Category: English

He took her ditching class, taught her to smoke and drink, and sent her grades plummeting. I couldn’t bear to watch her spiral, so when her parents asked, I told them everything. From then on, she was kept under strict watch by her folks. The night she and the school rebel planned to elope, her parents stopped her. She couldn’t make it to him. And that same night, he tragically died in a freak accident. Years later, set up by our families, we got married and had a child. During a terrible car crash, to protect her and our daughter, I pushed them away and took the brunt of the impact. Just before my consciousness faded, she leaned in close to my ear: “She isn’t your daughter. I never loved you. I only married you to get revenge.” Under her resentful glare, I took my last breath. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my senior year of high school, right on the day the bad boy asked her out. “Ethan, Caleb asked me to hang out with him tonight. Do you think I should go?” I stared blankly at the young, pretty face in front of me. Suddenly, I realized I had been reborn. I was back in my senior year. Seeing me space out, Chloe waved a hand in front of my face and complained, “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Chloe Davis was my childhood sweetheart. She was a dancer, banking everything on getting into a performing arts conservatory. She was slender, had an incredible presence, and her dance routines were top-tier. Her only flaw was that her academic grades were a disaster. Meanwhile, I was in the AP Honors track. With my GPA, I was guaranteed a solid state university, but I was gunning for the Ivy League. At her parents’ request, I spent three evenings a week tutoring her, trying to help her get the scores she needed for her dream dance academy in New York. Once upon a time, I thought this was a perfect arrangement. I thought we would go to the East Coast together, that I’d find the perfect moment to confess my feelings, and that we’d get married, have kids, and become the perfect couple our parents always hoped we’d be. Our future was laid out right in front of us; all it took was a little effort to reach it. But right at that crucial moment, Caleb Vance showed up. Just like Chloe, Caleb was a notorious figure at our school. He was ridiculously good-looking, and his family background was a mystery. Countless girls threw themselves at him, though they tried not to be too obvious about it. After all, Caleb had a terrible temper. He was rebellious, violent, slacked off constantly, and had zero respect for anyone. Rumor had it that just this week, he made an English teacher quit in tears. Even the principal couldn’t do anything about him. Yet, this was the guy who successfully caught Chloe’s eye. “I know he has a bad reputation and everyone’s scared of him. But last time I got cornered by some creeps off-campus, he saved me. He’s nothing like the rumors. He’s actually a really good guy, just tough on the outside but soft on the inside.” Chloe rested her chin on her hands, her cheeks flushed pink. Whenever she talked about Caleb, her eyes lit up like they held a sky full of stars. It was completely different from how she looked at me. In my past life, on the day of our wedding, even her bridesmaids were crying, begging me to treat her right. But Chloe, the bride, just maintained a shallow, perfectly polite smile the entire time. From start to finish, her emotions barely fluctuated. It was only later I realized that because she didn’t love me, she could stay as calm as an outsider. When she truly loved someone, even if she covered her mouth, the love would still pour out of her eyes. “Ethan, why are you being so quiet? You can’t just judge a book by its cover, you know. Don’t think I’m just trying to make excuses for Caleb; I’m telling the truth!” Chloe already had her answer. Asking for my permission now was just her way of dragging me down with her. If her parents found out, she could smoothly shift the blame to me, claiming I let her go, making me the scapegoat. She had been like this since we were kids. I was six months older, so I always played the protective older brother. Every time she caused trouble, I stepped up and took the fall. And she happily enjoyed my sacrifices without a second thought. But now, I was done with that. Seeing I wasn’t responding, Chloe compromised, “Okay, fine, I admit it, I want to go. Just do me a solid, please? You don’t even have to do anything, just don’t rat me out to my parents. If they ask how tutoring went, just say it was great.” She suddenly leaned close, pressing her hands together pleadingly, looking at me with big doe eyes. “Please, please, please?” She always knew exactly how to manipulate me. I was about to speak when a commotion erupted outside the classroom. Classmates started whispering loudly, “Whoa, it’s Caleb! What’s he doing here?!” Caleb stood in the doorway, tall and easily standing out from the crowd. Even as a guy, looking at his face, I had to admit he was incredibly handsome. Handsome enough to make anyone else feel inadequate. Caleb leaned against the doorframe, lazily asking Chloe, “Have you made up your mind yet? Are we going or what?” The whispers grew louder. “So he’s here for Chloe. Wait, wasn’t Chloe supposed to be studying with Ethan tonight?” “Are you stupid? Between Caleb and Ethan, who would you pick?! Caleb, obviously! He’s gorgeous!” “Whatever, slacking off in senior year for a guy is just setting yourself up for regrets later.” Caleb looked annoyed. He swept his gaze over the room and kicked the door loudly. “You guys tired of having teeth?” The whole room fell dead silent instantly. Chloe shot me a begging look. I said flatly, “Go if you want. It’s not my place to manage you.” After everything I went through in my past life, I had learned a deep truth: Drop the savior complex and respect other people’s destinies. Chloe jumped up with joy and even gave me a quick hug. “I knew you were the best, Ethan!” The class let out a collective gasp. “Whoa!” But Chloe quickly let go, though her faint perfume still lingered in the air. Usually, Chloe was quiet and reserved, widely seen as the untouchable, ice-queen goddess of the school. She rarely acted this bubbly and proactive. If this were the old me, I would have been ecstatic, feeling like I’d just been handed the greatest gift on earth. But now, all I wanted to do was get back to figuring out the final calculus problem on my practice test. Caleb’s expression shifted slightly. He walked right between us, smoothly forcing us apart. “Let’s bounce, then. Nerd, don’t you dare snitch to her folks, or you’re dead meat.” He casually snatched my glasses off my face and tossed them onto my desk, clicking his tongue. “Tsk, you look even uglier without them.” Getting involved with him only led to bad endings. I had no reason to invite trouble. I put my glasses back on and told Chloe, “I won’t be your shield. If you don’t want me tutoring you anymore, you can explain that to your parents yourself.” Chloe nodded distractedly, pulling a Tupperware container from her backpack and shoving it at me. “Eat both of these. Don’t waste them! My mom worked hard cooking this!” Mrs. Davis was grateful for the tutoring, so whenever she packed dinner for Chloe, she packed a portion for me too. Before I could say another word, Chloe ran off toward Caleb, shouting, “Hey, wait up!” In my past life, she ignored my warnings and went out with him anyway. He took her ditching, causing her already poor grades to tank further. When Mrs. Davis asked me what was going on, I couldn’t stomach the lie and told her everything. Furious, her parents pulled her out of our school and sent her to a strict, lockdown-style prep academy to keep an eye on her. Right before graduation, she and Caleb planned to elope. Her mom caught her, so she never made it. And that very night, Caleb died in an accident. Chloe threatened to end her own life over