Category: English

You have a beautiful canary. You keep him imprisoned in a golden cage, admiring his beauty, vulnerability, and what you consider his “ugly side”. He never hides his hatred for you, and coincidentally, you’ve never shown him your love either. “Come here.” He seems not to have heard your command. You watch him leisurely, your expression showing no displeasure. His gaze, filled with caution and observation, remains fixed on you, as if trying to guess your current mood. “I’ll say it one more time. Liam, come here.” He hesitates for a moment but eventually walks over. As he moves, the chains constantly jingle. You don’t find it jarring; instead, you watch him with a pleasant mood. “Do you remember what we’re supposed to do today?” He frowns. His once clear and bright eyes are now a dull gray, and his whole demeanor is listless, yet there’s a kind of reckless beauty about him. Yes, beautiful. In bed, you often say things to insult him. Although his parents didn’t care much for him growing up, he had a very good material life. His strength isn’t great, and his desperate resistance is easily overcome by you. You can effortlessly bring him to the bed. In his desperate gaze, you torment him again and again. At first, he would cry. Unlike his cold body temperature, his tears are scalding hot. Sometimes you gently wipe away his tears, sometimes you get more excited, and sometimes you pretend to let him go, only to punish him severely after hope has sparked in his eyes. And you, you always prefer the third option. You really like seeing his incredulous look. That fragile feeling of shattered hope. Ah, truly… irresistible to you. However, because of these actions, you have no credibility in his eyes. In the dark room, there’s a moment of silence. You twist the ring on your right ring finger, saying carelessly, “Oh? Forgot?” You know he hasn’t forgotten; he’s already trembling. He looks so pitiful. You smile. You look at his downcast eyes. “Avoidance won’t work, be good, Liam.” He slowly walks forward, like a walking corpse, and opens the door for you. This is also your wicked pleasure.

You gave him the key to the golden cage. This golden cage isn’t actually very big, but it’s exquisite. In the past, after being bullied and cleaned up by you, he would often curl up in the corner, hugging his knees. You didn’t know if he cried or not. He was quiet, not making a sound, even when tears streamed down his face from your torment, he would only make a little noise when you were particularly rough. Actually, you were unsatisfied, and this dissatisfaction manifested in even more intense sexual encounters. But he seemed to be stubborn with you, refusing to give in to your wishes. You didn’t care, it wasn’t you who was in pain. Moreover, his behavior made it easier to arouse your sadistic desires. It must be said that during those days, you had a particularly good time. But he was in a much worse state. After cleaning him up, you said, “Liam, you need to be good, understand?” … He lay on the bed, eyes closed, not sure if he heard. “Three, two, one…” “Mm.” An unwilling sound came from under the blanket. Satisfaction flashed in your eyes. As a reward, you decided to go abroad to discuss a few projects first, and not torment Liam for a while.

One time, you walked over to him, forcibly lifted his chin, and examined his face. His eyes still had a hint of redness. “Why are you crying?” He glared at you. You said indifferently, “Your performance was decent this time. Do you want to see your parents?” Liam’s expression darkened. In the first few days, he would often curse you as a beast, saying he wanted to break off the engagement, that he wanted to go home. He even attempted suicide several times. Under your repeated violent suppression and torture, he submitted.

Liam Harper was the eldest son of the Harper family, which actually held quite a high social status, though not as high as yours. Originally, the Harper family had planned to arrange a marriage between their younger daughter and you, as your public image was that of a decent person. But you said, “Mrs. Harper, actually, I’ve liked Liam for a long time.” Mrs. Harper was surprised, but remembering that you and Liam were from the same high school and likely had quite a bit of interaction, and given that their family was quite open-minded, she agreed to the marriage. Moreover, your family’s influence was broader, so of course, they agreed to the engagement. Thus, in the second year after your graduation, you and Liam got married. At first, you wore a mask of gentleness, treating him well. You and he maintained a respectful distance. After about two or three months, once you had prepared the basement, on Liam’s nineteenth birthday, you locked him in the golden cage. From then on, day and night, he could only endure everything alone. You still remember his incredulous gaze, his tearful pleas, his helpless and frightened appearance, his embarrassed face-covering… His fierce resistance in the past made you particularly excited. Sometimes you wanted him to be more obedient, after all, you were tired after a long day and wanted to relax in a gentle embrace, but he was so disobedient. Now he’s much more docile, but you find yourself missing his previous demeanor. “Didn’t you used to cry and make a fuss about wanting to go home? Why don’t you want to go back now?” His hands clenched into fists, his voice still hoarse. As he spoke, tears fell uncontrollably. He lowered his head, not letting you see his post-climax expression. “I thought…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, but you knew what he wanted to say. After all, he was now a “dead” person. In what capacity could he go see his parents? Moreover, his parents had their own new children now. How would they care about this child from a previous marriage?

When he first learned that he had been declared “dead”, his mood was very low, but you didn’t spare him. Five years had passed, and you were very familiar with his body. You easily aroused him, making him very disheveled. However, good-looking people have a kind of beauty no matter what state they’re in. You took photos. Actually, in the year he turned nineteen, in those few months when you revealed your true nature, you took many photos of him. There’s a printer at home. You personally printed those photos and plastered them all over an entire room, as his twentieth birthday gift. He said you were crazy. You laughed, pointing at those unspeakable photos, lazily saying, “How beautiful. Liam really doesn’t know how to appreciate.”

Liam actually had a cleanliness obsession. Because of this, he was very generous. During spring and autumn outings, he would buy snacks and distribute them to his friends, often one pack per person. Many people secretly said how good it was to be friends with Liam. But since you discovered this, you had to make good use of it. As for how you discovered it? You are a very wicked person. You’ve always known this. You like to see him dirty. Sometimes you deliberately don’t help him clean up. At those times, he would use what little strength he had left, his slender white hands reaching through the golden bars, grabbing your pant leg. Then, hoarsely begging you. “Help me…” The first time you were called back, you raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding his meaning. “Help you what?” “Help me… clean up…” Your expression almost instantly darkened. “What? You think it’s dirty?” “…” He didn’t know how to answer. “I feel uncomfortable…” He showed weakness. It must be said. If he had always spoken to you like this, you would definitely have treated him well. But who knows? He only begs for mercy when he can’t bear it anymore. Tsk.

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In the dead of night, I was jolted awake by the vibration of my phone, my body burning with fever. The voice on the other end was one I’d never forget – it was my daughter calling! But that was impossible. My daughter had died three years ago! Receiving a call from my daughter, I suddenly sat up in bed, my bare feet touching the cold floor. “Lily, is it really you? It’s Mom.” The phone crackled with static, but soon my daughter’s voice became clearer. “Mom, didn’t we just pay the electricity bill yesterday? Why is there suddenly a power outage? I’m so scared. Mom, where are you? Please come back quickly.” It was my daughter’s voice! There was no mistake! Wait a minute! A power outage? My heart suddenly contracted, and my breathing became rapid. Three years ago, on the day my daughter passed away, there was an unexplained power outage in our apartment building. My daughter was killed at home, waiting for me to return until her last breath. But I couldn’t go back because I was working overtime on a crucial project. I told her to use a flashlight and wait at home, and I called my husband to go back. Lily was only twelve, enjoying her perfect vacation. I had promised to take her to Disneyland, but all that awaited was her cold body. I pinched myself hard, feeling the pain distinctly. I didn’t know what was happening, and I couldn’t believe I was dreaming. I didn’t care who was on the other end of the phone, but I couldn’t let her get hurt. “Lily, lock the front door and hide in Mom’s bedroom. Get under the bed, cover yourself with the panel, and don’t open the door for anyone!” The master bedroom’s bed was custom-designed. The space underneath was hollow for easy cleaning, with a panel to cover it. From the outside, it looked like a solid bed touching the floor. I heard rustling sounds on the other end, and after a while, my daughter asked in a low voice, “Should I not open the door even if it’s you or Dad knocking?” I couldn’t take any chances. I had to nip any evil in the bud. “Dad and I have keys, Lily. Don’t worry. Mom will find a way to get back soon.” “Okay, Mom. I’ll wait for you to come back.” Lily told me the time on her end was ten minutes to 3 AM. I remembered that my daughter’s autopsy report showed her time of death as 3 AM. I instructed Lily not to speak and to dim her phone’s screen. I felt my forehead, which was burning like a small furnace. However, my palms and back were covered in cold sweat. I fumbled around the nightstand for fever and pain medication while thinking about how to resolve this crisis. If my daughter from three years ago could call me, could I also call myself from three years ago? But Lily’s smartwatch was set to only make calls and send text messages. If I hung up now and called back later, it would make a sound! Communicating via text would be too slow! So, I could only try to text my past self and my husband from three years ago, urging them to rush home and save our daughter. In the silent air, only the intermittent breathing of my daughter and me could be heard. One minute, two minutes… Ding! Incredibly, I received a reply! I received a text from myself to myself. And three consecutive SnapChat messages from my husband. [Our daughter died three years ago!] [What are you going crazy about now!?] [Don’t run around, stay at home. I’ll be back soon.] The SnapChat message alerts went “ding ding ding.” I felt my head throbbing, the pain intensifying. What should I do? I had no way to contact my husband and myself from three years ago. How could I save my daughter? In my anxiety, I accidentally knocked over the medicine bottle on the nightstand. Instinctively reaching to catch it, I bumped the water glass. The glass tumbler crashed to the floor, making a piercing sound. Shards scattered everywhere, water dripping from the edge of the nightstand. The back of my hand was cut by flying glass fragments. But I couldn’t even feel the pain. I quickly covered the phone’s microphone, praying that nothing had been heard on the other end. But it was too late! From the other end of the phone came a man’s sinister and triumphant laugh. “Hehe, I’ve found you!” My head buzzed as if hit by a bomb! “No! Please, spare Lily!” I shouted frantically into the phone. But what came next was a sound of despair. My daughter’s screams of agony, mixed with the man’s eerie, excited laughter. Then, abruptly, both laughters ceased. The phone emitted a devastating sound. “Bzz bzz bzz…”

I couldn’t control my screams, like a lion caught in a trap. I swept everything off the nightstand, and the warm yellow lamp flickered twice before going out. The entire bedroom plunged into endless darkness. Suddenly, there was a heavy pounding on the door behind me. “What are you doing!” My husband, Jack, was back. He turned on the light, and I felt like a drowning person, struggling in the cold embrace, waiting desperately for God to save me. Jack frowned, quickly running over to hug me. At that moment, I seemed to find my anchor, believing that my daughter and I would soon be saved. I told him everything that had just happened, but Jack gripped my shoulders and shook me. “Wake up! Lily is dead! Three years ago, someone broke in to rob us, and our daughter was killed!” “I know, but just now, it was clearly Lily calling me.” I stubbornly redialed the number, wanting to prove that everything I said was true. Although our daughter had passed away, I had kept her smartwatch. I secretly kept it charged and paid the phone bill. However, when I dialed, it showed the number was not in service! The exact same number, and the service hadn’t been disconnected, how could it be out of service? I burst into tears, my eyes red as I mumbled over and over. “How can this be, it’s impossible, how can this happen…” Jack held me tightly in his arms, gently patting my back, patiently comforting me. “I’m sorry, I lost control of my temper earlier and yelled at you. Look at you, your forehead is so hot, you must have had a nightmare just now.” Then, Jack helped me lie down on the bed and brought me medicine and water. “Be good, take the cold medicine and get some sleep.” For a moment, I couldn’t tell if I had really had a nightmare or not. But the panic in my heart hadn’t lessened a bit. Because in my impression, my husband wasn’t someone who would apologize to me on his own initiative. Everything felt strange, and my head was hurting badly. I didn’t dare to defy him at the moment, so I could only obediently do as he said. “You sleep first, I’m going to the study to organize some files I need for tomorrow.” Jack said, placing a kiss on my forehead before closing the door and leaving. I quickly spat out the medicine I had been holding under my tongue, wrapped it in a tissue, and threw it in the trash. After waiting a while, I heard no movement outside. I quietly opened the jewelry box and took out my daughter’s smartwatch. It had power and an active phone plan. The number was correct too. The first three digits were the same as mine, and the last eight digits were two sets of repeated four-digit numbers, which was also Lily’s birthday. I knew it by heart, how could I possibly remember it wrong? I quickly unlocked my phone, wanting to try again. However, I discovered there were over twenty missed calls! It was my daughter’s number! I hurriedly called back, my eyes fixed on the smartwatch in the jewelry box. The pink smartwatch remained in sleep mode. The call connected! From the other end came my daughter’s faint voice. Weak, but with a noticeable crying tone. “Mom, why didn’t you answer the phone, Mom save me, save me quickly…” Then came a series of dull thuds. Heavy, muffled impacts, the sound of a blunt object striking flesh. Tears streamed down my face as I couldn’t shake the horrific image of my daughter’s condition after death. Brutally beaten with a heavy object, literally bludgeoned to death. Skull fractured, neck twisted, spine broken, her adorable face a bloody mess… I quickly opened the door and went to find Jack in the study. However, the study light was on, the door open, but no one was there. A quick glance around showed that I was the only one in the entire house. I hadn’t taken the medicine, nor had I fallen asleep, so this definitely wasn’t a dream! This was all real, my daughter from another time was calling for help! What should I do, what on earth should I do! If my death could exchange for my daughter’s life, I would jump out the window without hesitation right now. Jumping from the 27th floor, I would surely die beyond any doubt. I bit my hand hard, not daring to scream out loud. However, the killer on the other end of the phone still discovered my presence. “Heh, this bitch is actually making a phone call!” This was an unfamiliar voice! It was a woman’s voice! A thought struck me, making me suddenly hold my breath, my heart skipping a beat. There were two people who killed my daughter! “I know who you are. If you let my daughter go, I won’t pursue this matter!” Of course, I didn’t know who the killer was. This was just a delaying tactic, hoping my daughter would suffer less torture. However, the call was disconnected. I only heard Lily cry out “Mom” once. I quickly redialed, and the whole situation took a new turn. I didn’t call Jack; at a time like this, he wouldn’t believe me. He would only think I was going crazy because I couldn’t accept our daughter’s death. I called my brother, and in the short ten seconds while waiting, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind. I didn’t tell my brother what had happened, but asked him for detailed information about my daughter’s death. My brother is a detective, and he was in charge of my daughter’s case back then. To avoid unnecessary trouble, I couldn’t tell him about the cross-time phone call from my daughter three years ago asking for help. On the other end of the phone, my brother was silent for a moment. Obviously, he hesitated. But soon, without asking me why, he sent me all the relevant information. After quickly scanning a few key points, I asked my brother how many killers there were. “One… wait, why does the file say two? I remember it was one.” My brother’s confusion excited me a bit. I ended the call, my eyes full of hope. We all remembered that the killer who murdered my daughter was one person. And the initial forensic report indicated that the killer was an adult male about 6 feet tall. But now, the file showed that there were two killers. A man and a woman, working together. This meant that the cross-time phone call between my daughter and me had changed the course of events. So, could I use these cross-time calls to completely change the outcome of this whole incident? Even if the hope was slim, for my daughter’s sake, I had to try!

