Category: English

Seven years ago, my parents’ adopted daughter—my younger sister Madeline Archer—committed a hit-and-run while driving drunk. My parents. My biological sister. They all said the same thing to me. “Madeline has a heart condition. She can’t go to prison. Nora, please.” I didn’t agree. Then one night, deep into the dark, they put me in the back of a police car with their own hands. And my fiancé, Connor Ashford—the hedge fund titan who owned half of New York—he arranged everything. He said— “Nora, when you get out, I’ll marry you. Just get through these seven years.” … Seven years later. “Vance. Live your life out there. Don’t look back.” I took the faded canvas bag from the corrections officer’s hands. Bowed once. Walked out of Bedford Hills Correctional Facility with a limp. A black Cadillac Escalade was already waiting. The window rolled down. Connor Ashford’s sharp, handsome features emerged. “Nora.” Seven years. He hadn’t changed at all. I dropped my gaze without thinking. Got in the car. The rearview mirror threw back the reflection of a gaunt, scarred face. “Seven years. You’ve suffered enough. I’m keeping my promise. I’m marrying you.” Connor reached for my thin, brittle hand. I looked at the hollowed-out woman staring back at me in his eyes. Slowly pulled my hand free. Felt nothing. “Mm.” Seven years locked away. Two thousand five hundred eighty-nine days and nights. More than enough time to see Connor and my family for what they really were. They didn’t love me. And I didn’t want to marry him anymore. Connor caught my coldness. His reflex was to explain. “Madeline knew you were coming home today. It brought back everything from the accident seven years ago. Her anxiety flared up again. Your parents and your sister are at the hospital with her right now.” I listened in silence. Closed my eyes. Twenty-five years ago, I got lost in a shopping mall. I was two. My mother couldn’t bear the grief, so she went to a Catholic adoption agency and adopted Madeline Archer—a girl who looked like me. When I was fifteen, my parents found me. But they didn’t love me. Everything was about making way for Madeline. Seven years ago, they made me take Madeline’s place in prison. Compared to Madeline, I was the one who seemed like the adopted child. The whole drive, cars parted for Connor’s Escalade like it was a royal procession. An hour later, we reached the Archers’ townhouse on the Upper East Side. Only the housekeeper and staff were inside. They glanced at me with flat, indifferent eyes. A nod. Then back to their work. My parents loved Madeline. Not me. Their biological daughter. To the staff, I was just someone who existed in this house. Expendable. “Mr. Ashford. You’re here.” The housekeeper greeted Connor with careful deference first. Only then turned to me. “Miss Vance. Madam hopes you’ll keep outings to a minimum after you return.” Keep outings to a minimum. I served time for Madeline. So how did I become the one who had to hide? But I’d stopped expecting anything from them seven years ago. That night they put me in the police car. “Got it.” I moved toward the door. Connor’s phone rang. He took the call. Hung up. Turned to me. “Nora. Madeline had another episode. She needs me. I’m going to check on her. You just got back—rest. I’ll come see you tomorrow.” Then he was gone. Didn’t hesitate. I watched his back disappear. Limped down to my room in the basement. Pushed the door open. Dust everywhere. The sheets were a crumpled mess. No one had touched this place in a long time. I was too exhausted to care. Walked in. Collapsed onto the bed. Night. Half-asleep, I heard voices from the living room. My biological younger sister. Sophia Archer. “Dad. Mom. Madeline’s condition is this serious. Maybe we should have Nora move out. Every time Madeline sees her, it triggers an episode.” My father sighed. Said nothing. My mother spoke. “She is still an Archer daughter. If we kick her out, what will people say?” “Then what? We can’t keep Madeline in the hospital forever.” Sophia again. My father’s voice this time. “Here’s what we’ll do. When Madeline comes home, Nora stays out of her sight. She stays in her room.” I heard every word. My eyes burned. That’s when my phone buzzed. I picked it up. An encrypted email. “Ms. Eleanor Vance, congratulations. You have been accepted to Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory.” “Upon acceptance, you will assume a new identity and deploy with the research team to Thule Air Base, Greenland, in ten days. You will participate in the Arctic Climate Research Project.” “From that point forward, your identity will be fully classified. For five years, you will have no contact with anyone outside the program.” I read every line of the confidentiality agreement. Signed my name without hesitation. Eleanor Vance.

Seven years ago, I’d already gotten early admission to MIT. Double major. Atmospheric Science and Nuclear Engineering. The cruel part? Before I could decide whether to accept the offer, my biological parents sent me to prison. Seven years inside. I saw everything clearly. Near the end of my sentence, I retook the national lab selection exams. Not long after I sent the email, a reply came. “Ten days. December 10th. A security vehicle will pick you up at 9 p.m. sharp.” Ten days. I closed my eyes again. Ten more days. Then I could leave this house that never loved me. Forever. The next morning. Noise from the living room woke me. I blinked my way awake. Washed up. Walked out. Madeline was back. She sat on the couch in a white dress. Like some kind of socialite. My father. My mother. My biological sister Sophia. My fiancé Connor. All circled around her. The housekeeper brought out a red velvet cake. Everyone spoke in unison. “Happy birthday, Madeline.” Happiness pooled in her eyes. “Thank you, Dad. Mom. Sis. Connor.” Then she added, “I just got out of the hospital. Did anyone get me presents?” My parents and sister handed over their gifts one by one. Connor was about to give his when he spotted me coming up from the basement. “Nora. You’re awake. Come here. Celebrate Madeline’s birthday with us.” He waved me over. Didn’t notice my parents’ and sister’s faces shift. Madeline called out to me sweetly. “Sis. I’m sorry. I was sick yesterday, so I couldn’t pick you up when you got out. You’re not mad, right?” Sis. Before I could answer, Connor spoke for me. “Nora won’t hold that against you.” Madeline took Connor’s hand. Said to me— “Sis. It’s my birthday. Give me a birthday present. I want Connor.” She laid her filthy intentions out that bluntly. And no one in the room said a word. They just waited for my answer. I’d never seen anyone that shameless. My fists clenched. “And if I’m not willing?” Madeline’s face stiffened. She suddenly said something in German. A music term. “Such a dissonant note.” My mother echoed in German. “Don’t be upset, Madeline. Eleanor is just… talking to her is like playing the piano to a cow.” My father joined in. “Don’t bother with her, Madeline. No matter what, your mother and I only consider you our real daughter.” My sister Sophia followed in German. “Yeah. Sis. You’re my only sister.” What a family. I pretended I didn’t understand. Turned to Connor. “What are they talking about?” Connor’s eyes were deep. His lips moved. “Madeline said she was joking. Everyone’s telling you not to overthink.” Not to overthink. I don’t know how Connor and my family managed to lie to my face without flinching. They had no idea. I understood every word. My mother was a renowned pianist with the New York Philharmonic. My father made his name on Wall Street in his prime. From the moment they found me at that church adoption agency, they believed I’d never received a proper education. So all their attention went to their adopted daughter. Madeline. Ten years ago, Madeline and I applied to college at the same time. Madeline got into Juilliard. Massive celebration. None of them knew I’d been accepted to MIT. That I’d taught myself German. French too. Italian. But none of that mattered anymore. Because soon I’d be leaving this house of lies. And the liar Connor. “I just got out. Haven’t had a chance to see New York yet. I’m heading out. You all carry on.” I limped away under the indifferent stares of my family and the staff. Behind me, my parents and sister kept talking in German. Didn’t bother to hide it. They all forgot. Today was my birthday too.

I left the Archer house and took the subway to Brooklyn. Felony record. Academic credentials wiped. A body that didn’t work right anymore. I could only find part-time work washing dishes. Just to survive the next ten days. It’s laughable. After I came back to the Archer family at fifteen— The only money they ever gave me was five hundred dollars. The first month. After that, they decided I wasn’t as impressive as Madeline. Stopped caring about their biological daughter entirely. I worked. Took out loans. Paid my own tuition. Fed myself. Eleven-thirty at night. Last dish washed. I walked out of the restaurant alone. Saw Connor stepping out of a Maybach. Walking toward me. “Nora. Where have you been all this time?” Before I could speak— He pulled me toward the car. Opened the door. On the seat sat a beautiful strawberry cream cake. “Happy birthday, Nora.” I froze. The Ashfords and the Archers. Old family friends. Neighbors. Connor and I had been betrothed since before I was born. Even when I went missing at two, even when I was found at fifteen—that engagement never changed. I still remember. The first person I saw when I came back to the Archer house was Connor. White button-down. Standing in the sunlight. He glowed. Connor was the third son in the Ashford family. The housekeeper told me to call him “Connor.” I called him that for five years. In the Archer house, Connor was the only one who didn’t treat me like I was beneath him. He stood up for me when people bullied me. Gave me gifts on every holiday. He was the only person in New York City who was good to me. That kindness made me fall for him. Hopelessly. Irreversibly. I made him my redemption. My anchor. When a rival went after him, I didn’t even hesitate. I gave him one of my kidneys. And in the end, he was the one who arranged my seven-year prison sentence. “Nora? What’s wrong? You thought I forgot your birthday?” Connor’s voice pulled me back. I answered. Flat. “Thanks.” Connor pulled out another gift box from the back seat. “Open it.” I lifted the lid. Inside lay a hand-stitched ivory wedding gown. “You told me when you were little that you wanted to wear white to marry me. I had it made in advance. Do you like it?” His voice was soft. Connor was probably the only person in this world who would give me a wedding dress. My throat tightened. I murmured— “Connor. You remembered wrong. I don’t like wedding dresses. And I don’t like white.” The nuns at the orphanage told me they found me outside a bridal boutique. I was wearing an expensive navy-blue dress. So once I was old enough to remember things, I’d linger outside bridal shops. I made a habit of wearing blue. All kinds of blue. Hoping my parents would find me. Connor paused. Ran his hand over my hair. The same way he did seven years ago. “I’m sorry. I remembered wrong. I’ll have a new one made right away. Come on. Let’s go to a restaurant. Celebrate your birthday.” In the car. Driving back. A fine rain was falling. Connor kept a tight grip on my hand. “Nora. How are you thinner than seven years ago? And your leg—” He didn’t finish. His phone rang. I saw the name on the screen. Madeline. Connor took the call. Whatever was said on the other end, panic filled his eyes. He barked at the driver— “Back to the Archer house.” The driver turned around. The whole way, Connor kept texting Madeline. When we got back— Madeline stood on the rooftop terrace. White dress. Pale face. She saw me and Connor arrive. Murmured— “Dad. Mom. Sis. Connor. My sister’s back. It’s time for me to step aside. Goodbye.” Then she jumped. Three stories down.

The Archer townhouse was four stories total. Rooftop to ground. Maybe twelve meters. But when Madeline jumped, my parents, my sister, Connor—they all lunged toward her. That night. The sound of sirens filled the Archer house. After they all left for the hospital— I limped back down to my basement room. Lay on the bed. Checked my phone. December 2nd. 12:13 a.m. Connor broke his promise. Didn’t celebrate my birthday with me. But I didn’t hurt the way I used to. Closed my eyes. Slept. Eight days left. Eight days and the lab people would come take me away. … The next five days, I kept my routine. Work. My parents and sister stayed at Mount Sinai Hospital taking care of Madeline. Didn’t come home. Then one day. The restaurant TV played the news. “Ashford Capital CEO Connor Ashford and Archer family daughter Madeline Archer announce engagement.” My pupils tightened. That night, I got home. My parents. My sister. Madeline. All back. Connor was there too. My mother started in French. “Home this late. No concept of time at all.” My father shot her a look. She adjusted her tone. “Nora. You’re finally back. The whole family’s been waiting for you.” My father spoke. “Nora. The doctors say Madeline’s anxiety is getting worse. So we made the decision for you. We’ve transferred your engagement to Madeline. I hope you can understand.” I listened to them finish. My eyes full of contempt. They’d already made the decision for me. Now they wanted my feelings. I looked at Connor. Asked what I already knew. “Connor. Did you agree to this too?” Connor stood up from the couch. Walked over. Took my hand. “Madeline’s only wish right now is to marry me. Don’t worry. I won’t let you down. I’ll only go through the wedding ceremony with her. Just to give her what she wants.” You’re marrying someone else. How is that not letting me down? I pulled my hand away. “Fine. Whatever you’ve decided.” Connor heard my words. Something tightened in his chest. He tried to explain. But Madeline, sitting between my parents, spoke first. “Sis. If you’re not willing, then forget it.” As she talked, her nails dug into the back of her own hand. Hard enough to draw blood. My sister Sophia saw it. Rushed to stop her. Screamed at me. “Eleanor! Can’t you see my sister is sick? What do you want from us? What will make you satisfied?” My own sister. Can’t tell right from wrong. Hearing her, I thought about when I first came to the Archer house. First, they made me give up my bedroom to Madeline. Then they made me give up the Paris exchange spot to Madeline. After Madeline committed a crime— My mother grabbed my hands. Her grip strong enough to crack bone. Tears streaming down her face. “I raised Madeline with my own hands. Her heart won’t survive prison. Nora. We just want her to live. We don’t know what else to do.” “You take the blame for Madeline.” I remembered all of it. I said to Sophia— “You know what? I don’t care anymore. That engagement. That man. I don’t care about any of it. You want it? Take it.”