it. Desperate, her family sold their house and moved abroad with her so she could study there. When I saw her again six years later, she was a somewhat famous dancer—beautiful, elegant, captivating with every smile. When we talked about the past, she laughed and said, “I was just too young and foolish back then. You were just looking out for me.” Pushed together by our parents, we grew closer, fell in love, married, and had a baby. Until a massive truck came barreling toward us, and instinct took over as I shoved her and our daughter out of the way. But as I was being loaded into the ambulance, Chloe leaned into my ear and whispered the truth. “The kid isn’t yours. Every time you went on a business trip, I brought men home. “I never loved you. I only married you to ruin you. Do you have any idea what these past years have been like for me? Every time I think of him, my heart hurts so much I want to die. “Trading your life to save someone else’s kid—you deserve this, Ethan! You killed the love of my life, and this is your karma!” I died looking into her eyes, which were filled with nothing but pure hatred. Worse, in my previous life, trying to save her had dragged me through hell. Caleb brought his crew to the AP classrooms constantly to corner me. He wrote ‘SNITCH’ on my desk and exams, and tried to force me to crawl between his legs. When I refused, he pinned me against the teacher’s podium and beat me. I tried to fight back, but he had too many guys with him. Any resistance just meant a worse beating. The harassment only paused when a teacher intervened. It was endless. Back then, I was just a sensitive, inexperienced teenager. The bullying wrecked my focus. When Caleb died, Chloe blamed the entire tragedy on me. I took the most important exam of my life drowning in guilt, pain, and anxiety. When the results came out, I had dropped out of the top thirty in the school for the first time ever, landing in a mediocre, bottom-tier state college. It was the biggest regret of my life. But this time, I was getting into the Ivy League. God had given me a chance to hit the reset button, and I was going to give it everything I had. The next time I saw Chloe was in the stairwell of the gym. I had just finished P.E. and was sent by the coach to put the equipment away. Chloe was wearing a cheap faux-leather jacket, a row of metal cuffs up her ear, and heavy, exaggerated smoky makeup. I hadn’t seen her in a while. The arts track classrooms were two floors away from the AP track. If she didn’t come looking for me, we naturally never crossed paths. Besides, I was busy studying. I had zero interest in the school rumor mill. Seeing me, Chloe expertly put a cigarette to her lips and blew out a cloud of smoke. She looked no different from the sketchy dropouts hanging around street corners. How could I have forgotten? She always thought this stuff was cool. As an only child, her parents had kept her on a very short leash. She was raised to be the perfect, obedient daughter. But sometimes, when she heard the roar of street racers outside her window, she’d lean out, watch them, and sigh, “So cool. That’s what being young is all about.” Deep down, she had always harbored a rebellious streak. Caleb’s arrival was like dropping a chunk of sodium into still water—it exploded with fire and light. That intense reaction scrambled her brain and gave her permission to unleash her true self. Seeing this group of delinquent-looking kids, Maya, our class monitor who was walking next to me, froze and shrank behind my shoulder. Our conversation about the math decathlon problems abruptly stopped. I gave her a reassuring look and said, “Maya, why don’t you head back to class? There isn’t that much stuff left. I can carry the rest to the equipment room myself.” Maya looked at me gratefully, then glanced at the hostile-looking group in front of us. After a brief hesitation, she said, “It’s fine. Let’s just go together.” Chloe clicked her tongue in annoyance. One of the guys behind her immediately barked, “Can’t you see our girl has something to say to him? Get lost if you know what’s good for you!” Chloe smirked, clearly enjoying the tough-guy act on her behalf. I told Maya, “It’s okay. Head back. I’ll have that decathlon problem solved for you before study hall.” Once Maya scurried away, Chloe raised an eyebrow and asked, “Ethan, I heard you’ve been getting awfully cozy with some girl lately. Was that her?” They rearranged the seating chart last week, and Maya ended up next to me. She had squeaked into our AP class with the lowest qualifying score. She lacked a strong foundation, but she worked incredibly hard. Hard work always pays off eventually. Since I was doing better in class, she often asked me questions. Sometimes, even if we bumped into each other in the cafeteria, she’d come over with a textbook. But I didn’t owe Chloe an explanation about my life. So I said, “None of your business. Tell your friends to move. I have to get to class.” Chloe sounded almost whiny as she said, “What do you mean, none of my business? We grew up together! How could you get a girlfriend and not tell me?” “No offense, but your class monitor is kind of chubby. If you date her, it’ll be embarrassing to take her anywhere! I don’t know what you see in her.” She scrunched up her nose, looking utterly disgusted. “Of course, if you found a girlfriend as pretty as me, I definitely wouldn’t stop you.” She blew a smoke ring right at my face, a teasing smile on her lips. Caught off guard, I inhaled the harsh smoke and doubled over, coughing violently until tears streamed down my face. I had asthma. Strong chemical smells or smoke easily triggered it. Chloe knew this perfectly well, yet she did it anyway. She and the guys behind her burst out laughing. It suddenly hit me: Chloe had known all along that I had a crush on her. That was exactly why, in my past life, she used my feelings as a weapon to destroy me. And like an idiot, I thought she had actually fallen for me and recognized my worth. I was so incredibly wrong. It took me a minute to catch my breath before I stood up straight. “Maya is a great person and she’s incredibly smart. Looks aren’t the only way to judge someone’s value. “She and I are just classmates. Not everyone makes high school entirely about who they’re dating.” I didn’t hold back. Chloe’s expression darkened, and she tossed her cigarette onto the ground. “Ethan, you’re so boring!” She kicked over the plastic bin I was carrying, sending shuttlecocks scattering all over the floor. As if that wasn’t enough, she deliberately stepped on several of them as she walked past me. The guys with her mimicked her, stomping on the shuttlecocks as they followed. I stood there, looking at the crushed plastic and feathers on the floor, feeling a strange sense of emptiness. What kind of person had I been in love with all those years? Senior year flew by, and midterms were right around the corner. Soon, I’d be able to test exactly how much my hard work had paid off. I scarfed down my dinner, trying to save time. But just as I stepped out of the cafeteria, I ran into Chloe. She grabbed my arm. “I knew you’d be here! Ethan, you have to help me!” My first instinct was to pull away, but she gripped tighter. “Exams are coming up and I haven’t studied at all! If I bomb this, I’m dead! My mom will definitely ship me off to one of those lockdown prep schools! “Then how am I supposed to see Caleb? I’ll die without him. “Ethan, please, please help me. Let me borrow your notes. I swear I’ll actually study them!” The same pitiful, damsel-in-distress act. She assumed I’d never say no to her. I gave it to her straight. “Didn’t you say you didn’t need me to tutor you anymore? I haven’t been taking detailed notes lately.” It was the truth. I kept the key concepts in my head and reinforced them by running practice drills. Writing out pretty notes was a waste of time. Besides, the notes I did jot down for myself were shorthand, skipping