Category: English

After I died, my parents signed the organ donation form, giving my retina to their beloved adopted daughter, Liana Tate. Without me, they were finally a real family. Liana and I fought all our lives, and in the end, I was left with nothing but a broken heart. This time around, I decided to live for myself—and ended up with an unexpectedly happy ending. Content I was reborn, all the way back to the day Liana came into our home. If I’d returned a little earlier, maybe I could have prevented her parents’ tragic deaths, or even convinced my parents not to adopt her. But now, she was here, and no tantrum could change that. Liana was the daughter of my father’s mentor, a renowned artist who doted on her like a treasure. She had a natural gift for painting, but a mysterious eye disease made her vision unpredictable, and she faced the constant risk of blindness. After her parents passed away in an accident, leaving her alone, my parents took one look at her and decided she’d be like their own—even more so than their real daughter. “Marissa, haven’t you always wanted an older sister? From now on, Liana is your big sister! Aren’t you happy?” My mom and dad looked at me with that expectant, loving gaze, hoping I’d accept my new sister wholeheartedly. At seven, I was thrilled. I believed I’d gained a warm, loving family member and couldn’t wait to share my world with her. But Liana wasn’t here to share anything; she was here to take everything. “Marissa, I know you’re very mature,” Dad said, “but Liana isn’t well. Even though you’re younger, we need you to help us look after her. Can you do that?” I didn’t even get a chance to reply before Liana’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I know it’s hard for Marissa to accept me. Who would want to share their family’s love? I… I can just go back to the orphanage.” Sometimes I wondered if she, too, had come back with a second chance at life. How could an eight-year-old be so calculating? I hadn’t even objected, and yet she’d already cast me as the jealous, spoiled sister. Mom gently wiped Liana’s tears. “Oh, Liana, please don’t cry. It’s not good for your eyes.” “And you don’t need to call us ‘Mr. and Mrs. Locke.’ Starting today, we’re Mom and Dad to you.” Liana looked up, her young face streaked with tears and glistening lashes. She looked so innocently astonished, so pitiful, anyone would feel sorry for her. “I… I have a mom and dad now.” And just like that, they cried together, the three of them in a tight embrace. No one remembered to ask how I felt. Liana just had that effect on people.

That night, my parents made me share a room with Liana. I lay quietly in bed, wide awake, my mind racing with plans to become independent as soon as possible so I could leave. From my last life, I knew how it would go. From the moment she entered our family, Liana would make my parents—and even my brother—hers. In the dead of night, Liana crept out of bed, and I feigned sleep, watching her sneak into my parents’ room. “Mom! Dad! It’s so dark… my eyes hurt so much… I’m scared…” Overwhelmed by sympathy, my parents never stopped to wonder how Liana, in this strange house, had managed to find their room in the dark while supposedly suffering from an eye attack. All they did was wrap her in their arms, their eyes brimming with tears as they held her. “Liana, don’t be scared. We’re right here.” She shivered, pressing herself deeper into Mom’s embrace, the picture of a frightened little girl. “Mom… Dad… can I really stay in this family? Earlier, Marissa, she…” Hearing this, a chill settled over me. Moments later, Dad burst into my room, yanked me from bed, and demanded, “What did you say to Liana? How could you be so unkind? Liana’s been through so much already!” “Let’s not be too harsh,” Mom said softly, though she still held Liana tightly, never even glancing my way. In the end, they brought Liana into their room, leaving me alone, standing in the cold, dark hallway. They’d forgotten I was seven too, that I was scared of the dark and the cold, and that I still needed my parents’ love. Over time, I understood the game Liana played. She would pretend to suffer a relapse, stirring up sympathy, and then accuse me of things I hadn’t done. As I grew older, I saw the crisis: ever since she arrived, I’d been cast as the “bad child,” while she took over my place. And so began our rivalry. If Liana got something, I’d make sure to have it too. Liana was skilled at putting on a gentle, sweet front, while I, the real daughter, became the petty, jealous one. In the end, I lost at everything, even my brother Trevor, who’d once doted on me, fell under her spell. In the art world, everyone knew the Lockes had an angelic, talented adopted daughter, Liana Tate—and a bratty, jealous daughter named Marissa Locke. This time around, I’d had enough. I was done fighting Liana; I’d live the life I truly wanted.

The next morning, I walked downstairs to the sounds of laughter. Liana was sitting in my seat, eating with my favorite dishes and silverware. When she saw me, the warmth drained from the room as though I were the intruder. Mom’s face looked awkward. “Marissa, you’re up early today. Liana doesn’t have her own set yet, so we let her use yours. Why don’t you use Trevor’s?” “No, thank you. I don’t take what doesn’t belong to me.” Everyone caught my sarcasm. Dad, still upset with me for “bullying” Liana last night, glowered at me. I glanced at the table. Milk, sandwiches, eggs, and bacon—all of Liana’s favorites. I was lactose-intolerant, and I usually had oatmeal. “Oh, I forgot! Let me make you some soy milk instead,” Mom said quickly, eager to cover up her favoritism. Dad slammed his cup on the table. “Why do we need so many special treatments? She’s already spoiled enough!” If I were the same girl from before, I’d be heartbroken, ready to throw a fit. Now, though, I just felt numb. I sat silently at the edge of the table and caught Liana’s satisfied smirk as she ate. When she glanced up again, her face was all sadness. “Dad, don’t be so harsh on Marissa. She grew up pampered; it’s only natural for her to act spoiled. It shows how much you love her.” And just like that, my parents were moved to tears by her “grace.” How angelic she seemed in contrast to me, the ungrateful daughter. But I didn’t care. In my last life, I’d practically disowned them already. I could’ve pretended to adore Liana, played the obedient little sister. But I wanted her to know: all the love and admiration she fought so hard for meant nothing to me.

By the time the three of them came back from enrolling her in a new school, I’d already moved my things to the guest room. It wasn’t about giving her my space—I just wanted some privacy. Dad patted my head. “Marissa, you’re such a good girl. Just like Daddy’s little angel.” A younger me would have basked in those words, but now I knew what he really meant: if I could sacrifice my happiness for Liana’s sake, only then was I worthy of his love. Liana didn’t hesitate to barge into my room, looking over the art supplies Mom and Dad had once bought just for me. Her face turned pale as she threw herself, sobbing, into Mom’s arms. “I just wish I could paint freely like Marissa.” Mom looked at me apologetically, hesitating before finally speaking. “Marissa, I know this is unfair, but for Liana’s sake, could you put your art supplies away?” This was how it started: my space, my hobbies, even my dreams were slowly pushed aside for Liana’s sake. In my last life, Liana’s failing eyesight meant she couldn’t paint for long. So, I was forced to cut back on my own painting time, even though I was the artist’s daughter. Liana’s work was framed and displayed while mine sat at the bottom of a forgotten art box. When the time for our college art exams came, Liana’s eye issues flared up halfway through her exam. She wasn’t able to finish, so she switched her name onto my piece. When the results came in, I recognized my own work with Liana’s name on it. I begged Mom and Dad to help me. Instead, they held a sobbing Liana and gently told me to be the bigger person. “Marissa, you’ll have another chance next year. Liana’s running out of time—any day now, she could go blind.” It was so easy for them to say, but only I knew how many nights I’d spent practicing, nearly going blind myself from exhaustion. I screamed, “Isn’t it enough that she took you from me? Now she has to take my life too? Give me my spot back, or I’ll leave for good.” Instead of remorse, all I got was a stinging slap. “Without Liana’s eye problems, do you really think you’d have won? You have no talent! Even in art school, you’d be at the bottom of the class.” I clutched my burning cheek, stunned that my own father would say such words to me. In the end, Liana took my spot at the academy, and I became the joke of the art world—a failed artist overshadowed by the girl who could barely see. This time around, I was done. In front of my parents, I threw my art supplies in the trash. Dad’s face darkened, but they knew they were in the wrong, so they left, with Liana right beside them.

When summer break arrived, my brother Trevor came back from studying abroad, mainly to meet the “legendary” new sister, Liana Tate. Just like in my past life, the moment Trevor laid eyes on Liana, he was utterly enchanted. Liana wore a blindfold, stumbling around the living room like she was lost in darkness until she “accidentally” fell right into Trevor’s arms. Blushing, she murmured in that delicate voice of hers, “Since I don’t know when I’ll go blind, I thought I should get used to darkness now. That way, I won’t be a burden to Mom, Dad, or you.” She had such a way with words. In just one sentence, she managed to make me seem unnecessary, even subtly hinting that Trevor and I didn’t get along. Trevor, full of youthful idealism, was so shaken he couldn’t even speak, gazing at her like she was a damsel from some tragic romance movie. He made up his mind right then and there to protect her for life. My parents suggested we all go out to celebrate Trevor’s return. I wanted no part of it; the four of them looked like a perfect, happy family, and there was no place for me, the bratty, unloved youngest daughter. But Liana wouldn’t let it go. She hid in a corner, tearing up like a sad little pearl. “Mom, Dad, why don’t you just go with Trevor and Marissa? You all deserve a family day without me ruining it.” Trevor got flustered and gently wiped her tears. “Why would you say that? We’re a family now.” Liana acted shy, pulling back from his touch and glancing at me with a helpless look, silently accusing me of something. Trevor turned to me with a scowl. “Marissa! Why are you bullying Liana? This isn’t like you; you used to be so sweet!” Who had changed? They were the ones who’d become strangers: Mom, who had always thought of me first; Dad, who’d been strict but fair; even Trevor, my once-protective big brother. I looked him in the eye, laughing coldly. “Why don’t you ask Liana? How did I ‘bully’ her? I gave up my room for her. What else does she need?” My question caught Liana off guard. She avoided my gaze, but this only strengthened Trevor’s resolve to defend her. “It’s that high-and-mighty attitude that hurts her! She just got here, so naturally you should make her feel welcome!” Suddenly, I was the enemy, while Trevor played the knight defending his “princess.” Mom and Dad chimed in, “Marissa, Trevor doesn’t visit often. Don’t upset him. Apologize to him and Liana.” I looked over this family, who seemed determined to put Liana’s feelings above everything else, and said, “Liana can have anything she wants because I don’t care—but I’m not apologizing.” With that, I walked to my room and locked the door, letting Trevor’s frustrated shouts fade into the background. They spent the entire day out without calling to check on me or even bringing me dinner. In my last life, I would’ve been heartbroken, maybe even starved myself to make them feel guilty. Now, I knew it was pointless; it only hurt me. I made myself a big bowl of ramen, spread out the study guides I’d secretly bought, and settled in. Since my rebirth, I’d been focused on improving myself, pushing forward every day. This time around, I planned to create a life for myself. After careful thought, I decided to study medicine.

At seven years old, I still had the mind of my twenty-something self from my past life, and academically, I was miles ahead of Liana. Her “delicate angel” act might work on my saintly parents, but it didn’t fool the teachers. Failing grades were failing grades. When finals came, I scored first in my grade, while Liana barely passed. Every time a teacher called our parents about her poor performance, she’d tear up, blaming her eye condition. Yet she stubbornly refused to transfer to a specialized school. Each exam season, the house was in chaos as she “struggled” to study, while I took it in stride. To spare her feelings, my saintly parents decided they’d both attend Liana’s parent-teacher conference—even though it was on the same day as mine. They had to know that their favoritism was already causing my classmates to bully me, calling me a “loveless nobody.” Any time they wanted to brush aside my needs for Liana’s sake, they used that tired line I’d heard a thousand times: “Liana’s health isn’t good, and she’s had a hard life. Just give her a little grace.” But I didn’t care. Knowledge was my greatest weapon. I used every spare moment to study, and by twelve, I skipped a grade, becoming the youngest high schooler in our city’s history. Suddenly, my name was everywhere. Everyone knew the Locke family had a prodigy daughter. Dad’s phone rang off the hook with calls from well-connected families hoping to arrange friendships or even engagements. But because he wanted to protect Liana’s feelings, he turned down every invitation, never considering how these connections could benefit my future. Of course, how could I possibly compare to his beloved Liana? When the acceptance letter arrived, my principal, Caroline Quincy, and a reporter personally came to deliver it. But my parents were already rushing out the door, taking Liana to the hospital because she’d complained of a “headache.” They didn’t even stop to greet the principal. Even though I’d long since given up hope for my parents’ support, there was a pang of disappointment. Principal Quincy looked at me intently and said, “Our school doesn’t usually allow boarding, but if you want to live on campus, I’ll arrange it.” She patted my head, and I felt a long-forgotten warmth. Tears welled up as I realized how much I missed the care and kindness of someone who truly looked out for me. That single moment brought two of the most important people into my life.

As the school year approached, I couldn’t wait to move out of the chilly, loveless Locke house and into the school dorms. That day, predictably, Mom and Dad had been called away by Liana’s latest “health crisis.” Trevor was home on break but made no move to help me pack. He simply watched me bustle around, and when I was about to leave, he muttered, “Guess things’ll be peaceful around here for once.” I hoisted my last bag into the taxi, not sparing him a glance. Principal Quincy had arranged a lovely room for me—actually a converted faculty apartment, cozy and well-equipped. I spent a full day cleaning and organizing, then headed to the bookstore to stock up on study materials. High school would be intense, and I was determined to excel. When classes started, I wasn’t surprised to find myself ostracized. Rumor had it that Principal Quincy had “made an exception” for me, and whispers quickly followed. “Oh, look, the 12-year-old prodigy is here.” “Think she’ll cry and want her mom at night?” “Maybe we should put her next to the water cooler so she can make her baby formula during breaks.”