The living room sank into dead silence. No one could speak. Clearly, no one expected this from me. The me who always swallowed everything. Always said yes. I didn’t want to fight anymore. Limped back to my room. Late at night. Lying in bed. I opened my phone. Checked the calendar. December 7th. Three days left. My phone buzzed. Connor calling. I answered. “What is it?” “Nora.” Connor’s familiar voice came through. Smooth. “Madeline saved my life once. She gave me her kidney. So even if you can’t accept this, I’m still going through with the wedding ceremony.” Lying there, his words hit me like a boulder to the chest. I was the one who saved him. I was the one who gave him my kidney. How did it become Madeline? “Connor. Back then when you were hurt, I was the one who saved you. I gave you my kidney.” I couldn’t hold back the truth. Silence on the other end. Then Connor spoke. “Eleanor. Seven years in prison. When did you learn to make up stories?” “The one who saved me was Madeline. Your parents and the doctors can all prove it. I really can’t believe you’d say something like this.” I lay on that cold bed. Suddenly couldn’t find a single word. Eight years ago. Connor was attacked by a rival firm. Rushed into surgery. He needed a kidney transplant. I didn’t hesitate. Got tested. Match. Didn’t think twice. Gave him my kidney. And now it was all Madeline’s credit. And I couldn’t even prove it. After a long silence, I said— “Fine. Don’t believe me.” I’ve already decided to let you go anyway. I hung up. Closed my eyes. Sank into sleep. … Second-to-last day. I kept working at the restaurant. But I saw my sister Sophia sitting at a table. When she spotted me in my server uniform, a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes. Then back to cold. “The family didn’t give you money? You’ve been working as a waitress all this time?” I didn’t know why she came. “I’m not stealing. Not begging. Is there a problem?” Sophia choked. She stood up. “Mom and Dad are already planning my sister’s wedding. I hope this time you won’t upset her again.” She turned to leave. Her eyes caught my limp. Rare concern. “Your leg… go see a doctor when you have time.” Watching her back, I felt nothing like gratitude. When I first came back to the Archer house. Seeing my little sister. I was so happy. I remember that first year. Sophia’s birthday. I spent six months of my part-time wages on a Tiffany necklace. She handed it to a maid without a glance. “What is this? You know I never wear stuff like this. Don’t waste your money next time.” That same birthday, Madeline gave her a small cupcake. Sophia was over the moon. “Sis. You’re my real sister. You remembered my birthday. You know I love red velvet.” That was the moment I understood. I didn’t have a sister. Tomorrow night, I’d leave New York. So today was my last shift. Settled my wages. Walked out of the restaurant. A familiar Maybach sat in front of the department store. Before I could approach, the sky above the Brooklyn Bridge exploded with fireworks. Then drones. Hundreds of them. Forming words across the night sky. “Connor loves Nora. Forever.”

Forever? I stared at the drones for a long time. Connor walked up to me. “Nora. Yesterday. I handled things badly.” Under the neon lights, his voice was soft as water. “But you have to believe me. Even if Madeline saved me, the one I love is still you. So you didn’t need to say those things.” I almost wanted to cry. Not from being moved. From Connor’s words. How did he manage it? Hurting me over and over with my parents and sister. While saying he loved me. “What’s wrong?” Connor saw I wasn’t speaking. His long fingers pinched my cheek. “You’re really too thin. Why don’t you eat more?” I finally looked at him. “Seven years in prison. I was barely surviving. You didn’t think I had the luxury of putting on weight, did you?” Connor met my gaze. A tremor went through him. Maybe that was the moment he remembered. He was the one who sent me to prison. He opened his mouth. Before he could speak, the Maybach door swung open. A familiar voice. “Connor. Sis. Don’t just stand out there. It’s cold.” Madeline. My heart went colder. Connor explained. “Madeline insisted on coming with me to see you. She said she wants to thank you for being generous enough to let us be together.” “Come on. Let’s get you home.” He took my hand. Pulled me into the car. In the back seat. Madeline saw me climb in. Her eyes swept over my worn-out clothes. “Sis. Don’t Mom and Dad have finance send you money every month? Why did Sophia say you’re still working in a restaurant?” “That doesn’t look good. If outsiders see, they’ll think Mom and Dad play favorites. That they treat you badly.” She pulled a bracelet off her wrist. Held it out to me. “Sis. If you’re short on money and too embarrassed to tell Mom and Dad, just tell me. Mom gave me this bracelet for my birthday. It’s over forty thousand dollars. Should last you a while, right?” Forty thousand dollars. I stared at the extravagant bracelet she was offering. Self-loathing rose in my throat. One gift. Forty thousand. I remembered high school. I needed three hundred dollars for textbooks. I went to my mother. She said, “Money, money, money. Do I owe you? I gave birth to you. You should be grateful. Why do you keep asking me for money?” After that, I never asked my family for a single cent again. And as for finance sending me money? That never happened. “They do play favorites. Look at what you’re wearing. Look at me.” I pushed her charity bracelet away. “Stop performing for me. I’m not fifteen anymore. I don’t fall for your act.” When I was fifteen. Fresh to the Archer house. I wanted to be sisters with Madeline. She framed me. Again and again. Every bad thing she did, she pinned on me. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. Tears rolled down Madeline’s cheeks. Connor rushed to shield her. “Nora. Madeline meant well. You don’t have to take the bracelet, but there’s no need to say things like that.” That’s the man who said he loved me most. Every time it came down to me or Madeline, he always chose her. “Connor. When someone poor gets charity thrown at them, are they required to accept it? Required to weep with gratitude?” I asked him. Word by word. I have my dignity too.

Connor couldn’t answer. Madeline’s breathing turned ragged. She gasped for air. “I’m sorry… it’s my fault… all my fault… Connor, don’t blame my sister…” Connor panicked. Barked at the driver. “Now. Mount Sinai.” He saw me still in the car. “Nora. This was too far. Get yourself home.” He dumped me on the side of the road. The car roared away. I couldn’t feel the hurt anymore. Looked up at the night sky. At some point, snow had started falling. Snow in New York. I didn’t think I’d get to see the first snow before I left. I walked back to the Archer house. The whole mansion was decked out. Festive. My parents were planning Madeline’s wedding. “The day after tomorrow is a perfect date. We have to make Madeline’s wedding absolutely splendid.” My mother smiled. My father sighed. “Time really flies. I can’t believe our daughter’s about to get married.” Both of them. Joy and reluctance over Madeline’s marriage. I watched them from a distance. Saw how much they loved her. Really, truly loved her. When I was little, I watched this reunion show once. A girl got trafficked to the mountains of West Virginia when she was small. Renamed “Beth.” Later, she became an entrepreneur. Found her family. She kept telling the host, “I knew my mom wouldn’t abandon me. She has to be looking for me.” The host told her that her mother had never stopped searching. That her mother loved her. Deeply. Her mother’s original name for her was “Grace.” She wasn’t Beth. The woman on TV broke down sobbing. She kept saying, “I knew it. My mom didn’t abandon me.” I sat in front of the TV that day. Cried until I couldn’t breathe. It made me more determined to find my own mother. But now, I almost regretted it. Regretted finding them. If I’d never known, they could have stayed beautiful in my mind. Forever. I didn’t greet my parents. Went straight back to my basement room. Tomorrow night at nine. I’d be gone. After that, wide open sky. I could fly anywhere. No more begging for love. From family. From anyone. … The day after tomorrow. Madeline and Connor’s wedding. My sister Sophia threw them a pre-wedding party at a private estate in the Hamptons. The party drew young heirs from half the East Coast. Plus old classmates of mine and Madeline’s. The next morning. The house was buzzing. My room had no bathroom. I had to go upstairs to wash up. Passing the living room, everyone was drinking and laughing. Madeline and Connor sat in the center. Center of attention. “Connor. Tell us your most unforgettable moment with Madeline.” Someone was stirring the pot. Connor’s lips moved. “There are many.” “The most unforgettable one?” Madeline lowered her head. A blush on her cheeks. My sister Sophia laughed. “It’s the pre-wedding party. Connor and my sister’s last moments of being single. Can’t we all just have fun?” The guy who asked the question spotted me not far away. He said, “Connor. Pick any woman in this room. Tell us your most unforgettable moment together.” The atmosphere heated up instantly. The man pointed at me. “Nora. You and Connor used to be close, right? Why don’t you tell us?” Connor saw this. Stood up. Walked toward me. When he was about a meter away— Madeline spoke. “Connor…” Pitiful. Helpless. Connor glanced back at her. Then at me. Lowered his voice. “There are too many people here. I’m about to marry Madeline. I don’t want to make things awkward.” “You understand, right?” I answered flatly. “Mm.” Turned and went to wash up. Behind me, everyone circled back around Connor and Madeline. More laughing. More talking. I may be starved for love. But I’m not stupid. When it’s a choice between two, thanks for letting me go.

That whole day. The Archer house buzzed. Rich kids showered Madeline and Connor with praise. “Madeline. You and Connor are just perfect together. Remember back in high school? Connor drove you home all the time, right?” “I remember Connor beat up a whole crew of Brooklyn thugs for you. And that car accident—Connor shielded you with his own body, not caring if he got hurt. You’re the only one he’s ever treated like that.” Madeline’s best friend jumped in. “Connor treats our Madeline well, but Madeline gives just as much back. Years ago when Connor was injured, Madeline even gave him one of her kidneys.” “Wow. Connor and Madeline are that rare thing. True love.” “Mutual. Real mutual.” On Wall Street. In capitalist circles. Love is a luxury. Rare. Precious. I sat alone in my little corner. Almost laughed. Because everything they described about Madeline—that was me. Connor was older than me. When I was in high school, he was already at Harvard Business School. He saw how pitiful I was. Every time he came home, he’d have his driver wait and take me back too. I got harassed by thugs a lot. Connor would shed his suit jacket and fight them for me. Once we got in a car accident on the way home. Connor shielded me with his body. I didn’t get a single scratch. That’s why I fell for him. No hesitation. Even gave him my kidney. But… The Connor who used to like me. Protect me. Put me first. That Connor died. The one sitting in the Archer house now—he wasn’t that boy made of light anymore. So I decided. I didn’t want him. Time ticked by. Night fell. Connor set off fireworks across the city for Madeline. He pulled me aside. “Nora. After the wedding tomorrow, you and I can finally be together.” I thought about the past. All the times he helped me. Saved me. I opened my mouth. “I’m sorry… I won’t…” Be with you anymore. I didn’t finish. My sister Sophia called for him. “Brother-in-law! Come on. We’re waiting for you to cut the cake.” Cut the cake? Connor called back. “Coming.” Then he looked at me. “You won’t what?” I gave a bitter smile. “Nothing. Go.” Connor squeezed my cold hand. “After tomorrow, everything will be over.” He turned and left. I watched his tall figure walk away. Yeah. Everything’s over. … Fireworks bloomed overhead. Everyone flocked to Madeline’s room. I walked into the main house alone. Checked the time on my phone. 7:15 p.m. One hour and forty-five minutes left. I took a long, clean shower. Stared at myself in the mirror. Scars all over my body. Leftover souvenirs from prison. Then I put on the cleanest, most expensive outfit I owned. Waited for the lab to come get me. Final hour. Countdown. I scanned the room I’d lived in for years. The basement wasn’t small. But my things barely filled a corner. A few worn-out clothes. Old shoes. A quilt the staff didn’t want anymore. A beat-up notebook on the desk. And next to it, the only decoration—a photo frame. I tossed the useless clothes first. Shoes. Quilt. Then I walked to the desk. Picked up the frame. Inside was a photo from twelve years ago. The day I first came back to the Archer house. A group shot of both families. Father. Mother. Sisters. Madeline. Connor. All there. That photo held every hope I’d ever had. Now I pulled it out of the frame. Tore it into pieces. One by one. Dropped them in the trash. Finally, I looked at my notebook. The one I’d been writing in since I was fifteen. Flipped to the first page. “December 3, 2012. Sunny. I came home. I saw my father and mother. My father is so handsome. My mother is so elegant. Both my little sisters are beautiful too. I’m so happy. I have parents now. I have sisters.” Turned the page. “March 1, 2013. Cloudy. Didn’t get the textbook money today. Don’t know how to tell my teacher. Mom and Dad probably have their reasons. I should earn my own money. Can’t be a burden on them anymore.” “June 7, 2013. Sunny. I saved up three months of part-time wages for that necklace. My little sister didn’t like it. I’ll make more money later. Buy her better gifts.” Flipped further. Last entry. The day before I went to prison. “December 1, 2017. Rain.” Only one line. “They don’t love me at all.” … My eyes blurred. I couldn’t help it. I picked up the pen. Wrote on the last page. This time, in German. “December 10, 2024. Light snow.” “I’m leaving, Mom and Dad.” “Before I go, I can’t stop myself from asking—if you never liked me, why did you put ads in the papers and go on television looking for me all those years?” “Is it really true, what some people say? That if you didn’t raise a child yourself, there’s no bond?” “But why have I seen other parents so happy after finding their kids?” “They say when parents find their lost child, that’s when they lose the child all over again. Maybe I’m the exception. Getting found by my parents was the moment I truly lost them.” I poured it all out. The confusion. The resentment. Everything. “Sophia. You said you only want Madeline as your sister. Today I’ll grant your wish. From now on, you have only one sister.” Last. I wrote to Connor. “Connor. You told me to wait until after your wedding with Madeline. Then we could be together.” “I’m sorry. This time, I won’t wait for you.” “Wish you and Madeline happiness.” “This is goodbye. Let’s not see each other again.” I set the notebook on the desk. Then I placed my prison medical report on top of it. The report showed it clearly. I only had one kidney. Done. Nine o’clock. I grabbed my faded canvas bag. Limped out of the Archer house. Behind me, the Archer house blazed with lights. People laughing. Celebrating. Across from me, black armored SUVs waited in perfect silence. I didn’t hesitate. Walked toward my future. The vehicles pulled away from the glittering streets. Vanished into the night.

