Category: English

It’s 11 PM, and my wife still hasn’t come home. I call her, and she mumbles something about a company party, saying she can’t get away. I don’t call her out on it. I silently watch as my wife of 5 years, whom I’ve known for 9, enters a bar arm-in-arm with another man. “I think it’ll be a few more hours. Don’t wait up for me, go to bed,” she says hurriedly before hanging up. Tonight marks the 11th time this month she’s come home late. It’s also the last chance I’m giving her. At 4 AM, Claire finally returns. For the first time, she rushes straight to the bathroom to shower. The clothes she casually tossed on the couch are missing the stockings she wore when she left. I let out a bitter laugh, grab her clothes, and throw them in the washing machine before preparing some hangover pills for her. “Jack, you’re the best!” Claire suddenly hugs me from behind. Her voice is still sweet and melodious: “You’re up so late and even prepared hangover pills for me. You’re going to spoil me!” I’m not as enthusiastic as I used to be and coldly push her away. “Just take the pills.” “Your stomach isn’t good. If you drink without taking hangover pills, you won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Claire smiles and, like an obedient kitten, leans on the table to drink some water. She rambles on, “Work’s been so busy lately. If it’s not overtime, it’s company events. I probably won’t even get a break this weekend. It’s exhausting…” I remember she said the same thing last week. Worried about her irregular meals, I went to bring her lunch, only to discover she had never worked overtime. Her empty desk had only a photo frame with a picture of her and Zack. Her colleague said she hadn’t changed it in years. “If you’re that tired, just be honest about it.” “Huh? Honest about what?” Claire’s watery eyes suddenly widen. “About you and Zack. Isn’t it exhausting to lie every day? Drinking until this late and still having to come up with excuses for me seems unnecessary.” I point to the pills, telling Claire to remember where they’re kept so she can find them herself next time she drinks. “Jack, stop it!” “What are you doing? Are you leaving me?” Claire grabs my arm and hugs it, her eyes turning red. Years of marriage make me hold back from lashing out: “I can’t keep a woman whose heart I couldn’t warm in 9 years.” “What nonsense are you talking about? I’m not that kind of woman!” Claire lets go of my hand and glares at me angrily: “Haven’t I explained it to you? Zack and I are just friends. He just came back from abroad and doesn’t have a place to stay or a job yet, so I’ve only met him a few times to help him out.” “Can’t you act like a man? Stop being so jealous for no reason. It’s really unattractive!” She frowns, looking disgusted. The last time I caught her lying about meeting Zack, she gave a similar excuse. But if they’re just friends, why does she keep lying over and over? Why does she come home later and later? I let out a bitter laugh, unable to hold back anymore. “Then let’s get divorced. Go find your ‘attractive’ Zack!” Her childhood sweetheart, whom she hasn’t seen in years, is nothing but a deadbeat who lives off his parents and spends his days and nights in bars and clubs. Yet somehow, she’s still drawn to him. “Divorce?” “Jack, stop acting like a jealous woman! Just because I came home a bit late, you’re talking about divorce? This will only make me hate you!” Claire grabs the water glass and smashes it on the ground. “I’m your wife, not your pet. You don’t get to control who I hang out with!” “Instead of watching me like a hawk every day, why don’t you focus on improving yourself?” After shouting, Claire storms into the guest room and locks the door. The heart I thought couldn’t hurt anymore suddenly aches again. She has a weak stomach, so I’ve cooked for her every day for 9 years. She has a princess complex, so I never forget to give her gifts on every holiday. Whatever she wants, I work myself to the bone to get it for her. But even so, I can’t replace her childhood sweetheart’s photo on her desk. “Sigh… Let it be.” I take a deep breath and start packing my bags. “Jack, it’s been so long. Why haven’t you come to comfort me yet?” “In the past, no matter how angry I got, you’d never leave me alone for more than 10 minutes.” “Do you really not want me anymore?” Looking at the messages Claire sent, I can imagine her tear-stained, pitiful face. I think back to last month when she lied about working overtime on a weekend. I saw her cuddling with Zack in a 24-hour bar, intimately embracing. At that moment, I seemed to go crazy and rushed over, grabbing Zack’s collar and demanding to know who he was. Claire panicked and pushed me away, firmly shielding Zack. “He’s my good friend! If there’s anything to discuss, let’s do it at home. Don’t make a scene and embarrass Zack here!” Her determination to protect Zack was just like how I used to protect her. Afterwards, she left with Zack, abandoning me, her husband, on the spot, like a joke watching his love walk away hand in hand with another man. That time, I first thought about divorce. But as soon as I brought it up, Claire locked herself in the guest room, crying and wailing. She said I was the one she loved most, and she only hid her meeting with an old friend because she didn’t want me to be angry. She said she had some drinks and her stomach hurt badly. After 9 years of love, my heart instantly crumbled at her tears. So I believed her one last time. But… There won’t be a second time. “Jack, you know I’m not asleep. Why aren’t you coming to comfort me?” “I really haven’t done anything to betray you with Zack. I won’t hide it from you when I meet him in the future, so you won’t be suspicious anymore.” “My stomach hurts again. Can you bring me another hangover pill?” When Claire came to me with teary eyes, I was writing her a note. It had recipes for her favorite foods. The dates of her menstrual cycle. The location of her stomach medicine and the dosage for each time… She never paid attention to these trivial life details, used to being pampered and cared for by me. “Didn’t I already tell you where the medicine is?” I handed her the note I’d written: “From now on… you’ll have to learn to take care of yourself.” Claire froze, not reaching out to take the note. I simply placed it on the table, stood up, and grabbed my suitcase to leave. Only then did she react, gently pulling at me, her red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears: “You even packed your bags? Do you really not want me anymore? Are you really divorcing me?” Her tears fell. In the past, when she cried like this, I would inevitably soften. But this time, I just calmly said: “Yes, Claire. I gave you chances. But now, I’ve had enough.” With that, I pushed her hand away without a hint of lingering attachment. “Enough, Jack! How many times do I have to tell you? Zack is my best friend. I haven’t betrayed you or done anything inappropriate!” Claire suddenly shouted out of control: “Yes, I’ve been closer to him, and we did have a relationship in the past, but that’s all in the past.” “If I really couldn’t let him go, why wouldn’t I just divorce you and be with Zack?” As she spoke, she angrily pushed me. The broken glass shards from earlier hadn’t been cleaned up, and I stepped on them, unable to react in time. They pierced through my shoe and deeply into the sole of my foot. Blood slowly seeped out, like a mirror reflecting my tall but thin figure. For these 9 years, I’ve treated Claire as the most important thing in my life, working myself to the bone to give her a better life, and taking on all the housework after getting off work. Without realizing it, my back had become slightly hunched from exhaustion. “I guess it’s because you’re used to being taken care of by me, treating me like a housekeeper…” Other than that, I couldn’t think of a second reason. “No, Jack, that’s not it.” “I’m with you because I love you. I can’t leave you…” Claire’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke, crouching down to examine the wound on the sole of my foot. There seemed to be a hint of concern in her eyes. “Jack, I’ll go get the first aid kit and bandage it for you.” Claire stood up and ran to the living room, but just as she opened the TV cabinet, her phone rang. She immediately forgot about my injury and ran to the bathroom to answer. The voice on the other end was loud, and I could tell it was a drunk Zack. “Do you have any money left, Claire? I couldn’t sleep because I missed you so much, so I went to the bar for a few drinks. But I accidentally drank too much and don’t have enough money…” As soon as Zack finished speaking, Claire rushed out of the bathroom, her eyes full of urgency as she ran to the entrance to change her shoes. Opening the door, she remembered me and gave me a casual glance. “Jack, can you bandage it yourself? I have an urgent matter to attend to, something very important.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Go ahead, remember to drink some warm milk when you come back. You’ve been drinking and haven’t slept all night, your stomach will—” She didn’t even have the patience to listen to me finish and hurried off to Zack. It was clear who was more important in her heart. The blood on the sole of my foot spread again, forming the shape of a blood flower. As if mourning our completely dead marriage. Goodbye, Claire. I pushed my suitcase, waved goodbye to the home we’d lived in for 5 years, and left without any regrets.

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### She only begged me to stay after I had grown completely numb to her tears. But by then, there was no going back. I sat at the dining table, staring at the untouched meal in front of me. The food was growing colder with every passing minute, much like my heart. Today was my birthday. But it was also Sarah’s childhood friend Daniel’s birthday. I opened Daniel’s Instagram, already knowing what I’d find. Sure enough, there was a brand-new post on his feed: “Grateful for another birthday spent with you. Here’s to celebrating many more together!” The photo was simple: two hands forming a heart over a birthday cake. One of them was Sarah’s. She was wearing the necklace I had given her. I stared at the screen for a moment, then hit the “like” button. Setting my phone down, I swept all the dishes off the table—her favorite foods—and dumped them into the trash. Then I grabbed my keys and headed to a restaurant. This time, I ordered my own favorite meal to celebrate my birthday. From now on, I’ll make sure to enjoy every birthday for myself.

Halfway through dinner, my phone rang. It was Sarah, her voice tinged with urgency. “Matt, you saw Daniel’s Instagram post, didn’t you?” “I saw it.” “I’m spending his birthday with him, but I’ll come back after. Next year, I’ll celebrate with you instead, okay? Don’t get upset over this, alright? Be the bigger person.” In the past, I would’ve lost it—yelling, arguing, making a scene. But now, I didn’t have the energy for it anymore. “Okay,” I said simply. The next morning, around 7:00 AM, I was jolted awake by the sound of my phone ringing. It rang three times before stopping. I glanced at the screen—Sarah. She had this habit of calling me when she didn’t feel like using her key. Three rings, then she’d hang up, knowing I’d rush to the door no matter what I was doing. But not today. I tossed the phone aside, pulled the blanket over my head, and went back to sleep. The spare key was under the shoe rack by the door. She knew that. Last night, I’d been up until 3:00 AM packing. My head was still pounding. The phone rang a few more times, but I couldn’t even muster the energy to look at it. I don’t know how much time passed before I heard the sound of the door opening, followed by a loud thud as it slammed against the wall. Sarah stormed into the bedroom, shoving the door open with enough force to rattle the hinges. “Matt!” she snapped. “Why didn’t you open the door for me? I called you so many times! You know I hate using the key!” I opened my eyes, looked at her blankly, and said, “I was too tired. Didn’t hear it.” Sarah’s mouth opened as if to argue, but she finally just huffed and said, “I’m starving. Get up and make me some oatmeal. I didn’t sleep at all last night, so I need to eat and catch up on sleep.” In the past, I would’ve jumped out of bed and hurried to the kitchen, eager to please her. But now, I just said, “I’m tired too. Go grab something from the café downstairs.” Her face darkened with frustration, but she held it in. “Are you still mad about me not being with you on your birthday yesterday?” “No,” I replied calmly. “You’re overthinking it.” She didn’t believe me and continued, as if trying to justify herself. “Daniel is like a brother to me. His parents passed away when he was young—if I don’t celebrate his birthday with him, who will? Don’t be so petty. You’re better than this.” “You’re right,” I said. “It’s good that you were there for him. I’m not upset.” I got out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. Sarah grabbed my hand, reluctantly pulling something out of her pocket. “Here. Stop being moody. This is your birthday gift. I didn’t forget.” She handed me a cheap red string bracelet with a small metal charm dangling from it. “You’re in your zodiac year,” she said. “I thought this would bring you good luck.” I stared at the bracelet, the flimsy charm swaying as she held it out. It looked so thoughtless, especially compared to the expensive watch Daniel had posted on Instagram yesterday—the one she’d given him. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly to myself. For months, I’d noticed Sarah cutting back on her spending. I’d convinced myself she was saving up for something special for my birthday. Turns out, I was just fooling myself. I glanced at my wrist, where I was already wearing the watch my mom had sent me last week. “Thanks,” I said. “But I already have a watch. I don’t think I’ll wear this. You keep it.” Sarah’s face twisted with anger. “You say you’re not mad, but now you’re being picky? You used to love everything I gave you, no matter how small. Why are you acting like this now?” She wasn’t wrong. Her gifts had always been cheap—trinkets that cost a few bucks, or sometimes nothing at all when she forgot. But I never minded. Every year, though, I went out of my way to make her birthday special. Just last week, I’d given her a gold necklace. Now, I was just too tired. Too drained to argue anymore. I took the bracelet and shoved it into my pocket. “Thanks,” I said flatly. I got dressed and headed for the door. “Where are you going?” Sarah asked, her voice sharp with suspicion. “To play basketball with some friends,” I replied. Since we’d started dating, every spare moment of my life had been hers. I gave up weekends, hobbies, and time with friends to entertain her, shop with her, and take care of her. Not anymore. From now on, I’m living for myself.

After an intense basketball game with my friends, we sat on the sidelines, drinking water and catching our breath. One of them teased, half-jokingly, “Man, we thought you’d forgotten about us ever since you got a girlfriend. We were about to stop inviting you altogether.” I laughed and quickly apologized. “My bad, guys. I promise it won’t happen again. Call me anytime—you’ve got my word.” “That’s more like it! Let’s go hit up the gaming café and play a few rounds.” When I was with Sarah, I could never fully fit into her circle of friends. And because of her, I’d slowly started drifting away from my own. Everything revolved around her. She was the center of my world, and I willingly let it happen. Looking back now, I can’t believe how foolish I was. By the time I got home, it was almost midnight. I opened the bedroom door and found Sarah sitting on the bed, arms crossed, her face clouded with irritation. “Matt, why are you just getting home? I had to order takeout for both lunch and dinner—it was disgusting!” I grabbed some clothes from the closet and shrugged. “I ate out at a restaurant today too. The food was pretty good—not bad at all, actually.” Sarah’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You used to say we should never eat takeout because it’s unhealthy. You promised me you’d cook every day so I wouldn’t have to.” “That was my mistake,” I replied calmly. “Living in this world, if you can’t cook, you’ve got to learn to live with takeout.” An angry spark lit up in her eyes. “You’re still mad, aren’t you? Don’t even try to deny it. You didn’t call or text me all day, and you didn’t come home to cook for me. How is that not being mad?” “I’m not mad,” I said evenly. “I was just out with my friends. My phone died, that’s all.” Sarah threw the blanket off, jumped out of bed, and grabbed my arm as I turned to leave. Her voice rose sharply. “Can you stop being so childish? How many times do I have to tell you—Daniel and I are just like brother and sister! Why are you still making a big deal out of this? I’m running out of patience, Matt!” I pulled my arm free. “I’m not making a big deal out of anything. I’m just tired. I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.” With that, I grabbed my clothes and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Sarah shouted after me, but I didn’t bother responding. For the first time in years, I slept peacefully that night. Sarah has terrible sleeping habits; she kicks the blanket off multiple times a night. When we shared a bed, I’d always wake up to cover her back up, never managing to get a full night’s sleep myself. The next morning, Sarah was sitting in the living room with her arms crossed, her face dark and stormy. I knew she was waiting for me to apologize, to coax her out of her mood. In the past, whenever she was upset, I would swallow my pride, beg for her forgiveness, and do whatever it took to make her happy—even if I wasn’t wrong. Then she’d lay out a list of demands, and only once I’d fulfilled every single one would she reluctantly forgive me. That routine had gone on for years. But this time, I was done. I walked past her without a word, got ready for the day, and left the apartment. I had important things to take care of.

