Category: English

My twin sister attempted suicide and was hospitalized. The bullies followed her to the hospital, taunting her and blaming her for what happened. Later, I went to school wearing the same face as my sister. The bullies were thrilled, but I was even more so, because I was a born monster. The only person who could keep my darker thoughts in check was my sister. This was my sister’s second suicide attempt. Without a moment’s hesitation, our parents called the police, their voices tremulous with fear and desperation. Yet, even in the face of the officers’ stern questioning, the main bully remained insufferably smug. “Why are you accusing me of bullying her? Maybe she was bullying me!” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction. “Yeah, my daughter is so gentle, she wouldn’t even hurt an ant.” I watched the mother and daughter pair lie through their teeth on the hospital’s surveillance camera. My sister, who had greeted the day with a bright smile, now lay pale and frail on the hospital bed, her spirit crushed. The girl named Tasha Zayne, her demeanor a twisted mix of arrogance and malice, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “If she acts cheap, I’ll deal with her. Simple as that. What can you do? If you’re so tough, go ahead and lock me up!” After saying this, Tasha even stuck her tongue out at my sister, her expression a mask of unrepentant cruelty. There wasn’t a hint of remorse or fear in her eyes, Tasha’s mother met my mom’s gaze with disdain, quickly looking away. “Hmph, like mother, like daughter, they’re practically cut from the same cloth.” My mom let out a casual laugh. I knew she was angry. Michelle Lindh, one of Tasha’s loyal followers, found a twisted courage and turned her gaze toward my sister, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disgust and malice. “Slitting her wrists?” she sneered. “If she really wanted to die, she should have jumped from the 18th floor and made sure she splattered. What’s the point of slitting wrists if you can’t even die from it? I bet she’s just trying to scam us for money, right, Tasha?” “Hmph! She’s such a troublemaker” Tasha sneered. With insufficient evidence and since they were all minors, the incident ended with Tasha giving a half-hearted apology. At home, our little princess lay silently on the bed, completely lifeless, her body covered in wounds, big and small. My parents and I finally noticed something different. After a long silence, I said, “I’ll go to school in her place.” My parents understood what I intended to do. As I faced the mirror, the reflection that stared back at me was an eerie replica of my sister’s face.

My sister and I are twins, so identical that outsiders can never tell us apart. There were times when even our parents, who should have known us best, almost couldn’t distinguish between Naomi loves pink. All her school supplies and even her bedding are pink. As for me, I only love black. Mom often teased her with a wry smile, “Naomi, if you hadn’t come from my belly, I’d swear you were adopted.” Mom wasn’t entirely wrong. In our family, Naomi is the special one. She’s different from us, pure and kind by nature, and has been carefully protected by me and our parents. But I was born “sick,” a monster in the eyes of others, with only Naomi willing to play with me. For the safety of others, my parents kept me home to study. I didn’t mind because as long as Naomi was there, I never felt lonely. Our parents said Naomi was the family’s top priority. So, I’ve always protected her from the shadows. But we never imagined that after just a year of high school, she would end up like this. The doctor said we needed to take care of Naomi’s emotions. I stroked her forehead and whispered, “Naomi, I will avenge you.” Just then, a sudden phone ringtone broke the silence. Naomi’s face turned deathly pale, and she covered her ears, screaming. I took her phone and opened the message. It was a video showing Naomi being held under a faucet in the bathroom. Her wet hair clung to her cheeks, and her face was flushed red from being choked by the water. The culprit stood to the side, laughing. “If I catch you talking to him again, I’ll slash your face. Let’s see how you can flirt with the boys in our class then!” The video ended with a warning from the bully. Fury surged through my chest, nearly overwhelming me. I closed my eyes and shut off the phone. Naomi’s teeth chattered, and it took her a while to stammer out, “They took a lot of videos of me without any clothes on.” I patted her head gently, looking at her with tenderness. “Do you trust your sister?” Naomi nodded. I walked out into the backyard and used a hoe to dig a new patch of soil. Soon, someone else would be joining us here. Curses rang out nearby. “You’ll all be struck by lightning! You’ll die in the most miserable way!”

I shouldered Naomi’s schoolbag. From now on, I was Naomi Wyth. Annie became Naomi. As soon as I stepped into the classroom, a book flew at my face. I dodged to the side. “Tasha told you to bring breakfast, and you didn’t. You have a death wish?” It was Michelle—Tasha’s loyal little minion, the one whose laughter pierced the video like a venomous knife. Her cruel delight in the suffering of others was palpable, a dark pleasure that twisted her face into a sneer of sadistic glee I ignored her and walked straight to Naomi’s seat. The wooden desk was carved with all sorts of insults: “bitch,” “whore”… “Still admiring those words we carved just for you? Not enough? How about we carve them on your face?” Michelle’s grin grew even wider when I stayed silent. She sauntered up to me, her beady eyes gleaming with malice as she looked down, her smile morphing into a cruel sneer. “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” she drawled. “Tasha will absolutely love it.” Something feral simmered in my veins, seething and coursing through my entire body with a mind of its own. It was a wildfire of rage, and I had no intention of quelling it. Without a moment’s hesitation, I surged forward, my arm cutting through the air with a fierce intent. The slap exploded with a thunderous crack, reverberating through the room like the roar of a storm. A vivid, crimson handprint bloomed across Michelle’s face. “You dare hit me? Just wait until Tasha gets back—you’re dead!” Her voice turned shrill, like a broken chord. The other students, caught off guard, froze, their smiles fading. I narrowed my eyes. “Why aren’t you laughing anymore?” Michelle raised her hand, about to strike back, but the class bell rang. She shot me a venomous glare and returned to her seat. I stuffed the schoolbag into the desk. My hand touched something wet. The desk was filled with greasy snack wrappers, emitting a sickening stench. The homeroom teacher, Ms. Rosetta, walked in. She glanced at me before saying, “Naomi, class has started. Why aren’t you sitting down?” “My desk is full of trash Tasha and her friends stuffed in, and the chair is covered in glue.” I watched as her expression stiffened. She slowly lifted her gaze, snorting, “Are you saying Tasha did this to you?” I said nothing, just stared at her quietly. She scoffed, her laughter tinged with contempt. “Impossible!” she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. “Tasha is the top student in the grade—she would never do something like this. Even if she isn’t here today, I won’t let you besmirch her name!” Michelle shot me a smug look, nodding slightly, her lips curving into a smile. “Ms. Rosetta, she’s just jealous of Tasha. Everyone knows Tasha’s a good student.” “Sit down. If you don’t want to learn, don’t disrupt the others,” Ms. Rosetta snapped at me. I flipped the desk over, revealing the trash inside. The greasy wrappers spilled onto the floor, drawing gasps from the class. Michelle’s eyes blazed with venomous defiance. “Maybe you’re just lazy and have a secret love for snacks,” she sneered, her voice dripping with scorn. “You probably didn’t even bother to throw out your trash and now you’re trying to pin it on me!” Ms. Rosetta’s gaze was contemplative, her expression settling into a thoughtful frown. “I find it hard to believe Tasha would target you,” she said slowly, her voice carrying an edge of reluctant wisdom. “If she did, perhaps it’s time for you to reflect on why. There’s an old saying: it takes two to tango…” I dashed forward, delivering another sharp slap that resounded through the classroom. I smirked at the teacher. “Ms. Rosetta, does this sound like a one-sided slap to you?” No one expected me to be so bold. Even the teacher was stunned. Her face flushed a furious crimson, veins throbbing in her neck as if ready to burst. “Naomi!” she roared, her voice trembling with rage. “How dare you lay a hand on your teacher!” Her words were a torrent of indignation, each syllable punctuated with a fierce determination. “I’m calling your parents! You’re not staying in this school!”

My mom arrived at school quickly. As soon as she saw me, she gave a slight smile, as if to say, “Well done.” In the office, Ms. Rosetta was venting her frustrations to my mom, complaining about how disobedient I was. “All I did was reprimand her, and she dared to hit me? In all my years of teaching, I’ve never seen a student so disrespectful!” My mom tilted her head slightly, casting an indifferent glance at the teacher, her gaze filled with deep disgust. “Ms. Rosetta, don’t you think you might be the problem here? Why did Naomi hit you and not the other teachers?” The words struck a familiar chord. I chuckled. The teacher was rendered speechless by my mom’s half-smiling face. Finally, she blurted out, “Let’s go see the principal. Let’s see if they’ll keep this worthless student or me!” “Sure,” my mom agreed. The moment we saw the principal, my mom rushed forward, shaking his hand eagerly. “This little incident shouldn’t bother the principal. Naomi’s so thoughtless. How about this: my husband and I have decided that as long as the student comes from a poor but honest family, we will sponsor them through graduation.” The principal’s eyes lit up. “Really?” My mom nodded, then glanced at Ms. Rosetta with a challenging look in her eyes. “We wouldn’t joke about something this important.” “That’s great, that’s great. This really isn’t a big deal. Kids will be kids, sometimes a bit naughty. Naomi just accidentally hit Ms. Rosetta. Ms. Rosetta has taught here for so long, she’s seen all kinds of students. Naomi’s just a little mischievous, nothing more. Right, Ms. Rosetta?” The teacher trembled with rage, her mouth twitching, but eventually nodded. The words she had planned to use to get me expelled got stuck in her throat. She couldn’t swallow them, nor could she spit them out. Her face turned ashen. I smiled lightly. This was only the beginning. I was sure that my sister had once reached out to the teacher, hoping she would help pull her out of the mire. But she hadn’t lifted a finger, instead aiding and abetting the bullies. My poor sister, did you see? Sometimes the methods you despise are the ones that truly work. Even when she was driven to the point of suicide, she never told me or our parents about what was happening at school. When we asked, she always brushed it off, saying that the teachers were good and that her classmates were nice. Even now, she still protected those demons. She knew that if they fell into our hands, death would be a mercy.

Tasha Zayne returned. It seemed she had heard about my “transformation” from her classmates—how Naomi Wyth had changed so much that she even hit a teacher and made a scene with the principal. She kicked over my desk. “I take two days off, and you suddenly think you’re something special? Let me see which hand you used to hit Michelle.” I didn’t even bother to look up, just slapped her across the face. “See? I used both hands.” Tasha’s fingers clenched into a fist, her knuckles cracking. “You bitch! How dare you hit me!” She lunged at me, and we started to fight. Her tactics were childish—pulling hair and scratching arms. It didn’t take long for her to lose the upper hand. I dragged her into the bathroom and pushed her head into the sink. The scene reminded me of my sister. She, too, had been held under the water, unable to breathe. Michelle stood frozen at the bathroom door, too scared to move. It wasn’t until Tasha screamed that she finally grabbed a mop and approached. “Michelle, what are you waiting for? Help me strip her clothes off! I’m going to make sure she gets her own video circulating online!” Tasha’s eyes were filled with hatred as she screamed, her face contorted in rage. “If you beat me fair and square, I’d have some respect for you. But you resort to such underhanded tactics, it’s disgusting.” Michelle, taking advantage of a moment when I was distracted, struck me hard on the back with the mop. Tasha managed to free herself and pinned me down. “Bitch! Slut! How dare you hit me!” she snarled, her nails raking across my face. Only when she saw the blood did her fury morph into a twisted, sickening pleasure. A dark satisfaction gleamed in her eyes as she savored the moment. “Now,” she sneered with a cruel edge, “let’s see you try to flirt with the boys!” The taste of blood filled my mouth. But instead of fear, I found myself smiling. “Are you targeting me because I’m prettier than you? Are you jealous that all the boys in class like me?” I guessed right. The moment I said this, Tasha’s expression changed. “Is that why you have this seductive look on your face? Are you desperate for male attention?” Everyone knew my sister was beautiful. It was no secret. Our family had always made an effort to maintain our looks. We had our own methods. Looking at Tasha and Michelle, I couldn’t help but laugh so hard that I doubled over. People like them would make excellent beauty products.

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When I die, he’ll be holding another woman. I succeeded in my plan. I’ll become the pain he can never forget for the rest of his life. “Miss Adams, here’s your medication. Please take it.” I took the white pill bottle and said thanks. With these sleeping pills, I should be able to get some good rest. It’s time to start the plan. Sitting in the taxi, I thought about the message Adam had just sent me. “There’s a party tonight, won’t be coming home.” I knew what kind of party it was – a welcome back party for Vivian Summer. I have to say, this Vivian is quite something. After dating Adam for a year, she had him wrapped around her finger. I accompanied Adam from age 21 to 27, a full six years, but it couldn’t compare to a single tear from Vivian. I’ve actually lived through this once before. At the end of the story, Adam married Vivian, and I died on their wedding day. I went insane and jumped off a building. I got nothing out of it. How could I accept that? So I came back to life, in the year Adam was 19. Following the normal trajectory, I would meet Adam at 21, when he was just starting his business, and I became his right-hand woman. My parents didn’t love me, his family was broken, and we licked each other’s wounds. For six long years, we even reached the point of discussing marriage. But the variable came at this party – Vivian was back. Not only was she back, but she also expressed her lingering feelings for Adam at the party. The two of them hit it off, and my six years of youth became a sacrifice. At 19, Adam was still the young master of the Chen family, getting whatever he wanted, dating the most beautiful girl, Vivian. At 20, Adam’s family fortunes declined, Vivian left him, and his life took a nosedive. I knew everything, so I entered his world ahead of time. I didn’t interfere with his relationship with Vivian. I watched Adam and Vivian date, watched them embrace, watched them kiss. Those sweet memories that once came from Vivian’s mouth, I saw them firsthand. For a whole year, my heart was soaked in their sweet atmosphere until it rotted. I waited quietly, waiting for the right moment. After Vivian left, I entered his world completely with the most sincere love, in the year when Adam fell into the dust. How ridiculous was the 20-year-old Adam? Childish and stubborn, refusing and waiting over and over again. Refusing me, waiting for Vivian. But companionship is the most enduring confession of love. Adam finally accepted me, and I accompanied him through his darkest year. Then, the story developed just as I remembered. He went from a newbie entrepreneur to a business tycoon, from rejecting me to proposing to me. Until – this party. “Miss, we’re here.” The horn interrupted my thoughts. I picked up my phone, displaying my chat history with Adam. The last message was at 11:35 PM “Do you need me to pick you up? Don’t drink too much, I’m worried about you.” Adam didn’t reply. I opened the car door and got out, doing something I had never done in my memory. The plan starts from this moment. The lights in the bar were swaying. I spotted Adam at a glance, sitting with his back to me. He was wearing a suit, standing out among the oddly dressed crowd. Vivian was sitting next to him, in a black dress, also standing out from the crowd, but matching Adam somewhat. The people sitting around them were all familiar to me, Adam’s fair-weather friends from when he was still a young master. I waited for a long time, thinking I wouldn’t see anything, but suddenly there was an outburst of laughter from afar. They were cheering, the sound was loud. Amidst the cheers, Vivian stood up and planted a kiss on Adam’s lips. I took out my phone, zoomed in, and captured this moment. I couldn’t see Adam’s expression clearly, but Vivian’s smile was undisguisable. My hand holding the phone trembled, my heart ached. Adam seemed to sense something and turned around, I lowered my hat brim and turned away. He didn’t see me. Back at the home Adam and I shared, it was empty. The emptiness didn’t feel good. I took a shower and sat on the sofa, staring at the clock, counting the time. 1:28 AM, the sound of the door unlocking. I opened my drowsy eyes and ran towards Adam, throwing myself into his arms. Adam caught me, patted my head, his low voice sounding in my ear. “Why aren’t you wearing shoes? You’ll catch a cold.” I reached out and cupped his face, gently rubbing the spot where Vivian had kissed, my voice muffled. “Where have you been? You were gone so long, and you didn’t reply to my message.” He paused but didn’t answer, just carried me to the sofa and put socks on my feet. I kicked him twice with my foot, somewhat dissatisfied. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” He patted my head, seeming a bit helpless. “An important client, I didn’t drink, my phone was off so I didn’t see the message.” I looked at him. Adam, you’re lying. I didn’t pursue it further, instead acting coy with Adam as usual.

Early the next morning, Adam went to work. After he left, I crawled out of bed and went to the study. Among the full shelves of materials and classics was my diary. I pulled out the diary, every page I turned was filled with my innermost thoughts, from meeting Adam to now. In these years without Vivian, I felt the love I didn’t have in my previous life. Perhaps because I accompanied Adam through his low point, he treated me differently. Although I knew Vivian was still in his heart. Sometimes I would hesitate, thinking maybe this time would be different? But then I would think of those six full years of companionship, only to be exchanged for Vivian’s grand entrance, for Vivian wearing the wedding dress I had ordered, for them kissing amidst blessings on the day of my death. I was driven nearly mad with hatred. Adam must, like me, be tormented by overwhelming emotions day and night. Tears fell on the diary, my hand caressing the photo I had taken that day. Over and over again, cutting another wound on my heart. I thought I wouldn’t feel pain anymore. “I went to pick up Adam and saw a girl kiss him. The girl was very happy, but I was very sad.” A brand new page, a few lines written in a flowing hand. Excitement and depression occupied my emotions simultaneously. It’s strange, but somehow enjoyable. I closed the diary and put it back in its original place. I applied light makeup and wore a white dress. The girl in the mirror looked serene and gentle. Completely different from Vivian’s glamour. I raised the corners of my mouth, and the girl in the mirror made the same movement. Shallow dimples like they were filled with honey. Adam had complimented me long ago, saying I looked good when I smiled. But I don’t like to smile, not after coming back again. I prefer crying now, crying hysterically makes me feel like I’m still alive, with vivid emotions, a person of flesh and blood. It will make me always remember Adam’s indifference and Vivian’s provocation.