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In the casino, my boyfriend Nathan Pierce’s cousin Amanda Clark gambled away 30 million dollars. When she couldn’t pay, the so-called ‘Prince of Winterhaven,’ Lucas Hartley held her captive and threatened to cut off her hand. Amanda is practically shaking with fear, but Nathan doesn’t hesitate for a second. He grabs me and shoves me forward instead. “Don’t take Amanda’s hand. Take hers.” He pins my wrist to the table, and his voice goes all soft and sweet. “Amanda’s gonna be a world-class pianist someday. Her hands are priceless, you know? But you? You just cut fish at the market. You’ll be fine with one hand. And if it really comes down to it, I’ll take care of you.” Amanda hides behind him, putting on a fake, concerned tone. “Yeah, Emma. This is Mr. Hartley’s place. Maybe you could just help us out here? I mean, he’s got a reputation for being brutal. If we don’t make him happy today, we’re all gonna die.” I almost laugh. Sure, I work at the fish market, but that’s only because my therapist suggested repetitive manual work might help me manage my bipolar condition. It’s supposed to be stress relief or whatever. These two are scared of Winterhaven’s prince, but they don’t seem too worried about his older sister. Which happens to be me—the Hartley family’s eldest daughter. *** The prince of Winterhaven, my little brother, Lucas Hartley, looks at me, and I can see the confusion on his face. “Wait, you look so familiar… Do I know you?” I pull my hat down lower and adjust my mask. Dad’s hunting for a traitor in the family right now, and Lucas is basically suspect number one. I can’t blow my cover here. But before I can do anything, Nathan steps forward and slams my hand down on the table. “She’s nobody. Just some girl who works at a fish market. There’s no way she’d know someone like you, sir.” Amanda immediately clings to his arm. “Nate, stop… Emma’s gonna get hurt.” She’s saying “stop,” but her body language tells a completely different story. She keeps backing away from me, and every few seconds, she glances over with a smirk like she’s enjoying this whole thing. “Come on, Emma. Just help Nate out, okay?” Amanda pouted. “It’s 30 million dollars. His company just started up, and he doesn’t have that kind of money. You don’t have any family anyway. Even if you end up disabled, Nate’s not gonna leave you.” I don’t say anything. I just look up at Lucas instead. This kid’s gotten bold in the three years since I’ve seen him. What’s he doing waving a knife around like some kind of gangster? Lucas seems to notice me staring. He frowns and looks at me more carefully, but I’m covered in dried fish blood from head to toe and I reek. It’s pretty hard to connect that to Emma Hartley, Winterhaven’s princess. “Hey, fish girl.” Lucas points the knife at me. “Your boyfriend wants to chop off your hand, and you’re fine with that?” I’m about to say something when Nathan panics. He slaps his hand over my mouth and turns to Lucas with a big fake smile plastered on his face. “Mr. Hartley, she’s fine with it! I promise!” Amanda jumps right in. “Emma’s completely obsessed with Nate. She’d die for him without even blinking, so losing a hand is nothing. Besides, she used to work at a nightclub. She’s danced for tips in clubs before. Losing a hand won’t stop her from selling herself, right, Emma?” A nightclub? I was inspecting one of my own venues when she saw me there, and now she’s spreading these disgusting lies? Nathan yanks me over to him and his face goes cold. “Emma, don’t be stupid right now. Amanda’s got a real future ahead of her as a pianist. If you take this hit for us today, I’ll marry you immediately. But if you don’t do this, we’re done. Over.” I feel pretty helpless, so I quickly fire off a few messages to my dad. But the second I look at his reply, Nathan grabs me and raises the knife. “Emma! You think this is your fish market or something? Put that damn phone away! Don’t worry though. I’ll make it quick and painless. I’ll get you the best doctors and the best prosthetic money can buy.” I stare at that knife and at the twisted look on his face, and I feel myself starting to lose control. I’ve been off my medication for two weeks now, and my doctor warned me it could mess with my impulse control. Turns out he was right about that, because right now, I don’t feel like killing fish today. Today, I feel like tearing everything apart. But thinking about the family situation, I rub my temples and force myself to stay calm. “Fine. You can cut off my hand. Just give me a minute first, okay?”

I’m so frustrated right now. Dad’s plan is almost complete, and I just need to stall as long as I possibly can. Nathan sees that I’m not fighting back anymore, and he looks so pleased with himself. “I knew you couldn’t give me up. It’s just one hand anyway. I’ll take care of you after this is over. Amanda’s my cousin, you know. I promised my aunt I’d look after her, and I can’t break that promise.” I almost laugh out loud at that. Cousin? Yeah right. More like his side piece. I caught them wrapped around each other before, and he told me Amanda was just losing her balance and he was helping her stay upright. Back then, I only saw Nathan as a way to kill time when I was bored, so I didn’t bother calling him out on it. But now these two are showing off right in front of me like they’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. Where did they get the nerve? Amanda pipes up again. “Emma, you can’t be selfish here. Mr. Hartley’s time is so valuable. Why should he waste it waiting around for you?” Lucas watches all of this with an amused expression on his face. “This is getting interesting.” “So if someone doesn’t want to lose their hand, then maybe…” He looks at Amanda for a second, and I can see her tense up. Amanda starts shaking and grabs onto Nathan’s arm. “Nate, save me…” Nathan immediately pulls Amanda behind him and gives Lucas this disgusting bootlicking smile. “Mr. Hartley, don’t listen to her. She’s just scared out of her mind right now. I’ll do it right now. I’ll cut off her hand immediately!” Nathan raises the knife and brings it down. My wrist tightens up, and I’m about to lose it, but Lucas speaks up again. “Hold on.” Nathan freezes mid-swing. “Mr. Hartley, is there something else you need?” Lucas taps Amanda with the tip of his knife. “Don’t cut her hand yet. Make her drink for what she owes first, round by round. We can chop it off after she’s done.” Before anyone can react, servers start bringing out rows and rows of shot glasses. They cover the entire table. The crowd around us starts whispering. “Mr. Hartley’s pissed. I heard the last person who made him angry got carried out foaming at the mouth, and he’s still in the hospital.” “This girl’s screwed. Not only is she gonna lose her hand, but now she’s gonna get played to death first.” Amanda’s face goes completely pale, and Nathan has to hold her up. Then he turns around and shoves me forward instead. “Mr. Hartley, my girlfriend can really hold her liquor. She’ll drink for Amanda!” I look at the table full of shots, and I actually smile. Drinking happens to be one of my specialties, and my baby brother here clearly learned all his dirty tricks from me. “You want me to drink? Fine, let’s do this.” I start going through the rows one by one, and I don’t even blink. But Amanda’s standing off to the side running her mouth. “Emma used to work at nightclubs, so of course she’s different from the rest of us. Besides alcohol, she’s probably swallowed plenty of other filthy things too, right?” I’m almost done with the last row when I pause for just a second. Nathan immediately starts pushing me. “Hurry up! Stop dragging your feet. Mr. Hartley’s waiting.” Amanda’s feeling brave now, and she starts taunting me. “Emma, if you really can’t handle it, just give up. It’s only losing a hand. You can tough it out.” I give her one cold look and reach for the last row of shots. But right then, someone’s hand suddenly presses down on my glass.

I don’t dare look up because I know it’s Lucas. He grabs the glass out of my hand and casually throws it on the ground. Nathan’s completely stunned. He asks carefully, “Mr. Hartley, what… what does this mean? She hasn’t finished yet.” Lucas ignores him and claps his hands instead. “I just realized something. Making her drink is boring. We should play something else. It’s not every day I meet a woman who interests me this much.” Watching Nathan act like a total lapdog makes me sick to my stomach. Next time I pick a boy toy, I need to have better standards. Lucas leans back in his chair and lights a cigarette. Through the smoke, he points at the dice cup on the table. “Since you’re in my casino, we’re playing dice. High or low. Simple as that. You win, the 30 million dollars gets wiped clean. You lose…” He pauses and looks between me and Amanda. “Lose a round, and you take off one piece of clothing.” Amanda bursts into tears the second she hears that. She’s wearing a strapless mini dress today, so there are barely two pieces to begin with. If she loses, she’ll basically be stripping in front of everyone. “Nate, I can’t do this. There are so many people here, and if I… how am I supposed to get married after this?” she sobs. Nathan looks like his heart’s breaking. He turns to Lucas, practically begging. “Mr. Hartley, Amanda’s a lady. She’s young and all that. Making her take her clothes off doesn’t seem right. Can we pick something else?” Lucas actually laughs at that, and then he kicks Nathan straight in the chest. “Who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do?” Nathan struggles to his feet, and then he looks at me. “Emma! You know how to roll dice, right?” Before I can even answer, he just decides for me. “You’re playing for Amanda.” I have bipolar disorder, not some kind of masochism problem. I glance at the message on my phone and speak up. “I’m not playing.” Nathan freezes for a second, and then he grabs me, absolutely furious. “Don’t be ungrateful! Amanda comes from a respectable family, and you’re basically nobody. What’s the big deal if you take off some clothes? As long as it saves Amanda, you’ll do whatever I tell you to do!” I can feel my temper flaring up, and I can’t control it anymore. I smile at him instead. “Nathan, you really think I’m some pushover?”

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My name is Eliot Gideon. I’ve just finished dinner with my childhood friend Silas Vance. But when I’m about to leave, a stranger blocks my path, insisting I pay his table’s bill. I refuse. I don’t know him, after all. But that refusal angers him. “Fuck you, punk! You should be grateful I even let you pay! In Valecrest, no one snubs Lund Group and walks away.” Before I can answer, he escalates. “Know who I am? Asher Hale. My wife, Coral Lund, runs Lund Group. Still feeling brave?” I stare at him for a second, processing the absurdity, then dial Coral. “So… you have another husband at the office?” The moment I hang up, Asher explodes. He snatches my phone and smashes it to the ground. “Calling for help? You really think you’re leaving in one piece?” “Stop!” Silas steps in front of me, shielding me. “This is Lund Group’s manners? Accosting strangers for money, then laying hands on them?” Asher’s face flushes crimson. “Manners? In Valecrest, the name Lund Group is manners!” “I was doing you a favor to let you pay, get it?” “You wanna talk about rules? My word is the rule!” I laugh, glancing toward Asher. “Even Lund Group doesn’t teach highway robbery, does it?” Asher snorts and slams a boot on the chair, like some cheap gangster. “I’m basically offering you a chance to climb the social ladder higher, idiot. People beg to buy me drinks. I just turn most of them down.” Climb the ladder, he says. Since when does the Gideon Family need to grovel to anyone in Valecrest? I glance at Silas. His face is storm-dark. The richest heir of Havenport, capital of the country, never imagined a petty Lund Group could humiliate him on Valecrest soil. Asher sneers and waves toward the door. “Let me get one thing straight: in Valecrest, I, Asher Hale, am the law. Pin these fuckers down!” The instant the words leave his mouth, seven or eight black-suited bodyguards flood in, circling us like wolves. Silas yanks me back, his fists tightening. But they’re too many. Before he can swing, two guards pin his arms. “Silas!” I lunge, only to feel a blow to the back of my neck. My vision blacks out. Through the haze, I hear Silas snarl, “Bastard!” Then a fist cracks against his cheek. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. They force me to the ground. Helpless, I watch Asher drive his boot into Silas’s stomach, cursing all the while. “Stick your nose in my business? Today you’ll learn Lund Group is untouchable!” Their fists pummel him like sledgehammers. Silas came here for fun, not this senseless brawl. I rasp out. “Asher Hale, I’m Coral’s lawfully wedded husband, Eliot Gideon!” I jerk my chin toward Silas. He’s still pinned. “That’s Silas Vance from Havenport! Let us go now, and I’ll let this slide!” Asher’s foot freezes mid-kick; then he bursts out laughing. “Coral’s husband? A Vance? You two must’ve lost your minds.” The table behind him roars with laughter. “Everyone knows Ms. Lund’s husband is Deputy Hale.” “Man, the lies people tell when they’re desperate.” “Vance Family? Havenport? Never heard of it, must’ve pulled the name out of thin air.” Asher crouches, seizing my jaw, eyes vicious. “Say you’re her husband one more time, and I’ll break your arm. I’ll teach you the difference between real and fake. Only I get to say Coral’s name. Only I get to claim her.” Silas, still pinned and bleeding, mocks through split lips. “Eliot, come on. So this marriage of yours is just for decoration? The guy’s declaring himself her man right in front of you, and you’re the cuckold?” His words startle a laugh out of me, dark, edged with fury. Asher still grips my jaw. I wrench my head and sink my teeth into his wrist. He howls, grip slackening. Taking the chance, I slam my knee into the guard behind me. Then I snatch a beer bottle and crack it across another’s forehead. By the time Asher realizes what’s happening, I’m on him, fist crashing into his face. He staggers back, blood gushing from his nose. “You dare hit me?” he roars, lunging. But I catch his arm instead and hurl him to the ground. I straddle him, raining punches. Lund Group thugs surge forward, reeking of alcohol. “You hit Deputy Hale? You’re dead!” Silas has somehow broken free. He kicks one attacker aside and yells at me. “Damn it! Beat him senseless! I’ve never swallowed this kind of insult in my life!” In the chaos, someone swings a chair into my back. I grunt but don’t stop. Asher shrieks, clawing at my hair. “Everyone from Lund Group, tear him apart! I’ll take responsibility, triple bonuses!” They swarm like rabid dogs, pulling my arms, holding my waist, and kicking the back of my knees. Asher lands a boot in my gut while I’m held. I stumble back, ready to charge again, when a voice cuts through the brawl. “Everyone, freeze!”

