Category: English

The man I called my uncle, Jayden Lloyd, was drugged with an aphrodisiac. In his haze, I became his only way out. After a night of reckless intimacy, we woke up. My grandfather demanded that he marry me, since we were not related by blood. Jayden believed a forced marriage would destroy his love. In a drunken spiral, he threw himself onto the railway tracks. I tried to save him, ending up losing both of my legs. With his eyes red and swollen, Jayden finally agreed to the marriage. However, on our wedding night, he dumped me in the basement of a nightclub. I was tied to a bed. He sat not far away and watched with open amusement. After round after round of humiliation, I found my chance to set the window drapes on fire. The flames consumed the entire club, including Jayden and me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Jayden was drugged. Uncle Jayden, this time, I chose to let you have your love. *** The man pressed against me suddenly tightened his grip around my waist, and the sharp pain jolted me awake. The moment I opened my eyes, I met my uncle Jayden Lloyd’s bloodshot gaze, thick with a desire so deep that it seemed bottomless. Instinctively, I looked around. None of the revolting sex toys were in sight. I took a careful breath. Even the heavy, obscene scent that had once filled the air was gone. Jayden increased the pressure of his hand. “Did you not understand what I said? Take your clothes off.” Only then did it hit me that I had reborned to the very night he was drugged. He was so close that my mind blurred, dragged back to my previous life?to the men who had once piled on top of me. One of them had pressed his foul-smelling lips against my neck. Another had yanked my clothes apart, letting out a leering laugh. I forced myself to stop thinking about it and opened my mouth, biting down hard on Jayden’s arm. “Get off me!” Jayden cried out. The pain snapped him partially back to his senses. When he saw my crooked neckline, something flickered in his eyes, an instant of awkward restraint, only to be replaced by disgust the next second. “Winifred, you are disgusting.” “Do not think that sleeping with me means I will ever like you,” he added coldly. My heart clenched in pain. Thinking about how I had died so horribly in my previous life, I wanted nothing more than to rush into the kitchen and stab him. But I could not. Grandpa adored him, and I could not destroy myself for his sake all over again. I swallowed my revulsion and spoke evenly. “Where is your girlfriend? I will go get her.” Jayden froze for a moment. “How did you know I have a girlfriend?” “Is this really the time to ask that?” I looked straight at him. He studied me for two full seconds, suspicion filling his eyes. Finally, he gave me an address. “I want to see her within half an hour.” I nodded and drove as fast as I could. When I returned with his girlfriend, only twenty minutes had passed. Yvonne Juniper stepped out of the car with unsteady legs, her eyes rimmed red. “Jayden, I do not know how I offended her,” she complained in a soft, aggrieved tone as she clung to him. “She drove the entire way like a maniac. I was scared to death.” The sharp, biting voice she had used to mock me in the car was nowhere to be found. When Yvonne noticed Jayden’s flushed face, she paused slightly, fake surprise flashing across her eyes. “Jayden, are you okay? Do you feel unwell anywhere? I can go to the hospital with you?” she said anxiously. Before she could finish, Jayden pulled her inside. The door slammed shut in front of me. At last, my heart settled. This time, the twisted bond between Jayden and me would not continue.

Yvonne had been my classmate. She came from a poor family, and often could not even bring herself to buy expensive organic vegetables. I often lied and said I had ordered too much food, so she would join me for meals. During Christmas, she complained about being alone, so I brought her home with me. Even though we had maids who cooked, she still got up early to help. Every evening, Yvonne asked each of us about our preferences and planned dinner accordingly. I truly believed I had found a friend for life. But later, everything changed. The emerald pendant Jayden had given me suddenly went missing. I searched the entire villa and eventually found shattered pieces in the kitchen. That pendant had been a gift from Jayden. I had treasured it beyond measure. I had only told Yvonne where I kept the emerald pendant, as well as about my feelings for Jayden, feelings that now seemed cheap and disgraceful. When I confronted her, she stood outside my house in thin clothing and said, “I just did it by accident.” Blinded by anger, I had people throw all her belongings out, even though she had nowhere to go. She got up from the ground and limped away, step by step. At the doorway, she ran into Jayden. Seeing how weak she looked, Jayden felt a surge of pity. I had been angry, yet I had also been afraid that Jayden would learn about my feelings for him and grow distant from me. In the end, I could only let her scheme succeed. What I had not expected was for them to become lovers. Yvonne sent me intimate photos again and again. I told Jayden about the things Yvonne had done in the past, but he refused to believe me. “You only care about marriage alliances. You have no idea what true love is!” Jayden shouted at me in fury. The situation turned ugly. Jayden eventually moved out of the house altogether. Tonight, Grandpa asked me to deliver some documents to Jayden. When I arrived at his place, I ran into him while he was under the influence of drugs. But after remembering the provocative look in Yvonne’s eyes before she entered earlier, I finally understood. This had all been a trap she had set. For a girl from a poor background who wanted to marry into a wealthy family, drugging the target was the most direct method. In my previous life, I had ruined everything. This time, I was going to watch Jayden walk straight into it himself.

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The fluorescent lights of City Hall’s Marriage Bureau hummed overhead like a swarm of accusatory wasps. I sat alone on the hard plastic chair, my hands clenched so tight my knuckles had gone white. Seven times. This was the seventh goddamn time. My phone buzzed against my thigh. I didn’t need to look at the screen to know it was Seraphina. Again. The same excuses wrapped in different words, the same poison dripping with honey. The clerk-a middle-aged woman with kind eyes that had seen too many almost-marriages-leaned over her desk. “Mr. Grant? Are we… still proceeding today?” My throat constricted. The words tasted like ash. “Yeah. We’re proceeding.” Just not with who you think. I pulled up my contacts, my thumb hovering over a name I’d been avoiding for weeks. Zara Brooks. My Dude’s sister. The woman who’d proposed the most insane solution to my problems three months ago: a fake marriage. “Come on, Ethan,” she’d said, leather jacket slung over one shoulder, that infuriating smirk playing at her lips. “You need to get your family off your back. I need to shut my parents up about settling down. It’s a win-win.” I’d laughed it off then. Told her I was committed to Seraphina. That we’d work it out. Seven broken promises later, here I was. The call connected on the second ring. “Grant.” Zara’s voice was husky, like she’d just woken up. Or maybe she was mid-cigarette on that death trap motorcycle of hers. “Finally ready to stop being pathetic?” I closed my eyes. “City Hall. Marriage Bureau. How fast can you get here?” A pause. Then I heard the roar of an engine. “Already on my way.”

I’d barely hung up when my phone lit up again. This time, I looked. Seraphina: Babe, I’m SO sorry! Liam twisted his ankle playing basketball. He needs me right now. Can we reschedule? The office will still be there tomorrow! ?? The laugh that escaped my throat was bitter enough to curdle milk. The clerk glanced up, concerned. “You okay, honey?” I wasn’t. I hadn’t been okay for six months. Not since Liam Sterling-Seraphina’s “best friend,” her childhood everything, her eternal excuse-had moved back to town. Before Liam, Seraphina used to look at me like I hung the moon. She’d skip work to bring me lunch when I was drowning in blueprints. She’d memorize my coffee order, my favorite songs, the exact way I liked to be held when the panic attacks came. My fingers moved on autopilot, pulling up Liam’s number-because of course I had it, because Seraphina had insisted we all be “one big happy family.” He answered on the first ring. Seraphina’s voice in the background, fussing over him. “Hey, Ethan.” Liam’s tone was syrupy sweet. “Sorry about today, man. You know how it is. I really needed-” “Tell Seraphina,” I cut him off, my voice dead calm, “that I’m done. Tell her she can spend every single day for the rest of her life taking care of you. Because I’m officially out.” I hung up before he could respond. The roar of a motorcycle shattered the sterile quiet of City Hall’s lobby. Through the glass doors, I watched Zara Brooks dismount her Ducati like she was stepping off a battlefield-all controlled violence and careless grace. She pulled off her helmet, and her dark hair tumbled out in waves that caught the afternoon light. Every head in the waiting area turned. Zara had that effect on people. She pushed through the doors, her leather jacket creaking, her combat boots echoing against the linoleum. When she reached me, she didn’t sit down. Just cocked her hip against the chair beside me, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. “So?” Her voice was low, challenging. “You finally ready to stop letting that blonde leech drain you dry?” I met her eyes-ice blue and unflinching. “I need this. My grandfather…” My voice cracked. Zara’s expression softened, just barely. “I know,” she said quietly. “Leo told me. About the cancer.” Right. Of course Leo had told his sister. My best friend since high school, the guy who’d held me together through my parents’ divorce, through every failed architecture pitch, through Grandpa’s diagnosis. The same guy who’d suggested this crazy scheme in the first place. “Your grandpa wants to see you married before…” Zara didn’t finish. She didn’t have to. “And my parents are threatening to set me up with some trust fund douchebag if I don’t ‘settle down soon.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. “We help each other. Simple transaction.” “Nothing about this is simple.” “Then make it simple.” She held out her hand. “You coming or not, Grant?” I looked at her hand-calloused from working on her bikes, strong, steady. Nothing like Seraphina’s delicate fingers that had pushed me away seven times. I took it.

