Category: English

Eight Christmases ago, my boyfriend Liam Mitchell held my hand and said, “Once I make it with my startup, I’ll give you the good life you deserve.” To support him, I gave him all my savings, sold my house, and even racked up millions in debt. We crammed into a rundown rental that cost fifteen dollars a day, surviving on three part-time jobs. Until one day, I collapsed at the factory and was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. Just as I was debating whether to tell him the news, I received a livestream link from Eleanor Baker, his childhood friend. I clicked on it and saw Liam in a custom-tailored suit, slipping a ten-million-dollar diamond ring onto Eleanor’s finger under dazzling fireworks. The screen was flooded with comments. [Mr. Mitchell spoils Ms. Baker so much. That diamond ring on her hand could feed that beggar Caroline Thompson for ten lifetimes.] [When will Caroline’s livestream shut down? I just want to see her face when she learns the truth.] [Soon. They’ve already changed the stream’s name. Then we’ll get to watch her get brutally dumped.] With trembling hands, I clicked into the stream they mentioned, only to discover the camera had been focused on our cheap rental all along. Even the stream’s name had been changed to [Breakup Countdown: 3 Days]. It turned out Liam was never poor at all—he was the heir to Mitchell Group. These eight Christmases of my desperate sacrifices were just his carefully orchestrated reality show for the entire internet’s entertainment. But now, it was my turn to direct the ending. ***** My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I held my phone, watching the viewer count for the three-day countdown stream skyrocket. Liam had his arm around Eleanor, speaking with casual indifference: “Time’s almost up—just a few days left. When the moment comes, I’m going to dump that stupid woman without mercy. Want to make a bet? Let’s bet on whether she’ll jump off a building when she learns the truth. After all, she has nothing left now except me.” Every word pierced my heart with surgical precision, the pain so intense it triggered spasms in my stomach. Since Liam wanted to put on a show, I’d play along for these final fourteen days. Only this time, I wouldn’t let things unfold according to his plan. I didn’t return to the factory. Instead, I clutched that diagnosis and walked along the riverbank before heading back to the rental. The moment I pushed open the door, I was hit by the stench of mold mixed with dampness. Several cockroaches scurried away from the light, leaving tiny tracks across the moldy bedsheets. Liam hadn’t come back, as expected. Before, I thought he was busy with business meetings and deals. Now I realized that every time he stepped into this dump, his eyes held not exhaustion, but barely concealed disgust. Familiar stabbing pain shot through my stomach, but it couldn’t compare to the tearing agony in my heart. Eight Christmases ago, when I withdrew all my family’s savings to help Liam, my parents Matthew and Audrey Thompson were so furious they cut ties with me. Later, I even sold the downtown riverside apartment Matthew had given me when I came of age, transferring every penny to Liam’s account. That day, he held me with tears in his eyes: “Caroline, once my startup succeeds, I’ll buy you ten houses better than this one.” But through the livestream replays, I learned he’d immediately taken Eleanor to luxury boutiques and blown through all my money. He’d even said, “It’s not much, but we’ll make do.” Thinking about it now, I let out a bitter laugh. Last night’s livestream clips had gone viral. Liam became the “public’s ideal boyfriend,” and Mitchell Group’s stock price had doubled. My phone’s vibration snapped me back to reality. I realized the livestream in my room had been activated without my knowledge, with over a hundred thousand viewers. The screen was flooded with comments. [How did this woman get so filthy? She must actually be begging on the streets.] [Pay attention everyone, because there’s about to be a good show. Though I have to say, she’s got a nice body.] I clutched my clothes tighter, trembling uncontrollably. Following the camera’s angle, I looked toward the piggy bank on the broken wooden desk. It was the birthday gift Liam had given me on our first Christmas together. Just a clay piggy bank, worthless really. But I’d treasured it as a token of our love, carefully carrying it with me through every move. I never imagined it contained a livestream surveillance camera, clearly recording eight Christmases of my pathetic existence. Just then, urgent, violent pounding erupted from outside the door. The voice shouted: “Bitch! If you don’t pay rent today, get the hell out!” My heart seemed to stop, but searching my entire body, I found only a few dollars. Last week’s wages had been transferred away by Liam the moment they hit my account—he said the company needed them. When I didn’t respond, even more violent kicking and cursing came from outside. “I saw you come back with my own eyes. How dare you hide from me?” Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around myself and cowered in the corner, shaking. The pounding suddenly stopped, replaced by the sound of keys turning in the lock. The door opened. I stepped back twice, then saw Liam appear before me. He’d changed from his custom suit into a worn T-shirt, waving several crumpled bills in his hand. Liam said, “Caroline, I picked up a side job today and made three hundred dollars. I just paid the rent. You can spend whatever’s left however you want.”

Liam looked incredibly excited, as if he was genuinely thrilled about these three hundred dollars. With trembling hands, I took the three crumpled bills, tears blurring my vision. Eight years had passed. Now, his acting skills had become even more refined—I had never seen through them. Liam seemed to notice something was off with me, his tone almost deliberately enthusiastic. He said, “I earn money just to spend it on you, don’t I? Once my company takes off, forget this little amount—I’d give you three million dollars without hesitation.” I looked up at him, suddenly remembering a comment that mentioned Liam had spent thirty million dollars on Eleanor’s personal exhibition tomorrow. I stared into Liam’s eyes, my voice barely audible: “Could you stay home and spend time with me tomorrow?” Liam froze for a moment, instinctively glancing around the room. Just then, moldy wallpaper fell from behind me, crumbling into black debris at my feet. I clearly saw him frown slightly, a hint of impatience flickering in his eyes. He said, “Baby, I have to meet with investors tomorrow. This is crucial—it’s a matter of life and death for the company.” For all these years, Liam had used this same excuse, and he’d gotten increasingly smooth at it. He would disappear for a week at the shortest, sometimes for months. Yet after eight years of these “critical periods,” his company still hadn’t made any progress. If it weren’t for those livestream recordings, I would never have known that his so-called business trips were just shopping sprees, vacations, and even studying abroad with Eleanor. Now Liam couldn’t even remember my birthday, just habitually brushing me off. This familiar attitude broke my heart. I forced a smile and said, “It’s okay. Focus on your work.” “Alright, I’m going to take a shower first.” Liam nodded as if he’d been granted a reprieve, hurrying into the bathroom as if staying here another moment disgusted him. My phone buzzed—Eleanor had started a livestream. As if possessed, I clicked in and saw her sitting surrounded by luxury shopping bags. She laughed softly, “Someone’s asking what’s special about today. Actually, it’s not really a special day. “Liam just loves giving me gifts. He says every day we’re together is an anniversary.” She suddenly leaned closer to the camera, blinking sweetly: “He even mysteriously told me this morning that he’s preparing a huge surprise for me.” The screen instantly filled with comments full of envy and well-wishes. But a few harsh comments slipped by. [Just came back from that beggar woman’s stream. I’m dying laughing. She actually thinks Mr. Mitchell would spend a whole day with her in that dump.] [I’m so embarrassed for her. Mr. Mitchell is helping Ms. Baker with her exhibition tomorrow—how could he possibly have time for her?] I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear reading those cruel comments. I had spent eight years of my youth with him, exhausted my family’s fortune, and this was what I got in return. While I was lost in thought, the bathroom door suddenly burst open. Liam emerged, toweling his hair, carrying the scent of an unfamiliar body wash. He said, “Caroline, didn’t you complain about me not spending time with you? Tonight, I’m taking you to meet the investors.” Before I could process my surprise, a wrinkled dress was thrown into my arms. There were obvious foundation stains on the neckline—clearly Eleanor had worn it. My heart ached, but he simply helped me put on the dress. Liam took me to a luxurious banquet hall, then skillfully pushed open the door to a VIP room. Instantly, I was hit by the overwhelming smell of smoke and alcohol. I instinctively frowned and started coughing, but Liam pushed me forward. He said, “Go say hello.” Several sleazy men sat on the sofa. Their gazes roamed shamelessly over my body, making me tremble uncontrollably. Liam shoved a wine glass into my hand, saying, “Go toast them. Whether the project succeeds depends on tonight.” One of the men approached and refilled my empty glass. He leered, “How much we invest in Mr. Mitchell depends on your performance.” Amid the raucous laughter, I was forced to drink glass after glass. After two bottles, my consciousness began to blur. When rough hands reached for my thigh, I finally broke down. I pushed through the crowd and stumbled into the bathroom. I vomited until I nearly passed out, my stomach feeling like it was being stabbed with blades, the pain making me break out in cold sweat. Humiliation and despair overwhelmed me, and I couldn’t stop crying. After what felt like forever, my phone rang. I answered, and a man’s voice came through: “Is this Caroline? This is the oncology center at Central Hospital. “We’re currently recruiting stomach cancer patients for paid human trials of a new treatment. Would you be interested in participating?”

I agreed almost without hesitation. At Central Hospital, Wyatt Hughes showed me around the treatment facility and patiently explained the feasibility of the treatment plan. He said, “This treatment will take about a year. In return, after the experiment ends, we’ll pay you two million dollars in compensation.” I nodded quietly, my voice hoarse as I said, “I have only one request. Before the project begins, I need you to help me fake my death from stomach cancer.” Wyatt frowned slightly but eventually nodded. When I left the hospital, dawn was breaking. I looked around in confusion, suddenly unsure where to go. Just then, my phone, clutched tightly in my hand, began to vibrate. I answered the call, and Ellie Morris’s cautious voice came through: “Caroline, are you free today to help me with something?” These past few years, Ellie had found me many odd jobs, barely allowing me to make ends meet. “Sure, I’ll be right over.” I swallowed the words of refusal. I wiped the tears from my face and headed to the agreed location. The moment I stepped into the art gallery, an uneasy feeling washed over me. Walking into the exhibition hall, I saw Eleanor’s life-size standee. So this was where her solo exhibition was being held. She was like a ghost I couldn’t shake off. I stopped in my tracks, instinctively turning to flee. But then I saw Liam at a nearby display, struggling to move a massive painting. Sweat trickled down his jaw, soaking the custom suit I had bought him on installments over a year. Yet he didn’t seem tired at all, his face showing barely concealed joy. This was completely different from his attitude when I’d asked him to help hang laundry. Eleanor suddenly looked up and met my gaze, flashing a provocative smile. “Liam, don’t move,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to tenderly wipe the sweat from his forehead with her handkerchief, her movements gentle and lingering. Liam obediently bent down, letting her fingertips trace suggestively across his brow and lips. Watching this scene, a dull pain shot through my chest. Eleanor deliberately raised her voice while staring straight at me. She said, “Liam, if that beggar woman saw us like this, would she make a scene with you right here?” Liam hadn’t noticed my presence and only indulgently pinched Eleanor’s nose: “That would be perfect—saves me from planning how to break up with her.” My heartbeat and breathing suddenly became very light, as if something was slowly being stripped away from my body. The exhibition opening began. The crowd suddenly surged forward, pushing me back step by step. A woman said, “Look, everyone. That’s Mr. Mitchell and Ms. Baker. They’re so sweet together.” A man excitedly said, “Mr. Mitchell is going to livestream his breakup with that beggar woman tomorrow, right?” Another man said dismissively, “Yes. Over a million people have already signed up to watch. I really want to see that beggar woman who won’t leave Mr. Mitchell alone make a fool of herself.” The people around me were chatting excitedly. Every word pierced straight through my chest. I covered my face, afraid they’d recognize me. But as I turned to leave, someone deliberately tripped me, and I crashed onto the marble floor. At the same time, a bucket of dirty mop water beside me was knocked over in the chaos, and the filthy water splashed across my face. The dirty water ran down my hair into my collar, gradually soaking my entire body. When I tremblingly opened my eyes, everyone around me had stepped back, but they were all holding up their phones, frantically filming me. A woman said in shock, “Oh my God! How dare she show up here?” Another woman said, “She deserves it! She still dares to appear looking like that!” Their undisguised mockery drew a burst of laughter. I tried to struggle to my feet, but someone in the crowd shoved me again, and I fell heavily back to the ground. My palms burned with pain, and the marble floor beneath my hands was now stained with blood. A man shouted, “Look over there, everyone!” A piercing cheer suddenly erupted from the front, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. Through my vision blurred by dirty water, I saw Eleanor smiling radiantly like a flower, actively kissing Liam’s lips under the soft silver spotlight. Liam’s hands gripped her waist tightly. The two of them kissed passionately under the spotlight, like the perfect ending of a fairy tale. And I was covered in filth, like a discarded rag. Only after witnessing all this did I finally realize that we were never from the same world. My nails dug deep into my palms, but my mind was unusually clear. This absurd reality show had just one more day before it would finally end.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “398129”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G #Cheating #RichPoor #FalseIdentity #Revenge

After securing a guaranteed spot in Harvard, I decided to skip the SAT. The moment the school’s golden boy Clive Smolett heard that, he stormed over and punched me across the face. “Everyone else has to take the SAT! Why the hell do you get a free pass? “Is it because you’re scared you’re not actually the genius you think you are, and you’re afraid the whole campus will find out, huh?” In my last life, during the SAT, Clive’s essay was identical to mine—word for word. I asked the proctor—my own sister—and my childhood friend, who was in the same exam room, to back me up. Instead, they begged the school to go easy on me, saying I should be allowed to retake the test since it’s my “first offense.” By the time the scandal blew up, everyone cursed my name and accused me of being a “cheater” and “plagiarist.” And since I couldn’t prove I was innocent, I got expelled. To make things worse, they got me permanently banned from taking the test again. Mom and Dad were doxxed and harassed online. They lost their jobs and aged 10 years overnight. Their son went from being on top to hitting rock bottom. Depression hit hard. On a winter night, I took my life. But then, suddenly, I woke up—back to the week before the SAT. ***** “Denny, I made some avocado toast with smoked salmon. Eat first before you study. You’ve lost weight!” My sister Charlize Witt placed the plate on my desk, even taking the time to bring some blueberry protein smoothie. For a second, I nearly fell out of my chair in surprise. Just then, my best friend Geena Baxter walked in, setting another food container on my desk. “I heard you haven’t been eating much. Here, I made some hummus for you so you can eat well again.” I’d been through this before. Twice. In my last life, I thought I was the luckiest person in the world—I got a sister seven years older who always took care of me and a childhood friend who wasn’t blood but felt closer than family. But now that I was back in my life, their efforts just broke my heart. Back then, when I took the admission test, my essay was identical to Clive’s, down to the last word. The grading committee caught it immediately and reported it to the College Board. As a student who got recommended to be admitted to Harvard, I had a real shot at being the highest scorer in SAT. But the moment this incident broke, I was caught in a storm of public opinion. I begged Charlize, who was my proctor then, and Geena, who took the exam in the same room, to help me clear my name. But… they refused. My sister even apologized on my behalf, asking Payton College Preparatory High School to let me repeat the year instead of kicking me out since the “academic dishonesty” was my “first offense.” The incident sparked an uproar online. [I was like, ‘wow, he had the nerve to cheat,’ and then, turns out—his own sister was the proctor! That’s basically an inside job, right?!] [Exactly! Cheaters like this guy should be banned from taking the SAT forever! It’s only fair to everyone!]] [Absolutely! He wants to retake the exam? Dream on!] With all the backlash, the school shut down Charlize’s request. Not long after, the exam results were released. I, the school’s top student, barely scraped past 200 points. Meanwhile? Clive, the guy who always ranked at the bottom, miraculously became the state’s top scorer in SAT. His essay was even published as a model answer, praised by teachers across the state. And just like that, he became the revered genius scholar. And I became a cheater and plagiarist! Due to the severity of the “misconduct,” I was permanently banned from taking the exam. The school also refused to issue my high school diploma. Without a degree, my only option was to be a delivery guy. But customers would dump their orders on me and leave bad reviews just for fun. Because of me, my parents lost their jobs. The stress broke them. To pay their medical bills, I took a warehouse job sorting packages. Unfortunately, within days, my boss recognized me. He refused to pay me and even threw me out onto the street. With no money and hope left, I lost all reason to keep going.   On a snowy night, in complete despair, I plunged into a lake on the verge of freezing over. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in the week leading up to my college entrance exams. Staring at my sister, who was meticulously helping me prepare, and my childhood friend, who was eagerly trying to nourish me back to health, I felt a mix of emotions. “Denny, I made a list of all the possible essay prompts. If you study these, I guarantee you’ll get the perfect score!” Charlize said confidently as she placed a neatly compiled list of topics in front of me. Next to her, Geena teased me. “You better land that top spot, Denny. I’ve been feeding you hummus all week—don’t embarrass the chickpeas and tahini!” It was meant to be a joke, but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh. Charlize was my sister—she’d never stab me in the back. Geena had grown up with me—she had always been sharp-tongued but fiercely protective. In fact, once, someone talked shit about me, and she nearly got into a fight over it. So it couldn’t have been them. Then where did it all go wrong? I had been an outstanding student my whole life, consistently ranking first in my grade. Even after transferring to one of the most competitive schools in Illinois, I never dropped out of the top three. Mr. Carmichael, my homeroom teacher, even bet I’d land a spot at Harvard. That’s why, when the so-called academic dishonesty scandal broke, most of my classmates and teachers stood by me. I had won writing competitions before—I had no reason to cheat and plagiarize. But then, Clive leaked the security footage from the testing room. The video showed that he turned in his paper 10 minutes before I did. And before the test, he had posted his own “essay predictions” on his blog, breaking down the exact topic and themes. His essay followed the exact structure of his earlier post. For a while, the netizens’ nasty comments almost drowned me. [It’s caught in 4K! Denzel Witt straight-up stole Clive’s work! The evidence is undeniable, and that cheater still pretends he’s a victim?!] [I heard that that liar has always aced his class. Guess all his grades before were just stolen work that went unnoticed!] [Thank god his own sister and best friend didn’t cover for him. Imagine letting the real victim take the fall!] The scandal blew up so fast that it became trending.