At work, I handed in my resignation letter. My manager was shocked and tried to convince me to stay, but I was firm. When I’d taken this job, it was because I wanted to be near Sarah, to take care of her. But that wasn’t necessary anymore. The night before, I’d called my parents over video chat and told them I was planning to move back home. I saw the tears of joy in my mom’s eyes. My dad hasn’t been in good health lately, and running the family’s small convenience store on his own has been taking a toll on him. “Home” isn’t some far-off rural place. It’s a small coastal city—quiet and comfortable. Sarah, on the other hand, is from the South. She loves her spicy food and always refused to move with me, saying she couldn’t handle the change in cuisine. So I’d left my family behind and moved here for her, building my life around hers. Now, that life was crumbling, and I was going back to the one place that had always been constant: home. That evening, I went out to dinner with my friends and told them about my plans. They all agreed I was making the right choice. “Your parents’ health comes first,” one of them said. After a few rounds of drinks, someone finally asked the question I’d been avoiding. “What about Sarah? Is she coming with you?” I was quiet for a moment before answering with a bitter smile. “No. We’ll probably break up.” For years, I’d believed we could build a home together here, and that one day I’d bring my parents to live with us. But now I knew better. That dream was gone. The home I wanted wasn’t here. It was the one with my parents, the one where love wasn’t conditional. When I got back to the apartment, Sarah was sitting on the couch in a white dress, her hair perfectly styled, her makeup flawless. She was holding her phone, smiling brightly as she FaceTimed Daniel. “Sarah, you’re stunning,” I heard him say. “Even in something as simple as a white dress, you look like an angel.” Sarah giggled, covering her face with her hand. “Really? You’re always so sweet with your compliments.” I stood silently in the doorway, watching. That dress wasn’t “simple.” It was the one I’d spent an entire month’s paycheck on, a gift I’d given her. When Sarah turned and saw me standing there, her smile vanished. She turned back to the phone. “I have to go now, Daniel. I’ll see you soon. Don’t forget to eat something before I get there.” She ended the call, gave me a look of pure disdain, then walked past me to put on her shoes. Without a word, she left the apartment. This was her usual pattern—silent treatment, passive-aggressive behavior, all over Daniel. In the past, I would’ve panicked, desperate to win her back. This time, I didn’t feel anything. I quietly unpacked the groceries I’d brought home and made myself a late-night snack. I hadn’t eaten much at dinner, and I was starving. Over the next few days, I focused on wrapping up work and packing my things. Little by little, my presence in the apartment grew smaller, but Sarah didn’t seem to notice.

Today, Sarah went out again to meet up with Daniel. I sat at the dining table, scrolling through my phone as I ate. Daniel had just posted on Instagram: “Every time I feel lonely, you’re always there for me. I’m so lucky. Grateful!” The photo showed Sarah and Daniel, their heads leaning together, both smiling and making peace signs at the camera. Sarah’s friends flooded the comments with likes and gushing messages, praising the “bond” they shared. They’d always said she and Daniel were meant to be together. Childhood friends, practically soulmates—they made it sound like I was the outsider who’d come in and ruined their perfect story. Looking at that post, I realized they weren’t wrong. They did look more like a couple than we ever did. In the past, I used to keep my feelings bottled up for as long as I could before gently reminding Sarah to set some boundaries with Daniel, to avoid giving people the wrong impression. Her friends always mocked me for it, calling me controlling and possessive, accusing me of stifling Sarah and cutting her off from her friends. Sarah never defended me. Instead, she joined in, scolding me for being overbearing and telling me to give her more space. On Daniel’s post, Sarah had left a comment: “You’re always there for me, too!” I closed the app without a second thought, stood up, and started clearing the table. Outside, thunder rumbled. Rain was coming. I went to the balcony to bring in the laundry, and just as I finished, heavy raindrops began pounding against the windows. In the past, a rainy night like this would’ve had me scrambling to call Sarah, asking where she was so I could take an umbrella and pick her up. I couldn’t bear the thought of her getting even a little wet. She and her friends used to laugh at me for it, calling me a “hovering mom,” saying I worried too much and ruined the fun of their nights out. This time, I just took a shower, climbed into bed, and scrolled through some videos until I drifted off. The sound of Sarah slamming my bedroom door woke me up. She stormed in, furious. “Matt, it’s pouring outside, and your girlfriend still isn’t home. Don’t you care at all? If it were my friends’ boyfriends, they’d be calling nonstop, asking where they were, and showing up with umbrellas. But you? Nothing!”

I blinked, surprised by the anger in her voice. I couldn’t understand why she was so upset. I thought back to a similar night, years ago, when it was raining and Sarah was out with Daniel. I’d called her several times, asking where she was and when she’d be home. I even offered to pick her up. She’d snapped at me, saying I was being ridiculous. “Daniel’s here,” she’d said. “He’ll drop me off. Stop worrying so much.” She accused me of being jealous, claiming I just couldn’t stand the idea of her spending time with Daniel. She said my need for control was suffocating her. Now that I was giving her the freedom she’d asked for, she was mad at me for not calling. I couldn’t figure out what she wanted from me anymore. Calmly, I replied, “You’re with Daniel. I don’t have anything to worry about. Stay out as long as you want—he’ll make sure you get home safely.” Sarah’s eyes widened, stunned. Maybe she was surprised by how casually I mentioned Daniel’s name, or by how unconcerned I seemed about them spending so much time together. Her expression shifted, and she quickly offered an explanation. “Today’s the anniversary of Daniel’s mom’s passing,” she said. “He’s been really upset, and as his friend, I couldn’t just leave him alone. You understand, right? Please don’t take it the wrong way.” I nodded, my voice steady. “I understand. It’s a hard day for him. You’re right to stay with him.” My calm response seemed to throw her off. She studied my face, searching for any sign of anger or jealousy, but found none. Her tone softened as she said, “Matt, I bought a new set of pajamas today—black lace. Do you want to see how they look? You can tell me if they’re a good fit.” I glanced at her, caught off guard. This was unusual. Sarah never apologized or extended an olive branch unless I begged her to. She always held the upper hand, making me grovel before she’d agree to forgive me. Now, she was reaching out first, trying to make peace. But I pretended not to notice the meaning behind her words. “There’s no need,” I said flatly. “If you like them, that’s all that matters. Go back to your room and get some sleep.”

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My parents got divorced. The court granted my custody to my mom, but I stayed with my dad for the sake of my education. The big house we’re living in now was transferred to my name after my parents reached an agreement. After my dad remarried, my stepmom moved in with her daughter. The little brat started causing trouble and even asked my dad to arrange for her to be in the same class as me, under the pretext of taking care of her. After a fight with my stepmom and her daughter, I changed the password on the smart lock, set the central air conditioning to 90 degrees Fahrenheit, and then went to my grandparents’ house in the countryside with all the remote controls for the household appliances. With the summer heat in River City reaching nearly 104 degrees Fahrenheit, they were stuck with the heating on. When they called me, I was sitting in my grandpa’s recliner, munching on ice-cold watermelon. After my dad remarried, my stepmom Lily moved in with her daughter Zoe. We didn’t get along at all. I had always been the apple of my family’s eye, and everything at home revolved around me. But ever since Zoe came to our house, she wanted a share of everything I had, even trying to claim my things as her own. I heard that Zoe’s biological father was a gambling addict who sold everything valuable in their house. He even almost pawned his wife and child to loan sharks. So, she was incredibly envious of how my family doted on me. On her first day at our house, when she saw my bedroom – the largest in the house with the best view, and even its own bathroom and walk-in closet – she clung to my dad with a pitiful look and said, “Dad Jack, I’m so envious of Ava. She gets to live in such a big room. I’ve never had my own room my entire life.” My dad patted her shoulder sympathetically and then turned to me, saying, “Ava, why don’t you let your sister have your room? She’s never lived in such a big house before.” I scoffed, “Is it my fault she’s never lived in a big house? Why should I give up my room for her? Just because she calls you ‘Dad Jack’ doesn’t mean you’re her real father. Why don’t you two get a DNA test? Maybe she really is your biological daughter!” Before my dad could respond, I turned to Zoe and said, “Let me tell you something. This house was bought by my dad and my mom together. Now it’s in my name. It’s already generous of me to let you and your mom live here. If you’re not happy with it, you can leave. Don’t be so picky.” Seeing the tense atmosphere, Lily quickly came over to smooth things over. She laughed awkwardly and said, “No, no, we don’t need to take your room. The guest room is fine too. It’s much bigger than our old place.” Zoe wiped away non-existent tears and nodded, following Lily to the guest room. My parents met in college. My grandparents on my mom’s side were university professors, so naturally, my mom was very accomplished. My dad came from a poor background but studied very hard, so my grandparents approved of their relationship when my parents got together. It wasn’t until after they got married that my mom realized my dad was weak-willed and indecisive, and a total mama’s boy. My mom had received higher education in the city, while my paternal grandmother was uneducated and very traditional, always trying to change my mom’s ways. So, their relationship as mother-in-law and daughter-in-law was always tense. My dad always sided with his mother, expecting my mom to give in to grandma in everything. That’s why my mom chose to divorce him. It wasn’t until I was in 11th grade that my dad married Zoe’s mom, and Zoe moved into our house. After the divorce, my mom went abroad to develop her career. My maternal grandparents had always loved rural life, so they returned to their countryside home after retirement. Although I was legally under my mom’s custody, I still lived with my dad for the convenience of schooling. “Ava, Zoe is your sister. You shouldn’t be so harsh to her,” my dad came to lecture me after they went back to their room. I flipped through the book in my hand, not even bothering to look up. “Mom only had me. I don’t have any sister.” Knowing my temperament, my dad could only shake his head helplessly and then said, “Zoe has transferred to your school and should be in your class. You can take care of her a bit, right?” “She’s in my school? Who’s paying for her tuition? You or her dad?” I asked. The high school I attended was a private school with excellent teaching quality and a nice environment, so the tuition wasn’t cheap. Zoe’s dad owed a ton of debt and definitely couldn’t afford the tuition, and as for her mom, she didn’t seem to have a job at the moment. “Your Aunt Lily has found a job and starts tomorrow, so she’ll pay for Zoe’s tuition. I’ll only cover her daily expenses. After all, we’re married now, and it doesn’t feel right to be too calculative about these small matters. Dad hopes you can understand,” my dad replied. I nodded, indicating that I was fine with it. “But my allowance needs to increase.” My dad fondly patted my head and said, “No problem.” Just when I was relieved that this new sister, though a bit annoying at first, seemed okay after a few days of living together, she started causing trouble. Although my mom worked abroad, she still sent me gifts every month, mostly jewelry and clothes. I kept them all carefully in my room. Every time I opened a package, Zoe would come over to look. I had reminded her not to enter my room without permission, and she had obediently agreed. Until one summer day, I accidentally discovered a selfie in her social media posts. She was wearing a dress from a niche luxury brand. It happened to be exactly the same as the birthday gift my mom had sent me last year. When I got home and opened my closet, the dress was indeed missing. During dinner that evening, I pretended to casually mention that I had seen her photo and asked Zoe, “Your dress is very pretty. When did you buy it?” A flash of panic crossed her face as she stammered, “Just… just a while ago. I bought it randomly while shopping.” “Isn’t that dress quite expensive? Since when did you have so much money?” I continued to ask. Unexpectedly, Zoe suddenly got angry and slammed the table. “Why do you keep asking? Can’t I buy clothes? Are you jealous that I have nice things?” “I’m just asking because I just lost a dress exactly like yours,” I explained. “You lost something and you’re questioning me? I’ve never been in your room!” she shouted self-righteously. I nodded, “If you’ve never been in my room, then there must be a thief in the house. The price of the dress I lost is enough to file a police report.” I said as I took out my phone, preparing to call the police. “Why are you calling the police? I… I thought the dress looked nice, so I wanted to borrow it,” Zoe tried to grab my phone but I dodged her. “Borrow? Did you ask me? Did I agree? Taking without asking is stealing!” I retorted. “You’re being too harsh! I just wore it once! I was going to return it to you!” Zoe yelled at me. “Where’s the dress? Give it back to me!” I extended my hand towards her. She reluctantly took out a crumpled dress from her backpack and handed it to me. The brand new dress now had a large tear in it. “I… I accidentally damaged it,” she said, her voice filled with guilt. “I had never worn this dress. It cost $1,280. Pay up,” I said, putting the dress back in her hands. “How can it be over a thousand dollars? Just say you want to extort money from me!” Zoe jumped up angrily when she heard the price. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. I went back to my room and found the receipt, then handed it to her. To my surprise, she snatched the receipt and tore it into pieces, then threw it along with the dress into the trash can. She said smugly, “Now there’s no receipt, and your dress is just garbage. I won’t pay for it.” The birthday gift from my mom that I hadn’t even worn myself, she ruined it and called it garbage. Filled with rage, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. Zoe was stunned for a few seconds before she started fighting back. Just then, Lily came home from work and saw us wrestling on the floor. She rushed over to pull us apart. On the surface, she was breaking up the fight, but she was actually pinching my soft waist several times. So I simply started fighting both of them indiscriminately. Seeing that I was attacking without discrimination, Lily also began to pull my hair. While fighting, she cursed, “You little bitch, your dad is on a business trip, and no one can protect you now. You’ve been so arrogant towards us. If I don’t beat you to death today, I’m not Lily!” I couldn’t fight both of them alone. Seizing the opportunity, I bit down hard on Lily’s thigh. She screamed, pounding on me to make me let go, but the more she and Zoe hit me, the harder I bit down, until my mouth was filled with the taste of blood. Only when Lily and Zoe let go did I release my bite, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth. While they went to the hospital to get bandaged, I quickly went back to my room to pack my luggage. The next day, I woke up early. While Lily and her daughter were still asleep, I set the central air conditioning temperature to 90 degrees Fahrenheit and packed all the remote controls and keys into my suitcase. Before leaving, I changed the password on the smart lock and locked the door. The smart lock couldn’t be opened from the inside without the password. With the summer heat in River City reaching nearly 104 degrees Fahrenheit, you two can enjoy yourselves at home. After doing all this, I dragged my suitcase out, my hair messy and clothes torn from yesterday’s fight with Lily and her daughter. To exit the community, I had to pass through a small park within the complex. At this time, it was when the elderly residents did their morning exercises. We had lived in this community for a long time. My parents were kind people, and I often tutored the neighborhood kids because of my good grades, so many residents knew me. I walked towards the main gate, crying. Soon, I was stopped by someone. “Oh my, isn’t this the little girl from the Ava’s family? What happened to you?” an old lady asked me. I shook my head, wiping my tears without saying a word. I knew this old lady. Her name was Mrs. Johnson, and she lived in apartment 301 of our building. “Where’s your dad? Who bullied you? Tell me, grandma will stand up for you,” Mrs. Johnson said, holding my hand sympathetically. At the mention of my dad, I cried even louder, saying I missed my parents. Hearing the commotion, people nearby gathered around, asking what had happened. Between sobs, I told them about yesterday’s events. During my story, a kind-hearted aunt, knowing I hadn’t eaten, even gave me two sandwiches. I cried while saying I couldn’t stay in that house anymore and was going to find my grandparents. The aunt who gave me the sandwiches was Mrs. Brown, known in our community for being gossipy but kind-hearted. After hearing my story, Mrs. Brown slapped her thigh and said, “I knew that mother and daughter weren’t good people. When they first moved in, they were so unfriendly when I greeted them. I can’t believe they would bully the child like this when her father is away. They really have no conscience!” “That’s right, no stepmother truly cares for her stepchild. Poor Ava,” someone else chimed in. “She’s a mother herself, how could she do such a thing?” another person added. Mrs. Johnson combed my messy hair while speaking, and Mrs. Brown went home to get some iodine to disinfect the scratches on my neck. After Mrs. Brown finished treating my wounds, I stood up and bowed to thank everyone, saying I was going to stay at my grandparents’ house. As I left the community, I could still hear indignant discussions behind me. You’ve messed with the wrong person. The neighbors’ gossip alone will drown you. Just as I got into the car, Lily’s call came through. I hung up and then turned off my phone.