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On our wedding night, my husband didn’t touch me. He claimed he was too exhausted and told me to give it some time. But every night, like clockwork, he slips quietly down to the basement. He returns needing a shower, with this strange smell lingering on him. When I asked what he was doing, he said he was working out. Working out in the middle of the night? Finally, one night, I couldn’t hold back and went down to the basement to see for myself. He caught me and, grabbing my nightgown, yelled furiously: “Get upstairs! You are NOT allowed in the basement! Otherwise, we’re getting divorced!” Content I gripped the railing, shaking with anger. My parents spent their life savings on this cottage to be our wedding home. This is my house! So why shouldn’t I be allowed in the basement? And as my husband, why does he have to speak to me so cruelly? Taking a deep breath to control my anger, I asked, “Evan Marshall, is this how you talk to me?” Evan still had a firm hold on my nightgown. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll explain in the bedroom.” “Can’t you just tell me here?” I pointed down at the pitch-black basement stairs. “Why can’t I go down? Don’t I have that right?” “I told you—I work out down there, and I’ve got some things that you can’t see yet.” Evan stepped down a few stairs, blocking my way. “Why?” I demanded. “Because it’s not the right time yet,” he replied. “When it’s time, I promise you’ll see.” My stomach churned with frustration. I took another deep breath to control my emotions. “And did you really have to say it in such an ugly way when you caught me?” “I was just worked up, okay? You know me—sharp tongue, soft heart.” I laughed bitterly and turned to go back upstairs. Sharp tongue, soft heart? Right. Fine then. Tomorrow, when he’s at work, I’ll have a look for myself. … Back in bed, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Something suspicious is definitely in that basement, and it’s got to be big. Was Evan hiding some kind of dark secret? I glanced over at him. He wasn’t asleep either, staring at the ceiling like he was lost in some secret worry. In the moonlight, his features looked sharp and handsome, his build even more rugged and alluring. Back when he was chasing me, I’d been flattered and didn’t dare believe it. He was so attractive, while I’m just… ordinary. Why did he like me? He said he liked my gentleness, my calm nature, something unique about me. And I’d believed him. But if that’s true, why hasn’t he wanted me at night? I’m his young bride, after all; we haven’t even finished our honeymoon yet. Is this normal? Unable to resist, I reached out and touched his face gently. “What are you doing?” he hissed, jerking away as if he’d been shocked, glaring at me with disgust. The look was the same one people give to stray dogs or beggars on the street. Anger filled me as I turned away. Why did he pursue me if he had no interest in me? Why stay with me? Suddenly, I turned back and glared at him. “You told me you’re sick, and that’s why we can’t be together for now. I accepted that. But why such a strong reaction when I touch you?” “I’ve told you a hundred times, it’s a psychological issue. I’m seeing a therapist for it. You just need to be patient.” Evan tapped my shoulder lightly with his phone instead of his hand. “Just give it six months, okay? After that, I promise I’ll love you right.” Too “dirty” to touch, but clean enough for marriage? Could I really believe him? For now, I had no choice but to wait. I sighed, frustrated, and turned away. Honestly, I’d given him everything since we started dating. He said he liked watches, so I got him one worth a fortune. He wanted to travel, so I went around the world with him. He wanted to invest, so I loaned him the money. Anything I had, he could ask for, and I’d give it freely. And now, just after our wedding, this is what I get in return. It’s that basement causing all this! I hate that basement. I’ll tear it apart if I have to, just to get to the bottom of it.

Morning came. Like usual, I made breakfast—the kind Evan likes. He ate in silence, keeping his usual indifferent expression. It felt as though I were his maid, not his wife. After breakfast, I drove him to work. We both worked in sales at Eden Fragrances. I parked, watched him disappear inside, and then told a coworker a few things before quickly leaving. Without my car, I caught a taxi straight back home. Once there, I rushed inside, heading straight for the basement. But when I got there, I was stunned. The door had been replaced! I had no idea when he’d done it, but now there was a steel security door with a keypad lock. Without the code, I couldn’t even get close. I took out my phone and snapped a picture of the door, thinking of finding out if these doors had any universal keys. “What do you think you’re doing?” Evan’s voice boomed from the top of the stairs. He’d actually followed me home! In three quick steps, he was at the bottom, his face dark with rage. He slapped me hard across the face. “How many times have I told you?!” “You hit me?” I put my phone away, glaring. He kept shouting, “How many times have I told you?!” I shouted back, “This is my house! Don’t I have the right to go down there? And if you changed the door, shouldn’t you have told me?” “You need to wait until I have time to tell you!” he barked, raising his hand as if to strike again. I leaned back, dodging his hand, and pulled out my phone. “I’m calling the police.” My cheek stung from the slap, my anger burning through me. Barely married and already he was hitting me? Where would this lead? Panic crossed Evan’s face as he grabbed my hand. “Why are you calling the cops?” “This is my house. Why can’t I go down to my own basement? Why did you hit me? Can’t I call the cops?” I stood firm, ready to dial. “Lily, calm down,” he said, his tone softening. “I… I just lost my temper.” “Oh, so that means you can hit your wife?” I pulled my hand free, saying, “Let go! I am calling the police!” Once again, he grabbed my hand. “Lily, it’s really not a big deal. If you feel we can’t get along, then maybe we should get a divorce.” Divorce? I took a step back, silent. Things were bad, but I didn’t think they were that bad. My parents had high hopes for our marriage; they’d want grandkids soon. And if we divorced, this cottage would be split in half, and my parents would lose out. I couldn’t let that happen. “If you want a divorce, then the house stays with me,” Evan said. “Otherwise, we keep things as they are. Now, go back to work.” After a long look, I turned and left. I couldn’t let him take away my parents’ hard-earned money. “Hey! Get back here!” I stopped and turned. “Don’t you think you owe me an apology after everything?” Tears welled up in my eyes, and I slammed my fist onto the railing, feeling the sting as my knuckles split. Blood ran down my hand. After a glare at him, I walked away. … “Lily, what’s wrong? You look awful,” my coworker Megan Blake asked when I got back to the office. “I’m fine,” I replied, sitting down and opening my laptop. I’d bandaged my hand but kept it hidden under the desk so she wouldn’t see. “Hey!” Megan slid into the chair next to me, giving my shoulder a nudge. “Your honeymoon must be wild. You look like you’re about to pass out!” I forced a smile. If only she knew what a mess things were. “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” she reminded me. “Company’s doing that family team-building event, so partners are supposed to come. If you don’t go, they’ll fine you.” I didn’t care about the outing, but I didn’t want the fine. Evan always loved these company outings and had never missed one before. “If Evan goes, then I’ll go,” I said. “I already asked him. He said he’s not going. Without him, you two lose the monthly bonus,” she added. “I’ll go talk to him.” I went over to his department. He was sitting with two male coworkers, laughing and gossiping about something. I overheard them talking about a hit-and-run accident outside Eden’s office a couple of months ago. Some woman had hit three employees and fled, and they still hadn’t found her. I walked up and asked quietly, “You’re not going to the company outing?” “No,” he replied, as cold as ever. “If you don’t go, we’ll be fined.” “Then let them fine us,” he shot back. “I just think we don’t need to—” “Could you stop nagging?” he suddenly shouted, loud enough for the entire office to hear. The room fell into an awkward silence, my face burning. Here he was, my new husband, yelling at me in front of everyone. What was there left to say? I just lowered my head and walked away. Any illusions I’d held about Evan vanished in that moment. “Lily, I’m sorry for pushing you earlier,” Megan said quietly when I got back to my desk, giving my shoulder a supportive squeeze. “It’s fine.” I suddenly remembered something, took out my phone, and sent her a photo. “Megan, you’re my go-to. Can you find out if there’s a universal key for this kind of keypad lock?” Megan checked the picture, nodded thoughtfully. “Sure thing. I know someone who sells these doors. I’ll ask around for you.”

It was evening again, and as I prepared dinner, I checked the home monitoring system on my phone. Still broken, just like that morning. Was Evan messing with it on purpose? I finished cooking and set the table. A few minutes later, Evan came home carrying a cake. He hid it quickly in the storage room, but I caught a glimpse—it was a fancy French mousse cake, artfully made. I froze for a moment. It wasn’t his birthday, and it wasn’t mine either. What was he up to? He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t ask. At dinner, we barely spoke. He ate as though he were a customer at a restaurant, and I was his waitress. Later, as I replaced the bandage on my hand, Evan broke the silence. “So, Lily, have you thought it over?” I looked up. “Thought what over?” “About the divorce. Have you made up your mind?” he asked, his tone casual, as if we were discussing dinner plans. I let out a cold laugh. Was his only goal with this marriage to get the cottage? “What do you want?” I challenged. “Do you actually want a divorce?” He didn’t answer. “If you’re not happy with me, feel free to ask for a divorce,” I said calmly. “I won’t stand in the way of your happiness.” He shot me a hard look and turned away. “Just go to sleep.” I pressed him again, “You told me to give you time. You said once you got better, things would be different. Isn’t that right?” “Can we just drop it?” he snapped, annoyed. “I’m exhausted. Go to sleep!” After changing my bandage, I turned off the light and lay down. There we were, side by side, but worlds apart. Living like this was torturous, but I had no choice but to endure it for now. Eventually, I fell asleep. It might have been instinct or some inner sense, but in the middle of the night, I woke up. Moonlight spilled into the room, faint but enough to see clearly. Evan wasn’t there. He must have gone to the basement to “work out” again. This time, I was determined to see what he was really doing. But as I shifted to get up, my wrist suddenly felt weighed down. I pulled, and a cold shock ran through me. I was handcuffed to the bedpost with a thick silver chain. I tugged hard, but it wouldn’t budge, and the strain made my wrist burn. Furious, I whispered, “This is too much!”

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At nine months pregnant, I suddenly felt my baby stop moving inside me. I rushed to the hospital for an emergency C-section. When I woke up, my mother-in-law Martha happily told me I had given birth to a big, healthy boy. Meanwhile, my recently divorced sister-in-law Lily had delivered a stillborn baby on the same day. After that, Lily became extremely attached to my son. She was so good to him that before I died, I left all my inheritance to them. But they told me that the stillborn baby was actually mine. And the child I had poured my heart and soul into raising for eighteen years was actually Lily’s. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I first noticed my baby had stopped moving. I quickly adjusted to the fact that I had been reborn. Lying in bed, I placed my hand on my swollen belly, my heart heavy with grief. Hearing Martha push open the bedroom door, I quickly closed my eyes. Suddenly, Lily’s anxious voice rang out. “Mom, my stomach hurts so bad. Do you think I’m going into labor today?” Martha immediately scolded her. “Keep your voice down! Don’t let her hear you.” Lily fell silent, but soon began moaning in pain again. “Mom, it’s starting again. I can’t take it!” “Oh lord, you can’t give birth now! It has to be on the same day as her, remember?” My heart skipped a beat. So they had planned this all along. But what shocked me even more was what I heard next. “Mom, with all those drugs you’ve been giving her, is the baby really dead?” I felt like a knife had been plunged straight into my heart. Gritting my teeth, I listened to Martha’s confident reply: “If it’s not dead, it won’t survive long after birth anyway. That’s what happens when you’re carrying a girl.” No wonder. My baby had always been perfectly healthy. Just last month at my checkup, the doctor said everything looked great. I never imagined it would suddenly stop moving like this. I wanted nothing more than to kill them right then and there. “Ahh, Mom, I can’t take it anymore! The pain is unbearable – I really think I’m going into labor. Please, do something! Make her go to the hospital to give birth today too.” “Alright, I’ll give her the abortion medication now.” I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to tear them apart. Even now, I couldn’t understand why they would do this to me. I had been nothing but kind to Lily. When she got divorced while pregnant, I immediately invited her to live with us, not wanting her to be alone. Every prenatal vitamin and supplement I took, I made sure Lily had too. I even helped prepare her hospital bag and bought a set of baby clothes and diapers for her child. But I never imagined she and Martha had been plotting together all along to kill my baby and have me raise Lily’s child instead. I couldn’t fathom why. My baby was Martha’s own flesh and blood grandchild too. Why would she want to kill it just to have me raise Lily’s baby instead? In my past life, I suddenly developed cancer. Was that related to them as well? After all, Martha had prepared all my food and drinks. The more I thought about it, the more horrified I became. Just then, Martha pushed open the bedroom door, carrying a glass of milk. Her face was beaming like a chrysanthemum. “Chloe dear, wake up and have some milk.” Looking at that wrinkled old face, I wanted nothing more than to slap her hard. But I couldn’t. Not yet. I would make them pay for everything they owed me, slowly and painfully. I carried the milk into the living room. Lily’s face was deathly pale. Good. I hope the pain kills you. “Chloe, hurry and drink it before it gets cold,” Lily urged. I set the milk aside and stood up with a smile. “My stomach feels a bit off. I don’t want milk – I’m craving some steamed buns from that shop down the street.” “Absolutely not!” Martha and Lily cried in unison. Martha reached out to stop me. I shoved her hand away. I wasn’t going to the hospital today no matter what. Let’s see what they could do about it. “Mom!” Lily suddenly let out an agonized scream. Her skirt was soaked through. Her water had broken. Martha’s face turned ghostly white. Just as I was about to gloat, Martha suddenly shoved me hard. My belly slammed into the ground. Blood gushed between my legs. The pain made me black out. When I came to again, it was just like in my past life. Martha’s face was wreathed in smiles as she cradled a tiny infant. “Chloe, look! You’ve given birth to a big, healthy boy.” “He’s so adorable and chubby. You did so well, Chloe,” she cooed, placing the baby in my arms. Lily suddenly rushed over and snatched the baby from Martha. “Mom, let me hold him for a bit.” Her face was deathly pale and she staggered as she clutched the tiny infant tightly to her chest.