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My parents’ love story was legendary. General Catherine Thorne—decorated war hero. Dr. Julian Vane—world-renowned neurosurgeon. Mother’s chest glittered with medals. One space remained empty. She’d sacrificed the highest honor to save Father from a conspiracy years ago. The elite private estate outside the city—The Vane Institute—was Mother’s gift to him. So he’d feel safe. The day I was born, she summoned the entire honor guard to our gates. They played victory marches all night. People said I was the only proof their legendary love was real. When I turned five, a handsome man became a regular at our home. He was always by Mother’s side. One day, he cornered me in the garden. Stroked the pony Mother had given me. His smile was gentle. And cruel. “You know your father’s old, right? His hands shake too much to hold a scalpel anymore.” “Only I can protect your mother’s future. Soon, I’ll be the master here.” I didn’t quite understand. But I told Father what he said. The next day, the news reported on that man. Former elite sniper Liam—permanent nerve damage to both hands. An ‘accident.’ Father was in his study, polishing his scalpel. The blade gleamed. He looked up at me, voice calm as glass. “Asher, I took out the trash for you. Do you like your gift?” – “Mother, when did you get back?” Her face was thunder-dark. Still in full uniform. Combat boots thudded against marble as she blew past me without a glance. Straight to Father’s study. BANG. She kicked the door open. Father sat at his desk, methodically polishing a silver scalpel with a velvet cloth. “Julian! Was it you?” Her voice was ice shattering on concrete. Foreign. Cold. “Liam’s hands are ruined! His entire life is destroyed! Do you understand how important he is to me? To the entire division?” Father raised his eyes. Those eyes that had saved countless lives. Now they held nothing. Not even boredom. “Trash in my way. I cleaned it up. Problem?” “You—” Mother’s chest heaved. She ripped a black pistol from her hip. Aimed it at Father’s head. “He’s a genius! The division’s top marksman! I pulled every string to transfer him to my unit, and you dare destroy him?” My legs went weak. I knew that gun. Mother’s office wall displayed targets it had shredded. Perfect bullseyes. I threw myself between them, arms spread wide. “Don’t you hurt him!” The fury in Mother’s eyes flickered when she saw me. The barrel dipped. Father pulled me into his arms. His heart hammered, but his grip was iron. Then he laughed. Low and mocking. “So. Your protégé means more than your own son.” Mother’s face flushed red, then white. She holstered the weapon. But her eyes turned colder. “Catherine, you disappoint me.” “Liam only admires me. He’s done nothing wrong! You’re the one who can’t tolerate anyone!” “Starting today, he moves in. I’ll personally care for him until he recovers.” “You owe him this.” She turned and left without another glance. This house is collapsing. The next day, Liam moved in.

Mother personally wheeled him through the door. The staff kept their heads down, barely breathing. He got the guest room next to my parents’ bedroom. My favorite room—the one with the best light. Mother hired the best nurses. Twenty-four-hour care. She moved her office into his room. Said she needed to work while keeping him company. Overnight, the house belonged to Liam. He was a talented actor. When Mother was around, he slumped in his chair, weak and breathless. Eyes always red-rimmed. “Catherine, this is my fault. If I hadn’t admired you so much, hadn’t stayed so close, the doctor wouldn’t have misunderstood.” “My hands don’t matter. As long as I can see you every day, I’m content.” Mother looked at him with guilt. Tenderness. “Don’t worry. I’ll make him give you an answer.” But the moment she left, Liam’s eyes went venomous. He ordered the nurses to throw out all my limited-edition spacecraft models. “Five years old and playing with baby toys.” He sneered, crooked a finger. “Come here.” I didn’t move. His eyes went ice-cold. “Tell Julian this is interest. His precious son belongs to me now.” I ran crying to Father. He was in the greenhouse, trimming rose bushes. After I told him, he snipped an overgrown branch.Spoke softly. “Asher, don’t cry.” “Remember—when a rabid dog bites you, you don’t kill it immediately.” “First, you pull its teeth. Cut its claws. Make sure it can’t bark or scratch.” “Then, slowly, you watch it writhe in desperation.” I didn’t fully understand. But the hurt faded. That evening, doctors in white coats flooded the house. Mother’s subordinates. Father’s colleagues. Mother thought Father was surrendering. Her expression softened. She even spoke to him before dinner. At the table, Father raised his wine glass and stood. Smiled with practiced elegance. “I’ve gathered you all here today to bear witness.” The dining room fell silent. Mother and Liam watched him. Liam’s mouth held a hint of triumph. “Mr. Simth suffered permanent nerve damage from an ‘accident.’ As a physician, I’m deeply troubled.” “Therefore, I’ve decided to provide all subsequent rehabilitation therapy free of charge. I’ll mobilize every resource and personally assemble a recovery team until he… recovers.” He emphasized the word ‘recovers.’ Mother’s and Liam’s faces changed instantly. Let the man who destroyed a sniper’s hands personally administer ‘rehabilitation therapy’? This wasn’t treatment. This was slow torture with surgical precision. Father set down his glass. Crystal clinked against marble. He looked at Liam’s pale face, smile growing warmer. Words turning the air frigid. “Mr. Simth, tomorrow morning, eight sharp at the rehabilitation center. Oh—the first treatment is high-intensity electrical nerve stimulation. Excellent for regeneration.” “It might hurt a bit. Try to endure it.” Mother nearly exploded. But the room was packed with military and medical elite. All of them sharks. She swallowed her rage. “Julian, you—” Father interrupted smoothly. “What? General Thorne doesn’t trust my skills?” He paused. Eyes swept to the assembled doctors. Perfect smile. “Or do you think I’m settling a personal vendetta?” The air froze. Someone rushed to smooth things over. “Dr. Vane’s expertise is world-class. We trust him completely.” “Absolutely. Having Dr. Vane personally oversee rehabilitation—Mr. Simth is fortunate.” “Indeed. General, you can rest easy.” They nodded like the bobblehead toys in my room. Mother’s face went black as her polished boots. She understood. Father was forcing her hand. In front of these people, she couldn’t question her husband’s expertise. Couldn’t admit he was retaliating. That would mean airing dirty laundry, admitting she couldn’t control her own household. For a decorated general, that was unbearable humiliation. Liam trembled in his wheelchair. Under the bandages, his hands seemed to throb. He glared at Father with poisonous hatred. “Julian, don’t get cocky! Catherine won’t let you get away with this!”

Father smiled. Walked to Liam. Looked down at him. Voice gentle as a doctor soothing a difficult patient. “Mr. Simth, relax. Stress hinders recovery.” “The first step in nerve rehabilitation is electrical awakening therapy. Don’t worry—I’ll personally control the current intensity, ensuring precise stimulation of every damaged nerve ending. We’ll monitor your pain threshold in real-time for optimal therapeutic effect.” “The process might be… stimulating. But for recovery, you must endure.” Liam’s face drained of color. Electrical shock. Torture. I could picture him convulsing like a fish out of water. Mother finally snapped. Slammed the table. Plates jumped. “Enough! Julian, do you have to be this ruthless?” Father’s smile vanished. He turned, cold eyes fixed on her. “I’m ruthless? Catherine, when you brought this man into our home, did you think about my feelings?” “When you pointed that gun at me, did you remember we’re married?” “When you let him torment your son, did you remember you’re a mother?” “You destroyed this family step by step. You destroyed everything between us!” His voice wasn’t loud. But each word struck like a hammer. The dining room went silent as a tomb. Mother’s lips moved. No sound came out. Her chest heaved violently. Father took my hand and walked away. “Asher, we’re going home.” This was our home. But he said it like we were leaving a cold hotel. After that night, Mother surrendered. She couldn’t risk her career and reputation. Liam’s ‘rehabilitation therapy’ was set. At the Institute Mother had gifted Father years ago. The next day, Father and I moved there. He said the house was too dirty. Needed deep disinfection. The Institute was beautiful, like a castle from a fairy tale. But every nurse and doctor bowed when they saw Father. Eyes full of reverence and fear. Liam’s treatment room was at the corridor’s end. Soundproof. I snuck a look once. Through thick observation glass, I saw Liam strapped to a table with leather restraints. Father wore a white coat, mask, and goggles. Eyes focused and cold. He held two metal probes, moving them slowly across Liam’s arms. Each touch made Liam’s body jerk violently. His throat produced sounds caught between screaming and whimpering. The noise scraped my eardrums like a cat’s claws. Acidic. Painful. I ran back to my room and hid under the blankets, shaking. Mother came to see me once. She’d lost weight. Eyes bloodshot. Uniform wrinkled, reeking of smoke. She held me, voice hoarse as sandpaper. “Asher, I know your father was wronged.” “But Liam… he doesn’t deserve this.” “Talk to your father. Tell him to stop. Liam’s going to lose his mind.” I looked up at her seriously. “Mother, do you still love him?” She froze. Her arms stiffened. She didn’t answer for a long time. Just held me tighter. Chin resting on my head. “Asher, the adult world is complicated. You’ll understand when you’re older.” I didn’t understand. I only knew adults called their own failures ‘complicated.’ Liam’s screams became the Institute’s daily soundtrack. A month later, he was released. Emaciated beyond recognition. Eyes vacant. A puppet with its strings cut. He cowered at the sight of anyone, muttering constantly: “No more shocks… please… no more…” He’d lost his mind. When Mother came for him, she saw his state. This iron-willed woman’s eyes turned blood-red. She didn’t scream. Didn’t rage. Just looked at Father. Eyes like a bottomless well. “Julian, you won.” Father removed his glasses. Polished them slowly with velvet. Voice equally calm. “No. The war has just begun.” Mother carried the broken Liam away. Back resolute. I thought it was over. I was wrong. Mother’s retaliation came faster. Harder. She targeted what Father treasured most. Not his career. Not his reputation. Me.