The College Board took this matter seriously and immediately launched an investigation, analyzing the evidence Clive presented. After verification, the surveillance footage and blog posts were proven authentic, with no signs of tampering. They concluded that I was indeed a cheater and plagiarist. I was completely blindsided. I swear to god that essay was mine! How the hell was I the one who copied? But I had no proof to defend myself. And what I couldn’t figure out was—how did Clive’s essay turn out exactly like mine? Did the essay prompts that Charlize predicted somehow get to him? Mystery after mystery surrounded me. But right now, Charlize and Geena weren’t acting suspicious. If I wanted answers, I needed to start with Clive’s social media. If I remembered correctly, his essay prediction post should have already been up. But with Charlize and Geena keeping a close watch on me, I hastily scribbled down a rough outline of an essay to make myself look convincing, then clutched my stomach. “I… I need to use the bathroom,” I muttered. Geena shot me an unimpressed look. “Seriously? You still have a lot to study, Denny. Charlize basically handed you the potential topics, and you’re still looking for ways to slack off?” Charlize quickly waved my friend off. “Hey, there’s still time; give him a break. As long as he follows my advice, he’ll do well.” But I didn’t have much time to uncover the truth. Once inside the bathroom, I locked the door and pulled up Clive’s blog profile. It was well-known that his parents were professors at Harvard, and thanks to his looks and connections, he had a decent online following.   I never really had much connection with Clive. But Charlize was a teaching assistant at Harvard and Stanford, so she had met Clive a few times. Once, I overheard her telling Geena that Clive was the definition of boyfriend material—unlike me, who was just a bookish nerd. My sister also said that if Geena were going to date someone, it should be a guy like Clive—wealthy and good-looking. At the time, I thought Charlize was just joking. But looking back now, maybe she actually meant it. Even so, I still couldn’t understand—why would someone like Clive, practically born with a silver spoon, go out of his way to screw me over? Just then, I saw his latest post on his blog. He claimed he had predicted the essay topics for the SAT and was sharing it with everyone. The moment I saw it, I froze. That was the exact topic Charlize had predicted for me! On top of that, Clive even posted his own so-called “unique” insights about it. Word for word, they were identical to the notes I had casually jotted down on my scratch paper. The comments were full of people hyping him up. [Damn, not only is he hot, but he’s also insanely smart and generous! He even shares his SAT predictions with everyone! What a true angel!] [Seriously! If I saw this topic on the test, I would’ve gone completely blank. Good thing I read his analysis in advance!] Predicting the same topic might just be a coincidence. But how could his essay outline be exactly the same as mine? The only people who had been in my study room were Charlize and Geena. It had to be them! A chill ran down my spine at that thought. I couldn’t wrap my head around why they would do this. Was blood and years of friendship really worth less than knowing Clive for just half a year? I sat on the toilet for an hour, thinking it over. Then I made up my mind—I had to take a different approach. I already knew the essay topic for this year’s SAT. In my last life, I got accused of plagiarism, but that essay was actually my best work. It scored high, but not a perfect score. This time, I was going to write the essay in Old English. Since Clive’s essay had been an exact copy of mine in my last life, I’d just rewrite the whole damn thing! No matter the final score, at least I could shake off the plagiarism accusations. Early the next morning, before Charlize woke up, I snuck out and went to Grandma’s place. To be honest, I was hesitant. Writing my SAT essay in Old English was not only ridiculously hard but also a huge gamble. The moment I arrived, Grandma handed me a bowl of oatmeal. “My sweet boy, what’s wrong? You look troubled.” I forced a bitter smile. “Grandma, if I don’t get into Harvard, are you gonna be disappointed?” She patted my head, her eyes full of warmth. “Silly boy, of course not! “I just want you to be happy, Denny. Even if you don’t get in, you still have me. I’ll take care of you.” Hearing those words, my resolve hardened. As I left Grandma’s place, I got a call from Charlize. “Denny, where the hell did you go? Geena brought you breakfast, but you weren’t there. Now she’s upset!” I replied flatly, “I went out to buy some study materials. I’ll be back soon.” I wasn’t planning on telling them about my new essay strategy. After all, they were the prime suspects in the plagiarism scandal last time. Instead, I headed to the library to rework my essay plan. It was also the perfect place to do some research. After hours of writing, I stretched and leaned back for a quick break. I was curious—what would happen to Clive this time?   Just as I was lost in thought, Charlize and Geena walked in. I was a little confused—How did they know I was here? The next second, Charlize placed a warm lunchbox on my desk. “Figured you’d be too caught up studying to eat, so I brought you something.” Meanwhile, Geena handed me a cup. “Coffee. Your stomach’s weak, so it’s decaf.” Their sincerity was written all over their faces. They didn’t look like they meant any harm. Had I been overthinking things? But if it wasn’t them… then who?

My mind was a mess, but I managed to squeeze out a smile. “Perfect timing! I was just getting hungry. Let me wash my hands first, then I’ll dig in.” With that, I grabbed my phone and headed to the restroom. But instead of going into the men’s room, I stopped by the sinks and opened Clive’s Facebook blog. Sure enough, he had a new post. [Guys, you won’t believe it. When I shared my predicted essay topics for the SAT, someone straight-up copied my outline! The predictions might not even be right, but that’s just nasty. Anyways, I’m reworking my entire essay plan.] Attached was a photo of a guy studying in the library. Anyone familiar with me could tell—that was my silhouette! Just who on Earth took that photo?! In the comments, someone asked what Clive’s new essay plan was. Clive replied. [I’d write it in Old English this time.] I froze. I hadn’t told anyone I was planning to write in Old English! Even if it was just a coincidence, why would Clive choose a style he wasn’t even good at? There had to be a spy around me! Was it Charlize? Was it Geena? Or… were they both in on it? But why? What were they after? Just then, someone patted me on the back. “Denny, what are you thinking about?” That scared the hell out of me. It was Charlize and Geena. Since I hadn’t returned, they’d come to check on me, worried something was wrong. Still on edge, I brushed them off. “Uh, you guys go ahead. I’ll eat in a bit.” The moment the words left my mouth, Geena immediately snapped, “Denzel, we went out of our way to bring you food, and this is how you act? “Don’t think I haven’t noticed—you’ve been acting all suspicious around us these past few days! Seriously, it’s like we’re being treated like enemies!” Charlize quickly stepped in, “Geena just has a sharp tongue but a soft heart—don’t take it personally. “We know you’re under a lot of pressure. We just wanted to look out for you.” I quickly replied, “I know you guys mean well. Maybe I should just stay in my dorm for the next few days. Save you the trouble of coming back and forth.” Geena rolled her eyes. “Fine, do whatever you want. It’s not like I enjoy babysitting you anyway!” With that, she dragged Charlize, and they stormed out of the library’s study room. Finally, I let out a breath of relief. At 10:30 PM, I returned to the dorm. The moment I walked in, I heard my roommates talking about Clive. I went over to take a look. They were looking at a photo—three hands holding up drinks in a toast. The caption read: [Love from my sisters!] I recognized those hands instantly—Charlize’s and Geena’s. Since when were they this close? And why didn’t I know about it? I pulled out my phone to check Clive’s Facebook friends. But I Charlize’s and Geena’s comments on his new update caught my attention first. [You will always be my number-one heartthrob!] [Don’t worry, Clive. We’ll make sure you top the SAT!]   I blinked, doubting my own eyes. But the moment I refreshed the page, the post was gone. Now I know—the plagiarism really was connected to them. Reaching that conclusion didn’t stir much emotion in me. As long as I knew who was responsible, handling it would be easy. Besides, I had no plans to go home before the college entrance exams. Without me around, they wouldn’t be able to help Clive plagiarize anymore. I could finally focus on studying. Or so I thought—until I groggily woke up in the middle of the night to see Atlas Carlisle from the bed next to mine tiptoeing as he sneaked through my notes. I snapped awake, my voice sharp with anger. “Dude! What the hell are you doing?!” Startled, he fumbled and dropped the notebook to the floor. “The hell are you yelling for? Don’t think I don’t know—you’re the one who copied Clive’s work! “Sharing a dorm with a plagiarist like you? It’s disgusting! “Dude, you’re already being nice by not kicking you out. And now you’re here yelling at me? Damn, you really are uneducated.” Turns out, Clive had deliberately led his followers to dig up my personal information and post it in the comments section. Within moments, I was drowning in an onslaught of insults! Even my socials were flooded with harsh comments. Some guy even stuffed a dead rat into my food delivery! With no other choice, I turned to Mr. Carmichael. In my last life, when I was falsely accused of plagiarism, he was the one who stood up for me, rallying my classmates to stand up for me. Though we ultimately failed back then, he was the only person I could turn to now. As soon as he learned of my situation, he immediately arranged a private study room for me to prepare for the exams in peace. I could deal with everything else later. Finally, that damn Old English essay I had been working on was complete. The SAT was in two days—all I had to do was write it out on the test paper. I let out a long breath of relief—only for Clive to drop another bombshell. [Just a little secret between us,] his latest post read. [I finished my Old English essay!] The attached photo was a blurred-out notebook page. But even with the censoring, I recognized the last few lines of the essay immediately. They were identical to what I had just written! And worse—his post had gone up 10 minutes before I finished mine! I completely lost it, ripping my notebook to shreds. Was I seriously doomed to be plagiarized in every lifetime? Dammit! I just wanted to give up! Then, out of nowhere, my teacher called. [Congratulations, Mr. Witt! You got an early admission to Harvard!] That meant… I didn’t even have to take the SAT! Seeing the news, my exhaustion vanished in an instant. I didn’t know why things changed in this life, and honestly, I didn’t care anymore. With this guaranteed admission in my hands, I was going to make sure Clive, the serial plagiarist, paid for what he did! I told no one about my admission or that I wouldn’t be taking the exam. The night before the test, I revised my essay one last time. Clive really enjoyed cheating and plagiarising, huh? Fine. This time, I’d let him steal my work to his heart’s content. When the final test ended, he was the first to walk out of the hall. Outside, a massive crowd had gathered, including a few live-streaming influencers. As soon as he stepped out, they rushed up to him. “Hey, you look pretty confident! Bet you did great, huh?” Before he could answer, Geena chimed in. “Of course! He’s our class genius, our top student! He even guessed the essay topic correctly!” The livestream chat blew up, full of praise, saying he was definitely getting into Harvard. Clive grinned in satisfaction—until a group of cops suddenly stormed in and cuffed him on the spot. “Mr. Smolett, you’ve been reported for involvement in illegal activities. Please come with us and cooperate for the investigation.”

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On Father’s Day, I received the greatest gift—my one-year-old son called me “Daddy” for the first time. But in the very next second, my son suddenly convulsed all over, foaming at the mouth. Before we could even reach the hospital, he was dead. My wife Aurora Phillips broke down in tears, and I was heartbroken too. However, even the hospital couldn’t determine what illness had killed my son. Three years later, Aurora finally emerged from the shadow of grief, and we had our second child. But this child also died instantly after calling me “Daddy” for the first time. Worried that Aurora would be hurt again, I suggested we adopt a child. Yet even the adopted child died unexpectedly after calling me “Daddy” for the first time. Unable to bear the trauma any longer, Aurora asked for a divorce. Everyone said I wasn’t meant to be a father. But I refused to believe it, so I married Charlotte Ward and had a daughter, Emily Hall. I warned Charlotte never to let Emily call me “Daddy.” For years, our family had followed this rule. Until Emily turned four this year, she came home from kindergarten saying she wanted to celebrate Father’s Day for me. She pulled out a greeting card and said to me: “Daddy…” The moment I heard that word, my body froze completely. The next instant, I shot up from my seat, snatched the card from her hands, and looked around warily. Even though there was no movement around us, my violently pounding heart couldn’t calm down. I gripped Emily’s arms tightly with both hands. Emily was frightened by my reaction and cried out: “It hurts! Daddy, you’re hurting me.” “Shut up!” Overwhelming fear consumed me as I roared at Emily. Charlotte, hearing the commotion from the bedroom, rushed out to shield Emily in her arms, then yelled at me: “Jonathan Hall, have you lost your mind? Why are you doing this?” I trembled all over, cold sweat pouring out continuously. “Did you hear what she called me?” Before Charlotte could answer, Emily cried and questioned me: “Why can’t I call you that? Am I not your real daughter? My classmates all say I’m not your child, that’s why you won’t let me call you Daddy.” I wanted to explain, but I opened my mouth without knowing how to begin. I had once had three children, but they all died instantly after calling me “Daddy” for the first time. Their reactions before death were all different—the first child foamed at the mouth and convulsed all over; the second child suddenly fainted and collapsed to the ground. Without exception, they all died on the spot. Even after autopsy, doctors couldn’t determine what sudden illness had killed them. This ordeal once drove Aurora and me to the brink of collapse. We suspected genetic issues, since both children died around one year old. To prevent this from happening again, we adopted a child. When I first met her, that eight-year-old girl smiled and called me “Daddy.” But the next second, her smile froze on her face. As if suffering tremendous pain, her expression became twisted and grotesque. She spat out a mouthful of blood, then fell straight backward with her eyes wide open. The moment she collapsed, she had already stopped breathing. The scene immediately erupted into chaos. The orphanage director said in disbelief: “Impossible. This little girl has always been perfectly healthy, there couldn’t be any problems. Why would she suddenly die?” Instantly, everyone’s eyes turned to me. In the noisy crowd, someone quickly recognized me. He shouted: “Isn’t this the man whose two children died? This child’s death must be related to him. Otherwise, why would all these children die mysteriously after calling him ‘Daddy’ just once?” Countless gazes pierced me like needles as people demanded to know what I had done to the children. I froze completely in place, not even daring to look at the child on the ground. I shook my head frantically, saying I hadn’t done anything, but the people around me simply wouldn’t believe it. Then the police arrived. After months of investigation, they determined that the little girl had died from a sudden severe illness. But what exactly that illness was, the hospital never provided an answer. Although the police cleared my name, my marriage to Aurora had reached its end. Everyone said she was a poor woman, then pointed at my nose and cursed, saying I must have done something wrong, that I didn’t deserve to be a father, which is why each of my children died unexpectedly. Some people even said online that I’d never be able to have children in this lifetime. I had an emotional breakdown and wanted to leave this world. But my loving parents, Jaxon Hall and Nora Hall, desperately stopped me from seeking death and found me a therapist. Through treatment, I regained hope for life and remarried to have children again. After marriage, Charlotte and I gradually settled into a normal life and had our adorable Emily. Ever since Emily was born, I absolutely refused to let her call me “Daddy.” She lived safely to age four, and I had almost forgotten the feeling of a child suddenly dying in front of me. But Emily’s single “Daddy” completely awakened my nightmare. Before I could recover from my terror, Charlotte’s furious gaze fell upon me. She roared: “I think you really do have mental problems, insisting on tormenting Emily like this! Seeing her get called a bastard every day, called a child from a broken home, does that make you happy? She called you ‘Daddy,’ didn’t she? She’s fine, isn’t she?” Hearing Charlotte’s words, I realized that after Emily called me “Daddy,” nothing bad had happened. I rushed over to Emily excitedly, looking her up and down thoroughly. After confirming Emily was perfectly fine, I could hardly believe it. Had the curse on me finally lifted? After the initial joy, I didn’t dare relax and insisted that Emily stay within my sight today. But Emily, who had just been yelled at by me, quickly hid behind Charlotte. “Mommy, I don’t want to be with Daddy.” Charlotte frowned and glanced at me. “Don’t get so worked up.” Then, ignoring my attempts to stop her, she turned and took Emily to the bedroom to sleep. But the moment the bedroom door closed, Charlotte’s scream came from inside. I rushed into the bedroom like a madman, then saw Charlotte holding Emily’s lifeless body. My child was dead again.