Two uniformed officers shoulder their way in, take one look at the wreckage, and frown. But the moment they spot Asher, face bruised, nose bleeding, pinned to the ground, their expressions flip like a switch. “Deputy Hale? What are you doing here? What happened?” Detective Finn hurries forward, voice oozing deference, hand already out to help Asher up. Asher sees the badges and suddenly finds his backbone. He jabs a finger at Silas and me, howling. “Detective Finn! These two outsiders are insane! They refused to pay their bill, then jumped us! Look what they did to me. And my staff!” Detective Finn glances at our injuries, dismisses them with a flick of his eyes, then turns on us, face hard. “What the hell do you two think you’re doing? Brawling in public, assaulting Lund Group personnel? You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.” “He blocked us from leaving and threw the first punch.” Silas growls, wiping blood from his lip. “Lies!” Asher cuts in instantly. “I was being generous, letting them bask in Lund Group’s shine by picking up my tab. They flipped, then had the gall to claim one of them is my wife’s husband and the other’s some big shot from Havenport.” Detective Finn clearly buys every word. He gestures at the shattered bottles and overturned chairs. “Doesn’t matter who started it. You two did this damage, and you injured Deputy Hale. That makes it your fault. Let me spell it out: in Valecrest, nobody snubs Lund Group. Deputy Hale is Ms. Lund’s man. Touch him, and you’re spitting on the whole city’s rules.” The other officer, Declan, already has his cuffs out, twirling them. “Enough chatter. You’re coming with us. Oh, and you’re covering Deputy Hale’s tab, the restaurant’s repairs, medical bills, and emotional damages. Kneel and apologize, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll keep it out of court.” “On what grounds?” I laugh, furious. “He started the whole thing, and you’re sentencing us without a trial?” “On the grounds that you’re outsiders.” Detective Finn waves a hand, bored. “You play by Valecrest rules here. Deputy Hale letting you pay his bill was a gift. Don’t insult the gift.” Silas’s smile is ice-cold. “I’d love to see Valecrest’s ‘rules’ try to outrank federal law.” “Still got a mouth on you, huh?” Declan steps in, reaching for my wrists. “Guess you’ve never learned respect.” I sidestep; he snarls, yanks out his stun baton, and thumbs the switch. “Fine. You want the hard way?” He lunges, jabbing the crackling tip toward my ribs. Electric fire races through my limbs; my knees buckle. Silas catches me, roaring at the cops. “You’re abusing your badges!” “Abuse? I’m enforcing order.” Finn sneers, drawing his own baton and leveling it at Silas. “In Valecrest, Lund Group’s business is order. You punks need a real lesson in respect.” The snap of electricity fills the air. Silas jerks, the smell of scorched fabric rising. “Dogs with badges… You’ll regret this…” “Regret?” Detective Finn laughs, tapping Silas’s chin with the baton. “Save that for when you’re inside, getting nightly reminders from the other inmates.” He turns to Asher, all smiles. “Deputy Hale, how’s that? Hard enough? Want me to dial it up?” Asher smirks, arms folded. “Crank it. They need to learn who runs this town.” Finn kicks me in the ribs, then bows to Asher. “Deputy Hale, if you don’t mind me asking, when’s Ms. Lund due? Declan and I want to be first in line with congratulatory gifts.” Declan nods eagerly. “Absolutely. Please do grant us the honor. Maybe Ms. Lund will remember us when promotions come around.” Hearing that, Asher grins. “Four, five months. Doc says it’s a boy.” Coral… pregnant… The words hit me like a sledgehammer. After six months abroad, I just got back to Valecrest. And now she’s carrying a child. I felt a hot flush of anger spread across my face. Two years we’ve been married. She always said the company was too busy for kids. I struggle to my feet. Declan sees the movement and drives the baton into the back of my neck. White lightning blinds me. The ground tilts. Asher snatches up a chair, ready to bring it down on my skull. Then, quick and sharp, the click of high heels cut through the room from the doorway.

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The party was in full swing when Mrs. Higgins cornered me by the champagne fountain. Her smile was all teeth, no warmth. “You’re remarkably gracious, Jane,” she purred. “Most wives wouldn’t throw a party for the woman who stole their job.” I froze, wine glass halfway to my lips. “That’s impossible. Caleb values competence above nepotism. I earned that Foundation Director position myself.” Mrs. Higgins’ laugh was brittle. “Darling, I saw the announcement. Harper’s name is right there. ‘Executive Director of the Turner & Co. Charity Foundation.’” She leaned in, dropping her voice to a stage whisper. “Everyone knows Caleb’s been keeping two women on the payroll, if you catch my meaning.” The wine turned sour in my mouth. I turned to find Caleb across the room, his expression guilty as sin. My parents intercepted me before I could reach him. “Jane, sweetheart.” Mom gripped my wrist. “Harper is a widow. She has no family, no prospects. People will talk if she doesn’t have a respectable position.” Dad nodded gravely. “You’re Caleb’s wife. You have his credit card, his name, his mansion. Surely you can afford to be generous.” The word “generous” tasted like poison. My heart felt like it was being carved apart with a dull knife. Fine. They wanted me to be generous? I’d give them generous. I’d hand Caleb over to Harper entirely.

The room was silent except for the clink of ice in Caleb’s scotch. Everyone had left. Just us now. “How long were you planning to hide it?” My voice was steady, cold. “Were you going to tell me after Harper join the company? Or never?” Caleb wouldn’t meet my eyes. That avoidance told me everything. “You’re strong, Jane. You don’t need protecting.” He swirled his drink. “Harper is different. Fragile. She needs me to shield her from the world.” “Jane, be reasonable. It’s only a job.” A job？ The tears came despite my best efforts. We’d been married three years. Three years where he was “too busy building the empire” to spend more than a handful of nights at home. He’d given Harper as his secretary two years ago. She got to work beside him every day while I ate dinner alone. She stole three years of my marriage. Now she was wanting more. Why should I accept this? Harper materialized beside me, eyes glistening with crocodile tears. “Jane, I told Caleb not to do this.” Her voice was honey-sweet. “He just thinks you’re not suitable for the Foundation work. You are Mrs. Turner, after all. He didn’t want people to think you got the position through his powers.” She reached for my hand in a sisterly gesture. Every touch felt like needles under my skin. “Mrs. Turner?” The word came out sharp. “Caleb has suspended the credit card two years ago. I’ve been working day and night. I worked until I miscarried. I’m not suitable?” “I spent a year training—networking events, charity galas, foundation law seminars—so I wouldn’t embarrass him at the Foundation. Crawling through mud and mockery to prove myself. That’s being using his power?” Two years. Every sacrifice I made to stand beside him. Every careful step to avoid even a whisper of scandal. And Caleb erased me with a signature. Replaced me without a conversation. The facade of “protecting me” was stripped bare in front of everyone. Harper’s tears spilled over. “Caleb, please. Give the position back to Jane.” She turned to him, voice breaking. “I can handle gossip. I’ve endured worse…” Caleb immediately moved to comfort her, his expression darkening as he glared at me. My father spoke first. “Jane. Is this how we raised you?” His voice cut like a judge’s gavel. “Harper has no parents, no husband—he died three years ago—and you’re being cruel to her?” Mom’s disappointment was palpable. “Harper’s already facing terrible rumors as a young widow. Are you deliberately making it worse?” Tears blurred my vision. My heart felt like it was splitting open. “You stood by and watched me become the laughingstock of this entire social circle!” My voice cracked. “And you call yourselves my parents?!” Suddenly it all made sense. The menu for tonight—prime rib and lobster thermidor. They knew I hated rich, heavy food. They knew this dinner wasn’t for Caleb and me. It was Harper’s celebration party. They’d known all along. My parents looked away, guilt flickering across their faces. Caleb’s voice cracked like a whip. “Enough!” He slammed his glass down. “I decide who gets what position in my company. My choice. My company.” “Jane, your jealousy right now is pathetic. Harper would never act like this.” “Maybe you should reflect on why you’re so insecure.” He looked at me like I was a stranger having a breakdown. The room erupted in murmurs—some defending him, others pitying Harper. I wiped my tears. Met his eyes. “I did reflect,” I said quietly. “It’s not me who needs to change. It’s you.” “So let’s get divorced.”

Three years of marriage, and everything I owned fit in a single duffel bag. Every penny I earned went to Caleb, just to prove I wasn’t a woman he needed to support. Looking back now, I was really stupid. Packing took ten minutes. Mrs. Higgins knocked, letting herself in. “Jane, darling, where are you going with that bag? You’re not seriously considering divorce…” “I am.” “No, no, no!” She grabbed my arm. “Yesterday was my fault. Don’t throw away your marriage because of my big mouth!” She lowered her voice urgently. “Caleb is young, brilliant, devastatingly handsome. Three years married and he’s never let you suffer a day. Why would you walk away?” “If you leave now, you’re just handing Harper exactly what she wants. Don’t you see that?” The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth from biting my tongue. “Mrs. Higgins, you saw how hard I fought for that position last year.” “Caleb had the power to approve it. I asked him once，just once，and he accused me of being a gold-digger trying to use his connections.” Mrs. Higgins stammered. “Well… but you’re married. People would’ve talked.” I laughed bitterly. “Because we’re married, my hundred hours of work meant nothing. But Harper? No relationship, no credentials, and he paves her entire road in gold.” “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Higgins?” I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I walked past her, bag in hand. “I know Caleb sent you to change my mind. Don’t bother.” Mrs. Higgins was the most difficult woman in the area. She’d hated me since day one. Only Caleb could make her apologize to me. I opened the door. Caleb stood on the other side, his expression cold and flat. I didn’t acknowledge him. Stepped around him. He caught my wrist, voice low and impatient. “Are you done with this tantrum?” “You filed a complaint with the Board claiming I’m having an affair with Harper. You demanded the divorce. I’m choosing to overlook that.” “Jane, I’m human too. Try to understand my position.” Every time. Every single time I questioned his relationship with Harper, he used this line. “I’m a CEO, I’m your husband, but I’m also just a man.” “Jane, others can doubt me, but you can’t. You have to understand my position with Harper.” Because of his demand for “understanding,” I endured everything. When people mocked me—laughing about how I funded his affair—I screamed back at them. “My husband is just being kind to a widow. I trust him completely!” And the whole time? He was sleeping with her. I was the punchline. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. “How dare you say that to me.” “Caleb, before you sign the divorce, I don’t want to see your face.” I moved into an old apartment that night and found a new job. Senior director at Nexon Group, the most prestigious consulting firm in the country. The CEO told me if I secured the Hawthorne Industries this quarter, I will become the Executive Director of the branch office. For that position, I worked before dawn and past midnight. I took every impossible client pitch other consultants rejected. Two months of non-stop presentations and proposals until I collapsed. When I woke up, I was in a private medical suite. My parents sat beside the bed. “Jane, you have a CEO husband who adores you. Why are you destroying yourself like this?” Mom’s eyes were wet. “Look at you—skin and bones. It breaks my heart.” Why were they here? I pinched myself hard. Not dreaming. “Dad. Mom.” My voice broke. “The divorce isn’t a tantrum.” “I have got a job. And when I stand firm, I’ll take you both with me. Away from all this.” Maybe illness makes people vulnerable. In that moment, I wanted to forgive them for lying to me. If we could just be a family again. Mom’s face crumpled. “Sweetheart, that’s actually why we’re here.” “Because of your Board complaint, Caleb was reprimanded. Publicly.” “He says he doesn’t blame you. And he knows you work very hard. He has influence with Nexon Group’s Board.” Dad jumped in quickly. “You just have to agree to attend Harper’s adoption ceremony. ” “Then he’ll pull strings for you. Get you a more easier and respectable position.” Every shred of hope withered and died. Of course. It was always about Harper. My parents were going to adopt another daughter. To save Harper’s reputation, they needed me to smile and play along. I closed my eyes, letting tears slide down my temples. Finally, I exhaled. “Fine. I’ll do it. In exchange, let him sign the divorce paper.”

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Ten years into my marriage, I, Hugh Baker, stumbled upon a paternity test on my wife’s computer, something I’d never known existed. It declared that the son I’d raised for a decade, Zack Baker, wasn’t my biological child. “Honey, what are you still doing in the study so late?” It was Lilith Wells, my wife. Her voice startled me. In a panic, I closed the document, but she had already seen it. She looked at me with a dark expression. “Don’t you trust me, honey?” I opened the paternity test report and confronted her about it. But she immediately shut down the computer and turned the tables on me, accusing me of not respecting her privacy. Watching her walk away, I realized how strange our ten-year marriage had become. I calmly opened the drawer and tore up the tenth-anniversary gift I had prepared long ago. … I pulled open the bottom drawer, where a signed share transfer agreement was kept. I had planned to give her 15% of the company on our wedding anniversary tomorrow as a tenth-year gift. But now, it seemed unnecessary. I took out the document and tore it apart, piece by piece. The scraps fell into the trash, mixing with the wrapping paper for the anniversary gift I had prepared. I looked at those gifts again. The joy I once felt was gone. All that remained was nausea. When I returned to the bedroom, Lilith was already in bed, as if nothing had happened. I stood at the door for a long time, watching her sleeping back, then turned and went to the guest room. I didn’t sleep all night. The next morning, I was woken up by Lilith. The next morning, Lilith woke me with a sharp knock. She stood at the guest room door, anger written all over her face. “Hugh, what’s this supposed to mean? Sleeping in the guest room?” I sat up and looked at her. It’s a face I had seen for ten years, yet now it felt completely unfamiliar. “I need some space.” Her face turned red, and she stormed off in a huff. “Like I care.” After Lilith went to work, I made breakfast as usual. Zack sat at the dining table, drinking milk. “Dad, you look pale.” I stroked his hair, soft and slightly curly, just like Lilith’s. Over the years, many people had said that they looked alike. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Hurry up and eat, or you’ll be late.” On the way to school, my mind kept drifting. At a red light, I turned around and pretended to fix his collar. From the back of his head, I plucked a strand of hair. “You’ve got a gray hair. Dad will take it out.” I slipped the hair into the small notebook I always carried. Watching Zack walk into the school, I went to the paternity testing center. “I need an expedited test. How soon can I get the results?” “Normally, it takes five working days. If you rush it, it will be before 4PM today. The fee is triple.” “Expedite it.” When I handed in the sample, my hands were a little shaky. After taking my oral cells, I sat in the waiting area, staring at the clock on the wall as it ticked away. During this time, I contacted a private detective. “I want to investigate my wife, Lilith Wells, especially her whereabouts in the past few months.” At 3:40 PM, my phone rang. The results were ready. I clicked open the electronic report and went straight to the end. “Based on DNA analysis, the probability of a parent-child relationship between Hugh Baker and Zack Baker is 0.0001%. According to genetic marker analysis, Hugh Baker is not the biological father of Zack Baker.”