Martha quickly smacked Lily on the shoulder. “This is your nephew – Chloe’s baby. She hasn’t even held him yet. What are you thinking? Go lie down!” But Lily refused to let go. She gave me a pitiful look. “Chloe, my baby was stillborn. I’m heartbroken. Please, just let me hold him for a little while?” “Don’t worry about a thing, Chloe. You just rest. I have milk, so I can feed him if he gets hungry.” I stared at her coldly. She was so considerate. In my past life, I had been deeply touched by how thoughtful she was being. I even sent a delivery service to buy her lots of nutritional supplements. And gave her an expensive gold necklace as a thank you gift. Now I realized how blind I had been. The intense maternal love in her eyes as she gazed at the baby was so obvious. How did I not see it before? Even if I had noticed, I would have assumed she was just transferring the love for her lost child onto my baby. Looking back, I was such a fool. Seeing that I didn’t object to Lily holding the baby, Martha quickly chimed in with a smile. “Lily, Chloe has been so good to you. Everything you’ve eaten, worn, and used during your pregnancy was from her. You’d better take good care of your nephew from now on.” Lily nodded vigorously. “Of course, Chloe. Don’t worry about a thing. I’m happy to hold him all day long. Once you’ve recovered, you can go back to work without any worries. I’ll take care of the baby, and Mom will handle the cooking. We’ll be your support system.” Martha eagerly agreed. I dug my nails into my palms, fighting the urge to slap their shameless faces. They really had it all figured out. I wanted nothing more than to demand a paternity test right then and there to expose their lies. But when I saw the look of utter adoration on Lily’s face as she gazed at the baby, I changed my mind. I knew that this traumatic birth had left me completely infertile. In my past life, I was never able to get pregnant again. Since Lily was so willing to give me her biological child, I would raise him as my own right in front of her eyes. I would make her watch as her son became mine, until the pain was unbearable. Soon, my husband Lucas rushed back. He hugged me tightly, his face full of concern and gratitude. “Oh honey, you’ve been through so much.” I clung to him and burst into heart-wrenching sobs. In my past life, Lucas had been in a terrible car accident while rushing between business trips to provide for us. He needed an urgent heart transplant. I had scraped together $500,000 for the surgery with great difficulty, but Martha secretly took the money to buy the baby a grand piano instead. The delay in getting the surgery caused Lucas to die in the hospital. I could never understand how Martha could be so heartless towards her own son. She knew that money was meant to save his life, yet she stole it anyway! In this life, I would not let that tragedy repeat itself. I also needed to uncover whatever sinister plot was behind all this. Lucas cradled the baby, jokingly saying to me: “Honey, did you have an affair or something? This kid doesn’t look anything like me or you.” Martha and Lily’s faces instantly drained of color. I secretly rejoiced. I deliberately laughed and said to Lucas: “You’re right, he doesn’t look like either of us. Should we get a paternity test?” “Absolutely not!” Martha and Lily cried out in unison. Martha slapped Lucas hard on the back. “Lucas, you ungrateful brat! Chloe is such a wonderful daughter-in-law and you dare to doubt her? I ought to smack some sense into you!” Lily also jumped in anxiously. “Big brother, this is definitely your baby. How could you suspect Chloe like this? You’ll break her heart! Apologize to her right now!” Lucas laughed and hugged me. “I’m sorry, honey. I was just joking!” He whispered in my ear: “Wow honey, you’re amazing. You’ve got those two difficult, selfish women totally wrapped around your finger. Look how they’re defending you.” I laughed coldly to myself. A snake will always be a snake, no matter how you treat it. But with Martha and Lily taking care of the baby, I was able to enjoy a peaceful, comfortable postpartum recovery period this time around. Soon, Martha started pressuring me to go back to work. “Chloe, you see how well we’re taking care of the baby. Don’t worry about a thing. There will be so many expenses as he grows up.” Lily was nursing the baby, who had grown plump and adorable. “Chloe, Mom’s right. You should feel totally at ease going back to work. Mom and I can handle everything – the baby, the housework, you name it.” Of course I planned to return to work. But I wasn’t about to let them stay home and care for the baby full-time either.

In my past life, I had foolishly believed their words and threw myself into work. We sent the baby to an expensive private preschool, then private elementary, middle and high schools. Lucas and I were constantly traveling for business, barely able to spend any time with our son. Meanwhile, Martha and Lily were at home with him every day. The boy grew much closer to them than to us. In my past life, as I lay dying of cancer, I desperately wanted to see my son one last time. But Martha and Lily kept making excuses, saying they didn’t want to disrupt his studies. After I died, my soul lingered briefly. I saw Lily showing our son a paternity test, telling him she was his real mother. Mother and son embraced, sobbing. “I knew that woman wasn’t my mom. She never loved me. So you’re my real mother, Aunt Lily.” Martha, Lily and my son went on to live comfortably in the home Lucas and I had bought, using the inheritance we left behind. This time around, I would never let things unfold as they wished. With that in mind, I smiled and agreed. “Of course, Mom and Lily. I’ll work as hard as I can.” As soon as I left the apartment complex, I went straight to find Lucas. I showed him a video I had secretly recorded on my phone. In the video, Lily was cradling the baby, her expression tender. “Baby, I’m your real mommy, okay? You have to remember that.” “That woman isn’t your mother. You can’t drink her milk.” “Mommy doesn’t have money to raise you right now, so we have to rely on that woman. But you can’t get too close to her, understand?” Ever since I was reborn, I had installed hidden cameras in the guest room. I needed to protect myself from them. If they were capable of poisoning me during pregnancy, who knows what other evil they might do. I was just waiting for the day they would make their move. But Lucas’s face showed only sympathy for Lily. “Oh honey, my poor sister. She lost her own baby, so she must be projecting those feelings onto our son.” I knew Lucas was a kind person who had been manipulated by Martha his whole life to always take care of Lily. He would never imagine Martha and Lily could actually harm us. “Honey, I know Lily is in a sad situation. But our baby doesn’t understand any of this. If Lily keeps telling him these things, and we’re always busy working, don’t you think he might start to believe Lily is his real mother? He could end up having no bond with me at all.” Lucas thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I’ll call Lily and tell her to stop saying those things.” I quickly grabbed his phone away. “No, confronting her directly will only hurt her more.” “Then what should we do?” “Why don’t we send Mom and Lily on a nice vacation for a while? When Lily gets back, we can help her find a job. That way she can focus on other things.” “Plus, we shouldn’t treat her like some kind of live-in nanny for our child. That would be taking advantage of her.” Lucas looked uncertain. “But who will take care of the baby?” I already had a plan ready. “Honey, my friend runs a professional daycare center. I’ve checked it out – the staff are all highly trained experts. It’s really great.” Lucas finally agreed and called Lily. But when he hung up, he had a troubled expression. “Honey, Lily says they’re happy to go on a trip, but they insist on taking the baby with them.” “What if we let them take him, and give them a bit more time? We can figure something else out later, okay?” Absolutely not okay. I pinched my thigh hard and burst into loud sobs. “But honey, I can’t bear to be away from our baby either! I’m his mother!” Seeing my tears, Lucas finally took my side. “Don’t cry, honey. I won’t let them take our son away.” Soon, Lucas’s phone rang. I heard Martha’s panicked voice come through: “Lucas, come quick! When you refused to let Lily take the baby, she got so upset she slit her wrists! You have to come to the hospital right away!” We rushed to the hospital. Martha immediately slapped Lucas hard across the face. 4

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On the day we gave birth, my best friend came to my bedside right after her C-section and swapped away my son. Twenty years later, my best friend’s spoiled son caused big trouble. In front of everyone, she pointed at my academically excellent daughter and proudly said: “Actually, this is my biological child!” I smiled: “They say nephews resemble their uncles. If your son shaved his head, he’d look exactly like your brother!” “This is indeed your biological son…” I saw a woman in a hospital gown at the door of the ward, hunched over and carrying a thick bundle. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. She came in, as expected. Even while enduring the pain of a C-section, she still came to swap my child for a million dollars. After she left, I looked at my fair and chubby daughter lying beside me, my face full of love. Stroking my daughter’s face, I whispered, “That skinny, premature son – whoever wants him can have him.” Two hours later, my husband and in-laws arrived. My room was quiet, with only me, my husband, and the nurse. Olivia’s room was bustling with activity, surrounded by my in-laws, sister-in-law, and a group of relatives. My husband looked a bit embarrassed and comforted me, “It’s okay, Rachel. Our little princess has us, and that’s enough.” I patted his hand, “I just had surgery and I’m feeling weak. Since Olivia has the energy, let her entertain the guests.” She not only swapped babies but also greeted guests. That night, she suffered a severe hemorrhage and was rushed back to the operating room. After being discharged, we both moved into the family mansion to prepare for the babies’ one-month celebration. My in-laws gave Olivia the largest room with the best lighting. She insisted on giving it to me: “Chloe has more severe jaundice, so you should take this room, Rachel.” Looking at the skinny, yellow boy in her arms, and my daughter in mine, who only had a bit of yellow on her hands, I reluctantly accepted. “Thank you, Olivia. You’re such a good friend, forever.”

A year ago, shortly after I married into the wealthy family, my best friend Olivia would cry in front of me every day. She said I had forgotten our promise to “never forget each other if we became rich.” Looking at her strange heavy makeup and the exaggerated expressions on her face, I remembered how five or six years ago, after she hooked up with a rich guy, she cut off contact with all our old classmates. I could only laugh it off and repeatedly deny her accusations. Unexpectedly, half a month later, I saw her getting together with my gambling-addicted brother-in-law. My in-laws didn’t approve, but she got pregnant first and forced a marriage. Her baby was only a month behind mine. Seeing both daughters-in-law pregnant, my in-laws were overjoyed. They declared that whoever gave birth to a son would be rewarded with a million dollars. I didn’t care much, as I hadn’t married my husband for his family’s wealth. Besides, whether it was a son or daughter, both were blessings, and I would love either. Olivia didn’t see it that way. She went everywhere to get her fortune told. She consulted several masters, and they all said she was carrying a girl. She even spent a lot of money trying to change her luck, but to no avail. After all this trouble, she ended up in the hospital for a month to protect the pregnancy. When I was close to my due date, she kept staring at my belly. A mother’s instincts are unusually sharp, so I became wary. Sure enough, on the day my water broke, she arrived at the hospital right after me. She insisted that the doctors perform a C-section on her, saying she had consulted fortune tellers and today was an auspicious day. After my daughter was born, while everyone was distracted, I switched her son with mine in advance. So, the baby Olivia took away was actually her own son.

On the day of the babies’ one-month celebration, the entire mansion was decorated festively, with countless luxury cars gathering and guests filling the halls. The “crown prince” in Olivia’s arms wore a bright yellow outfit, making his little face look even darker. My daughter wore only a pink dress, prioritizing comfort. My in-laws displayed a million dollars in cash on a long table. Olivia’s family members guarded the table, afraid someone might steal a stack. I rolled my eyes. How petty, I thought. Everyone here today is from wealthy families; who would care about your small change? When my mother-in-law put a palm-sized solid gold longevity lock around Olivia’s son’s neck, she immediately took it off and insisted on putting it on my daughter. “Boys are tough; this longevity lock is better for Chloe to wear.” She then took the hollow longevity lock from my daughter’s neck. Everyone praised her for being virtuous, and I chimed in: “You’re so good to Chloe, sister-in-law. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was your own daughter.” She froze for a moment, then looked at my daughter in my arms with a loving expression. “Of course, of course. We’ve always been best friends, and now we’re sisters-in-law. I just adore Chloe.” I blocked her hand as she tried to reach for my daughter. “Sister-in-law, your son is crying. You’d better go check on him.”

When the children were two years old, they were playing together in the courtyard. Hearing a commotion, Olivia and I came downstairs one after another. Seeing several long, bloody scratches on my daughter’s face, I held her without a word, my face ashen. Olivia went berserk first, slapping her son’s face hard several times in succession. The child’s face immediately swelled up, and he cried breathlessly. After being hit, he still reached out to Olivia, “Mommy, hug.” Olivia kicked him away, “You worthless thing, how dare you bully Chloe? I’ll chop off your hands.” Hearing this, my daughter started crying in fear. Olivia glanced at her and became even angrier. She pressed her son’s head into the swimming pool. “You little bastard, you deserve a beating. Who do you think you are? If your sister’s face scars, I’ll kill you.” She only let go when the child’s little hands stopped struggling. Seeing the child about to sink to the bottom of the pool, I quickly pulled him out. After being rescued, the child kept coughing and spitting water. Olivia held my daughter, comforting her softly. I snorted coldly. A two-year-old child makes a mistake, and she wants to take his life? She thinks this is my son, so she treats him this way. If my daughter were in her hands, she might be even worse off. “Sister-in-law, no matter how wrong Ryan did, he’s still your own son. You almost killed him.” She didn’t even look up: “If he dies, it’s his bad luck. We can always have another one.”

Those words weren’t wrong. She got pregnant again, and this time it was confirmed to be a boy. My in-laws were so happy they couldn’t close their mouths, saying she should go ahead and give birth, and they would give her a million dollars for every boy, no less. Many children bring much happiness, they said. Even ten would be fine. It was because of this that she treated Ryan worse and worse. After all, that million dollars had already been spent. Her brother’s gambling debts, which were paid off with the million dollars at the time, had accumulated again over these two years. Her mother repeatedly came to ask for money, telling her that her own brother was even dearer than her son. From the time she wanted to hook up with a rich guy to buy her brother a phone and computer, I had warned her. Being an overbearing sister wasn’t a good idea; in the end, she would lose everything. She thought I was trying to drive a wedge between her and her brother and cut off contact with me. Now, she came crying to me about how her family was sucking her dry to support her brother. I advised her, “That’s your own brother. If you don’t take care of him, who will? I’ve heard that debt collectors have many tactics these days. If they come to your in-laws, they’ll definitely be unhappy.” Olivia only got a few tens of thousands in living expenses each month, which couldn’t keep up with her brother’s spending. She could only set her sights on having children.

When my daughter was eight years old and just started elementary school, she suddenly went to the hospital. The doctor said it was an allergy, and the symptoms were severe. Olivia arrived at the hospital before me. When I got there, she was arguing with the doctor: “She’s allergic to mangoes, how can it be this severe! You incompetent doctors, give me the most expensive medicine!” “If she gets any worse, I’ll shut down your entire hospital!” A nurse was quietly trying to comfort her, “Ma’am, please don’t worry. We’ve already treated her, and she’ll be fine in a while.” She shouted, “Easy for you to say when you’re not affected! How would you feel if it was your daughter lying there?” The doctors and nurses fell silent, not wanting to argue with her. I ran over, caught my breath, and patted the nurse’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m the child’s mother. Thank you all, please go ahead with your work.” The doctor who had been scolded looked bewildered, “Then who is this?” I forced a smile, “This is the child’s aunt.” The doctors and nurses all looked over. As they left, they gave Olivia a look as if she were crazy. Before leaving, the doctor said, “Ma’am, our hospital’s psychiatric department is quite good. If you often feel overly anxious and stressed, you might want to go check it out.”

After Chloe was discharged, she rested at home for a few days without going to school. During these days, Olivia nearly turned the school upside down. First the principal, then the teachers, were all reported to higher authorities. She accused them of allowing students to poison others at school. She even bought off some tabloid reporters to interview at the school. Banners were hung all over the school. “Unscrupulous school endangers my daughter’s life.” “Corrupt principal allows poisoning and protects the perpetrator.” “Immoral teachers abuse students.” To substantiate the teachers’ crimes, she even beat Ryan, who was in the same class as Chloe, until his face was black and blue. She made Ryan tell the reporters’ cameras that it was the teacher who beat him. The incident involved school food safety and caused a huge stir. Ryan’s body was covered in new bruises mixed with old ones. Every day, Olivia dragged him out to kneel at the school gate, and he looked very weak. Onlookers began to speak up, “The child looks like this, why not take him to the hospital?” “These injuries are clearly new. Could the teacher still go to their home to continue beating?” “What a mess in your circle. Rich people don’t go to the police when something happens, just put on heavy makeup and sit in luxury cars blocking the school gate every day.” More and more onlookers were saying Olivia was putting on an act. It wasn’t until I brought Chloe to the school gate that this farce was stopped. I also called reporters and clearly explained the whole story. The child was allergic to mangoes, and her classmate didn’t know and shared some mango candy with her. It was our fault as parents for not doing enough. I hope everyone will stop discussing this matter. As for my sister-in-law’s disturbance to the school, I sincerely apologize. And the lawsuit against that classmate and their parents, we will withdraw it immediately. I hope everyone will let the children study in peace.