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## My mother is the CEO of the powerful Brown Financial Group, a titan in the industry. My uncle is a globally renowned investor, and my grandfather was one of the first entrepreneurs in the country to revolutionize the economy. And yet, my father gave all his love and support to a foster child, Ryan Brown—the son of a housekeeper. Ryan not only stole my identity but also took my fiancée, with my father’s full backing. Together, they did everything they could to suppress me, tearing apart my life piece by piece. On Ryan’s 21st birthday, at the grand celebration held in his honor, he blocked my way, sneering at me in front of everyone. “A nobody like you, a foster child, has no business being at my coming-of-age party.” “You’re an embarrassment. Looks like I’ll have to teach you some manners myself.” He then rallied the staff and had them beat me until my legs were broken, my eyes gouged out. To seal my fate, they dumped me into the icy pool behind the mansion, leaving me to die. In my previous life, I endured their torment in silence, hoping to earn my father’s approval. I never exposed Ryan for the fraud he was. And for that, I paid the ultimate price—death. But now, I’ve been reborn. Watching Ryan bask in his arrogance and self-importance, I didn’t hesitate. I kicked him to the ground with brutal force, towering over him as he writhed in pain. My eyes were ice-cold as I said: “Who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that?” … The air in the grand ballroom felt frozen in time. No one could have predicted I’d pull a stunt like this. Expression cold as ice, I turned to the housekeeper, Sarah, and ordered, “Clean this mess up and return the room to its original state.” But Sarah ignored me. Instead, she rushed to Ryan’s side, helping him to his feet as she scolded me with a sharp tone, her voice dripping with fake righteousness: “Young Master, today is Master Ryan’s coming-of-age party. How could you create such a scene?” “I’ll report this to Mr. Brown immediately. He’ll make sure Master Ryan gets the justice he deserves.” Hearing this, I grabbed a chair, dragged it to the center of the room, and sat down with a smirk. My voice was laced with mockery as I said: “Young Master? Aren’t I the true eldest son of the Brown family? When did I become the ‘young master’ instead?” Sarah’s eyes flickered with panic for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered, her lips curling into a sneer. “You? The eldest son? Don’t kid yourself. You’re just a foster child in the Brown family. If you’re not a ‘young master,’ then what are you?” In my previous life, this very housekeeper had been one of my greatest tormentors. Sarah constantly sided with Ryan, aiding him in humiliating me. She manipulated my mother, turning her against me, and even helped Ryan frame me for failures I didn’t commit. In the end, Sarah and my father assisted Ryan in burning me alive. I’ll never forget the way she laughed as the flames consumed me. Her words dragged me back to the present, snapping me out of the memory. I let out a cold laugh. “A foster child? Me?” “Who else could it be?” Sarah retorted bitterly. “You’ve always been jealous of Master Ryan’s rightful place in this family. He’s gracious enough to tolerate you, but you keep pushing your luck. You should be grateful he hasn’t thrown you out!” I stared at her, unflinching. Everyone in the Brown family knew the truth—who the real heir was and who the imposter was. I shot Sarah a frigid glare. “You’re just a housekeeper in this family. Don’t forget your place.” “You’re fired.” Her expression twisted with disbelief, and she let out a disdainful laugh. “Fired? You? A foster child thinks he has the authority to fire me? Did you ask Master Ryan? Did you consult Mr. Brown?” At that moment, Ryan was helped up by a few staff members. His face was livid as he pointed at me and shouted: “Michael Brown, how dare you disrupt my birthday party? Just wait until I tell Dad about this—you’re finished!” He turned to the rest of the staff with fury in his voice. “What are you all standing around for? Get him out of here!” The staff hesitated, their eyes darting between Ryan and me. I chuckled lightly, savoring the panic that flickered in Ryan’s gaze. My father had married into the Brown family, so I’d taken my mother’s last name, Brown. As her only child and the true heir to the family fortune, I was the rightful eldest son. When I was sixteen, my father had brought home a boy, claiming he was his late brother’s orphaned son. “We should take him in,” he said. “It’s the right thing to do.” My mother, ever cautious, had insisted the decision be left to me. Back then, I naively believed my father’s words. I felt sorry for the boy and called him “little brother” out of pity. That’s when Ryan entered our home, but not as “Ryan Jones.” My father gave him our family name. He became Ryan Brown—the so-called “eldest son.” From that moment on, my father showered Ryan with love and attention, treating him like the golden child. And me? I became nothing more than an afterthought, a shadow in my own home. But now, reborn and armed with the knowledge of my past life, I finally understood. I am the true heir of the Brown family. Why should I let a fraud like Ryan trample all over me? The staff began to move toward me, clearly intending to drag me out. Ryan’s smug expression and Sarah’s sneering face only fueled my resolve. I stood my ground and swept my cold gaze across the room. “I am the eldest son of the Brown family. Touch me, and you’ll face my mother’s wrath when she returns. Are you prepared to answer to her?” The staff froze, glancing nervously at Ryan. Ryan’s face turned a sickly mix of green and white as fury twisted his features. “Michael, have you lost your mind? Everyone here knows you’re just a foster child in this family!” He sneered, his tone laced with mockery. “And you dare invoke Mom’s name? She’s out of town negotiating an important deal. If she’s delayed because of you, you’ll be the disgrace of the Brown family!” Sarah stepped forward, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Young Master, stop causing trouble. Everyone knows you’re the foster child here. Think about how angry Mr. Brown will be if you keep this up.” The guests began murmuring their agreement: “Exactly. Ryan is the real Brown heir.” “Unbelievable! At Ryan’s coming-of-age party, no less—this foster kid has no shame.” I clenched my fists, but my face remained calm. I turned to one of the servers and said, “Since they’re so eager to bring my father into this, go ahead. Ask him whether I’m the foster child or not.” The server hesitated, clearly torn, knowing how much Mr. Brown favored Ryan over me. If my father found out I’d disrupted Ryan’s party, he’d likely lash out at me in front of everyone. I smiled faintly, trying to ease the server’s discomfort. “It’s fine. Just go.” Reluctantly, the server nodded and left. Ryan smirked, crossing his arms. “Michael, when Dad gets here, this whole charade will end.” Sarah chimed in, her voice thick with mockery. “Young Master, you know how much Mr. Brown dotes on Ryan. Why would you put yourself in such a humiliating position?” I remained silent, staring at them with icy indifference. In my past life, the father I had adored had stood back and watched as Ryan stripped me of everything. He had even helped Ryan burn me alive, his cold eyes watching as the flames consumed me. They scattered my ashes into the sea and told my mother I had committed suicide. The grief broke her, leaving her bedridden and sick. But now, reborn from the ashes, I vowed to make them feel the searing pain of betrayal and the torment of a fiery death. This time, I would burn their world to the ground. 2 The sharp scolding echoed down the hallway as the butler emerged from my father’s study, his face flushed with humiliation and still wet with spit. He looked at me apologetically and said: “Mr. Brown said he’s busy getting dressed and will be down soon to attend Master Ryan’s coming-of-age party. Oh, and he also said… he hopes Young Master Michael won’t cause any more trouble.” I wasn’t surprised by the response. In fact, I was certain the butler had softened my father’s words. What he probably meant to say was: Tell him to get lost. After all, to my father, I was never good enough compared to Ryan. He always favored Ryan. Sarah, the ever-loyal housekeeper, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to twist the knife. Her voice dripped with mockery as she said, “Young Master Michael, I told you to stop, didn’t I? But no, you didn’t listen. Now look—Mr. Brown’s spoken. Regret it yet?” Ryan’s face lit up with triumph as he sneered at me. “Michael, you brought this on yourself. Stop embarrassing yourself and end this farce. Someone come and drag him out of here!” I narrowed my eyes and let out a cold laugh, about to retort when the doors to the ballroom opened. A woman in an elegant white gown walked in, stealing the attention of the entire room. My gaze froze for a moment. It was her—Megan Wren, my so-called fiancée. The woman my mother had arranged for a powerful alliance through marriage. The whispers started immediately: “That’s Megan Wren, the fiancée of the Brown family heir!” “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? And her family is just as prestigious as the Browns’. They’re a perfect match!” But Megan didn’t walk toward me. Instead, she went straight to Ryan, slipping her arm through his with a warm and tender smile. When her eyes landed on me, they were filled with nothing but disdain. “Michael,” she said sharply, “why are you here at Ryan’s party? You’re just the Brown family’s foster child. And to think—you lied to me, claiming you were the heir!” She scoffed and glanced at Ryan affectionately. “If it weren’t for Ryan telling me the truth, I might’ve been fooled. Imagine how humiliating it would’ve been if the Wren and Brown families had formed an alliance based on your lie!” I chuckled softly at her words. Back when the marriage was first proposed, it was her family who had begged for the union, desperate to link themselves to the Browns. I had reluctantly agreed. But after meeting Ryan, she’d fallen for his sweet words and decided he was the true heir, turning her contempt squarely on me. Her public display of affection for Ryan erased any lingering doubts the guests might’ve had about my identity. After all, who would mistake their own fiancé? Ryan’s smirk grew even wider as he slid his hand around Megan’s waist and gave me a mocking look. “So, Michael,” he taunted, “what do you have to say for yourself now?” Megan turned to me, her expression filled with disgust. “Let me make myself clear,” she said, her voice cold. “I’m here today for two reasons: to celebrate Ryan’s coming-of-age and to tell you, once and for all, that the person I love is your brother.” She crossed her arms and added with a sneer, “From now on, address me as your sister-in-law!” “Sister-in-law?” Her words brought back memories of my previous life—when she’d found out Ryan was the foster child, she’d knelt before my mother, screaming and crying that she’d always loved me. I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Sure, little sister,” I said mockingly. “As your big brother, I wish you and Ryan all the best. Make sure to lock it down.” Megan’s expression darkened, and her voice turned icy. “Little sister? You keep claiming Ryan is the foster child and that you’re the real heir. Where’s your proof?” I spread my arms out casually and gestured toward Ryan with a smirk. “Isn’t it obvious?” I stood tall and unflinching, exuding a natural air of authority. Even though the room was against me, my confidence was unshaken, the mark of someone born to lead. Ryan, on the other hand, fidgeted nervously. Despite his expensive, tailored suit, he couldn’t hide the hunched posture and shifty eyes that made him look like a fraud trying to fit into a world that wasn’t his. “And if you really want proof,” I said, reaching into my pocket, “how about this jade pendant?” I held up the piece of exquisite green jade, and gasps rippled through the crowd. “Wait, isn’t that the legendary jade pendant Mr. Brown gave to his child? There’s only one in the entire world!” “Doesn’t this mean… Michael might really be the true heir?” Ryan’s face twisted with panic, and his voice trembled as he stammered, “If I’m the foster child, then why would Dad side with me? That jade pendant must be a fake! You forged it!” Sarah quickly jumped in, her expression venomous. “Exactly! I just saw the real pendant on Ryan earlier. Yours is a counterfeit!” Megan chimed in, her voice dripping with scorn. “Even if it’s real, maybe you stole it. A pendant doesn’t prove anything.” Their accusations fed the crowd’s doubts, and murmurs of agreement spread. Sarah’s smirk widened as she added, “Michael, if you’re the true heir, then why doesn’t a single servant here call you Master? Look around—none of them respect you.” I scanned the room. Everywhere I looked, the servants avoided my gaze, keeping their heads down. They were afraid. Afraid of saying the wrong thing and facing punishment. Sarah seized the moment, her voice rising in triumph. “Today is Ryan’s special day, and you’ve done nothing but ruin it! You’ve disgraced the Brown name. Someone grab him and take him to Mr. Brown!” The servants moved toward me, but I remained calm. From a young age, I had trained in martial arts. Even though they outnumbered me, they were no match for me. One by one, they fell to the ground. I stood in the center of the ballroom, my clothes slightly rumpled but still composed. “Is that all you’ve got?” But before I could say more, Ryan grabbed a bottle of red wine and smashed it over my head. The glass shattered, and the sharp sting of wine and blood trickled down my face. I staggered, collapsing to the floor. Ryan stepped on my face, pressing down with increasing force as he sneered, “You think you’re tough? So what? You’re just a foster child playing pretend.” He snatched the jade pendant from me and clipped it onto his own belt, grinning triumphantly. Megan spat at me, her voice dripping with disdain. “See what happens when you try to take Ryan’s place? You’ve humiliated yourself!” Sarah poured a glass of wine over my head, laughing cruelly. “If you love talking nonsense so much, why not drink up?” I clenched my fists tightly, enduring the pain and humiliation. “When my mother gets back,” I said through gritted teeth, “you’ll all pay for this.” Unbeknownst to them, I had already called her. She was on her way, flying home as we spoke. Ryan crouched down, his tone mocking. “Your mother? Don’t make me laugh. She’s not here to protect you. And even if she were, Dad would side with me.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I could kill you right now, and he’d help me cover it up.” His words lit a fire in my chest. Not again. This time, I would turn the tables. 3 I seized the moment when Ryan wasn’t paying attention, flipping him to the ground and snatching back the jade pendant. Pinning him beneath me, I unleashed a flurry of punches. Every blow carried the weight of my past life’s agony—of skin scorched by fire, of betrayal and humiliation. Sarah screamed as she ran over to help Ryan, but I sent her flying with a single shove. Megan, standing nearby, tried to copy Ryan’s earlier move, grabbing a wine bottle to smash it over my head. But in her panic, she missed—and the bottle shattered across Ryan’s face. The scene descended into chaos. People rushed to intervene, shouting and scrambling. Then, from behind me, I heard a furious roar: “Stop this madness, you animal!” I turned slowly, my blood boiling as I faced my father. My knuckles turned white as I clenched my fists. “Animal?” I said, my voice trembling with rage. “Tell me, father—who are you calling an animal? Me? Or Ryan?” He stormed toward me, his face twisted in fury, and slapped me hard across the face. “Of course I mean you! You dare lay a hand on Ryan? Have you lost your mind? Do you have a death wish?!” While I was still stunned from the blow, he crouched down and helped Ryan up, his face filled with concern. “Ryan, are you okay? Did that brute hurt you?” he asked, his voice tender. Suppressing the rage rising in my chest, I stood and dusted myself off, forcing a bitter smile. “I’m an animal, am I? Then what does that make you, father? An old animal?” I had always known he favored Ryan. But still, I couldn’t help but ask myself: did he ever see me as his son? Ryan, wiping fake tears from his eyes, threw himself into my father’s arms. “Father, you have to do something about Michael,” he whimpered, his voice trembling with false emotion. “He’s gone crazy!” My father turned to me, his eyes blazing with rage. “Crazy? You’re worse than crazy! Fighting your own family in front of our guests—you’ve disgraced the Brown name!” I met his gaze head-on, cold and unflinching. “So what if I hit him?” I said, my voice sharp and cutting. “This family’s name is Brown, not Moore!” At my words, my father’s eyes widened in shock. Then, with a roar of fury, he slapped me again, harder this time. “You’ve gone too far! Do you want me to disown you?!” I refused to back down, staring at him with defiance. “If you want to disown me, go ahead. Let’s see if you have the guts!” Before he could respond, Sarah stepped forward, her face painted with faux concern. “Mr. Brown, you have to stand up for Ryan! Michael didn’t just ruin Ryan’s coming-of-age ceremony—he attacked him!” Megan, emboldened, chimed in with her own accusations. “That’s not all, uncle! He’s been harassing me, too! He even tried to force himself on me!” She glanced toward Ryan with teary eyes. “If it weren’t for Ryan, who knows what might’ve happened to me?” The crowd erupted, their voices rising in condemnation: “She’s right! Mr. and Mrs. Brown have spoiled him too much—that’s why this foster child is so arrogant!” “Exactly! He’s just a foster son, but now he’s acting like he owns the place!” The weight of their accusations pressed down on me like a suffocating net. Lies twisted into truths, and the whispers of the crowd became a deafening roar. My father cast a pitying glance at Ryan before turning his furious gaze back on me. “Do you hear that, Michael? Is the entire room lying about you?” He pointed a shaking finger at me. “Apologize to Ryan and the guests immediately!” His words burned like fire, igniting the fury inside me. I pointed at Ryan, my voice steady but filled with venom. “Him? He doesn’t deserve my apology.” My father’s face twisted with rage. “Doesn’t deserve it? What about me? I’m your father! I’m ordering you to apologize—and you’ll do it on your knees!” The room fell silent as his words echoed. Ryan, ever the actor, put on a show of humility. “Father, there’s no need to humiliate him like that. He’s still my brother, after all. Let’s not hurt his pride.” But his smirk betrayed the satisfaction he felt. The crowd erupted with praise for Ryan: “Ryan is so kindhearted—he’s a true Brown heir!” “What a gentleman! He’s the perfect future head of the Brown family.” Sarah sneered. “Young Master Ryan, you’re too soft. That’s why this foster child thinks he can get away with anything. Making him kneel is the least he deserves!” My father nodded, his voice colder than ice. “If it weren’t for the fact that he still carries the Brown name, I’d have thrown him in jail already!” Megan, leaning into Ryan with a coy smile, added, “Exactly. Ryan, you’re destined to lead this family. You can’t let emotions cloud your judgment.” Ryan sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Michael, you’ve really forced my hand today. But you don’t have to kneel to me—we’re still family, after all.” His words dripped with false benevolence, his smirk daring me to resist. My father’s gaze bore into me, colder than ever. It wasn’t the look of a father—it was the glare of an enemy. “Do you hear that? Why can’t you be more like Ryan? Now, kneel and apologize!” I raised my chin defiantly. “And if I refuse?” My father’s face darkened. He took a deep breath and bellowed, “If you won’t kneel willingly, I’ll make you kneel! Someone, hold him down and force him to bow!” The servants hesitated, glancing at each other nervously. “Sir… if we force him, we might seriously hurt him.” “Then hurt him!” my father snapped. “If he dies, so be it! Do it now, or I’ll do it myself!” The servants advanced, their faces grim, muttering apologies under their breath. “Sorry, Michael. We have to follow orders…” They grabbed me, trying to force me to my knees, but I fought back with everything I had. My father grabbed a heavy cane and swung it at the back of my legs, hitting me with enough force to buckle my knees. I fell forward but refused to bow my head. I clenched my teeth as the pain burned through me, staring defiantly at the laughing faces around me. If kneeling meant submitting to Ryan, I’d rather die. My father pressed his hand against the back of my head, trying to force me down. But just as he was about to slam my head into the ground, a powerful voice boomed from the entrance: “I dare anyone to lay another hand on my son!”