basic steps. She wouldn’t understand them anyway. A flash of relief crossed her face. “That’s fine, as long as you’re willing to help. I need the notes ASAP. Stay up tonight and organize them for me. Pulling an all-nighter should be enough.” “Give them to me tomorrow, got it? Otherwise, I won’t have enough time to memorize everything.” She had planned out exactly how to use me before she even walked over. I shook my head. “I can’t help you. If I pull an all-nighter, I’ll be a zombie all week. It’ll ruin my focus for the exams.” Looking completely shocked that I had refused, Chloe furrowed her brow, her voice growing shrill. “What do you mean you can’t stay up?! When you agreed to tutor me, you stayed up all night making study guides! Why can’t you do it now?!” She looked so entitled. As if I existed solely to take her orders, as if I owed her endless, unconditional indulgence. I made it crystal clear. “That was before. Back when you actually wanted to learn. The way you are now… I’m not wasting my time.” Chloe glared at me furiously, pointing a finger right in my face as she screamed: “Fine! You think you’re so great just because you can read a damn book! Let me tell you, valedictorians don’t become the bosses in the real world! “With your garbage social skills, if you think you’re going to make it big, keep dreaming!” Her words meant nothing to me. What could she possibly say that would hurt more than what she said to me in my past life? She spat her venom, but as she walked away, she purposely slowed her steps. She was waiting for me to chase after her. Waiting for me to apologize and cave, to say I’d stay up and write the notes. Just like I had done so many times before. I did call out to her. Chloe turned around, crossing her arms, wearing a triumphant smirk. I continued, “Oh right, you haven’t told your parents that we canceled tutoring, have you? If you don’t tell them, I will.” “I’m a terrible liar. If they ask me why, it’s highly likely I’ll let the truth slip.” Hearing this, Chloe’s face turned livid. “Damn it, Ethan, you’re gonna pay for this!” She looked at me like she wanted me dead. But I really didn’t care anymore. Between her and my future, I was picking my future. I should have woken up a long time ago. After evening study hall, the second I stepped out of the school gates, a deafening motorcycle engine roared. Caleb, with Chloe on the back of his bike, stopped right in front of me, blocking the sidewalk. A whole gang of colorful-haired delinquents pulled up behind them. I asked, “Can I help you?” Caleb just sneered at me. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and one of his guys immediately rushed forward to light it for him. He exhaled a slow stream of smoke, tilting his chin up. “You pissed off my girl? Pretty brave for a four-eyed nerd.” Chloe wrapped her arms around his waist, looking incredibly smug. “Ethan, apologize right now. And write up those study notes for me tonight. If you do, I’ll tell my boyfriend to let you off the hook.” What a blatant shakedown. I never realized she could be this shameless. Or maybe she had been this way all along. It was just my crush on her that had painted her in a golden, flawless light. I let out a slow sigh. “I don’t want any trouble. But Chloe, I’ve kept my mouth shut about everything you’re doing. If I tell your parents, do you really think you’ll still be living this carefree lifestyle?” The smirk froze on Chloe’s face. I kept going. “You know exactly how fiercely protective your parents are. If they find out you’re running around with a gang and dating this guy, will they ever let you leave the house again?” Caleb looked entirely dismissive. “So what if they know? Worst case, I show up at their front door to meet the in-laws. With a son-in-law as awesome as me, they should consider themselves lucky!” The delusion was almost impressive. Chloe, humiliated and enraged, threw an empty cigarette box at my head. “You really think I give a crap about your stupid notes?! Keep your nerd crap! I have my own ways, just you watch! “Let’s go, babe!” Caleb threw a mock punch in the air at me before revving his engine and speeding off, his entire crew trailing noisily behind him. That night, Mrs. Davis called me. “Ethan, sweetie, thank you so much for tutoring Chloe lately. You have excellent grades, and with college applications coming up, you really need to spend more time focusing on yourself.” Chloe had definitely spun a story. No doubt she painted it like I was too obsessed with my own grades to bother helping her anymore. She was the one slacking off, yet she pinned the blame squarely on me. But whatever. At least now, whatever happened to her going forward, her parents couldn’t blame me for it. Her life was officially none of my business. Midterms wrapped up, and the school gave us a rare half-day off. I went home, caught up on sleep, ate dinner, and headed back to school for evening study hall. As soon as I walked into the classroom, I heard the gossip. “Did you guys hear? Chloe and Caleb got caught cheating on the exams! The school is calling their parents in!” So this was the “own way” Chloe had bragged about. “And guess what happened next? Chloe literally dropped to her knees in front of the dean, begging him not to tell her folks! Caleb thought she was being embarrassing, kicked a desk, and just walked out on her!” “Then what? What happened?” “Then—get this—the dean actually let it go!” “No way, seriously?” “I mean, look at her. She’s gorgeous, great body, crying her eyes out like a damsel in distress. What guy wouldn’t cave? The dean’s only human.” I couldn’t stand listening to it anymore. “Watch your mouth.” The guy who was talking scoffed. “She doesn’t even like you, why are you still defending her? Ethan, you’ve played the pathetic lapdog for so long you actually think it’s romantic, huh?” He was being completely aggressive, making the people around him snicker. “I’m not defending anyone; I’m just stating facts. Just because it’s the 21st century doesn’t mean you can spew garbage rumors like that.” The guy thrived on attention, so getting called out made him snap. “Ethan! You looking for a fight?!” “Gentlemen use their words. Resorting to fists just because you can’t win an argument is pretty pathetic.” Having worked in corporate America for years in my past life, dealing with sarcastic passive-aggression was second nature. These high school kids couldn’t touch me. Right then, Maya shouted, “The rankings are out!” Instantly, the tension evaporated. Everyone swarmed Maya. It was completely packed. Maya sighed. “Give me some space, guys! Let me tape the sheet to the wall first, then you can look.” I really wanted to see my score, but there was no way I was fighting that crowd. Might as well review some vocabulary while they finish up. Maya walked over to my desk and handed me a slip of paper. My grades were written on it. “I copied them down for you. No big deal. Ethan, you killed it! Ninth in the whole grade!” Ninth in the grade! Even at my absolute best in my past life, I only ever made it to eleventh. It was true: when you put your head down and shut out the noise, the hard work pays off. I stretched my arms over my head, took a breath, and dove right back into my textbooks. The semester blew by. Time felt like it was on fast-forward, moving almost too quickly to catch my breath. My dad looked at my final report card, beaming. “Sixth in the grade! Awesome job, son. Keep this up, and the Ivy League is in the bag.” I nodded. “I’ll keep pushing.” My goal was a top-tier Ivy, so I still had work to do. My mom chimed in with a sigh, “It’s such a shame about the Davis girl. She was just diagnosed with depression. She has absolutely no interest in school anymore, and her grades have completely tanked. Her parents are stressing out, wondering if they should have her take a gap year and try for college next year.” Depression? She really knew how to find an excuse for herself.