After going out, I went to Adam’s company. The employees in the company all knew me, but their eyes were somewhat evasive when they looked at me. I could probably guess why. As it turned out, I guessed right. From Adam’s office came a girl’s laughter. I looked in through the glass, the two of them were sitting at the same table eating. Vivian picked up a piece of carrot and was about to feed it to Adam. Adam frowned but still bit the carrot and swallowed it. Adam doesn’t like carrots. My hand hanging at my side opened and clenched. I almost couldn’t control myself as I pushed open the door and rushed towards Vivian, giving her a slap. “Don’t you know he has a girlfriend! Why are you being so shameless! Get out right now!” Vivian’s eyes were wide open, seemingly unable to believe I had hit her. After reacting, Vivian cried, sobbing and explaining. “I… I didn’t. I don’t know why you hit me, sis. We’re just good friends, you misunderstood, right, Adam?” I looked at Adam again. He thought for a long time before coming up with an answer. “Lily, stop making a scene. Vivian is just an old friend. You shouldn’t hit someone without reason, apologize to her.” My hand holding the lunch box trembled uncontrollably. Adam, you’re lying again. The scene remained frozen like this. Vivian’s sobs broke Adam’s patience. “Lily Adams, if you hit someone, you need to apologize! Apologize to Vivian!” Adam frowned, his hand tapping on the table again and again. I rarely saw him like this. For a moment, I remembered when Adam was 20, how I tried my best to please him, but he was as stubborn as a bull, telling me over and over, “Lily Adams, I won’t like you, give up.” Just like now. — All for Vivian. Memories surged, welling up in my eyes again, becoming silent tears. My throat choked, I forced myself to say those words. “I’m sorry.” Adam’s brow relaxed, and he smiled again. “Lily, sit down and eat with us.” Vivian beside him chimed in, her voice bright and unrestrained. “Yes, Lily, come eat with us. I bought this meal specially for Adam! It’s from a very famous restaurant.” She looked at me, her eyes full of undisguised provocation. I stayed calm and didn’t make a scene again. On the contrary, Adam looked very happy. I put the lunch box on the table. Adam seemed to suddenly remember something and froze. I knew what he was thinking. I would bring him lunch every day, it was my habit, and his habit too. But today, he ate Vivian’s meal. I suppressed the trembling in my voice and said with a smile, “I came to bring you lunch, but since you’ve already eaten, I’ll go home and eat.” Adam opened his mouth, but in the end, only one word came out. “Mm.” I resolutely turned and left. In a place Adam couldn’t see, belated tears slid down my cheeks. The employees next to the office looked at each other, I pulled myself together and left with a smile. But I could still hear their whispers. “What’s going on, how can the boss’s real girlfriend not compete with the mistress?” “Shh, don’t gossip. I went to the same school as the boss before, the woman in the office is the boss’s ex-girlfriend. They were very much in love back then, it was quite a beautiful story.” “Ah? In that case, who will the boss end up with?” “I don’t know, but that poor official girlfriend.” Yes, poor her indeed. I laughed self-mockingly and left Adam’s company.

The sunlight was blinding, I shielded my eyes with my hand. “Sister, would you like to take a look?” I lowered my hand and saw a stuffed bear. The clumsy body leaned towards me, somewhat comical. I took the flyer from his hand, it was for a nearby cafe. “I’ll go, thank you.” The image of me accompanying Adam to hand out flyers flashed in my mind. Those days when the streets were as hot as a steamer — that was the hardship I endured with him. I smiled at the mascot, about to leave when I heard his energetic voice. “Sister, your smile is very pretty.” I froze, those words echoing in my ears. Lily, your smile is very pretty. “Really?” I reflexively asked him. The rough fabric patted my cheek, the clumsy mascot was struggling to raise his hand. “If you don’t cry, it’s very pretty.” “Sister, don’t cry anymore.” I touched my eyes in a daze, my fingertips felt wet. I cried again? I shouldn’t cry. After a moment, a smile bloomed on my face. I hugged the mascot, and he didn’t refuse me. “Thank you.” I must be crazy. I just sat next to him, watching him hand out flyers one by one, chatting with passersby sentence by sentence. He told me to go home soon, I shook my head and refused. He didn’t mind, just moved his clumsy mascot costume to block the sun for me. So this is how it feels to be cared for, it’s so nice. As the sun set, he took off the mascot suit and sat with me. Next to us was the water he had run to buy for me. The weather was too hot, his hair was damp and limp on his forehead. I took out a tissue for him, he took it, wiped the sweat on his face, then pushed his bangs up. Very sunny, very handsome. Completely different from Adam’s steady looks. I stared at him in a daze, he waved his hand in front of my eyes, smiling and asking, “I’m handsome, right? You’re staring.” I was amused by his goofy expression. I pushed his hand away and stood up. “Don’t be so narcissistic.” “I need to go home now, you should go home early too.” The ride-share driver honked impatiently. I waved to him and got in the car. Through the car window, I saw him hugging the mascot suit, his back to the sunset, smiling and waving to me. I didn’t tell him that his smile was very nice too. Many years ago, it was me wearing the mascot suit to block the sun for Adam who hated the heat. Inside the mascot suit, it was stuffy and suffocating, like a steamer. Adam’s complaining tone and young master temper are still very clear in my memory. What was I thinking back then? I was thinking, if only someone would block the sun for me too. Why am I thinking about Adam again. Once again, I touched my eyes — dry. This time I didn’t cry. Back home, it was still empty. Vivian somehow added me on SnapChat, I accepted, but she didn’t send me a message. I knew what she was up to. Opening Instagram, sure enough, there was her playful caption and a photo. “Dinner with my favorite person! Even the lemonade tastes sweet~” The picture showed two glasses of lemonade and a sumptuous meal. And a man’s hand — obviously Adam’s. He was clever, even took off the watch I gave him. Once again, I wrote in my diary. “Today Adam forgot I would bring him lunch, and ate with another girl. That girl even fed him carrots he doesn’t like, I was so angry I slapped her. Adam took her side and made me apologize, I felt so hurt.”

After that day, Adam rarely came home. I often couldn’t sleep, even sleeping pills didn’t work. Sometimes I’d finally fall asleep in bed, only to wake up startled soon after. The dreams were pitch black nothingness. My hair was falling out in clumps, and I kept losing weight. Although I had made all the plans, including my death at the end, I still couldn’t achieve calm and indifference. Sometimes looking at my listless self in the mirror, remembering how bright and lively I was like Vivian before meeting Adam, I would break down crying uncontrollably. The plan needs to speed up, I’m afraid one day, I won’t be able to hold on anymore. I know what will happen in a few days. There will be a murder at the biggest mall. A mentally ill person will stab people with a knife in the mall. Coincidentally, Adam will be stabbed. Coincidentally, Vivian will save him. But what if, the person shielding him is me? I carefully applied my makeup, making my complexion look a bit more rosy. I looked at the clock — 8:40 PM It’s time. I left with my bag. The mall was bustling. I headed straight for the men’s section. I picked out a tie for Adam, standing at a distance, watching Vivian cling to Adam’s arm and act coy. Vivian also bought a tie. She put it on Adam herself. Adam looked very happy. Although his face was expressionless. I repeated the action of taking a photo the first time. Zoom in, press the shutter. Someone tapped my shoulder, I lowered my phone and turned around. “Sister, what a coincidence!” It was the boy in the mascot suit. I hadn’t forgotten what he said, he said my smile was pretty. So I smiled at him. “Sister, are you here to buy a tie too?” I waved the bag in my hand, letting out a barely audible “Mm.” “Sister, can we add each other on SnapChat? My name is Ray Sunshine.” Ray Sunshine, a very sunny name, just like him. I looked into his eyes, they were beautiful. More beautiful was the sincerity in them. It was hard to refuse. After exchanging SnapChat, he inquired about me more. “Sister, is the tie for your boyfriend?” I glanced towards Adam in the distance, nodding. Ray’s tone obviously dropped. Noticing my gaze, he also looked towards Adam. “Sister, is that your boyfriend? He doesn’t look like it, isn’t he with another girl?” I nodded again. Adding a sentence: “He won’t be much longer.” Adam, see, no one believes it. Ray smiled, his eyes curving, his thoughts written all over his face. “Sister, when you break up, can you give me a chance?” My hand holding the shopping bag tightened, I didn’t know how to feel. But before I could ponder an answer, a man in tattered clothes rushed out of the elevator. My pupils constricted sharply, I dropped the shopping bag and ran towards Adam. Adam, like everyone around, dodged while holding Vivian. It was chaotic, when the man rushed over, Vivian hadn’t reacted yet, the knife had already pierced my body. This time it was me. There were screams and calls for help around me. In the last second before I lost consciousness, I heard Adam anxiously calling my name. I succeeded, the story’s reversal will begin from this moment.

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My fiancé fell in love with his intern secretary Willow Bennett and insisted on breaking off our engagement. I kindly advised him, “She can’t help you become the heir of the Foster family. Why don’t you marry me first, and we can talk about it after you’ve secured your position?” The secretary felt insulted by my words and jumped off a building in public. Five years later, the first thing my husband did after becoming the Foster family heir was to divorce me and ruin my family’s business. “This is what you owe Willow Bennett,” he said. When I woke up again, it was my 22nd birthday party. People asked me what my birthday wish was. I smiled coldly, “I hope Caleb Foster marries Willow Bennett.” I died on a rainy day. Originally, we could have seen the mountain full of maple leaves, but Caleb couldn’t wait. I rolled down the stairs, step by step, blood spilling everywhere. He was still not satisfied. He pushed me down the stairs with his own hands, again and again. I was in so much pain I could barely make a sound, but I still asked reluctantly, “Why?” I didn’t understand. Our two families had always been close, and Caleb and I had been childhood sweethearts. For over a decade, my family had helped him establish his position in the family and become the heir. But he set a trap, causing my family to go bankrupt and my father to die of a heart attack. “Why, Caleb?” I clung to the hem of his clothes. Caleb’s face was frighteningly pale. Even though he was the one who hurt me, his expression looked as if I had let him down. “This is what you owe Willow Bennett,” he said through gritted teeth. Willow Bennett? This name sounded somewhat unfamiliar, so much so that it took me some effort to recall the name and the pure, delicate face behind it. I couldn’t help but laugh. Five years. So for these five years, Caleb had never forgotten her. So he blamed her death on me, on the entire Collins Group. “Caleb, you really are a…” Fool! Before I could utter the last two words, Caleb had already tightly gripped my neck. The oxygen in my chest was being drained bit by bit, blood trickling from the corner of my mouth. It looked just like those red maple leaves covering the mountain.

“Aria, are you having a headache again?” The cold rain disappeared. The hard floor disappeared. It was a clear autumn day, with guests gathering all around. My 22nd birthday party, which was also my engagement party with Caleb. Perhaps the heavens had opened their eyes, and I had actually been reborn. Not only was I not dead, but I had returned to when I was 22. This year, the Collins Group’s business was booming, and my father had entered the top ten on the Forbes list. This year, Caleb and I weren’t engaged yet. A gloating voice came from behind, “Yesterday, Caleb publicly admitted to the media that the little secretary is his girlfriend.” My best friend was about to go over, but I stopped her. Girlfriend? What Caleb did was far more than just admitting her status as his girlfriend. Three months ago, he went on a business trip and was drugged by a competitor. Willow Bennett saved him, and they ended up spending a night together. Caleb suddenly realized his true love and wanted to marry her. Including yesterday, they had been photographed by the media three times. “Aria, don’t listen to what the media says. You and Caleb have been together for so many years…” I looked at my best friend and shook my head. My friend’s words came to an abrupt halt. Of course, I knew what she was going to say. A week ago, I woke up at home. A week was enough time for me to sort out everything that had happened over the past five years. “Aria.” My friend suddenly reminded me, “Caleb is coming over.”

I looked up and saw Caleb walking towards me, surrounded by a crowd of people. The gossip behind me immediately disappeared. Caleb and I had grown up together. When we were five or six years old, our elders had already arranged our future marriage. Whenever someone bullied me as a child, he was always the first to stand up for me. When he made mistakes and got punished, I was always the first to plead for him. Before this, no one would have doubted that I was Caleb’s true love. But today, on my 22nd birthday, he brought another woman. Willow Bennett was thin and delicate, clinging to his side like a little white flower. Caleb smiled, whispering something intimately in her ear. She looked at me, her expression suddenly becoming flustered and at a loss. She took a few big steps forward. She bowed to me at a 90-degree angle.

It was exactly the same as in my previous life. Even the tear that was about to fall from her eyelashes was the same. In my previous life, it was this pitiful appearance of hers that deceived Caleb. I had grown up seeing arranged marriages for the sake of benefits in big families, and had never dared to hope for love. Her appearance made my heart sour, but not enough to lose my rationality. When Caleb wanted to break off our engagement, I didn’t cry or make a scene. Considering the years of friendship between our families, I only advised him a few words: “Willow is just an orphan, and she doesn’t have much work experience. Although you two…” “But if you marry her, your grandfather won’t agree, and it might cause trouble for her.” “Caleb, why don’t you keep her as a mistress for now, and in the future…” I spoke vaguely: “In the future, when you become the heir, won’t you be able to make your own decisions?” Just these few words, which were meant to help her avoid trouble, ended up bringing a world of trouble upon myself.

In my previous life, as soon as I saw Willow bow, I hurriedly helped her up. This time, I just watched her coldly. Seeing that no one was paying attention to her, she unhesitatingly knelt down and started kowtowing to me, banging her head again and again with loud thuds. My friend tugged at my sleeve. There were many guests today, all looking in this direction. I squeezed her hand. What’s the rush? “Willow!” Caleb’s face was already not looking good. In just this short moment, Willow’s forehead was already bleeding. Combined with her tears that were about to fall, she looked very pitiful. She looked back at Caleb, then at me, bit her lip, and continued kowtowing. I leisurely picked up the wine glass from the table beside me. Suddenly, I was a bit curious about how far she could take this act.

That’s right. Willow was acting. Her pitiful appearance was an act, and even her suicide jump in my previous life was an act. On the empty rooftop, I personally heard what she said. She was crying and begging a man at the time: “Brother, I’m an orphan. How else can I make Caleb care about me if I don’t use some tricks?” “Brother, help me again, use another trick!” “Brother, with my background, Caleb’s family won’t agree to me marrying him.” “But Caleb originally promised to marry me, I have to make him feel guilty towards me.” “Brother, just help me one more time!” “Just pretend to jump off the building, and Caleb will remember that he owes me for the rest of his life!” What an actress. She fooled Caleb, fooled me. Fooled all the media. I once asked Caleb why he cared so much about Willow. “I was born as the eldest son of the Foster family, everyone flatters me, praises me.” “They respect me, love me, all because of my family’s money and status.” “Even you, Aria, if I wasn’t the Foster family’s son, would you still marry me?” This question stumped me at the time. If he and I weren’t from families of equal status, we wouldn’t have grown up together, let alone be engaged or married. “Only Willow, only she truly loves me and is willing to sacrifice everything for me.” “Aria, how could I refuse such pure love?” I was almost drawn in by him. As the daughter of the Collins family, I had always been cautious in my words and actions. I had to consider my parents, consider the family. Indeed, I wouldn’t easily sacrifice everything for one person. We all overlooked another possibility. Whether Caleb was drugged or dying from poisoning, it was a good opportunity for Willow. From the beginning, Willow was determined to win his heart.

“Enough!” Caleb shouted. Silence fell all around. Willow trembled, looking up at me timidly. Her intention was very clear. She had ruined my engagement, made me the laughing stock of our circle, and felt guilty about it. If I didn’t speak up, she would never stop. Very well then, continue. I raised an eyebrow and continued sipping the red wine in my glass. Willow gritted her teeth, about to kowtow again. Suddenly, Caleb took two steps forward and swatted the wine glass out of my hand with a loud slap. “Aria, don’t go too far!”

“Aria, is this your magnanimity?” Caleb’s face was cold, shocking everyone around into silence. He pulled Willow up, gently touching her forehead with concern: “Aria, apologize.” “If you apologize now, I’ll pretend nothing happened.” I almost laughed out loud. It was my fault for being too naive back then. After uncovering Willow’s lies, I called Caleb that very day, telling him everything I had seen. I told him to be careful of Willow. The next day, Willow died. Really died. The media all said she committed suicide by jumping off a building because she never married Caleb. Caleb told me: “Luckily you warned me, otherwise I would have been fooled by her.” After that incident, for so many years, I thought he had forgotten about Willow. After all, he hated being deceived the most. It wasn’t until right before my death that I understood everything.