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After receiving my year-end bonus, I took my four-year-old nephew, Oliver Blackwood, to the supermarket. “Oliver, pick anything you like. I’ll pay for it.” Oliver scratched his head, his soft, tender voice replying, “Thank you, Aunt Aurora. I don’t need anything.” I thought he was being considerate about how hard I worked to earn money, and I was deeply moved. But what he said next felt like a bucket of cold water being dumped over me. “Mom said the snacks and fruits you buy are too cheap. She told me to ask you for jewelry and then coax you into saving money to buy me a house and a car! “Aunt Aurora, Mom said you’re single and won’t get married. When you get old and die, all your money will be mine. I want to live in a big villa with a playground!” Staring at his innocent face, I was lost in thought. “Oliver, did your mom really tell you that?” I squatted down and held Oliver’s little hand, speaking softly. Oliver nodded earnestly. “Of course! I’m a good boy; I never lie! “Mom said that as long as I say sweet things to you, you’ll give me anything I want!” Forcing a smile, I said, “You’re a good boy, Oliver, but I don’t have enough money. How about today we buy some fruits and toys? If you keep being an honest and good kid, I’ll take you to the amusement park next time. Does that sound good?” “Yay!” Oliver cheered, throwing his arms around my neck and planting a kiss on my cheek before dragging me enthusiastically toward the supermarket. Watching his joyful, innocent smile, I heaved a long sigh. If not for Oliver’s candid words, I’d never have imagined the kind of schemes his mother, Celeste Langley, had been hatching. Celeste was my age, always wearing a warm, gentle smile, appearing kind and simple. When she started dating my brother, Elliott Blackwood, I treated her exceptionally well. She mentioned liking a particular brand of cosmetics once, so I spent a month’s salary to buy it for her as a birthday gift. She admired a certain singer, so I camped out in front of my computer for two days to snag concert tickets for her. Elliott was unreliable, lazy, and lacking ambition. Feeling guilty about their son’s shortcomings, my parents treated Celeste even better. They had always been willing to fulfill her every request, carefully attending to her, afraid that she might suffer even the slightest grievance. When Celeste and Elliott began discussing marriage, my parents insisted on buying their marital home in the same neighborhood as ours. That way, they could eat at our house daily, have their home cleaned, and get help with childcare in the future. Celeste made no objections, instead linking arms with my mom and praising her thoughtfulness. My parents emptied a large portion of their savings to fund a lavish wedding for them and handed Celeste a bank card with seed money for their new family. After she married into our family, Celeste would come over to my parents’ place for meals every day. At first, everything was great, but over time, the tensions between her and my parents grew more and more. She complained that my mom’s cooking was too salty and not to her liking. So, after work, I would study recipes and cook lighter meals that suited her taste. She criticized my mom for not cleaning thoroughly enough, so I started cleaning their home every few days. She complained that my dad’s voice was too loud and annoying, so he began speaking in hushed tones. She even threw a fit when my parents didn’t wish her a happy birthday at midnight. “Now that I’m married, I guess I’m not important anymore! I see how it is. I’ll always be an outsider in this family! “Forgetting my birthday shows how little you care! Don’t tell me you treat me like your daughter. It’s obvious I don’t matter!” She would even get upset over fruit in the fridge. “You’re hiding the fruit from me, aren’t you? Afraid I’ll eat it all? Your family is just too much!”

My parents didn’t dare to defend themselves, fearing it would make her angry, treading on eggshells. Every time Celeste came over, they instructed me to wash the fruit, arrange it neatly on a platter, and repeatedly invite her to eat it. She liked eating durian, so my mother would send it to her home. She loved shopping, so my mom would frequently slip her money, ensuring she never went without. Yet Celeste treated me with extraordinary warmth. She’d link arms with me, chat endlessly, and even buy me collectibles I adored or treat me to late-night snacks. She said, “Aurora, you work so hard cooking and cleaning for me. I can’t thank you enough! “I like you the most. From the moment I met you, I knew we’d get along so well! “Aurora, you’re the person I feel closest to in this family!” I sympathized with Celeste for leaving her own parents and trying to fit into our family. It seemed natural for her to have some friction with my parents. Whenever my parents complained that Celeste was two-faced or had changed, I always defended her. “Celeste left her parents to come to our home for love. She has to adapt to a new environment and adjust to living with us. It’s completely normal for her to feel anxious, upset, and frustrated. “We need to understand her and show her more love and tolerance. “Mom, Dad, treat Celeste like your own daughter. Stop being so critical of her all the time! “Celeste is actually a really good person; she just has a bit of a ‘princess syndrome’, but it’s not a big deal. Just pamper her a bit, and she’ll be fine. She’s both gentle and innocent! Stop nitpicking over every little thing! “She only pays attention to details because she craves love and attention. What’s wrong with that? “How would you feel if someone called me two-faced in another family?” My parents would fall silent, guilt-ridden. They stopped nitpicking Celeste and tried even harder to please her. My mom tried hard to please Celeste, taking her shopping and buying her anything Celeste liked. During holidays, she would even prepare gifts for Celeste in advance They would do their best to make her happy, always managing to get Celeste smiling They would even occasionally pay for the items she added to her Amazon shopping cart! This effort seemed to improve their relationship. When Celeste became pregnant with Oliver, we treated her like royalty. She quit her job to focus on her pregnancy. My mom accompanied her on walks and to yoga classes. To ensure Celeste’s health, my mom bought numerous pregnancy nutrition books. After work, I would go to Celeste’s home, cooking meals from those books and caring for her as best I could. I would often buy her maternity milk powder, fruits, and calcium tablets, taking great care of her. When Oliver was born, Celeste complained about the financial burden on Elliott. Heartbroken, my parents dipped into their retirement savings to support their little family. I volunteered to cover Oliver’s milk and diapers, even though it left me pinching pennies for years. But whenever Oliver smiled at me, I convinced myself it was all worth it. In my mind, family should always support and help each other. Celeste had just given birth and was emotionally unstable. She was so good to me, so I definitely couldn’t let her worry about money. While money was no longer an issue, childcare was a massive challenge. I was busy working, often returning home late at night. Elliott was too tired from work during the day and lacked patience. One night, while trying to put Oliver to sleep, he almost dropped him. He broke six bottles trying to prepare formula. All the burdens fell on my mom. Not only did she take care of Oliver during the day, but she also stayed overnight at Celeste’s house. After several days of this, she became seriously ill and had to stay in the hospital for several days. Three days later, Celeste, disheveled and desperate, came to me. “Aurora, these past few days of taking care of Oliver have been nothing but fights with Elliott. Our life is in shambles. “I’m so exhausted! I feel like I have no freedom. Everything revolves around the baby! “I can’t breathe. It feels like there’s no light at the end of the tunnel! “Sometimes, when Oliver is crying nonstop, I just want to jump off the building with him! “Aurora, I can’t stand his crying. It drives me crazy. What’s wrong with me?”

I panicked, thinking this was a textbook case of postpartum depression. After discussing it with my parents, my mom became so anxious she discharged herself from the hospital that very day. My parents gave Elliott a stern scolding, but Elliott shrugged nonchalantly and said, “I can’t help it. I’m already exhausted every day, and now you expect me to take care of the baby? That’s impossible. “Mom’s out of the hospital now, right? You can just take the baby and care for him yourselves! I’m your only son; if you won’t help me, who will?” My parents sighed in resignation. To give Celeste some much-needed rest, we decided to bring Oliver to our home. Worried that my mom was overworked, I took the initiative to care for Oliver on weekends and after work. Once Oliver was with us, Celeste’s depression completely vanished. Elliott and Celeste also stopped arguing. Celeste would visit occasionally to see Oliver, but sometimes, she wouldn’t come by for an entire week. She spent her days dressed to the nines, going shopping and eating out. I looked at the crying Oliver in my arms, feeling hopeless. She was the one who gave birth, yet I was the one left to deal with the stress and exhaustion. Still, I never once complained because Celeste truly understood me. Whenever my parents pressured me to get married, she was the only one who firmly stood by my side. “Aurora doesn’t want to get married, so don’t force her! “Does marriage guarantee happiness? You’re just pushing her into a pit of fire!” I was deeply moved as she linked her arm through mine and smiled warmly. “Aurora, staying single is great! Who says you have to get married at a certain age? “You earn your own money, have a promising future, and are surrounded by family and friends who care for you. Isn’t being single so much freer? Don’t let others’ opinions bother you. I’ll always support you! “Just focus on raising our Oliver! When he grows up and becomes successful, how could he possibly forget his dear aunt? “When you’re old, Oliver will take care of you!” I genuinely believed Celeste cared about me, and I grew even closer to her. And now, I realized that she intended for me to spend all my money on Oliver. She was kind to me simply because she was worried that once I had my own family and child, I wouldn’t be as good to Oliver. Over the years, I poured my heart and soul into Oliver, giving him everything I could. From the moment he was born, I paid for his formula and diapers. As he grew older, I bought him clothes and toys. I took him to amusement parks, bought him snacks and fruits, and even enrolled him in early education classes. But it turned out that wasn’t enough for Celeste. What she really wanted was for me to buy Oliver a house and a car and even fund his wedding! I thought to myself, “Why on earth should I take on Celeste’s responsibilities?” It was laughable, utterly absurd! When we returned home from the supermarket, Celeste was already there. She looked at the large shopping bags in my hands and smiled brightly. “Oliver, you’ve made Aunt Aurora buy you so many things again! That’s so naughty of you! “Next time, you can’t do this again. Aunt Aurora works so hard to earn her money!” Oliver nodded with an innocent expression. Perhaps my earlier encouragement stayed with him because he glanced up at me thoughtfully. Then, he turned to Celeste and blurted out, “I get it, Mom! These things are all too cheap. We should have Aunt Aurora save up to buy me jewelry, a house, and a car!” Oliver’s words left everyone stunned.

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My husband is a lawyer, renowned for his dedication to justice and his kind demeanor. Yet, in an attempt to clear the name of his first love, he personally disposed of a disfigured female body by throwing it off a cliff. Unbeknownst to him, that body belonged to his wife, who was five months pregnant. What he also didn’t know is that I’m a System Strategy Woman, and I have an uncanny ability to survive. The night was engulfed in a torrential downpour, washing over the ground. My body lay on the asphalt road, my face unrecognizable, blood mingling with the mud, forming a stream, though the source of the bleeding was not apparent. The man hesitated, conflicted. But soon, he donned gloves, lifted my head, and began dragging me to the roadside. This road ran along a mountain, with a sheer cliff at its edge. This man was my husband, Finn. Two hours earlier, his childhood sweetheart had called him. Nora’s voice was frantic, as she cried for his help: “Finn, I hit someone. What should I do? I’m terrified.” He rushed over. Upon arrival, he immediately embraced the trembling Nora in the car, comforting her: “Nora, don’t worry, I’m here, I’m here.” Nora sobbed uncontrollably, eventually calming down: “Finn, I went up the mountain to pray for your mother today. I didn’t expect to hit someone at this turn, and there was so much blood, sob sob…” Finn gently patted her back, soothing her softly: “It’s alright, it’s alright, I’m here.” The rain had soaked the body, making it much heavier. Finn dragged me until he stumbled over a stone and fell heavily onto me. Seeing my blood-streaked face, he was so frightened that he staggered back several steps, his throat clenching. Finn crouched on the ground, dry heaving. After a while, he dragged the body to the edge of the cliff. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and hurled the body off the cliff. Finn leaned over to peer into the dark abyss below, clutching his chest as he exhaled deeply. That night, he took Nora back to the mountain temple to stay for the night. They felt the relief of surviving the ordeal. Nora smiled sweetly, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek: “Finn, I knew you always cared for me the most.” Finn’s expression was a bit stiff, but his gaze at Nora was as gentle as a calm sea.

A week later, my body drifted ashore on the riverbank. By the time an old fisherman discovered it, the body was severely decomposed and bloated. “A body was found at Clear River!” The news spread online. Finn was aware of the news early on. But he was more preoccupied with having someone destroy the car from that night. His assistant knocked and entered, hesitating before handing him a vehicle registration. “Attorney Finn, while handling the cars, I found that one of the license plates belongs to your wife.” Finn’s eyes flashed with panic for a moment, then he decisively said: “It must be Eloise! She hired someone to frame Nora for murder.” He quickly took out his phone to call me. He dialed several times, but no one answered. The silence around him was thick, Finn’s expression stiffened, his hand clenched tightly. With a “crack!” the phone shattered on the ground. “She made such a big mistake herself and still dares not to answer the phone!” My soul heard those words and chuckled coldly. What a pity, he almost realized I was dead. The System couldn’t help but mock: This jerk must be insane, they’re a perfect match like a toilet and its lid! The front desk called, saying Nora had arrived. Nora sat comfortably on the sofa, smiling at Finn: “Finn, I made your favorite Sweet and Sour Ribs today.” Finn’s expression was unnatural, somewhat distracted. I had also made him Sweet and Sour Ribs before. Back then, to learn how to make it well, I begged the chef from his favorite restaurant for a long time. As a cooking novice, I didn’t know how many blisters I got on my hands. It took a whole year to finally make something he could eat. Nora affectionately pulled his arm, leaning her entire body against him. Finn hated it when I clung to him like this, he said it made it impossible for him to work or eat. “Not bad, Nora could be a chef.” The woman acted coy, murmuring: “No way, I only want to cook for you.” What a sickeningly sweet pair of a scumbag and a wench. The System was annoyed: So irritating, so irritating, what did you see in him back then? I pressed my lips together, forcing a smile: “Probably blind.”