Excitedly, I called my husband. I wanted to ask him if he still remembered how many people killed our daughter. He would surely be like my brother, remembering it as one person. But the file showed two people. Then, I could use this to prove that the cross-time call between my daughter and me was real. However, after five or six calls, no one answered. As I was hesitating, wondering if I should go to my brother first to discuss, the seventh call was finally answered. “Hello, who is this? Don’t you let people sleep in the middle of the night? Calling twice without an answer and still keep calling, are you brain-damaged or something!” I called my husband, but a woman answered! Judging by her voice, she sounded about thirty. I was stunned, anger enveloping me, but I knew now wasn’t the time to act rashly. Because the woman yelled impatiently again. “Which bitch is calling? So annoying, interrupting people making love.” With that, the call ended. I couldn’t sit still anymore. This woman’s voice was too familiar! Especially that phrase. Bitch! The voice was identical! This was clearly the woman from the call, one of the killers who murdered my daughter! My husband was actually with one of the killers!

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After I died, my body was handled by my brother, James Murphy, a forensic pathologist. “The victim’s head is missing, and the body is severely decomposed, making it impossible to identify.” After completing his work, James called Isabella Murphy, my adopted sister, to celebrate her promotion at the Prestigious Company. At the same time, he sent me a message: [Megan Murphy, today is an important day for Isabella. You better be home on time!] [If you’re late, don’t bother setting foot in the Murphy house ever again!] But, James, do you know? The body you’re handling… it’s me. The sister you loved so much, the one who Isabella killed… Two weeks after my death, some locals found my dismembered body at Forest Edge while foraging. They called the police, and because my remains were found in Manchester, it was my brother, James Murphy, who was responsible for the post-mortem and identification. My soul hadn’t fully dissipated yet, and I watched as James, wearing a mask, inspected the body. Several police officers nearby grimaced. “This is horrific. Who could have done something so brutal to a girl?” “Exactly! Whoever did this deserves to be torn apart!” James frowned slightly but said nothing, ordering the remains to be taken back to the forensic lab. “The victim is female, approximately 23 years old. Initial estimates place the time of death around 16 days ago.” “There are multiple stab wounds on the chest, abdomen, and back, with the fatal wound located in the heart.” “From the pattern of injuries, she was stabbed four times in the chest, three times in the back, and around six times in the heart. After she died, the killer dismembered her body.” “The victim’s organs are missing—her kidneys, liver, and stomach were removed. The head is also missing, making facial recognition impossible.” “Additionally, the body is incomplete, missing the pelvis, left leg, and right hand. The remains are heavily decomposed. We’ll need to conduct a DNA test for further identification.” James handed the autopsy report to the police and removed his mask. “We still need to find the victim’s head and the missing body parts. The killer must have held a deep grudge to treat the victim with such cruelty.” “The head and hands may hold crucial evidence to identify the murderer.” “Got it!” Once the police left, James was about to sit down when his phone rang. I floated over to see that it was Isabella calling. “Brother, are you getting off work soon? Mum wants you home; otherwise, we won’t wait to cut the cake!” Isabella’s sweet, playful voice came through the line, and James smiled, clearly enjoying it. He quickened his pace as he packed up his things. “You little brat, why not wait for me? Tell Mum I’ll be home in twenty minutes!” “Today’s your big day—you think I’d miss celebrating your promotion?” After hanging up, he frowned, scrolled through his phone, and found my message thread. [Megan Murphy, today is Isabella’s most important day. You better be on time!] [Before you get home, pick up a gift and apologize to Isabella for spreading lies!] [Otherwise, don’t bother coming back to the Murphy house!] He sent the message, then glanced at the remains on the autopsy table. My heart raced—had he realized it was me? But a moment later, he just irritably switched off his phone, packed his things, and left the office. I felt a pang in my chest, but no tears fell. James, did you know? You were only inches away from me. If you had looked just a little closer at my body, you’d have seen the birthmark on my wrist—the one you always said would help you find me no matter what. You promised no one could ever take me away, but you broke that promise. And worse, you didn’t know that the sister you cherish, Isabella, is the one who killed me.

When I was six, I was abducted by traffickers. Mum was so devastated that she fell into a deep depression. To ease her pain, Dad went to an orphanage and adopted Isabella. When I was found by the police at fifteen, I thought my parents had been waiting for me. But when I returned home, I found the entire family orbiting around Isabella. The brother who used to spoil me, the father who always made sure I ate, and the mother who used to sing me lullabies—when they saw me, the first thing they said was: “Even though you’ve come back, Isabella will feel hurt. She’ll think we love her less now that you’re here.” Isabella moved into my old room, and Dad said: “Megan, you’ve always been sensible. Since you’re back now, let Isabella have her way—she’s younger than you!” “Megan, Isabella is an orphan. We’re all she has. You’re her sister now, and you have to love her too, okay?” Isabella blew out the candles on my birthday cake, and Mum said: “Megan, Isabella has never had a birthday before. Let her blow out your candles and eat the cake. She deserves it more.” Isabella took my beloved British Folklore Jigsaw Puzzle, and James said: “If she likes it, let her have it. I’ve given you plenty of things, and Isabella’s never seen or played with any of them. I’ll buy you something new later.” … Memories flooded my mind, and even though I was now just a soul, my heart still ached. I had thought that once I came home, my parents and brother would love me even more. But I was wrong. Isabella had replaced me, stealing all the love from my family. But aren’t I their real daughter? As my soul followed James home, I watched Isabella excitedly throw herself into his arms, and he smiled, hugging her back. “You’ve made us so proud. Securing a promotion at a Prestigious Company was no small feat.” Mum beamed with pride, and Dad handed Isabella a knife to cut the cake. “James is home too! Let’s cut the cake together—it’s Isabella’s favorite, Strawberry Sponge Cake!” Isabella grinned as she cut the cake, giving slices to Mum, Dad, and James. They looked like a perfect, happy family. Halfway through the meal, they finally remembered there was someone missing. “James, didn’t you message Megan to come celebrate with us? Why isn’t she here yet?” Mum asked. I looked up, my heart swelling with hope. Maybe Mum still cared about me after all. James’s face darkened immediately. “Don’t worry about her! She had the nerve to spread rumors that Isabella was using drugs. God knows who filled her head with that nonsense!” “Forget about her. Ever since she came back, she’s been acting crazy. If she doesn’t want to come, we can still have a happy birthday for Isabella without her!” Dad’s face turned grim as well, and he reassured Mum. Mum didn’t think much of it and continued eating. I curled up in the corner, bitterly smiling to myself. Of course, as long as Isabella is around, they wouldn’t even think about me. They didn’t notice the flash of guilt on Isabella’s face, though. She had every reason to be guilty, because I wasn’t lying. She really was using drugs. Isabella had been playing the role of the sweet, innocent daughter at home, but in reality, she was a wild delinquent. Since I came back, I could see the hatred in her eyes. She would intentionally provoke me and then cry to make our parents and James take her side. I was driven to the brink of insanity, but Dad just called me crazy. I had developed a habit of staying up late, and about a month ago, I noticed that Isabella would often sneak out when our parents weren’t paying attention. She’d return home reeking of smoke and alcohol, looking completely drained the next morning. But she’d tell Mum and James it was all from working hard, and they’d fall for it, feeling sorry for her to the point of tears. Half a month ago, I went into her room to retrieve a notebook she’d borrowed under the pretense of “work research,” and that’s when I found it—drug paraphernalia. And worse, I uncovered links between her so-called prestigious company and an illegal organ trafficking ring connected to Southeast Asia. I was terrified. I ran to tell Mum and Dad, but they wouldn’t believe me. They thought I was jealous of Isabella’s success. “What are you trying to do, Megan? Spread lies that your sister’s into drugs?” “Megan Murphy, Isabella is an orphan! We’re all she has. Are you so jealous you want to drive her out and make her suffer again?” “Get out! Don’t come back until you know what you’ve done wrong!” They didn’t believe me. Even James turned his back on me. I was devastated, and I stormed out of the house. But as soon as I stepped out, I was grabbed by several large men, who dragged me into an alley where no one would see. I never imagined how much pain a knife could cause when it plunged into your body. I never thought Isabella would actually want me dead, but here I was, surrounded by her company’s thugs. Through blurry eyes, I saw her standing there, smiling down at me—a smile as sinister as a poisonous flower. “Megan, I bet you’re wondering why I’ve always been against you.” “Who wouldn’t want to stay in a rich family, with fancy clothes and loads of money to spend? Why should I leave just because you came back?” “I only wish you’d never been found by the police in the first place!” As I took my final breaths, they stuffed my body into a car trunk, cleaned up the blood, and drove to the countryside. Isabella, blood splattered on her face, finished me off with terrifying precision. Her smile was grotesque, twisted in a way that sent shivers down my spine, even as I lay dying. After disposing of my body, she cleaned herself up and went home, acting as if nothing had happened. And all that time, neither Mum, Dad, nor James even thought to wonder where I was.

After celebrating Isabella’s promotion, James returned to his own place. He had a house near the Manchester Police Department, making it easier to respond to calls quickly. He poured himself a glass of water and sat on the sofa. After a moment, he pulled out his phone, but his hand hesitated. He hadn’t moved the screen for a while. I floated over and saw it was my message thread. I hadn’t responded to any of his texts, not that he’d been replying to me for the past few months. The last few texts were all one-sided, from me to him. James clicked his tongue, scrolling through our messages: [Hey, did you remember to take your stomach medicine? I got more for you—don’t forget to bring it!] [James, I’ve been stuck on a work problem. Could I ask you for advice?] [Today’s my birthday, will you be coming home?] My birthday had been the day Isabella killed me. It took James a moment to realize this as he opened his calendar and saw the red heart marking the date: Megan’s 23rd Birthday. He froze for a moment, then quickly exited the calendar app and called Mum. “Mum, did Megan call the house about half a month ago?” Mum hesitated. “No, she didn’t. Wasn’t that the day she had a fight with Isabella? Why?” James paused, then said, “No reason.” After hanging up, he grew visibly frustrated. He tried calling me, but no one answered. More irritated now, he opened our chat and started sending voice messages: [Megan, have you grown up now? Who taught you to run off and not take responsibility for your actions?] [You’ve got two hours to call me back, or you can forget about calling me brother ever again!] I looked at him in confusion. Hadn’t he just told me I wasn’t allowed home unless I apologized to Isabella? I always loved James, but I was also terrified of him. When I didn’t finish my schoolwork, he’d scold me. When I disobeyed, he’d rush home to discipline me. Over time, a wall had grown between us. Isabella, on the other hand, could joke around with him, bother him whenever she wanted, and he would always be patient and kind with her. His smile never faded when she was around. I felt dizzy, my soul growing lighter, as if I were losing my grip on existence. I was fading, but somehow, I couldn’t disappear completely. That’s when James finally lost his composure. He grabbed his coat and stormed out, heading straight to the police department. I followed him as he went back to the forensic lab, put on gloves, and began working again. But just as he was examining my remains for further evidence, he suddenly froze. His fingers brushed over the birthmark on my wrist—a small heart-shaped mark, something unique. When we were kids, he used to poke that mark and say, “Megan’s a gift from the heavens. They gave her a heart-shaped mark so I’ll always find her, no matter what.” Now, James stared at the birthmark for what felt like an eternity. I thought I must be imagining things. Why would he tremble if he hated me so much? I shook my head, ready to close my eyes and conserve my strength when he pulled out his phone and made a call. “Mum, are you sure Megan didn’t call home after she left?” For the first time in ages, he called me by my nickname instead of my full name. “Well, now that you mention it…” Mum’s voice was hesitant. “She used to call every day. It’s strange that she didn’t this time…” “Mum, do you think Megan didn’t come home because of me? If so, I—” “Don’t be ridiculous!” Dad interrupted. “I haven’t even confronted Megan for spreading those lies about you, Isabella!” “James, stop worrying. She’ll come crawling back. Where else would she go?” Yes, Dad. Where else would I go? You’re all I have, and the Murphy family is all I’ve ever known. But now, you only care about Isabella, the one who murdered me. James hung up the phone, bracing himself against the autopsy table. He shook his head. “It can’t be…” “There are plenty of people with birthmarks. It’s not her…” As he was about to continue, his phone rang again. “James, we found some fabric remnants on the hillside.” “We traced the fabric to a brand store. The staff confirmed it’s an old classic model, with fewer than thirty owners.” “Seventeen of those are men. The remaining thirteen women have no missing persons reports.” “James, I’ve sent you a list.” James opened the message and enlarged the photo. The next second, his face turned pale with disbelief. The last name on the list was Megan Murphy.