Aria, are you mute?” “Willow didn’t do anything, I’m the one who wants to break off the engagement.” “If you apologize to her, I won’t hold you accountable for the injury on her head.” I looked at Caleb, couldn’t help but curl my lips. It was my fault for being blind, always thinking he was smart. “Are the elders inside?” I turned to ask a passing waiter, walking gracefully towards the inside. Caleb followed closely behind me: “What are you going to do?” “Want to tattle?” I didn’t answer him. Until we reached the door, Caleb was still following closely behind me: “Aria, don’t think that just because you’re the Collins family’s daughter, you can be engaged to me.” “I’ve already promised to marry Willow, I can’t possibly marry you.” I turned back to look at Caleb. As he said, he was born into a position of privilege. His life had been too smooth sailing, causing him to not realize what a powerful wife meant for him. Perhaps this look of mine was too cold, Caleb was stunned for a moment. Caleb’s grandfather happened to look towards the door and asked, “What’s going on with you two, always together?” In front of all the guests, I stepped forward and bowed: “Grandfather, today is my birthday. I want to make a wish to you.” “Caleb and Willow are in love, I envy them.” “I don’t want to ruin their relationship.” “Grandfather, I want to break off the engagement with Caleb.” The room suddenly fell silent.

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Jack’s junior, Emma, got hounded by loan sharks. I tried to stop Jack from getting involved, but Emma was driven to suicide by overdosing on sleeping pills. Jack, unaffected, continued to plan our wedding. Until one day, after getting drunk, he tenderly caressed a photo of Emma and forced me to down a bottle of sleeping pills. He said if it weren’t for my cold, heartless, and selfish attitude, Emma wouldn’t have taken her own life. If I had a second chance, I wouldn’t meddle in their business anymore. I had been reborn—reborn to the day when James Hamilton started borrowing money all over the place for Emily Rose. Emily was his junior, and just like her name suggests, she was gentle and delicate, with features as pretty as a painting. But she had a father addicted to gambling, and over the years, he’d borrowed a huge amount of money from loan sharks. Unable to repay it, he took his own life, leaving behind a daughter who was hounded by creditors day and night. To be fair, James treated me well—everyone knew he loved me like no other. That’s why, in my previous life, when he started borrowing money for Emily, saying she was like a sister to him and he couldn’t bear to see her suffer, I didn’t think much of it. But Emily’s father owed over $8 million. Coming up with that kind of money was nearly impossible. Plus, these loan sharks weren’t exactly good people—you could lose more than just money if you got mixed up with them. Naturally, I didn’t want my soon-to-be-husband getting dragged into this mess, so I gave James all of my savings on the condition that he stop involving himself with Emily’s problems and focus on our wedding. But I never expected Emily would take her own life by overdosing on sleeping pills. When I heard the news, I felt a pang of sorrow. After all, she was just a young woman burdened with a father like that. James seemed sad for a brief moment, but he didn’t say much to me. What I couldn’t have imagined was that he would one day kill me for Emily. Now, as I looked at James standing anxiously before me, his last words to me before I died played on repeat in my mind. “I told you, Emily and I weren’t like that! Why, why couldn’t you just help her? “Your family’s got money, doesn’t it? You rich people never understand this kind of desperation. Clara, you’re selfish and heartless!” “You can watch her die and still expect me to marry someone as cold and cruel as you? “All rich people are scum!” Thinking back, I laughed. My family’s annual income was in the millions, and as their only child, my parents never liked James, who came from a rural background. They wanted me to marry someone more suitable, but I was so in love with James that they cut off my finances, hoping I’d come to my senses. But James resented me because I didn’t ask my family for money to save his precious junior. $8 million—did he really think I’d ruin my life just to help him and his little crush?

Seeing I hadn’t responded, James cupped my face tenderly. The expression I once loved now filled me with disgust. “Babe, you know I just feel sorry for her. She’s been through so much. You know how long we’ve known each other, and Emily really likes you too.” I brushed his hands off and said coldly, “I’m not getting money from my parents anymore because of you. Where would I get the money to give to you?” James didn’t seem to pick up on the sarcasm in my voice. “Babe, you’re their only child. If you explain the situation, your parents will definitely help, won’t they?” I shot back, “Do you like Emily?” For a second, guilt flickered across his eyes, but he quickly hid it. “How could I, babe? Everyone knows you’re the one I love most. Emily’s just my junior, and I feel sorry for her. That’s all. Don’t overthink it.” I stood up, not even glancing his way. “She’s your friend, not mine. I have no obligation to fix her family’s mess.” James frowned. “Clara, aren’t you the kindest, most understanding person? What’s happened to your empathy? Your family’s rich. Your parents are still alive and well, and they’ve got income. But Emily? Her mom’s been gone for years, and she’s stuck with a father like that. You’re acting like Marie Antoinette!” Saying that, he grabbed his debit card and stormed out, heading straight for Emily’s house. I couldn’t believe the audacity—how could James make it seem like all of Emily’s problems were somehow my fault? I quickly packed my bags and sent him a text: We’re done. Then, I blocked him from everything. This time, I wanted to see how long James could survive without my support. Right now, his company was still in its startup phase. In my past life, I knelt before my parents to help him, drank myself sick at business dinners, and gave my all for his company. And what did he do? Did he even love me? During those intimate nights, who was really on his mind—me, or his junior, Emily, who had already taken her own life?

I returned home with my bags, and my parents were visibly shocked. My dad huffed, “If you’re back because of him, you might as well leave. Your mom and I can’t stand the sight of you when it’s about him.” Seeing my parents healthy and alive, I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up. In my last life, after James killed me, how devastated must my parents have been when they found my body? At that thought, I collapsed at the doorway, sobbing uncontrollably. My mom nudged my dad and frowned. “This is your fault! Why do you have to be so harsh? Look at her, she’s crying her heart out.” I buried my face in my mom’s arms and cried until there was nothing left. Regret, bitterness, all of it poured out. “It’s okay, sweetie. What happened? Did James hurt you?” I nodded. “I… I broke up with him. I don’t love him anymore. I want to come home.” The look on my parents’ faces was priceless—they looked like they’d finally been freed from years of torment. Just to make sure, my dad cautiously asked, “You mean, the kind of breakup where you won’t be getting back together?” I smiled through my tears and nodded, then told them the whole story. My parents were furious. “I always knew that James was bad news! Your company, your future, everything—he made you put it all on the line. And now he has the nerve to turn it all back on you?” As my parents raged, I felt a pang of guilt. What had possessed me in my past life to throw my family aside for a man? “Welcome home, sweetheart. Welcome home.” My mom gently patted my back, soothing me the way she used to when I was a child. After such an overwhelming day, I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. The next morning, I woke up to find twenty missed calls from James and a new Instagram post from Emily. In the photo, she was sitting in the passenger seat of James’s car, with him lovingly wiping her tears. The caption read: No matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side. Even though I had braced myself for this, my heart still ached when I saw it. James and I had been together for six years, and people used to joke that if we didn’t end up getting married, they’d stop believing in love. I guess love really does change, doesn’t it? My phone buzzed with a message from Emily: Clara, I’m so sorry about that Instagram post. You know my family’s situation has been really complicated, and Jack… well, he just felt sorry for me, so he stayed with me last night. I heard you broke up with him, but please don’t let it be because of me. I’d feel so guilty. I didn’t respond. Emily’s manipulations were so transparent, I didn’t even want to bother. Posting that picture, then sending me this message—what did she expect me to do? Beg James to come back to me? Or storm into her place and slap her? Emma Miles was as disgusting as James, a two-faced backstabber.

I once accidentally came across some of the messages between James and Emily. “You’re such a great senior, I’m so envious of Clara for finding a boyfriend like you.” “Clara’s so lucky. She has a loving family and a boyfriend who dotes on her. I wish I could have the same.” And, of course, James ate it all up, insisting on treating her like a little sister—bringing her food when she was hungry, water when she was thirsty. When Megan heard that I’d broken up with James, she insisted on dragging me out to celebrate. Her lively energy was contagious, and soon, I found myself in a much better mood. “You have no idea how much I’ve hated James,” Megan said, grinning from ear to ear. “Ever since you started dating him, you’ve barely had time to grab lunch with me. Being blinded by love is how people start losing themselves—and you, my friend, were the poster child for that!” Hearing her ramble on, I pulled her close and nodded eagerly in agreement. “I’m sorry, I really was an idiot, okay? You happy now?” Megan finally nodded with satisfaction and proceeded to drag me into every luxury store in the mall. As I walked through the aisles, it struck me how much I had changed since dating James. I’d stopped being my own person, morphing into someone whose life revolved entirely around him. With his business just taking off, he was always strapped for cash, and I hadn’t visited these beloved stores in ages. “Hey, isn’t that James?” Megan suddenly gasped, her eyes wide. I followed her gaze and spotted James, along with Emily, who was pulling a suitcase behind her. They seemed to be sneaking around, as if they were up to something. I didn’t want anything to do with them anymore, but Megan’s curiosity got the best of her. She insisted we go check it out. We watched as they entered a second-hand luxury bag store, and a suspicion began forming in my mind. “Isn’t that the limited edition bag I got you two years ago for your birthday?” Megan pointed to a high-end bag on display inside. I frowned. I’d left behind some things at James’s place when I packed up, planning to send movers to retrieve them later. I hadn’t expected James to take my bag and sell it for Emily’s sake. Without hesitation, I walked into the store. The moment James saw me, his face went from guilty to gleeful in an instant. “Clara! What a surprise! I’ve been trying to reach you. I was planning to explain everything once I wrapped up a few things—” Whack! I didn’t wait for him to finish. My hand landed square on his cheek, and James stared at me, utterly stunned. Emily quickly stepped forward to tend to his reddened face. “Clara, how could you hit him? He’s—” Whack! Another slap, this time for Emily. “Hitting you was just something I did on impulse,” I said, voice cold. Megan burst out laughing, while the rest of the store turned to watch the spectacle unfold.

“Clara, you crazy woman! Why are you hitting Emily? What did she ever do to you?” James pushed Emily behind him, shielding her like a mother hen. I pointed to the display of bags. “You’re selling my things without permission. Did you even bother to ask me first?” James’s face turned crimson. “I’m just borrowing them. It’s not like I wasn’t going to give them back.” “Borrow my things without asking? Do you realize that’s called theft? And we’ve broken up, James. You don’t get to touch my stuff anymore.” “Clara, how could you be so shallow? They’re just bags! You can always buy more. But you can’t put a price on someone’s life. Are you really okay watching Emily get pushed to the edge?” James was growing more agitated by the second, as if I was the one at fault in all of this. I couldn’t believe how shameless he was. “You’re trying to guilt-trip me? Let me tell you something—I don’t fall for that.” By now, the surrounding crowd was whispering among themselves, phones raised to record. “First of all, we’re no longer together. Second, those are my bags. And lastly, whatever help you want to give your dear Emily is none of my concern. What’s next? If you marry someone and have kids, are you going to ask me to pay their college tuition too?” James was left speechless. He knew he was in the wrong, but with everyone filming, he couldn’t afford to dig himself deeper. Reluctantly, he muttered, “Fine. These three bags—I bought them. I have every right to sell them.” Megan and I were floored. What kind of twisted logic was that? Since when does a boyfriend get to take back gifts after a breakup? “Fine, sell them if you want,” I replied dismissively. I had no interest in prolonging the argument. I turned to the store manager and said, “The rest of the bags are mine. Please assess their resale value and transfer the amount to my account.” It seemed that James knew his company’s finances were stretched thin, so he’d resorted to sneaky tactics like this. Men like him always want everything, don’t they? “Clara, are you really going to break up with me? You’re 28 now. Do you even realize how old that is? If you leave me now, who’s going to want you? Look, I’ll make it simple. Ask your parents for $500,000 to pay off Emily’s debt, and we can work things out.” James said this seriously, as if he was doing me a huge favor. “You’re delusional, James. If anything, you were the one who got lucky with me.” Megan, unable to contain herself any longer, chimed in. “Plus, my brother’s 32, single, and practically a golden bachelor—tall, handsome, and rich. Clara will be way better off without you. Go run back to your little green-tea princess.” With that, Megan grabbed my arm, and we stormed out of the store without looking back.

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After Mom won over Dad, she decided to stay in this world forever. The three of us lived happily together. But then Dad fell in love with his secretary. Mom told Dad, “If you keep seeing her, I’ll leave.” But Dad replied, “You don’t even have a family to go back to. Where can you go?” And when Mom really left, Dad lost his mind. I pushed open the bedroom door. Mom was lying quietly on the bed. It looked like she was sleeping. I walked over and gently called out, “Mom.” But she didn’t open her eyes like she always did, pulling me into her arms. I put my hand near her nose, but there was no breath. I knew then, my mom… was gone.

Mom once told me she was a “Mission Achiever.” She said she completed her task, and that’s why she chose to stay in this world forever. When she said this, her eyes were full of smiles. Back then, I didn’t understand what “Mission Achiever” meant, but I still asked, “Mom, what was your task?” Mom held my little hand and said, “It was to win over your dad, make him fall in love with me, and then have you!” “Erin, you are Mom’s greatest gift.” She gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek and said she never regretted staying. But after that, Mom didn’t smile like that anymore. Because Dad had fallen for his secretary. People said Dad was going to leave Mom and me soon. I got so mad, I chased them away and hugged Mom. At that moment, I thought: Even if Dad didn’t want Mom anymore, it didn’t matter. Because Mom still had Erin. She was my mom, so she would always be with me.

Usually, it was Mom who helped me take off my pajamas, get dressed, and brush my teeth. Mom would say, “You’re ten years old now. You still need me to help you? Aren’t you afraid your friends will laugh?” I would pout and say, “They’d just be jealous that my mom takes such good care of me.” But now that Mom was gone, I had to dress myself. When I came to the table, Ms. May had already made breakfast. Ms. May asked, “Why hasn’t your mom gotten up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s still sleeping.” Ms. May was the nanny Mom hired. She paid her ten years’ worth of wages upfront to take care of me. Before, we never had a nanny. Mom did everything around the house herself. She was a superhero. She’d do all the chores, put me to bed, spend time with Dad, and still find an hour to study her law books in the study. She was preparing for the LSATs. Dad didn’t understand. He would say, “Why are you working so hard when you’re already so busy and tired?” “I’m taking care of you; why not just relax and enjoy life?” But Mom would gently, yet firmly, shake her head and say, “Ryan, this is my dream.” When she said that, her eyes were shining. I thought Mom looked so beautiful at that moment. I imagine Dad thought so too. He reached out, pulling Mom into his arms, nuzzling her neck like a puppy. Mom’s face turned red, and she pushed Dad away, saying, “Erin’s right here.” I knew Mom and Dad were about to play their “game.” They never let me join. I wanted to ask Mom to include me this time. But Dad’s eyes landed on me and said, “Erin, go out.” I got scared and left quietly. Most of the time, Dad treated me well. But when he looked at me that way, I couldn’t help but obey. For a while, things at home were peaceful. Dad even encouraged Mom to study for the LSATs and stayed up late with her. But the day before the exam… Dad took all of Mom’s documents and locked her in the room. It wasn’t until after the exam had passed that Dad came back home with me. Mom looked at Dad, her eyes blazing with anger. “Ryan, do you know I’ve spent a year preparing for this?!” “Do you have any idea how important this is to me?!” Dad walked up to her, ignoring her struggles, and held her tightly in his arms. He softly said, “Merry, I’m sorry, but I did it for our family.” “I just want you to stay home, so I can hold you whenever I want.” “And Erin feels the same way.” When he said that last part, Dad looked at me. I remembered what Dad told me earlier that day. “Once Mom becomes a lawyer, she’ll always be out on business trips, dealing with clients, and she’ll forget all about you.” “And if she meets someone better, she might leave us and never come back.” What Dad said terrified me. I didn’t want Mom to leave. So I grabbed Mom’s hand and said, “Mom, don’t be mad at Dad. I don’t want to lose you either.” Mom looked at me, and it was like all the strength drained from her. She softened in Dad’s arms. Her dry, cracked voice finally broke the silence. “Don’t let this happen again.” Dad smiled, satisfied. Everything went just the way I had hoped. But when I looked into Mom’s eyes, now dimmer than before, I couldn’t shake the feeling… that I had done something terribly wrong.