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1 “Gwen, has pig manure addled your brain?” Tanya’s shrill voice rang out as she jabbed a trembling finger at the piglet in my arms, her face twisted in disgust. “You treat that trash like treasure? Marcus is a filthy pig farmer! Only a desperate loser settles for a peasant!” I stayed silent. The tiny piglet trembled against me, its fragile heartbeat proof I was alive, back before I was pushed into the septic tank. Marcus stood rigid in our dirt yard, his face burning under neighbors’ stares. Two dazed piglets twitched on the gravel. His fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. “Tanya, these piglets are special—” “Shut up!” She yanked off a heel and hurled it at his chest. “Don’t call me Tanya! It’s vile! I’ve endured enough. Your barnyard stench, your cheap gifts of produce and animals. I’m going to be a star, Marcus. Being seen with a dirt-covered peasant ruins my reputation!” The heel left a dusty smear on his worn shirt. He didn’t flinch, but the light in his eyes dimmed. My chest tightened. In my past life, Marcus endured this humiliation. When his genius made him a billionaire, Tanya altered her face, wept that our parents forced her to leave, and Marcus forgave her. Then she drowned me in the septic tank and poisoned him for his fortune. This time, history would not repeat. I stepped forward, cradling the piglet close, and gently brushed the dust from Marcus’s chest. “Since Tanya doesn’t want them, these piglets belong to me now.” Tanya let out a harsh, mocking laugh, crossing her arms as she sneered at me. “Gwen, are you really that desperate for a man? You’re actually collecting my discarded garbage?” “Fine! I’ll happily bless this match made in heaven!” “Mom! Dad! Come out here! Gwen is about to elope with the pig farmer!” At Tanya’s scream, the screen door of our farmhouse was thrown open, and my parents marched out, their faces dark with fury. My mother didn’t even hesitate, stepping forward to shove me hard against the wooden railing. “You shameless, disgraceful girl!” she shrieked, her finger nearly poking my eye out. “Your sister is trying to end things with this loser, and you’re out here making a fool of yourself?” “Are you trying to give your father a heart attack?” My father’s face was as dark as a thundercloud, his calloused hand gripping his walking stick as he pointed it at Marcus. “Get out! Take your filthy animals and get off my property!” “If I ever catch you lurking around Tanya again, I’ll break your legs!” Marcus flinched, bending down to retrieve the remaining piglet from the gravel. I reached out, firmly grabbing his wrist. His hand was rough, covered in thick callouses from years of hard labor, but it was incredibly warm. Looking directly into my parents’ furious eyes, I spoke clearly, letting every neighbor hear. “I’m keeping Marcus.” “And we are keeping these piglets.” “Since Tanya thinks he’s not good enough, I’ll take his hand instead.” Tanya doubled over with laughter, her voice dripping with malice. “Oh my god! Mom, Dad, did you hear that?” “My sister is so starved for affection she’s actually willing to settle for a guy who smells like pig manure!” “Fine, Gwen. This is your choice. When you’re eating slop and sleeping in a barn, don’t you dare come back crying to us!” My mother searched the yard wildly, grabbing a broom. “Unbelievable! Absolutely disgraceful!” “How did I raise such a shameless leech?” “If you walk out of this yard with that peasant, don’t you ever think about calling us family again!” 2 I stared at these people, my biological family, with absolute detachment. In my past life, when I was drowning in that septic tank, gasping for air and screaming for help, they had stood on the edge, watching me die. Tanya had convinced them that only my silence would guarantee the massive payout Marcus would offer to avoid a scandal. They had taken my blood money, used it to fund Tanya’s career, and moved into a massive mansion. I had absolutely no attachment left to this house. Taking a deep breath, I tightened my grip on Marcus’s hand. “Fine.” “Remember those words.” “From this day on, I have no family.” Without looking back, I pulled the stunned Marcus toward the gate, leaving the screaming behind us. Tanya’s bitter curses followed us down the dirt road. “Gwen! You’ll regret this!” “You’re meant to spend your entire life crawling in the dirt!” Regret? A cold smile played on my lips. Tanya, very soon, you’ll see exactly who is destined to crawl in the dirt. Once we reached the main road, Marcus stopped, gently pulling his hand from mine. He kept his head low, unable to look me in the eye. “Gwen… please, don’t do this. Don’t ruin your life for me.” “I’m just a nobody. I’m not worthy of you.” “Go back and apologize to your parents. Don’t throw away your family over a guy like me.” I turned to face him, staring at the honest, hardworking man. Who would believe that this shy, bruised farmer would one day control the global agricultural supply chain? I lifted the piglet in my arms, holding it up between us. “Marcus, do you trust me?” He blinked, nodding instinctively. “Yes.” “Then take me to your farm.” I met his gaze, my voice steady. “I want to invest.” Marcus’s farm sat at the base of the foothills. Calling it a farm was generous; it was mostly just a few run-down wooden barns surrounded by a wire fence. The air was a thick mix of fermented feed and manure. In my past life, I would have wrinkled my nose. But today, it smelled like absolute fortune. Marcus scrambled to clear a dusty plastic chair, wiping it down frantically with his sleeve. “Please, sit. It’s dirty out here. I’m sorry.” I didn’t sit, walking straight toward the pens. The two piglets Tanya had thrown were already resting in a separate pen. They looked exhausted, but their eyes were bright and active. Most piglets were a generic pink or black. But these piglets had a distinct, almost imperceptible tuft of golden hair behind their ears. These were the legendary Kirin Swine. In my past life, Marcus had utilized this rare, gene-edited breed to extract a highly specialized active enzyme. Not only did they produce the most premium meat on the market, but their biological profile was crucial for organ transplantation research. A single mature breeding hog was worth a fortune. “Marcus, these aren’t ordinary farm pigs, are they?” I turned to look at him. The water pitcher in his hand shook, spilling water onto the concrete floor. He stared at me, his mouth slightly open. “How… how did you know?” “A genetics professor at the university gave me these experimental specimens. He said if I could keep them alive, they could be worth millions.” “But they’re incredibly fragile. The slightest temperature change or feed imbalance makes them sick. I’ve already poured all my savings into them.” “That’s why Tanya left. She said I was throwing money down a drain…” His expression darkened at the mention of her name. I walked over, taking the pitcher from his hands. “She has no vision. It’s her loss.” “Marcus, I have fifty thousand dollars in savings. I’m investing all of it in your farm.” “We’re going to raise these Kirins together.” Marcus waved his hands frantically. “No! I can’t take your money!” “We don’t even know if they’ll survive the winter! I can’t let you risk everything on me!” I pulled out my phone, immediately executing the wire transfer right in front of him. A quiet chime echoed from his pocket. Marcus pulled out his phone, staring at the notification, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. “Gwen…” “Don’t call me Gwen. Call me your partner.” I offered a small smile, rolling up my sleeves. “From today on, I’m staying here.” “You buy the premium feed, and I’ll handle the daily care.” 3 Over the next few weeks, I moved into the small storage room next to the main barn. I woke up before dawn every morning to mix the feed, wash the pens, and monitor the piglets’ vital signs. Marcus was hesitant to let me work at first, but when he saw