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The car pulled onto the emergency shoulder of the highway, and I figured Ethan needed to use the bathroom. “Sophie’s asleep. Keep it down.” I pulled the little blanket up over my daughter’s shoulders. Ethan didn’t look back. His fingers tapped the steering wheel. “Claire. Take Sophie and get out.” I stared at him. “What?” From the back seat, Vanessa’s voice came out soft and smooth. “Ethan, it’s fine. We can squeeze.” Her daughter Madison immediately started crying. “I don’t want to sit next to that dirty kid! She was coughing on me!” Ethan turned around. His eyes were colder than I’d ever seen them. “You hear me? Get out.” “Beth’s already on her way. She’ll be here in thirty minutes.” “You two wait here.” December 28th. The interstate. Twelve degrees. I climbed out holding my three-year-old daughter. I watched him start the engine. The taillights got smaller in the snow. Until they were gone. The snow came down harder. I stood at the guardrail on the shoulder, trying to use my body to block the wind. “Mommy, where’s Daddy?” Sophie asked. Her cheeks were already red from the cold. “Daddy went ahead to Grandma’s.” I forced a smile. “Aunt Beth’s coming to get us.” “But it’s cold.” I wrapped her inside my coat and wound my scarf around her head. My phone was at thirty percent. I called Beth. Once. Twice. Three times. She picked up. “Claire? What’s up?” There was noise in the background. A karaoke bar, by the sound of it. “Beth, your brother sent you to come get us. Where are you?” “Oh, right.” A pause. “Yeah, he did mention that.” “But I’m out with friends right now. Can’t really leave.” “Just hang tight. I’ll head over later.” “Beth, it’s freezing on the highway. Sophie can’t take this.” “God, Claire, you’re so dramatic. What’s a little wait?” “Ethan said Vanessa and Madison couldn’t handle the cold. They had to get back right away.” “You’re both fine. You’re not gonna die from waiting.” She hung up. I stood there holding the phone, my fingers too stiff to move. I called Ethan. Straight to voicemail. Again. Same thing. Sophie shivered in my arms. “Mommy, I wanna go home.” “Soon. We’ll be home soon.” I kissed her forehead. My eyes burned. Four years of marriage. And this was the first time I understood how far Ethan could actually go. Willing to leave his own wife and daughter stranded on the interstate in a snowstorm. Because Vanessa’s kid didn’t want to sit next to mine. Headlights appeared in the distance. I waved like my life depended on it. A black SUV slowed and stopped in front of us. The window came down. A young guy. “Need help?” I grabbed onto it like a lifeline. “Can you take us to the next rest stop? That’s all I need.” He looked at Sophie in my arms and frowned. “Get in.” “Thank you. Oh my God, thank you.” I reached for the door handle. “Claire?” I froze. Another head leaned out from the back seat.

It was Ethan’s cousin, Jake. He looked at me. Then at the empty stretch of highway behind me. “What are you doing out here? Where’s Ethan?” I gave him the short version. Jake’s face went stone hard. “He lost his mind? He left you and Sophie out here?” “Vanessa’s kid is a person. Isn’t his own daughter?” He swore a few times, then turned to the driver. “Mike, let them in. We’ll make it work.” The front was already full. The back seat next to Jake was packed too. “There’s no room,” the driver said. Jake was already getting out. “Then you guys go. I’ll wait here.” “You can’t do that.” “Go!” Jake pushed me toward the car. “Sophie’s lips are turning purple. She can’t stay out here.” I got in the back with Sophie. The heat hit me like a wall. My frozen body started to sting. Jake shut the door and knocked on the window. “Claire, call me when you get to the rest stop. I’ll have my brother come get you.” “Jake, it’s freezing. What are you going to do?” “I’m a grown man. I’ll survive. Take care of the kid. Go.” The car pulled away. I watched Jake through the back window, standing in the snow, getting smaller. My throat tightened. My husband left us on the side of the road. And the person who saved us was someone who barely owed us anything. Sophie fell asleep in my arms. Her little face was still that wrong shade of red. I pressed my hand to her forehead. Burning hot. “Can you go faster? My daughter has a fever.” The driver nodded and sped up. I grabbed my phone to call Beth again. No signal. Mountain stretch. “How far to the rest stop?” “Twelve miles. But in this weather, at least thirty minutes.” Thirty minutes. I held Sophie tighter and kept touching her forehead. Hotter and hotter. “Baby. Hey. Wake up. Don’t sleep.” Sophie’s eyes cracked open, dazed. “Mommy, I don’t feel good.” “I know. We’re almost at the hospital. Hold on.” Then she started coughing. Hard. Her whole face went purple. I patted her back. The tears came. “Please, faster. Please.” “This is as fast as I can go! The road’s icy!” Sophie’s coughing got worse. Her breathing turned into a wheeze. “Mommy. I can’t breathe.” I pulled her coat open. Her chest was heaving. I recognized it. Acute pneumonia. She’d had it once before, when she was two. We almost lost her then. “Sophie. Look at me. Keep your eyes open.” “I’ll tell you a story. About the little bunny.” Her eyelids drooped. Her breathing went thin. I slammed my palms on the window. “Help! She’s not okay! Somebody help!” But it was a highway. Just snow and wind and nothing else.

We finally pulled into the rest stop. I ran into the convenience store with Sophie in my arms, barely able to make a sound. “Is there a doctor? My daughter needs help. Please.” The clerk looked terrified. “There’s no doctor here.” “Call 911. Now.” “The cell tower’s down. We can’t get through.” My legs gave out. I caught myself on the counter. Sophie had gone quiet in my arms. The motel manager at the rest stop dug around and found a box of fever reducers and some antibiotics. “Try giving her these?” My hands shook so badly I couldn’t get the packaging open. Sophie lay across my lap. Her breathing was barely there. I crushed a tablet and tried to get it into her mouth. She didn’t have the strength to swallow. It dribbled out the side of her lips. “Baby. Swallow it. Please.” The manager looked away. “I could drive you to the county hospital. But in this snow, the road might be closed.” “Drive. Right now. Please.” I pushed every dollar in my wallet into his hands. “Please.” He clenched his jaw. “Alright. Let’s go.” The car crawled through the snow. Every bump made Sophie’s body go a little more limp. I held her hand and kept talking. “Sophie. You know how you’ve been asking about Disney World? Mom’s gonna take you.” “We’ll ride the biggest carousel they have.” “And you wanted the Elsa dress, right? We’re getting it.” “And Universal Studios. They have the Transformers ride. You love those guys.” Her lashes fluttered. But her eyes didn’t open. My phone suddenly buzzed. Signal. I called Ethan. It rang a long time. He picked up. “Yeah.” Background was quiet. He was home. “Ethan.” My voice had nothing left in it. “Sophie’s really sick. It’s serious.” “Where are you?” Perfectly calm. Like we were talking about the weather. “On the way to a county hospital. You need to come.” “Claire.” He cut me off. “Didn’t Beth pick you up?” “She never came. She didn’t come at all.” “That’s not possible. She posted on Instagram that she was on her way.” I pulled up her profile. Ten minutes ago. A selfie. Highway in the background. Caption: “Going to get my sis-in-law. Big brother, you’re welcome.” Location: a hundred miles from where we were. She hadn’t moved. She lied to Ethan. She lied to me. “You see it?” Ethan said. “She’s almost there. Just wait a little longer.” “There’s no time. Sophie’s dying. Our daughter is dying, Ethan.” “Claire.” His voice dropped. “Don’t say stuff like that. It’s Christmas. Don’t be dramatic.” “Vanessa and her daughter just got here. My mom’s happy. Don’t ruin it.” “Once Beth picks you up, take Sophie to a walk-in clinic. Kids get fevers all the time. It’s not a big deal.” “Stop being hysterical.” He hung up. I sat there holding the phone. All the blood in my body felt cold. The manager glanced back in the mirror. “That your husband?” I nodded. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, and hit the gas. “Hang on. I know a shortcut. We’re not letting this kid go.” He turned onto a mountain road. The snow was worse out there.