I was indeed blind. I’m a System Career Strategy Woman, and my task here was to help Finn successfully take control of the Finn Family. Finn is an illegitimate child that Asher Finn secretly raised without his wife’s knowledge. The Finn Family has always been strict, and all children are from the legitimate wife. However, Dahlia’s womb was uncooperative, only giving birth to a daughter. Before Asher Finn passed away, he confessed the truth about the illegitimate child. Old Mr. Finn, considering the father-son relationship and feeling for the Finn Family’s bloodline being left outside. Finn was brought back to the Finn Family. But due to his awkward status, he was always excluded from the Finn Family. The first time I met Finn was in the hospital. He had just survived a car accident. His biological mother’s ashes were secretly hidden by Mrs. Finn. He developed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, becoming irritable and restless. Like a frightened fawn. I felt sorry for him, so I deliberately got close, accompanying him to recover. From being an unnoticed, easily oppressed illegitimate child to now the Finn Family’s leader. Finn realized his dream, establishing a law firm. His reputation spread, known as a champion of justice. I forcefully intervened in his life, becoming his dependence. I stayed with him for seven years. In those seven years, not only did he become accustomed to me, but I also genuinely fell for him. So when the System reminded me that my strategy task was complete, I stayed. Because that pure-hearted boy told me I was his only love, his true love for life. When he clumsily and awkwardly recited his marriage vows, saying he wanted to have a family with me, I didn’t hesitate for a moment. I knew his biggest heartache was his biological mother’s ashes. I used every connection to help him find them, negotiating with Mrs. Finn. I still remember risking my life to find his mother’s ashes. Finn was as fragile as a child, holding the ashes and crying for a long time. At that time, the way he looked at me was as gentle as the sea, sickeningly sweet. I thought his love would never disappear.

On the eighth day of my disappearance, the hospital couldn’t find me, so they called my emergency contact. When Finn received the call, he was momentarily stunned, but quickly returned to his normal demeanor. “Lydia has been sick these days, resting at home. Please handle the paperwork on this end.” The face of the Finn Family’s leader was effective. The person on the other end repeatedly agreed and even specifically advised me to rest well before returning to work, no rush. Finn stared at the phone for a long time, somewhat distracted, then murmured to himself: “It’s been so long, there’s a limit to sulking, not even a single call, truly heartless.” He opened my profile, scrolling through the chat history. Looking at recent messages, mostly me expressing concern for him, only to receive an “OK” gesture emoji or read without response. Opening the contacts, the call log still showed the several missed calls I made to him over a week ago. Finn had changed, becoming increasingly impatient. Even communicating with him had become very difficult. I ironed his suit the night before, but the next day he left wearing another one. Before he went out, I reminded him: “It’s raining today, remember to take an umbrella.” He frowned, impatiently saying: “Oh.” But left the umbrella at the entrance. The photo in the living room was the first picture we took after dating. He was looking at me, I was looking at the camera, smiling brightly. But after being torn and glued back, the people in the photo looked a bit eerie. He looked at it for a long time, then took out the original from his phone, instructing his assistant to print a new one. A broken mirror can’t be made whole again, so why pretend to be deeply in love with me? Without my interference, he should be happier.

At a gathering, someone invited a group of beauties to liven things up. Only Finn sat in the corner, his finger fixed on our chat window, scrolling through the messages. Wesley leaned over, and Finn instinctively turned off the phone screen. “Hey Finn, what’s up? Fighting with your wife?” “How about I call her, women just need a little coaxing.” Finn picked up a glass of wine, his expression indifferent: “Drink.” Finn ended up drinking too much, mumbling incessantly. Wesley called me many times, but no one answered. He asked Finn: “What do we do if your wife doesn’t answer?” Finn lay back on the sofa, eyes closed, finally whispering: “Nora, Nora…” I sat there expressionlessly, coldly watching him. A sharp pain pricked the deepest part of my heart. Nora arrived quickly, originally intending to take Finn to a hotel room. But drunk Finn insisted on going home. Back home, Nora helped Finn to the bed, affectionately feeding him water. She quickly stripped off her clothes, snuggling up to him. Finn held her tightly, murmuring softly: “Why did it take so long to come back.” Just when I thought there’d be a scene I didn’t want to see, Finn suddenly pushed Nora away. His eyes were clearer: “Nora?” Nora’s expression was suggestive, continuing to cling to him: “It’s me, Finn.” “They say the heavens can’t beat a Childhood Sweetheart, we’re the original pair.” Nora continued to provoke: “Why can’t you just face your feelings?” When I got home, Nora helped Finn to the bed and gently gave him a glass of water. Then she quickly stripped her clothes and nestled close to him. Finn held her tightly, murmuring softly, “Why did you take so long to come back?” Just when I thought things might get more intense, Finn suddenly pushed Nora away. His eyes cleared a bit as he asked, “Nora?” With a suggestive look, Nora stayed close to him, saying, “It’s me, Brother Finn.” “People say that destiny can’t surpass a childhood bond; we’re meant to be together.” Nora continued to provoke him, “Why can’t you acknowledge your true feelings?” Hearing this made my stomach churn with disgust. A destiny that can’t surpass a childhood bond—what about the destiny that’s lost? Before pursuing Finn, I was well aware of his social circle. Nora was the daughter of his family’s housekeeper. She grew up with him, and because of Finn’s protection, she was able to attend the prestigious school she dreamed of. She enjoyed privileges like a young lady, all because when she first arrived at the Finn Family’s home, she was the only one who approached him. Before agreeing to be with Finn, I cautiously asked him, “Have you ever liked anyone else?” He answered directly, “No.” He even voluntarily explained his female friends, mentioning Nora himself. “She’s my housekeeper’s daughter. We were close as kids, but she went abroad, and we lost touch. If anything, we’re just friends.” He earnestly told me, “Lydia, I know the difference between love and friendship.” But after Nora returned to the country, he spent my birthday shopping with her. He let her post ambiguous messages on Twitter. The comments were filled with shippers. “My dear Nora deserves it! Finn is the one who’s lucky.” “Aw, secretly showing PDA again. I love childhood sweetheart stories.” “I knew Nora came from an extraordinary family and knew the heir of the Finn Family since childhood.” “Mom and Dad, I’m born!” Holding my phone, I confronted him. Finn nonchalantly explained, “Nora is an influencer; she needs me for marketing, to increase followers and hype.” With tears in my eyes, I questioned him in shock, “Do you know how much trouble your marketing has caused me?” Finn and I had been in love for seven years, and our friends and family knew it. We had plenty of photos together. Because of this hype, people dug up our photos and doxxed my personal information. They even came to my hospital to cause a scene, disrupting public order. I was forced to become the “homewrecker” in the eyes of others. In the end, Finn reluctantly compromised and dealt with some of the troublemakers at the hospital. That night, Nora posted content saying, “Just joking~” But those words only seemed like a couple’s playful banter. In many choices between me and Nora, Finn chose Nora. I’ve seen how he loved me, so how could I not see when he didn’t? The day Finn successfully took over the Finn Family, we planned to celebrate at a bar. At first, he kept fiddling with his phone, and I worried that he had something urgent. He said he was just replying to work messages. I was reassured. After a few drinks, Finn looked at me with deep affection: “Lydia, I’m so lucky to have met you. I’ll love you well in this life, the next, and the one after that…” I was moved to tears and joked, “If one day you don’t love me anymore, just tell me. We can part on good terms without any entanglement.” But later, I found out that the messages that day were sent to Nora. He feared she might lack food or clothing and sent her fifty thousand without a second thought. People who betray genuine feelings deserve to face harsh consequences. But I clearly said that if you stop loving me, just let me know. If you don’t love, why hurt? My thoughts drifted back as Finn listened to Nora’s sweet words, dazed for a moment but still avoided her tender gaze, replying hoarsely, “Nora, you should go back.” The next day, Finn’s hand instinctively reached out beside him, waking up in shock. He carefully looked around the slightly empty house, his gaze landing on a sticky note on the fridge. Both Finn and I have busy work schedules and often don’t check our phones. Whenever I head out, I always write down my whereabouts on a sticky note. The newest sticky note read: “I’m going to the mountain to pray for mom. I’ll be back tonight.” He quickly shifted his gaze, lips pursed, “She knows to leave a note but doesn’t know to come back quickly!” He had been on a business trip for many days, so he hadn’t seen these sticky notes. Just a few steps away, a glance at the sticky note, and he would have known the truth. After a night of a hangover, Finn’s stomach problem subtly flared up. He opened the drawer and found the medicine I had prepared for him. Inside was an agreement that caught his attention. It was a divorce agreement with the woman’s signature, which I had planned to discuss with him after returning from the mountain. I thought this was what he wanted too. Finn, in a rage, tore up the agreement, his breathing becoming heavier, and made numerous calls to me that went unanswered. He clenched his fists and slammed the coffee table hard. It shattered, a piece of glass piercing his hand, blood pooling on the floor. With eyes wide open, he shouted into the air, “Joan, dare to play hard to get with me? If you have the guts, don’t ever come back!” With his stomach acting up, he stayed home to rest for two days. Nora called him, but he didn’t answer. Nora came to see him, but he wouldn’t meet her. Unshaven and locked in his room, he kept calling me. Inside, I felt nothing, just fed up. I asked the system: When can I leave? “Host, the time tunnel entrance is being repaired, specific time unknown.” I watched as Finn opened our chat box again, thought for a long time, and sent me a Snapchat. “Lydia, come back when you’re done being mad. Let’s start over.” “I don’t hate you anymore.” Oh, right, he hated me. I had painstakingly retrieved his birth mother’s ashes from Mrs. Finn, which had mysteriously disappeared. In the end, it was Nora who risked her life to recover them. Nora knew I was a strategy woman, and my appearance beside Finn was too coincidental. She used this to convince Finn that I was someone Mrs. Finn had placed by his side. He believed her. No matter how I explained, He gripped my neck tightly, eyes filled with cold sarcasm. “I never thought you’d hide so deeply, Joan!” “Joan, how dare you? It’s as easy for me to deal with you as crushing an ant.” …… Now, Finn’s hypocritical act is truly nauseating. I really wonder if the beautiful, weak, and tragic boy from back then was truly him? Finn was still immersed in his deep role when he suddenly received a call from Nora. Nora trembled as she spoke, “Brother Finn, the police summoned me because of that night. What…do I do? I’m so scared.” “As long as I’m here, you’ll be fine.” Finn went to the police station. As a lawyer who upholds justice, he helped Nora fabricate evidence. He claimed that he was with Nora that night. He spent a lot of money to find a scapegoat, successfully clearing Nora’s name. After all the fuss, Finn returned home in the early hours. Lying on the couch, half asleep, he was awakened by a phone call in the middle of the night. “Hello, is this Mr. Finn? We are from the City Police Station. After DNA testing, a female corpse has been identified as your wife, Joan. We need you to come over for more details.” He was silent for a moment, then laughed mockingly, “What kind of joke is this? My wife went on a trip out of anger.” “I’m a lawyer, if you continue to curse or slander my wife, I have the right to sue you.” Finn eventually went to the police station. When he arrived at the morgue, I was completely naked, covered by a white cloth. He trembled as he slowly lifted the cloth, little by little. My originally bloodied and blurry face was pale, unrecognizable. My body was covered in scars, my abdomen unnaturally swollen. The coroner explained beside him, “The body was in a car accident before death, with multiple knife wounds on the face. The fatal wound was in the abdomen, causing death from blood loss.” The coroner hesitated before continuing, “There was a stillborn in the abdomen, estimated to be over five months.” The police officer comforted, “The suspect has been identified and confessed to the car accident. We believe the case will be resolved soon.” “Impossible.”

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When I was seven, I accidentally wandered into the basement and saw a woman in a red dress chained to the corner like an animal. That’s when I learned the ugly truth: my dad wasn’t just a monster—he was a maniac. The woman chained in the shadows wasn’t a stranger. She was my mother. For ten years, they’d been married. For ten years, he’d subjected her to unspeakable horrors. He forced her to eat rotting meat crawling with maggots, raped her whenever the mood struck, tore into her flesh with his teeth, and drank her blood. Sometimes, he’d make her dance barefoot on shards of broken glass, laughing as she bled. After that day, I started secretly helping her, slipping her food and water when I could. The summer I graduated high school, I saw my chance. My dad had left town on one of his business trips, and I finally worked up the courage to get her out. I thought I’d done it. I thought I’d saved her. But as we reached the front door, he appeared. It was like he’d known all along. What happened next still haunts me. The mother who had just moments ago been crying tears of gratitude, clinging to me as if I were her last hope, suddenly turned on me. Her face twisted with venom as she pointed at me and screamed, “Honey, I told you! She’s been trying to get rid of me so she can have you all to herself!” I froze, unable to process her words. “She’s jealous!” she shrieked. “She’s always hated me! I only set a tiny trap, and she couldn’t wait to send me away. You see, darling? You see how cruel she is?” Then she turned to me, her eyes blazing with hatred. “How could I have raised such a disgusting little wretch like you?” she spat. My world fell apart in that moment. I was dragged to the basement, where I became my mom’s replacement. For months, they tortured me. My dad’s cruelty was expected, but my mom? She stood by his side, watching with a smug smile as he tore me apart, her hand resting lovingly on his arm. They whispered sweet nothings to each other, their romance blossoming as I screamed for mercy. In the end, I couldn’t take it anymore. I threw myself against the concrete wall until everything went black. When I opened my eyes, I was back in my room. I recognized the date instantly. It was the day my mom first begged me to save her.