that my handling was even more efficient than his, he slowly let his guard down. The two of us worked like clockwork, our entire world revolving around those piglets. Meanwhile, the local gossip spread like wildfire. When I went to the local general store to buy salt, a group of neighborhood women gossiping by the register immediately went quiet, whispering loudly enough for me to hear. “Isn’t that the older daughter from the Mercer family?” “I heard she’s already living with that pig farmer.” “Disgraceful. Throwing away a decent life just to shovel manure.” “Her sister Tanya is the one with real prospects. Apparently, she’s dating some wealthy city boy, ready to move to a penthouse.” “That’s just destiny, I suppose. The older sister was always meant to be a peasant.” I paid for my salt, keeping my face entirely blank as I walked out. As I approached the farm gate, I spotted a sleek red BMW parked on the grass. Tanya, dressed in a designer skirt, was clinging to the arm of a man in dark sunglasses, pointing at our wooden barns with a look of theatrical disgust. The man had bleached yellow hair, a heavy gold chain around his neck, and a smug, arrogant expression. “Oh, look, my sister is back,” Tanya drawled, dramatically clutching her nose as she leaned into the man’s chest. “Babe, look at her clothes. They look absolutely filthy.” “Keep your distance, sweetie. We don’t want her ruining your Armani.” The yellow-haired man took off his sunglasses, scanning me with a dismissive smirk. “So this is your idiot sister, Tanya?” “She’s not bad-looking, but she’s clearly lacking in the brain department, settling for a beggar.” Hearing the noise, Marcus rushed out of the barn, holding a heavy manure bucket. Seeing Tanya, he instinctively tried to hide the bucket behind his back. “What… what are you doing here?” Tanya let out a dry, venomous chuckle. “Just checking to see if you two are still breathing.” “Still playing with these pathetic pigs?” “Marcus, let me introduce my boyfriend, Chad. His family owns a massive chain of supermarkets.” “If you drop to your knees and beg, maybe Chad can find you a job throwing boxes in his warehouse.” Chad wrapped his arm around Tanya’s waist, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “Exactly. You look like you have decent muscle. We pay three grand a month for heavy lifting. That should buy you plenty of pig feed, right? Haha!” Marcus’s face flushed deep red, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the handle of the bucket. “We don’t need your charity. Please leave.” Tanya’s smile vanished, her eyes turning cold. “Ungrateful loser!” “Chad, let’s go. This place smells like a dump.” As she turned to leave, her gaze settled on the piglets in the pen. “Oh, by the way, sister.” “I hear these genetic pigs are your entire life?” “Make sure you watch them closely. It would be a shame if they suddenly dropped dead.” With a cruel smirk, she pulled a dark chocolate bar from her designer bag and tossed it directly into the pen. “Here, you filthy animals! Enjoy!” The smallest Golden Kirin piglet immediately trotted toward the chocolate, sniffing it curiously. Chocolate is highly toxic to pigs. My heart leapt into my throat. Dropping the salt, I lunged over the wooden railing. “Don’t touch it!” I snatched the chocolate away just as the piglet’s teeth clamped down, its sharp tusk grazing the back of my hand, leaving a long, bleeding scratch. Tanya watched my frantic struggle, laughing hysterically. “Oh my god, Gwen! Are you actually fighting a pig for food?” “You must be absolutely starving!” 4 Chad joined in her laughter as he started the BMW. The car kicked up a massive cloud of dust as they roared down the dirt road. I clutched the crushed chocolate bar in my hand, watching the dust settle with a cold, unwavering focus. Marcus dropped his bucket, rushing to my side to grab my bleeding hand. “Gwen! Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He was sweating profusely, tears of anxiety welling in his eyes. “This is my fault… I’m so useless…” I pulled my hand back, casually wiping the blood on my jeans. “Don’t cry, Marcus.” “Tears don’t solve anything.” I squeezed my hand, crushing the chocolate to dust. “Remember the humiliation they brought us today.” “Very soon, I will make sure they pay it back a hundredfold.” A month later, the piglets were thriving. The golden tufts behind their ears were becoming more pronounced, and their growth rate far exceeded that of ordinary breeds. Marcus spent his evenings recording data, practically vibrating with excitement. “Gwen! At this rate, they’ll be ready for evaluation in two months!” “The professor said if this first generation survives, we can extract the active enzyme for lab testing.” “If the data meets the standard, pharmaceutical companies will buy them at a premium; easily a hundred times the price of ordinary livestock!” A hundred times. That was hundreds of thousands of dollars. But I knew this was only the beginning. The real value of these Kirins lay in their genetic patent. That was a multi-billion-dollar asset. However, trouble always travels faster than fortune. One afternoon, while I was mixing the grain feed, our farm gate was violently kicked open. My parents marched into the yard, followed by several burly men. Leading them was a middle-aged man with a severe limp, a pockmarked face, and a greasy, unsettling smile. It was Greer, a wealthy but notoriously abusive bachelor from the neighboring town. He had a reputation for violence, and three of his previous wives had fled the state to escape him. Seeing Greer, my stomach turned. “Mom, Dad, what is the meaning of this?” I demanded, stepping in front of the pen, my hand gripping a shovel. My mother lunged forward, trying to grab my arm. “What does it look like? We’re taking you home to secure your future!” “Have you lost your mind, living in this dump?” “Your sister Tanya is entering a major modeling competition and needs funding to secure her connections.” “Mr. Greer has offered a twenty-thousand-dollar dowry for your hand!” “Pack your things and marry him today!” Twenty thousand dollars? To fund Tanya’s vanity, they were willing to sell me to a known abuser? I let out a cold, bitter laugh. “If Tanya needs money so badly, why don’t you sell her?” “Why is it always my life on the line?” “How dare you!” my father roared, stepping forward to strike my shoulder with his walking stick. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through my back, nearly forcing me to my knees. “Disgraceful girl! How dare you speak of your sister that way?” “Tanya is destined for greatness! You’re nothing but dirt!” “Being able to support your sister is the only useful thing you’ll ever do!” Greer let out a greasy chuckle, revealing a row of yellow teeth as he limped toward me. “So this is Gwen? You certainly have spirit.” “Come with me. As long as you know your place, I won’t have to discipline you too harshly.” He reached out a beefy hand to grab my wrist. “Get away from me!” I swung the shovel, striking his hand with the flat of the metal. Greer let out a sharp howl, clutching his bruised fingers. “You little bitch! Grab her! Tie her up and throw her in the truck!” The hired thugs immediately closed in. “Marcus!” I screamed. Marcus, who had been cutting clover in the hills, came running at the sound of my voice. Seeing the scene, his eyes turned bloodshot with fury. “Get your hands off her!” He brandished his scythe, charging the thugs like a wild animal. But he was outnumbered. Within seconds, several men tackled him to the ground, punches raining down on his face until blood dripped from his lip. Two men pinned my arms behind my back, rendering me completely helpless. My mother gestured frantically to the truck. “Hurry! Throw her in!” “Mr. Greer, when will the funds clear?” Greer spat on the ground, glaring at me with venomous promise. “The second she’s locked in my basement, the money is yours.” “She has a wild mouth. I’ll make sure to break her in once we get home!”