Sophie’s breathing was almost nothing. I pressed my fingers to her chest. A heartbeat. Barely. “Sophie. Don’t scare Mommy.” “Mommy messed up. Mommy should’ve known better.” “Mommy should never have married him.” “Mommy is so sorry she let this happen to you.” I was crying when I reached into my inside pocket and pulled out a small metal device. The size of a button. My dad gave it to me. He said: “Claire, if there’s ever a day when Ethan’s family treats you badly because Sophie’s a girl, press this.” I pressed it. No sound. But I knew the signal went out. Dad said once I pressed it, his people would be there within three hours. Three hours. Could Sophie last three hours? The county hospital. I ran through the ER doors with Sophie. My voice was gone. The nurse took one look at Sophie and called for backup. “Acute pneumonia. Heart rate dropping. We need a team now.” They pulled her out of my arms and through the doors. I stood behind the glass and watched them put a tube down her throat and hook her up to monitors. That tiny body on that big bed. She looked like she could disappear at any moment. I slid down the wall in the hallway. My phone rang. Ethan. I picked up. Said nothing. “Claire, where are you?” Impatient. “Mom wants to eat dinner.” I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. “Say something.” “Hospital.” I pushed out the word. “Sophie’s in surgery.” “What? Why are you at a hospital? Where’s Beth?” “She never showed up.” “That’s impossible. She just texted me. Said she picked you up.” I opened the family group chat. Twenty minutes ago. Beth: “Ethan, got her. On our way back now.” A photo attached. Blurry interior of a car. Passenger seat. A woman’s back. Wearing a coat just like mine. That was a photo of me. From before. She had it ready. She planned this. “She’s lying,” I said. “Ethan, you need to come to the hospital. Right now.” Silence. “Ethan.” “Claire.” A pause. “Are you actually in the hospital, or are you just pulling this because you’re upset Vanessa’s here?” I couldn’t breathe. “You think I’m making this up?”

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My husband’s housekeeper killed his mother, and he made me kneel and apologize for it. The new housekeeper was a pretty little idiot. She poured drain cleaner into Dominic’s mother, Mrs. Beatrice’s washbasin. The acid hit instantly and Beatrice’s face went first, skin and flesh, and she screamed and went down. When Dominic rushed in, Melanie threw herself into his arms sobbing. “I saw it online. The formula was supposed to brighten skin and reduce wrinkles. I was just trying to help her, sir. This is all my fault…” He pulled her closer. “That’s just her bad luck. She couldn’t handle nice things. How is that your fault?” He swept a contemptuous look my way. “Get your mother cleaned up. Can’t you see you’re frightening Melanie?” “Take your grievances outside. Nobody wants to look at your face.” Melanie pulled herself up all fragile and trembling and pressed a slip of paper into my hand. A $10 funeral expense form. “The sir already said this had nothing to do with me,” she said softly. “But she was still your mother. The Bouchard household should cover a proper burial. Please, ma’am, just take it.” I laughed and threw the form in Dominic’s face. “That’s yours to keep.” His face went cold and he roared at me. “Your mom’s a nobody. A patch of dirt is more than enough for her. Melanie’s being generous. Seraphina, don’t push it.” He was already flushed with rage and then he saw the number on the form and his face twitched. Melanie scrambled to fix it. “I grabbed the wrong form. I’m so sorry, ma’am, let me get you another one. Please don’t fire me.” She rifled through her bag but I was done waiting. “You idiot. The woman still has a pulse and you’re handing me her funeral bill.” “Get out of my way. Both of you.” I called 911 with one hand and waved over Higgins, our driver, with the other to help carry Mrs. Beatrice to the car. Before I could get the door shut, Melanie grabbed the keys and dove into the driver’s seat. “I’ll drive.” She hit the gas and the car slammed into a utility pole. Mrs. Beatrice was thrown fifteen feet and the back of her head cracked against something sharp and blood came fast. The one who caused it sat crumpled on the ground crying like a lost child. “I only wanted to help. I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’m just so stupid…” I looked at Mrs. Beatrice covered in blood and my fists went tight. “No license. No permit. Melanie, that’s not stupidity. That’s attempted murder.” “Seraphina, shut your mouth.” Dominic shoved past me without a glance at his mother and crouched next to Melanie and cupped her hand where a small scratch had formed and blew on it gently, then looked back at me. “Melanie was trying to help and you’re going after her? Get over here and apologize. Now.” I stared at him. “Dominic, your mother is lying on the ground.” He didn’t hear me. His eyes were only on Melanie. The ambulance got there in time and Higgins and I waved the paramedics over. When they saw Mrs. Beatrice they rushed the stretcher out. Dominic grabbed them and stopped them cold. “Turn around.” He swept Melanie up in his arms and laid her on the stretcher meant for his mother. “Go. Now.” I threw myself in front of the ambulance doors. “Dominic, your mother is dying. How do you not see what matters here?” He stood beside Melanie and his voice didn’t waver. “You’re the one who can’t see clearly.” “Melanie is my personal housekeeper and she’s exceptional at what she does. Your mother was a nobody. She doesn’t get to take up resources meant for people who matter.” He waved his hand and two bodyguards dragged me back. Something bitter spread through my chest. That’s what she was to him. Nothing. I watched the ambulance pull away and fought against the grip on my arms and screamed. “Dominic, that is your mother.” “She drove hours to get here. Just to see you.” He went still and the look in his eyes went hollow. Dominic lost his father when he was young and it had always been just the two of them. Three years ago when the company finally took off, the first thing he did was bring Mrs. Beatrice to the city. She never fully settled in and preferred the life she knew back home and rarely stayed with us. A few days ago when the pressure at work got to him, Dominic called her just to talk and told her he missed her cooking, and the next morning she got in the car without telling anyone wanting to surprise him. What she got instead was Melanie mocking her clothes and telling her the drain cleaner would “get rid of that farmhouse smell.” Dominic’s mouth moved but before he could speak Melanie cut in, tears already forming. “It’s all my fault. I know that. But you can’t blame Dominic for something I did.”

Whatever hesitation had been in his eyes was gone. Replaced with fury. “Seraphina, are you out of your mind?” “Your mother raised a daughter like you? She deserved what she got.” The ambulance left and dust settled behind it. I drove alone and ran every red light and got Mrs. Beatrice into surgery. Then I went to pay and found the account empty, worse than empty, a million dollars in debt with my name flagged as a defaulter. The account was linked to Dominic’s. I already knew who had done it. I went straight to the top floor and found Melanie in the VIP suite. Dominic was sitting beside her hand-feeding her soup. I kept my voice level. “Melanie. Where is my money?” She shook like she’d been caught and her voice came out small. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I thought I could grow it for you so I took the savings and put them into investments but I lost everything…” “Investments. You have a nursing degree, Melanie. Not finance.” Dominic stepped in front of her. “It’s just money. I’ll transfer it right now. Leave her alone.” He sent fifty thousand on the spot. Before I could leave, Higgins stumbled into the room, face white, voice cracking. “Ma’am. Mrs. Beatrice’s organs failed. She’s gone.” My mind went blank and my legs nearly gave out. Dominic didn’t even look up. “Good. Now stop hovering and get out. You’re upsetting Melanie.” He turned to the bodyguards. “Get rid of the body before she wakes up. I don’t want her seeing that.” They moved for the door and I blocked them. “You’re not touching her.” Mrs. Beatrice wasn’t my mother by blood but she was a good woman and she treated me like a daughter from the start. I wasn’t going to let her be destroyed and do nothing. “Illegal chemicals. No license. Melanie, you are not stupid. You are a killer.” “You are going to answer for what you did.” Melanie buried herself in Dominic’s arms and wept. “That’s not true, sir. I didn’t want to hurt anyone…” He looked at me like I was something on the bottom of his shoe. “It was her time. Stop trying to drag Melanie into this.” A snap of his fingers and the bodyguards closed in and locked me in a basement with no windows. Hours later Dominic came down and stood in the doorway and looked down at me. “Melanie flew out to arrange a proper burial. She didn’t have to do that.” “The least you can do is thank her.” I looked up and he was holding his phone out, video call running. On screen Melanie was picking her way along a muddy path outside a church and pallbearers struggled behind her with the casket. Then she tripped and took two of them down with her. The casket hit the ground and caught the slope of the churchyard hill and rolled and didn’t stop until it dropped into the drainage ditch at the bottom. I had nothing left. “Dominic. You are worse than nothing.” He didn’t even look at me, just kept calling into the screen. “Melanie! Are you okay? Don’t be scared. I’m coming right now.” He turned and walked away. I let my eyes close. I wondered, when Dominic found out whose body had been desecrated, whether he’d still feel so easy about it. After they let me out I called the attending physician. “Doctor, I need a signed statement.”

I handed the documents straight to my lawyer. I was barely out of the office when something hit the back of my skull and everything went dark. When I came to my hands were bound and I was kneeling on the floor in front of Melanie. “You were going to have her arrested? Seraphina, when did you get so vicious?” Dominic glared down at me and threw a document in my face. A divorce agreement. He wanted me to walk away with nothing. The anger that rose in me was almost choking. “You’re the one who cheated, Dominic. What right do you have?” His voice came out flat and cold. “I told you to disappear. Instead you went after Melanie.” “Everything you own in this marriage goes to her. Call it damages.” He snapped his fingers and bodyguards materialized from every corner and grabbed my hands and forced them toward the signature line. I knelt on the cold floor, knees grinding against the tile. Melanie peeked out from behind him, voice soft. “She looks so pitiful, sir. I don’t need that much money…” Dominic cut her off. “Don’t. This is what she owes you. And the dowry from her family, that’s yours too.” Melanie blinked at him all wide eyes and innocence. “Thank you for standing up for me, sir.” I was gritting my teeth when the assistant walked in and said something close to Dominic’s ear. The TV clicked on. It was the attending physician. He stood in front of the camera, composed. “Seraphina’s mother-in-law died of natural illness. Seraphina is attempting to exploit that death to extort Ms. Melanie. As a physician, I will not be party to fraud.” Each word landed like something sharp. The fight went out of me and I sat on the floor. Dominic turned the TV off. “Seraphina. I told you. You can’t win against me.” The door burst open and a mob pushed in, phones out and recording. “That’s her. Cashing in on a dead woman.” Someone shoved a camera in my face and someone else threw a cup of soda and a carton of eggs came from the back. “Disgusting. She has no shame.” “Bet her mother-in-law died just to get away from her.” I got hit and went down and someone poured a drink over my head and the crowd kept filming. Dominic watched from across the room, Melanie under his arm. “This is what you get for what you did to Melanie.” He left and at the door Melanie glanced back at me, satisfied. In half a day I had become someone the whole city wanted to bury.