I stood there in numb shock, watching Charlotte sob as she held Emily, blood streaming from her nose and mouth. When the paramedics arrived, they informed us that Emily showed no signs of life. “That’s impossible. My child has always been healthy. How could she just suddenly die?” Charlotte screamed hysterically. The doctor looked at me with a complicated expression. Charlotte became even more furious. “I don’t believe she died just from calling out ‘Daddy’ once. I demand an autopsy. Even if it was a sudden illness, I need to know exactly what kind of disease it was.” After the lights in the autopsy room went out, the doctor sighed and said, “We couldn’t determine what sudden illness caused the child’s death.” Looking at Emily’s small body covered in incisions, Charlotte’s eyes were bloodshot as she confronted me: “Why? Why did Emily suddenly die so mysteriously after calling out ‘Daddy’ just once? What did you do to my child?” Facing her accusations, I could only shake my head: “I really don’t know why she died. She’s my child too. I want her alive more than anyone else.” I collapsed to the floor in despair. The people around me showed no sympathy, whispering among themselves. One man said: “When his first two children died, I felt sorry for him. Now I see he deserves it. He knows he can’t have children, yet he keeps having them. His ex-wife Aurora remarried and now has a healthy son and daughter. The problem must be with him.” A woman said: “I’m starting to suspect he’s directly involved in these children’s deaths. Otherwise, why would he keep having children when he knows they might die?” Another woman added: “Even if he didn’t kill them, maybe his enemies deliberately killed his children to get revenge on him.” Another man sighed: “Actually, his wives and children are the ones who suffer most.” When Jaxon and Nora rushed over, they found me sitting on the ground, weakly defending myself. Gray-haired Nora protectively stepped in front of me and addressed the crowd: “Everyone, the police have already investigated. The child truly died from a sudden illness. We failed to take proper care of the child. This has nothing to do with Jonathan.” Nora then quietly begged everyone to leave me alone. The onlookers sneered: “Nothing to do with him? If one child died from sudden illness, that wouldn’t be strange. But why do all his children die this way? And they all died right after calling out ‘Daddy’ once. Even the doctors can’t identify what disease this is. How can so many coincidences keep happening to Jonathan?” Charlotte suddenly looked at me with a cold laugh: “Jonathan, do you really not know why Emily died?” Before I could respond, Nora said to Charlotte: “Charlotte, we’ve wronged you, but this truly has nothing to do with Jonathan. I know you’re heartbroken over the child’s death, but Jonathan is hurting too. Let’s go home and talk this through, okay?” Charlotte violently shook off Nora’s arm: “How long are you going to keep protecting Jonathan? When his three children died mysteriously before, you begged people on camera not to discuss it too much, afraid it would affect Jonathan. This monster could actually bear to watch you two plead with others, and you still want to protect him.” Charlotte sneered as she looked at me: “Jonathan, would you rather watch your parents, at their age, humble themselves and beg everyone like this than tell the truth?”

When Charlotte spoke, everyone’s eyes immediately focused on me. A man said, “The truth? Looks like there’s definitely more to this story. After all, how could all his children die in such bizarre ways?” A woman asked, “So what is the truth?” Everyone looked at Charlotte, but her questioning gaze was fixed firmly on me. I gave a bitter smile. “You want me to tell the truth? Don’t you think I want to find out the truth about my children’s deaths? They were my children—I loved them more than anyone. But I really don’t know why they suddenly died every time they called me ‘Daddy.’” Charlotte slapped me hard across the face. “I can’t believe you’re still lying.” She pointed at Emily’s body. “This isn’t our child at all. I’ve already seen Emily—she’s actually not dead at all, is she? Jonathan, where did you hide Emily? Give me back my child!” Everyone around us was stunned by Charlotte’s words. After all, Emily’s body was right there. They all thought Charlotte was hallucinating from grief. But the next second, they suddenly understood why Charlotte would say such a thing—because Charlotte pulled out surveillance footage. In the surveillance video, Emily had gone to kindergarten normally today and was still there now. Instantly, everyone’s eyes turned to the body covered with a white sheet. If the girl in the surveillance footage was Emily, then who was this corpse? Before I could figure it out, Charlotte continued, “Jonathan, I don’t understand why you’re doing this, but give me back my child. Which kindergarten is she at? When did you switch her out? Give her back to me!” I said, “I didn’t—” I was about to explain when Nora suddenly shouted, interrupting me. Then she turned to Charlotte and said, “Charlotte, I’m so sorry. I can’t bear the guilt anymore. I have to tell you the truth. You’re wrong—that girl in the surveillance footage really isn’t Emily. This dead girl is the real one. Because I know how she died.” “What?” Charlotte’s eyes widened instantly, her face pale as she approached Nora. Nora pointed at me. “It was him. Jonathan killed his children with his own hands. He’s had XYY syndrome since childhood. When he was little, he killed countless cats and dogs he raised by throwing them to their deaths. But I never thought he’d be cruel enough to murder his own children. His father and I tried to stop him, but he always said it would be the last time. We’re guilty too! Jonathan is our only child, so we kept covering for him. But Charlotte, I can’t bear to watch you go crazy looking for your child. Emily is dead, and she was indeed killed by Jonathan’s own hands.” Everyone around us was stunned, and it took a long time before anyone reacted. A man said in shock, “Did I hear that right? Jonathan killed his own children with his bare hands? Why would he do such a thing?” Charlotte stood frozen, staring at me stiffly. All I could do was weakly defend myself. “No, I didn’t.” Charlotte demanded harshly, “Everyone knows your parents love you dearly. How could they possibly frame you? Jonathan, why did you kill my children?” I looked desperately at Jaxon and Nora, but they looked pained as they urged me, “Jonathan, you’ve already done enough wrong. If we keep covering for you, we won’t be able to live with ourselves.” I stared at them in disbelief. Why? Why would Jaxon and Nora, who had always loved me, lie to frame me? I tried to explain, but everyone around believed that Jaxon and Nora, who loved me so much, couldn’t possibly be framing me. A bystander who couldn’t stand it anymore punched me in the face, cursing, “You animal! You actually killed your own children! How dare you stand here pretending to be innocent?” A woman shouted, “Even if the law sentences you to death, we wouldn’t think it’s excessive. Someone like you should be tortured to death!” A man chimed in, “Exactly! I’m so furious. Today, I’ll beat you to death for your children!” The crowd, believing Jaxon and Nora’s words, surrounded me and beat me mercilessly. I knew nothing I said would matter, so I just let countless fists rain down on me. Just when I was in despair, I glanced again at the child on Charlotte’s phone screen and suddenly froze. I finally understood why every child died after calling me “Daddy.”

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Reborn back to Christmas 1977, I, Julia Welch, locked eyes with my best friend Lucy Harris. We embraced tightly, crying as we declared we were calling off our engagements. Everyone thought we’d lost our minds, but only the two of us knew the truth—in our previous lives, on this very day, I had married high school teacher Harrison Stewart, and Lucy had become the wife of battalion commander Justin Stewart. That Christmas, Harrison secretly stole my college acceptance letter for his beloved Natalia Lawson, letting her take my place at university. I was mocked for supposedly failing to get into college, while Harrison turned a blind eye. After our marriage, every time he touched me, he would write Natalia a love letter as penance: “Natalia, even if I can’t be with you in this lifetime, you will forever be my only spiritual love.” My own children even saw me as an uneducated country woman, repeatedly urging me to divorce voluntarily so Harrison and Natalia could be together. Lucy, the factory director’s daughter, was swindled out of all her savings by Justin under the pretense of buying a house. Only when she fell seriously ill and tried to sell the property did she discover that the deed Justin had given her was fake—he had already bought Natalia a house in New York with cash. The price of one of Natalia’s dresses equaled Lucy’s entire monthly salary. When Lucy begged Justin to return her money, she was met with scolding and her children’s indifference. Justin said, “All you care about is money, while Natalia never covets wealth. No wonder you’re getting what you deserve.” Her child said, “Exactly. Only someone as kind and noble as Miss Lawson deserves to be my mother.” We both toiled our entire lives only to end up with nothing, dying in anger and frustration. Now that we’ve been given a second chance, I’m going to college, and she’s going to become wealthy. Without our help, they still think they can live the good life? Dream on! ***** The once-lively courtyard suddenly turned awkward and tense as Lucy and I embraced, crying and announcing our broken engagements on the spot. Guests whispered among themselves, their words filled with confusion and disapproval. Everyone knew the Stewart twins had bright futures ahead of them. If not for their prior engagements, many girls would have wanted to marry them. But as I held Lucy close, all I felt was relief and gratitude at breaking free from our bonds. In everyone else’s eyes, the Stewart family was an excellent choice. But to us, they were clearly bottomless pits. In this lifetime, anyone else could marry them—it certainly wouldn’t be us. Harrison and Justin never expected us to break off our engagements publicly. Their faces turned ashen with rage. Harrison, wearing a white shirt, furrowed his brow on his delicate, scholarly face. “Julia, marriage is a lifelong commitment. With all these people watching, don’t make a scene. The banquet is about to start, and now you’re talking about calling off the engagement. You’re just upset that I helped Natalia with a few math problems, aren’t you? Do you really need to be so petty?” I let out a cold laugh. He shouldn’t have brought that up—I’d almost forgotten about it. Harrison had once volunteered to tutor me. But every time he called me over, he would apologetically say, “Let me go check on Natalia,” and then disappear. Back then, he deceived me by claiming Natalia’s grades were too poor and she needed help more than I did. It wasn’t until decades later at a drinking party that I learned the truth from a drunk Harrison. Natalia had begged him not to let me score better than her, so he came up with this scheme to hold me back. When I still managed to get into college, he hatched the plan to use my acceptance letter for Natalia’s substitution. What had I done wrong to deserve such scheming? Just because I admired Harrison? Just because I studied better than Natalia? I could have had a bright future, but they destroyed it all. The thought deepened the hatred in my heart. “That’s right, I am petty, and you’re just realizing this today? We’re both taking the exam, and I’m your fiancée, yet every time you ask me to come study, you end up getting called away by Natalia. Do you have any idea how much precious time you’ve wasted? Stop using excuses like ‘she needs more help’ to brush me off. Her future matters, but mine doesn’t?” In my past life, I always considered Harrison’s feelings, afraid of upsetting him, so I never spoke these words. That’s exactly why everyone mocked me when my admission was stolen. This time, I won’t foolishly cover for Harrison anymore. My accusations rang out clearly, and the gossiping neighbors instantly fell silent, looking at Harrison with confusion. Just as I said, I was his long-promised fiancée, and with exam prep time so tight and precious, how could he do this? Harrison couldn’t explain himself, his face flushed red as he stammered an apology: “I didn’t think it through, Julia, I’m sorry. But marriage isn’t trivial, and the exam results aren’t even out yet. You can’t call off the engagement over this, can you?” I was about to say I wouldn’t marry him when suddenly a strong force from behind pushed me toward Harrison. I barely managed to steady myself without falling into his arms. Turning around, I saw my parents standing there, their faces full of displeasure. My father said, “Julia, enough is enough. Don’t make people think we’ve spoiled you rotten.” My mother added, “Exactly, think long-term. If you miss out on someone as outstanding as Harrison, you’ll regret it.” Hearing my own parents say such things, my heart still clenched painfully. In my past life, when I still had a shred of self-respect, I had actually considered divorce. But when I shared this thought with my parents, they tore into me, saying I was ungrateful, that every woman goes through this, and as long as I was a good wife and mother, my husband and children would eventually come around. After that, I never mentioned divorce again. But why couldn’t I have a better life? Did I really have to depend on Harrison? I said, “I don’t want to marry him. If you like him so much, then you go marry him!” After saying this, I turned to leave. But my parents exchanged glances and each grabbed one of my arms tightly. My father said, “I think we’ve spoiled you too much. So many guests have already arrived. Today, whether you want to or not, this wedding is happening.” My mother said to Harrison’s parents, “Sorry about this, she’s going through a rebellious phase. Just lock her in the room and that’ll do it.” I struggled desperately, crying and pleading, but my parents remained completely unmoved. In their eyes, I simply didn’t know what was good for me. Harrison Christmas had become a high school teacher at such a young age, while I was just a recent graduate whose college admission was still uncertain. This marriage was me reaching above my station. They locked me in a dark room. Lucy, who also refused to marry Justin, suffered the same fate. Though her family was well-off with her father being a factory manager, she had a younger brother. Apart from a wedding gift they’d already prepared for her, everything else in the family would go to her brother. Staring at the locked door, Lucy and I exchanged glances, both our eyes filled with despair. I crouched miserably in the corner, and Lucy quietly crouched down beside me. In this cramped, dark space, we huddled together, as if returning to our previous life. Only we truly understood each other’s pain. She sighed softly, “People always say that unloved girls have no home once they marry. But it seems like we already have no home even before getting married.” I sighed too, “We learned this lesson in our last life. We can’t rely on anyone but ourselves.” The banquet outside continued, with no one caring about how we two brides felt. Everyone was congratulating Harrison and Justin, blessing my parents, and celebrating with Lucy’s parents. But what exactly was there to celebrate? Since we’d been given a second chance at life, we absolutely wouldn’t live as pathetically as we had in our previous life. Thinking of all the misery from our past life, I shook my head, “No, wait. We do have an advantage this time.” Lucy rolled her eyes, “We’re locked up, can’t fight them, and can’t escape. What advantage do we have?” I patted her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “In our last life, we knew nothing. But this time, we already know what Harrison and Justin really want. And I remember clearly that after the wedding banquet, we never actually got our marriage certificates. How about we play along with their game?” The Stewart family couldn’t keep us locked up forever. When the banquet ended, the door finally opened. Harrison stood in the doorway, his face flushed with alcohol, his usually handsome features tinged with red. He asked, “Have you had enough of this tantrum? If you’re done, then be a good wife to me, and we’ll live peacefully together.” He raised his hand to touch my head, and I instinctively wanted to dodge. But I forced myself to stay still, putting on a timid, pitiful expression, “Will you really treat me well from now on?” Harrison smiled and said, “Of course. You’re my wife. If I don’t treat you well, who else would I treat well?”