I thought I was ready, yet the words still punched the air out of me. I steadied myself against the wall and slid to the floor. Not my child. The boy I had raised for nine years carried none of my blood. Then where was my child? I drove straight to the maternity hospital where Lilith had given birth. The obstetrician who had delivered my child was now head of the department. I went straight to the point. “Dr Roger, I need my wife’s full delivery file, charts, notes, everything.” Her smile faltered. “It’s been so long. Records are archived off-site.” After a while, the staff finally produced a thin manila folder. I flipped through it but found the records so brief, listing only the admission and discharge times, the mode of delivery, and the newborn’s weight. No labor progression sheet, no nursing hand-over, no pediatrician’s check. “That’s all?” She apologized. “I’m sorry, but paper records are only kept for ten years. Your wife’s is almost expired.” “What about footprints? Heel-prick blood card?” She shook her head. “Those should be in the neonatal records, but we couldn’t find them.” Obviously, something was off. A gaping hole where a life should have been documented. A son who looked like my wife and nothing like me. My phone buzzed. It was Lilith. “Where are you? I’ve already picked Zack up.” I had lost track of time. Luckily, I had told the teacher beforehand. “I’m running errands outside. Be home soon.” I hung up before she could ask more. After dinner, I lied to them, saying I had a migraine and escaped to the guest room. In the living room, Lilith was helping Zack with his homework. Their voices drifted faintly down the hall. “Mom, is Dad mad at me?” “He’s just tired. Finish your work and sleep.” When the house fell silent, I searched the entire place. Our bedroom, living room, Zack’s room, and everywhere else. Still, I got no clue. Finally, I shifted my gaze to the computer. I believed the truth was there for me to find. I was closing a document when Lilith appeared. “Still up?” “Clearing old files.” I turned off the monitor as I answered. She lingered for a moment, as if she wanted to say something. In the end, she only nodded. “Get some rest.” I sat in the dark, listening to her footsteps fade. That night, I didn’t open the computer again. My thoughts were a mess as I lay awake in bed. At dawn, I sent her to drop Zack off at school. She glanced at me and then complained to Zack. “See? Your dad’s just lazy. Good thing your mom spoils him.” The moment the gate clicked, I sprinted to the study. I opened the computer and typed in the possible password, our wedding anniversary. Password denied. Her birthday. Wrong. Zack’s birthday. Still wrong. I tried the date we first met, her mother’s birthday, even the company’s founding day. Still, nothing. The system prompted me to try again in fifteen minutes. I sat in the chair, staring at the screen. We had picked the computer together, but I didn’t have the access now. That night, Lilith came home, peeling off her coat. “I’m leaving for a business trip to Portle tomorrow. Not sure how long I’ll be gone.” I came out of the kitchen with a dish. “That’s so sudden. Who are you going with?” She placed her briefcase between us like a barrier, turning back at me. “It was arranged last minute. Hugh… can you not do this?”

I stared at her in silence, wondering why a casual question had caused such a strong reaction. “You always have to ask about everything, and suspect everyone. I’m just going to work.” I turned to serve the rice, my hand trembling slightly. “I’m just asking.” She didn’t respond, walking straight into the bedroom. Dinner was finished in silence. Zack seemed to sense something and, for once, didn’t pick at his food. After her shower, Lilith picked up her coat from the sofa to hang it up. A receipt fell from her pocket, landing at my feet. After she left, I picked it up and took a look. It was a receipt for an expensive perfume, purchased the previous afternoon. I had never heard of the perfume’s name, but I knew it wasn’t for me. In ten years of marriage, Lilith had never given me a gift. I used to make excuses for her, saying she wasn’t romantic and was too busy with work. Now it seemed she wasn’t incapable of romance; she just wasn’t romantic with me. I jotted down the information on the receipt. The next morning, as soon as Lilith left for the airport, I called the counter. “I’d like to check this invoice, yes, from yesterday afternoon.” “Just a moment. Got it. The purchaser is Mr. Stan Herbert.” Stan Herbert. The name rang a bell. Lilith’s secretary, a divorced man in his thirties, had been hired half a year ago. On my way to the airport, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to confirm. Maybe the perfume was for a client, or maybe I was just overthinking things. I waited outside the international departure hall for half an hour before I saw Lilith and him. Stan, in a beige trench coat and dragging a small suitcase, walked over with Lilith. Lilith’s face wore a relaxed smile I hadn’t seen in a long time. Then, in front of the security checkpoint, Stan stopped and reached out to adjust Lilith’s collar as if it were a habit. She didn’t flinch. He leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Lilith laughed, then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. Her hand lingered on his waist for a little while before they parted, as if it were second nature. The last shred of self-deception I clung to vanished in an instant. It turned out there was a reason for those late nights at work and the impatient looks she gave me. As I watched their intimate figures, suspicion began to gnaw at me. Could Zack have anything to do with this man? On my way back, I called the private detective I had hired a few days earlier. “Help me look into a man. Name’s Stan Herbert. I want to know everything about him, especially whether he has a child.” The detective moved fast. By the next afternoon, I received the report. Stan Herbert. Thirty-two. Divorced five years ago. Has a ten-year-old son. William Herbert. Studies at an elementary school in the west district. That date suddenly caught my eye. His son was born only one week after Zack. For the first time in ten years, I felt the blood rush to my head. I sat on the sofa, gripping the report. Then a thought struck me. I rushed into the study. My finger hovered over the keyboard before slowly typing in Stan’s birthday. The desktop unlocked. Only one folder sat there—“Work Backup.” I clicked on it, and inside were subfolders neatly organized by year, starting eleven years ago. The earliest folder contained scanned old photos. Lilith and Stan, in school uniforms, stood under a locust tree. Nineteen-year-old Lilith was smiling, her hand resting on his shoulder. Stan, with short hair, looked up at her. The next photo was from college, in the library. The one after that was their graduation photo, both in academic gowns, holding hands. That same year, Lilith told me the company was in trouble. We canceled our anniversary trip. I closed the folder, feeling a bit nauseous. A decade of deception. Looking at the wallpaper of our wedding photo on the screen, I felt a wave of disgust. At three in the afternoon, I drove to the west of the city. The primary school was even older than the detective had described. The school bell rang, and children poured out of the gate. I sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel. He walked out alone, with no one to pick him up. He looked around, then slowly made his way down the sidewalk. I held my breath. That child, William. No, he was my child. The way he walked was a bit like mine, with a slight pigeon-toed gait. When he raised his hand to adjust his hair, I saw a birthmark on his wrist, in the same spot as mine. I saw dust on his eyelashes, his lips a bit dry, and the edges of his shoes coming undone. His eyes were hollow, not like those of a ten-year-old. I covered my mouth to keep from making a sound. He walked away, disappearing around the corner. I broke down and cried, my face buried in the steering wheel. For that child walking home alone, for the ten years of misplaced life, and for living like a fool in a play arranged by others. Then I wiped my tears and started the car. In the law firm, I placed the USB drive in front of Mr. Stuart. It contained backups of all the photos, the paternity test report, scanned medical records, the perfume receipt, and information on Stan and William. “I want a divorce,” I said. “I want her out with nothing. I want custody of the child. And I want her to pay for what she’s done.” As I walked out of the law firm, I remembered what Lilith had said when she proposed ten years ago. “Hugh, I’ll give you a lifetime free of worries.” Turns out, her “lifetime” was only ten years. No, maybe even less. I took out my phone and called the company’s second-largest shareholder, my father’s old colleague. “Mr. Wince, about next week’s board meeting… there are a few things I’d like to discuss in advance.” Lilith must have forgotten. This company carries the Baker name.

She became the general manager because I had persuaded my father to give her a chance. I could elevate her, and I could also make her fall hard. Two weeks after Lilith left, I liquidated everything under my name that could be turned into cash. These days, I spent every afternoon near the primary school in the west of the city. One rainy day, he didn’t have an umbrella. After he waited under the eaves of the school’s convenience store for half an hour, he ran home in the rain. I sat in my car, the rain blurring the windows. On Friday afternoon, I arrived near the school early. When I saw William come out, I got out of the car and pretended to be a passerby. The folder in my hand “accidentally” dropped in front of him. He paused, then bent down to pick it up for me. “Thank you, little one. Is your mom not here yet?” He shook his head. “Mom’s working overtime today.” “So how will you get home?” “By bus,” he replied. I pulled out an unopened bottle of mineral water from my bag and handed it to him. “Have some water.” He hesitated for a moment, then took it and whispered. “Thank you.” I noticed he had a habit of pursing his lips when he spoke, just like me. His eyes were similar too, hidden double eyelids, with slightly downturned corners. “Does your mom often work overtime?” He nodded, then shook his head. “Yeah, sometimes.” “What about your dad?” He didn’t speak, just looked down at his shoes. The edges of his sneakers were fraying, and the shoelace on his left foot was broken. I didn’t ask further and took out two hundred dollars from my wallet, pressing it into his hand. “Poor kids. Do buy yourself a new pair of shoes.” He took a step back. “No Sir, I can’t accept it.” “Consider it a thank-you for helping me with the folder.” I told him, slipping the money into the side pocket of his school bag before walking away. After a few steps, I looked back. He looked a bit bewildered. That night, I stood at the door of Zack’s room. He was playing with the new Lego set Lilith had bought him, a limited-edition spaceship model that was quite expensive. “Dad? What’s wrong?” I went in and stroked his hair. “Did you finish your homework?” “I finished it early.” He showed me the model in his hands. “Mom said if I get into the top ten in the midterm exam, she’ll take me to Disneyland.” I smiled. “That’s great.” The moment I turned around, my smile disappeared. The different attitudes Lilith had towards the two boys felt like a thorn in my heart. My own son, wearing shoes with fraying edges, took the bus alone, while this child enjoyed everything. After a two-week business trip, Lilith finally came home. She put down her suitcase and asked directly. “Where’s Zack? Why is it so quiet?” “I enrolled him in a tutoring class. Two hours in the evening.” “Why? He’s only in the fourth grade.” I didn’t answer, but smelled the perfume on her. She came over to hug me, but I stepped aside. “Who did you have dinner with?” Her expression froze, and she became impatient. “Hugh, you’re being suspicious again. Can’t you stop this?” Suddenly, I found it laughable. Only now did I realize how poor her acting was. I took out an envelope from the drawer of the coffee table, slowly pulled out the photos, and laid them on the table. Lilith’s face turned gloomy. She picked up one of the photos and threw it back on the table. “Did you follow me?” “Does it matter?” I smiled. “What matters is, what would happen if these photos appeared at the board meeting, or were sent to your clients?” She collapsed onto the sofa opposite me, covering her face with her hands. “What do you want?” I stared at her, my voice flat. “First, fire Stan and ensure you never see him again. Second, tell me what happened at the hospital ten years ago.” She stood up, furious. “You’re crazy. Just because of a few photos?” My voice was cold. “Lilith, don’t forget that the company bears my family name. You have what you have today because of me. And I can take it back.” I almost softened, but I thought of William’s shoes with fraying edges, and of him waiting alone for the rain to stop. “For the sake of ten years of marriage and our child, as long as you do as I say, we can continue this life. After all, we still have Zack.” I said, turning and going to the bedroom to get a document, handing it to her. A cancer diagnosis report.

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When I reached the hospital, my in-laws were already at death’s door. The doctor said the snake was extremely rare, and the hospital had no antidote. Only my wife’s company did. I called Laura again and again. Every call was rejected. On the hundredth attempt, she finally answered. “It’s Lucas’s birthday tonight,” she said impatiently. “I’ll stay with him for the night. Stop being like this.” My mind raced with the faces in the ER. I swallowed my anger and forced the words out. “Your parents and sister too, were bitten by a snake.” “The hospital doesn’t have the serum, only your company does. Just bring it here, please.” Before I could finish, Laura cut me off. Her tone was mocking and cold, full of sharp edges. “One vial costs over a hundred grand. Ethan, have you and your family no shame?” “Your whole family gets bitten, and do you have any idea how much it costs to save them all? I’m not a fool.” “Go figure that out yourself.” She hung up and blocked me. I slumped into a hospital chair, stunned. My head felt heavy from being pressed by those words, which I never thought I would hear from her mouth. Then a message from the Vacheron Constantin assistant, she told me the watch my parents prepared for my birthday had been collected by my wife. No need to guess. It was already on Lucas Reed’s wrist. This was not the first time. Taking my things and handing them to her haunting-crush like it was nothing. Every time I protested, she just laughed. “You’re married. Who’s even gonna notice an expensive watch on you? Give it to Lucas. He’s busy with deals.” “Don’t be so petty. Lucas is like my own brother. If you love me, then you have to accept it.” She put Lucas above everything, this man was her world. Watches, cars, houses—she gave them all. It was as if she’d take out her own heart and stamp his name on it. And me—her true husband— couldn’t even get a few doses of life-saving medicine. Ridiculous. I was typing to the assistant when Laura posted online: “The most handsome watch, for the one I love most. Tonight belongs to us.” Lucas posted right after: “I’ll be the knight who protects his princess forever. Your medicine didn’t just save my family—it saved my heart.” In the photo, they were leaning so close together, grinning like the world was theirs. My watch is on Lucas’s wrist. The antidote I begged for was in his hand. He smiled like a champion—and yes, he always was. I was seething with anger, almost collapsing. How can she be this heartless? She threw fortunes at Lucas to please him. while leaving her own family to die. The doctor walked out of the ER. I ran toward him. “Please, give me more time! I’ll get the cure!” But he shook his head and took off his mask. “It’s too late. I’m sorry.”