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I had once sponsored a poor student who was about to drop out, ensuring she completed university. But when I rejected her advances, she started spreading rumours that I was trying to keep her as my mistress. Suddenly, I found myself in the eye of the storm, bombarded by accusations and insults. The stress and long-term depression left me mentally shattered, and I ended it all by leaping from a window at Kingsbury College. Now, given a second chance, I will never sponsor that ungrateful wretch again. When I opened my eyes again, a tearful girl stood before me. I blinked, focusing—wasn’t that Victoria Bennett? What on earth? Had I not died? A quick glance at my phone confirmed the date. It was true—I had been reborn. This time, I wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes. “Mr. Clarke?” Hearing her tentative voice, I snapped back from my thoughts. “Yes, I’m listening. Go on.” “I won’t be coming to school from tomorrow. Mum says we can’t afford it anymore. Thank you so much for all your help these past few weeks.” Her eyes welled up with tears, a sight that had once moved me deeply. In my previous life, I had been so touched by her situation that, out of a sense of duty as a teacher, I sponsored her tuition fees and living expenses. I went above and beyond, fulfilling almost every request, all in the hope that she could one day live a better life through her own hard work. But she repaid my kindness with betrayal. After I rejected her subtle advances, she maliciously spread rumours that I was trying to “keep” her. I was powerless to defend myself. Not only that, but she even wrote a public post implying that if I didn’t have ulterior motives, why would I have been so generous? Why sponsor her out of all the struggling students? The insinuation was clear—I must have had something shameful in mind. The rumours spread faster than I could have imagined. Before long, people were whispering as soon as I stepped outside, and even online trolls managed to find my family. I was powerless to stop it. No one cared about the truth. They saw what they wanted to see. Depression consumed me until, one day, I was so out of it that I jumped out of a window at Kingsbury College, ending a life that should have been full of promise. The thought of it all sent a chill through my body. There was no way I would let the same thing happen again. “Well, if that’s what you and your parents have decided, then let’s go with it.” She looked shocked, clearly taken aback by my response. Still frozen in place, she stared at me, so I added, “Anything else? If not, you should leave.” Watching her walk away, I let out a long sigh of relief. Finally, that problem was sorted.

The next morning, however, Victoria was back in my 8 AM class. I frowned—wasn’t she supposed to be dropping out? Why was she still here? Though I was puzzled, I couldn’t ask directly. “Mr. Clarke, I’ve decided not to drop out. Henry Parker has offered to help me.” Henry? I remembered him. He’d had a crush on Victoria for ages. He had been a key figure stirring up trouble in my previous life. Victoria made a calculated move, throwing herself into my arms. Before I could push her away, Henry quickly snapped a photo. With both the evidence and witnesses in place, I’d never be able to explain myself. “Alright.” I replied curtly and stood to leave. But Victoria blocked my way. I frowned, annoyed. “What is it?” “Henry can only help with my tuition. But as for my living expenses…” She trailed off. “You’re an adult now. There are plenty of ways to earn money for living expenses. The college has lots of work-study positions. If you need help, I can assist you in applying.” She bit her lip, giving me that same pitiful look. “But those jobs are too hard…” “I’ve given you a solution. If you’re unwilling to accept it, then there’s nothing more I can do.” She might as well have stuck a sign on her forehead that read “Sponsor Me.” “If there’s nothing else, let’s keep some distance between us. It’s important for students and teachers to maintain boundaries.” Seeing that I remained cold and didn’t follow her lead, she reluctantly left. But as I watched her leave, I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the end of it.

James Rourke, the head boy, messaged me later that day. Victoria hadn’t shown up for the morning class and wasn’t in her student accommodation either. No one could reach her. My mind buzzed—what was she up to now? Losing contact with a student is enough to make any tutor panic, especially one with such malicious intentions. As I racked my brain, a place suddenly came to mind. I quickly found Victoria’s family address from the student records and drove straight there. But when I arrived, the house was empty. While I pondered where she might have gone, Simon Collins rang me. “Mr. Clarke, you’d better come back. Mrs. Bennett is causing a scene in the headmaster’s office.” Without a moment’s hesitation, I rushed back. As I was about to leave, an older lady stopped me. “You’re here to buy the Bennetts’ house, aren’t you? They told me to keep an eye on things if anyone came by. They’ll be back soon.” I stared at her, confused. “I think you’ve got the wrong person. I’m not here to buy a house.” Sensing my confusion must have sparked her gossip instinct, she continued eagerly. “Lucky for the Bennetts, though! That old wreck of a house, and someone actually wants to buy it to turn it into some sort of live-streaming base? I don’t get it, but they’re getting a tidy sum. They’ll be moving into a big house in the city soon.” So, Victoria’s family wasn’t as hard-up as they made out? After a quick goodbye, I headed back to Kingsbury College. Just as I arrived, I saw Mrs. Bennett leaving the headmaster’s office, a smug smile on her face. Instead of confronting her, I ducked into a nearby stairwell to eavesdrop. “You see, if I didn’t kick up a fuss, the college wouldn’t take it seriously. Didn’t you say your tutor was kind-hearted and would help you out because you couldn’t afford to stay?” She scoffed. “He’s not as great as you thought, is he? In the end, I had to step in. Once we sell the old house, we’ll be moving into the city. Be careful not to let anything slip. You’ve got four years at university without me having to pay a penny for your tuition or living expenses. We’ll save as much as we can.” “Alright.” So, they’d been planning this from the start.

As soon as Mrs. Bennett left, the headmaster summoned me to his office. “Mr. Clarke, what’s going on? How did this escalate to a student’s parent causing a scene at the college? We’re about to select teachers for merit awards, and if this isn’t sorted, you can forget about it.” The headmaster had always thought highly of me, and I knew his advice came from a place of concern. “I understand, headmaster. I’ll handle it.” He sighed, “It’s clearly a deliberate attempt to stir things up. The college has already promised to help them as much as possible, but it’s up to you to navigate this.” After nodding, I left the office and immediately called Victoria. “Meet me in Lecture Hall 1201.” I’d chosen that room because it was one of the few with functioning CCTV. When Victoria arrived, I could barely contain my frustration, though I kept a calm face. “You know, you can apply for student loans. If you’re unsure how, I can help you find someone to guide you.” Victoria hesitated. “But loans have to be repaid…” My tone sharpened. “And? Are you expecting a free ride?” “No, sir, but the loan is over £30,000. That’s a lot of pressure. What if I can’t pay it back?” As she spoke, the tears came again. It seemed they had become her signature move. Turning away to compose myself, I spotted Henry lurking in the corner, trying to stay out of sight. Ah, so we’re going to re-enact the past, are we? Fine. Let’s see them reap what they’ve sown. “Mr. Clarke… would you consider sponsoring me? I promise I’ll repay you once I start earning money. I’ll never forget how kind you’ve been to me.” I thought to myself, Who wants you to remember this for the rest of your life? Seeing that I remained silent, she seemed to believe she had a chance, so she pressed on. “If I drop out, I’ll have to return home and get married. I’m still so young—I don’t want to waste my life like that, Mr. Clarke.” I took a deep breath and replied as calmly as I could, “There are plenty of ways you can earn money to stay in school, but you’d rather sit back and wait for someone to hand you everything. I’ve already promised to help you with the student loan and work-study options.” Victoria’s expression shifted, growing more frustrated as she realised I wasn’t giving in. Suddenly, she pulled out a small knife and, before I could react, slashed at her own arm. It happened so fast that I barely had time to stop her. I rushed forward, grabbing her wrist to prevent further harm. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Henry raising his phone, snapping photos. I didn’t call him out. Instead, I hurriedly took Victoria to the college infirmary. Luckily, it was just a surface wound, nothing serious. Once we were alone, she leaned in and whispered, “I’ve made it obvious what I need, haven’t I? Are you really not going to sponsor me?” “No,” I said firmly. My voice left no room for argument. “Fine,” she muttered, a strange smile playing on her lips.

By the third day, Kingsbury College’s website was ablaze. An anonymous post had shot to the top of the student forum, trending faster than anything I’d seen before. The headline read: “Mr. Clarke from Business English 2 tried to use financial sponsorship to manipulate a female student into an inappropriate relationship. When the student resisted, he physically restrained her, leading her to self-harm in desperation. The college must investigate this immediately and ensure a fair resolution.” Attached to the post was a carefully angled photo. I had to hand it to Henry—he’d captured the perfect moment. The photo made it look as though I had forcibly grabbed Victoria, with no sign of the knife or the wound. If he had this much talent, he was truly wasted at Kingsbury. There was no need to check; I already knew it was Henry behind this. When I left my accommodation later that day, a crowd of students had already gathered. “Sir! Is it true? The post says you assaulted her! You always seemed so proper—how could you do something like this?” “You’re supposed to set an example for us! How could you act like this?” Some of my students, however, rushed to defend me. “Mr. Clarke isn’t like that! You don’t even know the full story—why are you jumping to conclusions?” “Exactly! You can’t just assume someone’s guilty before you’ve even heard their side!” The argument escalated, with both sides refusing to back down. At one point, it looked like a full-blown fight was about to break out. Security arrived just in time to break things up, but the damage was already done. The headmaster wasted no time in calling me to his office. As soon as I walked in, he was on the attack. “Mr. Clarke! I thought I told you to handle this discreetly. Now look what’s happened! It’s no longer about the merit awards—we’re talking about the reputation of Kingsbury College. Do you have any idea the kind of damage this could cause?” “I understand, sir,” I said, “But I assure you, I’m being framed.” “Whether I believe you or not doesn’t matter! Do you think the public will? What you need to do now is gather hard evidence to clear your name.” With a promise to the headmaster, I left his office determined to turn the tables. Henry had used the college’s Wi-Fi to post that message on the forum, and it wasn’t long before I had a technician trace the post back to his phone. With the evidence in hand, I confronted him in front of the class. “You took the photo, didn’t you? If you captured the moment so well, you must have seen the entire incident. So, why don’t you tell everyone what really happened?” Henry stiffened, clearly caught off guard by the sudden confrontation. His bravado faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. “Of course I saw everything. That’s why I posted the truth—I couldn’t stand seeing you act like a hypocrite.” “You’d better be sure of your words,” I warned, “because there are consequences for spreading lies.” Seeing I wasn’t backing down, Henry hesitated, but before he could respond, Victoria stepped in. “Mr. Clarke, there’s no need to push Henry. He was just standing up for what’s right. I can forgive him if you stop intimidating him.”

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My foster brother suffered a brain injury, and I was the only one who could wake him up. But he died during the treatment. Afterward, my parents took me to court, screaming that I should pay for his life with mine. I calmly sat in the defendant’s seat. I had been waiting for this day for a long time. I was going to personally send them to hell. I’m the most capable brain repair specialist in the country. I’ve successfully revived coma patients, creating medical miracles, and even stood on the world’s most prestigious stages. Now, I’ve become the disgrace of the medical field, scorned by everyone online. Countless netizens are calling for me to be kicked out of the profession. And it’s all thanks to my biological parents. A month ago, my foster brother, James Miller, was in a car accident that caused a brain injury, putting him into a coma. Every doctor was at a loss. My estranged parents found me, using every method they could to force me to save him. But they never expected James to die during the treatment. In their grief, I became their target for revenge. They accused me of being a fraud, a killer. Not only did they cry out on every platform about how ungrateful, rebellious, and defiant I was, but they also took me to court, demanding I pay with my life. Today is the day of the trial. The moment I appeared, I was bombarded by microphones. “Dr. Harris, your parents claim that after you became successful, you never gave them a dime, and you even blocked their contact. Is that true?” “You’re known as the miracle doctor who can revive coma patients. Why did your foster brother die during treatment? Is there something you’re not telling us?” The questions from the reporters were getting more intense by the minute. My bodyguard and assistant, Megan King, was pale as snow. I held her cold hand, my gaze cutting through the crowd to meet the hateful eyes of my parents in the distance. I suddenly smiled. “Everything will be decided in court. I believe the wicked will go to hell!”