I tugged at the corner of my mouth. I learned one truth in my past life—men’s words can’t be trusted. Before getting his acceptance letter, Harrison had put on quite the act of loving me. I pretended to believe his words, following him out with a mix of shyness and tenderness, playing the obedient role. Lucy watched my expression and couldn’t help but want to laugh, her shoulders trembling slightly. She only restrained herself when Harrison turned back to ask her to get something from Justin’s room. Over the next period, Lucy and I found an excuse, claiming we had our periods, to avoid those things that shouldn’t have happened. Perhaps because they still wanted to use us, or maybe out of some guilt, Harrison and Justin actually acted like decent husbands. The day Natalia came, the four of us were gathered together tending to the vegetable garden. Harrison helped brush away my scattered hair, while Justin laughingly fanned Lucy, who was sweating from the heat. Seeing this scene, Natalia’s smile clearly faltered. Fortunately, Harrison and Justin noticed in time, immediately standing up and creating distance, which eased her expression. She said, “Julia, Lucy, sorry to intrude. I need to discuss something with Harrison and Justin.” I couldn’t help but want to laugh. Her tone was so intimate—her intentions were way too obvious. How had I not noticed her little schemes in my past life? Lucy clearly showed similar confusion. But neither of us called her out, just watching as Harrison and Justin eagerly followed her into the house. Before leaving, Natalia made sure to give us an apologetic smile: “I’ll just borrow them for a little while—you don’t mind, do you?” She was clearly expecting us to show disappointment or resentment. But we just smiled cheerfully at her. What was there to mind? We’d gotten used to this kind of thing in our past lives. I said, “Don’t mind at all—feel free to use them however you want.” Natalia was momentarily speechless, like throwing a punch into cotton with nowhere to land. When she turned back and saw that Harrison and Justin’s expressions looked oddly displeased, her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly urged them inside. Lucy and I stood in the courtyard, both unconsciously rubbing the goosebumps that had risen on our arms. No choice—we still had to endure for a while longer. Natalia coming to us actually suited our purposes perfectly. We didn’t need to think hard to know that the timing was about right—she was here about the acceptance letter and money. After chatting for a few minutes, she hurriedly said goodbye and left. Of course, she carried with her the food Harrison had insisted she take, along with the hair ribbon Justin had just picked out for Lucy. The three of them stood at the door in a reluctant farewell, then turned to find Lucy and me watching with knowing smiles. Harrison explained somewhat frantically, “It’s not what you think. My mom adopted Natalia as her goddaughter—Justin and I are just looking out for our sister.” Both men felt uneasy, afraid we might throw a tantrum. After all, they both knew Natalia had taken food I liked to eat, and Lucy had wanted that hair ribbon for a long time. But we still wore smiles. I said calmly, “Since she’s your goddaughter, of course you should take good care of her. It’s fine.” Seeing their relief, Lucy and I quietly exchanged a glance. We knew our opportunity had come. In my previous life, my acceptance letter arrived at this exact time. And it was also at this time that Justin asked for money to buy a house. During this period, Lucy and I had been very compliant with them, making it seem like we had returned to our former state of being unable to live without them. When I said I was going grocery shopping, they didn’t suspect anything. Before I left, Harrison said to me gently, “Julia, thank you for all your hard work. Go buy some spinach—I remember you love spinach the most.” I love spinach? That was from my previous life. Ever since Natalia stopped liking spinach, our family hadn’t touched the stuff for thirty or forty years. No matter how much I once loved it, I had long since gotten used to not eating it. I calmly agreed, but as soon as I stepped out the door, I took a different route. Instead of going to the market, I headed straight for the school. Acceptance letters were always sent to the school in batches. Harrison would definitely intercept my mail. Using the excuse of picking something up for him, I successfully entered his office. Harrison’s office was neat and clean. Only one cup stood out as particularly exquisite, completely out of place among the other furnishings. I remembered this cup vividly. In my previous life, Harrison had always treasured it like a precious gem. Even after retirement, he would only drink from this cup at home. Later, when I accidentally broke it while mopping, he flew into a rage and slapped me across the face. I felt so wronged and wanted to explain, but even my son frowned and told me how precious that cup was. Because it came from Natalia. I looked away expressionlessly and pulled open Harrison’s drawer. My fingers brushed past several love letters he had written to Natalia, and I accurately pulled out my acceptance letter that was pressed at the very bottom. I opened the envelope directly, stuffed the contents into my jacket, then found a piece of paper, wrote a few words, and resealed the envelope. After finishing all this, my heart was beating a bit faster, so I quickly left the office. At the school gate, I sat under a tree, waiting anxiously for a long time until I finally saw that familiar figure. I said, “Lucy, you scared me to death. I thought you wouldn’t be able to get out.” Lucy had practically jogged over, out of breath. Hearing this, she rolled her eyes. “It’s all that bastard Justin’s fault!” she said through gritted teeth. “I was afraid he’d get suspicious. When he said he wanted money to buy a house, I refused no matter what, and he spent ages trying to convince me. “He’s usually so dull, but when it comes to Natalia’s affairs, he’s particularly attentive. “After getting the money, he even said he’d buy me a silver bracelet. Julia, do you know? In my previous life, right up until I died, he never kept that promise.” That silver bracelet had simply been taken by Natalia after she took a liking to it. I sighed softly and gently patted her shoulder. “Don’t think about it anymore—it’s all in the past. Did you get the money?” Lucy said, “Of course I did. This time, no one’s going to touch my money!” As she spoke, she linked her arm through mine. The light in her eyes was no longer dim and lifeless; instead, it seemed to hold tiny points of starlight. She said, “Julia, let’s go—to a broader world!”

Harrison and Justin returned home, standing at the door for a long time, hesitating to enter. The door that usually opened with just a gentle push now felt as heavy as a thousand pounds. Justin sighed softly: “Did we go too far?” Although they had no romantic feelings for Julia and Lucy, they were married after all and would spend their lives together. A trace of guilt appeared on Harrison’s face, but when he thought of Natalia’s excited and delighted expression when they gave her those things, he felt it was all worth it. After all, when they were children, Natalia had saved both his and Justin’s lives without asking for anything in return. She was so kind and wonderful, she deserved the best of everything in the world. He said: “Don’t overthink it. At worst, we’ll make it up to them more in the future. Besides, Julia and Lucy love us so much, they’ll understand us.” He looked down at the fish in his hand, thinking that Julia had just gone grocery shopping, so he could make a nutritious dish. She was too thin and needed to nourish her body properly. Harrison knew in his heart that he wasn’t completely indifferent to Julia. Years ago when their engagement was arranged, he already knew Julia would become his wife. Standing beside him was Justin, looking dazed, his hands empty – the bracelet he had originally bought for Lucy had been given to someone else, no wonder he felt so guilty. Harrison suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of superiority and pushed open the door with a relaxed mood. However, the house seemed unusually empty for some reason. Looking carefully, he realized that neither Julia nor Lucy was anywhere to be seen. Harrison’s heart tightened inexplicably. Just then he saw his mother Freya Stewart coming home and hurried forward to ask: “Mom, did you see Julia?” Freya was startled: “Didn’t she go grocery shopping? She’s not back yet? Then who’s going to cook?” Justin also showed a worried expression: “What about Lucy? She’s not here either?” Freya said: “Oh, she seemed to say she was going back to her family’s house after you two left. What’s wrong?” Hearing this, Harrison and Justin’s faces instantly turned pale. The uneasy premonition in their hearts seemed to be coming true. Without bothering to answer Freya’s question, they turned and ran outside, preparing to look for Julia and Lucy. But just as they took a few steps, they ran straight into Natalia, who had come rushing over in anger. Her small face was flushed red, and in her hands she clutched the acceptance letter and money that Harrison and Justin had just given her. Both men’s hearts immediately sank. Just as they were about to ask what had happened, Natalia couldn’t wait to speak: “Harrison, Justin, Julia and Lucy are playing us! Look what these are!” Harrison stared blankly at the items in her hands. Inside the acceptance letter envelope was only a piece of paper. On it was written: [Stop fantasizing about things that don’t belong to you. As for those two pieces of trash, you can have them back.] The handwriting was wild and sloppy – Harrison recognized Julia’s writing at a glance. Justin also stared at the money. He clearly remembered that Lucy had five hundred dollars, which was all the inheritance her father had left her. But now, that money had been replaced with a single penny. Harrison and Justin looked at each other, seeing terror and unease in each other’s eyes. It was over, everything was over. They actually knew everything!

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My husband Charlie Watson forced me, Ember Schmidt, eight months pregnant, to accompany his mistress Luna Lynch on a bungee jumping trip. I silently agreed. In my previous life, Luna was in a bad mood. To cheer her up, Charlie offered to help fulfill one of her wishes. Luna said her greatest wish was to have someone bungee jump with her. Despite being afraid of heights, Charlie immediately agreed and insisted I come along. When I refused on the spot, citing my pregnancy, Luna became dejected and eventually went to a bar to drown her sorrows. At that bar, she was drugged and lost her innocence. Afterward, devastated by the trauma, she left a suicide note and chose to end her life. [If I hadn’t gone to the bar that day, would everything have been different?] Upon reading the note, Charlie grabbed my throat and roared: “Why didn’t you agree to go bungee jumping with Luna? Would you have died if you’d said yes?” He strangled me to death with his own hands, and my unborn child died with me. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Charlie demanded I accompany Luna bungee jumping. ***** At this moment, we stood on the outdoor bungee platform. I huddled in the farthest corner, gripping the railings tightly, my eight-month pregnant belly feeling especially heavy in the harsh weather, making it hard to breathe. The bungee safety equipment on my body looked unreliable, making my face grow even paler. Meanwhile, Charlie standing opposite me showed no concern for my condition. His tender gaze was entirely focused on Luna, who had insisted on bungee jumping today. Luna clung to Charlie coquettishly: “You’re so good to me. Every time I’m upset, you’re the one who helps me vent my emotions. You’re the closest person I have in this world.” Charlie gently embraced her: “Don’t worry, Luna. No matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side, so you don’t need to fear anything.” The two gazed into each other’s eyes with deep affection, as if only they existed in this world. Just then, a gust of wind struck, causing the bungee platform to shake violently. I involuntarily staggered, drawing gasps from the surrounding crowd. “My God! Coming to bungee jump with such a big belly—does she have a death wish?” “Pregnant women should stay home. Coming out in this weather—isn’t she afraid of miscarrying?” “Some women are just irresponsible, not caring about the child in their belly. When something goes wrong, it’ll be too late to cry!” Hearing these comments, Charlie looked at me with even more disgust: “You heard them, right? Pregnant women like you are trouble wherever you go. I really regret bringing you out here.” Luna quickly interjected: “Charlie, don’t be angry. After all, Ember did drug you just to get pregnant with your child. Don’t blame her too much.” Then she lowered her head, feigning distress: “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t developed depression, I wouldn’t have wanted to relieve stress through bungee jumping. Maybe we should just forget about today—Ember doesn’t seem too willing anyway.” “No way!” Charlie refused outright, staring at Luna with determination. “I promised to help fulfill your wish. Today, you’re definitely going to bungee jump successfully.” Then he turned to me, his gaze ice-cold: “Ember, if you hadn’t announced your pregnancy when Luna was heartbroken, how would she have gotten depression? She’s so unhappy now, and it’s all because of you. If you have any conscience left, hurry up and jump with her to fulfill her wish.” Only then did the surrounding people understand I was being forced, and their looks toward Charlie became complicated. The bungee platform staff also frowned, unable to help but intervene: “Sir, pregnant women aren’t suitable for bungee jumping, especially with such a large belly. What if she miscarries? Our scenic area can’t take responsibility for that.” “Whether she lives or dies, it’s her choice and has nothing to do with anyone else,” Charlie coldly interrupted the staff member. He shoved a bungee liability waiver into my hands, his tone harsh: “Sign it and jump!” Those few short words made me see clearly the undisguised disgust and indifference in his eyes. He looked at me as if I were trash that urgently needed disposing of. I calmly took the agreement and signed my name expressionlessly. Having experienced the tragic death in my previous life, I had long understood how ruthless this man I once loved deeply could be. He didn’t love me, nor did he love the child in my womb. Since that was the case, I no longer needed to cling to him. I would grant his wish and completely disappear from his world. I handed the signed agreement to the staff member and, under Luna’s gaze that barely concealed her malice, walked step by step toward the edge of the bungee platform. Just before leaping down, I turned back to look at Charlie and said: “Charlie, this child—I’m giving it back to you.”

A flicker of panic crossed Charlie’s eyes when he heard those words. He stepped forward, about to ask me something, when Luna suddenly rushed over and grabbed my arm. “Ember, I’m jumping!” Since Luna had chosen tandem bungee jumping, she and I were tied to the same rope. The moment she leaped, I was yanked down like a stone. The violent descent made me weightless instantly, and my already aching abdomen was hit with a wave of excruciating pain. Despite being mentally prepared, I couldn’t help but cry out: “Ah! It hurts!” But the next second, Luna’s excited voice drowned out my screams: “Wow, this is so thrilling! So this is what bungee jumping feels like! My wish has finally come true—I’m so happy!” She closed her eyes and spread her arms in bliss, like a bird soaring free. Meanwhile, my abdomen grew more and more uncomfortable under the impact of the rapid descent, until suddenly a tearing pain struck. I looked down at my pants and sure enough, found blood seeping through. “Stop! I’m in pain!” I couldn’t help but shout. But to Luna, who was immersed in excitement, my words were nothing but a buzzkill. She glared at me impatiently: “Ember, your acting is way too fake. Charlie can’t even hear what you’re screaming about from that distance. What are you pretending for?” Her body bounced up and down with the bungee cord as she shouted triumphantly in my ear, while I was tortured by the excruciating pain, barely able to breathe, let alone argue back. The baby in my belly seemed to sense the danger too, kicking frantically as if trying to burst through my skin. I hung upside down in mid-air, my legs tightly bound by the rope, the blood rushing to my head making both me and the child inside suffocate. I waved my hands desperately: “Pull me up! I… I can’t take it anymore!” The staff on the bungee platform seemed to notice something was wrong and picked up a megaphone to shout: “What’s happening? Is the customer feeling unwell?” I was already drenched in sweat and was about to use my last bit of strength to respond when I heard Luna beside me yell: “Higher! One more round—it’s not thrilling enough yet!” The staff member was stunned and asked again in disbelief: “Are you sure you want another round? That pregnant woman looks like she’s really suffering.” I managed to say weakly: “I can’t…” Before I could finish, Charlie coldly told the staff: “I’m the one paying. When I tell you to do another round, just do it. What’s with all the chatter? If Luna doesn’t have fun, I’ll file a complaint against you!” Seeing this, the staff didn’t dare say more and immediately operated the equipment for another round. Luna screamed even more excitedly, while my abdomen became increasingly unbearable, as if my uterus was being torn apart and blood might gush out at any moment. ***** I don’t know how much time passed before Luna finally had enough. The staff pulled me back onto the platform. By then, I could no longer feel any fetal movement. My belly, which had been prominently rounded at eight months, now hung limply. I was completely drained, left with nothing but agonized wails: “Save me! It hurts so much! My baby…” Even though I had prepared myself to give up everything, when true despair arrived, survival instinct still made me cry out for help involuntarily. But Charlie acted as if he couldn’t see me at all, immediately embracing Luna: “Luna, how are you? Were you scared? Are you happy?” Luna nodded happily, then glanced at me with feigned casualness: “I wasn’t scared, Charlie. But Ember seemed pretty scared—she kept shouting that she was going to miscarry.”

Charlie’s face darkened when he heard this, and he sneered, “Miscarriage? How many times has she claimed she was ‘going to miscarry’ since getting pregnant? Isn’t the baby still fine?” With that, he walked over to where I lay sprawled on the ground and looked down at me condescendingly. “Get up and get out of here. Don’t hold up other people’s bungee jumping.” I was already pale with pain, unable to utter a single word. I could only tremble as I grabbed onto his pant leg, pleading for help: “Please, call an ambulance for me. I’m dying…” Seeing this, Charlie’s expression grew even uglier. He kicked his leg sharply to shake off my hand and sneered coldly, “No wonder Luna said you’re such a good actress—she wasn’t wrong. You’re in such good shape, who are you putting on this show for? You’re not even half as good as Luna.” A nearby tourist, seeing my pained expression, couldn’t help but intervene: “Sir, your wife seems to be in real distress. Maybe you should call an ambulance?” Charlie frowned and finally bent down to take a closer look at me. But before he could see clearly, Luna’s weak cry came from behind him: “Charlie, I feel so dizzy.” Before she finished speaking, she collapsed gracefully. Charlie immediately rushed over and caught her steadily, his eyes full of concern: “Luna, what’s wrong? Were you scared just now? Quick! Call an ambulance! I’m taking you to the hospital right away!” As he spoke, he had already scooped Luna up and was rushing down from the bungee platform. From an angle Charlie couldn’t see, Luna—who had just appeared so fragile—shot me a provocative look filled with mockery and triumph. I endured the excruciating pain and stared intently at their retreating figures. I felt as if something inside me was being torn apart, and blood suddenly gushed out, completely overwhelming my body. Suddenly, screams erupted all around. “Blood! So much blood!” “Oh my God! Why is this woman bleeding so much down there? She’s hemorrhaging! Call an ambulance!” “With all that blood, she’s going to die!” Amid the chaos and screaming, I gradually lost consciousness, feeling as if I was on the brink of death. Several kind-hearted tourists and staff members found a stretcher and carried me down from the bungee platform. My lower body was soaked in blood—the scene was horrifying. Someone couldn’t bear to look and covered me with a piece of clothing. When they carried me down to the base of the platform, an ambulance had just arrived. Without hesitation, Charlie carried Luna toward the vehicle: “Quick, doctor, get us to the hospital right away!” “Wait!” A staff member from the bungee platform couldn’t stand it anymore and blocked the ambulance: “This pregnant woman here is in more serious condition—save her first!” He then directed people to carry me toward the ambulance. When Charlie saw me approaching, his emotions exploded instantly, and he shouted angrily: “Ember, are you never going to stop? Luna caught a cold from the wind and feels a little unwell, and you just have to steal the ambulance at this moment? You’re putting on quite the performance, even getting people to carry you over here. You make me sick!” I lay on the stretcher in a daze, wanting to wave my hand in explanation, but I didn’t even have the basic strength to do so. The doctor was also confused by Charlie’s words and frowned as he asked: “There’s only one spot in the ambulance. Who called first?” “I did!” Charlie answered urgently, holding Luna as he tried to get into the vehicle, urging the doctor: “Drive to the hospital now, don’t pay attention to that lunatic!” The staff member beside us couldn’t take it anymore and stepped forward to confront him: “What do you mean ‘putting on an act’? Your wife really did faint and lost this much blood, and you won’t even look at her. Instead, you’re being all lovey-dovey with your mistress!” Luna, who had been hiding in Charlie’s arms, heard this and wiped her tears pitifully: “It’s okay, Charlie, don’t fight with Ember over this. She can take the ambulance—I’ll be fine.” As she spoke, she put on another display of dizziness, as if she were about to collapse again. Charlie’s heart ached terribly. He held her even tighter and roughly pushed my stretcher away: “No way! As long as I’m here today, Ember will absolutely not get on this ambulance!” Just as he finished speaking, Sophia Fuller, a nurse who had arrived with the ambulance, lifted the clothing covering me and cried out in alarm: “Oh my God! Contact the hospital to prepare for emergency surgery! This pregnant woman has miscarried and is hemorrhaging severely—it’s extremely dangerous!” Charlie froze, his entire body going rigid.