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I spent five years working day and night to pay off my boyfriend’s debt. He gave his mistress a million to buy a dress. I gritted my teeth and grabbed the last box of marked-down shrimp. Next to me, a girl dripping in designer labels was picking through the imported seafood. She glanced at me, then dropped a blue lobster straight into my cart. “It’s New Year’s Eve. Treat yourself.” She smiled like it was nothing. “Everything in your cart tonight, I’m paying.” I stared at the five-figure price tag. I waved my hands and tried to refuse. She pulled out a black card without blinking. “Don’t worry about it. My man gives me way too much to spend. He actually gets mad when I don’t use it.” I forced a laugh. “He sounds… really generous.” “That’s an understatement. I can’t spend it fast enough.” She tilted her head. “You know what’s funny though? His girlfriend’s been killing herself for years. Back-breaking temp jobs, double shifts, all to pay off some debt that doesn’t even exist.” “I told him I wanted a home-cooked New Year’s Eve dinner. He ditched her right then and there to come cook for me.” I froze. My boyfriend was in debt too. Before the coincidence could sink in, my phone buzzed. A text from Caleb: “Tessa, the company scheduled me for a holiday shift. Triple pay.” “Buy yourself something nice. Be good and wait for me. I’ll be home tomorrow.”

A sharp ringing filled my ears. Nothing else. The world tilted. Everything blurred. When I didn’t reply, Caleb called. His voice was patient. Gentle. “Tessa, why aren’t you saying anything?” That sweet, doting tone. I opened my mouth. “Can you come home today? Forget the money. We don’t need it.” He paused. Then he let out a low laugh. “Missing me already? Once we pay off the debt, we’ll be together every single day.” Someone on his end told him to get back to work. He hung up in a hurry. I stared at the hundred dollars he’d just transferred. Next to me, the girl let out a dramatic sigh. “He just sent me another million. Told me to buy something sexy to wear tonight.” “But even the most expensive piece wouldn’t cost more than a hundred grand. I’ll use the rest to get you a few outfits.” Before I could say a word, Seraphina grabbed my arm. She paid for everything at the supermarket, then dragged me into a luxury boutique. I looked at the price tags. A string of zeroes. Suddenly, it all felt like a joke. After college, Caleb’s startup had failed. He’d racked up millions in debt. Then came the severe depression. I worked multiple jobs every day. All I wanted was to see a little spark come back to his eyes. Five years. I scraped and saved. I couldn’t count how many meals were just bread and tap water. And now the coat draped over my shoulders cost more than two hundred thousand dollars. The sting hit the back of my nose. I couldn’t breathe. Seraphina chattered on, oblivious. “You know what? He made his girlfriend get three abortions. All for me.” Something exploded in my head. My hand went to my stomach without thinking. I’d lost three babies too. The first time, I was racing to make a delivery on time. I gunned the scooter through a yellow light. A luxury SUV clipped me and sent me skidding across the asphalt. The second time, I needed the seventy dollars from a sign-spinning shift. I stood in a thunderstorm for two hours, holding up an ad board on the side of the highway, soaked to the bone. The third time, Caleb held me and cried. He said we couldn’t afford to raise a child. He took me to some cheap clinic and bought the pills himself. For so many nights after, he’d jolt awake from nightmares. He’d hold me and whisper he was sorry. He said, “Tessa, when I get back on my feet, I’ll give you a real home. I promise.” Seraphina didn’t notice my face going white. She kept talking. “Oh, and when that idiot girlfriend rear-ended the SUV, she was so scared she couldn’t even speak.” “Babe was sitting in the back seat the whole time, video-calling me to watch.” “And that sign-spinning job? It was supposed to pay seven hundred. He pulled strings to cut it down to seventy.” I looked at the pride on her face. I asked her, “Doesn’t it bother you that he has a girlfriend?” Seraphina stared at me like I was the crazy one. “His love, his money, his bed. All mine.” “Sweetie, other than the word ‘girlfriend,’ what does she even have?”

I don’t know how I made it home. Our apartment was barely a hundred square feet. We’d made it cozy and warm, just the two of us. Back then, Caleb swore it would always be that way. Just us. Forever. I lived inside that beautiful lie for years. Happy. So happy I forgot how hard life actually was. Maybe it was fate. I stumbled across Seraphina’s social media account. She was livestreaming. The camera was pointed at a man’s back. I’d know that silhouette anywhere. Caleb pulled off the T-shirt he’d worn so many times it was practically falling apart. He changed into a silk loungewear set. The comments flooded in: “Does a man like this actually exist? Rich, gentle, AND faithful?” “He’s cooking for her! You can tell he adores her.” “You guys don’t know, Seraphina has a sensitive stomach, so he went and learned recipes from a private chef just for her.” Every word cut into me. Five years. I hadn’t had a proper meal in five years, all to help Caleb pay off his debt. Outside the window, the roar of the New Year’s countdown swelled louder and louder. Fireworks cracked open the sky. Cheering swallowed the whole neighborhood. On screen, Caleb set down the knife and walked toward the camera. The screen went black. The sound of kissing, loud and shameless. Seraphina ended the stream. But she didn’t forget to leave her followers a parting gift: “He wanted it. He got it.” The photo underneath showed a man’s hand gripping her, knuckles sharp, possessive. The whole city was celebrating. Every window glowed warm. I scrolled through every single post on Seraphina’s account. Like I was punishing myself. In all her showing off, the details I’d missed came into focus one by one, filling in every gap. The day Caleb gave me a pair of two-dollar crystal hair clips, he’d just bought Seraphina a diamond necklace worth millions. The day he brought home a bubble tea to celebrate paying off half the debt, he’d also wired Seraphina enough to buy herself a Chanel bag. Every time I needed him. Every time I worried about him. He was in the villa he’d bought for Seraphina, tangled up with her, getting off on the thrill of cheating. Even my lucky penny, the one I’d held onto since I was a little girl, the only thing my mother left me, ended up clipped to his mistress’s purse. My hands and feet went cold. I curled up on the wooden plank bed. … Caleb came back three days later. He’d changed back into his ragged clothes. He hugged me the way he always did. Warm. Eager. My stomach flipped. I shoved him off and threw up everywhere. The smile on his face collapsed into panic. His eyes went red. A second later, tears spilled over. “Tessa, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me…” There was nothing in my stomach. By the end I was heaving up bile. He looked at me, full of concern. “Have you been skipping meals again?” “A coworker hooked me up with extra shifts. That’s why I was gone a couple days. How did you let yourself get this bad?” I listened to the lies rolling off his tongue. I almost wanted to laugh. I did laugh. But halfway through, I couldn’t even see his face anymore.

I got sick. A hundred and two degrees. In and out of consciousness, all I could see was Caleb. From the day we started dating, he’d set his profile picture to a photo of me on every platform, just so I’d feel safe. He quit smoking after ten years because I couldn’t stand the smoke. He remembered everything I liked. He even tracked my period better than I did. This was the man who would always shield me first without thinking. How could he cheat? Why would he cheat? My body burned, then froze, then burned again. I could feel Caleb moving around me, never stopping. A fresh towel on my forehead every thirty minutes. A cotton swab on my lips every fifteen. When I finally opened my eyes, he looked the same as every other time I’d been sick. Red-rimmed eyes. Aching with worry. I lifted my hand and pressed it against his cheek. For the first time, he felt so far away. “Tessa, you’re finally awake. I was so worried.” “I made you some soup. Come on, let me help you sit up.” I opened my mouth. Tears pooled in my eyes. I swallowed it down. Forced a smile. “It’s good.” He smiled when he heard that. His eyes lit up. Just like when he was eighteen. I looked at the band-aids on his fingers. My heart softened again. Five years together. It’s not something you just walk away from. He held me, rambling about how scared he’d been these past three days. For the first time, I didn’t comfort him. I just asked quietly, “How much do we still owe?” Caleb blinked. Then answered like it was nothing. “A lot.” I looked at him. “Caleb, aren’t you tired?” He tucked the blanket around me and smiled. “Tired of what? I’ve been the one resting all these years, taking my meds, not doing any real work.” “It’s you I worry about. You barely get any sleep.” There was a moment, just a flash, where I wanted to ask him the real question. Your family is worth billions. Why are you pretending to be poor? Living in a lie every single day. Doesn’t that exhaust you? But I couldn’t say it. I realized, terrified, that I didn’t have the courage to face the truth either. “Tessa, I’ve been off work for days because of you. My boss isn’t happy.” “Tomorrow I need to go back. Just stay home and rest, okay? I’ll come straight back after my shift.” He said this while his fingers were still hovering over his phone screen. I gripped the edge of the blanket. My voice came out shaking. “Stay a few more days. Please. Just a few more days with me.” He sat there, tilting his head, watching me. Then he said, “Okay.” When everything slowed down, my mind got clearer. All the things I didn’t want to think about came crashing in at once. These past years, I was out the door before sunrise and home long after dark. Caleb had his own endless overtime and night shifts. When I added it up, we’d barely spent any time together at all. Caleb wrapped his arms around me. He kissed behind my ear. Down my neck. But once a heart cracks, nothing fills it back up. All I could think about was that girl. Bright-eyed, sheltered, spoiled by him. Did he hold her like this too? Was he this tender with her? The nausea hit me like a wall. I threw up all over the floor. Caleb didn’t notice anything was wrong. He just held my hair back, full of worry. But if he worried so much about me, why was he being tender with someone else?