My nose burned. The pain rushed up all at once. Just hours ago, they were still talking and laughing. Now they lay cold in a hospital morgue, lifeless and silent. And their daughter was still out there, celebrating with joy, pretending nothing had happened. How disgusting. I swallowed my tears and messaged the sales assistant. “I never had anyone pick up the watch. Someone must have taken it under my name. Please report this to the police immediately.” The doctor said the snake was almost extinct here, and that was why the hospital had no antidote. What a coincidence. A rare snake inside their tent. Five people bitten. Five deaths. The police took it quite seriously. The investigation moved fast. It didn’t take long to uncover the truth—someone had bought venomous snakes in bulk online and released them. The suspects were actually Lucas Reed’s parents. The family she had rushed to save. The very people who wiped out hers. I wondered how she’d look when the truth finally caught up with her. The officer explained gently, “Sir, we’ve confirmed the situation. But the suspects are currently hospitalized and can’t be questioned yet.” I replied flatly, “They were bitten too. But their poison’s already been neutralized.” “They can take the questioning, just go ahead.” He gave me a puzzled look, clearly wondering how I knew. But seeing how drained I looked, he didn’t ask more. “Rest assured,” he said. “We’ll find out what really happened.” After they left, I started to prepare a lawsuit. Then a sudden call cut in. It’s Laura. She sounded furious. “Ethan, are you picking a fight on purpose?” “I’m your wife. What’s wrong with me picking up a watch for you?” “How can you call the police?”—were you bitten too? Or did you lose your mind?” The accusations came fast and sharp, one after another. She didn’t spare a second to care how I was feeling at the moment. I replied calmly. “It’s indeed a problem. Because I never saw the watch.” “You said you picked it up. Fine. Then tell me—where is it now?” Silence, a long silence. We stayed like that for a while. Then her tone softened. “We are a couple, what’s yours is mine anyway.” “Lucas wanted a limited-edition watch. There’s only one of this edition in the country.” “And it happened to be his birthday. I just wanted him to be happy.” “It looks perfect on him. Giving brings joy. Don’t be so petty.” The shamelessness was breathtaking. I snapped back without hesitation. “You actually have the nerve to say that? Why didn’t you pay for it yourself?” “How useless you are?” Laura froze for a moment, disbelief cracking her voice. “You dare say that again?” “Are you crazy?” I almost laughed out. I used to guard her pride as if it were my inborn duty and choose every word carefully. Now I see it clearly—she was just utterly shameless. I didn’t give her a chance to argue. “If you have a tiny little bit of conscience,” I said coldly, “come to the hospital now.” “Come and see what you’ve done.” “They’re already dead!” she shouted. “What difference would it make if I go?” “It’s a good day—don’t screw it!” Then she added, casually, “Don’t cremate your parents yet. See if you can send the bodies to my company, we need cadavers for research.” “Oh—and Lucas’s parents had an accident. He’s not doing well; I’m going to stay with him.” Then she hung up. I found it so ridiculous that I lost my voice. So she thought the dead were my family. I had originally planned to lay her parents to rest as soon as possible. Since it was what she wanted, I ordered five industrial freezers. I took the bodies out of the morgue and shipped them straight to her company..

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Five years after leaving the country, I returned to attend Mrs. Sterling’s birthday gala at the Plaza. My former fiancée Sierra Sterling—the childhood sweetheart I’d been engaged to since we were eight—pulled out a custom-designed Tom Ford tuxedo and proposed to me in front of everyone. The ballroom erupted. Gasps. Whispers. Champagne flutes frozen mid-air. They all expected me to fall to my knees in tears of joy. Say yes. Beg her to take me back. After all, I’d loved Sierra Sterling with the kind of desperate, embarrassing devotion that became Manhattan society legend. But they seemed to have forgotten something. Five years ago, at our wedding, she ripped the custom Armani suit off my body in front of three hundred guests. Stomped on it with her Louboutins. For another man. She publicly accused me of academic fraud. Scientific misconduct. Patent theft. The wedding was canceled. I stood there in front of everyone—judged, mocked, destroyed. That day, I left for Europe alone. But now that I’m back, Mrs. Sterling grips my shoulder with her perfectly manicured hand and says: “Ethan, Sierra missed you terribly these past five years. Even after what you did, she never forgot you.” “After you left, she spent a fortune burying those scandals. If you’re willing to give her another chance, the Sterling family will give you an even grander wedding than before.” — “Ethan Quinn, will you marry me?” When I don’t answer, Sierra repeats her proposal. Voice dripping with manufactured emotion. Mrs. Sterling watches me with expectant eyes. Like I’m a charity case who should be grateful. I thought seeing Sierra again would make me angry. But standing here, looking at her holding that tuxedo like a peace offering, I feel… nothing. Absolutely nothing. The ballroom falls silent. Eyes boring into me. Some curious. Most waiting for the drama. When I left New York five years ago, I never came back. They don’t know I’m married. That I have a daughter. So I don’t know if Sierra orchestrated this public proposal herself—or if she’s planning to humiliate me again for sport. A flash of mockery crosses my expression, but I keep my face polite. Detached. “Thank you for the honor, Miss Sterling. I was young and foolish back then. I don’t have those feelings anymore.” The room explodes. “WHAT? He rejected her? Is he insane?” “Didn’t he literally beg her to marry him for years? Now she’s proposing and he said NO?” Everyone stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. Because five years ago, I did more than a few foolish things for Sierra Sterling. I made waves that rippled through all of Manhattan’s elite circles. Like the time I spent nine million dollars on fireworks at the Brooklyn Bridge. Spelled out “SIERRA STERLING” in the sky for her birthday. Or when I hired drones to fly over Times Square for an entire month, displaying “SIERRA & ETHAN” on continuous loop. Two weeks before our wedding, I bought every digital billboard in Manhattan. Had our engagement photos rotating 24/7. At twenty-five, I loved her like a man possessed. Wanted the whole world to witness our perfect love story. Never imagined she’d betray me. After all, this was Sierra Sterling. My first constant. My childhood promise. She learned my name before she learned most words. Learned how to spell “Ethan” long before she cared about spelling her own. Growing up, she was always just… there. Reminding me to take care of myself. Quietly fixing the things I forgot. Folding my shirts without being asked, like it was simply part of loving me. For twenty years, we were closer than siblings. More in sync than most married couples. Even when I became the notoriously strict Professor Quinn at MIT, with her I was still the little boy who called her “Sierra Bear” and chased her around with flowers. Always tender. Always devoted. Always hers. The year our love burned brightest, we stood at the Love Lock Bridge in Paris and vowed to be together forever. I believed love like ours was eternal. Until one month before the wedding, when Liam Carter was brought into the Sterling household as their ward.

Supposedly he was the orphaned son of Mr. Sterling’s old army buddy. His father had saved Mr. Sterling’s life, so they took Liam in out of obligation. At first, Sierra and I were both kind to him. I even took him to Knicks games and taught him to golf. But somehow, somewhere along the way, Sierra started spending more and more time with Liam. She started bringing him on our dates. Our private dinners for two became dinners for three. On Valentine’s Day, Sierra promised to come with me for the final fitting of the custom tuxedo she’d designed for our wedding. I called her a hundred times. Waited in our penthouse for two hours. All I got was a text: “Something came up. Rain check.” Frustrated, I went to the tailor alone. And found Liam Carter standing there wearing MY custom tuxedo. Sierra adjusting his collar. Her cousins circling him like vultures, calling him “brother-in-law.” Their praise and laughter made it seem like Liam and Sierra were the engaged couple. And I was the outsider. Rage and humiliation burned through me. My vision went red. “Do you even remember I’m your fiancé?” I demanded, voice shaking. Sierra finally looked up from Liam. No guilt. No shame. Just… annoyance. “I told you something came up. Why are you here?” “Can you stop being so paranoid and jealous all the time? You’re acting pathetic. Like a child.” I’m Ethan Quinn. Son of Wall Street legend Marcus Quinn. MIT’s youngest tenured professor. I don’t take disrespect from ANYONE. “Sierra Sterling, who gave you permission to talk to me like that?” “Your ‘something’ was spending time with Liam? Making him wear MY tuxedo?” My voice cracked. By the time I finished speaking, I’d crushed my phone screen in my fist without realizing it. Sierra instinctively grabbed my bleeding hand. But her tone was still accusatory. “Ethan, stop making a scene. You always do this. I’m tired of placating you.” “I just had Liam try on the tux for sizing. Why are you throwing a tantrum over something so small?” I was so shocked I forgot to respond.

Sierra Sterling was lecturing me. Blaming me. For twenty years, no matter what I did, she never said a harsh word to me. Spoiled me rotten. But now she’s calling me unreasonable in front of all these people. Like she’s forgotten that she’s the one who MADE me this way. My silence stretches too long. Sierra’s expression softens with regret. “Ethan, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” “But you accused me without knowing the full story. That hurt.” I force myself to stay calm. Decide to hear her explanation. “Then explain. Why did you cancel on me today?” Sierra soothes me by squeezing my fingers. Kisses my cheek. Then launches into her story: “Ethan, didn’t you notice the sapphire cufflinks on the tux came loose? The original technique wasn’t securing them properly, so I switched to a new method. I needed a model to test if they’d hold, but my usual model canceled. So I grabbed Liam as a last-minute substitute.” Her tone is earnest. Gentle. It sounds… reasonable. My anger cools. But I’m still not satisfied. “Then what about your cousins calling him ‘brother-in-law’?” “Oh, Ethan.” Sierra rolls her eyes playfully. “You’re so spoiled. My cousin was talking about getting a tux FOR the brother-in-law—meaning YOU. You’re taking it out of context.” She puts on a wounded expression, teasing me with her eyes. I’m already embarrassed about my outburst. Now I just want to grab her hand and leave. But before I can touch her, Liam steps between us. Trembling. Eyes wide with fake fear. “Ethan… this is all my fault. I offered to be Sierra’s model. Please… hit me if you want. Just don’t be angry at her.” Liam stares at me like a kicked puppy. The people around us glare at me like I’m a monster. Even Sierra reaches out to comfort Liam while gently suggesting I leave. Later, Liam bought me an expensive watch as an apology. Mrs. Sterling came to our penthouse to explain everything personally. But something felt off. They were apologizing to me, sure. But their words were laced with protectiveness toward Liam. “Ethan, you know Liam is the son of the man who saved my husband’s life. His father is gone now, and Liam’s alone. We have to take care of him.” “Besides, the Carter family saved us. Liam is part of our family now. If he gets mistreated here, people will talk.” Sierra nodded along eagerly. “Exactly, Ethan. Liam’s young. We should be looking out for him.” “Plus, you’re about to marry me. You’ll be his brother-in-law soon. Why fight with a family?” What could I say to that? Sierra looked so sincere. I let it go. Sierra smiled. Took an emerald ring from a velvet box and slid it onto my finger. “There. Is Mr. Quinn done being grumpy now?” I felt the warmth of her touch and finally relaxed. I handed her a folder. “Sterling Industries wants to expand into tech, right? This is my latest research from MIT…” Before I could finish, Sierra threw herself into my arms. “Ethan, I love you!” Her enthusiasm made me blush. I was so focused on our future together. I didn’t realize her love wasn’t exclusive. That it was quietly shifting toward Liam Carter.

Her Instagram became a shrine to Liam. Photos of them together every single day. Rumors started spreading through Manhattan’s elite circles: The Quinn-Sterling engagement was off. The Sterling family was planning to marry Sierra to their ward instead. I heard the whispers and wanted to confront the Sterlings immediately. But before I could, Liam showed up at my MIT office. Gone was the scared, timid boy from a week ago. Now his expression dripped with smug satisfaction. “Ethan, you’ve heard the rumors, right? That’s not just the Sterling family’s intention. It’s Sierra’s too.” “If you don’t want to embarrass yourself, cancel the engagement.” I clenched my fists to control my rage. I’d promised Sierra I’d be patient with Liam. But Liam misread my silence as weakness. His smile widened. “Still in denial, Ethan? Don’t worry. You’ll see Sierra’s choice soon enough.” I snapped. My fist connected with his jaw. “Get out.” Liam stumbled backward, shocked that I’d actually hit him. He fled. Furious, I opened my phone and sent Sierra the audio recording of Liam’s taunts. Waited for her to apologize. But instead of apologizing, she questioned me. “Ethan, is there some misunderstanding?” “Liam’s always been kind and thoughtful. He’d never do this. Are you sure someone didn’t trick you?” I stared at the screen in disbelief. Twenty years of history. Audio evidence. And she still chose to believe Liam over me. She doubted ME for a kid she’d known less than a month. I threw my phone across the room. Decided I was done trying. That night, Sierra flew five hours from a conference in London to New York just to smooth things over. When I saw her exhausted face at my door, I couldn’t turn her away. The moment I opened the door, she kissed me. Deep and desperate. We didn’t pull apart until we were both breathless. “Ethan, I only see Liam as a brother. I’d never have feelings for him. You believe me, right?” “But he’s my father’s savior’s son. There are things I can’t control. You understand, don’t you?” “Besides, we’re getting married next week. You wouldn’t abandon me now… would you?” She looked up at me with those wide, pleading eyes. So careful. So vulnerable. My resolve crumbled. I chose to believe her unconditionally. I didn’t know that trust wasn’t mutual. That she was about to push me into hell with her own hands.

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The first day of Royal Pack Academy entrance exams was over, and Gavin wouldn’t shut up about how Roxy—that rogue girl he’d met at some club was planned to “celebrate his coming of age.” He was actually going to accept it. The guy who’d spent three years obsessing over his Trial scores was about to throw it all away for a quick fuck. Earlier this morning, I’d been drinking coffee at the pack diner when I overheard Roxy and her friends at the next booth. “Tonight, I’m gonna wreck that virgin boy scout so bad, he won’t be able to stand tomorrow. Forget the Trials—he’ll be lucky if he can crawl to the arena.” In my last life, I’d desperately tried to stop Gavin from going. Begged him not to throw away his future. Got down on my knees and pleaded with him to think about what he was doing. Gavin’s response? “Selene, this is Roxy’s gift to me. Just because you’re too much of a prude to have fun doesn’t mean you get to cockblock my happiness.” I’d been so worried about his future that I’d told his parents everything. They locked him in his room. Dragged him to the Trials the next day like a prisoner. He passed. Got into the Royal Pack Academy. But Roxy’s plan fell apart. She got wasted, and some assholes jumped her in the alley behind the club. They found her body two days later. Gavin lost his mind. He blamed me for everything. Said I’d ruined his life. Taken away his “soulmate.” A month before Academy started, he invited me over to “talk things out.” I thought maybe we could fix things. We’d been friends since we were kids, after all. Gavin drugged my drink. When I woke up in that alley with three rogue wolves holding me down, Gavin was standing at the entrance. Watching and making sure no one interrupted. They destroyed me. My parents couldn’t handle the shame and whispers. They took wolfsbane together one night, holding hands. That bastard filmed it. Stood outside our house with his phone out, recording my parents’ final moments like it was entertainment. He brought the video to the hospital where I was recovering. Made me watch every second. “Your parents are paying for what you did to Roxy,” he’d said, grinning. “And you’re next.” I jumped from the hospital roof that night. The last thing I saw was Gavin’s smile.