After breakfast, I went back to the bedroom, shut the door, and quietly looked at Mom. At ten years old, I already understood life and death. But I wasn’t afraid. Mom had told me she was eighteen when she traveled to this world. In her original world, she was still lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes. She said that after she completed her mission, the system gave her two choices. She could return to her old world or stay here. She wanted to go back and see her mom, but she couldn’t bear to leave Dad and baby me behind, so she stayed. I once asked her, “Mom, will you always stay with Erin?” Mom said, “Of course.” I held on to that promise for so long. Now, I just gently tapped her nose and whispered, “Mom, you liar.” Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I knew it couldn’t be Dad. He hadn’t been home in a long time. Outside, I heard Lynn’s voice calling, “Erin, come open the door. I’ll take you home.” “I’ll be your mom now.” I shouted back, “Get out! You’re not my mom. You’re the homewrecker who ruined my family!” After Mom stopped preparing for the LSATs, she devoted herself entirely to taking care of Dad and me. We were so happy. I thought we’d stay that way forever. But then Lynn showed up. She was Dad’s new secretary, always clumsy. Dad started complaining about her more and more. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t just fire her if she annoyed him so much. But then Dad started coming home later and sometimes didn’t come back at all. And Lynn even started showing up in his social media posts. Mom and I saw them together once when we were out shopping. Mom dropped the vase she was holding. Dad heard the crash and looked over. For a split second, he looked panicked. He let go of Lynn’s wrist and ran after us. But Mom grabbed me, covered her mouth, and ran. That night, Mom and Dad had a huge fight. I hid behind the door, listening to Dad explain himself. He said he was just helping Lynn, that she was lonely and needed someone to talk to. He swore nothing was going on, that he only saw her as a sister. But I thought Dad’s words were so fake. There’s a boy in my class, Charlie, who’s always claiming girls are his “sisters,” but everyone knows he’s dating all of them. I saw Mom smirk, her face full of disbelief, and then she told Dad, “If you see her again, I’m leaving.” Dad, who had been calmly explaining, suddenly got angry when he heard that. He shouted, “You don’t even have a family here! Where can you possibly go?” Dad knew exactly what he was saying. He knew Mom had given up her chance to return to her world, the one she came from. She had nowhere else to go. No one to turn to. I remembered once when Dad made Mom mad, and she stormed out, bag in hand. I was so scared, begging Dad to go after her. But Dad just crossed his legs, reading his paper, and said, “She’ll be back. Where else would she go?” That night, Mom came home, her eyes red from crying. She lifted the bags in her hands and said, “Ryan, I got us some food.” She opened the takeout containers. Ah. My favorite crab cakes, and Dad’s favorite chive wontons. I happily ate, but when I looked at Mom, I saw her quietly eating an old bun from the fridge. Suddenly, I didn’t feel like eating anymore. I realized then, if Mom had somewhere else to go, she’d have taken the first flight or train out of here. But her family was in another world. She had no choice but to stay. And Dad knew that. So he made sure she would always stay in line.

Outside, Lynn knocked on the door for a while, but soon the noise faded away. I thought she was gone. But about an hour later, I heard the sound of someone picking the lock. On the security monitor, I saw a strange man. I felt scared. Mom had told me that if there were ever strangers at the door when I was home alone, I should find an adult. Since I couldn’t go to Mom, I ran to the kitchen to find Ms. May. “Ms. May, there’s someone outside, and I don’t know him.” Ms. May swallowed nervously and grabbed a knife, holding my hand as we waited by the door. Soon, the lock clicked, and the door opened. There was Lynn, smiling sweetly as she handed the locksmith twenty bucks. “Thanks, sir.” Ms. May frowned, “Miss Lynn, how could you do this?” Lynn shrugged. “Erin, your dad asked me to come and get you.” “You’ve been avoiding me, so I had no choice.” She reached out to grab me. Without thinking, I bit down hard on her hand. I shouted, “I’m not going with you!” “You can forget it!” Lynn screamed as blood welled up in her hand. I finally let go. Lynn, furious, shoved me to the floor and stormed out. My hand scraped against the floor, and blood started to trickle out. Ms. May rushed to get the first-aid kit. Even though it was Ms. May who bandaged me, I couldn’t help but whisper, “Mom… it hurts.” But my mom couldn’t hear me anymore. Before, she was always there—always with Dad, always with me. But now that she was gone, I finally understood what it meant to miss her. I remembered when I was six, during the holidays, Dad took me and Mom back to the family home for a big family gathering. Dad’s relatives were all there. Uncle John, Aunt Lisa, Uncle Mark, Grandpa, Grandma… So many people, bustling around. But Mom was there alone, just with me. That day, she worked tirelessly, cooking a huge meal all by herself. Everyone else sat down to eat, but she was still in the kitchen, busy. Uncle John and Uncle Mark both complimented Dad, saying, “Ryan, you really married a wonderful, capable woman.” Dad smiled proudly. Mom wiped the flour off her forehead and gave a small smile, keeping her head down. When she finally sat down at the table, most of the food was gone. I told her I was tired, so she only had time to take a few bites before leading me upstairs. As we reached the top of the stairs, Mom paused, turning to look back. Curious, I looked too. Grandpa and Grandma were handing out red envelopes to the younger kids. Uncle John, Uncle Mark, and Dad were discussing work, while the aunts and cousins played cards. They were all one big family. Mom stared for a long time. I tugged on her hand and asked, “Mom, what’s wrong?” She snapped out of her thoughts and looked down at me. Behind her was the loud chatter of people and the warmth of family lights, but her eyes looked so sad, so lonely. “Erin, do you think my mom is doing something right now, too?” It was only then that I realized my mom missed her mom, too.

After Ms. May finished bandaging my hand, she glanced toward Mom’s room and frowned. “It’s almost dark, and your mom still hasn’t woken up?” I replied, “Mom’s really tired. Let her sleep a bit longer.” Ms. May sighed. “It’s been days now, and your dad hasn’t come home to check on her.” My dad hadn’t been home for a long time. He said he was on a business trip, but he had actually gone on vacation with Lynn. Lynn had smugly flaunted those pictures in front of Mom, telling her to divorce Dad and make room for her. I saw the sadness fill Mom’s eyes, turning them red. The place in those photos—Mom had wanted to go there for ages. She had begged Dad to take her, but he was always too busy. Yet somehow, he found the time to take Lynn first. When Mom showed Dad the photos, his face changed immediately. He insisted, “Those pictures are fake, edited. They mean nothing.” But in that moment, Mom’s eyes were full of sorrow. She softly said, “Ryan, what did you promise me when we got married? That you would love only me, that you’d be faithful.” “Otherwise, why would I have stayed here at all?” Dad responded, “Haven’t I treated you well? I’ve given you a multimillion-dollar house, a diamond ring worth hundreds of thousands, designer clothes. Haven’t I given you everything you wanted?” Mom shook her head and whispered, “We just don’t understand each other anymore.” She started throwing Dad’s clothes and shoes out of the house. Dad, humiliated, said he wasn’t coming back. And after that day, he really did move out. Not long after, Lynn’s apartment caught fire, and she moved in with Dad. When Mom found out, she didn’t cry. She just held me gently. Mom said that she had finally understood—people change, love changes, and promises only hold weight when they are first made. But she had realized this too late. There was no going back now. 8 That night, I squeezed my own toothpaste onto my brush, brushed my teeth, and wiped down my small body with a towel. Then I climbed into bed beside Mom and hugged her. Even though her body had already grown stiff, and her skin was cold, as long as she was still lying there, I felt a kind of happiness. Once, I had asked Mom, “Mom, what was your mom like?” My mom didn’t have a dad. Her mom had been her only family back then. Mom said that her mom was very strict with her, always scolding and punishing her when she didn’t do her homework. I furrowed my brow, confused. Why would Mom still miss her mom after that? Sometimes, when Mom had nightmares, she didn’t call out Dad’s name. She cried out, “Mom.” Mom’s voice softened as she told me more. “But when I was sixteen, and I was diagnosed with leukemia, my mom stopped being so hard on me.” “She quit her job, sold our house, and spent every single day taking care of me by my bedside.” “My mom loved me very much.” As she spoke, her voice was tinged with both pride and sadness. I knew then that Mom had never really forgotten about her mom. Because when she came to this world at eighteen, she was still just a young girl herself. On the day Mom discovered Dad had taken Lynn on vacation, she sat by the window and cried quietly. Mom said she shouldn’t have let love cloud her judgment, making her give up everything—even her own mother, who she would never see again. 9 Mom had actually asked Dad for a divorce. A month after Dad moved out, Mom messaged him, asking him to come home. Dad showed up in a black suit, looking more handsome than ever with his slicked-back hair. That day, Mom cooked a whole table full of dishes. Dad seemed pleased with himself and said, “Have you finally made up your mind?” I sat eagerly at the table, watching them, hoping they would make up. But then Mom put down her chopsticks and said, “Ryan, I want a divorce.” I was old enough to know what divorce meant. Divorce meant Dad and Mom would be apart forever, and we would hardly ever be together again. When Dad heard those words, his expression changed instantly. “Merry, you want a divorce over something so small?” “Is this really necessary? I didn’t do anything with Lynn. I still love you. Can’t you be a little more forgiving?” Mom calmly responded, “This isn’t something small to me.” “You broke your promise, you betrayed our love. How can I just overlook that?” Dad started to panic but got angry instead, saying, “And where will you go if we divorce?” “Besides Erin and me, who do you even know here?” Mom’s voice cracked as she replied, “I’ll go out and meet people. If I have no money, I’ll wash dishes and mop floors. I’ll manage to raise Erin on my own.” Dad scoffed and tossed a final remark over his shoulder as he walked out the door, “Go ahead and try.” Over the next few days, Mom sent out countless job applications, but every single one was rejected. Mom didn’t give up and submitted some resumes hundreds, even thousands of times. Finally, someone told her, “Ms. Merry, Ryan Dane has put the word out. No one’s going to hire you.” Soon after, a lawyer arrived at our door with some documents. Mom asked, “What’s this?” The lawyer replied, “This is a comparison of your assets with Mr. Dane’s.” “If you go to court to fight for custody of your daughter, I’m afraid you won’t stand a chance.” He adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry to say, but you don’t have any winning arguments.” Mom’s face went pale. I clung to her clothes but didn’t dare say a word. Soon, Dad’s relatives flooded the house. They surrounded Mom, bombarding her with accusations. “Ryan is such a good catch. You still want to divorce him? You won’t get another chance like this.” “You’re so ungrateful. What does Ryan even see in you?” Mom coldly responded, “Don’t bother trying to convince me. I’m going to divorce him.” Someone softened their tone, trying to appeal to her emotions. “Merry, think about your daughter. She’s so grown up now. How would she feel if her parents divorced?” Mom hesitated. A chorus of voices followed. “That’s right. Children need a stable home.” “Everything should be for the sake of the child. What’s so hard to forgive?” One of them nudged me forward and asked, smiling, “Erin, do you want your parents to get divorced?” “If they do, you’ll be a child without a mom.” I couldn’t hold back my tears. I hugged Mom tightly, terrified, and pleaded, “Mom, please, don’t leave Dad. Don’t leave me.” Mom gazed at me, dazed, her eyes welling up with tears too. “Fine.” It was just a soft whisper, barely audible, like a sigh. Mom gave up. I thought this would be enough to keep her with me forever. But I didn’t understand then—some birds can’t be caged. Their wings sparkle with freedom, and no cage can hold them.

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My wife and her young lover had too much fun at the hotel and accidentally lost our child. Afterward, she claimed to have been bewitched and begged for my forgiveness. I suppressed my hatred, pretended to agree, and secretly devised a plan for revenge. Not long after, my wife smiled at me and said, “Honey, I’m pregnant again! Aren’t you happy?” I nodded, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace, my body trembling uncontrollably. Because, unbeknownst to her, I had quietly undergone a vasectomy right after she had the miscarriage. “David, say something!” My wife, Samantha Williams, sat beside me, shaking my shoulder vigorously. I stared blankly at the report on the table. It showed that she was indeed pregnant. “Honey, I couldn’t keep our last child, and I feel so guilty. But look, the heavens have blessed us with another chance…” She sweetly wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. “Let’s cherish this life together from now on.” When I didn’t respond, she placed my hand on her slightly rounded belly. “Feel it? It’s our baby.” Samantha’s words echoed in my ears, but all I could hear was a deafening roar. My temples throbbed, anger surging through me—I wanted nothing more than to throw her out of the house right then and there. Because, even before she lost the baby, I had already taken the step to prevent her from bearing another man’s child and forcing me into the role of a father. I knew that cheating happens either once or infinitely. Sure enough, my intuition was spot on. I didn’t plan to confront Samantha; instead, I aimed to find that young lover and make them both pay. I drifted back to that fateful day. I had just finished work when I received a call from the hospital. Rushing to the hospital, I found Samantha crying out in pain. She lay on the bed, looking utterly drained. The nurse stifled a laugh, while my friends nearby teased me. “David, have you been that wild? That young lover must have really done a number on her!” My temper flared, and I felt my face flush with humiliation. Just as I was about to leave, Samantha grabbed my hand, weakly apologizing and confessing. “Honey, it was the other person who seduced me. I was just momentarily lost and made a terrible mistake.” “Please, forgive me. I promise we can have more children.” Hearing her words felt like a deep insult. No man wants to wear a metaphorical green hat and continue living in such a farce. I had always treated her well, coming from a poor background; I did everything I could to help her. During holidays, I showered her with precious gifts just to see her smile. Even in arguments, I was the one who would back down and apologize. Everyone said I was her lapdog, humbled to the core. But I didn’t care; I just wanted to build a life together with her. I never expected her to betray me like this. After much thought, I made my decision. I wanted a divorce and for her to leave with nothing, facing the consequences of her actions. At the same time, I wanted to find that young lover and ruin him. To avoid exposing my plan, I pretended to forgive Samantha. From that day forward, she changed her attitude and was exceptionally nice to me. She even insisted on doing my laundry.

After Samantha got pregnant, her requests for money increased. She claimed she wanted to eat better for the baby. Was she expecting me to support her little bastard? Her words enraged me to the point of shaking. But I swallowed my anger for the sake of my ultimate plan. I loosened my fists and said to Samantha as she prepared to leave, “Be back early, okay? Don’t tire yourself out shopping with your girlfriends, and take care of our baby.” A flicker of guilt crossed her face as she nodded and smiled. But the way she was dressed up didn’t seem like she was going to meet friends. Suspicion gnawed at me, so I followed her down the stairs. To my shock, she got into a car with a young guy who looked no older than twenty. As the guy rolled down the window, I caught them kissing passionately. They looked so intimate… My teeth ground together; I wanted to send them both to hell. From his attire and demeanor, I was certain he was a college student. And judging by his car, he wasn’t some rich kid. I suddenly recalled how frequently Samantha had been asking me for money lately. After thinking it through, it became clear—she was using my money to support a young gigolo. How ridiculous! I had to take action. When I got home, I sent the photo of the guy to my friends. After some investigation, I learned he was not just a player; he was a scam artist and a notorious womanizer. He had deceived many girls into bed, recording videos and threatening them—if they didn’t pay up, he would release those videos online. What a despicable person! Why hadn’t he gone to hell yet? I typed furiously to my friends. “Let’s make sure he gets caught up in gambling!” They responded, “Consider it done!” After sending the message, I fell into a deep sleep. In my dreams, I saw Samantha in a white dress, smiling at me, but soon enough, multiple men appeared around her, reaching out their hands to touch her. I wanted to intervene, but she screamed at me. “David, you’re such a clown.” “How does it feel to wear the green hat?” I woke up in a rage, ready to get a drink when Samantha returned. She reeked of perfume mixed with cigarette smoke, holding a bouquet of flowers. She carefully placed the flowers in a vase, completely oblivious to my glaring eyes. “I’m going to shower, honey.” “Be careful, don’t slip,” I replied nonchalantly. After she tossed her bag on the sofa and headed into the bathroom, I rummaged through her bag. Every item inside shocked me. First, there was a set of torn lingerie. Then I saw some… toys. Wow, she was quite the player! In front of everyone, the pure and lovely Samantha had this whole other side. I remembered how she had never been very proactive in bed—unless I begged her, she wouldn’t let me touch her. I thought she was just a modest, reserved person. Yet now, she transformed into a maid to please other men. My anger boiled over when I noticed her phone screen light up. Someone had sent her a message. Unlocking it, I clicked into her WeChat. At the top was a guy’s profile labeled “Baby.” Preparing myself for what I might see, I opened the conversation. “How was it this time? Did I do well enough? Should I ask for more compensation? I worked hard…” “Am I better than that useless husband of yours?” “Honestly, your husband is such an idiot.” I was taken aback, my brow furrowing. Could it be that things were more complicated than I had thought? I scrolled further. “I hope you don’t blame me for the last time causing your miscarriage…” Damn, I had been kept in the dark. This was the guy who had caused her miscarriage. Reading those messages made me question whether the child she lost before had ever been mine. When I flipped to the next page of chat history, I couldn’t sit still. “Now that we’re having this child, you need to take care of it.” “Don’t let it turn out like last time…” Sure enough, neither of those kids were mine! Next, I read Samantha’s reply. “Oh, you’re so annoying. My husband is actually a decent guy, just a bit slow…” “Stupid sister, if you weren’t slow, how could we be together?” The chat abruptly ended there. My eyes burned with rage as I trembled, clicking on the guy’s social media profile. He posted pictures flaunting expensive clothes, shoes, and watches. The caption read, “Thanks, sis! You’re so generous!” In that moment, I wanted to smash my phone. All those years of hard work went to supporting her young lover! My parents even bought her jewelry and skincare products every month, spending so much on her…