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My wife biased with her lover and stole my work achievements, so I showed up at the celebration party with two gifts: a divorce agreement and a lawyer’s letter. Seven years. Seven years I spent developing this software from scratch, starting back in college. And just as I’m about to launch it, I get an anonymous email. That’s when I learn my program has already hit the market—with Liam’s name listed as the lead developer. Liam. My wife’s college sweetheart. Her golden boy. I confront Claire, my wife, the CEO of the tech company we built together. I show her the launch certificate, demand an explanation. She barely glances up from her phone. “Liam needs this for his grad school application overseas. It’ll look good on his portfolio.” “Besides, it’s all company IP anyway. Does it really matter whose name is on it?” I lose it. I demand she change the credit back to my name immediately. Her response? She suspends me on the spot. Tells me to cover the night shift at the security desk. That night, Liam posts on Instagram. The photo shows a woman asleep, her back to the camera. I recognize the mole on her shoulder blade instantly. Claire. The caption reads, “Still tosses and turns in her sleep. Just like the old days.” I like the post. I comment: “Congrats, you two. Hope you’re locked in forever. Maybe start working on that baby.” Later, Claire throws Liam a launch party for “his” software. I show up with two gifts: divorce papers and a lawyer’s letter. Then I walk out and slide into the Bentley waiting for me—sent by the rival company that’s been courting me for months. When they launch my real software internationally, Claire loses her goddamn mind. — I turn off my phone after posting that comment, staring at our wedding photo on the wall. The bitterness is almost funny. I lie down on the couch and pass out from exhaustion. 2 AM. Claire’s call jolts me awake. “Ethan, are you out of your fucking mind? I fell asleep at Liam’s place discussing work specs!” “Delete that comment right now. What will people think?” She’s bold enough to sleep over at another man’s house, but she’s worried about optics? My phone buzzes. It’s a check-in reminder for tomorrow morning’s flight to Hawaii. Oh, right. We were supposed to go on that trip. The one we’d planned to celebrate the software launch—the honeymoon we never had. Well, I already paid for it. And I haven’t taken a vacation in years. Might as well go alone. Clear my head. On the drive to the airport, my phone won’t stop vibrating. At a red light, I glance at it. The company Slack is exploding. Liam posted a three-minute video—red-rimmed eyes, voice breaking: “Ethan, I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding… Claire only fell asleep at my place because we were finalizing launch details late into the night… Nothing happened, I swear…” He’s wiping away tears like a kicked puppy. Then Claire chimes in on the thread: “@Ethan, happy now? You had to make a scene in front of the whole company. Liam apologized. What more do you want?” The sycophants immediately fall in line. “Ethan really crossed a line this time. Liam’s such a good guy.” “Seriously. Claire and Liam work their asses off for this company, and some people just nitpick everything.” “People with dirty minds see dirt everywhere.” I laugh—cold and sharp—and leave the group chat. Funny how these same people used to kiss my ass when I was indispensable. Now that Liam’s the golden boy, they’re all on their knees for him. I barely exit the Slack channel when my phone rings again. It’s Sarah from the tech team. She’s the only junior engineer I personally trained. The only one who hasn’t thrown me under the bus. I hesitate, then answer. “Ethan…” Her voice is strained. “Claire wants me to tell you… you need to come back to the office immediately. Liam’s keynote speech for the launch event needs your edits.” My hands tighten on the steering wheel. “She wants me to write Liam’s speech?”

I can’t believe they have the audacity. They steal my work, and now they want me to write the speech celebrating it. “Yeah…” Sarah stammers. “Claire said you’re the only one who really understands the system’s architecture… and if you don’t come back, she’s marking you as absent without leave. She’ll freeze your building access and your bank card.” “Why can’t they write it themselves?” I ask, my voice icy. Sarah hesitates. “Claire… Claire took Liam on a business trip to meet potential partners. They’ll be gone for three days.” I slam on the brakes. The car stops smoothly at the red light. “So the company doesn’t have a single person capable of writing a technical keynote, and I’m the only option?” Sarah sighs. “Ethan, do what you think is right. I’m putting in my resignation the second I hang up. Claire said if I don’t get you back, she’s firing me. But honestly? I’m done. The people in this company are disgusting. They’ve been targeting me ever since I didn’t join the group chat pile-on against you… Thanks for everything you taught me. See you around.” Sarah hangs up. My hands are shaking on the wheel. Impressive. Really impressive. Claire. Liam. What a power couple. Clear out everyone loyal to me, and suddenly there’s no dissent left in the company. I land in Hawaii and check into a boutique resort hotel. I booked it months ago, back when I thought Claire and I would finally take that trip we never had time for during the software grind. “Excuse me, sir,” the front desk clerk says politely, scanning my ID. “When will your wife be arriving? I’ll make a note for check-in.” I freeze. My throat tightens. “It’s just me.” The clerk glances up, confused. “You booked the couple’s suite—” She catches the look on my face and stops mid-sentence. “Right. Of course, sir. Let me get you checked in right away.” I swipe my keycard and step inside. Rose petals scattered across the king-size bed. Two towel swans twisted together in an embrace at the center. The weather outside is perfect. But for some reason, I have zero desire to go out. Next door, I hear the faint click of a lock. Then the sharp staccato of heels on tile. I frown. The walls here are thinner than I thought. “This trip was worth it, wasn’t it, Claire?” a male voice says. “We avoid prying eyes at the office, and we get to… relax properly.” I freeze. That voice. I’d recognize it anywhere. So their “business trip” was just a vacation to Hawaii. To screw around.

Liam murmurs something I can’t quite make out. “Oh, stop,” Claire’s voice drifts through, lazy and indulgent. Not stern. More like… permissive. “Am I wrong?” Liam’s tone sharpens, smug and triumphant. “Seven years of his life’s work, and it’s nothing but a stepping stone for me now. You’ve been so good to me, Claire. Come here—give me a kiss.” Rustling fabric. Then Claire’s breathy moan. And then sounds I really, really don’t want to hear. Something metallic and sour surges up my throat. I grab the phone and call the front desk. They pick up instantly. “Front desk, how can I assist you?” The noise next door continues. I take a deep breath. “Hi, this is the guest in Room 1808. The noise from Room 1807 is excessive. It’s disturbing my rest. Please send someone to handle it.” The clerk apologizes profusely and promises to send staff immediately. The wait feels endless. The obscene sounds keep bleeding through the wall, intermittent but persistent. Finally, I hear footsteps in the hallway. A polite knock. “Excuse me, guests in 1807. We’ve received a noise complaint. Your room is disturbing other guests. Could you please keep it down?” The noise stops abruptly. A few seconds of dead silence. Then the door is yanked open. “A complaint? Who complained? What kind of petty bullshit is this? We’re a couple in our own room—who are we bothering?” “Ma’am, please understand. This is a reasonable request from another guest, and it’s hotel policy to ensure all guests can rest comfortably—” The staff member is doing their best to stay professional, but clearly struggling. Then someone knocks on my door. I take a deep breath and yank it open. Standing there—hair tousled, wearing a silk robe—is Claire. Her expression of righteous fury freezes the instant she sees me. “Ethan… what are you doing here?”

