. Ben’s methods for pursuing me weren’t sophisticated, but they were heartfelt. Like a loyal dog, he’d offer me everything he thought was best. 6 “Are you… Eliza Shen?” “Unknowingly,” I had walked to the entrance of the Urology Department. The man opposite me was taller than I was, wearing a white lab coat, and I couldn’t clearly read the name on his badge. He wore rimless glasses, and his long hair was tied back. “Hello?” I still pretended to be blind. “My name is Noah Carter. I’m Ben Hastings’s, uh… friend.” It seemed he was the “Dr. Carter.” Seeing my “confused” look, Noah understood. “I’m a doctor here, just started working at this hospital recently.” “Ben and I were neighbors when we were kids, but we weren’t very close.” “So it’s normal that he hasn’t mentioned me to you.” Neighbor. I chewed on those two words in my mind several times. “Hmm… what was Ben like when he was little?” Noah opened his mouth, seeming to ponder his choice of words. We stopped at the hospital entrance. He finally answered my question. “My personal advice… keep your distance from him.” “What are you doing?” I was suddenly pulled into Ben’s embrace. He was still warm, having just gotten out of his car. Noah shrugged. “I only told Ms. Shen what I needed to tell her.” “And I also advise you to agree to our terms as soon as possible.” “Otherwise, more than just you will suffer.” After Noah left, I asked Ben, “Ben, what are you doing here?” “Came back early. Saw no one at home, thought you must be at the hospital.” “Did Noah say anything strange to you just now?” “No. He just started speaking when you arrived.” Seeing Ben’s furrowed brow because of Noah, I felt a little annoyed. I raised my hand and wrapped it around Ben’s waist. “Did you miss me?” Ben’s previously serious expression immediately softened. He gently rubbed his nose against my forehead. “Very, very much.” 7 When I woke up the next day, Ben had already gone to work. I rolled over, snuggled into his side of the bed, and turned on the surveillance footage. Although Ben hadn’t installed cameras in the bathroom, I had. I dragged the timeline to the moment he entered the bathroom. Ben, freshly awake, had slightly messy hair, his mature features looking a bit boyish. I watched him silently, with my headphones on, as he washed up and spaced out. At 6 minutes and 27 seconds, I saw what I wanted to see. A dark purple tentacle emerged from behind Ben, reaching for the bathroom door. Ben met the tentacle’s “gaze” in the mirror, his eyes filled with warning. The tentacle then timidly retreated, leaving behind a noticeable wet stain. Ben sighed in resignation, and began to wipe away the traces it left behind. I repeatedly dragged the progress bar. Watching it over and over. It wasn’t until my newly restored eyes began to shed physiological tears that I reluctantly turned off my phone. So this was Ben’s secret. So when Ben came home from work, I was already sitting on the sofa waiting. While Ben stood in the entryway, bending down to change his slippers, my eyes greedily traced him from top to bottom. Face. Back. Waist. Hips. Legs. If I ignored the tentacles that were already joyfully rolling around in front of me. Unlike the initial dark purple, the tentacles before me were now pink. Was it because they were happy to see me? How cute. 8 “By the way, Ben, I want to take a medicinal bath today.” “Why the sudden urge for a medicinal bath?” Ben approached, kneeling before me, looking up into my eyes. As he drew closer, the tentacles behind him gradually retracted. I lowered my eyes with a hint of regret. “Sweetheart?” Ben’s tone was filled with concern. After all, I usually took a medicinal bath once a month, but I had just taken one two weeks ago. “I just want to relax a bit, okay?” Ben, his ears turning red, agreed. “Okay.” He walked into the kitchen and brought out a glass of milk. “Drink your milk first. I’ll go run the hot water.” I nodded, taking a small sip of milk in front of him. Then, as he entered the bathroom, I poured the remaining milk into the potted plant beside me. Before long, Ben carried me into the bathtub. He tied a black silk ribbon over my eyes, covering my sight. He said it was to prevent the steaming heat of the medicinal bath from getting into my eyes. “Soak for a while first. I’ll gradually add the medicine.” “Mhm.” After a while, a familiar drowsiness crept in. I pretended to lose my strength, letting my entire weight press against Ben. At the same time, I used the movement to loosen the silk ribbon over my eyes. “Sweetheart? Eliza?” I didn’t respond. In the shadowy darkness, water was already overflowing. But I could no longer see below my waist. Pink tentacles crowded the bathtub, writhing continuously. So this was the “medicinal bath”? I slowly sank lower into the water, but a strong pair of hands supported my waist. A soft kiss and a whisper fell beside my ear. “Eliza, I love you.”

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