After transferring thousands of messages to my phone, I stuffed Samantha’s things into a bag. She emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, nervously touching her neck. “What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself?” I asked, my patience wearing thin. She glanced away, mumbling, “Oh, it’s nothing, just some mosquito bites…” Seeing the red marks on her neck made my teeth grind. Samantha noticed my growing anger and rushed to embrace me. “Honey, I’m so tired from shopping today.” “You don’t care about my feelings at all!” Care? I suppressed my rage, forcing a smile. “Of course, I care! Your husband loves you!” That night, I received a message from a friend. He told me the young lover was a student my sister had once supported. Ryan came from a poor family; his father worked tirelessly just to send him to college. Little did his father know, Ryan had squandered his hard-earned money on women and drinking. What a scoundrel! Before I could respond, my friend added, “Ryan had a fling with your sister…” What? So my sister nearly killed herself over this guy? Before I could ponder further, my friend revealed, “That scumbag filmed your sister in private…” At that moment, I was livid. Clutching my chest, I struggled to breathe. I clenched my fists, determined to destroy Ryan. My precious sister, whom I had adored for eighteen years, had been ruined by this worthless bastard. How dare he! I immediately told my friend, “No matter the cost, I’ll make Ryan pay and ruin him.” The next day, at the crack of dawn, I drove to my sister’s house. She seemed despondent, uninterested in anything, keeping her feelings bottled up. I bought her beautiful clothes and treated her to a nice dinner. Finally, she opened up in my arms. Ever since Ryan filmed her, she had been giving him a thousand dollars a month as hush money. As she spoke, her pain deepened, tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes red like a rabbit’s. As her brother, I felt an immense guilt. That night, I arranged for Ryan to be ambushed in an alley. They threw a black bag over his head and silenced him with a sock. I was the first to strike, and my friends joined in. Until someone pulled me back, urging me not to escalate things, I finally eased my grip. Next, I opened his phone, and the first thing I saw was a video of Samantha. Her face flashed in the footage, and I immediately recognized the large gold bracelet I had bought her just days ago. Samantha was incredibly eager in the video, her expression one of pure enjoyment. Two words came to mind. Filthy! Sordid! I had never realized she could be so open-minded. The demure lady in public was nothing but a wanton in private. I secretly transferred the video to my phone as a backup. Now, I had more than enough evidence. Next, I spent a few minutes deleting all videos of other girls. One friend couldn’t stand this scum and spat on Ryan, yelling, “Didn’t your mom teach you to respect women?” “What a disgrace! And you call yourself a college student? You’re more like a beast.”

When I got home, I found Samantha looking anxious, grabbing her bag and ready to leave. I grabbed her hand and forced a smile. “Honey, it’s late. Where are you going?” She swallowed hard and quickly said, “A friend is sick; I need to go see him.” “Oh? Let me take you.” She shook her head, looking nervous. “It’s fine, honey. You worked all day and need to rest. I’ll take a cab.” Samantha hurriedly released my hand and dashed out the door. I chuckled. Looks like Ryan had gotten himself into deep trouble. I smirked. The real show was just beginning! With my friends’ help, Ryan had ended up deep in gambling debt. When faced with the massive bill, he immediately thought of Samantha. I occasionally caught glimpses of his messages to her. “Help me save my life, sis.” “Isn’t your rich husband there to help pay off my debts?” “Or better yet, why not just kill him and inherit everything?” “After all, you hate him touching you and said he looks like a gorilla. You wouldn’t mind if he just disappeared, would you?” The rest was Samantha’s reply. “No way! I’d go to jail. Let me ask him for some money first…” Well, I didn’t expect Samantha to refuse Ryan’s request out of fear of prison. It seemed she didn’t care about the bond we shared over the years. Fine, since you both lack empathy, I won’t show mercy. Sure enough, when I got home from work, Samantha had prepared a feast. As soon as I walked in, she rushed to take my bag, bending down to help me with my shoes. Feigning concern, I helped her up. “Be careful; don’t hurt our baby.” “Okay, honey! I made your favorite dish, come and see!” At the dinner table, she subtly mentioned her financial struggles, but I ignored her, focused on my meal. After a while, she finally lost her temper and slammed her chopsticks down in front of me. Startled, I nearly stood up to slap her. But reason won over impulse, and I bit my lip, asking, “Have you lost your mind, Samantha?” She became even angrier, clearly not expecting me to raise my voice. After all this time, I had rarely shown anger toward her. “David, you actually yelled at me?” Her eyes were red with fury as she stood to confront me. “What have you given me all these years? Other husbands are handsome and wealthy, and what about you?” “I should have listened to my parents and not married you!” Ha! You didn’t want to marry me, and I regret marrying you. If it weren’t for my parents introducing us as a good match, I wouldn’t have looked at you twice. It’s not that I don’t have money; it’s that you’re just too greedy. But I kept those thoughts to myself; this wasn’t the time to burn bridges. Yet the more Samantha spoke, the more she trampled my dignity. “David, do you even realize how disgusting you are? Every time you touch me, I want to vomit.” “And you? You’re useless in bed!” That was it; she had completely enraged me. I believe no man would allow such insults, especially from his wife. “Samantha, have you forgotten the disgusting things you’ve done?” “What right do you have to shout here, you homewrecker?”

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It was midnight when my childhood friend, who had been missing for a year, sent me a message. [I want to get married] I hastily replied: Go ahead. The next day, I received a staggering sum of $1 million. Note: Wedding gift. Olivia James was my childhood friend. Her dad was in business while mine was in medicine. Some twist of fate brought us together. From holding hands crossing the street in kindergarten, to being deskmates for six years in elementary school, and sitting in front and back rows for three years in middle school. I thought I’d finally escape her in high school, but who knew we’d end up sharing the same taxi on registration day. I frowned: “Miss James, did all your family’s drivers die or something?” She yawned: “I’m just going the same way.” Yeah right, I thought. But it turned out to be true – she entered the International Baccalaureate program at our school.

Being in the same school was one thing, but at least she’d go abroad for college. That’s what I thought, until one day at lunch when I ran into her again. “Nathan, which building is your class in?” she asked softly, her voice lilting. I grabbed my friend: “Let’s go.” Her friend chimed in: “You’re ignoring a pretty girl who’s trying to talk to you?” I shot her a cold look: “You go away too.” … From then on, I decided never to eat in the cafeteria again. Surely I wouldn’t see her anymore now, right? I was happily doing homework in my dorm when my roommate sent me a message. Mike: Bro, what should I do?! Me: What’s up? Mike: I think I’ve fallen for that pretty girl we met in the cafeteria today! Mike: Nathan, help me pursue her, please~ Me: Add an S. SOS!

For the first time at school, I stayed up all night, unable to figure out what part of Mike’s brain had malfunctioned. Okay, I admit, the only thing I agreed with was that Olivia was pretty. Skipping evening study hall, Mike and I hid in the bushes by the basketball court to spy on her. “If you like her, just go for it. Why all this sneaking around?” I asked. “Who’s sneaking around?” I looked down and made eye contact with a bug in the bushes. It said: Good evening. I said: Ahh, get lost! Then something even more terrifying than the bug appeared. “Why is it you two again?” Olivia’s best friend spoke up. I gritted my teeth: “Can’t we admire the moon in peace?” Thunder rumbled in the overcast sky, completely out of place. Olivia snickered: “More like admiring the lightning.” I came to a conclusion. Mike must not have a brain at all to like Olivia. No, anyone who likes Olivia must not have a brain! That night back in the dorm, I ranted under my covers. Then deleted it all. I left one post on the campus forum: Whoever likes Olivia James, I’ll laugh at them for life. The day after I posted that, I experienced both cyberbullying and real-life bullying. During class, a note fell on my face out of nowhere. It was covered in different handwriting. The gist was: Who’s the person with the username “Thor’s Hammer”? I pursed my lips and quietly destroyed the evidence.

My identity was exposed that afternoon. Now the whole school knew that Nathan Scott from Class 5 was a great critic. And I, I apologized to my buddy. Under the threat of complete alienation and another condition. I agreed to help him deliver a love letter to Olivia. For a second, I wished I could die on the way to the IB building. “Please give this to Olivia James in your class.” “Who?” That girl pretended not to hear. “Olivia James,” I repeated slowly. “Oh,” she flicked water off her hands, “she’s behind you.” “…” She raised an eyebrow and pulled the pink envelope from my hand, laughing for a while. “Thor, you even write love letters?” “Can’t you see clearly, I didn’t write this.” Olivia just glanced down at it and said: “I don’t believe you.” This idiot brushed past me. I turned and yelled after her: “Olivia James, what’s wrong with you?” Her friend passed by me, leaning in to whisper: “You’re surrounded by pink bubbles.” “…” I’ll give you a pink snot bubble. … This incident spread like wildfire through the school. Everyone I passed in the halls was talking about: Thor from Class 5 wrote a love letter to the school beauty. I scrolled through the campus forum posts, unfazed. A message popped up that instantly shattered my calm. From my homeroom teacher: Have your dad come to school tomorrow. I was speechless, nearly replying: Don’t you have a dad? Why do you need mine?

I’d always been a top student, even in high school. I’d cultivated an image of the aloof academic genius. In my life, I’d never hit anyone except Olivia. Getting my parents called in was a first. I later heard my dad had canceled a whole morning of surgeries to rush to school. I just kept my head down, not daring to speak. It was so unfair. A crowd had gathered outside the office, including that troublemaker Olivia. The homeroom teacher lectured my dad about the dangers of puppy love for nearly an hour, from 7:30 to 8:30. When she finally finished, I got up to leave, but met my dad’s gloomy face. It felt like lightning struck me. Sure enough, my dad called me to the car. “I’m really not dating anyone,” I weakly explained. He let out a long sigh. “Nathan, Dad will allow you to date as long as your grades don’t slip.” I looked at him in disbelief as he added: “But it can’t be Olivia James.” I was about to ask why when Dad cut me off. “Your mom and I have to go on a business trip this month, so you’ll have to stay in the dorm for now.” “But…” “No buts, it’s already decided. Go back to class now.” Dad could be so forceful sometimes. After getting out of the car, I didn’t return to the classroom. Today was a review day, all self-study. I hadn’t taken the love letter thing too seriously, and I didn’t really care even if it was real puppy love. What bothered me was how they just dumped me at school without a word. I sat down on the stadium steps. They said I was a good kid, so they indulged me. They said I was a good kid, so I could live independently. They said I was a good kid, so I could be left behind. But even good kids want lots and lots of love. I just sat there spacing out, trying to forget everything by emptying my mind. Until a figure appeared in front of me. “Why aren’t you in class?” she asked. I didn’t answer. She stood there for a moment, then apologized. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know this would blow up so much. I’ll explain on the forum and to your dad…” “What did your dad say to you?” She crouched down and poked my head. “Are you really mad?” I finally looked up to meet her gaze, only then feeling tears run down my cheeks. She seemed to freeze for a moment, then reached out to wipe the tears from my face. “I said I’d fix it, what are you crying for?” I lowered my head and choked out: “It’s nothing, my stomach just hurts.” … At the breakfast shop, Olivia rested her chin on her hand, watching me. “It wasn’t that simple, was it?” I bit the straw, playing dumb. “What wasn’t simple?” “When you broke your arm as a kid and went to the hospital, that little girl next to you fainted from crying, but you didn’t shed a single tear.” I froze for a moment and looked up. For a second I was sure she froze too. Until a napkin brushed across my lips. I stared at her wide-eyed, and her hand stopped. “Or do you want to wipe it yourself?” “…” “My parents are going out of town this month.” “And?” “And what?! Can I stay at your place or something?” She nodded. “It’s settled then.” She got up and grabbed her school jacket, leaving. I slapped the table and stood up. Damn, Olivia didn’t pay!

Mike has inexplicably gotten into social media lately. His first sponsored post was for some hickey-making device. Of course, not the “hickey” you grow in a garden. This was the fifth time today he’d peeked down at me from his top bunk. “Nathan, you have the best collarbones in the whole dorm. Let me take a photo?” “No way.” “I’ll split the ad money with you.” “Deal.” The money wasn’t really important, I just wanted to help a friend out. After taking the photos, I didn’t pay much attention to that thing. I didn’t even think about packing my bags. I thought she was just joking that day to get out of paying. But on Friday afternoon, I was caught off guard and dragged into a private car. Damn, I thought I was being kidnapped for a second. Olivia entered and casually tossed her keys on the table. I walked right in like I owned the place. “I knew your family wouldn’t be home either.” The person looking down nearby chuckled. “Did you ever consider this might be my own house?” Sorry, poverty limited my imagination. “…You don’t usually come back, so you just let an empty house collect dust?” She seemed to move closer. “What else, Mr. Scott? Is your name on the deed or something?” “If you want to give me a free mansion, I wouldn’t mind.” I shot back at her. “Where’s the bathroom? I need a shower.” … In less than five minutes, I suddenly felt like I wouldn’t be able to use this house even if she gave it to me. “How do you adjust the water temperature in your bathroom?” “There’s a remote in the waterproof bag hanging on the side.” I hadn’t even found the remote when Olivia came in. “I threw out the instructions. Left is hot, right is cold, bottom row controls the heat settings.” Her clear voice echoed in the bathroom. The cool white bathroom light fell on her profile, and under the faint shadows of her eyelashes, I saw those almond eyes staring at me. I was sure I was fully clothed. But why was she looking at me? No, she wasn’t staring at my face. But at… I looked down at that spot. It hadn’t faded after three days. This hickey-maker was definitely worth recommending. She looked at me questioningly. I returned the same questioning look. The atmosphere was tense for a second. Until Olivia walked out of the bathroom without a word. Warm air filled my nostrils. Why had I forgotten to breathe? No, I’d seen her in all states before, why get nervous now? … After leisurely washing away a week’s fatigue, I left the bathroom. Olivia sat on the couch with her arms crossed, watching TV. From when I came out to when I walked over, it took five seconds. And she stared at me for those five seconds. “Olivia, do I look like a soccer ball or something?” She didn’t answer my question. Instead, she raised her hand and turned off the TV. Okay, I’d never seen her with such a serious expression before. “Nathan, you can’t date other girls.” I opened my mouth to argue, but thought it over and realized something was off. If I don’t date girls, am I supposed to date guys? Channeling my dad’s righteous speech from this morning, I said: “My dad allows me to date, it’s just…” “That’s not allowed either. I don’t allow it.” I stopped talking and just looked at her with a “are you a sore loser” expression. After a long moment, I got up to leave. “Nathan, aren’t you going to tell me who it is?” I gave her a cold shoulder: “Guess if you want. No prize though.” … The next day I was woken up by Mike’s call. I looked at the clock. What the hell, bro, it’s only 7 AM! “Give me one good reason why you’re bothering me this early.” He shouted “Nathan” and then started barking excitedly. I was sure he’d lost his mind, so I put down the phone and pulled the covers back over me. Until I heard “Olivia James” among his stream of “Ahhh”s, which made me open my eyes. “What did you say?” “I said Olivia James just added me on Snapchat!!” “Did she see my love letter and fall for me?! Is she going to confess to me? Is she…” “No, she must be out of her mind.” I sat up cross-legged and put him on speaker, about to say something. When the person who’d been leaning on my doorframe for who knows how long entered my line of sight. “Who’s out of their mind?” she asked. If I had another chance, I’d definitely remember to lock the door. The voice on the other end clearly paused: “Nathan, why is there a girl’s voice there?” My gaze didn’t leave Olivia’s cold face. “No one, just my childhood friend.” “Alright then Nathan, I gotta go. If we end up together, you’ll be the MVP!” Click- “Why did you add Mike on Snapchat?” She said coldly: “Guess if you want. No prize.” I raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You’re not actually into him, are you?” “Modern civilized high school students don’t date, unlike some people.” I chuckled twice. “Then why are you harassing him?” “I…” “You’re not crushing on someone in our class, are you?” She laughed angrily, looking like she wanted to say “How could that be?” or “I said I’m not dating.” But she just stared at me for two seconds. “Yes, I like someone in your class.” That sentence fried my brain. We’d been split into arts and science classes after the first week of school. We were an all-science class with only ten guys. Excluding Mike, Olivia had barely even seen the others. Could it be… “I respect your choice.” “?” “Don’t worry about what society thinks. We’re in an open-minded era now.” She looked at me like I was an idiot and said “Nathan, you really have brain damage” before turning to leave. After she left, Mike sent me a screenshot. It was a message Olivia had sent him. [Are there any girls prettier than me in your class?]