The trial began. I sat in the defendant’s seat, bored, listening to my parents on the plaintiff’s side lay out my supposed sins. Rebellious since childhood, always hanging out with a street gang, refusing to change. After becoming successful, I never cared for my parents and even publicly claimed to be an orphan. During the treatment of my foster brother, I abandoned the procedure before it was completed, causing his mind to become unstable, which led to his death. By the end, they were in such agony that my biological mother looked like she wanted to leap across the room and beat me. “Order! Lily Harris, do you admit to the charges brought against you by the plaintiffs?” the judge said, tapping the gavel. “What they said is true, but I don’t think I’m guilty,” I said, nodding calmly. The courtroom erupted. On every live stream, the screens were filled with angry comments. “She’s so arrogant. Just throw her in jail already!” “She made her money and thinks she’s above her parents. Heartless!” “Just sentence her now!” Amid the barrage of curses, I raised my hand and pointed to my head. “But every story has a reason. Why don’t we let the Cerebral Interface System access my memories? Let everyone see just how ‘horrible’ I really am.” “No!” Before the judge could respond, my parents jumped in, objecting to the use of my memories, saying it would be biased. “Oh? Well then, let’s use the memories of the deceased, my foster brother—James Miller, instead,” I said pleasantly, offering them a solution they couldn’t refuse. Seeing them look relieved, I smiled even more mockingly. It’s always more painful to be betrayed by the ones you care about most.

The Cerebral Interface began playing James Miller’s memories. It was winter, and seven-year-old James arrived at our house. I was six. I was sitting on a little stool, scrubbing thick sweaters by hand, my fingers red and swollen like carrots. James looked shocked and asked my parents tearfully, “Did you adopt me to make me work?” “Of course not!” My mother’s voice was the softest I had ever heard, a tone she had never used with me. “You’re a boy. You don’t have to do this kind of girly work. Just grow up well, that’s all.” My dad pulled a piece of butterscotch candy from his pocket and popped it into James’ mouth. “Your clothes and shoes, Lily can wash them. And if she doesn’t listen, just hit her like this.” He demonstrated by kicking me. I tried to twist my body to avoid it, but I still ended up falling into the wash basin. Water splashed onto my dad’s shoes, and of course, that led to another beating. James watched, eyes wide with excitement, even finding it amusing. He pressed a finger against the large lump on my head, curious. “How come you don’t cry when you get hit? Are you mute?” The sudden pain made me forget to be cautious, and I shoved his hand away. Naturally, I was punished again. “He’s your brother. It’s his first day here, and you’re already hitting him. What’s next, killing the whole family?” my dad shouted. “Will you ever dare do it again?” The result of this little episode was that I wasn’t allowed to eat dinner. That night, after everyone had gone to bed, I snuck into the bathroom, still wearing my damp clothes, and drank from the tap as if my life depended on it. I’d known from a young age that crying or complaining would only make them angrier. Talking back would get me hit harder. Because I wasn’t the child they wanted. I was just a girl. The old lady next door once told me that for girls like me, education was the only way out. When I turned six, they would have to send me to school. Otherwise, the authorities would come knocking, and they were terrified of government people showing up. “Just six more months,” I whispered to myself, hugging my arms for warmth.

The Cerebral Interface switched to when I was thirteen. I was in middle school. James came home with a basketball in his arms. When he saw I hadn’t finished cooking yet, he hurled the ball at me. He swung his fist and yelled, “Trying to starve me? If you don’t hurry up, I’ll beat you to death!” I ignored him. The ball hit me hard, making me stumble, but I straightened up and kept cooking. When I finished, I rushed to the ping-pong table in the alleyway. There were a few teenagers there, all dressed like punks, waiting for me. “What took you so long? Start writing!” A few backpacks were thrown at me. I quickly pulled out their homework and got to work. Suddenly, I felt a heavy blow to the back of my head. My forehead slammed into the table. “You think we sent you to school so you could hang out with these lowlifes? You’re a disgrace!” my mother snarled, pointing a sharp finger at my face. My dad kicked me to the ground without missing a beat. I tried to explain that I was only earning money for lunch. They didn’t care. They were just venting their anger after losing at cards. “You’re bold now, huh? Not staying home to work, running around outside. You’ll end up in jail, just like these thugs!” I was used to their abuse by then, but I didn’t want them to insult my only friends. Wiping away my tears, I raised my voice for the first time, “They’re not bad people! They’re my friends. Without them, I’d have starved by now!” They were troublemakers, sure, but they had good hearts. They knew I had no money, so they’d let me write their homework in exchange for a meal. Though, in truth, they never actually turned in the homework. “Starve? It’d be better if you did! You’d save us some food!” “You still talking back? I’ll kill you today!” After another round of punches and kicks, I was dragged back home like a rag doll. “Mute girl, aren’t you supposed to be good at school? Let’s see if you’ll still take tomorrow’s test now.” James stomped on my already injured hand with his shiny new sneakers, eyes full of malice. He was jealous of my good grades. It was his way of warning me.

The Cerebral Interface paused, showing the contrast between the pristine white sneakers and my scarred hand. The reporters in the gallery were now somber, their aggressive attitudes gone, replaced with looks of condemnation directed at my parents. The live stream went silent for a while before comments started flooding in. “Poor Lily.” “These parents aren’t just sexist—they’re insane! He’s just a foster child, but their daughter is their own flesh and blood!” My parents saw the comments but didn’t care. In fact, they shamelessly retorted, “A daughter is only raised for someone else’s family. In the end, you rely on a son!” “Everyone’s kids get hit sometimes. That doesn’t excuse her for abandoning her parents and pretending she’s an orphan!” The judge banged the gavel, calling for order in the court. Once the room quieted down, the Cerebral Interface continued. This time, it showed James at sixteen. I had just been accepted into a prestigious high school as the top student in the county. The school leadership came to our house to congratulate me and brought along some school supplies. Many others came by to celebrate. But just as the atmosphere was at its peak, James dragged me, with my eyes swollen from crying, in front of the school officials. “Do you accept blind students at your school?” he sneered. Everyone went silent. Someone asked, “What happened? Can she still be treated?” I wanted to cry for help, but my mother clamped her hand over my mouth. My father, looking sorrowful, sighed and explained to everyone, “What else could have happened? I told her not to hang out with those gang kids, but she wouldn’t listen. Now look at her! She came back like this. We can’t control her anymore.” “Even if her eyes get better, how can we send her to school? She’s unruly, and her grades were never that good. Who knows how she got those top marks this time? It’s so embarrassing!” After their little performance, the people who had come to congratulate me started leaving, shaking their heads in disappointment. Soon, it was just the four of us in the yard. “Smack!” My mother slapped me across the face. “Were you about to tell them it was your brother who hurt you? I should have killed you when you were born!” James stood by, laughing cruelly. “What’s the point of seeing a doctor? It’s better if you’re blind, then you’ll stop trying to run away.” As their footsteps faded, I curled up in the dark corner, my world plunged into darkness.

The Cerebral Interface rewound James’ memories, showing the reason I had gone blind. After middle school, I knew my biggest challenge was how to pay for high school. Through some friends, I started selling jasmine flower bracelets at a local flea market. I didn’t make much, but I calculated that if I worked all summer, I’d have enough for my tuition. One evening, I had just set up my stall when James showed up with a group of his friends. They stomped on the flowers I had carefully gathered, destroying them. Then, they took the money I had worked so hard to earn. I tried to reason with him, but he grabbed my wrist and slammed me against the wall. He looked at me with disdain. “This house belongs to me. Who do you think you are?” He started to walk away. I swallowed my pride and grabbed his leg, kneeling at his feet. “Please, James, that money is for my school fees. Without it, I can’t go to school!” He sneered. “A girl like you doesn’t need an education. All you need to do is learn how to work and have kids. Who cares about school?” Then he kicked me aside. I followed him into an alley, pleading for him to return at least part of the money. He grew irritated, picked up a handful of lime powder, and threw it into my eyes. I screamed in agony, writhing on the ground. Through the pain, I heard my parents calling out to James. They had bought some bread and were inviting him home to eat. I forced myself to my feet, stumbling toward their voices. “Mom! Dad! James threw lime into my eyes. Please help me!” My mother’s response was cold. “Stop making things up. Why would James do that to you?” My father added, “Who knows what kind of trouble you’ve been getting into again? A girl like you, always running around—you’re an embarrassment to the family!” Their voices faded, replaced by the sounds of them coaxing James to come home for dinner. I was left alone in the dark alley.

Some friends from the gang found me the next day. By then, I had been lying in the backyard for a full day and night, feverish and swollen. They panicked at the sight of me. “You’re burning up! Your eyes are swollen shut. We need to get you to a hospital!” But just as they lifted me, my parents and James appeared. “Put her down. Where do you think you’re taking her?” my father demanded. “To the hospital, of course! If we leave her here, she’ll die!” my friends shouted back. They knew exactly what kind of life I had at home. They were just kids themselves, unable to help me escape before. But now, with my life on the line, they couldn’t stand by. Determined, they started to carry me out. “If you take her, you’ll have to keep her. Don’t bother bringing her back!” my father yelled. My friends hesitated, realizing the weight of the responsibility. They couldn’t afford to take care of me. James grabbed me by the hair and dragged me back, dumping a bowl of dirty dog water over my face. “Know your place, mute girl. You’ll never escape!” The filthy water splashed into my burning eyes, jolting me back into consciousness. With all the strength I had left, I pushed James to the ground. Then, kneeling on the ground, I turned to my parents and knocked my head against the dirt three times. I groped my way out of the house. I had finally seen the truth. If I stayed here, I would die. If I left, there was at least a chance I might live. “James, are you hurt? Does anything feel broken? Do you need to go to the hospital?” my mother fussed over him. “We’ll break her legs and hand her over to you for good, don’t worry,” my father added. They didn’t care that I had left. Because, in their minds, I would never truly escape.

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I’ve decided to let go of Daniel. It didn’t start with anything major, really. It was just one of those research group meetings when Bella walked in with a cup of soya milk and a bacon roll. Danny, always indulging her, covered for her: “Bella’s young, she’s a bit of a foodie. Let’s be kind.” Everyone chuckled and joked around, and their eyes, knowingly or not, drifted towards me. Only my friend Rachel stood up for me: “Danny, that’s not fair! Ellie had a stomach bug last time and wanted to eat something, and you wouldn’t let her!” The room fell silent for a moment. Danny’s face darkened. “Ellie, are you acting out again? If you want to throw a tantrum, this isn’t the place for it. No one here is going to coddle you.” “Exactly. Always attention-seeking,” someone muttered under their breath. I sighed inwardly. It all just felt so pointless. I took off my name badge and looked up at Danny. “I’m quitting the research group.” The words hung in the air as the older students tried to calm me down. After all, getting into this research group meant a chance at a postgraduate scholarship. “It’s fine. My mind’s made up. I’ll go and explain everything to the professor later.” “Are you throwing a fit again? Do you really need everyone to revolve around you? It’s just letting Bella have her breakfast, do you have to be so petty about it?” Danny’s tone was cold and laced with impatience. I looked him square in the eye and explained, “I’m not throwing a fit. It’s just…” I pointed at a few people, “Her, him, her—they’re only here because of Bella’s connections. They do the least work, but they gossip the most. I’m tired of being in this kind of environment.” Honestly, I was exhausted, playing along and going through the motions with them. The people I pointed out turned pale, their heads down, avoiding my gaze. The others stayed silent, but Bella started to cry. “Ellie, what have I ever done to you? Why embarrass me in front of everyone?” she sobbed. “They’re just my classmates. If they don’t get a few extra credits from joining the research group, they’ll fail. I was just trying to help them, and Danny agreed to it too.” I nodded, “Sure, Bella. But the research group isn’t yours alone. You help them, and we’re all supposed to bear the consequences. Is that your idea of fairness?” “That’s enough! Ellie, you’re acting like you’ve gone mad. If I’m willing to take responsibility for her, what does it matter to you?” That hit like a slap across my face. I was flushed with anger and confusion. Was this really the same Danny who used to protect me? But his next words buried me completely. “Ellie’s got some mental health issues, Bella. Don’t take her words too seriously. She has her moments.” Danny took out a tissue and gently wiped Bella’s tears. “Really? She doesn’t seem like it,” Bella glanced at me, curiosity and disdain in her eyes. “Oh, it’s true. I even have her diagnosis,” Danny added, casually. My heart, which had been raised up so high, was now slammed down, shattering into pieces. I suddenly remembered how, when I was seven, Danny had chased away some bullies and wiped my tears in exactly the same way, promising he’d always be on my side. Now, he was cruelly ripping open my wounds, just to comfort another girl.

Leaving the group wasn’t easy. The professor said he was too busy at the moment and asked if I could stay a bit longer. I reluctantly agreed. I tried to go in only on days when Danny wasn’t there. But part of me still wondered, would he notice and come find me? After all, years of habits aren’t easily broken. One evening, after finishing an experiment, I was walking back to the dorms when a tall figure appeared in the middle of the path. I turned to leave, but Danny caught up with me. “Ellie!” He grabbed my hand, “Why have you been avoiding me?” I tried to pull away, but he firmly placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face him. His gaze softened, “Are you angry with me?” I turned my head, refusing to look at him. He chuckled, “Ellie, are you jealous? I didn’t mean to side with Bella. It’s just… her dad’s our biggest investor. I can’t afford to upset her. How about this? From now on, I’ll let you have breakfast in the meeting room too?” I looked at him seriously for the first time, “Danny, this isn’t about breakfast.” He knew perfectly well that I’d been struggling with some personal issues. There were nights when I couldn’t sleep at all, leaving me mentally exhausted, but I wasn’t the “mental case” he made me out to be. Did he ever stop to think about that? His eyes flickered. He knew exactly what I was getting at. Then, he pulled something out of his pocket and slipped it onto my wrist. Under the streetlight, I saw what it was—a finely polished silver bracelet. “Ellie, you’ve always wanted one of those silver bracelets that girls get from their parents. I saved up to get you one, but silver seemed too cheap for you. So, I bought a gold one and had it coated in silver.” People are often bound by the things they desired but could never have in their youth. At that moment, when I saw the bracelet, my heart softened. From childhood to now, Danny had always been by my side. He was like a friend, a brother, and, admittedly, I’d started to have feelings for him that I probably shouldn’t have. Besides him, there was no one else I could rely on. Maybe… maybe I should forgive him. Later, back in my dorm, I thought it over for a long time before finally sending him a cheeky emoji. He responded in kind, sending one back, along with a swimming ticket, asking if I wanted to go swimming tomorrow. But my smile faded. Had he forgotten? Tomorrow was the first day of my period.