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On the way to our holiday trip, I broke up with Rhys in the airport departure lounge. “You’re dumping me just because she got the seat next to mine instead of you?” He laughed. “Yes.” He smirked and tapped the voice memo app on his phone. “Fine. You chose it. Don’t regret it.” We’d known each other since we were seven, and started dating at eighteen. He thought this was another one of my dramatic episodes. He was so sure I’d never actually walk away from him. What he didn’t know was that the seat assignment was just the excuse. I’d already canceled the ticket he booked for me and changed my destination. And in a few hours, we’d be flying to different cities, starting different lives. ………………………. Rhys held the phone up between us. He was indicating to me that he was recording. I kept my voice flat. “May 1st, 2026. Day 2,591 together. Liora is breaking up with Rhys.” He paused for a second, then shook his head like I was being ridiculous. “Okay, how long are we breaking up for this time? What’s our record, three days? Four?” He scrolled through his phone and tapped on another recording. “Rhys, I miss you so much. I take it back, please don’t break up with me.” My own drunk, sobbing voice cut through. A few travelers turned to stare. He grinned. “That one’s from three months ago.” His finger kept scrolling, looking for more. I shoved the phone away from my face. “I mean it this time.” The smile dropped off his face. His eyes hardened. “You’re seriously breaking up with me over a seat assignment? Babe, come on. Aren’t you better than that?” “No. I’m not.” We’d planned this holiday trip to Miami with his friends months ago. Then his intern, Talia, decided she just had to come along. To make it work, Rhys canceled the original tickets and rebooked the whole group on a different flight. Somehow, he and all his friends ended up in Rows 3 and 4. I was the only one stuck back in Row 35. The seat next to him? Saved for Talia. He’d even posted a screenshot of the seat map on his Instagram Story. [Who’s coming on a spontaneous trip with you?] Their two seat numbers, side by side, were impossible to miss. “Liora, don’t be like this.” “I already explained. I forgot to add you when I booked the first time. By the next morning, the only seats left were in the back.” “It’s a four-hour flight. You’re really gonna get jealous over four hours?” He said it like forgetting to book his girlfriend’s seat was nothing. Like I was the crazy one. I took a deep breath. “You don’t get it. This isn’t about who’s sitting next to you for four hours.” “Okay, okay. I’ll buy us first-class tickets right now, just the two of us. Happy?” I just stared at him. I was so tired. “Are you guys upgrading? Rhysie, can I come too? I’ve never flown first class before.” Talia popped up out of nowhere. She slid an iced Americano into Rhys’s hand and started sipping from her own iced latte like she belonged there. She caught the tension and tilted her head at me. “Oh, sweetie, I didn’t know what you liked. I always grab them an Americano and a latte, total habit. I totally spaced on getting you one.” I turned to leave. Talia grabbed my arm. “Liora, please don’t get the wrong idea. Rhysie and I are just friends.” “I’m just an intern, you know? Graduation’s coming up and I’m honestly so stressed out. That’s the reason he lets me tag along when you guys do stuff.” “Don’t let little things mess up what you two have, please.” “Little things?” I laughed in her face. “Asking my boyfriend to a movie alone is a little thing? Sending him pics of you in dressing room outfits is a little thing? Crashing our couples’ trip is a little thing?” “You’re not stressed. You’re just blind. You don’t see a single line you shouldn’t cross.” “You want him so bad? Take him.” Talia’s eyes welled up instantly. She bit her lip and looked down at the floor. “Liora, that’s enough!” Rhys grabbed a napkin and handed it to her. “I get that you’re pissed, but take it out on me. Why are you screaming at her?” A tear rolled down Talia’s cheek. “Rhysie, please don’t fight. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have come.” She turned and hurried toward the exit. Rhys sighed and went after her. The crowded terminal felt thick and suffocating, like I couldn’t get a full breath.

I’d packed until past midnight the night before, and now my head was killing me. I went to grab a coffee, hoping the caffeine would clear it. That’s when I heard the familiar voices coming from the seating area outside the Starbucks. Rhys’s friends were posted up there, killing time before boarding. “Where’s Liora? She not coming with you?” “She’s threatening to break up again.” Someone snorted. “Seriously? You haven’t even taken off and she’s already starting? What is it this time?” “She’s mad I didn’t save her the seat next to mine.” “That’s it?” The guy shrugged. “Honestly, only you could put up with her.” Rhys ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. “Yeah, I need a break too. I’ll deal with her once we land in Miami.” Another one of his buddies jumped in. “Bro, you spoiled her rotten. This is what you get.” “Honestly though, give me a chill girl like Talia any day. Hey Tal, what’s your type? You into guys like me?” Talia covered her face and giggled. Looked like Rhys had already smoothed things over with her. Before she could answer, Rhys kicked his friend’s chair. “Back off, dude.” Then his voice softened. “Stay away from this guy. He’s a serial cheater. If he tries to add you on Instagram, do not accept.” They started cracking up. “Damn Rhys, why so protective of Tal?” “You bring her along but won’t let any of us talk to her? What’s that about?” “Trying to keep her for yourself, huh?” Talia’s cheeks went pink. “You guys, stop. Even if I was into someone like Rhys, he’d never go for me anyway.” Every head turned to Rhys. He just smiled. He didn’t say a word. Talia gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “See? That’s a no. So please, if any of you know someone good, set me up.” Rhys finally spoke, slow and casual. “Didn’t say no.” I set my coffee cup down on the counter. They erupted in laughter. “Oh shoot.” Talia suddenly froze, counting heads on her fingers. She fumbled for her phone. “Oh my god. I screwed up the room reservations.” “I just looked at the headcount, four guys and three girls, so I only booked three rooms…” She kept scrolling. “The hotel is completely sold out now. What do I do?” Then she looked up and spotted me across the lounge. She got up and walked straight over. “Liora, I swear it was an honest mistake.” “There’s another hotel right next door but it’s like a thousand bucks more a night. I mean, you guys aren’t exactly hurting for money, right? Maybe you could just book it?” I stared at her, expressionless. “You really have it out for me, don’t you? Out of seven people, somehow I’m the one who has to pay extra?” “And you screwed up the booking. Why am I the one fixing it?” She made a pained face. “Liora, I’m just an intern, okay? I’m not even out of school yet, my paychecks are basically nothing…” I cut her off. “You’re the one who insisted on handling the bookings. We already Venmo’d you our share. If you couldn’t handle it, you shouldn’t have volunteered.” Talia dropped her head and started quietly crying. “Enough.” Rhys came up behind her. He said it like it was no big deal. “It’s not the end of the world. We just book another room.” “Liora, you’re an adult. You should be able to roll with stuff like this.” I laughed coldly. “Roll with your intern freezing me out, you mean?” Talia looked at Rhys with watery eyes. “I really didn’t mean to.” Rhys lowered his voice. “Liora, Talia’s a sweet girl. She doesn’t think like that. You’re being unfair to her.” “I’ll book us an ocean view suite. Drop it. Stop making a scene.” “I’m the one making a scene?” I let out a sharp laugh. My phone buzzed. I didn’t have the energy to keep arguing. I picked up the call and walked away from them.

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My bestie vanished the moment we landed in this godforsaken werewolf kingdom. I searched for years. No trace of her. Seven years later, I had become Luna Queen Artoria. Brutal. Feared. The kind of name mothers whispered to make their pups behave. Until a kid pounded on the locked palace gates, screaming that he was my pup. Ridiculous. I had never been pregnant. How the hell could he be mine? Just when I was ready to scold him, the kid lifted his little face and looked at me. That face — the mini version of my bestie. The words died in my throat. The kid tugged at my cloak, whispering cautiously: “My mother is Meryl. She said you’d believe me when you saw my face. She always says you share the same family origin from far, far away.” My eyes swelled with tears. I gritted my teeth. “Meryl, you good girl… How dare you hide when you knew exactly where I am?” “She’s dying… too sick to come herself.” No. That was impossible. Before we came here, Meryl had just won Gatorade State Player of the Year. She was way too healthy to die. “How the hell could it be…” “Father listened to his mistress. He didn’t call the Leech Priest for her. She’s just… lying there. She told me to find you. And… from now on… you’re my mom.” Fire ignited inside me. Back in our world, the law would have crushed that man. But here? I was the law. I was the Luna Queen who had fought her way through the bloody game of the throne. “Kid… let’s go bring Meryl back.” This time, it was the Queen’s kill to avenge.

The Silvermane Velvet tributed from Serravia was laid before me — moon-white or silver-blue. Too plain. Not my style. “Wait. Put them in the old place,” I said, walking into the side chamber. “Yes, Your Highness.” Meryl. You always loved these quiet colors. My hand brushed over the velvet, then drifted to the Sucre d’Orge, the diamond jewels, the piles of gold. I had gathered everything for her. A flashback: Meryl in modern clothes, ponytail bouncing. “I’ll be a super athlete and you’ll be a super scholar! When one of us gets filthy rich, she’ll buy Fifth Avenue for the other!” But seven years ago, everything had changed. Meryl and I fell into this werewolf world. She vanished. I landed in the royal palace — a stranger who crossed the Crown Prince. “Forty lashes!” Then Gwyn appeared. Moon-white robes, gentle eyes. He bent down and pulled me to my feet. “I’ll protect you.” Later, he knelt before the Alpha King. “Father, I wish to marry Artoria.” Those years were hard. The Crown Prince schemed against us. Gwyn was forced into the succession game for the Alpha’s throne. I had no family background here, but I had twenty-first-century knowledge. I learned to read people, to win powerful ladies and their mates to my side. We worked as one. He rose to become the Alpha King. And I became Luna Queen Artoria. Brutal. Feared. But through all of it — the battles, the blood, the throne — I never stopped searching for Meryl. Now I had gathered everything for her. But I still couldn’t find her trace. “Luna Queen, this child refuses to leave the palace gates. He claims to be your pup. How shall we punish him?” Ridiculous. I had never had a child. First, I was too busy helping Gwyn win the throne. And after that… we tried, but never succeeded. I pushed the thought aside and turned to the boy. “Who put you up to this? Lying at such a young age?” The boy’s face flushed red. “I’m not lying! I’m not lying!” He lifted his face and looked straight at me. I froze. That face — it was Meryl’s. “My mother is Meryl. She told me to find you.” My heart pounded. So this was Meryl’s child. I touched his soft cheek. “Where is she? Why did she send you instead of coming herself?” His lips trembled. His eyes turned red. “Mom is home in Serravia. Father listened to his mistress. He didn’t call the Leech Priest for her. She’s just… lying there. She told me to find you. And… from now on… you’re my mom.” “Pack my things. Prepare the carriage. We set off for Meryl now.” “His Majesty King Gwyn arrives!” “Artie, what are these about?” “Meryl is in the Serravia pack. I need to go bring her back.” Gwyn knew well where I came from, and he knew exactly what Meryl meant to me. After a frozen moment, he started stuffing coins and food into my packages. “Take coins — for emergencies. And your favorite marzipan. Take care of yourself. Write to me.” He followed me all the way to the palace gate. I took Corin’s hand and stepped over the threshold. Behind me, his voice cut through the cold: “Artie! My queen — be safe. And don’t keep me alone for long.” I waved. “I will.” I lifted Corin into the carriage. The horses charged forward, out of the palace gates. My gaze turned from warm to ice-cold. Meryl, I am coming for you. And those who hurt you… this time, it’s my kill.