For some reason, after finding out Olivia’s secret, I didn’t run into her at school for a while. Rich people play more openly, I guess that’s normal. The next time I saw Olivia was around New Year’s. We weren’t really relatives, but our families always visited each other for the holidays. But this time we weren’t the only guests. The adults said they needed to discuss high-level matters and shooed me to Olivia’s room. When I went in, the room was eerily quiet. Something wasn’t right. Usually when I came over, she’d be gaming or watching anime. I checked the time. It was only 10 PM, surely she wasn’t asleep this early? I knocked twice: “I’m coming in.” As soon as I said that, a voice from inside hit me like a ton of bricks. I heard Olivia curse under her breath, then get up from her gaming chair. “I just got this little ancestor to fall asleep…” My hand was still on the doorknob as my gaze followed Olivia to the baby on the bed. “Why is he sleeping in your room?” “How should I know? He started crying as soon as I walked in.” Olivia picked up the baby, imitating an adult as she rested the baby’s head on her shoulder. I walked over and looked at the baby behind her. “Aww, such a good baby.” I reached out and gently pinched the baby’s cheek. Olivia’s body suddenly stiffened. “Does this baby really have to cry?” She seemed to be asking me. “What else would you call a baby? What did your mom call you when you were little? Livvy? Liv? Or Baby Liv?” “You… you call your child ‘baby’, so what do you call your wife?” “We’ll figure that out later.” Olivia turned to face me, holding the baby: “Then what do you call your girlfriend now?” My hand froze in mid-air, then dropped. “I’ve been single for 16 years, where would I get a girlfriend?” She stared at me intently, looking a bit angry. “Oh, you mean this!” I belatedly remembered the hickey. I pulled down my shirt a bit: “It’s gone, see?” “What good is it being gone? Can’t you get another one?” “Tch, you want to give me one?” “Go ask your girlfriend to give you one.” She gently laid the baby back on the bed and pulled up the covers. What a good wife and mother. “I’m really not dating anyone. If I were to date, it’d be with physics.” She turned her head, her face in shadow: “Who is it?” “…” “What about you? Which guy in our class do you like?” I couldn’t see Olivia’s expression, but I felt like her face darkened. “I’m not gay!” Great, with that shout, the baby started crying again. Later it seemed like Olivia really did start dating someone. According to the campus forum, not only was Olivia the school beauty, her grades were also top of the IB program. No wonder she had so many followers. She usually acted completely uninterested in guys. I guess that’s why she got labeled as aloof, which was quite the contrast. The first time I heard Olivia had a boyfriend was from a post on the campus forum in our second year. The photo showed Olivia walking with a guy, just their backs, but they were extremely close. She’s dating? I don’t believe it. I lay in bed, eating melon seeds in the comments section.

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After my parents’ divorce, I stayed with my mom. She tricked me into giving her all my savings—three hundred thousand dollars—to buy a house for my cousin. Then my cousin stabbed me to death. When my mom found my body, she comforted him, saying, “Don’t worry, your aunt will write a forgiveness letter for you.” When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the time just before my parents’ divorce. My mom’s eyes were steady as she asked, “Jessica, who are you staying with?” I was pushed out of endless darkness. When I opened my eyes, there was my furious mom, and my dad quietly smoking a cigarette. Uncle Steve was yelling, “What’s yours is my sister’s, and what’s my sister’s is mine! If the house is mine, why shouldn’t my son be allowed to live in it?” That familiar scene… I had been reborn into my senior year. Before I could fully grasp the situation, my mom’s finger was practically in my face. “Jessica, tell me, isn’t it important for your cousin to start middle school? Shouldn’t you move into the dorms to give him your room?” In my last life, my mom constantly pitted me against my dad. I grew distant from him because of her manipulation. Mom insisted that I give up my room to Kyle during my senior year, and though my dad disagreed, I gave in, hoping for her approval. Soon, Uncle Steve moved in under the pretense of looking after Kyle. Dad couldn’t take it anymore and filed for divorce. I was given over to my mom’s custody, and that’s when my nightmare began. Seeing that I wasn’t responding, Mom shoved me again, and I stumbled to the floor. Dad quickly tossed his cigarette aside and rushed over to check on me. But Mom kept shouting, “Why aren’t you saying anything, you useless girl? Just standing there like an idiot?” Dad, a quiet and honest man, raised his voice unexpectedly. “What are you yelling for? Didn’t you see you just knocked her over?” Kyle, my cousin, was sprawled on the couch, lazily playing video games. He didn’t even look up when he heard Dad’s voice, just scoffed, “Can you all keep it down? I can’t hear my teammates.” I sat there on the floor, tears spilling down my cheeks as I looked at my dad’s not-yet-aged face. In my last life, Mom had indeed written that forgiveness letter for Kyle, and without Dad knowing, she had me cremated quickly. When Dad finally learned, his hair turned white overnight. He charged at Kyle in a blind rage, but Kyle easily shoved him down the stairs. My soul hovered above, trying desperately to hold onto Dad, but I couldn’t touch him. I could only hear his final words, “It’s all my fault.” Dad thought I was crying from the fall and reached for a tissue to wipe my tears. But Mom grabbed the box and threw it on the floor. “What are you crying about? You’re the older sister; you should let your brother have his way. Besides, Kyle’s struggling in school, and it’s all your fault!” Dad, red-faced with anger, stood up, ready to argue with her. I had finally come to my senses and pulled on his arm. Dad thought I was going to stop him, just like before, and his eyes filled with disappointment. Mom, on the other hand, looked triumphant. “Bill Hay, you’re just as worthless as always. No matter what, your daughter will always side with her mother…” Smack! Mom didn’t get to finish her sentence. She clutched her cheek, screaming, “Jessica Hay, you dare hit your own mother? I’ll kill you today!” Uncle Steve started to step forward, ready to hit me as well. But before his hand could get any closer, Dad kicked him back. “If anyone lays a hand on my daughter, I’ll fight them with everything I’ve got!”

Mom and Uncle Steve were stunned into silence by Dad’s sudden fierceness. I wiped my tears away and stared them both down. “So, it’s crucial for Kyle to start middle school, but my senior year doesn’t matter?” Mom looked at me, completely shocked. She had never imagined her daughter—who had always bent over backward for her affection—would ever stand up to her. Uncle Steve recovered first and sneered at me. “You, a worthless brat, sitting in that room, studying for what? Your brother’s going to get into a good college someday and have a bright future. He’ll be able to help you out, too.” I turned to him, my voice cold. “Kyle? He’s a lazy bum who can only play video games. What makes you think he’ll help me? I’d be lucky if he doesn’t turn out like you—leeches living off others.” In my last life, I had been a top student. In every exam, I was always in the top ten of my class at our prestigious high school. But to my mom, no matter how high my scores were, they could never compare to Kyle calling her “Aunt.” Back then, I gave up my room, not because I wanted to, but because I was desperate to please my mom, to get more of her attention. But moving to the dorms made me sick constantly, and my grades plummeted. In the end, I barely got into a mediocre college. When the SAT results came in, Mom and Uncle Steve sneered at me, calling me a failure. They praised Kyle for “waking up late” but said he’d surely surpass me in the future. I glared at Mom with all my resolve. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. Mom shifted uncomfortably under my gaze, taking a step back. “Jessica, are you out of your mind? You hit me, and now you’re looking at me like that?” I straightened my back. “If you think I’m giving up my room, you’re dreaming.” “You might as well pack up your stuff and take that lazy cousin of mine back to Ohio. Maybe it’s time he learned how to work a farm.” When Mom realized I wasn’t budging, her tone softened, “I was just upset, Jessica. Think about it, if you hadn’t dropped Kyle when he was a baby, he would’ve developed faster. You owe him.” Uncle Steve, still on the floor from Dad’s kick, chimed in, “Yeah, if it weren’t for you, Kyle would’ve been top of his class by now.” They were talking about something that had happened when Kyle was just a baby. One New Year’s Eve, Uncle Steve’s family had left me, a six-year-old, in charge of baby Kyle while they played cards. Kyle cried non-stop, and when I went to get help, Uncle Steve shooed me away, annoyed. In desperation, I tried to carry Kyle over to the card table, but I wasn’t strong enough. I accidentally dropped him. He cried louder, and I froze in panic until Mom stormed in, kicked me aside, and rushed Kyle to the hospital. All she left me with was a cold threat: “If anything happens to your brother, I’ll kill you.” They took Kyle from the local clinic to County General, then to Downtown Memorial Hospital, and finally to State Hospital. Every doctor assured them that Kyle was perfectly healthy, with not a single scratch on him. But after that day, they blamed everything on that fall. Kyle’s late walking? My fault. Bad grades? My fault. Playing video games all day? Also my fault. Because of that fall, I had to give Kyle my snacks, my toys, and even my allowance. But while they were busy fussing over Kyle, it was Dad who picked me up off the floor, my head bleeding from where Mom had kicked me. How ridiculous. I glanced coldly at Kyle, who had his headphones in and was still playing video games, oblivious to everything around him. I laughed bitterly. “All those doctors said Kyle was fine. What, are you two smarter than they are?” In the past, every time I refused to give Kyle something, they’d bring up that fall to guilt me into giving in. This was the first time I’d ever questioned them like this. Mom’s face turned red, then pale, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s got internal injuries. The doctors just couldn’t find them.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “I was six years old, barely four feet tall. How could I have dropped a swaddled baby hard enough to give him internal injuries?” “What am I, a martial arts master?” Dad chuckled along with me, ruffling my hair. “My daughter’s right. She’s keeping her room. If you can’t deal with that, then get out.” Then I picked up Uncle Steve’s bags and tossed them out the door. “Goodbye.”

Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Uncle Steve glared at me and muttered to my mom, “This is the daughter you raised?” He grabbed Kyle, who was still clutching his controller, and made as if to leave. Mom panicked, grabbing Kyle’s sleeve to stop him. But Kyle just shook her off. “If you were a decent sister, Dad wouldn’t have to deal with this. Can’t you do anything right?” Mom was in a frenzy. She rushed at me and slapped me hard across the face. “You ungrateful brat! How dare you not make room for your brother? I’ll beat the disobedience out of you!” The force of the blow left my head ringing. My vision blurred, and in that moment, Mom’s furious face morphed into the same expression she had after I died, when she was comforting Kyle after he had stabbed me. The two images overlapped, searing into my mind. My heart ached like a thousand needles had pierced through it. Trembling, I asked, “Do you even remember that you’re my mother?” Mom froze for a second, but quickly recovered, scoffing at me. “If you apologize to your uncle and brother right now, and move their things back into the house, I might still accept you as my daughter.” “But if you don’t… you won’t have a mother anymore.” That was the same tactic she’d used to manipulate me in my past life—threatening to disown me unless I obeyed her every demand. But now? I had already died once. There was no fear left in me. I let out a bitter laugh and said, “Fine.” Mom looked relieved, her tone softening. She pointed toward the door. “Then go fetch their luggage. And Bill, don’t just stand there—call her school and arrange for dorm housing.” Dad didn’t move. Neither did I. I looked her straight in the eye and said, “When I said ‘fine,’ I meant it. I’m perfectly fine without a mother like you.” Mom’s face contorted in disbelief. “What did you just say?” “I said, it’s good to be without a mother like you,” I repeated, my voice steady. “You can’t be serious! You’ve always been the one who listens to me, the one who loves me the most! What’s gotten into you today?” Mom’s voice was shaking with rage, but there was a flicker of doubt behind her eyes. I yanked my arm out of her reach as she tried to touch my forehead, as if checking whether I was sick. “For years, I craved your approval, your love, and I made countless sacrifices hoping for a shred of affection in return. But today, you’ve crossed the line. You’re asking me, a senior about to take the SATs, to give up my room to the same cousin who’s bullied me all my life.” “I finally see it clearly now. Ever since Kyle was born, you’ve had no room in your heart for me. So, I don’t need you either.” For a brief moment, I saw something in her eyes—maybe guilt, maybe sadness. But before she could say anything, Uncle Steve interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Come on, Susan, they’re just putting on a show to guilt-trip us. How come I never realized you were this crafty?” “If you don’t want us living here, just say so. I’ve seen through you, Susan Hay.” He grabbed Kyle’s arm, hoisting him to his feet. Kyle, annoyed that his gaming session had been interrupted, stood up with a huff. Uncle Steve gathered their things, ready to leave. Mom’s fleeting sadness turned to anger again as she ran after them, but not before shooting me a final threat: “If your cousin is upset, I’ll come back and make you pay for it, Jessica.” I watched them leave without a word, feeling strangely at peace. Dad looked at me hesitantly, unsure of what to say. He finally broke the silence with a quiet voice, “Do you want to rest in your room for a bit?” I shook my head, my voice thick with emotion. “Dad, I’m sorry… for everything.” I had a million thoughts racing through my mind, but before I could say more, Dad cut me off gently, “You don’t need to apologize to me, Jessica. I’m your dad.” Tears welled up again, and I threw myself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. I cried for all the years I had wasted trying to earn my mother’s love, for how blind I had been, for how I’d let them manipulate me. The weight of it all finally lifted, and I cried until I had nothing left. When the tears finally stopped, Dad quietly went to the kitchen to get me some hot water. But the front door wasn’t locked, and before he could come back, Mom burst through it, her face a mask of rage. In her hand was a large kitchen knife, gleaming menacingly as she stormed toward me. “Jessica Hay, you worthless brat! You drove away your brother! Now I’ll drive you out of this world!”

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She was violated by her stepbrother, and the unbearable weight of it led her to self-harm until there wasn’t an inch of her body left untouched. She said, as long as I send her stepbrother to accompany her in the afterlife, she would allow me to continue using her body. When I saw her stepfather, I decided to send them both to the afterlife to be with her. It felt like someone was holding me underwater, my lungs running out of air, leaving me unable to breathe. A man’s soft, low voice echoed in my ears, “Chloe Watson, you better recognize who your master is.” Suddenly, I was yanked up by the collar, pulled out of the bathtub, fresh oxygen flooding my chest as I gasped for air. Water cascaded over my head, blurring my vision. I wiped my face and saw the one who had grabbed me: a boy with narrow, shadowed eyes and a tense jawline. He snickered. “Chloe Watson, are you trying to drown yourself?” Who’s Chloe Watson? I’m Olivia Dawner. I tried to speak, but my throat was so dry I couldn’t make a sound. The boy gave me a disgusted look and tossed me back into the tub. I glanced around. I was supposed to be on a plane, not in some bathroom I’d never seen before. I looked in the mirror at the person staring back at me—pale skin, dark circles under the eyes from what seemed like chronic lack of sleep. After a few moments, I couldn’t stand the sight anymore. My clothes were stuck to my body, and I wanted to change into something dry. But when I took off my clothes, I froze in shock. This body was covered in bruises and thin scars running up and down the arms. The poor girl must have been in so much mental anguish to do this to herself. As I changed into clean clothes, I began to realize—I had reincarnated, and now I was in someone else’s body. Stepping out of the bathroom, I scanned the room. Girls like this, so sensitive, must keep a diary of their inner turmoil. I started searching for it when suddenly, a voice from behind said, “It’s in the second drawer on the left, the one with the embossed cover.” “Oh, thanks,” I responded instinctively, then immediately felt something was off. My spine stiffened, and I turned toward the voice.

A girl, who looked exactly like the body I was now in, was leaning against the wall, staring at me with a strange expression. I screamed. I’m not afraid of anything, but I’m terrified of ghosts. For a second, I thought I was about to have a heart attack. The ghost rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Stop screaming!” I went silent immediately. “I didn’t think you’d be such a scaredy-cat,” she said, stepping closer. I was so frightened I fell to the floor, which made her look even more puzzled. “I heard you used to be tough, not afraid of anyone. Was that just a rumor?” “But I’m scared of ghosts…” She leaned down, trying to help me up, but as soon as she touched me, her hand passed right through my body, which only freaked me out more. I was so terrified I felt physically ill—who could understand? I scrambled back until I hit the edge of the desk, tears filling my eyes. “I didn’t mean to take your body! I have no idea what happened. I was dead, but then…” I hiccuped through my sobs. “I woke up in your body…” “Must’ve been a glitch in the afterlife’s system,” I rambled, more and more anxious. She was probably here to reclaim her body. Chloe Watson frowned at me. “You don’t sound like how The Reaper described you. He said you were fearless, that even the most dangerous people respected you.” I was nearly sobbing now, convinced the ghost was going to take my life. I hadn’t stopped being afraid of ghosts just because I’d died once. Chloe, clearly irritated, snapped, “Stop crying!” Her sharp tone immediately choked off my tears. She gave me a look. “I’ve never seen anyone as cowardly as you.” I stammered, “W-what do you want?”