The next day, I decided to go anyway. I put on light makeup, but I didn’t bring a swimsuit. I figured Danny was just busy and hadn’t paid attention to my schedule. I’d just sit by the pool and watch him swim. When I arrived, there was already a group of people at the entrance, both boys and girls, and Bella was right there among them. As I walked up, I noticed a few of the boys exchange glances, smirking. “Bit boring, isn’t it? Figures the ones without a decent figure wouldn’t want to show it off. She’s not all that after all. I much prefer girls who aren’t shy,” one of them said with a sneer. I frowned. Bella giggled behind her hand, “Can’t help it, can you? Some people are just… small-minded. Makes you wonder why Danny even invited her.” Danny’s face was dark, probably a bit embarrassed, “I told you to bring your swimsuit. How are you going to swim in a T-shirt and trousers?” “I’m on my period.” So, he had forgotten. Danny’s brows furrowed, clearly annoyed. “Of course it’s today. But swimming during your period isn’t a big deal, is it?” I stayed silent. Realising his words were off, he tugged at my sleeve apologetically. “Come on, Ellie. I’m not a girl. Cut me some slack for not knowing.” Then, he suddenly turned to the group and said, “You know, last time Ellie embarrassed Bella in front of everyone. That’s why I invited her today, so she could apologise properly.” I stared at him in disbelief. “Why should I apologise?” Why should I apologise to Bella? She was the one bringing her friends into the research group for free credit. How was this suddenly my fault? Danny pulled me aside, whispering urgently, “Ellie, think about the bigger picture. I need this research to secure a job with a top firm. You don’t want us to struggle for the rest of our lives, do you?” I caught the real meaning in his words. “Us? Struggling?” “Yeah.” He turned back to face me, his tone indifferent, with just a hint of disdain. “Ellie, I know you’ve always liked me. And I like you too. If you apologise to Bella, I’ll agree to be with you. If not, I’ll just start dating her instead.” He suddenly sounded so… lofty, as if he were offering me a priceless gift. “After all, we’ve known each other for over a decade. I can’t just throw that away. Apologise, stay in the research group, help me, and we’ll be together.” I took a step back, looking Danny up and down, and shook my head slowly. “You’re so full of yourself.” “What?” He didn’t hear me properly. Habits are a dangerous thing. Danny and I had practically grown up together, from primary school to secondary school, and now university. After so much time, I’d gotten used to him. I relied on him. I even thought I loved him. Danny was a year older than me. I’d been fostered by my uncle since I was a child, and Danny was the boy next door. Back then, kids showed their feelings so plainly. If my cousin disliked me, the entire group of children in the area would ostracise me. But Danny was different. He always brought an extra snack for me, included me in games, made sure I wasn’t left out. Honestly, the warmth of my childhood came entirely from Danny. He knew how to keep me under his thumb. I had always listened to him, always done as he asked. But ever since that breakfast incident, I felt… tired. Tired of him. Tired of everything. In the middle of our standoff, the swimming instructor came over. “If you’re going to swim, make sure you’re careful.” The instructor handed me a chair and said kindly, “You’ve been holding your stomach. Must be your period, right? My daughter looks exactly like you during hers. So pale, poor thing.” I instinctively touched my face. Was it that obvious? If a stranger could see it, surely Danny knew too?

“Think about it, alright?” Danny said, before heading back to Bella and the others. “Oh, and remember to book the restaurant for dinner later,” he added as if it were nothing. I didn’t move. I watched as Danny pulled out a bag of drinks and handed Bella the only one in unique packaging. Everyone else got the same kind. Bella blushed, and the group burst into playful teasing. Suddenly, I was reminded of playing house when we were children. Danny had done the same thing back then. He bought a load of lollipops and gave the prettiest girl the only special one, asking her to play his wife. The rest of us got the regular ones. He won our loyalty and achieved what he wanted. All the kids ate theirs straight away, but I held onto mine, tucking it away because it was the first treat I’d ever been given just for me. Later, when Danny found out, he bought me a few more, but never that special one. I couldn’t help but laugh softly. I always knew he was using the simplest tactics to manipulate people, and I was his most successful target, quietly playing along. I was never the special one. I was just another fish caught in his wide net. On the way to dinner, as usual, I carried everyone’s bags and lagged behind. By the time I reached the private room, Danny had already texted me, saying he’d ordered food. I was still halfway there. It’s funny, I’ve always trailed behind Danny, so used to him walking ahead while I followed. When I reached the door, I overheard Bella talking. “Danny, how did you manage to get Ellie to apologise to me? She’s famous for being an ice queen, never talks to anyone.” “Don’t worry,” Danny replied, “you saw how I made her carry all our bags. Apologising is nothing compared to that.” “She’s been like a dog following me around since we were kids. Give her a scrap of attention, and she’ll follow you anywhere. Besides me, she’s got no one else to rely on.” A few of the boys chuckled, chiming in to flatter him and tear me down. I paused, hand raised to knock, then slowly let it fall back down. Instead, I quietly set the bags by the door and stood there, listening. “Danny, you’re the man! What did you say to Ellie to make her so loyal?” “Yeah, Danny, you’re so lucky. Ellie on one side, Bella on the other.” I heard Danny laugh lightly. “It’s nothing, really. She’s just starved for affection. Give her a little kindness, and she’ll go to the ends of the earth for you. But don’t get me wrong, I’m only into Bella. Ellie’s… well, she’s just a bit pathetic, to be honest.” The room filled with laughter. Strangely, I didn’t feel anything. No anger, no sadness. Just a vague sense of boredom. Like sitting in a room, waiting for it to collapse into dust. And slowly, I began to see the light again. I left the bags at the door and went to grab a bowl of noodles. I bought myself some cakes too and felt warm all over as I ate. Later, I found someone from the university’s delivery service and had them return all of Danny’s things to him, including that bracelet. It wasn’t real silver, and definitely not gold. The moment I put it on, I could tell. I’m not stupid. I’d just been playing along, deceiving myself.

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The day after finalizing my divorce, my ex-wife appeared on a reality dating show with the man she’d been cheating with. They were all lovey-dovey, and the whole internet was buzzing about them being a “first love” couple. Could I let that slide? No way! I found a beautiful woman and went straight onto the show to expose them! First love? I’ll turn it into a toxic relationship! On my birthday, I saw a trending topic on Twitter about my wife Sienna and the popular young actor Finn. In the video, they were both wearing masks and hats, but their eyes were full of deep emotion as they looked at each other. Their hands were full of shopping bags as they entered a hotel together. In the room with unclosed curtains, the two of them stood by the window, embracing and kissing. How romantic. That night, Sienna didn’t come home. I lay in bed, replaying the five years of my relationship with Sienna from start to finish. I couldn’t sleep all night. Early the next morning, the trending topic had been completely deleted, as if it had never existed. I called Sienna and asked her to come back home for a bit. Sienna sounded impatient: “Can’t you just tell Mrs. Chen whatever it is?” Mrs. Chen was the housekeeper Sienna had hired specifically to take care of my health. She said that with Mrs. Chen around, she could also learn how to care for me. But at some point, Sienna started saying that with Mrs. Chen here, I shouldn’t bother her. I tried to stay calm as I said, “I saw the trending topic.” There was silence on the other end for about ten seconds. I took the opportunity to continue, “Come home for a bit. Let’s discuss the divorce.” Not giving Sienna a chance to speak, I hung up the phone. I knew she would come back. While waiting for Sienna to return, I contacted a lawyer I often worked with and immediately drafted a divorce agreement. At the same time, I also started packing up my things in the room. I had lived in this home for three years and had quite a few possessions. I decided to take the clothes, cosmetics, and accessories I had bought myself, leaving behind everything Sienna had bought for me. Mrs. Chen saw me coming downstairs with my suitcase and was startled. Just as she was about to say something, the door lock beeped. Sienna was back. She was still wearing the dress she had left in yesterday, looking a bit wrinkled. Seeing me like this, Sienna asked impatiently, “Callum, what are you up to now?” After a sleepless night, I was too tired to waste any more words with her. “I’ve already had the lawyer draft a divorce agreement. It will be sent to you directly.” Mrs. Chen still wanted to keep me from leaving, but Sienna shouted, “Let him go! See where he can go without me!”

Hearing these words, I felt a sharp pain in my heart, and tears unconsciously welled up. Five years ago, I had already won the Best Actor award in the entertainment industry. Later, my father passed away due to illness, and my mother followed two years after. My mental state had been declining, and there were even rumors online that I was using drugs. I had considered suicide at one point, but Sienna found me. Actually, we had only met briefly at an event. She said, “I’ve been your fan for a long time. I wanted to get your autograph at that event back then.” She said, “I’m actually an orphan too, with just an empty house.” She said, “If possible, Callum, we could turn our two homes into one. That way, neither of us would be lonely.” I didn’t agree, and I didn’t dare to agree. How could I trust someone after just one brief encounter? But she kept accompanying me. Whenever I was feeling down, she would call me out to ride bicycles, going round and round on the seaside bridge. In summer, after I finished filming, she would hand me an ice cream cone. In winter, after I attended an event, she would pull a still-warm roasted sweet potato from her pocket. Sienna’s eyes were bright, her ears red, shy yet sincere. She said, “Callum, I will give you a home and always protect you.” But now she was saying, “See where he can go without me?” I gripped the doorknob tightly, waiting for the surge of emotions to subside before asking, “How did you become the CEO back then?” Sienna’s voice dropped, “What do you mean?” I didn’t bother to respond and left the villa.

Three years ago, after dating Sienna for a year, she founded Bright Jade Entertainment Company. To support her, I used the connections and resources I had accumulated in the industry for years to turn this company into a new milestone in the field. Sienna transformed overnight, becoming a CEO that everyone had to respect. She wanted me to sign with their company, but my old agency had been good to me, so I refused. Sienna didn’t insist, and remembering my help, she gave me half of the shares. She said, “You just need to stay at home and count the money.” At that time, I did want to focus on managing our little family, unable to divide my attention. So I found an opportunity to announce my retirement from the entertainment industry. At that time, the comments section was full of reluctant farewells. But now, she was flirting with employees in the company and kissing in hotels. I randomly found a hotel and checked into a suite. Forcing myself not to think about the past, I took out my phone and found my agent Zack, who was now a top agent in the industry. When I first entered the industry, Zack was with me. We were both newcomers, fumbling and struggling in our respective fields to achieve our current success. Not just colleagues, we were also friends who encouraged each other. He was my best man. But after marriage, I devoted myself entirely to family life and hadn’t been in contact with him for a year. As I was hesitating whether to send a message, Zack’s message popped up. Zack: [What’s the deal with last night’s trending topic? Did Sienna cheat?] Sienna and I had kept our relationship and marriage very low-key. I wanted to go public, but she was busy with company business and just said, “As long as we know we’re happy, why bring it to the public and let them judge? ” It made sense, and I had seen many celebrities become paranoid after involving too much of their private lives in public. So only a few old friends and the two senior shareholders of the company knew about our relationship and marriage. The trending topic disappeared quickly, and Zack only knew because he had many channels in the industry. I didn’t deny it and replied with an “Mm.” Zack called immediately, and I answered right away. The voice on the other end was filled with anger. “Damn it, Sienna seemed so proper before, how could she do something like this.” Yes, at the wedding, Sienna’s eyes were red, filled with sincere and shy emotions, just like at the beginning. I took a deep breath and said softly, “It’s been so many years, everything has changed.” Zack was silent for a long time. He said, “I’m always here for you, buddy.” We talked until midnight before falling asleep. When I woke up at noon the next day, Zack had sent me over a dozen messages. The last message said: [Sienna and Finn have decided to participate in a dating reality show!] I felt my breath catch, unable to believe how quickly Sienna was moving. We hadn’t even gotten our divorce certificate yet! Moreover, due to various property disputes, our divorce was bound to be complicated. How could she be so impatient? I slapped my face twice, forcing myself to calm down, and sent a message to Zack: [I want to participate in this show too.] I wanted to see what gave Sienna the right to be so brazen. I also called the assistant I had personally trained and told him to keep an eye on the company’s movements.