“Eat it.” My dad kicked a plate of maggot-infested meat toward my mom. He stood there, pristine in his tailored suit and polished leather shoes, his hair neatly combed. Everything about him screamed elegance—everything except the blood-stained, damp basement that reeked of iron and rot. In stark contrast, my mom sat huddled in the corner, chained like a dog. She wore a tattered red dress, her thin, gaunt face lifted toward him, eyes wide with fear. “Luke, I… I’m not hungry,” she stammered, her voice trembling. Luke narrowed his eyes, his tone chilling. “Are you defying me, Anna?” Anna bit her lip, her gaze darting to me as I stood silently in the doorway. The same pleading look I’d seen a hundred times before—the one that always tore me apart. “Lila…” she whispered, her voice breaking. In my last life, I’d fallen for that look. Every single time. She never begged outright. She never asked me to intervene. Instead, she’d put on a mask of despair, murmuring things like, “Lila, don’t worry about me. As long as you’re safe, I can endure anything. It’s just a few bugs—it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Then, she’d reach for the plate, her hand trembling as if summoning every ounce of willpower to make the sacrifice. But before she could touch it, she’d start retching, tears streaming down her face as she gagged and sobbed. And every time, I’d break. My heart would twist with guilt, as though her suffering was my fault. And like the fool I was, I’d always fight for her. In my last life, on this very night, I’d snatched that plate of rancid meat from her and made her a bowl of noodles instead. Luke hadn’t said a word. He’d simply turned and walked away, his cold indifference like a knife to my chest. The next day, Anna was allowed out of the basement. She wore an apron and greeted me with a radiant smile as she served me a plate of braised ribs. “Lila, I made this just for you. Try it!” I’d eaten every bite, beaming at her, grateful for even the smallest sign of normalcy. For a moment, sitting at the dining table with both my parents, I’d allowed myself to hope—maybe, just maybe, we could be a real family. But then, Anna covered her mouth, giggling as she leaned into Luke’s chest. Her smile was wide and triumphant, her voice dripping with amusement. “Of course it’s delicious,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. “You’ve been taking care of that dog for a whole year. Its meat is so tender!” Her laughter was like the chime of a bell, each note slicing into me like a blade. I stared at her, frozen in disbelief. She swayed her hips as she left the dining room, returning moments later with a blood-stained pelt—a dog’s pelt. It was perfectly skinned, the features intact, almost lifelike. “Luke’s knife skills are impeccable,” she said, holding up the pelt for him to admire. “Look at this! It’s almost like it’s still alive!” The hollow eyes of my dog, the same one that had been wagging its tail at my feet just the day before, stared back at me. I clutched my stomach and ran to the sink, vomiting until there was nothing left. Luke finally glanced at me, his expression cold and mocking. “Lila,” he said flatly, “kindness without strength always comes with a cost.” Anna, emboldened by his words, chimed in. “She’s right, Luke. She ate so much of it—clearly, she enjoyed it. Why pretend to be disgusted now? Such a hypocrite.” The feel of soft fur against my leg jolted me from the memory. I looked down to see my dog, Scout, wagging his tail and nuzzling against me. I scooped him up, holding him close as I looked at Anna. She was already putting on her usual act, her eyes brimming with tears. “Mom,” I said, my voice cold as ice, “Dad works so hard every day. The least you could do is eat what he gives you without being so dramatic.” Luke’s expression shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing in approval. But Anna froze, her face twisting in shock. She hadn’t expected this. Not this time. Her lips quivered as she forced herself to look pitiful, her voice trembling. “Lila, you’re my only daughter. I’d do anything for you! If you want me to eat it, I’ll eat it.” She picked up a piece of the rotting meat, bringing it to her nose. The stench made her gag, and she hesitated, her fingers trembling. She wasn’t eating. She was waiting—waiting for me to crack, for me to snatch the plate away and protect her like I always did. But this wasn’t my first life. I’d seen this too many times before. Her fake tears, her empty promises of love. I’d tasted the maggot-infested meat myself, forcing it down my throat while she stood by, pretending to care. This time, I simply stroked Scout’s fur and looked away. Luke’s patience finally snapped. He grabbed Anna by the hair and shoved the meat into her mouth, piece by piece. She choked and gagged, tears streaming down her face as bits of meat and maggots spilled onto her clothes and crawled over her skin. Her face twisted in agony, but Luke’s expression was one of satisfaction, almost ecstasy. He gently brushed the crumbs from her shoulders, his voice soft and loving. “Anna, I love you. I’d never treat anyone else like this. This… this is how you know you’re special to me.” Anna’s tear-filled eyes glowed with a disturbing intensity, her lips curving into a trembling smile. It hit me then. She liked it. She wanted it. They deserved each other.

I never met my mother. Not really. Growing up, whenever I dared to ask about her, the housekeepers would shuffle nervously, muttering vague excuses before quickly changing the subject. It wasn’t until I was seven years old that I learned the truth. I wandered into the basement by accident one day and saw her. She was chained to the wall, a rusted dog collar wrapped around her neck like a noose. Her red dress was torn and filthy, clinging to her skeletal frame. Her skin was ghostly pale, the kind of sickly white that comes from years without sunlight. The air reeked of mildew, blood, and something worse—something rotting. She sat slumped against the wall, combing her brittle, thinning hair with a broken comb. Her bony fingers moved mechanically, and every now and then, she’d hum a tune or let out a soft, eerie laugh. Her hollow cheeks and sunken eyes made her look like a corpse, but even then, I could see it—the faint resemblance between us. That’s when she noticed me. A little girl clutching a doll, chubby and wide-eyed. “Are you… Lila?” she croaked, her voice raspy and strained. Before I could answer, she lunged at me. Her bony hands grabbed my arm, her grip so tight it left five bloody scratches. “You’ve grown so much,” she whispered, her face inches from mine. “I’m your mother, Lila. I’m your mother!” I froze, too scared to move, but then her eyes dropped to my bare feet. Her expression twisted into something monstrous. “You walk around like that in front of your father?” she screamed, her voice shrill and hysterical. “You little whore! You think you can seduce him, don’t you?” Before I could react, her hand shot out and struck me across the face. I was sick with a fever for a month after that. The next time I saw her, Luke—my father—had brought her to my bedside. She stood by my bed, her posture stiff and submissive. Her trembling fingers brushed my hair as she leaned down to whisper, “Lila, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have hit you. Can you forgive me?” Her apology felt hollow, her voice shaking with every word. She kept glancing at Luke like a frightened animal, her whole body trembling whenever his shadow crossed hers. I forgave her, of course. I was desperate for a mother. I’d longed for her my entire life. From then on, I shielded her from everything. When Luke whipped her, I threw myself over her body, letting the lashes tear into my back instead. When he drained her blood, I held the knife myself, matching each cut on her skin with one on my own. When he forced her to eat rotting meat, I swallowed bite after bite until I was retching and sobbing, just to spare her the pain. Eventually, Luke’s affection for me faded completely. “You’re just like her,” he said one day, his cold, sharp eyes boring into mine. “Stupid and weak. It’s in your blood, Lila. You inherited her pitiful, filthy nature.” From that moment on, he stopped trying to mold me into his perfect heir. No more lessons in etiquette or business. No more late nights learning foreign languages or memorizing the weaknesses of his corporate rivals. When Anna heard, she was overjoyed. “Finally, he’s letting you off the hook!” she said, her laughter bubbling like champagne. “Girls don’t need to learn all that nonsense. What, does he think you’re going to inherit the company? How ridiculous. “Your job is to grow up pretty and happy. Find a good man to marry. That’s all that matters. Come, let me teach you how to make men adore you…” I sat there, confused, her words gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. She’s my mom, I told myself. She wouldn’t hurt me. Would she? When I turned eighteen, I was accepted into a university overseas. That summer, Luke left town for a business meeting. The moment he drove off, I ran to the basement, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. “Mom,” I whispered, fumbling with the lock on her chain. “We’re leaving. I’m getting you out of here.” The collar fell away, clattering to the floor. For the first time in eighteen years, she was free. “Dad’s gone,” I told her, my voice shaking with excitement. “I already bought tickets. We’re flying to a new city. I’ll go to school, and I’ll take care of you. I’ll fix this, Mom. I’ll fix everything.” Anna blinked at me, her eyes flicking to the chain on the floor. Slowly, a smile spread across her face. “Okay, Lila,” she said, her voice bright and cheerful. “Let’s go.” The plane was in the air when I finally allowed myself to breathe. It was over. We were free. I turned to share my relief with her, but she was staring at me, her expression unreadable. And then she smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile. The intercom crackled. “Attention passengers, this flight will be making an emergency return to the airport. We apologize for the inconvenience.” My stomach dropped. Ten minutes later, the plane landed. The other passengers were ushered off, leaving just me and Anna. Luke was waiting for us at the gate. Anna ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed, “Luke! You stopped a plane for me! You love me that much…” She looked like she might faint from the joy of it all. For her, it was a grand romantic gesture, proof that no one could ever come between them. She turned to me, her expression hardening. “She forced me,” Anna said, her voice trembling. “She wanted to send me away so she could have you all to herself. She’s jealous, Luke. She’s always been jealous of us.” I was dragged back to the basement, my neck chained to the wall where hers had been. Luke tilted my chin up with his foot, sneering. “You’re useless,” he said. “Just like her. But at least she’s entertaining. You? You’re nothing.” He turned to Anna, his voice softening. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve adopted a son. He’ll take over the company someday. You don’t have to think about her anymore.” From that day on, I became Anna. She thrived. The life of a wealthy socialite brought color back to her cheeks. She draped herself in diamonds and pearls, smiling down at me like a queen visiting her subjects. “Lila,” she said one day, letting a box of pastries fall to the floor. “Luke only does this because he loves you. You should be grateful. No man will ever love you as much as he does.” When Luke demanded my blood, she wielded the knife. When he forced me to eat rotting meat, she shoved it down my throat. When he set his wolfdog on me, she handed me a knife and told me to fight. She laughed as I bled, her voice as bright and clear as a bell. “She’s more dog than the dog itself!” she said, grinning at Luke. The night I killed myself, she cried. “Lila,” she sobbed, clutching my lifeless body. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me alone with him. I need you…” But I was already gone.

It took a death for me to see things clearly. In my past life, I thought saving Anna—dragging her onto that plane bound for a new city—was the right thing to do. I was so wrong. How could I have been so delusional? How could I have believed she wanted saving? Anna and my father were a match made in hell. Luke was right about one thing: kindness without strength always comes at a cost. Looking into Anna’s hollow eyes, watching her revel in the torment she claimed to hate, I felt nothing. No pity. No anger. Just a cold, detached clarity. Without a word, I turned and walked away. When I was reborn, I knew exactly what I needed to do. This time, I wouldn’t waste my energy trying to fix what couldn’t be fixed. I resigned as student council president, stepped down as class leader, quit all my extracurriculars, and declined every invitation to events or parties. I poured every ounce of my time and focus into my studies. Because I knew what was coming. Soon, my father’s company would welcome a new rising star—a man as sharp, ruthless, and cunning as a younger version of Luke himself. His name was Jason King. In my past life, by the time I died, Jason had already climbed the ranks to the boardroom. He wasn’t just a rising star—he was a force, someone my father trusted to make major decisions for the company. I remembered the night Jason was promoted. Luke brought him home to celebrate. They stood at the top of the basement stairs, dressed impeccably in tailored suits, red wine swirling in their glasses. From where I was chained below, I could see the faint smirk on Jason’s face, the glint of amusement in Luke’s eyes as they both glanced at me. “Mr. White, such… refined tastes,” Jason had said, his tone polite but laced with mockery. Luke chuckled, pleased by the compliment, but Jason’s gaze never left me. After Luke left the room, Jason came down the stairs. He handed me a sandwich, his expression soft with pity. “Poor girl,” he murmured, his voice almost kind. Starved and desperate, I devoured the sandwich without hesitation. And then I felt it—the sharp, cold edge of a razor blade slicing through my throat. I choked, blood gushing from my mouth as I clawed at my neck. Jason crouched down, dipping his fingers into the pool of blood spilling onto the floor. He brought them to his lips, licking the crimson from his fingertips, his eyes shining with a sick, twisted excitement. He was just like Luke. In this life, I knew what I had to do. The day before my final exams, I returned home. I made a calculated choice to gain Luke’s favor. I prepared a dish—one I remembered from my past life—a delicacy meant for Anna. When I brought the dish to him, Luke looked at me with something I hadn’t seen in years: approval. For the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. “Lila,” he said, his voice warm. “You’re finally starting to remind me of myself.” I lowered my eyes, smiling sweetly. “Of course, Father. I am your daughter, after all.” The dish was called “Three Squeaks.” When I opened the container, the tiny pink baby mice inside squirmed and squeaked loudly, their little bodies writhing as they tried to escape. Anna gasped, her face pale with horror. I turned to her, my smile bright and cheerful as I gently patted her cheek. “Mom,” I said, my voice soft and sweet. “I made this just for you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295432”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #魔幻Magic #重生Reborn

After the breakup, I immediately quit my job. Just as I was preparing to leave the country to start a new chapter, my ex-girlfriend Miranda Barrett, who also happened to be my former boss, suddenly appeared at the airport, trying to win me back. She told me that she had fired her assistant, Flint Ricardo, and from now on, she was offering me the position of her second-in-command at the company. However, just as I was about to abandon my plans to go abroad and return with her, she yanked her hand out of mine and, with a coquettish tone, called Flint. “Flint, you won the bet. This idiot really thought I was trying to keep him.” With a mocking laugh, she turned to me and added coldly, “It was just a joke, didn’t you get it? If you’re leaving, just go. No one’s stopping you this time.” The colleagues around us sneered, mocking me for being a lovesick fool, obediently turning around just because she waved her hand. But they didn’t know that the only reason I’d given up on going abroad was because my new company had just completed an acquisition, and I was about to become the new CEO there.

When Miranda smugly told me that her attempt to keep me was just a joke, I wasn’t angry. I simply took out my phone, ready to order a ride back to my place. The colleagues around us looked at me with mocking eyes, one of them sneering, “Anthony, Ms. Barrett already said she doesn’t want you to stay. What are you still waiting for? Go ahead and book your flight!” “You said you had an overseas offer, didn’t you? What now? Did they change their mind and reject you?” Miranda stood there, indulging their sarcastic remarks, not even trying to stop them. This kind of humiliating workplace bullying had been a constant presence in my life for years. In the past, I would have rebutted them, feeling wronged. After all, my girlfriend was the CEO, and yet she never stood up for me. But now, I felt nothing. To me, they were nothing but a bunch of clowns. “Don’t you think my affairs are none of your business?” I said, my tone flat. Miranda snorted dismissively and looked me up and down, her eyes full of disdain. “Still being stubborn? “With your abilities, if I hadn’t supported you all these years, you probably wouldn’t even have a job. “Want to go abroad? What a joke.” I was a graduate of a prestigious school. I’d given up a high-paying job that many would dream of and built the company from the ground up with Miranda. But in Miranda’s eyes, I was worthless, and it was only thanks to her help that I had come this far. I felt it was ridiculous. There was a time when I loved Miranda to the point of obsession. Even when I was stuck in a managerial position after working for decades, I never complained. But when she began giving my projects to her new assistant, Flint, and even dumped his messes on me to make me take the fall, cutting my pay and suspending me while promoting Flint, I finally realized that I had to end the love I was keeping alive single-handedly. So, I resigned on the spot, broke up with her, and decided to pursue my career abroad. I never expected that after all this, she would come to me with this “joke” when I was about to board the plane. At that moment, I wasn’t even sad, just perplexed. I couldn’t help but wonder, “How stupid have I been to fall for such a woman?” I shook my head, too tired to argue with her. “You’re right, I’ll leave now,” I said. I tried to walk away, but Miranda suddenly grabbed my arm and stared at me, a look of disgust on her face. “You’re quite a drama king! You’ve been caught in your own lie, and you’re still pretending? “I’ll give you a way out, just for the sake of our past. “I can accept you, and I’ll make you Flint’s assistant.” Seeing her so “generously” extend this offer, I finally understood Miranda’s true motive behind this “joke”. On the surface, it was about a bet with Flint, seeing if I would take the bait and step down. But in reality, she just wanted me to stay in the company and keep serving her and Flint like a lackey. I had to admit that Miranda was quite thorough in planning Flint’s career. She was setting him up for promotions and raises, even planning to send talented people to assist him. I helped her realize her dream of becoming a boss. And yet, she took everything from me without hesitation, solely to pave the way for Flint. I sneered, “Flint isn’t qualified for me to help him.” Miranda’s expression immediately darkened. “Anthony, it looks like I’ve spoiled you too much over the years for you to think so highly of yourself…” Before she could finish, a figure appeared in the distance. “Miranda!” Miranda’s expression immediately softened, and she walked to meet the person. “Flint!” Flint was the only person in the company who didn’t call Miranda “Ms. Barrett” but instead addressed her by her first name. Even though I was officially Miranda’s boyfriend, I didn’t have that privilege. Flint glanced at me, then smiled at Miranda. “See? I knew Anthony’s excuse for going abroad was just a cover. He won’t leave.” Miranda shot me a disdainful glance and said, “Some people think too highly of themselves as if the company couldn’t function without them! “He’s nothing like you, Flint. You’re both capable and humble. Anthony, since you didn’t seize the opportunity, forget it. “Let’s go.” Flint, however, grabbed Miranda’s hand, looking pitiful. “Miranda, we can’t leave yet. Since Anthony resigned, my watch has gone missing. “It was a family heirloom from my grandmother.” Then, he looked at me with pleading eyes. “Anthony, please just return it to me.” Before I could understand what was happening, Miranda glared at me angrily. “Anthony, you stole from him?!” I was about to deny it when Miranda cut me off coldly. “Don’t try to deny it. Do you think Flint would falsely accuse you? “You don’t even have a job now. Who knows if you will steal something to make money?” She then ordered a couple of others, “Open his suitcase and check it!” I stared at Miranda in disbelief. We had spent ten years together. I thought she knew me better than anyone. But just because of an unfounded accusation from Flint, she was about to open my luggage in public. Earlier, I had let her make cruel jokes without arguing with him. But now, this nearly bullying behavior was the last straw, igniting a blaze of fury within me. I felt no more disappointment or heartbreak. I felt just anger and disgust. “Stop!” I shouted, my voice trembling with fury. Flint feigned surprise. “Why are you so upset, Anthony? Could it be that you really took it?” Miranda gave me an even more disgusted look and gestured to two others to restrain me, her voice cold. “Don’t mind him. Keep searching.” As my suitcase was overturned and my personal items scattered across the floor, I reached my breaking point and shouted for airport security. Only then did they stop. “We didn’t find anything.” Flint said with a disappointed sigh, “Forget it. Let’s not make things harder on Anthony. He’s had a tough time, too.” But Miranda shot me one last hateful look. “I bet he sold it after stealing it.” Then, turning back to Flint, she softened her tone. “It’s okay, Flint. I’ll go with you to buy a new one.” As they walked away, Miranda gave me one final, icy glare. “Anthony, when you’re out on the streets someday, don’t come crawling to me.” With that, she then walked off with the group, and Flint shot one last provocative glance at me. I didn’t say a word. I just chuckled coldly to myself. What they didn’t know was that the company’s project had collapsed and was about to be acquired. And my decision to stay wasn’t because of her. It was because my new company had just appointed me as their new CEO.