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A video of me scolding a child trended number one on Twitter. Netizens quickly figured out the kid was the son of NYC’s most elusive billionaire heir. My rival starlet tweeted her outrage: [She looks glamorous on the outside, but who knew she was a child abuser in private? Is she bullying him because he doesn’t have a mother?] Haters united to boycott me, screaming for me to get out of Hollywood. Me: “?” Wait… who said this kid doesn’t have a mother? That night, the billionaire heir tagged me: [Allow me to introduce everyone to my wife.] 1 Early in the morning, before I was even fully awake, my manager Valerie burst through my front door in a panic. “Scarlett, you’re finished!” I was completely confused, but her face looked like the sky had just fallen. “How could you have the nerve to hit Harrison Vance’s son?!” Me: “???” Valerie quickly unlocked her phone and shoved it into my face. A hashtag titled #ScarlettBlakeChildAbuse was sitting at the number one trending spot. In the video, I was pinching a little three-or-four-year-old boy’s cheeks, my mouth moving as I clearly lectured him about something. The kid looked up at me with big, teary eyes, standing perfectly still, not daring to move an inch. Because of the camera angle, my expression—which was actually super gentle at the time—looked incredibly harsh and aggressive in the video. [Oh my god, is that Scarlett Blake? What the hell is she doing?!] [Hurting a kid? That poor little boy looks terrified!] [That’s not just hurting a kid, that’s straight-up child abuse! Industry insiders have always said Scarlett is selfish, manic, and uses people as punching bags! I can’t believe she’s not even sparing a toddler! Look at her terrifying face!] The comment section under the video was a cesspool of rumors and insults. Naturally, a few people tried to defend me. That is, until someone posted a specific photo. It was a paparazzi shot of Harrison Vance holding a little boy’s hand at a private charity gala. In the photo, the man wore a sharp black suit. He was devastatingly handsome, his dark, deep-set eyes radiating a cold, untouchable aura. And the little boy holding his hand looked like a carbon copy cut from the exact same mold! [Holy crap! That kid is Harrison Vance’s son!] Everyone knew Harrison Vance, the elusive heir to the Vance empire, the ultimate “Prince of Wall Street.” He had a son whose biological mother was a complete mystery. But it was common knowledge that Harrison spoiled this kid to the heavens. No one was allowed to so much as bump into him. Harrison took his son everywhere. Once, a rival corporate executive tried to secretly “invite” little Hudson over for a “chat.” Although the kidnapping attempt failed, the billionaire heir was so furious he ruthlessly acquired and liquidated every single company under the rival’s name. That incident sent shockwaves through New York’s elite circles. The moment this photo was dropped into the thread, the internet went dead silent for a minute before exploding into unprecedented chaos. Anyone who had been defending me immediately shut their mouths. [Scarlett is done! She is completely finished! Who gave her the audacity to abuse Harrison Vance’s son?!] [Serves her right! I’ve always hated her. She’s probably going to lose her life over this, let alone her career!] At the same time, a few other celebrities decided to jump into the fray. Among them was my biggest rival, the up-and-coming starlet Harper Monroe. Since her debut, she had skyrocketed to fame by copying my fashion sense and acting roles, earning her the nickname “Little Scarlett.” But unlike my edgy, straight-shooting persona, she loved playing the pure, innocent sweetheart on the internet. Harper posted a tweet: [It’s shocking how some people look so glamorous on the outside, but are actually so vicious and cruel. How could anyone commit child abuse? Doesn’t this cross the line into criminal liability?] She even tagged several high-profile celebrity lawyers in the replies. Even though she didn’t name me directly, everyone knew exactly who she was talking about. Her engagement skyrocketed, and her comment section became a breeding ground for people hurling death threats at me. 2 I’ve always been a polarizing figure in Hollywood. I have a massive base of die-hard fans, but an equally massive army of haters. The tiniest thing I do gets magnified a thousand times and instantly hits the trending page. Let alone when my name was suddenly put in the same sentence as “Child Abuse” and “Billionaire Heir.” Valerie’s phone was ringing off the hook. When the trend first started, most of my brand sponsors and business partners were secretly watching from the sidelines, waiting to see how it played out. But the moment it was revealed that the kid was Harrison Vance’s son, they all started calling to terminate my contracts. Me: “…” Harrison and I had been secretly married for five years. Hudson is my son. I thought my own kid looked cute, so I pinched his cheeks. Is that a crime?! Yesterday, I had just rushed out of a commercial shoot and was hurrying to my next schedule when I saw my son waiting for me. He looked up at me pitifully and said Daddy had prepared a candlelight dinner and wanted to invite me home to eat. If he could, Harrison would prepare six meals a day just to keep me at home! My temples throbbed. I was terrified the paparazzi would photograph the kid—it was way less safe for him to be seen with me than with Harrison. So, I sternly told him to hurry back to his dad’s car. I didn’t expect a paparazzi to actually catch it, much less post it online and frame it as child abuse. Valerie collapsed onto my sofa, muttering, “It’s over… it’s over… it’s all over.” Seeing her looking so defeated, I felt a twinge of guilt. “Valerie, maybe there’s a turning point…” But before I could finish, she cut me off, wailing, “What turning point?! Everyone knows you don’t mess with Harrison Vance’s son! You could have pinched anyone! You could have pinched me! Why did you have to provoke his kid?!” I opened my mouth to explain, but her phone rang again. When Valerie came back from taking the call, her eyes were shining. “Scarlett! A reality TV show just reached out! They’re offering three times your usual rate! Let’s do one last big heist before you get blacklisted from the industry!” Me: “…” Looking at Valerie’s desperate, hopeful face, I sighed and nodded. 