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After my father died, my mother remarried, taking me and my sister Mia Lawrence with her. But my stepfather Richard Stanford would only allow my mother to bring one of us children. I learned from those mourning my father that my grandfather Henry Lawrence was an antique collector and very wealthy. Mia clung to grandfather, refusing to let go. But my grandfather only made her study hard, keeping her food, clothing, and expenses extremely frugal. Meanwhile, Richard’s business flourished, and he moved me into a grand mansion. I was even engaged to a wealthy young master. She went mad with jealousy, doused me with gasoline, and we both returned to that moment of choice. This time she gripped Richard’s hand tightly. “I want to stay with Mom and Dad.” I quickly ran behind my grandfather. “Mia, if this life is just a bargaining chip at the dinner table, then I’ll give it to you!” ***** Mom looked at me and Mia with difficulty. “Evelyn, Mia, which one of you wants to come with me? The other will stay and live with Grandfather.” Mom looked at me, then worriedly at Mia. Mia had always been closer to her since childhood, so naturally she wanted Mia to come with her. Under Mom’s expectant gaze, Mia proactively grabbed Richard’s hand. “I want to go with you!” And I ran behind Grandfather, grasping his calloused hands. Facing me, Mia’s lips curved upward in a mocking expression. I knew she must have been reborn just like me. In my previous life, after my father died, we also faced this same choice. But Mia had heard at my father’s funeral that Grandfather was an antique collector, so she chose Grandfather without hesitation. Before leaving, she said to me smugly: “I’ll soon be living the good life with Grandfather, while you’ll be stuck helping Richard babysit like a nanny.” But when she got to Grandfather’s house, it was nothing like the classical estate she’d imagined. Just one house, a yard full of dirt, and a beat-up old pickup truck. The antique jewelry collection she’d imagined—she searched everywhere but couldn’t find any. She went to ask Grandfather, only to receive his angry rebuke: “Who told you I collect antiques? You’re still young—studying is the most important thing for you.” While others played in the fields during summer vacation, she could only read those obscure, difficult books in her room. She wanted to dress up nicely to go out, but she wore the same old clothes year after year. Grandfather just tended his garden and played cards with neighbors. The money he gave her was barely enough for daily meals. Meanwhile, Richard’s business grew more and more successful. We moved from subsidized housing to a large apartment, then from the apartment to a villa district. Soon the Stanford family name became well-known. I wore elegant gowns with perfect makeup, appearing with Richard at various high-society gatherings. Everyone who met me praised my gracious manner and good breeding. I attended an elite private school and traveled everywhere in luxury cars. When Mia was brought over during winter break, she wore faded old clothes. My stepbrother Hector Stanford buried his head in my mother’s arms: “Who is she? She smells!” At the dinner table, Richard and I discussed which balls to attend next week, what etiquette classes to take next, and he told Mom to take me shopping for more beautiful clothes. Mia tried to join the conversation but found she couldn’t break into our discussion. She cried pitifully: “I should be a daughter of the Stanford family too! Why does she have everything while I have nothing?!” Richard frowned at my mother: “Why did you bring her here? When we’re discussing serious matters, where do you get off interrupting?” Mia thought my mother would defend her, but instead Mom said: “If I wasn’t afraid of people gossiping, saying I forgot about my other daughter after becoming successful, why would I bring her back? Sigh, children raised in the countryside really do turn out this petty.” That day Mia broke many things, and Richard decided to throw her out. In the end, it was Grandfather who drove through the heavy rain in that old pickup truck to take her back.

After Mia returned, Grandpa never allowed her to sneak over to see us again. Richard also told my mother to stop caring about Mia, that useless waste of a daughter. So Mia could only stay at Grandpa’s house, supervised by him daily as she studied. When the SAT scores came out, she did well and rekindled hope of returning to Stanford Villa. Overjoyed, she came to Stanford Villa with her acceptance letter in hand. But when she arrived at Stanford Villa, no one paid attention to her. Because today was my farewell party. Richard had already pulled strings to send me abroad to study. The hair clip in my hair, the bracelet on my wrist, the necklace around my neck—everything was sparkling. All of this stung Mia’s eyes. She struggled through the crowd, trying to show my mother and Richard her acceptance letter. But Hector pushed her to the ground. “Where did this beggar come from? Where’s security?” After Mia was pulled up, Mother finally recognized her. Her acceptance letter fell to the ground and was trampled to pieces. My mother only had someone release her, then never spoke to her again. Mother took my arm and chatted with various CEO wives. I was gracious and charming, delighting them all. “Your eldest daughter really is something—so poised and elegant. Whoever marries Evelyn will be truly blessed.” “I heard you have a younger daughter too. How is she?” Mother waved dismissively. “Better not to mention her. She’s as annoying as her grandfather.” Mia stood awkwardly to the side, watching me move through every corner of the hall. I held a wine glass, chatting enthusiastically with wealthy young men by the buffet table. Richard clapped his hands, and the entire room fell silent. He took my hand and led me to the stage. “My daughter is eighteen now, and it’s time I let her go out and make her own way in the world.” With that, Richard smiled as he handed me a bank card. “Study abroad, and make sure you take good care of yourself!” A picture of deep father-daughter affection. Then James Fulton walked onto the stage. He gently knelt on one knee and kissed the back of my hand. “I’ll wait for you to come back.” When James stood up, Richard placed my hand in his and announced the true purpose of this farewell party. “When Evelyn returns from abroad, she and James will be engaged.” Everyone applauded their congratulations, while some wealthy young men sighed with regret. “But James really is impressive—so young and already closing so many big deals. He’s practically surpassing his father.” Mia’s eyes revealed hatred as she stared at me like a venomous snake. She felt all of this should have been hers—she should be the one enjoying a life of luxury, she should be the one getting engaged to an outstanding man! That night, I received a text from Mia asking me to chat with her. “Evelyn, I’m in so much pain. I miss you.” I casually threw on a jacket and went to our agreed meeting place. Mia turned to look at me with a crazed expression, holding a bucket in her hands. “If it weren’t for you, all of this would be mine!” She splashed the liquid from the bucket on me, hugged me tightly, then threw the lighter. “Evelyn, if I can’t live well, neither can you. Let’s die together!” Both of us perished in the flames, and once again I returned to that moment of choice. This time, she chose Mother and Richard first. Before leaving, she came over to hug me and whispered mockingly in my ear, “Go ahead and rot in the ground with that old relic! You damn pauper!” Riding in Grandpa’s old pickup truck, I arrived in the countryside. It certainly wasn’t as nice as the city, but it wasn’t as terrible as Mia had described either. Grandpa had already prepared a room for me in advance. My room had a wooden bed, a wooden desk, and a wooden bookshelf. The room was filled with the scent of wood, which made me feel very comfortable. I opened my suitcase—there wasn’t much inside, so I finished organizing quickly. Grandpa had already returned from working the fields, carrying a piece of meat in his hand. Though he said nothing, I knew he had bought it especially for me. Grandpa wasn’t good with words, but he kept urging me to eat more. “After you eat, go wash the dishes. There’s no dishwasher on this farm!” Before he finished speaking, I had already started washing the dishes. Grandpa grunted. “The road ahead is long, and today doesn’t count as hardship. Since you’re with me now, there’ll be plenty more suffering to come!”

I knew he was the type who acted tough but had a soft heart. The next day, after I sneezed from catching a cold, I found an extra blanket on my bed that evening. The bookshelf Grandpa had prepared for me was packed with books, mostly history texts that looked particularly old—some didn’t even have covers anymore. Grandpa strictly demanded that I read through all of them. But history books were really boring and hard for me to understand. In the evenings, Grandpa would pull me to sit in the courtyard under the starry sky, telling me heroic stories. Gradually, I became interested. Occasionally, Grandpa would also teach me how to identify different soil layers. When I got it wrong, he’d scold me for being stupid, but he would secretly record my mistakes in his little notebook. Though life was modest, Grandpa treated me extremely well, even if he never expressed his love for me directly. He worried that a girl like me would struggle without her mother’s companionship, so he often asked available women in the village to look after me. Winter break passed quickly, and school was about to start. Late at night, I could still see him scrubbing the mud stains off that old pickup truck. Grandpa dropped me off at the school entrance, and before I even walked through the gates, I spotted Mia and Mom. Mia stepped out of a luxury car, carrying a designer bag, pulling Mom along like a proud swan. When Mia saw me, she enthusiastically came over to grab my hand but stopped abruptly in front of me, covering her nose. “Evelyn, why do you smell like cow manure?” I covered my nose too, because her perfume was overwhelming me. Mia put on a surprised expression. “Evelyn, how come you’re taking a cattle truck to school? Didn’t you say your grandpa was an antique collector? I just rode in a luxury car worth millions of dollars!” Then she casually greeted some wealthy kids getting out of their luxury cars. Mia turned to look at me. “Evelyn, you and I aren’t from the same world anymore. Richard takes me to all kinds of parties every day, unlike you who can only stay on that broken farm.” She stepped on my shoe. “Your shoes are so dirty. Mine cost hundreds of times more than yours. You should feel honored that I’m stepping on you.” I didn’t get angry. I crouched down and cleaned my shoe with my sleeve, then looked at her calmly. “Are you trying to take out all the frustration you get at home on me?” Mia laughed angrily. “Frustration? I’m having a great time every day—how could I be frustrated! You should worry about yourself!” But I could see the discomfort in her eyes—I had hit a nerve. After school, I was doing homework in my room when I heard knocking at the door. I opened it but only saw a shoebox on the ground. The grandson of the elderly neighbor lady went to my school, and yesterday I heard him begging for new shoes, saying he’d need them for PE class when school started. Before I could say anything, the shoes were already at my door. I felt incredibly warm, and suddenly tears wet my face. When I lived at Stanford Villa, Richard only cared about profit—there was no genuine affection there. Teenagers’ stomachs are fragile to begin with, and every day after school, Richard would bring out various types of alcohol and force me to drink. With each glass, I had to say something flattering. On weekends, I also had to learn “ballroom dancing.” Their so-called ballroom dancing involved finding the right angles while dancing to let men see what they wanted to see, allowing them to take advantage. I asked Mom if this wasn’t a sign of lacking self-respect. But Mom stroked her belly and said coldly, “This is all to cultivate you. Can’t you be more understanding?” They made me pour drinks for those wealthy men, satisfying their hidden desires. Only this way could Richard negotiate business deals with them. Even my marriage was something they had arranged. James appeared polished and glamorous on the surface, but privately he was a degenerate. I was pushed around like a gambling chip at their drinking parties, often waking up in pain in the middle of the night. Even when I had stomach bleeding, they’d just give me an injection and drag me to another cocktail party. A semester passed, and summer vacation arrived. Mom rarely contacted Grandpa, but now she wanted to bring me back. I knew they wanted to buy land and do business with the big boss Victor Hughes. Bringing me back was just to highlight how exceptional Mia was. It was the same in my previous life, and it had gotten Mia’s hopes up for nothing. I didn’t want to go back, but I was afraid they’d keep bothering Grandpa, so I went along. Victor was an upright man. In my previous life, Richard tried to bribe him using his usual tactics, which ruined the deal, and back then he blamed me for it. But he wouldn’t hit me because he still needed to use me—he’d just punish me by not letting me eat for several days under the excuse of maintaining my figure. Richard had originally arranged to meet at the banquet hall, but the boss brought Richard directly to the plot of land. Mia wore an ultra-short skirt, her legs covered with red welts from bug bites, yet she still had to maintain her smile. Victor asked Richard, “You want to buy this land?” Richard nodded eagerly, but then heard Victor ask again, “Do you know what this place used to be? Do you know what this soil represents?” They stammered and couldn’t answer. Suddenly, I remembered a story Grandpa had told me: “This used to be a cemetery. The soil color looks like it’s been settled for a long time—the history must go way back.” Victor’s eyes lit up. “Who taught you that? Mr. Stanford, I didn’t expect your daughter to know how to read soil layers. Such knowledge!” This was from one of Grandpa’s stories—I never thought I’d be praised for it. Richard still hadn’t figured out Victor’s true intentions and pushed Mia forward: “Evelyn’s always been in the countryside, what knowledge could she have? Let Mia chat with you instead!” Victor then realized why Mia was dressed that way and got a bit angry: “I’m not selling this land! And don’t think I’m the kind of sleazy person you take me for!” After the unpleasant parting, Richard brought us home with a dark expression. Mia cried pitifully: “If it weren’t for Evelyn, I definitely would have succeeded. She deliberately sabotaged everything!” Mom chimed in from the side: “I should have known better than to bring her back. The moment she comes home, she ruins the family’s big plans!” Richard flew into a rage, slapping me across the face and pulling out his belt to whip me: “You jinx!” It hurt so much. The more I resisted, the harder he hit. I even thought I might be beaten to death right there. As I lost consciousness, I seemed to see an upright figure. I wondered if I was hallucinating. Why did this person look so much like Grandpa?

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My husband Nathan Carter and his twin brother Ethan Carter were in a plane crash, leaving one dead and one injured. When I rushed to the hospital, I saw the surviving Ethan passionately kissing his wife Sophia Bennett. Meanwhile, my husband lay forever in the morgue. In my grief, I accidentally fell down the stairs and lost the child I had been hoping for these past three years. Three years later, just as I was beginning to accept the fact that Nathan was dead, I overheard his close friend confronting Ethan: “How long are you planning to keep pretending to be your brother and deceiving Emily? She’s your wife!” Ethan adjusted his glasses, his tone cold: “I promised Ethan I’d protect Sophia for life. I am Ethan now. As for Emily, consider it a debt I owe her in this lifetime—I’ll repay her in the next.” So it was actually Ethan who died in the crash. But my husband, using his identical face, had naturally taken it upon himself to care for his brother’s widow—the goddess he could never reach before. What did that make me, spending these three years clinging to old memories? “Emily, I’m pregnant. Please help me with the wedding ceremony. It’s been three years since Nathan died, and Ethan and I have delayed this wedding until now. I don’t want to shortchange myself.” I walked downstairs in a daze, only to be stopped by Sophia’s outstretched hand. She touched her belly, her face glowing with the happiness of impending motherhood. If this had been half an hour ago, I would have genuinely blessed her. But now, knowing the truth, I could no longer remain calm. I refused her directly: “You should hire a wedding planning team. If something goes wrong with the wedding, I can’t take that responsibility.” “What are you two talking about? Sounds lively.” A tall man approached, naturally wrapping his arm around Sophia with intimate familiarity. This scene was like a knife stabbing my heart, each moment bringing excruciating pain. “Sophia asked me to help oversee the wedding, but I told her to find a professional team. After all, I’ve never organized a wedding—I lack experience in that area.” After speaking, I stared at the man before me, wanting to see his reaction. But I was ultimately disappointed. His expression showed no guilt whatsoever, not even a flicker of emotion. Of course—he’d been performing this act for three years. How could he slip up now? If I hadn’t accidentally overheard those words outside the study, I probably would never have known that he’d been deceiving me completely for three years. He had shamelessly impersonated his twin brother, rightfully claiming his brother’s widow as his own. And that car accident that broke my heart three years ago was nothing more than his scheme to capture his true love! Nathan affectionately tapped Sophia’s nose: “Just hire professionals for the wedding. Don’t make things difficult for Emily. Besides, I don’t want any problems with our wedding.” Sophia knocked her forehead in frustration, looking at me apologetically: “Emily, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it through. I forgot that you and Nathan never had a wedding. Please don’t be too sad…” I smiled bitterly, suppressing my grievances and anger, and said slowly: “I’ve been sad for three years—that should be enough. Being a widow has its advantages too. So much freedom—I can leave whenever I want.” Nathan and I had been together for seven years. Though he always introduced me to his friends and family, he never wanted to get married. Later, he finally knelt down with a ring to propose. I was so excited that night I couldn’t sleep. Even though the ring was just a simple band, I convinced myself he truly loved me. Only now do I fully understand—he proposed because Ethan and Sophia had set their wedding date. He had delayed marrying me because he still harbored fantasies about Sophia. From beginning to end, I was just a tool to be remembered only when needed. Nathan grabbed my hand, ignoring Sophia’s presence, and demanded harshly: “You want to leave?!” His reaction was so abnormal that Sophia tugged at his sleeve in confusion: “What’s wrong with you?” Looking at the raging anger in his eyes, I found it utterly ridiculous. What right did he have to question me? I pushed his hand away, my tone flat: “I don’t owe your brother anything. He’s been dead for three years. Haven’t I given enough of my youth—three whole years?” These three years, I lived in agony, wishing I were dead. But he spent three blissful years with Sophia, and now they even had an unborn child. Yet no one cared that I once had a child too. Three years ago, when I learned of Nathan’s fatal car accident, I was so devastated that I accidentally fell down the stairs. I nearly died that day, and I lost my child. Nathan knew all of this. But at the time, he was completely consumed with joy at winning Sophia—he couldn’t comprehend my pain at all. He truly loved Sophia that much. But now I refuse to be a supporting character in their love story anymore. I want to leave. I want to get far away from them both.