Chloe tilted her head. “I need you to do something for me.” I asked cautiously, “Why me?” “You’re the smartest of everyone who died around the same time as me. The Reaper said I could only choose someone from that group.” Of course, I’m smart. No wonder she picked me. “Did the Reaper say I could go back to my own body?” Chloe shook her head. “You died in a plane crash. The wreckage was so bad it took a man named Ethan Clint and his team a long time to find your remains.” “Ethan Clint?” Chloe’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Is he your boyfriend?” I scowled and whispered, “No, he’s the guy you mentioned earlier—the one everyone treats with respect.” I wanted to ask about her scars and why she’d taken her life, but before I could speak, she changed the subject again, gossiping. “I heard someone traded twenty years of their life to bring you back,” she said, resting her head on her hand. “Do you know who?” I shook my head. “Do you?” She also shook her head. “You’re lucky. Someone gave up a lot for you.” I stood there, frozen. I didn’t have anyone close enough to do that. Who could possibly make such a huge sacrifice for me? Suddenly, my stomach growled loudly, and Chloe laughed. “The kitchen’s downstairs.” I headed down and grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge. Chloe floated behind me and motioned for me to look at the staircase. I glanced up and saw a boy standing there in pajamas. Chloe pointed at him. “Send Ricky Shane to the afterlife to be with me, and you can keep this body.” So, the boy who had grabbed me earlier was Ricky Shane. He stood still at the top of the stairs, his gaze icy and piercing. After a moment of silence, I broke eye contact and continued drinking my milk. Ricky turned and went back upstairs. I wiped my nose and tried to reason with Chloe. “Murder’s illegal. Even if I get your body, I’ll end up spending my life in prison. And prison uniforms are ugly—they don’t suit me.” Chloe’s lashes trembled. “He did this to me,” she whispered. “He violated me.” My grip on the milk carton tightened. She added softly, “Many times.”

From Chloe’s story, I pieced together the reasons for her suicide. Her father had died when she was young, and she lived with her mother, who remarried into the Shane family. Ricky Shane was her stepfather’s son. Ricky had always been a cruel, manipulative kid, and Chloe, being shy and obedient, was an easy target for him. As Ricky got older, his bullying became something far worse. About a year ago, he started assaulting her. No 17-year-old girl could bear that kind of violence. So, Chloe began self-harming to cope with the unbearable pain. “I would cut myself every time he assaulted me,” she said quietly, lowering her eyes. I recalled the scars crisscrossing her arms and felt a cold sweat break out across my back. “If he saw a new scar, he’d punish me even more.” I stood there, at a loss for how to comfort her. I looked up at her floating form. “Did you ever tell your mom?” Chloe paused and then let out a bitter laugh. “I told her many times.” I clenched the pillow in my hand, my palms slick with sweat. She didn’t need to say it. I already knew. Her mother must have known but chose to ignore it to preserve her marriage and keep her comfortable life. Not everyone is fit to be a mother. I realized then that what truly broke Chloe wasn’t Ricky’s abuse. It was the cold indifference of being ignored. That’s why she killed herself.

Chloe was a high school senior, and my high school days were far behind me. Luckily, she didn’t seem very popular at school. I spent the whole morning sitting in her seat, and no one came to say hello or even seemed to notice me. Now, all the students were in gym class, but I had faked being sick to stay in the classroom. Chloe’s social life wasn’t my biggest concern right now—her grades were. I stared at her math test, with a score of 35, and fell into deep thought. I glanced at Chloe, who was floating around the room. She must have thought I had a question because she drifted over to me. I gestured to the test with a nod of my head, and when she saw the score, she looked embarrassed. I shot her a cold glare. She fussed with her hair, her eyes darting around. This was a top-tier high school. With grades like this, she had to be at the very bottom. I couldn’t help but ask, “How did you even get into this school?” Chloe responded lazily, “Because Ricky Shane goes here. I had to attend this school—he won’t let me out of his sight.” I raised an eyebrow. “Is Ricky smart?” “He’s the top student in the school.” I was surprised. I hadn’t expected that. Chloe then asked, “The Reaper said you were smart. Were you a good student in high school?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “I was top of my class.” Being number one was no big deal to me, so I didn’t think much of Chloe’s wide-eyed, astonished expression. I propped my chin on my hand and began flipping through her test. Even if I took the test with my eyes closed, I wouldn’t have gotten such a low score. Chloe continued, “What college did you go to?” Without much thought, I answered, “Harvard.” Chloe blinked, clearly surprised. “Ricky wants to go to Harvard too.” I scoffed internally. Whether Ricky went to Harvard or any other top school was none of my concern. I had no intention of helping Chloe send him to the afterlife, nor did I know how long I would even be stuck in this body. For now, I was just taking things day by day. I was mentally solving one of the math problems when a dark shadow loomed over my desk, followed by a familiar low, raspy voice. “You’re not feeling well?” I looked up, startled to see Ricky Shane standing over me. The sight of him made my chest tighten, this body’s natural response to his presence.

Ricky Shane stood towering over me, his narrow eyes slightly lifting at the corners, his expression unreadable. I glanced toward where Chloe had been floating earlier, but she had disappeared. It was just me and Ricky now, alone in the classroom. I gripped the edge of my skirt and answered, “I’m not feeling well.” Ricky reached out to touch my forehead, but I instinctively swatted his hand away. “I’m fine,” I said coldly. “A minute ago, you said you weren’t feeling well,” he drawled, lazily leaning against the desk beside me. His fingers brushed a strand of my hair as he smirked. “You’ve gotten brave, slapping my hand away like that.” His words were soft, but they sent a shiver down my spine. He might’ve only been a kid, but he had the cold, calculating nature of a venomous snake. It felt like he could wrap his coils around my throat at any moment, cutting off my air supply. The fear was palpable. I stared straight at him, not saying a word. In my old life, I’d never been pushed around or treated with veiled threats like this. And right now, I couldn’t afford to let him suspect that I wasn’t really Chloe Watson. Ricky wasn’t the kind of person who could be easily fooled. His gaze drifted down to the math test on my desk, and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “After all the tutoring I’ve given you, how are you still doing this badly?” I blinked in surprise. Ricky Shane had been tutoring Chloe? I couldn’t help but wonder if his “tutoring” had involved more than just academics. I responded cautiously, “I’m not as smart as you.” He seemed to expect my answer, letting out a barely noticeable sigh. “With grades like these, how are you going to follow me to Harvard?” I frowned. He really thought of Chloe as his possession, didn’t he? He wasn’t just controlling her now—he planned on keeping her trapped even after high school. No wonder she couldn’t take it anymore. Ricky straightened up, his smile fading. “I’ll help you study tonight,” he said, his voice turning cold. “And don’t lock the door. Or else…” He trailed off with a casual laugh, not finishing his sentence. But the threat lingered in the air. I lowered my eyes, forcing a stiff smile.

As soon as Ricky left, I wasted no time pulling out Chloe Watson’s diary and began reading through it. Ricky Shane was far more dangerous than I had imagined. In my previous life, I’d never dealt with someone as insidious as him. Thinking of danger brought Ethan Clint to mind. Ethan had a handsome face, but his cold, emotionless demeanor had always made him seem distant. There was something chilling in his eyes, an unfeeling void. I wondered how he was doing back in Charleston. Had he given me a proper funeral? Without me, his adopted sister, all the inheritance from our late father would be his now. That massive house—was he living in it all alone now? Did he ever get lonely? I turned page after page in the diary, and almost all of it was about Ricky Shane. Chloe’s descriptions painted him as a dark, twisted genius—a brilliant but manipulative psycho, far beyond what she could ever handle. Ricky had isolated Chloe from everyone, making sure she had no friends. He wouldn’t allow anyone else in her life. He demanded that her entire existence revolve around him. Just as I was about to close the diary, a girl’s shadow appeared in my peripheral vision. She rested her hand on my shoulder, her gaze fixated on the notebook in my hands. Startled, I snapped the diary shut and turned to face her. She seemed a bit taken aback by my reaction, squinting her eyes at me. “What’s so secret in that diary that you’re guarding it so closely?” I glanced at the name badge pinned to her chest. Rachel Monroe. This girl didn’t seem like the friendly type. With Chloe gone, I had to handle this on my own. I put on an indifferent face, stuffing the diary into my bag. “It’s nothing important.” Rachel’s eyes drifted to the math test still lying on my desk. She pulled up a chair beside me and started talking. “At first, everyone thought you only got into this school because of donations. But then again, you’ve got a brother who’s top of the class. Why haven’t you asked him to help you with your grades? With scores like these, you’re not getting into any college. Are you planning to study abroad? Well, it doesn’t matter, because Ricky Shane seems to take care of you so well. I’m sure he’ll find a way to get you into Harvard. You’d be lost without him.” Apparently, everyone thought Ricky was being a doting brother, looking after poor Chloe. I gave a mental thumbs-up. Ricky Shane, well done. You’ve got everyone fooled, you manipulative little mastermind. In the back of my mind, I heard Ricky’s cold voice, reminding me about tonight’s “tutoring” session. The diary had made it clear just how those sessions usually went. But I wasn’t Chloe Watson.

Chloe didn’t reappear for the rest of the day, leaving me to sit through an entire afternoon of classes. Back in my own high school days, I had coasted my way into Harvard thanks to academic competitions. But now, if I wanted to survive, I’d have to take the SAT like everyone else. Thankfully, I hadn’t forgotten any of what I’d learned, and the classwork felt familiar. I breezed through the assignments. When the final bell rang, I started packing up my things when Rachel Monroe tapped me on the shoulder. “Ricky’s here to pick you up.” Chloe and Ricky weren’t in the same class, so I looked up toward the door. Sure enough, Ricky was leaning against the frame, his expression calm but unreadable. My stomach twisted with unease. I stayed seated, watching him closely. His dark eyes, glinting with amusement, were locked on mine. Rachel sighed dreamily. “You’re so lucky to have a brother like Ricky.” I didn’t bother looking at her as I replied softly, “You want him? You can have him.” “Huh?” Ricky patiently waited, his posture relaxed as he called out, “Chloe, aren’t you done packing up?” His voice was sweet and warm, dripping with fake kindness. I gritted my teeth. You snake. He walked over to me and gently patted my head, leaning down to whisper, “If you keep stalling, I’ll have to tutor you all night.” I stood abruptly. “I’m ready.” Ricky took my bag from me like it was the most natural thing in the world, playing the role of the perfect, caring brother. As we walked to the car, I tried to summon Chloe. There were so many things I needed to ask her. But she was nowhere to be found. Sitting in the car, I watched the passing scenery, my mind racing with strategies to handle tonight’s “tutoring” session.

��Dad’s home.” I turned toward Ricky, who was resting his elbow against the car window, watching me with a smirk. “We’ll have to wait until after Dad goes to bed for your tutoring session,” he said, leaning closer, his voice low with warning. “You know what happens if you lock the door.” He leaned back, looking satisfied with himself, his lips curling into a lazy smile. I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. Back when Ethan Clint was around, no one dared to treat me like this. We got out of the car and entered the house. As soon as I saw the man sitting in the dining room, my blood ran cold. Even from behind, I recognized him instantly. I would never forget that figure, no matter what. The man slowly turned to face me, his smile warm as he called out, “Chloe.” Chloe Watson’s stepfather—Ricky Shane’s father—was none other than Richard Shane. My entire body tensed up. Every cell in me screamed with the urge to flee. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath catching in my throat. I bolted up the stairs to my room, telling myself to breathe, forcing myself to stay calm. I remembered now. Richard Shane did have a son he adored, a boy he bragged about constantly, a supposed prodigy. I’d tried to forget, but fate had other plans. At that moment, Chloe reappeared. My heart raced as I processed everything that had happened in the past few days. None of it made sense, and I was losing control. I didn’t know who was behind all of this, who was pulling the strings. But I knew one thing for sure: Richard Shane needed to pay for what he did. And Ricky? I’d send him to the afterlife to keep Chloe company. If his precious son died, Richard Shane would suffer. And there’s no greater pain than a parent burying their child.

Chloe looked hesitant, like she had something to say but was holding back. Her reluctance irritated me. Just as I was about to push her to talk, there was a knock at the door. Chloe disappeared instantly, leaving me to deal with whoever was on the other side—most likely Ricky. God, I was exhausted. The door was locked, but Ricky continued to knock persistently. My back pressed against the wall, and my stomach churned at the thought of sitting at the dinner table with Richard Shane. The knocking grew louder and more impatient. “Chloe, open the door.” I opened the door, and Ricky’s eyes scanned me. “What’s going on? Just because you don’t like my dad doesn’t mean you can be rude. If your mom were here, she wouldn’t let this slide.” My legs felt weak as I wobbled slightly, my voice coming out low and shaky. “I don’t feel well.” Ricky’s hand cupped my face, tilting my chin up. His dark eyes studied my pale, tired expression, his touch oddly gentle. “You don’t look so good. Can you handle dinner?” I shook my head. “I don’t want to eat.” “Then rest.” I moved to close the door, my hand on the knob when he suddenly called out, “Chloe.” The half-sigh I’d just released caught in my throat. He glanced over his shoulder at me, his gaze intense. “Be good, Chloe.” I nodded stiffly and shut the door.

I pushed open the bathroom door and turned on the faucet, letting the water fill the tub. I leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale and lifeless, and my eyes, exhausted to the core, refused to close. I submerged myself in the warm, misty water. My school uniform soaked through and clung tightly to my skin. As soon as I closed my eyes, I was back in that studio with Richard Shane when I was twelve. His voice echoed in my ears, smooth and persuasive, while his hand slowly slid up my leg. “Do you still want to continue lessons? My lessons are expensive, and I heard your father went bankrupt. If you want to keep taking my classes, you’ll need to be a good girl and listen to your teacher.” “You’ve got real talent in painting, Olivia. It would be such a waste to let your parents’ mistakes ruin your future.” The studio was cluttered, his hands, his breath—everything about him suffocated me. I bet Chloe Watson didn’t expect that I’d help her, not just because I needed this body, but because her stepfather, Richard Shane, had once been my teacher. He molested me when I was twelve. At the time, my family had just gone bankrupt, and I desperately wanted to continue taking his classes. But his lessons were expensive. He took me to his studio and said that if I agreed to play a game with him, he would let me attend his classes for free. That day in the studio became a lifelong nightmare. When my dad found out, he tried to kill Richard. He attacked him, but without enough evidence, Richard got away with it. My dad, on the other hand, was sentenced to five years in prison for assault, where he died of a heart attack. That year, I learned what it meant to lose everything. Relatives distanced themselves, and I ended up in an orphanage. For years, I lived in misery, while Richard Shane climbed the ladder of fame in the art world, almost being revered as a genius. Now I realize the truth of the saying: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Richard Shane raised a criminal just like himself. The bathroom filled with steam, and through the mist, I saw Ricky Shane walk in.

Ricky Shane stood there for a long time, his gaze slowly scanning every inch of me. I didn’t say a word, didn’t even blink. He crouched down beside the tub, brushing his hand through my wet hair, staring into my eyes. “Chloe, something’s off about you.” Of course something’s off—I’m not Chloe. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. Warm liquid trickled between my legs. I quickly looked down and saw blood mixing with the bathwater. “You’re early.” I turned my head away, saying nothing. He continued talking to himself. “Too much stress, maybe?” He bent down and lifted me out of the tub, water rippling behind us. His fingers went to the buttons of my school shirt. I looked up at him, and in my mind, his face began to merge with Richard Shane’s. Like a madwoman, I shoved him away and coldly said, “Don’t touch me.” He laughed darkly. “Don’t touch you?” I repeated, “Don’t touch me.” In an instant, his hand clamped around my neck, slamming me back against the wall. He sneered, his voice icy and low. “Since when did I give you the right to refuse me?” His cold fingers curled around my throat, pressing directly over my pulse. Honestly, I thought he was going to kill me. My breathing grew ragged as his grip tightened. Just when I thought he was serious about strangling me, his hand loosened. He let go and pulled me into his arms, his fingers tracing the scars on my arms. His voice dropped to a soothing tone, as if trying to coax me. “Wouldn’t it be easier if you just behaved? If you behaved, I wouldn’t have to make you suffer.” He’s a lunatic—Ricky Shane is completely insane. Chloe’s life was truly miserable, to end up with someone like him. His eyes scanned my face, expressionless, as he murmured, “Too bad I won’t be able to tutor you tonight.”