My in-laws care most about their reputation. After my husband told them about this incident, They were unforgiving towards Olivia, who had given birth to four grandsons. At a family gathering, they made her kneel down in front of everyone and reflect on her behavior. Olivia lost a lot of face, and my husband was very worried. “Will Olivia take it out on Chloe? After all, she did all this for our daughter.” I assured him, “She won’t. Olivia loves Chloe so much, how could she blame her?” She couldn’t wait to dote on Chloe; if she were to take out her anger on anyone, it would only be on her own son. That night, we heard ghostly wails and screams of a child being disciplined. Ryan cried the loudest, “Mom, I’m your son. Why do you always hit me because of my sister? I feel pain too.” “Shut up, or I’ll sew your mouth shut! How dare you mention Chloe’s name!” In the end, it was my in-laws who couldn’t bear it anymore and took Ryan away. They also stopped Olivia’s credit cards and forbade my brother-in-law from giving her money. Olivia indeed went through a year or two of poverty. She held onto her resentment, pestering my brother-in-law every day. Until she gave birth to her fifth son, she was overjoyed, thinking she would get another million dollars. My in-laws only tossed her twenty thousand dollars. “Having a child, twenty thousand is more than enough. From now on, you’ll have to pay for your own baby formula.”

With less money, she could only rely on quantity. In the following years, Olivia gave birth to three more children in succession. The damage from giving birth to so many children, plus managing eight children over these years, Left her face full of wrinkles, looking nearly ten years older than me. The little money she got was all given to her family. My brother-in-law kept a twenty-something-year-old mistress outside and rarely came home. Even if she wanted to have more children, she couldn’t find anyone. Everyone thought she would be discouraged, sighing like a bitter woman. But she remained energetic every day, even though her sons were all spoiled rotten. Uneducated and incompetent, they relied on the living expenses given by their grandparents, either staying at home playing video games or going out causing trouble every day. Some even dropped out of school, and Olivia indulged them. People were puzzled, but only I understood clearly in my heart. Now that Chloe is twenty years old, she’s already pursuing a master’s degree at a top university. Whether the family inheritance goes to the grandsons or the outstanding granddaughter, She would be the winner either way.

During the New Year’s Eve family gathering, Ryan fled home in a panic. He had taken a drunk girl to a hotel after drinking at a bar. Now she had reported it to the police, and he quickly ran back home. Kneeling in front of his grandfather, he begged him to save his eldest grandson. “Grandpa, please save your eldest grandson. When I helped that girl out of the bar, she clearly didn’t resist.” “Grandpa, don’t you have friends at the police station? This girl is falsely accusing me, you should have her arrested.” Seeing his grandfather’s face turning purple with anger, his father smashed the wine glass in his hand onto Ryan’s head. Blood flowed down his forehead, and Ryan crawled towards his mother, dragging his 300-pound body. “Mom, save me. I’m your own son.” His brothers standing nearby all folded their arms, watching with detached interest. It seemed as if the one kneeling on the ground begging for help wasn’t their brother, but an enemy. Olivia crouched down to wipe the blood from his face, “Ryan, you’ve caused such big trouble, even I can’t help you.” Grandfather exploded in anger, “Enough! Olivia, look at the good son you’ve raised. You take him to turn himself in right now. We didn’t see him today!” “And you, we can’t afford a daughter-in-law like you in our family. When you come back, divorce Tyler and leave with nothing!” Olivia panicked instantly. She grabbed Chloe, who was sitting next to her grandparents, and before anyone could react, she blurted out: “Dad, it’s not me who should leave. Ryan is Tyler and Rachel’s son, and Chloe is my real daughter!”

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Late at night, a note suddenly appeared at the door of Jefferson Hall. “Don’t make a sound. Your roommates are all pretending to be asleep!” Shortly after, I heard my roommate from the top bunk speak. “Ethan, you can’t sleep either?” My heart leapt into my throat. Wasn’t he supposed to be out all night? Content 0 “Ethan, why aren’t you answering me?” The bed frame above me creaked loudly. The note was clenched tightly in my hand. Instinct told me not to respond. I exaggerated my breathing, trying to mimic the rhythm of someone fast asleep. The creaking suddenly stopped. To be safe, I waited what felt like over ten minutes before curling under my blanket to check my phone. The screen’s brightness was dimmed to the lowest setting. No new notifications. Why was Connor, my roommate from the top bunk, suddenly back? Did I misremember? I opened the Dorm WhatsApp Chat. “Hanging out at Cyber Haven tonight. Won’t be back. Cover for me during the RA inspection.” I didn’t misremember. Then who was just on the top bunk? Suddenly, a new message popped up. “Haha, knew you weren’t asleep.” It was from Miles, another one of my roommates. So was it Miles who climbed onto the top bunk? My back broke out in a cold sweat as I recalled the words on the note. Then, I felt a chilling breeze across the top of my exposed head. Someone was breathing on me! In an instant, my entire body froze. The note in my hand trembled, my feet felt as cold as steel, and my heartbeat pounded so violently it felt like it might burst from my chest. I could vividly imagine someone gripping the bed’s frame above me, leaning their face close to mine, staring at me with unblinking eyes. I struggled to control my breathing. This night was too surreal. Gripping my phone tightly, I tried to keep my trembling under control. The phone suddenly vibrated. Who the hell was calling at a time like this? Now wasn’t the time for a call. Without looking at the number, I immediately declined it. The creaking from the top bunk returned. Then, silence. Whoever it was had laid back down. For now, it seemed I was safe. There was no way I could sleep. I reopened my phone. The call had been from an unknown number. My name is Ethan Gray. Most people just call me Ethan. My top bunk roommate was always Connor Pierce. Connor was a classic gamer. He rarely talked to us, preferring to immerse himself in online games. Since power at the dorm cut out at night, he often spent the night gaming at Cyber Haven. Miles, on the other hand, was the polar opposite—outgoing, playful, always joking around. I strained to listen. The room was quiet except for the even rhythm of someone’s breathing. Everyone seemed asleep. But who left the note? And what was Miles trying to do? Lost in thought, unease eventually gave way to sleep. 0

“Holy crap!” Derek’s voice startled me awake. “Miles… he’s… dead!” I shot up in bed. A large pool of blood spread across the floor. Blood dripped thickly from the rusty rod of the bedframe. The sight was horrifying. What the hell happened? Miles was fine last night! Derek stood frozen, his face pale as a sheet, his mouth trembling but unable to form words. He was completely paralyzed with fear. I scrambled out of bed and grabbed my phone to call the police. Summoning my courage, I glanced at Miles’s body on the bed. His position was contorted unnaturally. His head and neck were stretched awkwardly over the edge of the bed. His right hand clutched his throat, poking through the gap in the bedframe’s railing. The quilt was tightly wrapped around his right leg. It was clear he’d died in agony. The thick metallic stench of blood filled the air, nearly overwhelming me. Derek and I couldn’t hold back the nausea. We bolted from the room, barely making it to the hallway. My head spun, my ears rang. From last night to now, everything had spiraled into a nightmare. What the hell was going on? 0

The police arrived at the scene. Shortly after, Connor returned from outside. A death in the dorm drew school officials and a crowd of curious onlookers. The area was cordoned off with police tape. “Preliminary assessment suggests this was likely a homicide.” Miles’s death was beyond strange. I waited on the sidelines, feeling as though my head had been filled with lead. All I could think about was that massive pool of blood. The remaining three of us—Derek, Connor, and me—were taken to Hudson County Precinct for questioning. “Last night, it was just me, Derek, and Miles in the dorm. Connor went to Cyber Haven and should have been out all night.” “I woke up and found Miles dead. Yes, Derek woke up first and started screaming, which woke me up.” I recounted the strange events of the previous night and mentioned the note I had found, intending to hand it over to the police. “It’s gone!” I must have lost it in the chaos. The officer taking my statement stared at me intently, his gaze unnerving. Goosebumps prickled across my skin. “You can leave for now,” he finally said. The thought of the note and Miles’s behavior left my legs weak as I walked out. I couldn’t bring myself to return to Jefferson Hall alone, so I sat in the precinct’s lobby, waiting for Derek and Connor. Miles’s body had been sent for an autopsy, but the results weren’t in yet. As of now, the only suspects were Derek and me. And, of course, Connor. But last night, the dorm door had been locked. Even if Connor had a key, it would have been impossible for him to enter without making a sound. I’m a light sleeper, and my bed is right next to the door—I’d have noticed it opening. That left Derek as the most likely suspect. Before long, Derek came out of the interrogation room. “I think Connor killed Miles,” he said suddenly, staring at me. “They were gaming together yesterday afternoon, and they got into a huge fight. Connor’s face turned bright red—I’ve never seen him that angry before.” “But Connor was out all night at Cyber Haven,” I countered. “How could he have come back, killed Miles, and left without waking us up?” “Who knows… Maybe it’s possible,” Derek muttered. After some time, the police brought Connor out. “We reviewed the surveillance footage. He wasn’t at Cyber Haven last night, nor does he have any other alibi.” It really was Connor! He killed Miles! Connor remained silent, offering no explanation. Unfortunately, the dorm building is old, and with the school constructing new ones, there aren’t any security cameras inside. Until the autopsy results come in, Connor would remain under police supervision. Still, something about it didn’t sit right with me. How could he have silently unlocked the door and killed Miles without waking anyone? If it really was him, then the note must have been his, slipped under the door to confuse us. But that would mean the note’s claim—that everyone in the dorm was pretending to sleep—was false. Maybe I was so shaken last night that I slept more deeply than I thought. That explanation seemed to make everything fit. But then… Why did Miles behave so strangely last night? Am I overthinking things? 0

After Miles’s death, the school promised to reassign dorms for the three of us. But for tonight, Derek and I still had to stay in Jefferson Hall. The room had been thoroughly cleaned and disinfected after the police finished their investigation. Still, every time I closed my eyes, Miles’s horrific death flashed before me. The dorm felt oppressively quiet. We were on a high floor, and the winter wind outside sounded eerily like someone crying. It was impossible to sleep. I scrolled through my phone to distract myself. Besides a class announcement in the Class WhatsApp Group Chat, the only other message was the one Miles had sent me last night: “Haha, knew you weren’t asleep.” What did Miles mean by that? Was he joking with me? Or… was that message not sent by him? And the person who blew on me last night—was it Connor? A chill ran down my spine as a terrifying thought crossed my mind. Was Connor testing me last night? If I had made a sound, would there have been more than one death? Just then, I heard a faint rustling sound near the door. Taking a deep breath, I peeked over the edge of my bed. There it was again—a note on the floor. “Don’t make a sound. Your roommate is pretending to be asleep!” It wasn’t the same note as last night, but the words were identical. My back broke out in goosebumps. Clutching the note and my phone, I turned on my side and curled up under the blanket. Connor was under police watch. So… The killer must be someone else. My thoughts turned to Derek. Tonight, it was just the two of us in the dorm. My heart pounded in my chest. Through the gap between the blanket and the bed, I glanced at Derek’s bunk. It looked like he was in bed, but it was too dark to tell for sure. Could the person who killed Miles be someone outside our dorm? I stayed frozen in my position, not daring to move. If there was even the slightest noise, I was ready to send an emergency text. Minutes passed. Nothing happened. I exhaled a shallow breath. My body was stiff from fear. There was no way I’d sleep tonight. I stayed like that, tense and alert, until dawn. After a distracted morning of classes, I brought the new note to the precinct. I didn’t tell Derek. I couldn’t fully trust him either. Until the killer was caught, I wasn’t safe. What if they were some kind of lunatic? “In the autopsy, we found only one fatal wound—a cut on the victim’s wrist,” the officer explained calmly. “We also found a blade inside his clothing, likely the tool used to make the cut.” “Additionally, Miles’s social media history shows recent posts with concerning, negative language.” “Based on the evidence, we’ve concluded that Miles committed suicide by cutting his wrist.” Suicide? How could that be? What about the notes? The officer didn’t have an immediate answer but said they’d continue investigating. For now, Connor was cleared of suspicion. Leaving the precinct, I felt numb. The past two days had been too much to process. Miles had committed suicide. He was always the one filling the dorm with laughter. He was so outgoing, with so many friends who adored him. How could this happen? I blamed myself for being so blind to his struggles. Maybe it really was him who sent that message. Was he asking for help? He must have been asking for help! If I’d responded, if I’d comforted him, would things have turned out differently? The thought made me want to cry. I hated myself for being so cowardly. Why hadn’t I just gotten up to check on him? But then again… If the note was just a prank, Then whoever left it was the one who distracted me, stopping me from helping Miles in time. 0

“Ethan… Are you unable to walk?” Suddenly, I heard the exact same voice from the night Miles died, coming from behind me. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital bed. I couldn’t feel any pain—there didn’t seem to be any injuries—but my head was spinning. “Ethan, how are you feeling? Do you feel better?” Connor and Derek were sitting at the bedside. My left hand was hooked up to an IV drip, and I weakly nodded in response. “You collapsed right in front of me. Scared the hell out of me.” So, Connor must’ve brought me to Willowbrook Medical Center. I vaguely remembered hearing someone call my name before everything went black. I couldn’t recall anything after that. The stress from the past few days, coupled with a lack of rest, had clearly taken a toll on my body. “Good thing I ran into you as soon as I was released from the precinct,” Connor added. So, that voice I’d heard earlier—it was his. I must have misheard it as my consciousness started fading. For a moment, I thought it was someone—or something—else. Just then, my phone rang. “We need you to return to Hudson County Precinct for another statement,” said the officer on the line. Connor and Derek received the same call shortly after. “Where were you that night?” I asked Connor, unable to hide my curiosity. “I didn’t go to Cyber Haven,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. “But where I was… That’s not something I can tell the cops.” The room fell silent. Only the sound of the IV drip filled the air. “Ethan, did you hear someone call your name that night?” Derek suddenly broke his silence. So… he wasn’t asleep that night?