“Who says you don’t owe Nathan anything! You owe him his life!” Nathan’s mother, Margaret Carter, walked over with her cane, glaring at me viciously. Before I could react, she slapped me hard across the face. “If Nathan hadn’t rushed back to celebrate your birthday, I wouldn’t have lost my son!” My cheek went numb, and my ears were ringing. But none of that mattered to me. What mattered was what she’d just said. Nathan wasn’t rushing back to celebrate my birthday at all! I covered my face and looked at Sophia. She frantically clutched Nathan’s arm, hiding behind him. And Nathan shielded Sophia completely. In that moment, I understood everything. Three days before Christmas, Sophia had threatened to break up with Ethan because he couldn’t be with her for her birthday—he had to go abroad for contract negotiations. She’d even arranged to go camping at the beach for three days and nights with a group of male friends. After Sophia announced this on Instagram, Ethan bought the earliest flight back, and Nathan decided to come back too. I knew about this. Nathan knew. Sophia knew too. I never imagined they’d already pinned all the blame on me. “Mom, Emily was just speaking off the cuff. If she wanted to leave, she would’ve left before Christmas. She’s family, and family shouldn’t blame each other—we should support one another.” Nathan stepped in to ease the tension. But Margaret continued glaring at me. “She and Nathan only got a marriage license—they didn’t even have a wedding. She’s not his wife yet, so what kind of family is she! She’s nothing but bad luck!” Margaret’s harsh words echoed in my ears. I smiled at Margaret. “You’re right, I am bad luck and don’t deserve to stay in this house. I’ll leave right now.” Seeing this, Margaret suddenly clutched her chest, acting like she couldn’t breathe. Nathan’s face darkened with anger as he grabbed my hand and yanked it hard. “Emily, Mom was just speaking in anger. Do you have to make a big deal out of everything!” Sophia supported Margaret and yelled at me, “That’s right, Emily! No matter what, you can’t talk back to Mom like that.” I loosened my fingers, revealing the bright red handprint on my face. “Then what should I do? Let her insult me? Let her slap me again? You all know the truth—should we lay it all out right now?” “Emily!” Nathan suddenly shouted sternly. I looked at him with reddened eyes. His expression flickered, as if he still had some feelings for me. Suddenly, I felt a glimmer of hope. Could Nathan have his reasons? “Emily, you know Mom’s health isn’t good. Why say things to upset her? Just apologize to Mom, and don’t talk about leaving anymore.” Instantly, that indescribable feeling in my heart vanished completely. How foolish I was to believe a liar could turn over a new leaf! “Apologize?” I nodded and said matter-of-factly, “You’re right, your mom should apologize to me.”

After Nathan died in the plane crash, I stayed at Carter Villa to take care of his mother Margaret. But Margaret had disliked me from the day I married Nathan. After Nathan’s death, she would often curse at me, calling me a jinx. Despite living in the twenty-first century, I lived like a slave. I had to get up at five every morning to help her wash and dress. When she ate, I had to stand beside her and serve. If there was anything that displeased her even slightly, I would be verbally abused. I lived this way for three whole years. While Sophia only showed concern for Margaret in words, Margaret was extremely fond of her. I bore it all without complaint, wanting only to pour my love for Nathan into caring for his family. If I hadn’t accidentally overheard the truth just now, I would probably have lived this painful life forever. Recalling Margaret’s behavior over these years, I looked at Nathan calmly and asked sincerely, “For three years, your mother has never treated me like a human being. I’ve lived worse than a dog. Shouldn’t she apologize to me?” “Emily…” Nathan hesitated, his words unfinished when Sophia’s shocked cry came from nearby. “Margaret, what’s wrong?” Margaret had fainted in her arms. Nathan couldn’t spare time to question me and hurriedly picked up Margaret to rush her to the hospital. Before leaving, he stared at me with sharp eyes: “Emily, I’m only holding back from confronting you out of respect for my brother. But no matter what my mother did, you can’t speak to her like that! You’d better pray nothing happens to my mother, or you’ll regret it!” At that moment, I really wanted to applaud Nathan. I wanted to praise his acting skills. Even now, he still didn’t forget to put on a show! “Your mother should really learn from you about what real acting looks like.” I dropped this line, let out a cold laugh, and went upstairs to pack. I didn’t see the surprised and suspicious expression Nathan showed because of my words. I didn’t have much luggage. Two hours later, I put the last piece of clothing into my suitcase. Someone knocked on the door. I opened it to see Nathan standing outside with something in his hands. “Emily, we just went to the hospital. The doctor said my mother is fine, so I came to let you know. I also want to apologize to you. About what happened three years ago, Sophia already knows she was wrong. She was young and timid, unable to face my mother’s anger. Could you please not tell my mother?” As Nathan spoke, he placed a bottle of perfume on the table. “I heard from my brother before that you like perfume. This bottle is from Sophia’s collection, consider it her apology gift. I hope you won’t hold it against her.” I looked down at the perfume on the table. I immediately recognized the familiar serial number on it. Three years ago, I had posted multiple hints on Instagram about liking this perfume. Before our anniversary, I saw a perfume box in Nathan’s car and naturally assumed he had bought it for me. On our anniversary, I only received a scarf—an utterly perfunctory gift. The perfume I thought was meant for me had actually been given to Sophia three years ago. I picked up the perfume, its bottle cold against my skin, like my heart at that moment. Even though I knew Nathan had no feelings for me, seeing everything he could do for Sophia still made my heart ache involuntarily. I pushed the perfume back into his hands. “I stopped liking perfume three years ago. I can agree to help keep the secret, but you need to answer one question for me.” Nathan was startled and instinctively asked, “What question?” I looked up, staring intently into his eyes, and said word by word: “About the plane crash three years ago—what else are you hiding from me?”

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While the killer was stabbing me left and right, my dad was stitching up a teddy bear for my sister, one careful stitch at a time. He ignored every desperate call I made for help. “Super busy right now, don’t bug me unless it’s big.” Days later, Dad, a forensic pathologist, was teaching his students using a female cadaver he dissected himself. “The victim faced brutal treatment before her death, clinging fiercely to life until her last breath.” He opened up the cadaver and then sewed it back together, allowing each student to practice from sunrise to sunset. He identified every injury on the body but failed to realize, this body was me—his own daughter he resented so deeply. **** They found my corpse in a sewer shaft. A badly decomposed body reeking of death. The police, along with my Dad, the seasoned medical examiner, rushed to the scene. Upon arrival, Dad expertly handled my battered body, instructing his students to take down vital scene details. “The deceased is a young female, her face destroyed by sulfuric acid. We’ll need to gather DNA to identify her.” After assessing the situation, Dad took off his gloves. “Take her back for an autopsy.” His student nodded, moving to place me in a body bag, but the sight of my acid-disfigured face nearly made him sick. “Ugh…” Dad shook his head, “Can’t stomach it?” The student excused himself to vomit then returned pale-faced. “It’s not about handling it, sir, it’s just that this lady’s fate was too harsh…” Dad glanced again at the body bag holding me, nodding dispassionately, “Yeah, it’s a tough one.” Years as a medical examiner had numbed him to the horrors of death. But Dad, if you knew it was me, would you still be so composed? I watched them transport my body back to the police station and onto the autopsy table. Hovering above, I silently observed Dad as he donned a mask and gloves, preparing meticulously for the autopsy. Disinfecting, arranging, bowing, incising. The cold scalpel sliced through my body, causing even my soul to shudder involuntarily. It didn’t hurt. Compared to the thirty-seven stab wounds on my body, this was nothing. Dad’s movements were precise and skilled as he examined and noted each wound. He held my head, examining my face closely. Suddenly, he sensed something was amiss, his finger brushed my ear. I have a mole under my earlobe; he used to know about it. Dad touched the mole with his hand, and as he pondered, the students entered. Dad quickly turned around, pushing the thought aside. He removed his gloves and told the students, “This corpse is quite instructive, it’s rare to see one this decomposed. Have a go yourselves.” The students crowded around me, the harsh light from the autopsy table reflecting the cold steel of several scalpels. I no longer felt any pain and could only watch as Dad walked out of the autopsy room step by step. So close, Dad. You were so close to discovering that the body you were dissecting was your own daughter.   When the autopsy report was released, even the seasoned police officers furrowed their brows. The report stated clearly: [The deceased was a young woman under twenty-five, who had suffered severe abuse and multiple fractures before death.] Although stabbed thirty-seven times, none of the wounds were fatal; the actual cause of death was suffocation. After death, her face was disfigured with concentrated sulfuric acid, and all her fingerprints were erased. The head of the criminal investigation team, Tony Smith, closed the autopsy report with a mix of sorrow and anger, “Son of a bitch, absolutely inhuman!” Dad’s expression remained neutral, his years in the field having cultivated a remarkably calm demeanor. “Our first order of business is to find the killer and identify the victim as soon as possible,” he stated. Captain Smith, noticing a pink thread on Dad’s sleeve, queried, “Where did this come from?” A soft smile briefly crossed Dad’s typically stern face as he pocketed the thread. “Sophie’s teddy bear lost an ear, and I sewed it back on recently.” Tony looked astonished. “Your hands that dissect corpses can also mend toys?” Dad shot him a wry look. “Stitching is my specialty, you know that.” Tony smirked. “Sophie’s getting old for a teddy bear, isn’t she?” Dad stood up, his tone firm, “No matter her age, she’s still my little girl. And she’s been without her mother since she was young. I owe it to her to make up for that loss in any way I can.” As he was about to leave, Tony caught his arm. “Harper, you’ve got two daughters. You’re great with Sophie, why not show Emily some of that kindness?” At the mention of my name, Dad bristled and pulled away. “Don’t bring her up! She’s no daughter of mine!” Tony sighed, “I know you’re still torn up about your wife’s death, but Emily was just a little girl back then, it wasn’t her fault…” “Enough!” Dad cut him off sharply, “Intentional or not, wasn’t it all her doing? She killed her mother! She’s wrecked Sophie’s life, she’s been nothing but a curse on our family, I will never forgive her!” Dad stormed out, leaving Tony behind. They had been comrades for years, but because of me, he showed no mercy. My ghostly form crouched on the ground curled up. Oh, how I wished I could tell him – I didn’t kill Mom…

Unable to leave this world just yet, I followed Dad all the way home. Upon arrival, I saw Sophie rushing toward Dad with her pink teddy bear, beaming with joy. “Dad, did you fix this bear?” He caught her in a steady embrace, his smile warm and tender. “I did fix it. Do you like it?” “I love it! You’re the best, Dad!” They sat down to a cozy dinner, father and daughter, exuding warmth and affection. Sophie stirred her food and asked nonchalantly, “I haven’t seen my sister in a while. I wonder what she’s up to now?” Dad’s smile turned cold instantly. “Focus on your meal. Why bring her up? Even if she’s dead outside, it’s none of our concern.” Sophie, trying to soften him, replied, “Dad, you shouldn’t talk like that… she’s still my sister.” Dad slammed his forks down, “She doesn’t deserve to be your sister! You are my only daughter.” Sophie wrapped her arms around Dad, patting him soothingly. “Okay, Dad has only one daughter, and that’s me. I won’t bring her up again.” Dad finally calmed down and nodded in agreement. Sophie glanced at the family photo on the wall. My face was covered by a sticker in that photo. She smiled slightly to herself, content that Dad had affirmed her place. Only if I vanished from this world could she live without a shadow over her.   The year Sophie was born was filled with joy for our family. My parents told me, as the older sister, to treat Sophie as precious as the apple of my eye. Ever since I was a child, I would let her have the best of everything, placing her needs above my own life. Sophie relied on me heavily, always saying I was the most important person in her world. So when she accidentally knocked over a candle and set the house on fire, she sobbed, begging me not to reveal the truth. At fifteen, I carried my ten-year-old sister out of the blazing house, my legs scorched by the flames. I thought I had done something heroic, but we were unaware that our mother, who had just come home from a night shift, was asleep in the bedroom. My mother perished in the fire. It wasn’t until after the firefighters extinguished the flames that they discovered her charred remains. When Dad learned what happened, he broke down and blamed me entirely. “It’s all your fault! How could we have raised a daughter who would bring such tragedy? You’ve killed your own mother!” I was left defenseless, with only my tears to speak for me. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t my fault, that Sophie was the one who had lit the candle. But I had promised Sophie I would keep her secret, especially as she was hospitalized with severe trauma from the fire. I couldn’t say a word, could express nothing. In the pouring rain, Dad left me behind, as if I were nothing more than a stray dog. Eventually, Tony couldn’t stand by and watch; he took me in. I was barred from attending my mother’s funeral and was not allowed to say goodbye. I bowed deeply towards the direction of the crematorium until my forehead bled. I know I failed my mother and my father. And after the funeral, Sophie hugged me. “Thank you for not ruining my life,” she whispered. She also cautioned me, “The incident is in the past now. Don’t ever bring it up with Dad. Keep to the story as we’ve told it.”