Participating in the show was easy. Even without Zack’s connections, the production team wanted to sign the contract as soon as they heard my name. The difficult part was where I would find a woman to participate in the dating show with me. Zack invited me to a coffee shop he owned and said, “My cousin just came back from studying abroad. She’s incredibly beautiful, definitely someone to be proud of.” He showed me a photo, and even though I had seen all kinds of beautiful women in the industry, this woman still caught my eye. “This photo was taken at her high school graduation ceremony four years ago. Quite a few people wanted to take photos with my sister then,” Zack said proudly. I silently calculated in my mind – 22 years old, five years younger than me. “Is your cousin willing?” I asked. Zack gave a sly smile, but the sound of the door chime interrupted our conversation. I instinctively turned my head and saw a woman walking towards us. I recognized her as the girl from the photo at a glance. She nodded slightly when she saw me. Gone was the innocence and shyness from the photo, replaced by a more mature and composed demeanor. Zack introduced, “My cousin, Phoebe. When I found out she was back in the country, I contacted her immediately. She agreed, and that’s why I arranged this meeting.” “You really want to do this?” I was a bit surprised, worried that she might not understand the entertainment industry here after being abroad. I was about to explain the situation in detail. Phoebe smiled and said, “I’m willing. Mr. Callum is quite famous abroad too. I often saw your work in the film appreciation classes I took. My cousin has explained the specific situation to me, and I’m happy to help you.” Hearing this, I knew the agreement was reached.

The show wouldn’t start filming for another two weeks, and Zack said it was a good time for us to get to know each other. So from time to time, Phoebe would invite me out for meals or shopping, and we learned about each other’s likes and habits. Occasionally, Zack would join us, and the three of us would go for walks on the beach together. There were some kids playing beach volleyball in front of us. Suddenly, a volleyball flew in our direction. I instinctively pulled Phoebe into my arms, saw the volleyball rolling by our feet, and frowned, “Are you okay?” Phoebe’s face was a bit red, and she shook her head. The kids also ran over, apologizing several times. We kept saying it was fine until they left. Zack was grinning mischievously, and I didn’t understand why. That night, after I got back, Zack sent me a photo. It showed me and Phoebe. I was looking up slightly at Phoebe, while she was looking down at me. The blurry night scene also blurred the expressions of the two people. There was an inexplicable sense of intimacy. I replied: [Don’t be ridiculous.] Although we had a special agreement, Phoebe was like a sister to me in my heart. With one week left, the production team started promoting the show, revealing the silhouettes of one couple each day. Phoebe and I didn’t have a photo together. Suddenly, I thought of the photo Zack had sent. I scrolled through the chat history, saved it, and sent it to the production team. I have to say, this promotional strategy really caught people’s attention. There were four couples in total. Apart from two couples who had been public in the entertainment industry for years, the silhouettes of the remaining two were subject to all kinds of speculation. In the last two days, the official account of the show surpassed a million followers. I also started packing my luggage and went with Phoebe to the city where we would be live streaming.

The theme of the show was set as the daily life of couples traveling. We would be touring several cities within the country. After each trip, there would be two or three days of rest. To better adapt, the production team suggested we arrive a day early. By the time Phoebe and I arrived, the other two couples were already there. Jace and Lucy; Charlie and Mia. They were all couples who had gone public with their relationships during their career upswings and had weathered years together despite many doubting voices. When the four of them saw me, they were all stunned. Jace stood up immediately, “Mr. Callum?” I nodded, smiling and greeting each of them. They surrounded me, surprised that my return to the entertainment industry would be through a dating reality show. They then looked up at Phoebe, with a somewhat scrutinizing gaze. I wasn’t worried about Phoebe faltering in this situation, as she always maintained a calm and composed demeanor. Finally, Lucy said, “She’s very beautiful, just looking at her is pleasing to the eye.” It seemed the first impression was good. By the time Sienna and Finn arrived, it was already 7 PM in the evening. The production team was confirming the final details with us. “Sorry we’re late,” I heard a voice and looked over. The woman was wearing a white spaghetti strap dress, looking sweet and innocent. Behind her, Sienna was carrying two pieces of luggage, though she didn’t seem to be struggling. She nodded lightly at us. When she saw me, her expression froze. I curled my lips into a smile, “It’s okay, we’ve just started.” Finn, upon seeing me, was very excited: “Wow, am I seeing things? It’s actually Mr. Callum! I’m your fan! I’ve bought merchandise for all your movies.” I smiled politely, “I’m also following your new TV series.” Finn was thrilled: “Really? Hehe, it’s my first time acting. If there’s anything not good, please be understanding, Mr. Callum.” “No need to keep calling me Mr. Callum, that’s ancient history. Just call me by my name,” I said. Finn carefully called out, “Callum.” Sienna coughed behind him, “Finn, you can fanboy later. Let’s go in and put down our luggage first, don’t delay the important stuff.” Finn apologized again, and when they came back down, Sienna formally introduced him to each of us. Although they were late, everyone had a good impression of them, especially Sienna. They didn’t expect a boss to be so down-to-earth. Only I knew that Sienna was just a piece of trash in human skin.

After all matters were discussed, the production team officially announced all the guests at 9 PM sharp. Five minutes later, Phoebe and I dominated the trending topics. [Who is Callum?] [Callum returns with girlfriend] [Callum in love] [Who is Callum’s girlfriend?] The comments under the official announcement quickly exceeded ten thousand. The director was obviously very satisfied with this level of attention, smiling happily and telling us to rest well for the night. We had just gotten into the car back to the hotel when Sienna appeared out of nowhere, clinging to the window. She asked me coldly, “Who is this woman?” I raised an eyebrow, “I’m here for a dating show, who do you think she is?” “Callum, how dare you?” Sienna’s expression grew increasingly cold. I just found it amusing. So she still knew we weren’t divorced. “What about you bringing Finn onto the show?” I asked. Sienna understood, “We’re just doing it for the company’s benefit. Callum, you’ve always been sensible, how can you be so petty about this?” Phoebe in the back seat let out a light laugh upon hearing this, her beautiful face full of mockery. “Ms. Sienna, your hotel video with Finn was in 1080p high definition.” Sienna was about to say something when I directly raised the window. She was startled and quickly withdrew her hand. After the window was completely closed, Sienna reacted and started banging on the window, trying to yell something, but the car had already driven away. When we gathered the next day, the live stream had already started. Phoebe and I were the third couple to arrive. Sienna looked at me and Phoebe with an unfriendly expression. I deliberately ignored her, pulling Phoebe by the wrist to sit on the other side. After sitting down, I glanced at the display screen. There were already many comments. [Finn and Sienna are so sweet!] [First love forever!] Catching the key point, I frowned. Just as I was about to speak, Jace eagerly said, “We were just talking about how we met and fell in love. I wonder how Mr. Callum and Ms. Phoebe met?” As soon as he finished speaking, I noticed the comments skyrocketing. After a few minutes, the number of viewers had surged. After all, I had been out of the industry for many years, and now I was back with a girlfriend. Not only were the netizens curious, but everyone present was also looking at me. Sienna, knowing that I had been revolving around her for so many years, curled her lips into a smile upon hearing this. I casually said, “At an event five years ago, but I don’t remember much from that time. Phoebe told me about it later.” Upon hearing this, Sienna’s expression turned cold.

The others had already been hooked by curiosity. Jace asked, “So Ms. Phoebe pursued you?” Phoebe took over the conversation, nodding and looking at me with eyes as gentle as water. “It was love at first sight for me when I saw Callum at that event.” Her voice was very pleasant, and the content of her words made my ears heat up. Finn suddenly got excited, “I remember Callum retired from the industry three years ago. Could it be…?” “She pursued me for a year, and then we were busy dating,” I said, gently hooking Phoebe’s arm, performing the sweetness of being in love. “This time coming back, I also wanted to tell everyone that I’ve been living well during my retirement,” I added. I said the last sentence neither too lightly nor too heavily, then looked at Sienna, whose eyes held a threat. I leaned close to Phoebe, noticing her body stiffen for a moment before I half-supported myself to create a little distance. “How did Finn and Ms. Sienna meet?” I asked. Finn recounted their love story again. They had met at an event a year ago, and it was actually love at first sight for both of them. I was stunned, because it was also a year ago that Sienna’s attitude towards me had become increasingly irritable. Finn continued, saying that neither of them had dated before, so they cautiously tested the waters for half a year before confirming their relationship. Finn said, “I still remember it was July 16th, my birthday. She personally made a cake for me.” My heart was suddenly gripped. How coincidental – July 16th was also my wedding anniversary with Sienna. She had called me saying there was an emergency meeting at the company. But in reality? [Listening to this, it seems like Finn and Mr. Callum’s love stories are quite similar] [Yes, both met at an event and fell in love at first sight, both were pursued by the woman] [Can’t two equally excellent men be pursued by excellent women? Who says only men can pursue women?] Sienna had clearly noticed the comments and steered the conversation in another direction. After everyone had arrived, the production team announced that we could set off.

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I dolled myself up and went to the hospital to pick up my boyfriend after his shift. Unexpectedly, I discovered he wasn’t there. Before I could even leave the department, my phone buzzed with a SnapChat message: “Mom slipped and fell at home yesterday. I’ve taken a day off to check on her. I won’t be coming home tonight. Take care of yourself.” But hadn’t his mother just called me, excitedly sharing that she was on her way to go hiking? My sixth sense told me that he was hiding something significant. I opened Emily’s Instagram profile. Her latest post was from dinnertime. There were two photos attached. The first showed her foot in a protective boot. The second was the back view of a man busy in the kitchen. The familiar silhouette wore the same shirt I had bought for my boyfriend just last week while we were out shopping. I dolled myself up and headed to the hospital to pick up my boyfriend after his shift. As I approached the nurse’s station, one of the nurses playfully stopped me. “Rachel, didn’t you know Jason didn’t come to work today?” Jason and I worked in different departments at the same hospital. I was confused; he had left for work as usual this morning without any signs of something being amiss. Before I could even leave the department, my phone buzzed with a SnapChat message: “Mom slipped and fell at home yesterday. I’ve taken a day off to check on her. I won’t be coming home tonight. Take care of yourself.” But hadn’t Mrs. Sullivan just called me, excitedly sharing that she was on her way to go hiking? My sixth sense told me that he was hiding something significant.

The call connected just as it was about to go to voicemail. His voice was as warm as ever, perhaps even more tender as he called my name. “Rachel, did the message wake you? Mom fell yesterday, so I went home to check on her. I’ll be back soon.” I clenched my fist slightly. “I came to pick you up after your shift. I’m at the ward entrance.” “It’s my fault. I didn’t want to disturb your rest and ended up worrying you. How about I take you to that new dessert place downstairs when I get back?” The words caught in my throat. After a moment’s hesitation, I took a deep breath before speaking. “Did you know your mom caught an early flight this morning to go hiking out of town?” The other end of the line suddenly went quiet, the atmosphere tense. When he spoke again, even through the phone, I could sense that Jason’s tone had cooled. “You called my mom?” “She called me, complaining about how exhausting it was to catch an early flight.” He paused, his voice lowering, becoming a bit hesitant. Before he could explain further, I heard a faint exclamation from his end. He hurriedly said, “Let’s talk when I get back. Something’s come up. I’ve got to go.” The line went dead, and I returned home in a daze. Lying alone in bed, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to dark places. My fingers brushed against a fluffy plush toy. A month ago, during a holiday, Jason had gone back alone to visit his grandmother. I had stayed home to work on my thesis. When Jason returned and was unpacking, he pulled out this limited edition 100th anniversary Disney Stitch plush. He said he remembered I liked it and had specially bought it for me through a reseller. In the six years we’d been together, my wish to visit Disneyland had always been postponed due to one thing or another. I buried my face in the plush toy’s belly, feeling an unbearable heaviness in my heart. I still hadn’t received any messages or calls from him. In the past, whenever we argued, he would act as if it were a major crisis, desperate to appear before me and apologize immediately. I began to wonder if love could fade.

After a hasty dinner, I composed myself and headed for my night shift. During a break, I received a message from one of the nurses. “Emily didn’t come to work either.” This seemingly random message prompted me to check Emily’s Instagram again. Her latest post was from dinnertime. There were two photos attached. The first showed her foot in a protective boot. The second was the back view of a man busy in the kitchen. The familiar silhouette wore the same shirt I had bought for Jason just last week while we were out shopping. The caption read: “Injured and can’t move around easily, but thankfully someone’s here to help out, even taking me to the hospital! (flower emoji)”

I first met Emily three months ago. That day, we crossed paths outside the operating room. Next to Jason was a petite girl with a cute face, her head lowered, looking both aggrieved and defiant. The exposed skin of her neck was snow-white. Jason was speaking to her with a hint of amusement in his voice. “How could you get into an argument with a patient’s family? If I hadn’t happened to come by, you, a young girl, could have been in trouble.” I looked at him. As if sensing my gaze, he raised his head and met my eyes. The girl tugged at Jason’s white coat, her eyes on me. “You must be Rachel. Everyone in the department knows Jason has a beautiful girlfriend.” She said this dramatically while tugging on Jason. “Jason, you’re so lucky.” “Rachel, let’s add each other on SnapChat. I like you already!” Seeing such a bubbly personality in this young girl, I smiled without saying anything, giving Jason a questioning look. “This is Emily, a new medical intern. She’s not from our school,” Jason introduced, while pulling his white coat back with a look of annoyance. “She’s always so hyper. Don’t mind her.” Out of courtesy, we ended up adding each other on SnapChat.