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“I don’t have one,” I replied, leaving the host momentarily speechless. Soren, standing nearby, suddenly spoke up. “Is what’s written on the sign your wish?” After a brief pause, Soren spoke again: “I’m willing.” Instantly, the venue erupted in thunderous screams. Oh right, I forgot. The sign I was holding said, “Soren, will you be my boyfriend?” My name is Sunny, and I’ve known Soren since childhood because he’s my brother’s best friend. There’s only a three-year age gap between us, but it always felt like we were worlds apart. When I started middle school, he was a sophomore in high school. When I became a high school freshman, he was starting college. I worked incredibly hard to get into his university, thinking we could finally be together. But by then, Soren had become a superstar, and I could no longer catch up to him. From that point on, I could only admire him from afar. The first time I met Soren, I was very young. All I knew was that my brother had an incredibly handsome classmate, so I always loved tagging along behind them, grinning like an idiot. I’ve always been drawn to good-looking people, even as a child. “Oliver, are you going to play basketball? I want to go too.” “Oliver, are you going out? Can you take me with you?” “Oliver, let me come along.” “Oliver, Oliver, Oliver…” Oliver, now in middle school, was thoroughly annoyed by his little tagalong sister. But he had no choice. If he didn’t take me along, he wouldn’t get any allowance. And when I went out with my brother, nine times out of ten, we’d see Soren. Gradually, Soren and I became more familiar, sometimes even meeting up without my brother around. Later, we ended up at the same school, though I was in middle school and Soren was in high school. But even in the middle school section, there were always stories about Soren. After all, someone handsome and smart is popular anywhere. “Sunny, there’s a basketball game in the high school section later. Will you come watch with me?” my desk mate whispered while the teacher wasn’t looking. “I heard your brother and Soren are playing too. You can go cheer for your brother.” Yeah, right. As if I’d go cheer for Oliver. Of course I was going to watch Soren. We skipped a study hall period and rushed over. By the time we arrived, the game was already heating up, and it looked like there was some friction between the two sides. They had the referee sandwiched between them. At that hot-blooded age, neither side was willing to back down. It looked like a fight was about to break out. I saw someone push Soren, and my anger instantly flared up. I jumped up from my seat, grabbed a plastic chair from the side of the court, and charged over. “Don’t you dare bully my brother! I won’t let you get away with this!” They were probably startled by my forceful voice and all turned to look at me. My chair didn’t hit anyone. Instead, halfway there, I tripped over my own feet and fell spectacularly in the middle of the court, with the chair shattering beneath me. Back then, the term “social suicide” didn’t exist yet. I just wanted to find a hole to crawl into. It was so embarrassing. Soren was the first to rush to my side, seeing that I was still lying on the ground. He scooped me up and ran straight to the infirmary. Later, his team lost the game because two of their key players were missing, staying with me in the infirmary instead. “What were you thinking? You’re just a girl, how could you be so reckless as to try and fight high school boys?” My brother scolded me, still shaken by the incident. “I saw them about to hit you. You’re my brother, how could I just stand by and watch?” I said, not very convincingly. I was afraid he’d figure out it was because of Soren and beat me up. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.” Soren patted my head. “But next time, leave the fighting to your big brothers, okay?” Although my brother scolded me, he was touched that I stood up for him, and it made him look good. The opponents who nearly got into a fight on the court now envied him for having such a pretty and brave little sister. So as a reward, my brother gave me all of his allowance. I immediately took the money and secretly dragged Soren to the mall for a big meal. “Why hasn’t your brother arrived yet? Maybe you should call and hurry him up.” “Oh, my brother just texted me. He said something came up and he can’t make it.” I kept my head down, looking at the menu, not daring to meet Soren’s eyes. I felt guilty. At this moment, my brother was probably at home eating instant noodles alone. “Soren, have you ever dated anyone? Let me tell you, high school is crucial. You need to focus on your studies and not get distracted by relationships.” After starting middle school, I stopped calling Soren “big brother.” I had my own reasons – I didn’t want him to see me as a little sister. Soren didn’t seem to mind this change. He looked at me without saying anything, just smiling. I plowed on, explaining, “That’s what my mom tells my brother at home. Since you two are so close, I naturally wanted to pass the message on to you.” “Well, you can tell your mom that I won’t be dating early.” I quickly agreed, my mood greatly improved. The food on my plate suddenly tasted even better. In the end, Soren secretly paid the bill, telling me to keep the money to buy something I liked. After junior year of high school, my brother and Soren became even busier. They were either in class or doing practice tests. Following my mom’s instructions, I went to deliver something to my brother. At the stairway corner, I saw the familiar figure of Soren, but there was a pretty girl standing across from him. I didn’t dare get closer, so I couldn’t hear what they were saying. In the end, Soren accepted something the girl handed him, a smile on his face. I was stunned. It wasn’t like I’d never seen girls confess to Soren before. But he always rejected them coolly, never accepting anything from them. I felt a sense of unease. I secretly took a photo and then turned to leave. After a night of internal struggle, I anonymously sent the photo to their homeroom teacher. In the crucial final year of high school, how could they afford any distractions? I was doing the right thing. That day in class, I was distracted. As soon as school ended, I rushed home, wanting to ask my brother about it. But when I got home, my parents and brother were all there. High school seniors had evening self-study sessions. “Oliver, did you skip class?” “Your brother was caught dating. Your dad and I just got back from the school,” my mom said. Hmph, dating as a team, huh? “I’m not dating! That girl was chasing after me, but I don’t like her,” my brother explained, exhausted. “I can’t believe someone took a photo and reported it. If I find out who it was, I’ll beat them to a pulp.” I suddenly felt a chill down my spine and quietly slipped from the living room to my bedroom. Oh no, I reported on my own brother. What should I do? The next day, I saw Soren in the cafeteria. “Well, well, look who learned how to tattle,” Soren said as he sat down across from me. “I didn’t know it was my brother,” I mumbled. “So it would have been okay if it was me? And here I thought I’d been so good to you,” he teased. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your brother. This can be our little secret.” Soren held out his pinky, as if to make a pinky promise. I was confused. “How did you know it was me? I sent it anonymously.” Soren smiled. “I had a hunch, but now I’m sure.” shift Middle schoolers are no match for high schoolers after all. My brother and Soren both got into top universities. I started high school, and the intense study atmosphere took some getting used to. Especially math and physics – I was getting worse and worse. My mom got worried and started finding tutors for me. Although I resisted, I didn’t dare go against my mother. On the first day of summer vacation, I stumbled out of bed with messy hair to find Soren sitting in our living room. It had been half a year since I’d seen him. He seemed even more handsome. “Soren, has my brother started dating anyone? He never tells me anything.” “No,” Soren replied, half-focused on the practice papers in front of him. “What about you?” I stared at him nervously, afraid of hearing an answer I didn’t want. Soren put down the papers and looked at me. “No.” I secretly rejoiced and pressed on, “So what are your requirements for a girlfriend?” “Just being of legal age.” “Anything else?” “Nope.” “That’s it? So simple?” I asked, incredulous. “Well, it’s not that simple.” Soren tapped the papers on the table, gesturing for me to start working. “Huh?” I didn’t quite catch that, but Soren didn’t elaborate further. Just one requirement, and I still didn’t meet it. The age part I couldn’t change, but everything else I could work on. Two more years. For the first time, I felt like time was passing so slowly. Soren tutored me in math and physics for a month, and also cooked for me and my hopeless brother. “Oliver, you’re so lazy. You’ll never find a girlfriend like this.” “Soren is hardworking, and he doesn’t have a girlfriend either.” Ugh, he had a point. I hoped Soren would continue not finding one. Soren’s tutoring was very effective. I got into the same university as them and finally welcomed my long-awaited 18th birthday. The long-held secret crush could finally emerge from behind the clouds and see the sun. I wanted to tell Soren, “I like you. I’ve liked you for a very, very long time.” But when I saw Soren again, he had become a popular singer. His latest single, which he wrote and composed himself, was playing online. As soon as it was released, it topped the charts on all major music platforms. With his superior singing skills and stunningly good looks, he attracted countless fans. Everyone said he was the star of tomorrow, a future superstar. I used to think that once I got to college, I’d have a chance. Now I realized that college wasn’t the beginning, but the end. I could never catch up to Soren again. A secret crush has always been one person’s own tumultuous battle. During the New Year holiday, my brother took me out for a meal, and we saw Soren after a long time. He was very busy, with activities all over the country, and didn’t have much time to keep in touch with my brother either. “Soren, long time no see.” I started calling him “Soren” again, as a reminder to myself. Soren heard my change in address and his hand, which was about to pat my head, stopped midair. “Sunny, have you adjusted to college life?” “It’s pretty good. The club activities are fun, and my classmates are easy to get along with.” “So, have you started dating anyone? You’re 18 now, you can date.” It used to be me asking Soren these questions. Now the tables had turned. “Yes, a senior at my school.” I kept my head down, eating from my bowl. I was afraid if I looked up, he’d realize I was lying. I wasn’t sure why I lied. Perhaps it was to completely cut off my own unrealistic fantasies. A hopeless crush should be nipped in the bud. On the way back, my brother seemed to want to say something several times but held back. He didn’t say it, and I didn’t ask. Soren became increasingly famous, winning more and more awards. Fewer and fewer people mocked him for relying on his looks. My roommate was his die-hard fan, with a complete collection of merchandise, posters, and albums. “Sunny, there’s an event with Soren this weekend. Come with me, please?” “I’m not going. I don’t like him.” “Oh, come on. Your phone is full of his songs, and every time I talk about Soren in the dorm, you perk up and listen.” I looked at my other roommates, and they all nodded in agreement. “There’s no shame in liking Soren. No need to hide it. Besides, he’s kind of our senior from the same school.” I had turned my love for Soren into a fan’s admiration for their idol, but I didn’t dare follow him openly, always carefully keeping tabs on him. One day, I had just returned from the cafeteria when I heard Lily talking in the dorm, “I can’t believe even someone like Soren would have unrequited love. The girl he’s pining for must be some legendary figure.” I opened my phone and saw the trending topic: “Soren – Unrequited Love – Exploded” It was a video clip of Soren being interviewed. Host: “People say many of your songs are about unrequited love. Is that true?” “Yes, it is.” “Is that because you’ve experienced it yourself?” “Yes.” “When did you start liking this person?” “A very long time ago.” “Do you still like them now?” Soren remained silent for a long time, never answering, and the video ended. That night, I tossed and turned in bed, my mind full of Soren’s interview. A very long time ago – that must mean during school. Thinking back, the people closest to him in school, besides my brother, were me. Surely Soren couldn’t have a crush on my brother, right? I opened SnapChat, wanting to ask Soren, but I never dared to. “Soren’s fan meeting is at the Cultural Center, just three subway stops from our school. It’s so close. Please go for me.” Lily tugged at my arm, begging. “Sunny, you’ve been secretly liking Soren for so long. Don’t miss this chance to see your idol in person. Trust me, once you see him with your own eyes, you’ll definitely fall in love with Soren.” I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t find a reason. Tickets for Soren’s fan meeting were in high demand. Lily had stayed up for three nights to snag a seat in the back corner. But when the day came, something urgent came up related to graduation. No matter how much of a fan she was, she couldn’t let it affect her future. She was reluctant to give up the ticket and asked me to go in her place, maybe even get a handshake or a hug. She said if I did, it would be like she got to hug Soren too. She didn’t know that if I went, there was no way I’d be hugging Soren. On the day of the event, it was incredibly crowded. There were even many fans without tickets gathered outside. I finally found my seat and immediately texted Lily to let her know I was there. “Girl, take out the sign and hold it up!” “No way.” “You have to! I had it specially blessed online. It cost me $50.” “Even if you spent $500, Soren still wouldn’t be your boyfriend.” “The fortune teller said the blessing wasn’t just for Soren, but for someone like Soren too.” That’s quite a broad blessing. “Sunny, do you really want to crush my dreams of love?” With no other choice, I reluctantly held up the sign. I even video called Lily to prove I was doing it. “Don’t think you can put it down right after. This fan meeting is being livestreamed. I’ll watch the replay when I’m done with my work, and if you didn’t hold it up, we’re through.” Great, my last escape route was blocked. At least it wasn’t too embarrassing. Lily’s sign was relatively tame compared to some of the others I saw in the crowd. After Soren sang a few songs, it was time for fan interaction. Selected fans could have a small wish granted on the spot. Usually, it was for an autographed photo or a picture together. “Soren, can I have a hug?” “I’m sorry, but we can shake hands.” Soren seemed to never hug female fans. Since his debut, he had never had any rumors or scandals. Could it be that Soren really liked my brother? “Number 3714, where is this fan?” It wasn’t until the girl next to me nudged me that I realized I had been picked. “What is this fan’s wish?” “I don’t have one,” I replied, leaving the host momentarily speechless. Soren, standing nearby, suddenly spoke up. “Is what’s written on the sign your wish?” After a brief pause, Soren spoke again: “I’m willing.” Instantly, the venue erupted in thunderous screams. Oh right, I forgot. The sign I was holding said, “Soren, will you be my boyfriend?” In an instant, I became the center of attention at the venue. The lights and cameras were all focused on me. I could clearly feel my heart pounding and my cheeks burning. Thankfully, not wanting to be recognized by Soren, I had worn a hat and mask. When I finally came to my senses, under everyone’s gaze, I grabbed my things and fled through the back door. But as soon as I got out, I ran into Soren’s assistant. “This is Soren’s dressing room. The event should be over in about an hour and a half.”