“Yo, Selene, you having a stroke or something?” Gavin’s voice snapped me back to the present. He was glaring at me, annoyed. “Can you stop being so weird every time I mention another girl? It’s pathetic.” I looked down at my unmarked skin, my legs that actually worked, exactly as they’d been before everything went to hell. I was alive and breathing. I was back at the beginning—the day before everything went to hell. Gavin’s friend Travis jumped in, trying to smooth things over. “Cut her some slack, man. Selene’s scared to have fun. She’s probably just jealous that Roxy’s got you wrapped around her finger.” Gavin’s face flushed. He couldn’t help himself—had to brag. “Roxy said she’s got a surprise for me tonight.” He elbowed Travis. “Getting to celebrate my eighteenth birthday with a smoking hot girl like Roxy? Tomorrow I’m gonna perform even better than usual!” I almost laughed. This morning, I’d heard exactly what Roxy’s “surprise” entailed. “Tonight I’m gonna ‘take care of’ that virgin boy scout real good. None of you better interrupt!” “But he’s got the Trials tomorrow…” “The Trials?” Roxy’s laugh was cruel and mocking. “Why would my little plaything need to worry about that? Once he gets into some Royal Academy, you think he’ll even remember me?” So that was her idea of a “coming-of-age celebration.” It wasn’t a celebration at all. She was planning to destroy Gavin’s entire future. In my last life, I’d nearly killed myself trying to stop this from happening. And all it got me was my family’s destruction. So this life… Looking at how excited Gavin was, I slowly raised my head. A cold smile spread across my face. “You should go, Gavin. With a ‘beauty’ like Roxy to celebrate with, I’m sure you’ll ‘perform exceptionally well’ tomorrow.” Gavin froze. Blinked at me like I’d just spoken in tongues. Then Travis broke the silence with a nervous laugh. “Uh… did Selene just give you permission to hook up with someone else? Bro, I think she’s finally over you.” Gavin’s face twisted, but before he could respond, I grabbed my bag and stood up. “Wait.” His hand shot out, slamming down on my Trial Pass—the official pass needed to enter the Trials arena. “Where are you going?” I stared at his hand. “Home. To rest for tomorrow.” “Yeah?” Gavin snatched the permit off the desk, holding it above his head. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until I’m sure you’re not gonna run crying to my parents like last time.” My jaw tightened. “Gavin, give it back.” “Or what?” He smirked. “You need this to get into the arena tomorrow, don’t you? What if I just… kept it safe for you? You know, so you don’t ‘lose’ it or anything.” I forced down my anger, trying to sound helpless and reasonable. “Gavin, you know what the Trials mean to me. I promise I won’t tell your parents anything. Just please don’t mess with my future.” But even as I said it, I knew the truth—Gavin probably wouldn’t even make it to the arena tomorrow. There was no way I could let him keep my permit. Thinking about how he’d destroyed my life in my previous timeline, I suddenly lunged forward at Gavin.

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Our family only had enough money to send one person to college. Ma and Pa made us flip a coin to decide. Before the coin even landed, I tore up my acceptance letter. “Ma, Pa—I’ll stay home. Let Caleb go to college.” Because in my last life, I won that coin toss and made it to university. There, I ran into Sarah—the girl next door from when we were kids. We fell in love. Got married. Had a baby. But back home, Caleb lasted less than three years before he was accused of sleeping with Mrs. Higgins, the Mayor’s wife. Unable to bear the rumors, Caleb downed a bottle of poison. Before he died, he wrote Sarah a letter. He said I’d rigged the coin flip. That I’d destroyed his life. After that, Sarah’s attitude toward me changed completely. That’s when I realized—they’d been having an affair all along. On our tenth wedding anniversary, she poisoned my dinner and dragged me to Caleb’s grave. “I was supposed to meet Caleb! You destroyed him! You destroyed me!” “Why weren’t you the one accused? Why weren’t you the one who died?” She forced me to kneel and beg forgiveness at his headstone. She spread rumors that I was an abuser, a cheater—ruined my reputation—then poured poison down my throat. “Every sin you made Caleb suffer, I’m making you suffer twice over!” I thought of our child—not even three years old yet—and begged her to spare me for the sake of our marriage. But she just watched me convulse, watched me suffocate, until there was nothing left. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the coin flip. This time, I gave up college. And I gave up Sarah. — “Ma, Pa—I’ll stay home. Let Caleb go to college.” Ma, Pa, and Caleb all stared at me in shock. “Are you serious? You know how hard you worked for this. You’re just gonna throw it away?” I took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m serious. Let Caleb go.” They stared at me for a long moment, then sighed and accepted my decision. I climbed down from the bunk bed. Suddenly, we heard Mrs. Dixon’s voice from outside. “Hey! Someone from out of town’s here looking for you!” Before Pa could even get up, the door burst open. A girl rushed in, her eyes locked on Caleb like he was the only person in the room. She threw herself into his arms. It was Sarah. Her voice was choked with emotion, like she was holding onto something she’d lost once before. “I made it. I made it in time.” She turned to my stunned parents, her voice urgent. “Mr. and Mrs. Harper—I’m here to keep my promise. I’m here to marry Caleb.” Ma and Pa blinked in confusion, then squinted at her, trying to place her face. “You’re… Old man Westbrook’s daughter? My God, look how grown up you are!” Sarah grabbed Caleb’s hand and nodded. “I’ve loved Caleb since we were kids. Please let me be with him.” Before Ma and Pa could respond, Sarah snapped her fingers. A crew of people started hauling boxes and bags into the house. “This is my dowry. Once Caleb and I are married, we’ll move to the city together. He’ll go to college, and I’ll take care of everything.” I stood frozen, watching it all unfold. Sarah had been reborn too. I lowered my eyes, hiding my shock. “Sarah—” Before I could finish, she whipped around and glared at me with pure hatred. “Don’t even think about it, Ethan. I’d rather marry a homeless man—a criminal—than ever be with you.” “I’m watching you. You won’t pull any tricks this time.” Ma cleared her throat, confused. “Ethan already gave up his spot. He tore up his acceptance letter.” Sarah froze. Disbelief flashed across her face. “What kind of scheme are you running now?” Pa pointed to the shredded paper on the floor. “He’s not lying. Look—he tore the damn thing to pieces.” Sarah followed his gesture and saw the torn letter scattered on the ground. For a moment, she looked genuinely shocked. But she recovered quickly, muttering under her breath: “Fine. At least you’ve got some conscience left.” Then she turned back to Caleb, clinging to his arm and cooing sweetly: “I’m so happy, Caleb. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” Hearing that soft, affectionate voice made my hands tremble. In my past life, Sarah only ever used that tone with me. Every time she did, I felt like I’d die for her if she asked. “Caleb, baby, come help me pick out stuff for the wedding!” Without waiting for an answer, Sarah dragged Caleb toward the door. As she passed me, she paused, gave me an unreadable look, then left. After they were gone, Ma and Pa sighed and said they were heading out to work. I stopped them. “Ma, Pa—I’m thinking of leaving. Going out of state to find work. It’ll help ease the burden on you.” This meant I’d be gone for a long time. We wouldn’t see each other much. Pa took a drag from his hand-rolled cigarette and sighed. “If that’s what you want, go ahead. We’re too old to tell you boys what to do anymore.” They left without another word. No sadness. No goodbyes. That’s how they’d always been. They didn’t do emotions. But I knew the truth. Between me and Caleb, they’d always favored me. In my last life, they knew how badly I wanted to go to college. So they rigged the coin flip to make sure I won.

Before it got dark, I headed into town to pick up some supplies for the trip. That’s when I ran into Sarah and Caleb. They were shopping for wedding decorations. In my past life, Sarah and I got married in the city. Because it was a once-in-a-lifetime event, I saved up and bought the most expensive ring and make her a custom wedding dress. But when I showed it to her, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “What century are we in? You seriously expect me to wear this old-fashioned crap?” “My dad just got reinstated as a judge. There are going to be important people at our wedding. You think I’m gonna let them see me in this?” But now—now—I watched her gush over cheap polyester ribbon like it was spun gold. She looked so damn happy. My chest ached like I’d chugged a gallon of vinegar. The sight of them together—smiling, touching—felt like needles in my eyes. I turned to leave. “Ethan! Wait up!” Caleb called out to me. He had his arm around Sarah’s waist as they walked over, grinning like he’d won the lottery. “You shopping too? Hey, listen—Sarah and I set a date. Three days from now. You better be there.” “I’m leaving for work soon. I might not make it—” “What are you talking about? You’re my brother. You have to come.” Caleb clapped me on the shoulder, half-joking: “If you don’t show up, I’m slaughtering Buster and serving him at the reception.” My eyes went wide. Buster was our old dog—ancient, loyal. He’d been with our family for over a decade. Ma and Pa always said Buster worked his whole life for us. Killing him would be cruel. He deserved to retire in peace. Buster and I were close. When he got sick, he’d only eat if I was the one feeding him. I used to come home from school and see him waiting for me at the edge of the property, every single day. I’d loved that dog like family. I forced myself to nod. “Fine. I’ll be there.” I didn’t want to stay another second. I turned to leave. But Caleb blocked my path, grinning. “Hey, Ethan—Ma and Pa always liked you more. They even gave you the token from Sarah’s family—the one from when we were kids, you know, the ‘engagement’ thing.” “Now that Sarah and I are getting married… I’m gonna need that back.” I froze. I’d worn it for years. It felt wrong to give it up. I opened my mouth to say something, but Caleb cut me off: “You’re not gonna say no, are you?” His voice dropped, taking on an edge. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Because Sarah’s marrying me instead of you?” “You’re my brother. I’ve always given you everything you wanted. But Sarah’s different.” “We’re in love. She’s all I have…” Sarah’s expression went ice-cold. She lunged forward and ripped off my necklace. The cord snapped. Pain shot through my throat. I gasped, and when I touched the back of my neck, my hand came away slick with blood. “I knew it. You’re pathetic. You’d even try to keep a stupid charm?” I looked up at her, my voice shaking. “I’m not being greedy. Sarah’s dad wrote me a letter once. He gave this to me—” The memory of my father-in-law—the only one who treated me like a son—made my throat tighten. In my last life, after Sarah killed me, he was the only one who kept digging into my death. When he found out the truth, he disowned her. This life, I’d never see him again. “Stop lying! You think I don’t know what kind of person you are?!” My throat burned. I tried to explain, but the words died in my mouth. What was the point? She’d never believe me. Sarah held out the necklace, her voice hard and commanding. “Apologize to Caleb. Then put it on him yourself.” I took a shaky breath, my voice barely audible. “You want me to apologize?” “Yes. Consider it your chance to atone.” I closed my eyes. Swallowed the tears. “Fine. I’m sorry.” “Caleb… this is my fault.” I bowed deeply. Caleb’s eyes glinted with satisfaction. When I straightened, he put on a fake sympathetic face and pulled me upright. “Sarah’s just protective of me, man. She didn’t mean it. Don’t take it personally.” “You’re my brother. I’m not actually mad at you.” He turned his back to me, waiting for me to fasten necklace around his neck. I reached up and started tying it. But before I could finish, Caleb suddenly lurched forward. His face went red. His voice came out strangled: “Ethan—let go—I can’t breathe—” I immediately released the cord. Before I could check if he was okay, Sarah slapped me so hard I hit the ground. Caleb clutched his throat, his eyes wide with shock, his voice hoarse: “Ethan… I’m your brother. You’d really try to strangle me over a girl?” “Fine. Fine. I won’t marry her. I won’t go to college. I’ll give you everything—just don’t kill me.” His voice was loud. People started gathering, whispering. “Did you see that? He tried to kill his own brother!” “Probably jealous. His brother’s smart, good-looking, about to marry a rich girl…” “Keeping a stupid necklace for himself—what kind of person does that? He should be ashamed.” I ignored the crowd, ignored Caleb’s smug expression. I just bent down and picked the necklace out of the dirt. Sarah walked over and stepped on my hand, grinding her heel into my fingers. Pain shot up my arm. She leaned down, her breath warm against my ear, her voice soft and venomous: “Don’t try anything clever, Ethan. I hate you. Even if Caleb didn’t exist, I’d never choose you.” “And if you want to taste poison again… keep pushing me.”