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“When she goes into labor, she most likely won’t survive.” I stood outside the room, listening to the nurses discuss my case. I had two hearts inside my body. One was my baby. The other was a cloned heart that growing inside me for another woman. And my husband had approved this himself. ********** Nine months pregnant. My last ultrasound before delivery. “Both heartbeats sound are strong and healthy.” The doctor said. I was confused because every single prenatal checkup showed a single fetus. Outside the exam room, I grabbed my husband Alexander’s hand. “The doctor said there were two heartbeats. How could it be? The previous checkups showed it was one.” He paused for a split second, then laughed and patted my shoulder. “That’s impossible. You misheard. He meant your heartbeat and the baby’s are both healthy.” He smiled. “Don’t overthink it. Once the baby’s here, I’ll take you to see the Northern Lights. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?” I believed him. Just a mix-up. Until that night, when I got up to use the bathroom and passed the nurses’ station. Low voices drifted out. “Mrs. Sinclair’s organs are starting to fail. Carrying the baby and incubating the cloned heart at the same time—her body can’t handle both. ” “When she goes into labor, she most likely won’t survive.” “What about the cloned heart?” “It’s perfect. Mr. Sinclair’s investment in chimera organ technology paid off. His childhood sweetheart’s heart failure finally has a cure.” A nurse gasped. “So Mr. Sinclair knows the mother will probably die?” “Of course. He approved this protocol himself.” Ice flooded my veins. I didn’t storm in to confront them. I clamped my hand over my mouth and shuffled back to my room, step by step. Alexander was still asleep. Moonlight fell across his handsome face. That face had stayed by my side, eyes red from sleepless nights, when my parents died. That face had wept when I was so dehydrated from morning sickness I needed an IV. He’d said, “Natalie, you’re the only family I have in this world. I’d give my life to take care of you.” I’d believed his words for eight years. The next morning, Alexander brought me a glass of warm milk and a handful of colorful pills, same as always. “Natalie, sweetheart. Take your prenatal vitamins.” His eyes were gentle. He kissed my forehead. I looked at those pills. They weren’t prenatal vitamins. They were something to keep my body from rejecting the heart growing inside me. For the woman he actually loved. I reached out and took them. I looked him in the eye and tested him. “Alexander, I’ve been having chest pains lately. The doctor said I might have a difficult labor. If something happens—” He pressed his hand over my mouth and pulled me into his arms, his voice shaking. “Don’t say that.” “I hired the best medical team. They’ve assessed everything. The risk is less than one percent.” “You and the baby are going to be fine. Just take your medicine. After the birth, we’ll be a family of three. We’ll never be apart again.” He believed I wouldn’t die. So to save that woman, he’d put me on a one-percent gamble without a second thought. I lowered my eyes, swallowing the nausea rising in my throat. “Okay. I’ll take them.” I swallowed the pills in front of him. He smiled, satisfied, and tucked the blanket around me. “I need to run to the office. I’ll be back later to stay with you.” The door clicked shut. I rushed to the bathroom and shoved my fingers down my throat, purging every last pill. I stared at the bloody mess in the sink and pulled out my phone. I need to find a underground clinic.

Three days after I started secretly spitting out the pills, my body began to revolt. First came a low fever that wouldn’t break. Then my joints ached like someone was hammering them with a mallet. At its worst, I couldn’t even grip a glass of water. But I never let Alexander see any of it. He came to the hospital every day, bringing me chestnut cake from that bakery across town I loved. “Natalie, did the baby kick today?” He pressed his hand to my belly, feeling for movement. His palm rested right over the place where the extra heart was growing. I watched the smile crinkle at the corners of his eyes. It felt like a knife carving into my chest. “Alexander.” My voice came out soft as a breath. “If something goes wrong during the delivery, will you take care of our baby?” His hand froze mid-slice on the apple. The knife slipped and cut his finger. Blood welled up. “Natalie, what’s wrong? Why do you keep saying things like that?” He grabbed a tissue, pressed it carelessly to the wound, then came over and took my hand. His voice softened. “I told you, as long as I’m here, nothing will happen to you. I already booked the postnatal care center.” “Stop worrying. When this is all over, I’ll take you traveling. You’ve always wanted to see the Northern Lights in Iceland, right?” What a cheap promise. I lowered my gaze to hide the storm inside me. He was so greedy. He wanted to use my body to save his precious first love, and he still wanted me safe and sound, bearing his children, playing the dutiful wife. Did he really think he was playing God, deciding who lives and who dies? Just then, his phone rang. A special ringtone. One I’d never heard for anyone else. Alexander glanced at the screen. His expression changed instantly. “Okay. I’ll be right there.” He hung up and grabbed his coat. “Natalie, something urgent came up at work. I need to handle it. Get some rest.” He didn’t even wait for my answer before he was out the door. I didn’t ask where he was going. I just walked to the window and looked down. His car didn’t leave the hospital grounds. It drove toward the VIP building at the back—the one with security so tight even senior doctors needed special clearance. I changed into regular clothes, put on a mask, and slipped past the nurses. I followed him. Sixth floor of the VIP wing. The door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar. A weak female voice drifted out. “Alex, don’t worry about me…” “I won’t live much longer anyway. If saving me hurts Natalie, I’ll never forgive myself.” Alexander’s voice came next. Nothing but tenderness. “Lily, don’t talk like that. You’re not going to die.” “The medical team is ready. The cloned heart is perfect.” “Just five more days, and you’ll be able to live like a normal person.” “But Natalie, she—” “She’ll be fine.” Alexander cut her off. His voice was certain. “I’m using the best medication. The risk is minimal. And even if, worst case scenario—” He paused. His voice dropped. “I owe you this. If you hadn’t saved me back then, you wouldn’t have ended up with heart failure.” “Lily, as long as you survive. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to Natalie.” I stood outside that door, biting down on my lip until I tasted blood. Make it up to me? That’s pure bullshit. All this time, I thought he loved me. Clearly, Lily mattered more to him than me or our child ever would.

After I got back to my room, I started coughing up blood. The rejection was hitting full force. My body was fighting the heart that didn’t belong to me. Two forces tearing each other apart inside. Doctors and nurses rushed in. Chaos everywhere. By the time Alexander got back, I was already on oxygen. He thought I was asleep. He grabbed the doctor by the collar. “How did this happen? How the hell were you taking care of her?” For a split second, he looked terrified of losing me. The doctor stammered out an answer. “Mr. Sinclair, your wife’s immune system suddenly started attacking the cloned embryo. ” “Her liver and lungs are failing. We may need to terminate the incubation—” “No.” Alexander let go of him. Didn’t hesitate for a second. “The heart needs three more days to mature. If we take it out now, it won’t function properly. Lily won’t be able to use it.” Dead silence. I lay there with the oxygen mask on, watching him through the haze. The man who swore he loved me. When it came down to life or death, he didn’t waver for even half a second. The doctor tried again. “Mr. Sinclair, your wife really can’t take much more—” Alexander cut him off. “Keep the incubation going. Save the heart.” “Give her the strongest immunosuppressant injections. The best drugs. Whatever it costs, you keep her alive for three more days.” I closed my eyes and let the tears slide down. He’d just snuffed out the last flicker of hope I had left. The moment the needle pierced my skin, I made my decision. For the next two days, Alexander didn’t leave my side. He canceled all his work. Dark circles bruised his eyes. He wiped my face, held water to my lips, sat up holding my hand through the night. “Natalie, hang in there. It’s almost over.” “When this is done, you can hit me, curse me, whatever you want. Just please, hold on.” I looked at how worn down he was and felt nothing but pity. He didn’t even know I’d heard everything. He was still dreaming that he’d pull me back from the edge of death and we’d go on being the happy couple. “Alexander.” I struggled to pull off the oxygen mask. My voice was barely a whisper. “I want some of that honey walnut shrimp from the place downtown. Fresh out of the kitchen.”

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