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When his mother found out, she immediately brought me to their five-story mansion. Overnight, I transformed into a princess, surrounded by love and attention. Grandma: “My dear granddaughter-in-law, these are our family’s heirloom jade jewelry.” Mother-in-law: “Sweetheart, keep this black card safe. All our family’s money is managed by the women.” Father-in-law: “Darling, please sign this agreement to transfer some company shares. If you think it’s not enough, we can add more!” Running into Jasper and Ann at the hospital was something I hadn’t expected. When I was with Jasper, I knew he had a close junior from college. On Jasper’s birthday, Ann, who was studying abroad, made a special effort to send a video message with her wishes. Seeing how intimate they looked, my heart ached. We had only broken up two months ago, and he had already moved on? Even found someone new. I unconsciously clutched the pregnancy report in my hand, not wanting anyone to see it. Yes, I was pregnant, and the baby was Jasper’s, just over two months along. I watched their matching silhouettes and turned to leave. “Jane?” Hearing the familiar voice, my whole body froze. I gripped the report tightly, afraid to move. “Jasper, what’s wrong?” Ann asked. “Nothing,” Jasper replied in a low voice. I felt a wave of sadness. So Jasper truly didn’t love me anymore, treating me like a stranger even when we met again. Fine, let’s just be strangers then. I kept my head down and walked forward. “Wait! Jane.” It was Ann. I didn’t want to deal with this and quickened my pace slightly. But in high heels and with a baby on the way, I couldn’t move very fast. Surprisingly, Ann caught up and grabbed my hand, forcefully turning me to face her. This was my first time seeing Ann in person. She was beautiful and elegant, with bright red lipstick that highlighted her bold beauty. Jasper stood right beside her, his face cold and expressionless. It was so frustrating. The father of my child was here with another woman, and I couldn’t even say a word. After hesitating, I finally managed to ask, “Can I help you?” Ann’s face twitched slightly, as if she hadn’t expected me to respond this way. After composing herself, she said, “Of course I do.” She linked her arm with Jasper’s and continued, “I hope you’ll stop bothering Jasper from now on. Only relationships between people of the same social status can last. You’ll only hold him back.” Ann’s words hit a sore spot. This was the very reason Jasper and I had broken up. Our families were worlds apart. He was the sole heir to a wealthy family, while I was an overlooked girl from a humble background. My mom had tricked me out of my savings, claiming she needed surgery, only to buy my brother a house the next day. When I found out about the scam, I truly felt like I was dragging Jasper down. In an emotional moment, I suggested we break up. For some reason, he was in a bad mood that day too. He only asked once if I was sure, then agreed to the breakup. We ended things just like that, in a messy, unclear way, right up until our reunion today. “Ann, let’s go,” Jasper said, his face dark as if holding back something. How ridiculous! I should be the angry one here, being lectured by a stranger. If anyone should leave, it should be me first. I stormed off, fuming. As I went down the stairs, I accidentally missed a step. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, but luckily a kind lady caught me, and I grabbed her arm to steady myself. “Are you alright, dear?” The lady kept supporting me until I was stable. “I’m fine, thank you so much.” I accidentally glimpsed the lady’s Hermès Birkin bag and my heart skipped a beat. Thank goodness I hadn’t grabbed that bag – I could never afford to pay for any damage. “You dropped this.” She picked up my pregnancy report from the ground. Just as I was about to take it back, she paused. “Young lady, is your name Jane?” Her surprised tone left me confused. We didn’t know each other, did we? “Yes, how did you…” Before I could finish, Jasper’s voice suddenly rang out. “Mom, what are you doing here?” No way, how could this be so dramatic? Running into my ex-boyfriend while checking on my pregnancy was one thing, but meeting his mother too? There was no way I could hide my pregnancy now. “Jasper, is this Jane?” Mrs. Thompson’s tone became serious. Jasper’s silence said it all. “How could you be so careless! Such a big thing and you didn’t even tell me!” “Jane dear, you’re coming home with me right now. Pregnant women need extra care. Let me look after you properly.” Mrs. Thompson took my hand and started to leave. This… this… “Mom, what are you talking about?!” Jasper exclaimed. “Shut it, young man! I’ll deal with you later!” Mrs. Thompson threw my pregnancy report at Jasper. When Jasper saw the report, he looked completely shocked. Of course, the one with the most dramatic facial expressions was Ann. Her face turned from red to white, then back to red again, her lips trembling with anger. “Mrs. Thompson, there must be some misunderstanding. Jasper has already broken up with her,” Ann interjected. “Our family matters are none of your business, Miss Brown.” Mrs. Thompson shot Ann a sharp glare, causing her to lower her head in fear. “My precious daughter-in-law, will you come home with me?” When Mrs. Thompson spoke to me, her voice was incredibly gentle, and she looked at me with loving eyes. Faced with such a warm-hearted lady, I found it impossible to refuse. Before I knew it, I was being led away. By the time I came to my senses, I was already sitting in Mrs. Thompson’s car. Things were spiraling out of control. I carefully began, “Mrs. Thompson, Jasper and I have indeed broken up. I think it’s better if I stay at my own place. Besides, Jasper has Ann now, so we should probably keep our distance.” “Nonsense, silly girl! There’s nothing between Jasper and Ann, and I would never approve of them being together!” “The only reason Jasper is nice to Ann is because she once saved his life in college. Of course, we’re very grateful to her, and we’ve always tried to accommodate her requests over the years. That’s fine, but if she’s getting greedy and trying to ruin your relationship with Jasper, making you suffer, I won’t let her get away with it!” “Now that you’re pregnant, it’s our family’s responsibility. If you don’t want to stay at our place, I’ll move in with you instead.” “Mrs. Thompson, this…” “It’s settled then!” I’d heard from Jasper before that his mother was quite headstrong, and now I was experiencing it firsthand. Calling the movers, packing up, loading the truck – the whole process was seamlessly executed. I was whisked away to the Thompsons’ five-story mansion in the middle of the night. Jasper wasn’t home, but his grandmother and father were there. When I got out of the car, both elders were waiting at the front door, which made me feel a bit embarrassed. “Hello, Grandma. Hello, Mr. Thompson.” I greeted them politely. Mr. Thompson smiled and nodded at me. “Oh, hello, hello! Come here, dear.” Grandma Thompson warmly beckoned me over. Seeing that the elderly lady was using a cane, I quickly went to support her. The old lady held my hand as we walked into the mansion. The interior decor was absolutely extravagant, with a European palace style. Once again, I was acutely aware of the vast difference between Jasper and me. His family lived in a five-story mansion in the city center, while mine lived in an old, run-down apartment in the suburbs. His father was a CEO, while mine was an alcoholic taxi driver with a gambling problem. His mother was a renowned dancer, while mine was a supermarket clerk who only cared about her son. Two people from such different worlds, brought together just because we caught each other’s eye at a friend’s birthday party – looking back, it all seemed so naive. Not to mention that Jasper was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, standing at 6’2″ with sharp features. I’d heard from friends that Jasper had been the campus heartthrob during his school days. What made me feel most inferior wasn’t the stark economic difference between our families, but the contrast in family atmospheres. The Thompson family was warm and loving, while my family members only thought about how to squeeze every last penny out of me for their precious son. A bitter smile crossed my lips, but Mrs. Thompson’s words brought me back to reality. “Darling, you must be exhausted. Why don’t you go upstairs and rest? Your room is on the second floor. I’ve prepared everything for you.” Mrs. Thompson took my hand and led me to the room. “What do you think? Do you like it?” Mrs. Thompson smiled at me. The moment the door opened, I was truly amazed. It was an Instagram-worthy princess room, all in pink and white, completely fulfilling my childhood fantasies. There was also a huge wardrobe filled with various Barbie dolls and stuffed animals. When I was little, I loved Barbie dolls. Every year on my birthday, I would wish for my mom to buy me one. But my birthday wishes were never fulfilled, not even once. She would only buy limited edition Lego sets for my brother, never remembering my existence. A mix of sadness and gratitude welled up inside me. My eyes reddened, and I couldn’t speak as I looked at Mrs. Thompson. “Silly girl, why are you crying? I had this hastily arranged. Do you like it? If not, we can change it.” “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson,” I choked out. “No need to thank me, it’s what we should do. To be honest, I truly like you. Regardless of what happens between you and Jasper, I want to treat you like my own daughter. Jane, could you stop calling me Mrs. Thompson? Would you call me Mom instead?” She said the last part so carefully. I couldn’t bear to refuse, especially since Mrs. Thompson had been so kind to me. Although it was probably for the baby’s sake, I was still very grateful to her. “Mom,” I said softly. “Yes, dear!” Mrs. Thompson beamed with joy. “Now go and rest. I’ll have someone bring up some warm milk later. Drink it and get some sleep. I’ll be right next door if you need anything, okay?” That night, I slept more peacefully than I had in a long time. The next morning, after breakfast, I was taking a stroll in the Thompsons’ garden. The garden was full of roses planted by Mrs. Thompson, romantic and gentle. “Jane! What are you doing here?!” A sharp female voice, barely containing anger, interrupted my peaceful moment. I turned to see Ann carrying several bags of nutritional supplements, probably here to visit the Thompson elders. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation,” I replied. Ann stormed towards me, gritting her teeth as she said, “Did you not listen to what I told you last time? If you keep shamelessly clinging to Jasper, don’t blame me for not being polite!” “Oh? That’s quite a bold statement, Miss Brown. I’d like to see who dares to bully my daughter-in-law right in front of me!” Mr. Thompson’s authoritative voice rang out, accompanied by his stern face. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson had appeared without me noticing. Mrs. Thompson walked over and put her arm around my shoulders, frowning as she looked at Ann. “Uncle, I didn’t mean…” Ann said pitifully. “Hmph.” Mr. Thompson let out a cold snort. “Jane, come inside with me. We have something to discuss. Miss Brown, you should come in too. There are some things we need to clear up with you.” We all went into the house together. Grandma Thompson seemed to be waiting for us in the living room. I sat down next to Mrs. Thompson, and then the three elders simultaneously took out something. What they said next left me completely stunned. Grandma Thompson: “Granddaughter-in-law, these are our family’s heirloom jade jewelry, passed down to each generation’s bride.” Mrs. Thompson: “Daughter-in-law, keep this black card safe. All our family’s money is managed by the women.” Mr. Thompson: “Daughter-in-law, this is an agreement to transfer some company shares. Please sign it. If you think it’s not enough, we can add more!” Finally, Mrs. Thompson said, “This is just a small token of our appreciation. We hope you’ll accept it.” She patted my hand gently. “Mrs… Mom, these things are too valuable,” I said, quickly correcting myself when I saw Mrs. Thompson’s hurt expression. “Sweetheart, it’s nothing. This is what our family should do. Don’t be shy! As for some people, they shouldn’t have any improper thoughts!” Grandma Thompson said slowly, clearly hinting at Ann. Ann’s face turned red, but she didn’t dare say anything. “Also, we elders have discussed and hope that you and Jasper can get married soon. Jane, when would be a good time to arrange a meeting with your parents?” Mrs. Thompson’s eyes sparkled as she spoke to me. How could I tell her that I had cut ties with my mother? How could I tell her about the dysfunction of my birth family? Just as I was hesitating, Jasper appeared. Seeing Jasper, Ann seemed to find her backbone. She immediately rushed over, grabbing his hand and saying pitifully, “Jasper, you’re finally here.” Jasper didn’t respond to her. He discreetly pulled his hand away from hers, leaving Ann standing there awkwardly. Jasper stared straight at me and said firmly, “I don’t agree to getting married. I’ll make my own decisions about my marriage.” Then he turned to Ann and said, “I’ll take you home.” I lowered my head, not wanting to see Jasper being gentle with another woman. “You little brat! If you dare walk out that door today, I’ll disown you!” Mr. Thompson shouted. Jasper paused for a moment, then left without looking back. Ann hurried after him. Jasper didn’t come back all day. To avoid me, he didn’t even want to come home. Perhaps leaving would be the better choice. I lay in bed unable to sleep, the image of Jasper leaving with Ann replaying in my mind. To distract myself, I opened my social media. The first post was from my aunt: “Congratulations to my sister on her new house, and to my nephew on his new home.” This family would be the same with or without me. I was always the extra one. I closed my eyes, letting tears soak my pillow. The next morning, I groggily opened my eyes to see someone standing by my bed holding a breakfast tray. It startled me, but it was just Jasper. I don’t know how long he had been standing there. I thought he had come to make amends, but I was wrong. “Mom said pregnant women sleep a lot, so she asked me to check if you were awake. Now that you’re up, eat your breakfast. We need to talk after.” He had stubble on his chin and looked tired. While I ate breakfast, Jasper sat nearby staring out the window, his brows furrowed. I swallowed the last bite and said, “Jasper, I’m done. What did you want to say?” “Do you really want to keep this baby?” Jasper looked at me intently, his eyes filled with emotions I couldn’t decipher. “Yes, I want to keep it.” “Hah, Jane. Do you think keeping this baby will guarantee you a comfortable life? You’re quite the schemer, aren’t you? It must have been exhausting pretending around me for so long.” Jasper’s words infuriated me. “Jasper Thompson! I never planned to tell you about the baby in the first place. Don’t worry, isn’t this what you wanted? To get rid of me? You don’t have to say it, I was planning to leave today anyway! I won’t stay here and bother you anymore!” “Get out of my way.” I pushed past Jasper and started throwing clothes into my suitcase. Jasper stood motionless, but I could see from the corner of my eye that his fists were clenched tightly, veins popping out. Our commotion alerted Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. “Jane, what are you doing?” Mrs. Thompson took the clothes from my hands, stopping my actions. Jasper and I were both too angry to speak. Mr. Thompson’s gaze swept over the luggage on the floor, then turned to Jasper, his face dropping. “Jasper Thompson! Did you upset Jane?!” Mr. Thompson shouted. “Not talking, huh? Maria, bring me my cane. If I don’t teach this boy a lesson today, he’ll never learn how to be a decent person!” “Honey, stay with Jane. Jasper, get out here!” Mr. Thompson dragged Jasper out by his collar. Jasper had told me before that his father was a strict parent. When he was young, he often got disciplined, but after his teenage years, Mr. Thompson had never raised a hand to him again. Mr. Thompson must have been truly angry today. Mr. Thompson’s trust in me provided a small comfort, but Jasper’s hurtful words still pierced my heart like a knife. Maybe it was because of the pregnancy, but I felt more emotional than usual. Large tears rolled down my cheeks. Mrs. Thompson hugged me tenderly, gently patting my back. She said, “Jane, don’t be upset. It’s all that silly boy’s fault. I’ll make him apologize to you! He’ll kneel on durian if he has to! Later, I’ll show you his embarrassing childhood photos. If he dares to upset you again, we’ll post them on social media and let him lose face!” I was crying and hiccuping, but Mrs. Thompson’s words touched my heart. Putting Jasper aside, having such a mother-in-law would truly be a blessing. That afternoon, while taking a walk in the park with Mrs. Thompson, I once again brought up the idea of moving out. Mrs. Thompson refused to agree no matter what. In the end, we both compromised. I would continue to stay with the Thompsons, but I wouldn’t accept the gifts they had given me. Jasper and I had already broken up, and I couldn’t accept things from his family without a clear status. Mrs. Thompson couldn’t persuade me otherwise, so she had to compromise, saying she would keep the gifts for me until Jasper and I got married. Jasper and I… could we really get married? That night when I entered my room, I found that my bed had been changed to a bunk bed. Was Mrs. Thompson planning to move in and sleep with me? The next second, Jasper walked in with a sour face. “I’m sorry. You’re pregnant now, so you shouldn’t get too emotional.” What a half-hearted apology. “It’s nothing. I’m leaving.” Jasper yanked the door open. “Ouch!” Mrs. Thompson, who had been eavesdropping outside, nearly fell over. “Mom, what are you doing?” “Smack!” A crisp sound as Mrs. Thompson’s hand landed on Jasper’s back. “Jasper Thompson, can’t you be more sincere?!” “And where do you think you’re going? Starting today, you’ll be sharing a room with Jane.” “What?!” Jasper and I exclaimed simultaneously. “You don’t need to go to the company for now. Just focus on taking good care of Jane.” “No way! I refuse!” Jasper reacted strongly. “If you don’t accept it, then get out!” “Fine, fine, I’ll leave. I wonder who’s really your child here!” His tone sounded almost hurt and jealous. Jasper really did leave, and he didn’t show up for several weeks. Days passed uneventfully. During my time with the Thompson family, I deeply felt the warmth of a loving home. Mrs. Thompson prepared nutritious meals for me every day, always trying new recipes. Grandma Thompson and Mrs. Thompson, afraid I might get bored, kept me company with flower arranging, chess, chatting, and walks. Mr. Thompson, though more serious, also cared about me, often bringing home various nutritional supplements. I became increasingly attached to this place, not wanting to leave. But I knew it was impossible, especially since Jasper seemed to dislike me so much. Thinking of this, I let out a helpless sigh. “Jane, what are you thinking about?” Mrs. Thompson asked. “Nothing,” I said with a smile, shaking my head. “Then why don’t you come with me for a spa day this afternoon!” “Sure.” It wasn’t until we arrived at the beauty salon that I realized Mrs. Thompson wasn’t here for a spa treatment at all. She was here to introduce me to the family! Jasper’s aunts and female relatives sat in a row, smiling at me. The feeling of being scrutinized by a group of wealthy ladies – who could understand! “Jane, this is Jasper’s eldest aunt.” “Hello, Eldest Aunt.” “This is Jasper’s second aunt.” “Hello, Second Aunt.” “This is Jasper’s…” … Mrs. Thompson led me through a round of greetings. I smiled and nodded the whole time, my face almost cramping. By the end of it, I had not only become familiar with everyone but also received a stack of red envelopes. During this time, I endured many exaggerated compliments.