I propped my chin up with one hand while the teacher wrote on the board. The sound of pens scratching against paper filled the room. I was doing my best to keep up the appearance of being a slacker, like Chloe, without even bothering to open a book. My eyes were fixed on the board, but my mind was elsewhere. Right now, I was living as Chloe Watson. Her life and status were miles below what I was used to. It made everything harder. I needed to come up with a solid plan. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Chloe’s mom. “We’re going to a gallery this afternoon. I’ve already gotten you out of class.” Richard Shane had gained quite a reputation in recent years, becoming one of the top artists in the country. His name carried weight in the industry. I had always gone out of my way to avoid hearing about him. In my mind, as long as I didn’t acknowledge his success, it was like he didn’t exist in my world. The gallery exhibition went smoothly. I had to admit, Richard’s work was an undeniable visual feast. I used the excuse of not feeling well to leave early. As I stepped outside, a sleek black car pulled up at the curb. A young man stepped out from the driver’s seat and hurried over to open the back door. The first thing I noticed was a pair of polished black shoes, toes resting firmly on the shadowy patterns of the fallen leaves. He wore a navy blue, tailored suit, his fingers tapping quickly on his phone. Then he paused, raising his head without warning, and our eyes met. Sharp, almond-shaped eyes, both refined and ruthless, with a thin scar running along his eyebrow. There was something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. It was Ethan Clint. Why was he in Charleston? Ethan didn’t say a word. He just stared at me. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were stormy. I had a gut feeling—he recognized me, the soul beneath this body. He knew I was Olivia. He suddenly stepped forward, bending down to wrap his arms around me. “Olivia,” he breathed, his voice deep and rough in my ear. “Welcome back.” His familiar scent flooded my senses. My mind exploded. He recognized me. Ethan Clint recognized me immediately. Leaning into his chest, I glanced up at the scar above his brow. That scar—Ethan got it trying to catch me when I jumped out of a tree. I don’t even remember why I climbed up that day, just that getting up was easy, but getting down was terrifying. Ethan had stood below with his arms outstretched, promising he’d catch me. It wasn’t long after I’d been adopted into the Clint family, and I didn’t fully trust him yet, but for some reason, I jumped anyway. He held me tight, not letting me get hurt at all. But he broke his arm in the process, and the cut above his brow came from hitting his head on a rock. I had no idea how to explain to him why I was in someone else’s body, or why I hadn’t come looking for him sooner. But it was like he knew. He patted my head gently and said, “You don’t have to explain.” “What are you doing in Charleston?” I asked. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and said casually, “Just handling some business.” He lifted my face, carefully inspecting every inch. His brow furrowed, and he tapped my forehead lightly. “This face… doesn’t look as good as yours.” Thank God Chloe hasn’t shown up—this could’ve been really awkward. The corners of his deep-set eyes softened slightly as he asked, “I can’t take you away just yet, can I?” I shook my head. I was still Chloe Watson, and I couldn’t just leave with Ethan Clint. He stroked my hair, just like he used to, and said, “Olivia, we need to talk.” Out of nowhere, I blurted, “Did you hold a funeral for me?” There was a brief flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “Yeah, I did.” “Was it grand?” He was silent for a moment before replying, “It was.” Even if the funeral had been grand, the only attendees would’ve been people with business ties to the Clint family. I never had any real friends. He leaned against the car, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one. The thick smoke swirled around his piercing gaze. He silently took a few drags, and without thinking, I reached for his cigarette pack—just like I used to. He caught my hand, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “Has this body even hit legal age?” he asked. I smirked. “Just turned 18. I’ve got college entrance exams coming up.” He smiled with his mouth, but there wasn’t any humor in his eyes. He patted my hand and refused. “High school seniors aren’t allowed to smoke.” I shot back, “I smoked when I was a senior, and you didn’t stop me then.” He chuckled. “I wasn’t in the country back then. Too far away to stop you.” He lifted his wrist to check his watch, then glanced behind me. “There’s a kid across the street staring at us. Do you know him?” I turned around. Across the road, Ricky Shane was glaring at us, his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched tightly, knuckles white. I snorted. “Oh, I know him, alright.” 15 Ignoring Ricky Shane’s rage, I turned back to continue talking to Ethan. He was my strength, my anchor. Somewhere along the line, I’d grown to rely on him completely. As long as he was around, nothing scared me. “That guy’s name is Ricky Shane. He’s this body’s brother,” I paused, then added, “stepbrother.” I could feel Ricky’s eyes boring into my back, but Ethan just glanced over my shoulder, sizing him up. “He’s got a thing for his sister.” I blinked, surprised. “How do you know that?” Ethan returned his gaze to me, his expression unreadable. “I’m not blind.” He suddenly frowned, grabbing my wrist and rolling up my sleeve, exposing the scars on my arm. “What’s this about?” “That’s the girl’s doing, not mine.” I was debating whether or not to tell Ethan the deal Chloe had proposed: if I killed Ricky, I could keep her body. I knew Ethan would have no problem burying Ricky six feet under without hesitation. But I couldn’t let him do that. He’d worked so hard to clean up the Clint family’s reputation, ridding it of all the shady stuff. His hands didn’t need more blood on them. While I was still talking to Ethan, I misjudged Ricky’s possessiveness and underestimated his anger. I didn’t expect Ricky to charge toward us. His face was twisted with fury, and before I could grab his arm to stop him, he shoved me aside and stormed toward Ethan, who had his back turned while talking on the phone. Without warning, Ricky yanked Ethan by the collar and punched him hard in the jaw. Ricky had put his full strength into that punch. Ethan, caught off guard, stumbled back, blood trickling from his mouth. In all the years I’d known Ethan, I had never seen anyone hit him. My voice shook with fury. “Ricky Shane, have you lost your damn mind?” Ethan wiped the blood from his mouth, his expression darkening like a storm on the horizon. He tilted his head slightly, stepped forward, and grabbed Ricky by the throat. “You little punk.” Ethan moved so fast that Ricky didn’t even have time to react. His face turned bright red as he struggled to breathe, unable to speak a word. Ethan had him completely overpowered, his grip unyielding. I’d always known Ethan had a rough side. From the day I met him, he’d been wild to the core. A street kid at heart. Ricky, raised in comfort and luxury, didn’t stand a chance. Ethan’s knuckles whitened, and for a second, it looked like he might actually strangle him. His brow furrowed, and with a swift motion, he let go. Ricky collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. Ethan pressed his shoe against Ricky’s chin, looking down at him like he was nothing more than a stray dog. The showdown between a grown man and a teenage boy ended with the teenager thoroughly humiliated. 16 I stood there, wide-eyed, watching the whole scene unfold. I wasn’t new to seeing Ethan fight, but this time I wasn’t Olivia Dawner—I was Chloe Watson—and I didn’t know how I was supposed to react as her. Behind me, I heard a woman’s shrill cry, “Ricky!” Chloe’s mother, Diane, came rushing over in her high heels, kneeling beside Ricky. Following close behind her was Richard Shane, his face like thunder. Ethan smirked, his eyes flicking from Ricky to Richard, lifting his chin slightly as he said, “Seems like your son wasn’t raised with much discipline.” Richard’s eyes darted between Ethan and his son. For a moment, he looked shocked, but he quickly recovered his composure. “My apologies, Mr. Clint,” Richard said, his tone smooth but strained. He didn’t need to ask what had happened; the blood on Ethan’s lip made it obvious. Men like Ethan didn’t get into fights with high schoolers without good reason. Diane helped Ricky to his feet. He grimaced, his face taut with barely-contained anger. Richard turned to his son and said through clenched teeth, “Apologize to Mr. Clint.” Ricky stubbornly refused to say a word. I thought Ethan might step in to defuse the tension, but he didn’t. He was really waiting for Ricky to apologize. The atmosphere grew heavier, the standoff dragging on. I finally stepped forward, trying to smooth things over. “I’ll apologize on my brother’s behalf. I’m sorry.” Ethan glanced at Ricky and then back at Richard, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “Looks like your daughter’s got more manners than your son, Mr. Shane.” Richard and Diane both plastered on awkward smiles, but I could feel Ethan’s gaze lingering on me. Watching the way Richard acted around Ethan, I knew instantly—Ethan was the main financial backer behind the art gallery Richard was working on. Ricky kept his head down, his fists clenched, fury practically radiating off him. The tension was suffocating. Out of nowhere, Chloe appeared. She stood right beside Ricky, leaned in close to me, and whispered in my ear, “Olivia, you’re in trouble now.”

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The app linked to my smart scale had just sent a weight notification for the third time tonight. “Congratulations, you’re 97 pounds today!” But here I was, sitting at the office, while the scale was at home. 97 pounds, my dream weight. Yet all I felt was disgust. Great. Mike was cheating on me, and he didn’t even bother to hide it. And the other woman… was her?! My husband, Mike, is the CEO of a tech company. Naturally, everyone assumes that since he’s wealthy, I’d settle down and become a full-time housewife after giving birth to Henry. But I couldn’t do it. I worked so hard to become a senior manager at a tech firm. Sure, I can take care of the family, but losing my career? Never. Mike complained about it often, but I brushed it off. I never thought he’d actually… On my way home, I dialed his number. His voice on the other end was soft, almost too sweet—nothing like a man who’d just rolled off another woman. “Carrie, why aren’t you home yet?” “I’ll be there soon.” When I got home, I barely kept the nausea at bay before I fell asleep. The next morning, once Mike left for work, I picked up my phone and made the call. “Come over. I’m home.” I had someone install hidden cameras throughout the house. To say I wasn’t hurt would be a lie, but I had to swallow the bitterness and stay rational. If your spouse cheats once, it’s time to throw in the towel. But before I could divorce him, I needed proof. That night. I looked at myself in the mirror, my makeup flawless, as I gritted my teeth and called Mike. “There’s a problem with the project in San Diego. I need to take the team there for a few days. Henry’s on summer break, so I’ll bring him along. My assistant will keep him busy while I’m working.” Mike’s voice was calm. “Sure, don’t worry about me. Just call me when you get to San Diego.” He didn’t even mention Henry. Of course. He had a mistress now; the family was the last thing on his mind. I hung up, sighed, and glanced at my fourth-grade son, wondering if my suspicions were true. If they were, then Mike and that wretched Emily were worse than animals. Sitting at the airport, I watched the video on my phone, my heart breaking. It was past midnight, and they couldn’t wait to jump into bed together. That bed—the one I slept in every single night. I felt nauseous. Emily’s innocent face, twisted in lust. A wave of cold washed over me. I was the one who arranged her job, her place to stay. And now, she was in my bed with my husband. I uploaded the video to cloud storage, wiped my eyes, and boarded the flight with Henry. Sure, I needed to go to San Diego for work, but not for as long as I’d told Mike. When we landed, my best friend, Jessica, was there to meet me. Once Henry was asleep, we sat down in the living room. Seeing Jessica, the floodgates opened, and all the pain I’d been holding in poured out. I laid my head on her lap, soaking her clothes with my tears. I was always the strong one. But I’d always dreamed of having a warm family, a husband who loved and protected me. Now that dream had been shattered by an affair. After I calmed down, Jessica handed me a glass of juice. “So, what’s your plan?” “Div… Divorce!” I choked out, splashing cold water on my face. But even as I spoke, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. In the end, I didn’t say another word. I took a hot shower and retreated to the guest room to rest. I couldn’t speak anymore. Every word I tried to form felt like a dagger to the chest. It felt like being cut with a dull knife, the pain slow and relentless. Even in bed, I tossed and turned, clenching my teeth in anger, until I gave in and checked the surveillance footage. Their voices were disgusting. After a passionate round, Emily lay in Mike’s arms, her delicate fingers tracing his chest. “Mike, doesn’t this feel like paradise? Having us both?” Mike sighed in satisfaction. “It does.” “Tell me, is Carrie better, or am I?” Mike rolled on top of her, making her groan softly. “Of course, you’re better! She’s had a kid. She’s not as tight as you are.” Emily pouted. “Then why are you so good to her? You let her have full access to your bank account. You don’t do that for me. Are you trying to avoid having a kid with me?”

Mike kissed her, pride oozing from his voice. “There’s nothing in that account. I transferred everything to the company last month. She doesn’t need the money. Don’t worry, you’re the one I love the most. Didn’t you want that sports car? I’ll get it for you next week.” “Ah! You’re the best!” Emily squealed. I was done. There was no going back now. I wouldn’t let them get away with this. A plan began to form in my mind. First, I’d find Emily a new, younger lover. Then, I’d convince Mike to divorce me under false pretenses. And finally, I’d make him raise another man’s child. I ordered a drink called “Yesterday’s Dust” and sipped it slowly at the bar. It was crowded, but I felt like a stranger, disconnected from everyone. Then, a tall, broad-shouldered man walked in. He looked clean-cut, probably not even thirty. I took my drink and sat at his booth, noticing how nervous he seemed. I smiled. “Shall we go somewhere quieter?” He hesitated but agreed. I took him to a presidential suite. He still looked uneasy. I chuckled coldly. “We’re both grown-ups here, no need to play games. I see right through you. But I’m still willing to give you a chance. I have a job for you. Interested?” He smiled, more confidently now. “My name’s Janine Russell. What kind of job are we talking about?” I couldn’t help but admire her acting skills. If the bartender hadn’t tipped me off, I wouldn’t have known. “My husband is cheating on me. I need you to help me get back at him.” Janine loosened her tie, leaning closer. Her breath tickled my neck, her voice dripping with testosterone. “Are you asking me to make him jealous?” I pushed her solid chest away. I wanted to be loved, but not like this. “You’ve got it wrong. I need you to seduce his mistress—my cousin. I’ll cover all the expenses. Once the job is done, I’ll pay you $50,000 to study abroad.” We agreed on the terms, and I handed her a card. “There’s $20,000 on this card. Use it as you see fit. Don’t worry about returning any leftover funds.” “Let’s exchange contact info,” Janine suggested. “I use a work WhatsApp, no one will notice it.” She nodded respectfully. “Sounds good.” After exchanging contacts, I left. Back in Chicago, I rented Janine a place downtown. I told her everything she needed to know about Emily’s habits and preferences. I handed her another card. “Buy a car.” She took the card, her fingers brushing mine intentionally. “You sure you don’t want me? I could make you happy.” I pinched her cheek playfully. “Wrong target, sweetie. Focus on your job, or I’ll find someone else to take over.” As I reached the door, I remembered something. “Oh, and by the way, Emily works at a company I own. She has no idea I’m the majority shareholder. I’ll set you up as her new supervisor. Play your part well.” The next day, I called the CEO, Steven Moore, and got Janine appointed as the new HR manager. With everything in place, I went home and cooked dinner. When Mike returned, he washed his hands and sat at the table. “Where’s Henry?” I poured him a bowl of soup. “I dropped him off at my mom’s. By the way, he’s about to finish elementary school, and I heard Ridgewood Academy has the best placement rates.” Mike nodded, barely thinking about it. “Then let’s send him there.” I hesitated. “But Ridgewood is in a different district. We’d have to buy a house in the area.” Mike nodded. “Then buy one. We could live there while Henry’s in school.” Oh, so you and Emily can have the house to yourselves? I sighed. “I found a nice place with a good view.” Mike’s eyes lit up. “We’ve maxed out our property allowances. Selling one wouldn’t be smart in this market. How about we file for a temporary divorce?” A sharp pain stabbed my heart, but I forced back the tears. “Okay.” That’s when I knew. It was over.

Three days later, I had my divorce papers in hand. Without hesitation, I bought the new house. I snapped a few photos and sent them to Emily. Emily always was jealous. Since Mike hadn’t bought her a house yet, I bet she was seething. Back home, I found a stash of neatly arranged condoms in the nightstand. Good. Let the storm rage on. I packed my bags and moved into my new home. I messaged Janine: “Everything’s ready. How about you?” Janine sent me a location. “I spilled coffee on her, then offered to take her shopping as an apology. Her appetite’s huge. How does your husband keep up with her?” I had to see this for myself. Feigning a casual encounter, I ran into Emily outside a luxury boutique. She wrapped her arm around mine. “Carrie! Janine’s our manager, and she accidentally spilled coffee on me. She’s treating me to a new outfit.” Janine shook my hand. “Emily is beautiful, smart, and a very capable employee. She’s got potential.” I watched Emily beam, feeling a pang of bitterness. “It’s lunchtime. Why don’t we all grab a bite together?” At the private dining room, Emily seemed tense. “So, Mike is here too?” she asked. I picked up the menu and ordered a few dishes. “Yeah, he insisted on tagging along. Said he didn’t want me carrying all the bags.” Mike smiled and handed me a bracelet. “I saw this and thought of you. It suits you.” I admired it, then raised an eyebrow. “I think Emily has one just like this, doesn’t she?” I watched as both Mike and Emily stiffened, enjoying every second of their discomfort. This bracelet cost around $7,000. No way could Emily afford it on her salary. After that awkward meal, we all went our separate ways. As we drove home, I smirked. “What do you think of Janine?” Mike’s expression darkened slightly, though he kept smiling. “Who?” “Janine, the person we had lunch with. It looks like she and Emily might be dating. Otherwise, why would Janine buy her clothes, and why would Emily accept them?” Mike’s face turned stony, but he forced a laugh. “Young people should enjoy dating, I suppose.” I chuckled to myself. Old fox. Mike dropped me off at work, then left. I put on my headphones and opened the monitoring app. Mike was fuming, scolding Emily for her flirtations. I uploaded the recording to the cloud, thinking that both men and women love a little fling on the side. But what chance does a middle-aged man, no matter how well-kept, stand against a younger, richer, more handsome guy? Especially one I’d handpicked for my dear cousin. Three months later, late at night, I watched a new video Janine had sent me. The main event was about to begin. And to my surprise, there was a twist. Emily was pregnant. I saw the two bright lines on the pregnancy test. The time had come. I was done waiting. It was time to confront them.

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