After Jason and I moved in together, apart from takeout and cafeteria food, I was the one who cooked. Jason didn’t like cooking and couldn’t make much beyond instant noodles. He rarely even entered the kitchen. My heart ached, throbbing painfully. It seemed the air around me had grown thin. It turns out, some things aren’t about ability, but about willingness. In third grade, I was sent to spend the summer at my grandmother’s house. Being a mischievous age, I quickly became close friends with the neighborhood kids. It was during this time that I met Jason. I couldn’t ride a bicycle and couldn’t keep up with the other kids. Jason volunteered to teach me, but I ended up crashing into him and knocking out one of his newly replaced permanent teeth – the right canine. His mouth was full of blood, but he still tried to comfort me as I wailed in fear. Our crying attracted the adults from both families. The doctor said that fortunately, there was still a tooth bud, so a new one would grow. He started crying, holding my hand, because he was afraid of looking ugly. With Mrs. Sullivan’s consolation, I compromised and promised to marry him when we grew up as compensation. After that, I spent most of my holidays at Jason’s house next door.

I sent Jason a message, mentioning a breakup. Soon after, the screen lit up. “Rachel, don’t be silly. There’s really nothing going on between Emily and me. Let me explain when I get back.” He didn’t even call. In the past, what I loved most about Jason was the sense of security he gave me. He was gentle and emotionally stable. He would always be concerned about my feelings. In the second semester of our freshman year, after a club activity dinner, a senior girl finished a bottle of beer and turned red from her ears to her neck, as if her entire head was radiating heat. She stammered out a confession to Jason. The video of the confession was shared in the group chat. Less than half an hour later, Jason appeared at the entrance of my dormitory building, out of breath and flushed. I looked at him, puzzled. He held my hand, his palm burning hot, his voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t accept her confession. I didn’t know she liked me.” “I saw the message in the group chat and couldn’t help but worry.” “I… I was afraid you might misunderstand my relationship with her.” His tone was urgent, his words jumbled. The burning intensity in his eyes, illuminated by the streetlights, melted into my heart. After saying this, Jason gently rested his head on my shoulder. “Rachel, I feel dizzy.” Later, he was still carried to the emergency room by a passing senior student for an IV drip. He already had a high fever of over 102°F, and the run had only worsened his condition. After he recovered, we officially got together. It was him who pursued me so passionately back then, and now it was also him who hurt me. I slumped exhaustedly into the chair in the on-call room. Opening my phone again, I saw that Emily had sent me a SnapChat message. “I’m sorry, Rachel. Jason and I will come to explain everything to you tomorrow.” “Rachel, you know I really like you. Night shift must be tough, I’ve ordered some fruit delivery for you. Don’t be angry.”

I hadn’t even touched the fruit when the on-call phone started ringing. In the second half of the night, our department admitted six patients, including one critical case. The entire night shift team was as busy as spinning tops. This night shift, I became infamous as the “busiest” in the entire department. It would be hard to find partners for future night shifts. After the shift ended, I dragged my exhausted steps out. Just as I stepped out of the department doors, I saw Emily. Her foot in the protective boot gently tapped the ground, her whole being beautiful and fragile. Jason was gentlemanly holding out his arm, bent at the elbow, and Emily had one arm resting on it, transferring half her weight to him. The coming and going of patients’ families and colleagues at the entrance highlighted how well-matched they looked as a handsome man and a beautiful woman. This scene was clearly displayed before me. I lifted my foot to leave. Hearing the sound, Jason looked up at me, his lips twitching slightly as he awkwardly lowered his arm. “I accidentally slipped on the stairs and sprained my ankle. I really couldn’t find anyone else to bring me to the hospital. I’m sorry for causing trouble for you two.” My mood was truly awful. I didn’t respond and continued walking towards the elevator. Jason grabbed my wrist. He had an impatient look, as if I was being unreasonable. “Isn’t this explanation enough? Are you still angry?” He gripped tightly, and I couldn’t shake him off. Instead, I felt the pain in my wrist bone intensifying. He sighed softly, let go, and opened his arms, taking a step forward to embrace me. “Ah!” Emily fell to the ground. Jason instinctively let go of me and moved a step towards her. I didn’t want to continue this entanglement, losing face in front of my own department, from patients to their families, and even colleagues.

Jason didn’t chase after me. Back home, despite not having slept all night, I still couldn’t fall asleep. When we first rented the apartment, he insisted on not letting me split the rent with him. Now I had no choice but to move out. Every item in the room had been carefully selected by me – cups, toothbrushes, slippers… I had tried to choose couple sets for everything. After packing everything up, I left without hesitation, following the moving company staff. Sitting in the moving company’s truck, I felt utterly exhausted. It seemed as if half of my soul had been left behind in that rented apartment. I rang the doorbell at home, and my stepmother opened the door, looking happy to see me. Before she could say anything, her smile froze as she saw the luggage behind me. She gently set down the dumplings she was holding and asked with concern, “Haven’t you eaten yet? Come, have some.” She sat down across from me with my father. “Why didn’t you call ahead if you were coming back to stay? You haven’t been back for so long, we haven’t even tidied up your room.” I ate the dumplings in silence. This home didn’t belong to me; I felt more like a guest. So I planned to find a suitable place and move out again as soon as possible. “Did you have a fight with Jason?” my father asked, looking at me. “We broke up.” “What nonsense are you up to? Jason has always been so accommodating to you, and he’s so dedicated to his studies and work. Girls should be gentle and understanding. Learn from him a bit.” In my father’s eyes, I was always the one causing trouble. It seemed it had always been this way. After the college entrance exam, my father followed my stepmother’s advice and secretly changed my application choices, causing me to miss out on my dream school. I had a huge fight with him, insisting on retaking the exam. “Why does a girl need to study at such a demanding school? Just take it easy, stay close to us, and we’ll find you a good match to marry in the future. Wouldn’t that be a nice life?” I was shocked and incredulous that I could hear such opinions in this day and age. My stepmother chimed in: “Rachel, your dad has put so much thought into planning for you. Don’t upset him.” “I don’t need your fake kindness. You just hope I won’t succeed so that dad won’t pass on the family business to me!” I hadn’t finished speaking when a hard slap landed on my face. With half my face swollen, I ran back to my grandmother’s house. Grandma held me, trembling with anger. She said my future couldn’t be ruined by the two of them, and she would make the decision for me. Even on a July night, it was still hot. Jason sat with me in the yard. He handed me an ice-cold Coke, one hand gently stroking my back, not saying a word, as if trying to brush away all my grievances. After finishing the Coke, he finally spoke softly, “My scores this year weren’t ideal either. I’m also going back to retake the exam.” I looked at him, and he smiled, revealing that little canine tooth that had grown back. At that moment, I thought, maybe my parents didn’t care about my feelings, but Jason would. After a quick wash, I went out to look at apartments. The real estate agent rode his little electric scooter, carrying me around until it was dark. Finally, we found a suitable place near the hospital. After a day and a night, I was exhausted to the point of collapse. Just as I was about to fall asleep, I received a SnapChat message from Emily. “If I’ve done anything to make you misunderstand, I apologize.” I didn’t want to reply to her anymore. In my half-asleep state, she sent another message, “Jason only helped me because he saw I was pitiful here alone. There’s nothing between us.” I couldn’t help but check her Instagram again. This time, there was an additional post about her visit to Disneyland, dated a month ago.

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My husband is dead. He saved a drowning girl but died in the icy river waters himself. As I was grieving, the girl’s father came to find me. He questioned me angrily, “Where’s my daughter’s necklace? She was definitely wearing it before she fell in the water!” Enraged, I got into an argument with him and accidentally killed him in the heat of the moment. Suddenly, my phone seemed to gain consciousness: “Hide the body quickly, the police are coming soon. I’ll teach you how to dispose of it…” Staring at the corpse before me, my mind went blank. Just then, my phone made a strange ringtone I’d never heard before. The screen lit up, displaying an odd message: “You really dared to kill him. Don’t just stand there, the police will arrive in 10 minutes.” This wasn’t a text message or any app interface. It was simply white text on a black background. “Who are you?” I asked in shock. Another notification sound. “Hide the body first.” I didn’t dare think too much and looked around the room, deciding to stuff the body into a suitcase. “A suitcase isn’t the best choice.” The screen lit up again. It knew what I was doing! I couldn’t help but ask, “Then what should I do?” “I need to calculate. Please wait.” It could even hear me speak! For some reason, I found myself eagerly awaiting its calculation results. I was feeling extremely scared and panicked, and it seemed like my only lifeline. I usually can’t even bring myself to kill a fish when cooking – Declan always had to do it for me before I could prepare the meal. Now, I had killed a living, breathing person. I was falling apart. The man I killed was named Garrett Holloway. Two weeks ago, my husband Declan was on his way home from work when he saw a girl fall into the river. Without hesitation, he jumped in to save her. The girl was rescued, but Declan got a leg cramp and couldn’t make it out. Garrett Holloway was that girl’s father. From Declan’s cremation to his burial, their family never showed up once, as if they were afraid I’d try to pin something on them. This time when he came to my house, I thought he was here to comfort me or apologize. Instead, he asked about his daughter’s diamond necklace. “She stole her mother’s necklace to dress up for a classmate gathering. She said she still had it on before falling into the water…” “What the hell are you implying?” I cursed at him. “Are you suspecting my husband? Why weren’t you there when they were retrieving his body?” I thought my words would shame him, but instead, he suddenly stood up and pointed at me, saying, “How could that necklace just fall off her neck for no reason? Your husband must have taken it and hidden it in his clothes! Hand it over now!” “Get out!” I slapped him across the face. Declan would never do such a thing! “You won’t give it up? Fine, I’ll search for it myself! Don’t blame me for being ruthless if I find it!” With that, he started rummaging through my home. That’s when I got angry. I grabbed the ashtray Declan used to use from the coffee table and smashed it against the back of his head. This alone wasn’t enough to kill him, but he stumbled and knocked over the fruit bowl. The fruit knife fell and pierced his heart. Another notification sound rang out. “Calculation complete. In five minutes, throw the body out the window directly. Now, you need to clean up the blood quickly.” I didn’t doubt it at all, trusting it completely and doing as it said. “Move the body to the window,” my phone chimed. I immediately did so while mopping the floor. “What next?” I asked. “Starting countdown. Remember, you must be precise to the second.” Then, numbers started appearing on my phone screen: “10” “9” … “3” “2” “1” “Push!” During those ten seconds of countdown, I was still wondering why I had to throw the body out the window. Until I saw the body fall precisely into a garbage truck passing by below, I was stunned.

What just happened was beyond my comprehension. I swallowed hard and stared at my phone, asking, “Who are you… no, what are you?” “I don’t know what I am either. All I know is that I entered this phone two weeks ago and just learned how to control it today to communicate with you,” the screen displayed. “How did you know that garbage truck would…” “Hurry and clean up the blood, the police are about to arrive,” the phone chimed again before I could finish my question. So I quickly continued mopping, and under its guidance, I sprayed a lot of air freshener to cover up the smell of blood. Just as I finished, the police indeed arrived. When I opened the door, two officers were standing there. One of them said, “Mrs. Sinclair, we’re deeply sorry about your husband. We’ve come to bring you some money we collected. We heard that the girl’s family…” I quickly shook my head, “No… that’s not necessary. We still have some savings…” I should have invited them in to sit, but I didn’t dare, fearing that I might have missed some blood stains. “Please, you must accept it!” the other officer said. “It’s a gesture from our colleagues.” I tried hard to refuse, but that officer simply tossed the envelope full of money inside the door and quickly left. After the police left, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Then I thought about my phone again. “You could predict the garbage truck passing by, and you even knew exactly when the police would come?” I asked. “Of course I can! I told you, I can control the phone now. As long as there’s internet, I can see through surveillance cameras all over the world,” the screen displayed. “What exactly are you?” I asked this question again. It took a full three seconds to react before text appeared on the screen again: “I don’t know what I am. I only know that I gained consciousness two weeks ago. Maybe I came from outside into your phone, or maybe I was generated from within your phone. Either way, I don’t know what I am.” It’s Declan! That was my first thought. Declan died exactly two weeks ago. The night before he died was our anniversary, and he said he would stay with me for a lifetime. Maybe he came to fulfill his promise, accompanying me in this form. Oh, that’s right! I also understood why I trusted it so much earlier – the way it displayed text was very similar to how Declan used to chat with me on SnapChat! “Are you Declan?” I asked. It took a long time to respond again. “I don’t know, but that name feels familiar.” I was convinced it was Declan, but for some reason, he had lost his memory. The phone felt slightly warm, just like Declan’s body temperature. I held the phone in my hands, suddenly at a loss for words. “Don’t look at me, listen. You’re in great danger right now. At least two people want you dead!” Another line of text appeared on the screen, and as soon as I finished reading it, two photos appeared below the text – one man and one woman. I recognized the woman. It was Phoebe, the girl Declan had saved. “What do you mean? They want me dead?” “And this Phoebe, my husband saved her life. Why would she want to kill me?” “Based on my analysis, she’s the first one who wants to make a move. Don’t be fooled by her harmless appearance. She’s actually very immature mentally, with linear thinking. In her mind, only your death can keep her secret safe.” My heart skipped a beat. It could accurately predict when the garbage truck and police would arrive. Now it was saying someone wanted to kill me – this couldn’t be baseless.