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After seven years of marriage, Hudson Johnson removed the video of our wedding announcement from his streaming platform. He insisted, “To reassure my sweetheart, let me clarify once more: Sorry, I’ve always been single.” Meanwhile, his assistant’s account shared a photo with the caption: “Mom and Dad are really looking forward to your arrival.” In the photo, a man’s hand gently caresses her belly, as if it were fragile. I noticed the black mole on the man’s ring finger and pulled my daughter into my arms. “Sweetie, how about I find you a new dad?” My daughter nodded and then took the phone to comment: [Auntie, since my dad has a new baby, I should have a new dad too.] After typing, Stella turned around and hugged me, her small body warming me. “Mom, I’m here, I’ll always be with you.” Before I could even settle my emotions, Hudson Johnson called, ready to berate me. “Avery Johnson, haven’t you had enough? What are you teaching Stella this time?” “I’ve told you countless times, the relationship with Scarlett Lee is for the company’s image. When will you stop?” “Besides, you’re a mother now, still competing and being jealous every day. Do you really think you’re still young? Avery Johnson, you’re disgusting.” As soon as I answered, Hudson Johnson’s accusations came crashing down. I tightened my grip on the phone, a mocking look in my eyes. After seven years of marriage with Hudson Johnson, I know him too well. The louder he talks, the angrier he seems, the guiltier he actually is. I took a deep breath and asked, “Does your company need to fabricate a relationship to the point of causing a real-life scandal?” It was just a simple question, but on the other end, a woman’s sobbing came through. “Brother Johnson, you don’t need to explain for me anymore. If Sister Avery doesn’t like me, I’ll resign now.” Scarlett Lee’s pitiful act made Hudson Johnson instantly angry, “Don’t worry about her, you’re my assistant. Without my consent, let’s see who dares to fire you!” “Avery, if you keep involving Stella in your antics, don’t blame me for being harsh.” With that, without waiting for me to respond, Hudson abruptly hung up the phone. His cold voice still echoed in the room, scaring Stella. As I looked at the phone’s dark screen, my heart was calm. In the past, I would have made a scene at Hudson Johnson’s company, forcing him to fire Scarlett Lee. But now, there’s no need. Just like Stella said, if Hudson Johnson can have another child, then I, Avery Johnson, can find another partner. After all, my first love, Mason Carter, has returned to the country.

In the evening, after his streaming session, Hudson Johnson came back. Seeing Stella and me eating, he went to the kitchen as usual but didn’t find the soup I used to make for him. “Avery, where’s my soup?” Without looking up, I gave Stella a piece of meat and told her to eat quickly. Seeing my indifference, Hudson Johnson’s face darkened, “Avery, you know my stomach isn’t good!” Hearing this, I paused, showing a bit of sarcasm. Yes, I know he has a sensitive stomach, and with his streaming job, he can’t eat on time, so for seven years, I’ve made him a pot of nourishing soup every day. But what did he do? He gave my carefully prepared soup to Scarlett Lee, saying next time not to make it so salty because she doesn’t like it. “So what?” I lifted my eyelids and said calmly, “If your stomach isn’t good, take care of it. If you want soup, cook it yourself. I’m not your nanny.” After speaking, I began cleaning up the dishes, heading to the kitchen. Unexpectedly, as I passed Hudson Johnson, he grabbed my wrist, full of impatience. “Avery, what do you really want? Even mischief should have its limits!” I broke free from his grip, a cold smile on my lips, and said calmly: “I want a divorce.” Hudson Johnson’s hand froze for a moment, a trace of panic on his face, but he quickly returned to normal, releasing me with a sneer: “You’ve got some nerve now, daring to threaten me with divorce. Divorce, are you sure?” “Avery, do you really think you’re still young? You have a 5-year-old child, who would want you after divorcing me?” So, this is his reason for cheating? He figured I, having married and had a child, couldn’t remarry and could only depend on him. It’s absurd. I gave Hudson Johnson a deep look, then took Stella and turned to leave. Perhaps angered by me, Hudson Johnson didn’t come home for a week. This has always been his method after I upset him, using silent treatment to force me to comply. In the past, I would’ve been tormented, unable to sleep, calling to apologize tirelessly, sending gifts in his streaming room, humbly begging for forgiveness. But now, I’m busy moving into a new home, buying furniture, indifferent to whether he comes home or not. After all, I can’t still live in his house after divorcing him. At the furniture store. I was feeling the texture of a sofa when a familiar female voice reached my ears. “Oh, I’m so grateful to Brother Johnson for being here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know what to do.” “What is everyone saying? What new couple buying furniture? I haven’t even confessed to Brother Johnson yet. Stop it, everyone, Scarlett’s shy~” It’s a small world.

Hearing Scarlett Lee’s pretentious voice, I frowned. Stella quickly ran over. “Stella, what are you doing here?” Turning around, I met Hudson Johnson’s face full of disgust. He frowned, grabbed Stella’s collar, and pushed her toward me, his tone full of disdain. “Avery, is it fun to stalk with Stella?” I steadied the stumbling Stella without explaining. A dirty heart sees everything as filthy. Hudson Johnson is sure I’d do such a low thing, so how could he listen to my explanation? I gave him a cold glance and asked: “Is it fun for you to avoid home and shop with another woman?” Hudson Johnson didn’t expect my usual silent obedience to turn into defiance, his eyes flickered. “Scarlett rented a new place. She’s a young girl who can’t choose furniture. As her boss, taking care of her and helping her pick furniture isn’t a big deal, right?” I looked at their interlocked fingers, my expression calm, and asked lightly: “So holding hands is necessary?” Hearing this, Hudson Johnson was stunned, hurriedly releasing their hands. His eyes flickered, his tone urgent, “It’s not what you think.” “Scarlett isn’t like you. Her health isn’t good, so with all the people around, I had to hold her hand to prevent her from getting hurt.” It’s not poor health, but pregnant, right? Looking at Hudson Johnson, who was cautiously watching me, I didn’t react as he expected, just chuckled softly. “You’re right; Scarlett Lee’s health is important.” Seeing me so calm, Hudson Johnson looked surprised. He seemed to want to explain more, but I interrupted, “Go ahead and pick your furniture. Don’t keep Scarlett waiting.” With that, I took Stella and prepared to leave. Unexpectedly, Scarlett Lee followed with a streaming phone. She gently caressed her belly with her left hand, smiling softly, her eyes showing a hint of triumph. Scarlett Lee squatted down, placing Stella’s hand on her belly. “Stella, do you want to see your little brother?” I darkened my expression, pulling Stella back, “She doesn’t have a brother.” “Really?” Scarlett Lee smiled faintly, leaning closer, “But I’m also carrying Hudson Johnson’s child.” Sensing something wrong, I wanted to back away, but Scarlett Lee had already retreated, sitting on the floor. Before I could react, a slap struck my face, my head hitting the corner of a solid wood display table, making me black out. Hudson Johnson rushed over, carefully helping Scarlett Lee up, yelling at me: “Avery Johnson, when will you stop your madness!”

“Mom!” Faced with this sudden change, Stella turned pale, rushing over to cover my forehead. Seeing the blood on her hand, her small hands trembled with anger, her little face taut as she looked at Hudson Johnson, “Apologize to Mom!” Hudson Johnson sneered, his eyes full of indifference, “Apologize? Your mom Avery is the one who should apologize. If anything happens to Scarlett, I won’t forgive her.” Scarlett Lee’s face was tear-streaked, looking considerate, a fleeting hint of smugness in her eyes, but she said: “Brother Johnson, don’t say that. I’m sure Sister didn’t mean to push me. Don’t be mad at her because of me…” “But, Brother, our child…” Hearing Scarlett Lee’s sobs, Hudson Johnson became even angrier, glaring at me. I felt his hatred, but my vision was still blurry, my chest tight and breathless. Stella couldn’t stand my humiliation, knowing the truth, she rushed over and pointed at Scarlett Lee to argue. “You’re lying, I saw it all. You fell by yourself.” “Liar, I hate you…” Before she could finish, I saw Hudson Johnson clench his fist. My heart tightened, and I used all my strength, my voice hoarse:

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I thought Ashton Bennett loved me intensely during our five years of marriage. Until the night Macy Hart, my half-sister, returned to the country. Ashton left me at home and went to the airport to pick her up. He didn’t come back that night. Early the following day, Macy posted a picture on her Instagram burner account: “When you’re with the right person, every day feels like Valentine’s Day.” The accompanying photo? Macy and Ashton are kissing and surrounded by his circle of friends, celebrating. Content After work, I grabbed dinner at a restaurant downtown and strolled through Riverfront Park. I delayed going home until it was completely dark. When I got back, the lights were on. Ashton was home—a rare sight these days. He took my coat and bag and hung them on the rack. “Why are you home so late?” he asked. “Did you eat yet? I can make you some noodles.” I used to be the one saying those lines and doing those things. Who was he performing for now? My voice was cold. “I have a meeting tomorrow. Don’t bother.” I caught a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt? Discomfort? It only made me feel more disgusted. Was this his attempt to make amends after sneaking off with Macy to a hotel last night? I headed straight for the guest room. Ashton grabbed my wrist. “Lila, about last night…” I turned around. The dim light from the hallway highlighted his pale face, beads of cold sweat glistening on his forehead. His usually sharp jawline was rough with stubble. For years, I adored that face. Now, it only repulsed me. Love and its absence—how starkly different they feel. I didn’t let him finish. I walked into the guest room, shutting the door in his face. Last night, I painstakingly prepared a special dinner and even reminded him to come home early. He had no idea I planned to tell him I was pregnant. But instead, he took a phone call, claimed he had to work late, and left for the night. I waited for him in silence, sitting on the couch until dawn. The dishes I’d cooked remained untouched, cold. The ice cream cake I ordered weeks ago sat in its box, melting into a sticky puddle on the floor. As I decided to clean up, my phone pinged with a notification. It was a post from a burner Instagram account I didn’t recognize, one of Ashton’s followers. The account posted a live picture just minutes ago: “When you’re with the right person, every day feels like Valentine’s Day.” The photo was of Ashton kissing Macy. His friends, all cheering, surrounded them. Those friends—five years of marriage, and I had never met them. Whenever I tried to join his social circle, he would brush me off, calling them mere drinking buddies. That night, I scrolled through every post-Macy had ever shared. It was all there—photos, captions, proof. They had been meeting behind my back for years. In her posts, Ashton was caring, attentive, and generous—willing to give her the world. This side of him was a stranger to me.

The guest room door creaked open. Before I could react, Ashton wrapped his arms around me, his body hot against mine. My skin prickled with revulsion as nausea climbed up my throat. His hand slid down my back, fingers restless and invasive. I shoved him off with all my strength, grabbed a pillow, and stormed out of the room. He stood frozen for a moment, his expression unreadable in the shadows. We grew up together in the same close-knit community. Our parents were lifelong friends, and our bond was unshakable. The summer after sophomore year in college, he confessed his feelings. We started dating soon after. But that same year, my father came home with the news: a mix-up at the hospital years ago. The daughter he brought home wasn’t his biological child—Macy was. Macy entered our lives, delicate and teary-eyed, clinging to my father like a lifeline. “Dad, why is she still here? Don’t you love me?” she sobbed. “Sorry, sis,” she whimpered, voice trembling with practiced innocence. “I know I’m intruding. I’ll go if you want me to leave—no matter how hard it gets out there. I’m used to suffering.” My father, overcome with guilt, told me to leave instead. I laughed bitterly, packed the savings my mother left behind, and walked out. A year later, Macy showed up at my university, courtesy of my father’s connections. She played nice on the surface but undermined me at every turn. She sabotaged my friendships and got my graduate scholarship offer rescinded using my father’s influence. She even got me evicted from my dorm. Her petty schemes didn’t faze me—I refused to waste energy on someone so cheap. I believed I had something she could never take: Ashton. Macy relentlessly pursued him, even publicly confessing her feelings. She cozied up to his friends, tried to learn his routines, and orchestrated run-ins on campus. On Instagram, she chronicled her infatuation, obsessively documenting every interaction. Ashton dismissed her as clingy and pathetic, openly humiliating her more than once. For three years, Macy stuck to him like glue.