Only the dead keep their secrets, a fact both Sophie and I knew all too well. Maybe her desire to kill me started years ago, but I never saw it coming. I thought taking the blame could heal our family, and maybe get us back to the good old days. But as time went by, Dad’s hatred for me only deepened. So on the anniversary of Mom’s death, I’d vanish for a while, this year included. Early this month, I moved in with my childhood buddy, Kelsey, to avoid upsetting Dad. But then, out of the blue, I got a call. It was the kidnappers, demanding ransom for Sophie. Sophie screamed on the phone, “Emily, save me!” She insisted, “Come alone, or they’ll kill me!” Being a forensic pathologist’s daughter, I was mentally prepared for such scenarios. I went alone with the ransom to the specified abandoned factory. There, I found Sophie, unharmed, standing with several burly men she had hired. My blood ran cold. Sophie pointed at me and coldly ordered, “That’s her, get rid of her, and leave no trace.” My own sister, whom I’ve cared for all my life, ready to betray me so cruelly. What happened next is a blur. In extreme pain, people tend to forget. All I remember is not wanting to die, desperately gasping for air. I struggled, leaving a trail of blood as I crawled, trying to call Dad for help with my smartwatch. The calls went through but were disconnected repeatedly. Dad wasn’t answering. Sophie’s hired thugs smashed my watch, taunting, “Still trying to call for help? Are you asking for death?” “The boss said it’s all fair game, just finish her off!” They stabbed me mercilessly, and broke my arms and legs as I tried to crawl forward. But I still clung to life. There was something I still hadn’t told Dad…

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Kathy Holman, my only sister, fell head over heels for The Prince of the Capital’s Elite Circle at first sight. Just to create an opportunity, she didn’t hesitate to drug him at a banquet. I didn’t stop her at that time. In fact, I even gave her a hand to deliver the drugged drink. To top it off, I thoughtfully booked a luxurious suite to carry out for her plan. In my previous life, I tried to intervene when I saw her spiking the drink, warning her that the Miles Family wielded so much influence, both in the legal and underground worlds. That means, messing with them would be equal to courting death. That night, however, Chester Miles ended up spending the night with another woman. By the next day, he was engaged with said woman in a flash announcement. My sister said nothing out loud about it. On the way home, however, she pushed me off an overpass. I was killed on the spot, my body crushed under a speeding truck. In my final moments, she screamed at me, accusing me of ruining her chance to marry into a wealthy family. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the banquet on that fateful day. This time, I was determined to watch her dig her own grave! ***** As I watched Chester drink the spiked wine, my sister stood at a distance, her eyes gleaming with scheming satisfaction. Within two minutes, the drug kicked in. Chester’s face flushed unnaturally red. His private bodyguards immediately stepped in, supporting him as they escorted him upstairs. I gave my sister an “OK” gesture and handed her the room key. I was about to slip away when she grabbed my arm. She whispered with threatening tone, “Don’t think I don’t know what’s on your mind! You’re not going anywhere until the job is done!” “Stay outside the room and keep watch for me! If Mr. Miles’s people show up, you’d better know what to say and what to keep to yourself!” This time, I didn’t stop her. I wanted to see just how far she could go with her schemes. My sister thought I would try to stop her; it was what I did in my previous life. Instead, this time around, I let go of her hand. Glancing at the bodyguards who had already taken notice of her from afar, I smiled and said, “Relax, you’re my sister. If I don’t help you, who else will?” “When you marry into the Miles Family, just don’t forget about this sister of yours, alright?” In my past life, she was convinced that I had ruined her chance to marry into wealth, blaming me for her failure and my gruesome death. This time, I won’t stop her. I’d even help her every step of the way. Let’s see how far she can push her luck! Kathy didn’t think twice about it. Tossing her head back, she smirked proudly. “At least you know your place. Once I marry into the Miles Family, I’ll get you a driver or a secretary job. That should keep you fed and clothed for the rest of your life!” “When we get upstairs, keep your mouth shut. If anyone asks, just say you’re a server waiting for Mr. Miles’s instructions. And if you ruin my plans, you know the consequences!” Her sharp gaze pierced through me as she grabbed my wrist and dragged me upstairs with her. The bodyguards stood at the door as my sister made an excuse about delivering water and went inside. I stayed hidden at the end of the hallway, keeping a close watch. Not long after, a heavy thud came from the room. Moments later, Kathy was dragged out of the room, unconscious, by a group of men. Five bodyguards, wearing lecherous grins, dragged her into the room next door. Seeing this, I let out a sigh of relief and clapped my hands, ready to leave. Suddenly, a heavy blow struck the back of my head. Everything went black and I lost consciousness. When I came to, my limbs were tied to the bedposts with silk ribbons. In front of me was Chester’s sweat-drenched face. My eyes widened in shock and I opened my mouth to call for help. Before I could, he silenced me with a kiss, his lips pressing firmly against mine. “Don’t think I don’t know there was something wrong with that drink tonight,” he said, his voice cold and dangerous. “Since you delivered it, you can deal with the consequences…” My cries for help were muffled as the room was filled with heated breaths. I struggled fiercely, using every ounce of strength I had, but it was futile. Whatever drug Kathy had found worked too well—Chester didn’t stop until morning. When he finally fell asleep, I endured the pain coursing through my body, quietly untying myself and slipping back into my clothes. Chester was infamous for his ruthless and vengeful nature. I wasn’t foolish enough to stick around like Kathy would. After carefully erasing any trace of my presence in the room, I made my escape.   Before leaving, I glanced toward the room where Kathy was dragged into. The door was left ajar, revealing a glimpse inside. Clothes from the five bodyguards were scattered across the floor. Kathy lay unconscious on the bed, completely out cold. I tried not to make a sound and quietly scrambled from that place away. When I got home, my parents rushed up to me eagerly. Not seeing Kathy with me, their faces immediately darkened. “Sarah, where’s your sister? Why are you back alone?” Remembering how, in my previous life, this family had blamed me for ruining Kathy’s “opportunity” and didn’t even bother to claim my body after my death, I no longer cared to be polite. “Maybe she overdid it with the drugs. Mr. Miles is probably still… occupied with her,” I said flatly. My mother’s scowl instantly melted into a delighted smile. “I knew it! Kathy is someone who can make things happen, unlike certain people—useless and nothing but a money drain after twenty years of raising them!” My father didn’t even spare me a glance, immediately urging my mother to start cooking a nourishing soup. “Make sure it’s ready when Kathy gets back. If she drinks it, she’ll be able to have a son for Mr. Miles.” Too tired to argue, I slumped onto the couch to rest. Just as the soup began simmering, Kathy walked into our house. She was limping, her neck covered in bruises and marks. It was obvious she had no idea who she’d actually spent the night with. The moment Kathy saw me, she wasted no time berating me in front of our parents. She accused me of failing to stand guard for her, not helping her clean up the mess and even refusing to buy her the drugs she needed for her plan. My mother’s face darkened immediately. Without hesitation, she slapped me across the face. Her voice rising with fury, “I knew you were useless! Worthless trash! Why did I even bother raising a money-leech like you?” “Your sister finally got her chance and not only did you refuse to help, but you left her behind to fend for herself? Money was falling from the sky and you couldn’t even pick it up! You’re doomed to be a penniless worker your whole life!” I held my stinging cheek, laughing bitterly at her shameless words. “At least I make my money through honest work. Unlike some people, I’d never stoop to selling my body!” My father’s face twisted with rage. He grabbed the ashtray from the coffee table and hurled it at my head. Blood instantly soaked my clothes, but he didn’t so much as blink. Instead, he continued to hurl insults at me, “All you ever talk about is working, working! Do you think your pitiful wages will be enough to give me and your mother any comfort before we’re dead and gone?” “You’re a complete disgrace! And now you have the nerve to insult your sister? Look at yourself—what kind of trash do you think you are? You’re good for nothing!” “If I’d known you’d turn out like this, I would’ve sold you off back then and saved myself the trouble!” “Marrying you off to some poor nobody for a few thousand in bride price? Do you think I run a charity?” I pressed a wad of tissues against the wound on my forehead, but no matter how hard I tried, the bleeding wouldn’t stop. Disappointment overwhelmed me and I couldn’t hold back my retort, “I’m your daughter, not a piece of pork in a butcher shop for people to pick and choose! If you’re so eager to sell your daughter’s body, why not just open a brothel?” “Every penny I earn is from my own hard work. What’s so wrong with that? If you despised me so much, why bother having me in the first place?” For a moment, panic flashed across both my parents’ faces. Just as they were about to lash out again, Kathy interrupted, smugly flaunting herself. “Don’t mind her. Once I have a baby and marry into the Miles Family, she’ll be the one begging me for help, kneeling at my feet.” At her words, my parents completely forgot about me. They rushed to Kathy, eager to hear about her “progress.” Kathy blushed, feigning shyness as she spoke. “You wouldn’t believe it. Chester isn’t nearly as cold and distant as the rumors say. He kept me up all night and I’m still sore everywhere!” “It’s just that when I woke up, he was already gone. All he left behind was a bank card in the room.” “But with how many times we did it, I’m sure I’ll get pregnant. When that happens, the position of Mrs. Miles is as good as mine!”

My parents laughed with delight at my sister’s words, as if they could already envision themselves becoming in-laws of the Miles Family. They had no clue about the Miles Family’s power or what that name truly represented. Anyone who dared to scheme against Chester would likely end up not even knowing how they met their end. The most important thing now was for me to sever ties with them as quickly as possible. At this moment, my parents were practically worshiping Kathy, showering her with praise for being such a capable daughter. They couldn’t stop talking about her success, constantly offering her soups and tonics, hoping she’d give birth to a child right away. I seized the opportunity to expose their greedy, materialistic nature. And well, as expected, my words instantly provoked them. My father kicked me off the sofa, tearing the page with my name from the household registry and throwing it at me. “Get out! Leave right now! I never have a useless daughter like you!” My mother looked at me with pure disappointment, her gaze full of contempt. Kathy stretched out her legs with a smug grin and said, “I was thinking of hooking you up with a secretary or a driver to help you live the good life, but since you’re so set on making your own money, go ahead and move out. And don’t come running to me if you get fired!” With my point made, I smiled and picked up the page from the household registry that had fallen to the floor. “One day, you’ll realize that the Miles Family isn’t as simple as they seem. Anyone who dares to scheme against Chester might end up the one begging for mercy.” I spent the night in a hotel, buying some medicine from a pharmacy to treat the wound on my forehead. The next day at work, I overheard my colleagues gossiping. “Did you hear? Someone drugged Mr. Miles last night! They slept with him and then ran off and Mr. Miles is going crazy trying to find them!” “How desperate can people be for money? Who on earth dares to drug Mr. Miles? The last person who tried is probably already in the grave!” “Wasn’t there supposed to be a marriage contract between the Miles Family and the Chandler family? Even though the Chandler family’s daughter went missing, I heard the engagement wasn’t canceled.” As they spoke, the one and only Franklin Chandler appeared behind us without us noticing. He said coldly, “Is everyone done with their work? Do you have time to gossip about Mr. Miles? You do have ideas what you’re getting yourselves into, right?” My colleagues immediately returned to their cubicle in desperate motion. Franklin gave me a once-over, a subtle smile dancing in his eyes. He and Chester had grown up together, their families were old friends with deep ties. From Franklin’s ruthless business style, it was clear that Chester was not someone to be taken lightly. This time, Kathy was finished. Remembering what my colleagues had just said, I immediately went home and wrote up my resignation letter. I couldn’t fight them, but I could avoid them. My boss didn’t ask for any reason and quickly processed my resignation. Afraid of being found by Chester, I rented a small apartment and stayed hidden for a week, not daring to go outside. Kathy, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She paraded around the corporation building every day, hoping Chester would recognize her as the one who had drugged him that night. Unfortunately for her, Chester’s bodyguards walked past her countless times without sparing her a single glance. Kathy was beginning to panic. She registered an account online under her real name, posting updates about the dinner from that night in every single post. After ten posts, Chester still hadn’t reached out to her. Next, she took a photo of the bank card and claimed it online as her find. This time, she finally got a response. Chester publicly replied to one of the comments: “The card is mine. Please share your contact info and I’ll pick it up personally. I’d really appreciate it.” His reply sent shockwaves through the internet. It was quickly screenshotted and went viral, climbing to the top of trending searches. The usually cold and distant CEO’s rare display of warmth was quickly interpreted by everyone online as a flirtatious conversation. People began speculating that my sister, the “good Samaritan” who found Mr. Miles’ lost item, was about to hit the jackpot.

Sharp-eyed netizens quickly tracked down Kathy’s address through her posts. They immediately connected her to the person who had drugged Chester that night. Before ‘the Mr. Miles’ even showed up at her door, people trying to gain favor were already flooding into her house. Talent scouts reached out to Kathy, offering collaboration deals, praising her pure looks and predicting she’d become a rising star in the industry. Others, eager to get close to the Miles Family, invited Kathy to dine at a luxury hotel, asking her to speak on their behalf in front of Chester. Rumors were spreading like wildfire online. Many were even betting that Chester would break off his engagement with the Chandler family. In just one day, Kathy gained millions of followers and became the new internet sensation. Yet, amidst all the attention, she pretended to caution people not to spread rumors, projecting an image of icy composure that quickly won over a legion of fans. Behind the scenes, her scandal only grew more widespread. I couldn’t stay idles much longer. I rushed to move my household registration out of my parent’s home. That evening, when I returned to pack my things, my parents were practically beaming. They were holding their smartphones, joyfully laughing non-stop at the comments online. It was as if they had already imagined themselves becoming in-laws to the Miles Family. I paid them no heed and proceed to head back to my room to pack my things. At my action, Mom snorted disdainfully. “You don’t even know how to enjoy life. Your whole life will just be spent working hard for nothing, a burden on the family.” Dad sighed deeply, looking disappointed. “When are you going to have even half the success your sister has? We could have been living right next to the Miles Family by now!” Kathy, her face covered in a thousand-dollar facial mask, strutted out of her room and stood in front of me with a smug expression. “You still don’t know, right? Mr. Miles has already messaged me, saying he wants to meet.” “He must have figured out that I was the one who helped him that night, but he’s not angry with me. He might’ve been interested in me all along!” “I just took a pregnancy test. Two lines.” “You should start flattering me now while you still can.” “After all, you’re my sister. Once I marry into the Miles Family, getting you a maid job won’t be a problem.” When I heard her mention the two lines, my heart sank. I casually touched my stomach, trying not to show my unease. “The rumors online, you were the one spreading them, weren’t you? Don’t you know how powerful the legal department at Miles Enterprises is? You’re not helping Mom and Dad, you’re dragging the whole family down with you.” Sure enough, as soon as I finished speaking… Mom had just seen the clarifying statement from Miles Enterprises online. It said that anyone continuing to spread rumors would face legal action from the Miles Family. The comments section, which had been full of excited chatter just moments ago, was suddenly shut down. All of Kathy’s posts were taken down and her account was banned. Only then did Kathy panic. But holding onto her pride, she hesitated for a long time before finally opening the chat window, yet she didn’t send a message to Chester. As my parents anxiously crowded around her, asking about the situation, Chester finally reached out to her. [I’ll send someone to pick you up. Be downstairs in five minutes.] The corner of Kathy’s mouth, which had just settled, couldn’t help but lift again. She waved her phone in front of me with a triumphant smile. “See that? The Miles Family is big. It’s understandable they want to keep things low-profile. But look, my husband can’t wait to explain things to me in person!” “Someone as timid and useless as you wouldn’t even be worthy of carrying my shoes! Get lost!” She pushed me aside and headed to her room to change. My parents immediately turned on me. “What use is it having you as a daughter if you can’t even support your sister? What’s the point of raising you?” “Just leave already! Don’t stay here and make us look at you!” Mom was so emotional, tears filling her eyes. “This risky move was definitely the right one! We might even be moving into a villa tonight!” Dad laughed heartily, holding up Kathy’s pregnancy test stick, with two lines showing and excitedly said, “I never even dared to dream about this! It’s the Miles Family! We’ll be part of high society now!” “Dear wife, take a look! How does this outfit look for our daughter’s wedding? Do you think it’ll embarrass her?” “When our grandson is born, what should we send as a gift? We can’t let our in-laws look down on us!” Watching them excitedly plan for the future, I silently returned to my room to pack my things. As I left the house, I followed them at a distance. By the time we got downstairs, we were surrounded by neighbors. Their voices were filled with weird mix, both of admiration and envy. “Wow, you’re so lucky to have a daughter like that! I saw the news online and if my daughter could marry into the Miles Family, I’d be grinning in my sleep!” “You two are really glowing with happiness, you even look younger! The gray hairs are almost gone!” “If I had known it would turn out this way, I would’ve let my daughter try for it too! I thought Mr. Miles was so hard to impress, but after all, he’s still a man—he can’t resist temptation!” I couldn’t help but feel a wave of disgust rise in my throat, the urge to gag taking over. My parents were grinning from ear to ear, eagerly declaring that the wedding would be a special celebration for our neighbors. In the midst of their chatter, several police cars pulled up with their sirens blaring. The leading officer showed his badge and spoke coldly, “Which one of you is Miss Kathy Holmes? She’s suspected of spreading rumors and using illegal substances. We need you to come with us for questioning.”