My new company was headquartered overseas. It was a well-known multinational corporation. When I was about to graduate, I received an invitation from them, thanks to my outstanding grades. But Miranda persuaded me to stay and help her build her business, so I turned down the offer. After I broke up with Miranda and quit my job, the company called me right away, inviting me to join them. However, just before I was about to board the plane, I got a call. Their subsidiary had decided to acquire the company here and integrate resources. Miranda’s company was also on their acquisition list. They offered me the position of the new CEO. After dropping off my luggage at home, I arranged to meet Wilfred Frazier, the domestic head of my new company. I arrived early at the restaurant to wait for him, but to my surprise, I saw Miranda and Flint there, chatting and laughing. When Miranda saw me, she froze for a moment. She walked over with an impatient look on her face and said, “Anthony, why are you following me like a shadow? “You were so tough earlier. What, have you changed your mind?” Before I could respond, Flint, standing nearby, smiled and said, “Miranda, there were so many people earlier. Anthony must have refused because he didn’t want to lose face. “How about this? Anthony, if you apologize to Miranda properly, I’m sure she’d still be willing to give you a chance. “Right, Miranda?” Miranda looked me up and down with disdain, then pretended to hesitate. “Well, since Flint spoke up for you, I suppose it’s not impossible. If you drink this bottle of wine, I might consider letting you be an assistant.” She pointed to a bottle of wine on the table. I felt it was ridiculous. Miranda knew very well that I had stomach issues and couldn’t drink, yet she still set this condition. She was clearly trying to put me in my place, waiting for me to grovel. But she clearly hadn’t realized the situation yet. “You’re overthinking it. I’m waiting for someone,” I said. “Waiting for someone? Ha, you just couldn’t admit your loss, right?” Miranda scoffed. “I’ve known you for so many years. Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on in your head. “You just think being Flint’s assistant is beneath you, right? “But in your situation, you’d better just abandon your pride.” As she was speaking, Wilfred, the person I had arranged to meet, walked in. He extended his hand to shake mine. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Schultz.” I simply ignored Miranda and smiled as I shook Wilfred’s hand. “Wilfred, let’s go inside and talk. It’s too noisy out here.” “Of course, let’s go.” Miranda stood there, staring at me in disbelief. As I was about to walk into the private room with Wilfred, I overheard Flint say to Miranda in a voice loud enough for me to hear, “Looks like Anthony has a headhunter lined up to help him find a job.” The next moment, Miranda suddenly walked over and blocked my path. She sneered, “Anthony, you really think you’ve got what it takes now, don’t you? You’d rather find a job yourself than beg me for one? “But I want to remind you. Based on your past performance at work, I have already informed everyone in our industry within Nexalis State. No one is willing to hire you. “Are you regretting it now?” She gave me a half-smile, waiting for me to go back to my old job. However, I would make her down. After all, Miranda wasn’t even close to being capable enough to pose a threat to me. What she didn’t realize was that, after I resigned and Frank took charge of all the major projects, the company had been facing substantial risks, to the point of being on the brink of bankruptcy. I responded coolly, “Miranda, being confident is a good thing. I just hope you’ll still feel this confident when your company is acquired during the bankruptcy process.” “Anthony, you…” Miranda was so furious that she almost shouted at me, but she held it back and turned to look at Wilfred. She pulled out a business card and handed it to Wilfred with an air of arrogance. “I’m Miranda Barrett, the CEO of the Barrett Group. Anthony was one of my employees, but his conduct was subpar, and he’s just been fired. “I suggest your company think carefully before hiring him.” After saying that, she shot me a glance, then linked arms with Flint and walked off, her attitude as haughty as ever. Wilfred frowned, holding the business card and looking at me. “This…” “Just a clown,” I said with a slight smile. Wilfred casually tossed the card into the trash. Once we were seated in the private room, we discussed the acquisition of Miranda’s company. We decide to take advantage of the fallout from the Barrett Group’s failing projects and buy them out at a low price. Wilfred then pulled out a list of employees from the original company and asked me to help optimize it. I knew everyone on the list, how each person performed, and their behavior inside the company. I agreed to provide a solution as soon as possible. After the meeting, I went home. But as soon as I entered, I found Miranda sitting on my couch. She was sitting with her legs crossed, staring at me coldly. I frowned and asked, “What are you doing here?”

I glanced at the door and suddenly remembered that after the breakup, I had forgotten to delete her fingerprint access. Miranda didn’t answer immediately. She coldly asked, “Who told you about my company’s bankruptcy and acquisition?” I was busy taking off my coat and didn’t bother to respond. Miranda’s face darkened even further. “As you wished, the company did indeed go bankrupt.” I raised an eyebrow, surprised by how quickly Wilfred had acted. We had just discussed this over lunch, and by the afternoon, it was already done. Miranda continued, “Anthony, I don’t know how you found out about this so early, but don’t get too excited. “The company that acquired us is a big corporation. They will help me sort out the issues with the previous projects. “I’m still the head of the company.” I made myself a cup of coffee, not surprised by this news. I knew it well. This was because my optimization list hadn’t been finalized yet, so they had temporarily kept the original team in place. “So what?” I asked calmly. Miranda stared at me intently. “I want you to hand over your previous client resources to Flint, and I’ll arrange a manager position for you at the new company. “You should know, with the backing of the parent company, the Barrett Group will only get stronger from here. “I’m offering you your old manager role. This is a pretty generous offer.” I suddenly smiled. She was acting so self-assured as if she were offering me a huge favor. But I knew full well that after the acquisition, Wilfred would release the development documents, and one of the terms stated that after I took the new role, positions would be assigned based on merit. Miranda’s request was nothing more than to use my client resources to help Flint prove his capabilities, solidifying his position as vice president. I could tell that she was deeply in love with Flint. But sadly, she had bet on the wrong person. “Miranda, you’re quite naïve,” I said. At my words, Miranda’s face darkened instantly. She stood up abruptly and walked toward me, her eyes narrowing as she sized me up. “Anthony, I know you’re jealous of Flint,” she said, her voice colder than before. “You feel wronged, thinking I’ve changed while I’m treating him so much better than you. “But you need to understand, our roles have changed. I’m the boss now. I’m the capitalist. “And you? You’re just an employee. A man like you was never a match for me. “But Flint… Flint brings me excitement and the joy of being a woman. You can never compare to him.” Miranda looked deeply into my eyes, her voice soft and almost too kind. “I’ll give you one night. Think it over.” With that, she turned and walked away. I shook my head in helplessness. I quickly deleted her fingerprint from the system and opened my laptop, sending out the layoff list for the next day. The next morning, I officially started my new job at the company. When I walked into the office, my colleagues were gossiping about the company’s acquisition. Miranda was, as usual, trying to paint a rosy picture for everyone. She assured them that she was still part of the management and that if everyone worked hard, things would remain the same as before. When she saw me, her eyes briefly lit up. She walked up to me with a smug tone, as if she had expected me to come. “Have you thought it over? Are you willing to hand over the client list to Flint?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head. Miranda’s expression darkened, and just as she was about to speak, Flint interjected with a smile, “Anthony, why are you doing this to yourself? “If you weren’t planning on handing over the client information, then what are you even here for? “You’re not going to tell me you came to work, are you?” His words made the others burst into laughter. I raised an eyebrow and nodded. “I did come to work.” At that, the colleagues watching couldn’t hold back their laughter. “Work? He’s probably here looking for a job, thinking that just because the company was acquired, he can sneak in.” “Isn’t that a pipe dream?” “Anthony, weren’t you supposed to go abroad? Why are you back here applying for a job?” Before I could respond, Miranda’s face grew even darker, and she snapped at me, “Anthony, are you done yet? “I’ve already given you a chance by asking you to hand over the client information. Are you really this stubborn? “Didn’t you hear me yesterday? Are you happy being unemployed?” I shook my head helplessly. “Miranda, the one who’s about to be unemployed is you. Maybe you should start planning ahead.” Miranda stared at me, then suddenly scoffed, “Look at this. Are you out of your mind? How dare you say that? “What? I am the boss of this company. Do you think you can fire me? “Anthony, do you believe that as long as I’m here, you couldn’t even land a job as a janitor…?” Just as her words hung in the air, two figures appeared at the entrance of the company. They were the people Wilfred had sent to help me restructure the company. Miranda recognized them, and her face changed instantly. She hurried to greet them with a smile. “Mr. Fowler, you’re here! I wasn’t aware our new CEO had arrived. Let me go greet him.” Hurst Fowler glanced at her briefly but said nothing. He walked straight up to me and nodded respectfully. He then addressed the group, “This is our new CEO, Mr. Schultz!” In an instant, Miranda’s smile froze on her face, and she asked, trying to cover her surprise, “Mr. Fowler, you’re not joking, are you? Anthony is a good-for-nothing. How could you…” Before she could finish, Hurst pulled out the layoff list I had prepared yesterday and threw it in her face. Pointing at her and Flint, he said coldly, “You two are fired. Pack up and leave, now!”

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As the true heiress, after being found, I joined a dating reality show with my adopted sister. Facing the mean girl’s taunts, the celebrity’s aggression, and the production team’s schemes, I raised an eyebrow: “You got breast implants, you visited a proctologist, and you bought a house for your mistress.” They were shocked, covering their chests, buttocks, and the scratches left by their wives, trying to figure out who among them had leaked the information. I smiled mysteriously. Who told them I had the strange ability to see other people’s bills? I was hauling bricks at a construction site when my biological parents found me. Years ago, Mrs. Skyler gave birth to me in a small hospital, but due to a nurse’s negligence, I was switched with another baby. Now, they had finally tracked me down. As expected of a wealthy family, their mansion was straight out of a novel – complete with fountains and manicured lawns. I had barely sat down in the living room when a stern-faced woman rushed down the stairs. “That’s an imported sofa from Europe! Our young miss loves it! Who let this beggar in? You’re dirtying the fabric! Get up immediately!” She roughly yanked my arm, nearly causing me to stumble. Before I could regain my balance, another woman with a distinctly different aura hurried in. Her eyes welled up at the sight of me. She rushed over and embraced me. “My child, you’ve suffered so much all these years!” I rubbed my nose awkwardly. “It wasn’t that bad…” Just then, a stern-looking middle-aged man and a delicate young woman burst through the door. All three of them stared at me with a mix of awkwardness and uncertainty. My mother pulled the delicate girl closer, stammering, “Why don’t we let Ava stay with you? So you won’t be lonely.” Their decision to keep the adopted daughter didn’t surprise me. One was the girl they had raised since infancy, the other a biological daughter they barely knew. I had no reservations and spoke frankly, “Dad, Mom, Sister.” Their faces immediately lit up with joy. Ava, in particular, stood behind me beaming, like a loyal sidekick. “But who is this?” I asked, glancing at the stern-faced woman. She instantly changed her haughty demeanor, her smile now sickeningly sweet. “Miss Skyler, I’m Mrs. Johnson, the Skyler family’s housekeeper…” “Housekeeper?” I linked arms with my mother. “Mom, I doubt Mrs. Johnson could afford jewelry worth millions, right?” The housekeeper’s expression faltered. “Mom, I recently saw Mrs. Johnson at a secondhand store, selling a diamond necklace.” My mother paused, eyeing the housekeeper suspiciously. Mrs. Johnson’s face paled, and she broke into a cold sweat. “Miss Skyler, you can’t make such baseless accusations! I’ve never been to any secondhand store you’re talking about.” Her visit to the secondhand store might be a fabrication, but her theft of the Skyler family’s belongings was undoubtedly true. Because after my reincarnation into this story, I gained a strange ability – I could sense the details of everyone’s financial transactions. This Mrs. Johnson had been stealing and selling my mother’s possessions quite frequently! “Alright. To prove I’m not slandering Mrs. Johnson, Mom, why don’t you have someone check your jewelry collection?” I described the necklace in detail. Mrs. Johnson panicked. “Why should there be an investigation? I didn’t steal anything!” A guilty conscience needs no accuser! My mother immediately sent someone to check, and Mrs. Johnson collapsed to the floor. My new sister quietly sidled up to me, tugging at my sleeve. “Sister, you’re… you’re so impressive!” Ava gazed at me with admiration. I was taken aback. Was she won over so easily? Looking at her soft and innocent demeanor, it was no wonder she was the cannon fodder character in the novel who couldn’t stand up to the villainess protagonist. Yes, as the reincarnated true heiress in this story, neither I nor Ava, who had the potential to be the protagonist, were the actual main characters. The real protagonist was Mia Duncan, who climbed the entertainment industry ladder by stepping on Ava. Mia debuted by marketing herself as the “little Ava Skyler,” riding on the coattails of Ava’s popularity while secretly sabotaging her. They both signed up for a dating reality show. During filming, Ava was framed for assaulting a pregnant woman, causing her reputation to plummet and her career to nosedive. Meanwhile, Mia was praised as “beautiful and kind-hearted,” gaining even more popularity by contrasting herself with Ava. From Mia’s perspective, the story was quite satisfying. But I had reincarnated as Ava’s convenient sister. As a reincarnator, I knew the truth – that pregnant woman was hired by Mia with the sole purpose of destroying Ava’s career. Even if Ava was just my adopted sister, she was still part of the Skyler family. How could I let an outsider bully her? Besides, Ava was beautiful and sweet, always trying to please me in subtle ways. Looking at her face that perfectly matched my aesthetic preferences… Well, I simply couldn’t bear to see her reputation ruined. So, when my father asked if I wanted to take over Skyler Corporation, I noticed Ava holding the “Fall in Love, Stars!” show contract and expressed my desire to join the show with her. Ava’s eyes lit up. “Dad! Please!” The innocent girl unleashed her puppy eyes on our father. “If I go on the show with my sister, won’t you feel more at ease?” I had a private conversation with my father, revealing the name of my private equity fund. My father immediately agreed to not only hand over the company to me but also arrange for me and Ava to join the show. The show began live streaming from a villa, with all participants present. I sneaked a glance at my phone, seeing a wave of attacks against Ava in the comments: “Unbelievable, how could the production team invite someone as fake and pretentious as Ava Skyler on the same show as our Mia?” “She’s just riding on Mia’s popularity again. Can’t this old hag stand on her own?” “Exactly! She’s rude and unprofessional, and she still has the nerve to join a dating show? Get off our screens!” Mia, true to her protagonist status, caused another wave of excitement when she appeared. “Ahhh! My wife is so beautiful!” “Oh my god, Mia really has an angel’s face and a devil’s body!” “I’m melting!” The show’s opening and self-introduction segment maintained a facade of peace. When it came to the mutual questioning session, Mia started targeting Ava with seemingly harmless concern, “Ava, have you been watching any TV shows lately? I heard you’ve been resting at home, so you must have a lot of free time.” Well, that was a backhanded way of saying Ava could only stay at home because she couldn’t find work. Ava’s expression changed, and she was about to speak when I stopped her: “Actually, Ava hasn’t had time to watch anything. She’s been busy accompanying our mother on beauty spa trips and attending auctions. No time for trashy dramas.” Mia was stunned for a moment but quickly regained her composure and continued questioning Ava: “So, Ava, did you buy anything nice at the auction that you’d like to share with us?” Her eyes gleamed mischievously: “Just be careful not to accidentally buy fakes. Things are like people – fake is fake, real is real. Only fools mistake fakes for the real deal!” This was clearly an insinuation. Mia obviously knew something, like the truth about Ava’s and my background. But my parents hadn’t publicly announced that Ava wasn’t their biological daughter. How did Mia know? I looked Mia up and down. She didn’t seem nervous at all, even flashing me a meaningful smile. Ava panicked a bit, grabbing my hand and whispering in my ear, “Sister, what should we do? Does she know?” I patted Ava’s hand, signaling her to stay calm. Ava immediately straightened up, looking at me with complete trust. I put on a sincere smile and turned to Mia, “Well, Miss Duncan, your McGrath is quite real.” “Sometimes fake can be real too, it all depends on what people say, right?” Like Ava, and like… Mia’s chest. The comments froze for a moment. “What’s this woman saying? I feel like she’s hinting at something I don’t understand?” “What’s McGrath? Why does Mia look uncomfortable?” “Ahem, if I’m not mistaken, that’s a… breast implant brand, you know what I mean.” “Wait, didn’t she endorse some breast enhancement oil? So it’s all smoke and mirrors?” Mia choked on her water, coughing violently. Jake Thompson, a popular male contestant, rushed forward to pat her back concernedly, “Mia, are you okay?” He almost couldn’t resist covering his own chest as he looked at me. Ryan Evans, the award-winning actor, snapped out of his daze, knowingly glancing at Mia’s… chest. Liam Moore, the lead singer, put away his bored expression and cast an understanding look at Mia’s chest. Mia coughed while covering her chest. Her eyes showed a hint of shock and suspicion as she struggled to defend herself: “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss Skyler. It seems you have some hostility towards me.” She lowered her eyelashes, on the verge of tears. “If I’ve done something to offend you, I apologize here. But please don’t make unfounded accusations against me, okay?” Look at that, she’s trying to manipulate public opinion and incite her fans to cyberbully me! I chuckled softly, “Miss Duncan, weren’t you the one who brought up real and fake first? Why don’t you explain to your fans whether your McGrath is real or fake?”