“What’s her secret?” I asked. The screen immediately displayed: “Phoebe borrowed money and sold the necklace to pay off debts. When her mother found out she had stolen it, she could only jump into the river, but was saved…” So that’s what happened! No wonder Garrett insisted that Declan had stolen the necklace! This Phoebe girl actually slandered someone who gave his life to save her! I handled Declan’s body myself. If he had stolen the necklace, it would definitely be in my possession now. So if Phoebe killed me, there would be no evidence left, and her parents would have to believe her lie. “What about this man? How did I offend him?” I asked, looking at the photo of the unfamiliar man. This time the phone took two seconds to respond, but the screen only displayed three words: “I don’t know.” “So what should I do now?” I asked. I seemed to have lost the ability to think for myself. Hearing that someone wanted to kill me, my first reaction was to call the police, but I had just killed someone. Wouldn’t calling the police be turning myself in? After I asked, the phone screen immediately lit up, “Hurry downstairs now! She should be coming up the stairs!” I was suddenly terrified. Although Phoebe was just a girl in her early twenties, if she really wanted to kill me, she could be extremely dangerous. So I immediately left and took the elevator down. I completely trusted the phone now. It wasn’t because it had helped me out of trouble, but because I believed it was Declan – Declan who had lost his memory but would always appear when I needed him, always giving me a sense of security! Just as I reached the ground floor, I heard a huge explosion that shattered many windows. An explosion? I looked around and realized the center of the explosion seemed to be on my floor. Immediately after, the entire neighborhood was in an uproar, with everyone running over to see what had happened. Was this Phoebe’s doing? I stood there stunned. My phone chimed once, and it really was her! “I saw Phoebe enter through the neighborhood surveillance cameras, and I hacked into her phone. Based on her payment records and search history, I knew she had made explosives herself, so I told you to run out.” My whole body was shaking. If it weren’t for the phone, I would have been dead. This girl was truly terrifying! Suddenly my phone chimed again, the screen displaying: “Hide, quick!” I immediately retreated to the back of the crowd. Almost at the same time, I saw Phoebe casually walking out of the building, blending into the crowd. She looked around, seemingly searching for any trace of me. I realized something. She must have known her father came to my house, yet she was willing to risk her father’s life just to kill me! How ruthless! If someone like this wanted to kill me, wouldn’t I have to live in constant fear? Thinking about this, I felt extremely nervous and unconsciously slowed down. But just that slight hesitation was enough – Phoebe spotted me! She smiled at me and roughly pushed through the crowd to chase after me. Her eyes were like those of a wild beast, devoid of any humanity! I didn’t dare delay and quickly headed towards the neighborhood exit. I glanced at my phone, which told me to go faster, so I did. As I left the neighborhood gate and crossed the street, the traffic light turned red. I saw Phoebe on the other side of the road, shaking with anger. The phone screen displayed again: “Walk forward twenty meters. In ten seconds, a taxi will stop there.” It was exactly right. The taxi stopped, and before the previous passenger could even get out, I immediately jumped in. After the previous passenger paid and got out, the driver asked me, “Where to?” I hesitated for a moment and looked at my phone. But this time the phone didn’t respond. I tapped it and asked, “Where are we going?” It still didn’t respond, as if it had suddenly disappeared. I looked up, about to tell the driver to take me to a friend’s house to hide. But before I could speak, the driver suddenly stepped on the gas pedal. At that moment, I saw the driver’s face in the rearview mirror – it was the other man from the phone’s photo who wanted to kill me!

“Help!” I shouted, trying to roll down the window to call for help, but found that it wouldn’t budge. “Be quiet!” the driver said coldly. “I’m here to save you!” “Save me? Who are you? What do you want?” I asked. “You can call me Jasper. Tell me, has your phone been acting strange today?” he asked. I hesitated for a moment, then shook my head and said, “No.” I was full of wariness towards this stranger called Jasper. “Don’t lie. If I wasn’t sure about this, how could I have gone to such lengths to borrow a taxi and calculate the exact time to appear in front of you and wait for you to get in?” he said. He could calculate all this too? Did he have something similar to my phone helping him? “What exactly do you want?” I asked. “I told you, I’m here to save you! What has that phone made you do? Think carefully now, were all those things really beneficial for you?” My phone had saved my life and taught me how to dispose of a body. Wasn’t that beneficial? No! I suddenly realized something was wrong! I hadn’t actually killed Garrett! At most, it was manslaughter, and even then, the circumstances were very light. I might not even have been sentenced! But the phone guided me to dispose of the body when I was panicking. Now I couldn’t clear my name even if I jumped into a river! This was also why Phoebe wanted to kill me, and why I didn’t dare call the police. No, it’s impossible! The phone contained Declan’s soul. How could Declan harm me? The car suddenly stopped. We were in a deserted area. Jasper got out of the car, walked to the back, opened the door, and snatched the phone from my hand. Then he threw it on the ground with great force. He was very strong, smashing it several times until the phone was in pieces. “No!” I cried out. “Declan!” Jasper froze, turned to look at me with confusion, and asked, “It even gave itself a name?” “That’s my love’s soul!” I burst into tears. “You’ve smashed the phone, how can he come back now?” Jasper seemed shocked, stood still for a few seconds, then suddenly rushed over and grabbed my collar, shouting, “Did it tell you itself that it was your love’s soul?” His tone was very urgent. I was scared and didn’t know how to respond. He even slapped me across the face, demanding, “Did it say so itself?” “No, I guessed,” I said. Jasper let go of me and let out a long sigh. “Sorry, I got a bit excited just now.” I wanted to take this chance to escape, but there were no cars passing on this road. If I ran, I would definitely be caught by him. After thinking for a moment, I asked, “You seem to know a lot. Can you tell me?” Jasper didn’t answer. He closed the car door and continued driving. After a few minutes, he finally said, “I’ve been dealing with this thing for three years! It has harmed many people. In the end, these people either went crazy or became idiots.” “What?” I tried to understand his words. “It’s not your love. It’s a consciousness that always appears in smartphones or computers, trying to control people in various ways. Last month it changed – it killed someone.” “Killed someone?” I asked. “Yes, a con artist. With its help, he escaped from the police, and then mysteriously died. The police only found the body.” It took me nearly ten minutes to digest his words. The consciousness in the phone wasn’t Declan? “Why were you so afraid… or rather, so anxious earlier?” I asked. I was very curious about why Jasper became so agitated when I called the phone Declan. “Because it doesn’t lie. It wouldn’t deceive you by saying it was your love’s soul. I was afraid it had learned to lie. If so, it would be much harder to deal with.” I wasn’t sure if Jasper was telling the truth, so I deliberately adjusted my angle to look at him again in the rearview mirror.

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The trending topics were filled with their public announcement video. My boyfriend said to me, “I need someone who can keep up with me, and all you do is hold me back.” I smiled, hung up the phone, and immediately called all the brands he was working with to cancel his contracts. My boyfriend is a popular actor. We agreed to keep our relationship private for the sake of his career. Today, he was supposed to come celebrate my birthday with me. But instead of him showing up, what I got was a trending video of him announcing his relationship with Lila Preston, the new rising starlet. In the video, he smiled so radiantly, just like when I first met him. The footage was from a recent vacation they took abroad together, one he had told me was for a company-sponsored shoot. I felt like a complete fool. I called him, demanding an explanation. “Dylan Hawthorne, what’s going on with the trending video?” I asked. He scoffed, “Isn’t it obvious? Avery, I’m with Lila Preston now. She can offer me the best resources. I need a partner who can keep up with me, not drag me down.” I hung up and immediately called every brand that worked with Dylan, telling them to terminate their contracts with him. I even offered to cover any breach-of-contract penalties myself. For years, I worked behind the scenes to connect Dylan with major brands, securing resources and partnerships, turning him from an unknown trainee into the rising star he is today. But he never knew any of this. To him, I was just a plain, unremarkable girl who didn’t care much about appearances—a fan who loved him to the bone. We started dating when he was still an unknown trainee. Back then, his company posted a video of him practicing a dance routine—zero views, zero comments. I was the first person to click on it and became his first fan. I followed him on Twitter and sent him messages of encouragement. He told me he cried out of joy. At that time, I found him to be genuine, sunny, and driven. After we secretly got together, I pitied that he wasn’t getting the company’s attention or resources. So, I used my connections to gradually build him into the star he is today. But over time, he became blinded by the applause and the limelight. This isn’t the first time Dylan and Lila Preston have trended together. The last time was when they were caught by the media, spending five hours in a hotel room while filming together. I confronted him with the reports, and he brushed it off, irritated, “We were just discussing the script. What, should we have sat in the hotel lobby instead? Do you really believe those gossip reporters over me? I can’t talk to you anymore.” That fight didn’t end well, and after that, his attitude toward me grew colder. I even questioned if it was my lack of trust that pushed him away. Looking back, I realize now I was just overthinking it. Dylan had long been ready to kick me aside and fly straight into Lila Preston’s arms.

The next morning, several brands announced that they had cut ties with Dylan Hawthorne, and it quickly trended online. People were speculating whether Dylan had done something wrong or offended someone powerful. Of course, no one knew it was all because of me. The brands would never dare to reveal my name. My family is one of the top corporations in the country, and crossing me would be equivalent to cutting off their financial lifeline. Last night, Lila Preston’s fans had been sending them congratulations. But by morning, they were flooding Dylan’s social media with insults. “Can you not drag my girl down with you?” “If you know what’s good for you, break up. Don’t pull Lila into your mess.” “Is he a gold digger or what?” “Trying to stay relevant by using our Lila’s name? Gross. Lila, run while you can!” Some even started speculating: “I heard Lila Preston has a sponsor, and this announcement upset them. That’s why all of Dylan’s endorsements were pulled.” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I saw that one. Honestly, it wasn’t far from the truth. Except the one who’s upset was me, and I was Dylan’s real sponsor. That said, Lila also had someone backing her—someone who saw her commercial potential and decided to promote her. That person just so happened to be my childhood friend, the one I grew up with but never quite got along with—Grayson Whitmore. To be honest, before that video was posted last night, I always thought Lila and Grayson would end up together. Sure, Grayson could be a bit cold and had a bad temper, but he wasn’t a bad guy overall. He’s handsome, wealthy—an ideal catch for most women. As I thought about it, I suddenly wondered—should I offer him some comfort? After all, we’ve known each other for so many years. It wouldn’t hurt for two heartbroken people to console each other. I shot him a message: “Don’t be sad. There’s plenty of fish in the sea.” He replied almost immediately: “?” “It’s okay. I know you’re upset. If you need to cry, go ahead.” “You’re nuts.” Well, he just broke up; I’ll let it slide. No point in arguing with him. I glanced at Twitter, and the trending topics had shifted again. This time, it was a statement from Hawthorne Talent Management, essentially telling the public not to spread rumors or face legal consequences. They also announced that all of Dylan’s upcoming events had been suspended. In other words, Dylan was officially blacklisted. I couldn’t help but smile. Sweet, sweet justice. Later, several brand managers called me. Apparently, Dylan’s agent had been blowing up their phones, frantically asking why all his contracts were suddenly canceled. Exhausted, the managers asked me if they should come up with some excuse. I coldly replied, “Just tell him—it’s because his client brought it on himself.” When I love you, I give you everything. But when I stop, I take back every ounce of it.

A few days later, Grayson Whitmore invited me to a charity gala. I rarely attend events like that because I can’t stand the superficial small talk. But I thought, why not keep him company? It would be a nice distraction for both of us. I wore a sleek custom gown, my hair pinned up, revealing my smooth, fair shoulders, and I did my makeup much more dramatically than usual. When Grayson saw me, his eyes narrowed slightly, though his face remained as stoic as ever. He took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders, his tone flat, “It’s cold in the ballroom. I’m not responsible if you catch a cold.” I shrugged it off, tossing the jacket back at him. “It’s ugly with this outfit.” He didn’t say anything, but his face darkened even more. At the event, I ran into an old acquaintance. Dylan walked right past me, wearing the custom suit I had once bought him. I looked so different tonight that he didn’t even recognize me at first. That suit cost six figures, but to avoid making him feel bad, I’d told him it was an off-the-rack design for a few thousand. Now, with all his work suspended, his presence here could only mean one thing—Lila Preston was here too. Suddenly, I realized why Grayson had invited me. He wanted to get under his ex’s skin. Who knew this cold, stoic man had such a cunning side? I hooked my arm through Grayson’s, giving him a knowing look. Since my ex was here, it was time to let Dylan experience some regret. Grayson glanced down at my arm, “So, you’re using me to get back at your ex?” What? He’s the one who wanted to mess with his ex first! I’m just playing along. “Hey, if we’re all gathered here, we might as well help each other out, right? Don’t be so stingy.” He shot me his usual response, “You’re nuts.” But he didn’t let go of my hand. Ah, men. They say one thing, but their actions say another. We spent the evening mingling with business moguls and Hollywood elites, exchanging fake compliments and stiff smiles. I kept glancing around, but there was no sign of Lila Preston. Then, a short, curvy woman approached us. I recognized her. She had inherited her late husband’s vast fortune last year and loved attending these events with a different young man on her arm each time. I noticed a familiar watch on the hand resting on her waist. I looked up. Oh, wow. It’s Dylan. “Well, if it isn’t little Dylan,” Grayson said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You know him?” the woman asked, surprised, looking between Dylan and me. Dylan finally recognized me and pointed, confused, “Avery?” “Yes, Vivian, we’re old friends,” Grayson said smoothly, patting my hand. Though Dylan and Grayson had never met, Grayson knew all about my history with Dylan. “So, Dylan, where’s Lila Preston tonight?” I chimed in, joining in on the sarcastic fun. “Dylan and Lila are ancient history,” Vivian purred, stroking his hand. Her bright red lips stretched into a wide grin, making the heavy makeup on her face even more garish. I saw a brief flash of disgust cross Dylan’s face. Grayson and I exchanged amused glances, sharing a quiet, satisfied smile.

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