I once thought she genuinely loved Ashton. That was until she smugly declared, “Sis, I’m going to take everything you have—starting with Ashton.” I brushed her off. I had no doubt Ashton loved me. Our bond was built on years of trust and affection. When I was kicked out of my dorm, he rented me a penthouse apartment near campus for a year. He remembered all my preferences, waited in line overnight for a Coachella ticket so I could get a front-row spot, and handled all the logistics for our ski trips. All I had to do was enjoy the scenery. I trusted him completely. Macy’s games could never shake that. After graduation, Macy disappeared without a word. I thought her obsession with Ashton was finally over. Then came the photo on Instagram. Her second year of chasing him was when things began to change. He started looking at her differently. Sitting in the living room that night, the air felt thick, suffocating. Ashton buried his face in his hands, silent. “What’s wrong with you?” He didn’t answer, so I pressed. “Explain last night.” “I told you, I was working late! Why are you so jealous all the time? This is why our relationship is strained—you don’t take any responsibility for your behavior!” I laughed, hollow and bitter. Once, I thought Ashton was the most honest, loyal, moral man in the world. I never checked his phone or questioned where he went. He always volunteered the details. I realized those updates were just excuses for sneaking around with Macy. He played on my trust, and I fell for it repeatedly. His voice grew harsher. “Do you want me to call everyone from work right now so you can interrogate them? Would that make you happy?” I felt drained. What was the point? Even if I uncovered the truth, the betrayal was already a wound too deep to heal.

Years of trust shattered overnight. It hurt, but I knew clinging to illusions would only worsen it. Facing the truth and letting go was the only real choice. Frustrated by my silent treatment, Ashton slammed the door and left the house, his face dark with anger. I didn’t care. I focused on work. A few years ago, my father was diagnosed with leukemia. His health rapidly declined, and so did the company’s finances. “The company’s cash flow has dried up,” he confessed. “It’s on the verge of collapse.” At that moment, I realized how trivial grudges and betrayals seemed in the face of life and death. Despite his faults, my father had raised me for eighteen years. I took over the failing company, juggling work demands and his hospital care. It was exhausting. On the other hand, Macy left the country and never came back to check on him—or anyone else. One morning, I dressed quickly to avoid running into Ashton, but luck wasn’t on my side. Stepping out of the bedroom, I saw him standing in the kitchen, smiling as if nothing had happened the night before. He gestured toward the table. “Come have breakfast.” His eyes lingered on my arm, and he silently handed me a custom-made long-sleeve shirt. He had ordered so many of these over the past five years, all to hide the scar on my left arm. It was from a fire during a trip overseas. A restaurant caught fire, and Ashton fainted from smoke inhalation. I had already escaped, but I went back to save him. A burst light fixture exploded, leaving my arm with a severe burn.

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My roommate likes to take cold showers on the porch balcony. She claims it helps detox her body and brightens her skin. I tried to warn her: “You really should protect your privacy.” Not only did she ignore me, but she doubled down, accusing me of being jealous of her figure. Eventually, photos of her showering were posted online. Some street punks came to our dorm to harass her, threatening to strip her clothes off. She pointed the finger at me, saying, “It’s her! She’s the shameless one showering out on the balcony!” I was dragged into Willowshade Park by those punks and violated until death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back the same day she started taking cold showers on the porch. …… Content “Juliette, can you grab my body wash? It’s on my desk.” “I’m busy showering. Not convenient.” Lyric Ashcroft, my roommate, was on the porch balcony, soaking in cold water and basking in the sunlight with an ecstatic expression on her face. Harper Hall Dorms wasn’t tall—just three floors. Down below, people came and went, and anyone glancing up could see Lyric’s display fully. But Lyric didn’t care. Instead, she twisted her body even more provocatively as if she wanted the world to admire her figure. The neighboring building housed the boys’ dorm. Some guys deliberately wandered past just to steal a glance at her. Watching Lyric flaunt herself like this made me tremble with rage. I wanted to storm out there and strangle her. The scene was identical to what I had witnessed in my previous life. I suppressed the fury bubbling inside me. Now wasn’t the time to act. Killing her would be too easy. I needed her to suffer the consequences of her actions—that was the only way to quench my burning hatred. Expressionless, I grabbed the bottle of body wash from her desk. So you love showering on the balcony? Fine. You’ll shower to your heart’s content. In my previous life, Lyric had come across a blog post claiming that cold showers followed by sunbathing helped detox the body, brighten the skin, and even achieve a perfect tan. She believed it wholeheartedly and began copying the routine. At first, she took cold showers in the dorm bathroom, wrapping herself in a towel to sunbathe on the porch afterward. That was somewhat understandable. But then she decided it was too much hassle. She installed a makeshift shower on the porch so she could wash and sunbathe simultaneously, claiming it was the most efficient detox method. Sunbathing in itself isn’t a big deal. But our dorm was on the third floor, and the porch had a clear glass railing. Anyone passing by could see her. While most people used the porch to dry clothes, Lyric used it to put herself on display. Worried she’d attract unwanted attention, I once threw a towel over her and dragged her inside. I tried to warn her that showering outside was a privacy risk and could invite trouble from the wrong people. Lyric just sneered and yanked off the towel. “If they’re only looking at me and not anyone else, doesn’t that prove I’m attractive?” she said smugly. “It’s the 21st century, Juliette. Are you some Victorian prude? Get with the times.” “And honestly? You’re just jealous because my body’s better than yours.” I was speechless at her twisted logic and could only let her continue her balcony antics. Eventually, someone uploaded photos of her to the Campus Buzz Board. Though her face was blurred, the rest of her body was straightforward. The photos caused a massive stir. Everyone speculated about who the girl was. Some guys even made crude jokes about bringing telescopes to the dorms for a better view. Soon, groups of male students—and even punks from off-campus—crowded below our dorm. It disrupted everyone’s lives. The uproar angered the female students, who banded together in protest.

The girls ranted in the WhatsApp Group, calling her shameless and indecent and accusing her of trying to steal their boyfriends. Lyric, furious, taunted them back, saying they were plain, unattractive, and lacked charm. “If your boyfriend leaves you for me, that’s your problem, not mine,” she snapped. Someone screenshotted her toxic remarks and shared them on MyCampus Forum and TikTok. The scandal grew, trending online as more and more people took sides. The outrage was fierce. Female students formed the Campus Conduct Task Force, vowing to expose and humiliate the girl in the photos. Before they could act, a gang of punks showed up at our dorm, demanding that the girl in the photos spend the night with them. Sensing danger, Lyric panicked. She pointed at me to save herself, accusing me, “It’s her! She’s the one showering on the balcony!” She even claimed I was the one who made nasty comments in the WhatsApp Group, using my account to post them without my knowledge. Before I could explain, the punks dragged me to Willowshade Park. Desperate, I begged our other roommate, Quinn Langley, to help me. Quinn coldly sided with Lyric. “Juliette, don’t try to blame this on Lyric. Own up to what you’ve done.” “At most, they’ll strip you. It’s not the end of the world.” “You need to take responsibility for your actions.” And so, I was dragged into the woods, violated until death, and left naked on the street like garbage. Passersby spat on my body, calling me disgusting, while my corpse rotted in the open. Lyric, untouched, posted an apology on my behalf, claiming she had tried to help me reform. The comments praised her while cursing me. Lyric became a viral content creator, landing brand deals left and right. Meanwhile, I was left to decay, forgotten and unloved. But fate gave me another chance. This time, I’ll make sure Lyric Ashcroft and Quinn Langley pay. “Juliette? What’s taking so long? Bring it here!” Snapped from my thoughts, I smiled faintly and handed her the body wash. “Here you go. Take your time. You said the longer you wash and sunbathe, the better the results, right? Make it even.” Lyric grabbed the bottle, pleased, and began lathering herself. “Juliette, do you think my skin looks better these days?” she asked, rubbing her arms. I glanced at the bustling crowd below. Morning classes had just ended, and the area was packed. “Definitely,” I said. “Cold showers and sunlight are magical for detoxing. Your skin’s glowing, and you’re more radiant than ever.” Flattered, Lyric became even more enthusiastic. She crouched, spreading her legs to wash herself intimately, entirely oblivious to the phones aimed at her from the boys’ dorm across the way. In my last life, her face was blurred in the photos, allowing her to blame me. Not this time. “Lyric!” I called loudly. “Do you need a towel?” Startled, she turned to look at me. The cameras caught her face, and her name was soon whispered among the growing crowd below. “She’s Lyric Ashcroft?” “Man, what a slut.” “She looks more like a working girl than a student.”

The whispers and stares from the crowd below reached Lyric’s ears, and her face turned pale. “Juliette! You did this on purpose, didn’t you? All those people downstairs—are you trying to humiliate me?” So, she does feel shame. It’s good to know she’s not entirely shameless. Maybe her attempt to pin everything on me in my previous life wasn’t just an accident. Feigning innocence, I said, “I was just worried you’d catch a chill from staying out here too long. Why would I try to humiliate you?” “You’re so magnetic, Lyric. Even showering gets you an audience. Just look at those guys—they can’t take their eyes off you.” “If I had your perfect body, I’d probably shower here too.” The words tasted bitter, and I barely stopped myself from gagging. Lyric, however, was flattered. She gave a smug, slight hum and kept on washing. “Well, of course, I have that effect.” Then she gave me a once-over, her tone dripping with disdain. “You? Please. You’re flat as a board. Even if you stripped naked, no one would bother looking.” I curled my lips into a faint smile but didn’t respond. Go ahead, Lyric. Laugh while you can. Her photos were plastered all over the Campus Buzz Board by the next day. The accompanying comments were merciless: “Hey, girl, how about maintaining a little dignity? Stop flaunting yourself.” “Does the college not have showers? Why the balcony?” “Most of us have partners here. Are you trying to tempt someone’s boyfriend?” “Cover yourself up. Don’t you feel gross?” Zooming in on the photo, I saw it was like in my last life—Lyric crouched, washing herself intimately, her face blurred out. The post caused an uproar in the WhatsApp Group, with some students even overhearing her name being mentioned near the dorms. Female students were outraged, calling her behavior disgraceful and immoral. The male students, meanwhile, reveled in the chaos, egging it on. “Free show, you all. Time to call up the squad!” “She’s a Modern Saint! Who needs to pay outside when she’s offering it for free here?” “Y’all just jealous of her figure.” The group was divided entirely. I casually handed my phone to Lyric, feigning concern. “Lyric, maybe it’s time to stop showering on the balcony.” “Sure, your skin looks amazing and gorgeous, but this kind of attention isn’t great. People are upset.” “Why not shower downstairs and come back up to sunbathe? Same results.” Lyric, seething as she scrolled through the comments, hurled my phone to the floor, then stormed around the dorm in a rage. “You conniving witch! Those jealous cows can’t stand that I’m prettier than them!” “They’re just ugly! Picking on me for no reason!” “Yes, I have an amazing body. Yes, I’m stunning! No matter how much they hate me, it doesn’t change the facts!” I calmly picked up my phone and patted her shoulder. “You’re right, you know. You’re just taking a shower. You’ve done nothing wrong.” “And look, you’ve got so many guys defending you. That’s your charm working its magic.” Lyric’s anger subsided slightly. “But maybe it’s better not to fight them,” I continued, gently fanning the flames. “Let it go?” Lyric took the bait, stomping her foot. “Let it go? Why should I? I’ve done nothing wrong! They’re the ones starting this!” She snatched at my phone, but I’d already set a password. “Stupid phone!” she fumed. I quickly reclaimed it. If she used my phone again, I’d be in trouble.

Frustrated, Lyric stormed off to Quinn Langley for help. “Quinn! Juliette is the worst!” “She won’t defend me in the group chat, even after all the hate I’m getting. And she won’t let me borrow her phone!” “If I could log in, I’d handle it myself!” She added a pitiful pout, her eyes glistening with fake tears. Naturally, Quinn fell for it. Quinn, our dorm leader and head of the college arts committee, loved bossing people around. She already disliked me for refusing to run her errands, which had made her and Lyric inseparable allies. If Lyric wanted something, Quinn was the first to help. She even bought Lyric the shower kit for her balcony antics. As expected, Quinn took Lyric’s side. “Juliette, what’s the big deal? Just let her use your phone!” “If you won’t speak up for her, fine, but setting a password? Seriously?” I smirked, grabbed Quinn’s phone, and handed it to Lyric. “You two are so close—why don’t you use her phone?” “Go ahead, Lyric. Quinn’s in the group chat, too. Use hers to respond.” “Show them who’s boss.” Quinn froze between anger and reluctance as Lyric gleefully took her phone. Lyric’s eyes gleamed as she launched into the chat: “Wow, so sensitive. If you’re that insecure about your age, maybe consider some cosmetic treatments.” “Can’t keep your boyfriend interested? Maybe that’s your problem for being boring and ugly.” “Let’s face it—you’re just jealous. Even if you stripped down, no one would care.” The chat exploded. Lyric felt vindicated, but Quinn began to panic as her notifications piled up with angry messages and threats. “Why’d you let her use my phone?!” she hissed. Feigning innocence, I shrugged. “Quinn, how could you say that? She’s your best friend. Why wouldn’t you let her use it?” Quinn fell silent, forced to leave the group in humiliation. But it didn’t end there. That night, the group chat leaked Lyric’s inflammatory messages and her uncensored photos online. By the following day, her antics on the porch balcony and her nasty comments had gone viral, making the rounds on TikTok and MyCampus Forum. That afternoon, our dorm door rattled with angry knocks. A swarm of female students crowded outside, their shouts echoing through the hall: “Get out here, you trashy little skank! You’re done!” “You had plenty to say in the chat—why are you hiding now?” “We’ll make sure you regret it!” Lyric turned pale as a sheet. From my bed, I stretched lazily, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Lyric sounds like they’re here for you,” I said. “Shouldn’t you go see what they want?” I nudged her lightly. She shrank back, trembling, and clung to Quinn. Lyric was all bark and no bite—a coward through and through. “Juliette, I’m scared! Can’t you check for me?” Like in my previous life, she tried pushing me into the fire.

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