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The director called ‘Cut’ three times, but my celebrity husband was still locked in a passionate kiss with his childhood sweetheart. As his assistant, I kindly reminded them, but the childhood sweetheart burst into tears, claiming she was too deep into the role. In front of the entire crew, my husband scolded me, saying that my eyes and heart were so dirty that I saw filth in everything. That night, the paparazzi caught the two of them entering and leaving a five-star hotel together. In the past, I would have been devastated, obsessing over him and scrambling to handle the PR crisis while crying. But this time, I realized our five-year secret marriage was utterly meaningless. ***** Right after I spoke with a lawyer about the divorce, Jacob walked into the lounge. The lipstick mark from his childhood sweetheart, Agnes The moment he saw me, the smile on his face instantly vanished, his gaze turning cold and said harshly, “Sienna, can’t you figure out your place? This is a resting room for the leading actors, arranged by the crew. What are you doing here?” I grabbed the thermos from the makeup table and replied indifferently, “Getting my stuff.” Jacob had started his day at five in the morning. I’d made the meal in the thermos at three. The weight hadn’t changed, so I knew Jacob hadn’t touched a bite. Seeing me turn to leave, he frowned in displeasure and said again, “Don’t bother making food anymore. It’s unpalatable.” It wasn’t the first time he’d said my cooking was bad. In the past, I would’ve exploded, questioning him, “Didn’t you say you wanted to eat my cooking for a lifetime? Why is it suddenly disgusting now?” But this time, I didn’t even bother to argue. I simply said “Hmm” and walked out the door. Jacob called after me, “There’s a crew dinner tonight. The director wants me to discuss the script with Agnes.” I pretended not to hear the guilt in his voice and coldly replied, “Okay.” After closing the door, I threw the thermos into the trash. The last scene had been filmed close to home, so Jacob hadn’t stayed at the hotel. He returned home around 1 AM. Seeing that I wasn’t waiting for him in the living room like I usually did, Jacob pushed open the bedroom door and said impatiently, “Sienna, you know I have trouble sleeping. Why didn’t you brew my calming tea?” I pulled the blanket over my head and lazily replied, “I ran out of tea leaves last night. If you want some, order takeout.” With a loud bang, Jacob slammed the door and went into the study. That was his way of showing he was angry and in the past, it would have been my cue to spend the night tossing and turning, eventually humbling myself to apologize. But that night, he waited until the next morning and I still hadn’t knocked on the study door. The next day, the crew moved filming to a remote mountain outside the city. For once, Jacob allowed me to ride in the van with him. Just as I got into the van, Agnes, wearing a low-cut, backless dress, walked up gracefully and said, “Jacob, do you have any bug spray? I always attract mosquitoes …” Seeing me, Agnes changed her tone, “Oh, Sienna, you’re here too? Then I’d better take the other car …” Before Agnes could finish, Jacob coldly said to me, “Sienna, can’t you be sensible? Stop causing trouble. Go sit in the assistant’s car.” For the first time, I said nothing and got out of the car. Watching my figure retreating into the distance, Jacob furrowed his brows. Five minutes later, I received a WhatsApp message from Jacob. [Today, Agnes will have a scene where she shows her legs. Don’t misunderstand.] [Understood.] I replied shortly. The “Typing …” indicator in the chat window stayed on for several minutes. Without thinking, I exited WhatsApp and turned off my phone. Without Jacob’s orders, the scenery along the way became more beautiful. It was already eleven at night by the time filming wrapped up. As we were finishing, the scaffold that the carpenters had set up suddenly collapsed. In a flash, Jacob pushed Agnes out of harm’s way and the two of them rolled onto the ground, accidentally locking lips.   The staff on set started cheering and clapping and Agnes shyly nestled into Jacob’s arms. “Oh no, everyone, don’t misunderstand. There’s really nothing going on between Jacob and me,” she said. Jacob didn’t respond or explain but simply tightened his hold on Agnes. I used all my strength to push away the wooden frame pressing on my calf and pulled out the splinter stuck in my flesh. Limping away from the scene, I found a quiet spot to tend to my wound. When I returned to the filming site, I discovered everyone had already left. The surrounding darkness stretched endlessly, accompanied by the howling of wild animals. I curled my injured body into a ball, gripping a tree branch and hid on a stone beneath a large tree, keeping vigilant all night long. It wasn’t until dawn that I shakily began my descent from the mountain. Halfway down, my phone finally got a signal and Jacob called, furiously scolding me, “Sienna, you’re really something, huh? Not answering my calls and slacking off! Agnes got bitten by mosquitoes during filming last night. Go to the hospital and get her some medicine!” As the most popular actress of the year, Agnes was known for her unpretentious personality, winning her many fans. Everyone knew she didn’t hire personal assistants and took care of things herself. But no one knew that Jacob took care of all her personal affairs, delegating tasks to me. When I remained silent, Jacob quickly lost patience and yelled, “Sienna, are you deaf? I’m giving you half an hour, get back to the set immediately!” “I’m on the mountain,” I replied. There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before he spoke again. He finally asked, “You spent the night on the mountain? Alone?” Surveying my surroundings, I still felt as if a pair of crimson animal eyes were watching me from behind a tree, waiting to pounce. The tension in my mind snapped and tears of delayed fear welled up in my eyes. Jacob’s tone softened, “Stay where you are. I’ll come get you. It’ll take about an hour.” The sun blazed above me and hour after hour passed. Still, Jacob never came. Dragging my broken body, I made my way back to the set on my own. When Jacob entered the tent, I had just finished a phone call with a new assistant candidate for an interview. His eyes scanned my phone with cold suspicion and he asked in a deep voice, “Sienna, who were you talking to?” “Someone I don’t know,” I replied flatly. Jacob naturally thought this call was a scam call from a stranger. He didn’t ask any further questions and I didn’t explain. “I figured you’d be hungry, so I brought you some food,” he said, tossing a takeout box heavily onto the camping table. The corner of the takeout box, filled with leftover food scraps, peeked out and a sour stench wafted from it. Quickly collecting the box, Jacob cleared his throat and said, “There were a lot of people ordering takeout, they must’ve grabbed the wrong one.” With the kind of people who dined at the same table as a famous actor like Jacob, how could anyone possibly take the wrong box? I lay back on the bed, turning my body to the side. I said coldly, “It’s fine. My delivery should be arriving soon anyway.” Hearing this, Jacob’s expression darkened and he said in a low voice, “Why didn’t you tell me you were ordering takeout? Sienna, I’ve told you many times, there’s nothing going on between Agnes and me. Everything is just for the show, for the sake of creating an on-screen chemistry. I don’t understand why you’re making such a fuss. Why are you so petty?” Facing the man’s explanation, I responded coldly, “I’m not making a fuss.” Though I was telling the truth, it only fueled Jacob’s anger. He threw the takeout box into the trash and said with a sharp tone, “Then why didn’t you bring Agnes the medicine? Didn’t I tell you it’s inconvenient for me to go to the hospital with my public image? It’s just a small matter of buying medicine. Sienna, is this really necessary?” Buying medicine was indeed a small thing, but what about doing laundry and cooking? Agnes claimed she had a germ phobia, insisting all her clothes be hand-washed. So, even when we were filming in the freezing northern winter, with temperatures below minus ten degrees, Jacob ordered me to bear the pain of frostbite and hand-wash Agnes’s clothes. I remember once when my frostbite was so severe that it bled and stained Agnes’s clothes.

Upon seeing it, Jacob kicked me out of the hotel, forcing me to wash Agnes’s clothes outside in the snow while wearing nothing but a thin nightgown. All because Agnes had casually said, “Jacob, I heard from my relatives that snow can cure frostbite.” In Jacob’s eyes, I had always been an obedient servant, following his every command without question. But after five years of being a servant, I was tired of it. I pulled the blanket over my head and said coldly, “I’m not feeling well, I don’t want to go.” The space on the other side of the blanket remained quiet for a long time before Jacob stormed out in anger. That night, Jacob and Agnes shot to the top of the trending searches. In the video, Jacob was carrying Agnes in a princess hold, rushing into the hospital, shouting for an emergency. The comments section was filled with praise: [Wow, is this Jacob Levine, the actor, making things official?] [Oh my gosh, a princess carry! I’m so jealous. If someone tried to lift me at my weight, they’d throw out their back.] [Isn’t anyone concerned about what happened to Agnes? Why did she need to go to the ER?] [I’m from the crew. Agnes said her forehead felt a bit hot and wanted to find a thermometer. As soon as Jacob heard, he carried her off the lounge chair and drove her to the hospital himself.] [I knew I was shipping the right couple! I’m so into this!] As I scrolled through the comments, Jacob called me. Before I could even speak, he hurriedly explained, “Sienna, I took Agnes to the hospital because she said she had a fever. I was just worried her fever would affect the filming schedule, nothing more. Please don’t misunderstand the trending searches. There’s really nothing between me and Agnes.” “Okay,” I replied. My genuine response left Jacob speechless for half a minute. “What did you say?” he asked. I answered, “It’s all for the new drama’s promotion. I understand. Don’t worry, I’ll handle the reporters.”   After my words, the breathing on the other end of the phone became heavy and serious, just like when Jacob used to get angry. I didn’t want to hear any more of his foul language, so I hung up and turned off my phone. Then, using my work phone, I contacted the most influential entertainment journalists in the country, asking them to blow up the news about Jacob carrying Agnes in a princess hold to the hospital. The journalists were taken aback when they heard my request. “Miss Hubert, are you sure you want to do this?” I couldn’t blame them for their surprise. In the past, I had always paid to suppress these kinds of stories, explaining them away as part of the filming process. But this time, I wasn’t going to do that. Since I was already preparing for a divorce, I needed to protect our shared assets, ensuring I could get more in the division of property. I said, “But I have one condition.” The entertainment reporters paused and said, “Miss Hubert, please go ahead.” I said again, “I want fifty percent of the profits. If you agree, we’ll sign the contract right away and get started. I can even provide you with more authentic material.” My confidence excited the journalists even more. After all, no news was more sensational than a romance involving a superstar actor. The next day, Jacob and Agnes’s childhood sweetheart romance was exposed, quickly dominating the top three trending searches. Instead of dealing with it, I had scheduled an interview with a new assistant. That night, Jacob, who was filming in another city, surprisingly rushed home. From the living room, I could smell Agnes’s signature perfume on him. “Sienna, don’t you have anything to say?” he asked frantically. His expression was serious and his cold gaze fixed on me. His eyes were just like that poisonous snake I had fought for my life with on the mountain. He scolded me, “Do you realize what you’ve done is going to greatly impact Agnes’s career? There are paparazzi swarming outside her house right now and she can’t even go out!” Casually eating potato chips and watching anime, I didn’t even look up. “Isn’t this exactly what the fans wanted? It’s also perfect promotion for the new drama. I made this decision after weighing the pros and cons,” I said calmly. Those were the same words Jacob had said to me two years ago. At that time, Agnes was filming a scene where the heroine falls off a cliff, her first role in the entertainment industry. Just before filming, Agnes tearfully told Jacob that she was afraid of heights. In order not to delay the progress of the shooting and make the scene realistic, Jacob didn’t hesitate to have me put on Agnes’s costume and act as her stunt double, jumping off a cliff more than ten meters high without any safety precautions. “Agnes said the crew had set up safety measures at the bottom of the cliff. Sienna, what are you hesitating for?” he said. “But … Jacob … I’m afraid of heights too.” I trembled as I clung to Jacob’s arm, only for him to shake me off coldly. He insisted, “How come I never noticed you were so difficult before? Now that Agnes is here, suddenly you’re scared of heights? Are you just putting on an act, Sienna?” “But I really am afraid …” I sobbed. He scolded me, “Enough with the ‘buts’! Sienna, let me tell you, I’m doing this after weighing the pros and cons.” With those words, Jacob didn’t hesitate to push me off the cliff. That scene didn’t even show my face in the close-up. Even now, Agnes’s fan-base still praises her dedication to her craft, saying she never uses stunt doubles for the sake of authenticity. Thanks to that scene, Agnes became one of the most beloved actresses in the entertainment industry. And me? After being pushed off a cliff without any safety measures by Jacob, I broke my right leg and spent more than half a year in the hospital. During my entire hospital stay, Jacob only visited me once and that was because Agnes had been scratched by her pet cat and he had brought her to the hospital to get her finger bandaged. Even though my room was just next to Agnes’s, Jacob wouldn’t set foot inside, afraid it might dirty his shoes. At this moment, Jacob was speechless, blocked by my words. Silently, I pulled out the divorce papers I had prepared in advance, placed them on the coffee table and calmly said, “Jacob, let’s get a divorce.”

Hearing my words, Jacob froze on the spot, staring at me blankly, “What did you say? Sienna?” I took out a pen, signed the divorce papers one by one and used lipstick to make my fingerprint before pushing the papers in front of Jacob. “I said, I want a divorce,” I said it again. Jacob tugged at his collar and frowned. “Sienna, are you out of your mind? Who would want you, a middle-aged woman, after leaving me?” So in Jacob’s eyes, I, a woman who had just turned thirty, was already considered middle-aged. I tossed the pen at him. I replied, “Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘A woman blossoms at thirty?’ But Jacob, you should know that after the divorce, I won’t be your assistant anymore. You’ll need to give me a few days to hand over your recent work schedule to the new assistant.” My straightforwardness earned a mocking laugh from Jacob. He pointed at me with one hand, his eyes filled with impatience. “Sienna, you’re playing with fire and you’re going to get burned!” Just as he finished speaking, Agnes’s distinctive ringtone started playing. Jacob didn’t answer, instead, he looked at me with a threatening gaze. He started to mocked me, “Didn’t you always say you wanted to have a baby before turning thirty? I know you’re ovulating these days. Sienna, I’m giving you three seconds to take back what you just said.” Last year, I made a birthday wish on my 29th birthday, turning my ovulation days into a scheduled task for Jacob and me to fulfill our marital duties. But Jacob didn’t know that I had stopped ovulating since last month. The ringtone echoed in the living room like a ticking time bomb. Three seconds later, the last remaining connection between Jacob and me exploded into pieces. “Sienna, you’ve got guts. Let’s see if you can stay this tough forever!” With those words, he stormed out of the villa. As soon as the door slammed shut, I picked up my phone and scheduled an abortion for the day after tomorrow. Lying on the operating table, the doctor glanced at the ultrasound and tried to persuade me, “Miss Hubert, your baby is developing well. Are you sure you don’t want to discuss this with the father?” At the same time, a notification for a trending post popped up on my phone. It was a video clip from the previous night’s film festival. When the camera zoomed in on Jacob and Agnes sitting together, they exchanged several shy glances, their lips curling into smiles. It wasn’t until Agnes, gathering her courage in front of the crowd and the cameras, kissed Jacob that he grabbed the back of her neck with one hand, bringing her close to his throat. The deafening screams in the video suddenly stopped when I closed it. I accidentally clicked on a high-definition photo taken by one of the on-site reporters and there on Jacob’s Adam’s apple, I noticed a pair of small bite marks. On our wedding night, when Jacob was still just a stand-in actor, he pressed me down on the bed and teased me harshly. He held my head and urged me to bite his protruding Adam’s apple, his low voice still echoing in my ears, “Sienna, bite me.” Only when my teeth sank into his skin did Jacob finally hold me close, repeatedly kissing the top of my head. He said, “It really hurts, it’s not a dream. Sienna, I really married you.” Back then, Jacob truly saw me as his unreachable goddess. Locking my phone, I put it away and closed my eyes, saying to the doctor, “Go ahead, doctor.” It wasn’t as painful as I had imagined. In fact, after the surgery, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. The next morning, after being discharged from the hospital, I met with my new assistant at a nearby café. To make sure the assistant wouldn’t be bullied, I specifically chose a male assistant. After finalizing all the details, I began signing the contract with Maxwell Phoenix. “Sienna, why are you quitting? Jacob is so nice. You have no idea how many people would kill for a chance to be his assistant,” he said. I smiled slightly. “I’m getting old. This job is more suited to young people like you who have the drive.” Maxwell looked at me with a mixture of understanding and confusion, regret and admiration flickering in his eyes. He said, “But I don’t think you’re old at all. You’ve been with Jacob through thick and thin, from his obscure days to his fame. You’ve worked so hard, you’re such a good assistant.” I gave him a faint smile and packed the signed contract into my bag. “Maybe. Maxwell, I wish you a bright future and smooth sailing.” After dealing with the assistant, I drove home. To my surprise, Jacob, who was supposed to be filming in a neighboring city, was sitting on the sofa. He looked at me, his eyes bloodshot and his voice cold when he said, “Sienna, where were you last night?” “What does it matter to you?” I asked back. I changed my shoes and headed straight to the bedroom. In the past, when Jacob stayed out countless nights, I would ask him the same question. I even called his friends one by one, trying to find out where he was. Sometimes they would cover for him and other times, an irritated Jacob would grab the phone and curse at me directly, “Sienna, where I go has nothing to do with you! I’m an adult. I have my own privacy. Can you stop meddling in my business?” While I endured his insults, I would think of ways to apologize to him, hoping he would drink less. But while I was filled with concern, what I heard on the other end of the phone was Agnes’s soft voice, “Jacob, come dance with me …” Before I could even remind him, Jacob would hang up the phone in a hurry. Now, hearing me give him the same answer, Jacob stiffened and followed me into the bedroom. He threw two photos onto my face, his eyes red with fury, “Sienna, what’s your relationship with him?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “398118”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G #MarriageInTrouble #Cheating #regret #CelebrityMovieStar