3 It was a travel and lifestyle reality show. The producers clearly saw the massive traffic my scandal was generating. They didn’t just invite me; they invited Harper Monroe, too. The entire show was broadcast via livestream. When I arrived on set, Harper was literally facing the camera, giving a legal PSA: “Child abuse is a felony. In severe cases, it constitutes a criminal offense that can carry actual prison time…” The live chat was flooded with comments praising Harper for being so beautiful and kind-hearted. However, the moment she saw me, her face turned ice-cold. The cameras immediately zoomed in on me, and the chat exploded. [Holy shit! How does Scarlett have the nerve to show her face on a live broadcast right now?!] [Where are the cops?! Why hasn’t she been arrested yet?! She committed a crime!] [Five stars to Harper! Our girl is so straightforward and hates injustice! You can tell just by her face how angry she is to see Scarlett!] [That was child abuse! Even I was furious watching it! Toxic Scarlett, get out of the entertainment industry!] Harper walked right up to me and demanded, “Scarlett, do you have anything to say for yourself regarding your abuse of that child?” I let out a cold laugh. “I have absolutely nothing to say to you. If you’re sick, go to a doctor. Don’t come barking at me; I’m not a vet.” My reputation on the internet was already in the gutter, and I had always despised Harper anyway, so I didn’t bother holding back. Harper’s face flushed bright red, clearly furious. The livestream viewers launched a new wave of attacks against me. [Damn! That bitch Scarlett actually dared to call Harper sick?!] [Toxic Scarlett! I want to rip her face off!] [Honestly, I kind of agree with Scarlett here. If you just watch the video, she’s literally just pinching a kid’s cheek. It doesn’t look like actual abuse. It’s one thing for netizens to gossip, but Harper is a public figure pinning a felony charge on her, lecturing about the law on a livestream, and leading a hate mob. She deserved to get roasted.] [To the person above, you’re disgusting. You probably enjoy abusing kids in your free time too, huh?] There were a few people speaking up for me, but they were quickly buried under an avalanche of hate. Harper sneered. “Scarlett, don’t be so arrogant. We live in a society with laws. Everyone has to pay for what they’ve done! Harrison won’t let you get away with this!” Harrison? What the hell was that? She called him by his first name like they were close friends? The livestream viewers were just as curious. [Wait, Harrison? Does she mean Harrison Vance?] [Does Goddess Harper actually know the billionaire heir personally? Otherwise, why would she call him so casually?] [Ahhh! Harper, tell us! What’s your connection?!] Harper saw the comments scrolling by on the monitor. She took a deep breath, a smug smile tugging at her lips, and looked directly into the camera. “That’s right. I wasn’t going to say anything. But Scarlett has gone too far. I can’t just stand by while she bullies my little nephew!” “As his aunt, I couldn’t just watch! I had to stand up! The truth is… Harrison Vance is my cousin!” Harrison’s cousin?! Why did I not know about this?! 4 Harper’s declaration sent a massive tsunami through the livestream. The chat went absolute feral. [NO WAY! Harper is Harrison Vance’s cousin?! She kept that hidden so well! I’ve never heard a single rumor about this!] [Omg I’m crying! My girl really comes from a super-wealthy background, but she’s still so beautiful and hardworking! She deserves all her fame!] [Scarlett is officially dead meat! She bullied the young master of the Vance family, and now his aunt is standing right here!] [At first, I thought Harper was just clout-chasing, but she actually stepped up because she’s fiercely protective of her family. Respect.] I furrowed my brows, voicing the exact question in my head: “How come I’ve never heard that you were Harrison Vance’s cousin?” Harrison is an only child. Even though our marriage is a secret to the public, I know almost all of his relatives. I had never heard of him having a cousin named Harper. Seeing the viewer count skyrocketing, the director of the show got visibly excited. The name “Harrison Vance” represented absolute power and endless traffic, but the man himself was unreachable. Now that “Harrison’s cousin” was standing right in front of him, the director knew he had to milk this opportunity! Immediately, the director signaled the cameraman to give Harper a close-up. “Harper, does that mean you hid your identity in Hollywood just to experience life as a normal person?” Harper gave the camera a perfectly practiced, modest smile. “Being an actress has always been my dream. The reason I never mentioned my background is that I didn’t want people to think my success came from my cousin’s empire. I wanted to prove my own worth to everyone.” [Oh my god! I love her so much! She works so hard!] [I’ve always said stan Harper! She never disappoints!] Harper’s words instantly trended on X. #HarperMonroeSecretHeiress #HarperMonroeChasingDreams Her hashtags dominated the trending page, and her follower count skyrocketed by the second. I only found all this out from listening to the production staff whispering off-camera; as part of the show’s rules, all guests had our phones confiscated. Striking while the iron was hot, the director asked, “Harper, our next filming location is in Aspen. I’ve heard the Vance family owns a massive private estate there. Do you think you could ask Mr. Vance to lend the estate to our production crew for a few days?” “No problem,” Harper agreed without missing a beat. I narrowed my eyes. Harrison did own a massive mansion in Aspen. I was the one who picked it out. The scenery was stunning, and it was large enough to easily house an entire production crew. But that property was legally registered under my name. “Did you even ask the owner of the house? And you just casually agreed?” I asked. Harper frowned, looking at me with deep annoyance. “My cousin and I are incredibly close. What’s the problem with me borrowing his house for a few days?” A young woman in a white dress walked up and linked her arm through Harper’s. “Harper, some people are just jealous and bitter. Let’s just ignore her.” This was Madison Hayes, another actress participating in the show. There were six guests in total: me, Harper, Madison, and three male celebrities. Right now, the other five were clustered together, deliberately keeping their distance from me. Off-camera, Valerie was frantically winking at me, signaling me not to pick a fight. I clenched my hands and kept my mouth shut. I really wanted to see how Harper planned to get into that Aspen mansion.

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After witnessing my mother’s devastatingly tragic marriage, I unexpectedly returned to the past and met my mother from ten years ago. My mother asked me excitedly: “Manuela, did your father hold a wedding for me after his undercover work ended? Did I successfully buy a new house in Seattle?” I swallowed the bitterness in my heart and answered one by one: “There was no wedding, no new house either. Dad… he already has a wife.” My mother remained silent for a long time. Thinking she didn’t believe me, I panicked: “Mom, leave Dad quickly. Staying near him will only bring you misery.” “His real child is my classmate Julian. He’s not undercover. He’s the heir to Seattle’s Christopher Group. He’s been pretending to be poor to deceive you.” “Later, Julian’s mother will fight with you. You’ll lose your job, end up on the streets, and eventually commit suicide from depression.” I saw my mother’s eyes turn red. “Today is Children’s Day, isn’t it? You must have seen Dad taking that mother and daughter to Disneyland, right?” “Go follow them and ask that woman. Once you ask, you’ll understand everything.”