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It all started when I had a few extra bites of the cake made by the housekeeper. My mother suddenly snapped and ruined my birthday party. “Just like your father. Can’t resist a little indulgence. “You like her, huh? Well, let her be your mother then. “I don’t want you anymore.” I was left speechless, terrified, crying as I begged her to forgive me, but in a fit of rage, she pushed me. I hit my head on the edge of the table, blood pouring out. In my dazed state, I heard her thoughts. “You’ll regret this. Just wait. Anyone who throws away my love deserves to suffer. That heartless man and his brat of a daughter… they must be regretting everything now.” She felt smug, her heart filled with satisfaction, but not a trace of concern or love for me. But if she truly loved someone, how could she bear to let them get hurt? “You like cake, don’t you? Well, have all you want.” When Mom suddenly grabbed an entire piece of cake and slammed it into my face, the once-boisterous living room fell dead silent. Her sharp voice cut through the stillness, hanging in the air like a blade. She wiped the cake off her fingers with a napkin, then shot a disgusted look at Maeve, our housekeeper. “Avery, you really are your father’s child. You two sure do have the same taste. “Well, since you like her so much, why don’t you just let her be your mother?” I glanced at my mom, then at Maeve’s worn-out face. At an age when I didn’t even fully understand what absurdity meant, I suddenly realized what it felt like without anyone telling me. It was all my fault and Dad’s. We always made Mom misunderstand us, and that was why she was so angry. “I’m sorry, Mom. I was wrong.” My voice faltered, and I lowered my head, trying to hide the tears welling up in my eyes. The cream on my face felt sticky and gross. I didn’t dare go wash it off or change clothes. I was too scared. If I made one wrong move, Mom might really leave. But my apology didn’t soften her at all. She looked at me coldly, her gaze sharp, like she was searching for something on my face. “Well? What exactly did you do wrong?” she demanded. I twisted the hem of my shirt in my hands, desperately trying to think back to what I had done to upset her, but nothing came to mind. Singing the birthday song, blowing out the candles, cutting the cake, eating the cake… wasn’t that just the usual birthday stuff? I hadn’t misbehaved. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I dug my nails into my palm in frustration, tears threatening to spill over. As I hesitated, unable to answer, Mom’s face darkened further. Finally, her patience snapped. She grabbed the cake from the table and hurled it to the floor, along with the gifts beside it. They crashed to the ground with a loud bang. “Your dad likes a woman like Maeve? He must be starving for attention. “When I cook, you two always pick at everything. “But when she makes cake, you can’t get enough, huh? “Fine, Avery, you get your wish. I don’t need you anymore. “From now on, you’ll have no mother.” Maeve stood there, frozen, her face pale with shock. She couldn’t understand how, after all her hard work, cooking and cleaning every day, she was now the one accused of breaking up the marriage. I was trembling with fear, too scared to care about the cream still smeared on me. I rushed over, throwing my arms around Mom’s legs. “Mom, I’m sorry! I won’t eat cake anymore. Please… don’t leave me.” My sobs only seemed to annoy her, and the sticky sweetness of the cream on my face made her even more disgusted. “My new dress!” She shoved me away, eyes burning as she looked at the white splatters of cream on her dress, her chest rising and falling with every breath. “Go find Maeve. I don’t want to be your mother anymore.” The force of her shove sent me stumbling, and with the floor covered in cake, I lost my balance and fell hard. My forehead hit the edge of the table with a sickening thud. For a moment, everything went blurry, and a warm liquid started to spill from my head. Before I passed out, all I saw was red. Whether it was blood or just the red of Mom’s dress, I couldn’t tell. “Mom, don’t go…” A cold fear gripped my heart, a desperate, bone-deep terror that Mom might actually leave me.

I woke up in a hospital bed. “Mom!” Panic surged through me as I frantically searched for her. My heart didn’t settle until I spotted her sitting in the corner of the room, casually scrolling through her phone. She was still here. Relief washed over me like a wave, though I couldn’t take my eyes off her, afraid she might vanish if I so much as blinked. Then my dad’s name popped up on her phone screen. Mom let out an annoyed huff and declined the call. But Dad didn’t give up. He called again and again. By the tenth attempt, Mom finally picked up, her voice sharp with irritation. “Clayton, stop calling me. I told you, I’m done. This time, I mean it. I want a divorce. “Go back to your little harem. Enjoy your life with them. “Don’t expect anyone to cook for you anymore. Don’t expect anyone to stay up all night waiting for you to come home. “Losing me is your problem, not mine.” A heavy silence followed. Dad didn’t say a word, but as I stared at Mom, I could almost hear her thoughts, like they were being broadcast straight into my head. “You’ll regret this. Just wait. Anyone who throws away my love deserves to suffer. That heartless man and his brat of a daughter… they must be regretting everything now.” Her tone in my head was full of smug satisfaction, even triumph, but not a shred of it sounded like love or concern for me. I didn’t understand. Why would she say things like that? What did I or Dad ever do to deserve this? I looked at her, my chest tightening with a sadness I couldn’t shake. I wasn’t heartless. I loved her and I always had. But that didn’t seem to matter. A crushing exhaustion settled over me, as if I was trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. Why had it come to this? Was it really because I couldn’t resist having a few extra pieces of cake that Maeve made? Tears blurred my vision and dripped onto the blanket, leaving dark, wet patches. “Beatrix.” Dad’s voice sounded tired, his frustration barely concealed. “Can’t we just talk this out like adults? Don’t take this out on Avery. She’s just a kid. “And honestly, you’ve got some nerve bringing up cooking. You nearly poisoned me with yours!” Before he could finish, Mom interrupted him with a cold laugh. “A kid? Please. She’s smarter than you think. I bet she already knows Maeve will be her stepmom one day. That’s why she’s bending over backward to cozy up to her. “But here’s the thing. Stepmothers don’t care about their stepdaughters. I’ll be waiting for the day you regret this.” She threw me a pointed look with those last words, her eyes brimming with something cruel. It was as if she couldn’t wait to see me suffer under Maeve’s care. “You’re unbelievable,” Dad said, his voice turning icy. Then the line went dead. “You’ll be begging me to come back one day,” Mom thought to herself, her anger morphing into a twisted kind of satisfaction. She sat there for a moment, stewing in the fantasy of Dad pleading for her return, before finally grabbing her bag and striding toward the door. “I’m not your mother anymore, so don’t expect me to take care of you,” she said, her tone indifferent. “Stay here and see if Maeve will come get you.” This time, I didn’t try to stop her. I curled into myself, clutching my knees, trying desperately to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. In my mind, I cried out in anguish, “Mom, you always said people who betray your love deserve to be punished. But if you really loved me, how could you stand to see me hurt?”

Maeve never showed up at the hospital to take care of me as she had quit. For someone hardworking and skilled like her, finding a new job wasn’t a problem. There was no reason for her to stay in a house full of drama and risk ruining her reputation. That day, I sat alone in the hospital from morning till night. I didn’t eat or drink, and I felt like I was drifting in and out of a fog. Eventually, one of the nurses took pity on me. She brought me a meal from the cafeteria and called my dad. When he found out Mom had abandoned me at the hospital, he rushed back overnight from out of town. The moment he walked into the room, I blurted out, “If I disappeared one day, do you think Mom would regret it?” I’d been staring at the hospital’s towering buildings all day, and a dark thought had crept into my mind. If I jumped from up there and disappeared forever, would she finally regret it? Would she cry and beg for me to come back, the way I’d begged her on my birthday? “No,” Dad said, his voice firm and unyielding, not even pausing to think. “Avery, people who love you would never want to see you hurt. “People who don’t love you wouldn’t care, no matter how much pain you’re in. “Hurting yourself to make someone feel guilty or regretful? That’s just a stupid game you play with yourself. It won’t get you love or respect. “If you don’t believe me, let’s bet on it.” Not long after, my parents’ divorce became official. Mom took the house and a sizable amount of money but didn’t want me. Her new place was just next door. Whenever I missed her, I’d sit outside her door, hoping to see her. If I got lucky, I’d catch her leaving or coming home. But she never spoke to me. No matter how much I tried to get her attention, she ignored me completely. Then one day, she brought home a little boy. I overheard her calling him Jasper. That was the first thing she said to me since the divorce. “Avery, this is my son, Jasper. “You’d better not bully him. Otherwise…” She didn’t finish her sentence and just gave me a cold, knowing look, as if she was certain I’d hurt him. A few days later, a good-looking man moved in with her. Mom had no problem kissing him right outside the door where everyone could see. Dad came home early a few times and caught them in the act. His face darkened as he tried to talk to her. “If you want to kiss, do it inside your house. Don’t do it in the hallway where the kids can see.” Mom didn’t take him seriously. She just smirked, clearly enjoying herself. “Since when do I need your permission? Or what, are you mad you’re not the one kissing me anymore?” After that, she only got bolder. She loved putting on shows of affection with Jasper too. “Sweetheart, come here. Let me fix your collar. “I made your lunch myself. Make sure you eat it, okay?” I stood there, lingering in the doorway, hoping for even the tiniest bit of attention. But her gaze never once landed on me. When she finally closed the door behind her, I stared at the lunchbox in Jasper’s hands. For a moment, I hesitated. Should I stop him? But before I could say a word, Jasper’s face darkened. Misreading my hesitation, he charged at me, ready for a fight.

Jasper blocked my way, his voice sharp and mocking. “Move it, you motherless stray.” He was built like a young bull, tall and strong. “Don’t even think about touching my lunch.” I could’ve stepped aside. I should’ve. But my bet with Dad played on a loop in my mind. So, I stood firm. Pain exploded in my stomach as Jasper charged, slamming into me. I hit the ground hard, my hands and knees scraping against the rough concrete. Blood welled up from the torn skin, hot and stinging. “Mom!” The word tore from my throat, raw and desperate. My chest tightened with a mix of humiliation and longing, and before I knew it, tears poured down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably. Jasper froze, his bravado cracking. “It’s not my fault! You fell on your own!” he stammered, his guilt barely concealed. The noise must have carried into the house because the door swung open, and there she was, my mom. I cried harder, louder, willing her to come to me, to pick me up, to care. “Mom! Jasper pushed me!” The words spilled out between hiccupping sobs. For a moment, guilt twisted in my chest. Was I wrong to complain? Was I being petty? But I was desperate, starved for even a shred of her attention. Her reaction left me cold. She walked right past me and crouched down beside Jasper, brushing the hair from his face with a tenderness I’d never known. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Did she scare you? Don’t worry, I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” I stared at her, the lump in my throat tightening. She had never, not once, spoken to me like that. When she finally turned to me, her eyes were hard, her voice sharp. “Avery, I warned you not to bully Jasper. “Stop this nonsense. No matter what you do, I’m not coming back. “I’ve told you before. I’m not your mother anymore. From now on, I only have one child, and that’s Jasper.” Her voice was dripping with contempt, but beneath it, there was a glimmer of satisfaction, a silent victory she wasn’t bothering to hide. In her mind, she thought, “Regret it now? Too late. All the suffering I endured because of you and your dad… it’s time you felt it too.” “Mom,” I said quietly. “Aren’t you even going to ask if I’m okay?” Her frown deepened, a flicker of unease crossing her face before she forced it back into indifference. “Why would I? Whether you’re hurt or not has nothing to do with me.” And there it was. The truth was stark and undeniable. Dad was right. She didn’t love me. That was why she didn’t care. I stood up and wiped my face with my sleeve, looking her straight in the eye. “Actually, I could’ve dodged him. “But I didn’t. I wanted to see if you’d feel guilty if I got hurt. “And you? Was this your plan all along?” In that moment, it all became clear, like the constant guilt I felt around Mom, the reason she left without hesitation, and why Dad stood by, letting it happen without a fight. Her face flushed red, anger flashing in her eyes. She grabbed Jasper’s hand, pulling him toward the house. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But she did. I saw it in the way her steps quickened, in the tight line of her mouth. She understood exactly what I meant. And it scared her.

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