Sarah pulled Caleb away, leaving me kneeling in the dirt. I lifted my mangled hand and carefully wiped the mud off the necklace. The pain in my hand was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. I slipped the necklace into my pocket and whispered: “I’m sorry, Mr. Westbrook. I’m breaking my promise.” When I got home, Ma and Pa were already asleep. Only Caleb was still up, sitting at the table. He smiled at me. “You’re back late. Come on, I saved you some dinner.” He pushed a pot of stew toward me. The smell of meat hit my nose, but dread twisted in my gut. I looked at Caleb’s face—that barely-hidden smirk—and my chopsticks clattered to the floor. I stood up and bolted toward the barn. “Don’t bother,” Caleb called after me. “That is Buster.” He pushed the pot closer. “Poor old guy was too tough to chew. I couldn’t finish it. You should eat up, though.” His voice echoed in my ears. The smell of meat made my stomach lurch. I doubled over and vomited until there was nothing left. Caleb watched me, satisfied. “I know you’re leaving for the city soon. No one’ll be around to take care of an old dog. Figured we might as well put him to use. Give you a good send-off. Thought I’d do something nice for you, you know?” I clenched my fists, my eyes burning red, my voice raw: “Why? I gave you the college fund. I gave you everything. Why are you doing this to me?” “We’re brothers!” Caleb’s smile vanished. His face went cold. “Hah. You’ve got some nerve asking me that. You think I don’t know? Ma and Pa rigged the coin flip. Both sides said ‘stay home.’” “You know what I went through? Mrs. Higgins tried to sleep with me. When I said no, she told everyone I raped her.” “The Mayor and his guys beat me so bad they broke my spine. I couldn’t walk. Couldn’t control my bladder. I was a cripple.” “You know what it’s like to lie in bed and watch your legs rot? To get bedsores so deep you can see bone? Maggots crawling in the wounds?” “But you? You got a career. A government job. A Senator’s daughter for a wife. All of that should’ve been mine.” His voice dropped to a hiss. “So this time, you’re going to suffer everything I did. Watching you in pain is the only thing that’ll make me feel better.” I stood there, stunned. I’d loved this kid his whole life. And he hated me this much. “You were reborn too. You know I didn’t know about the coin flip.” “I didn’t know what would happen to you. If I had, I would’ve given you the spot.” “Caleb—just tell me. What did you say in that letter? The one you sent Sarah before you died?” Caleb smirked. “Oh, you wanna know?” He stepped closer, leaning in like he was about to tell me a secret. “I told her—” Suddenly, he threw himself forward—right into the pot of scalding stew. The hot liquid splashed all over his arm. He screamed. Before I could react, someone rushed in and smashed a shovel into the back of my skull. Once. Twice. Three times. My vision blurred. My head throbbed. Warm blood poured down my face, turning everything red. I couldn’t hear what Sarah was yelling at me. I just saw her scoop cold water from the bucket and pour it over Caleb’s burned arm. The world went quiet. Then I felt it—a rope tightening around my neck. The air disappeared. My face turned purple. I kicked weakly, my body too weak to fight. My vision went dark. I let my hands drop. Maybe it’d be better to just die here. But then Caleb grabbed Sarah’s arm and pulled her off me. Air rushed back into my lungs. I gasped, desperate, greedy. Sarah’s voice was ice-cold in my ear. “I warned you. I killed you once. I can kill you again. And again.” “I was going to let you live. But now?” She grabbed my hair and slammed my face into the floor in front of Caleb.

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The night before Regionals, my roommate announced she was going to the abandoned camp by the lake with Jax to blow off some steam. I spent twenty minutes telling her it was a bad idea. The access road flooded after rain. The docks were rotted through. There was no cell signal past the tree line. I pulled her back into the dorm room and kept her there. She made weigh-in the next morning. The team took first at Regionals. Two months later her Penn letter came in. Mine came too. Yale, full ride, cheer recruit. But at the senior banquet that summer, she and Jax drugged my drink and drove me out to that camp. They walked me down to the old waterfront and pushed me into one of the storage pits behind the boathouse. The ones that used to hold equipment. Deep enough that I couldn’t pull myself out. Chloe stood at the edge and looked down at me. “You had to get involved,” she said. “Jax missed his connect that night because of you. You know what that cost him?” She crouched at the rim. Pulled out her phone and took a photo of me down there. “This is going in the group chat. I’ll caption it later.” Then she stood up and dragged the wooden cover halfway over the top with her foot. “Have fun, Carter.” Jax kicked the rest of it shut. I was in there for three days. No signal. No one came. By the time someone found me, my heart had already stopped. That’s how I died. In the dark. Twenty feet from a working road. Then I opened my eyes and the dorm ceiling was over me again. The clock on my phone said the night before Regionals. This time, I put down my pen and went to my dresser. Bug spray. A box of condoms. I set them on the edge of her bed while she was spraying dry shampoo into her hair, already wearing the black lace top she saved for Jax’s parties. “Have fun,” I said. “Watch out for the splinters on the dock.” She wasn’t my problem anymore. Chloe picked up the condoms and dropped them into her bag without looking at me. She grabbed the bug spray, twisted the cap and ran it up her shins twice. “Thanks.” She slung the bag over her shoulder, cracked the door, listened, and slipped out into the hallway. I heard her sneakers go quiet down the hall and then the stairwell door swing shut. I waited a minute. Then I unlocked the door and left it on the latch. She could go wherever she wanted. I picked up my phone and texted her: “I’ll leave the door for you.” She replied in under a minute. “don’t wait up lol, back before you know~” I screenshotted it. Last time I hadn’t kept anything. This time I wasn’t leaving gaps. I set my competition bag, my warm-ups, and my taped wrists by the door and checked everything twice. Outside, the insects were loud. June ran thick and close in this part of Ohio, the kind of heat that sat in your throat at night. I turned off the light. All I could see was dirt. Handful after handful, filling my mouth, my nose, the inside of my eyelids. Chloe at the edge of the pit, looking down. Still smiling. Phone up. “Ellie,” she said. “You should have stayed out of it.” Then the cover came down. I sat up hard. The dorm ceiling was white and flat. The clock on my phone said 1:42 AM. I got up and drank some water. It was fine. This time, I wasn’t the one going into the pit. My alarm went off at six-thirty. I looked at her bed first. Untouched. Pillow still centered. The morning came through the open window smelling like cut grass and lake water. Chloe hadn’t come back. I already knew she wouldn’t. I washed my face, pulled my hair into a high pony, taped my wrists, got dressed, went downstairs and bought a coffee and a muffin from the cart outside the dining hall. The bus to Regionals was already loading. Parents holding signs. Coach Daniels by the door with her clipboard, hair still wet from the shower. My mom didn’t come. She was on shift at the warehouse and couldn’t get the day off. She’d called the night before. “I believe in you,” she said. “Just do your best out there.” I told her I would. The team was on the bus. I climbed up the steps. Twelve girls in matching warm-ups. The empty seat was three rows back. Chloe’s seat. Bag still there from yesterday’s practice. No Chloe. Coach Daniels was on her phone, walking up and down the aisle, the muscle in her jaw working. “Chloe Crawford?” Her voice came down the bus. No answer. “Has anyone heard from Chloe Crawford?” Nobody had. She circled something on her clipboard, checked her watch, and told the driver to go. The bus pulled out. I sat by the window with my hands folded in my lap. Last time my hands shook the whole bus ride. I missed two stunts in the first round. Lost my spot on the pyramid. Came home with nothing. This time, my hands were steady. You don’t get nervous about a competition after you’ve already died once. We hit the floor at noon. I nailed every stunt. We took the regional title and I got the recruit packet from the Yale coach’s assistant in the parking lot before we even got back on the bus. Got home that night. Ran into Coach Daniels in the parking lot. She had her phone jammed between her ear and her shoulder and her lanyard was twisted sideways. She grabbed my arm when she saw me. “Ellie. Have you heard from Chloe?” “No. She wasn’t in the room when I got up this morning.” “You didn’t see her last night?” “I saw her leave. I texted her to check in.” I handed her my phone. The thread was right there on the screen. She looked at it for a second and her mouth went flat. Then she went back to her call. I picked up my bag and walked toward the dorms. The sun was on the front steps and I squinted into it. Last time, Chloe was on that bus. She nailed her stunts. The team won. She got her Penn letter in the mail. And I, the one who had pulled her back and kept her there, ended up at the bottom of a pit six weeks later. The team had a celebration dinner at the country club the next night. Chloe wasn’t there. I was walking out the front of the club when I saw Jax’s truck at the curb. Black, lifted, exhaust the kind you could hear from the other end of the block. Everyone at school knew that truck. Chloe was in the passenger seat. Her face was swollen on one side. Red scratches up her neck and arms. Her hair was tangled and the strap on her lace top had snapped and been tied back together with a hair tie. Someone’s old hoodie was thrown over her shoulders. Jax cut the engine and said something to her. She climbed down from the cab and her legs almost went out when her feet hit the ground. She caught herself on the side mirror and stood there for a second, getting her balance. She looked up. She found me across the lot. Her eyes were swollen and red. “Ellie.” She said my name like she was pushing it through her back teeth. I didn’t move. “You,” she started. She took a step toward me and her knee buckled. She went down on the asphalt. A girl from the team moved to help her. Chloe shoved her off. “Why didn’t you call me?” Her voice came out loud. Loud enough that the parents waiting by the curb all turned around. I looked at her on the ground. Last time, I was the one looking up at her from a hole in the ground. “I texted you,” I said. “That’s bullshit.” “Your phone died.” Chloe pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket. The screen was black. She stared at it. Her shoulders started shaking, all the way down to her hands. Jax got out of the truck. He was taller than me by a head, close-cut hair, a small silver hoop in his left ear. Quarterback shoulders. Those were the same hands that had kicked the cover shut over the pit. I took half a step back. Not because I was scared. I just didn’t trust myself if he got too close. Jax looked at Chloe, then at me, his eyebrows pulling together. “What happened?” I didn’t answer him. I turned and walked away. Behind me, Chloe was crying. The sound mixed in with the parents and the car doors and got smaller as I went.

Coach Daniels called me into her office. Door closed. She sat. I stood. “Chloe says you encouraged her to go.” “No. She decided to leave on her own.” “She says you gave her condoms. To take with her.” I nodded. Coach Daniels’ mouth opened and closed. She took a while to find words. This was probably above her pay grade. “She’s also saying it was deliberate. That you let her go on purpose so she’d miss Regionals.” “Coach. She’s 18. She wanted to go see her boyfriend in the middle of the night. It wasn’t my job to tie her to the bed.” She was quiet for a long time. She opened her desk drawer and touched a pack of gum, then seemed to remember I was still there and pushed the drawer shut. “You know her mother called the school board.” “About what?” “Said the dorm should have stricter sign-out rules. Said you didn’t stop her.” “Chloe has her own key card. She can come and go whenever she wants. That’s not on me.” She went quiet again. “Okay. You can go. The school will handle it.” Chloe was waiting at the end of the hallway when I came out. She’d changed into clean clothes. The scratches on her face were covered in ointment, pink and white in patches. I walked past her. She grabbed my backpack strap. “Ellie. Did you do it on purpose.” I stopped and looked at her. I’d been looking at this face for three years. Locker neighbors freshman year. Roommates for two years after that. I used to spot her on her tumbling passes. I used to stay after practice and run her routine with her until she got it. Last time I did everything for her. She paid me back with three days in the dark. “What do you think, Chloe?” She stared at me. Her lips were shaking. “You look different.” “I’m not different. I just don’t want to look after you anymore.” I pulled my strap out of her hand and walked away. The weeks waiting for the rest of the recruiting calls were quiet. During the day I helped my mom sort inventory at the warehouse. At night I sat at the kitchen table and went through college brochures. Last time I played it safe and stayed in-state. This time I wanted out. The official Yale offer came through on a Thursday evening in July. Full athletic scholarship. Cheer recruit. Pre-med track if I wanted it. My mom came home from her shift and saw the screen and sat down on the kitchen floor and cried. She kept saying, “Your dad has to hear this, he has to hear this.” She called him right there. The construction site was loud. My dad’s voice came through the phone at full volume. “What does it say? Read it again.” “Full ride, Dad. Yale.” A few seconds of quiet on his end. Then he said something I hadn’t heard in eighteen years. “That’s my girl.” My eyes stung. I looked down at my bowl. At ten o’clock that same night, Chloe’s mom called.

It came through on speakerphone. My mom thought it was the warehouse calling and picked up without checking. Chloe’s mom’s voice hit the kitchen like something breaking. “Is this Karen? Your daughter cost mine her shot at Penn, do you understand that?” My mom flinched and nearly dropped the phone. “What? What happened?” “The night before Regionals your daughter handed mine condoms and sent her out the door. On purpose. To get her benched. You people owe us an explanation or I’m calling the school board.” My mom hung up and looked at me. Her face moved through surprised, confused, scared, all in a few seconds. “Ellie. What actually happened?” I put down my fork. “Her boyfriend invited her out the night before Regionals. She wanted to go. I couldn’t stop her.” “And the other thing?” “She was going to spend the night out there. I didn’t want her to be stupid about it.” My mom opened her mouth and closed it again and didn’t say anything else. She hadn’t finished high school, but she knew where the line was. The next morning Chloe’s mom pulled up in a silver SUV. We lived in a small house on the edge of town, one story with a front yard, the kind of fence you could see over from the sidewalk. I was washing dishes in the kitchen when she pushed through the gate. Floral dress, blow-dried hair, white heels that caught in the gap between paving stones the second she stepped in. She yanked her foot hard. The heel snapped off. That doubled her anger. “Ellie.” I looked up. Chloe was behind her, head down. The scratches on her face had mostly faded but there was a fresh scab at the corner of one eye. “Get your mother out here.” My mom came out of the house wiping her hands on a dish towel. Chloe’s mom didn’t wait. She got her finger in my mom’s face. “Do you have any idea what your daughter did. The night before Regionals she hands my daughter condoms and sends her out the door. So she’d miss the bus.” My mom stepped back. “Let’s just calm down for a second—” “Three years. Three years of 5 AM practices. Three years of summer camps and physical therapy bills. Penn was locked in. Locked in. And your daughter ruined it.” The neighbors across the street were already watching. Chloe’s mom turned the volume up another notch, making sure the whole block could hear. “Karen. I’m giving you two options. One, your daughter gives up her Yale spot. Two, you pay eighty thousand dollars. Recruit consultant, retake fees, emotional damages. Pick one.” My mom went white. Eighty thousand. My dad worked a full year at the construction site and barely cleared that. “Pick one.” Chloe’s mom stood in the middle of the yard with her hands on her hips, her foundation cracking in the heat. She reached over and grabbed something off the porch table. My acceptance letter. It had arrived two days ago. My mom had put it in a clear sleeve and set it in the center of the dining room table with a bowl of fruit next to it. She squeezed the sleeve and the plastic made a sound. “You don’t pay, I tear this up right now.” My mom moved. Fifteen years on a warehouse floor will do something to a woman’s hands. She grabbed Chloe’s mom by the wrist, knuckles white, yanked the letter out of those pink-polished nails, and held it behind her back. “Try it.” My mom’s voice was shaking but her hand wasn’t. She looked straight at the other woman. “My daughter earned this herself. Whatever happened with yours has nothing to do with us.” Chloe’s mom just stood there. Two red lines pressed into her wrist. She didn’t move. I walked over and put my hand on my mom’s shoulder. “Mom. I’ve got it.” I turned to face Chloe’s mom. “If you want to go to the school board, go. I have three copies of everything.” I took out my phone and opened a video. I turned the screen toward her. Chloe’s mom leaned in to look. Chloe’s face went still.

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