My mother held five-year-old me as we approached Julian’s mother, Henrichs. After learning that Julian and I were classmates, Henrichs invited us to eat together. She eagerly ordered an ice cream cone. When she noticed my mother’s gaze landing on her belly, she smiled. “My husband is pretty strict with me. Since I got pregnant, he won’t let me eat anything. I’m craving it so badly.” My mother asked softly, “Are you due soon?” “Should be sometime this month. It’s a boy.” My mother smiled. “Your husband must be very happy.” “Oh yes, he’s so excited. It’s our second child and he’s still making such a fuss.” My mother said wistfully, “You two have such a good relationship.” Henrichs enjoyed my mother’s words, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. “It’s alright. I once ran off to study abroad in a fit of anger, and he came all that way to find me.” “To satisfy my vanity, he accompanied me to take ninety-nine sets of wedding photos.” I couldn’t help but think of the loving stories about her and Dad that my mother had told me countless times. She came to Seattle for college and fell in love at first sight with poor boy Dad. After graduation, they registered their marriage. My mother was considerate of Dad’s work, so they had no wedding ceremony or honeymoon—just a marriage certificate. The photo on the marriage certificate was even photoshopped on, because Dad had no time to take pictures. The day after the wedding, Dad went abroad. Even after I was born, Dad never came home, never even held me. My mother would always console herself, saying Dad was just busy with work and couldn’t get away. But the truth later cut her to shreds. Henrichs continued complaining sweetly: “My husband is so good to me. He even wants to arrange the most expensive maternity center in Seattle for me.” “He won’t let me do anything. He’s practically spoiling me.” My mother’s hands trembled slightly. I remembered my mother saying she went to work without properly resting after childbirth, which left her with lasting health problems. She worked three hundred sixty-five days a year, never willing to rest. At this moment, Henrichs suddenly asked my mother: “What about your husband? Can’t he even make time to spend Children’s Day with his child?” My mother smiled bitterly. Henrichs seemed to understand and comforted her. “Actually, all men are like that. When I was abroad, my husband also found someone else.” “But what’s funny is that he pretended to be poor the whole time, afraid that woman would be after his money.” “He’s a CEO, but every day he ate street food with that woman. I actually felt kind of sorry for him.” My mother forced a smile: “Really? What happened to that woman later?” Henrichs shrugged: “I think she had a daughter, got a fake certificate, and is probably living in some dump somewhere now.” “Actually, she’s pretty pathetic too. My husband even lied to her, saying he worked as some kind of undercover agent. She couldn’t even get a decent house.” “Tell me, what could she possibly see in my husband? Surely not love?” At that moment, a familiar voice rang out from behind us. “Henrichs, sneaking ice cream behind my back again.”

I turned around. It was my father from ten years ago. He looked down at Henrichs, doting with a hint of helplessness. “The doctor said you can’t eat cold things right now.” Henrichs leaned toward him coquettishly. “I only had one bite. Don’t be so mean.” I secretly glanced at my mother. Her face was as white as paper, her eyes fixed on my father’s back. My father saw my mother. His eyes were calm and still, as if looking at a stranger. I thought my mother would impulsively confront him, but instead she just held five-year-old me tightly without making a sound. After my father and Henrichs left, my mother silently cried. She showed me her phone. My father had sent her a message telling her not to make a scene. I kept wiping her tears, but they wouldn’t stop. “Don’t cry, Mom. He’s not worth it.” That night, my father came to the urban village where my mother lived. My mother punched and kicked him, crying her heart out. “Why did you lie to me? What do you take me for?” “Do you know that for all these years, our daughter has been mocked as a bastard child, told she has no father?” My father was silent for a while, then pulled out a card and stuffed it into my mother’s hand. “There’s a million dollars here. Take it, but don’t make trouble with Henrichs.” Previously, to maintain his pretense of being poor, my father never transferred more than a thousand dollars to my mother. Now he was giving a million at once. My mother looked down at the card and smiled mockingly. “Wallace, you deceived me for ten years. Is that only worth a million dollars?” “That’s not what I mean. Manuela is about to start elementary school. Haven’t you always wanted to buy a new house closer to school?” “I’ll figure out the house situation, but not right now. Henrichs is watching me closely…” She threw the card at him. “Just leave. Don’t come back anymore.” “Montoya, calm down. I have my reasons…” I stood up and pushed my father. “Get out of here and stop harassing Mom!” My father’s gaze paused, questioning my mother: “Who is she? Why is she calling you Mom?” My mother had no obligation to tell him. She pushed and kicked him out the door. After everything quieted down, my mother stared at the window where no moon could be seen. “Every time he lied to me about going abroad for missions, he was taking that mother and daughter on vacation?” My eyes dimmed. I nodded. While my mother worried whether he was eating and sleeping well abroad, he was watching the snow fall with Henrichs. All of Seattle’s upper circles knew that my father was deeply devoted to Henrichs. The next day, my mother was supposed to go to work but was told she was fired. Thinking about next semester’s tuition that would soon be due, my mother’s voice rose anxiously: “You can’t fire me without cause. I’ll sue you.” But the boss said, “Go ahead. But Mr. Wallace can handle this with one phone call. You should save yourself the trouble.” My mother had no choice but to return to the rental house dejectedly, only to find all her belongings had been thrown out by the landlord. “I’m not renting this place to you anymore. You need to move out today.” My heart sank: “Henrichs must have found out about you. We need to get back to Chicago quickly.” I knew that because of my appearance, the timeline had moved up. Though Henrichs pretended not to care that my father kept a woman on the side, she was actually intensely jealous and wished she could skin my mother alive. But young Mom was more stubborn than I imagined. She was unwilling to give up on Seattle, where she had struggled for five years. After randomly finding a budget hotel to stay in, she began submitting resumes online. But without exception, all were rejected. Some people even mocked my mother directly: “Isn’t being Mr. Wallace’s mistress good enough? Why do you need to find work?” Henrichs even publicly attacked my mother online as a homewrecker, accusing her of taking my father’s million dollars. Internet users followed the narrative and tore my mother apart. My mother fought back defiantly, posting chat records with my father to prove she wasn’t a homewrecker. But those posts were quickly flagged as violations and prohibited from spreading. Little Manuela came back from kindergarten crying: “The other kids wouldn’t play with me today. They said Mom stole Julian’s dad…” My mother held her tightly. “Manuela, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry…” After hitting wall after wall, she finally decided to leave Seattle.

But just before we left for the train station, little Manuela suddenly developed a high fever. My mother couldn’t worry about the train. She carried me and ran to the hospital. “I’m sorry, miss, but the hospital is short-staffed.” As soon as the doctor finished speaking, my mother fell to her knees. “Please, doctor, please! My daughter is only five years old. She’s dying!” The doctor said helplessly: “Miss, it’s really not that I won’t save her. It’s that Mr. Wallace’s daughter caught a cold, and all our pediatric attending physicians have been transferred there.” My mother rushed out of the hospital like a madwoman. She took a taxi and went from hospital to hospital asking, getting rejected at every single one. “Please, save my daughter!” But the answer was the same everywhere. All pediatric attending physicians had been transferred to the private hospital under the Henrichs Group. At that moment, my mother’s mind went blank. She called my father with trembling hands. “Wallace, Manuela is dying… Please save her, please save her…” But my father demanded that my mother livestream an apology to Henrichs and admit to being a homewrecker before he would agree to have someone treat me. I knew what consequences my mother would face if she compromised. I shook my head, urging my mother to refuse. But my mother agreed immediately. She turned to me and said, “Being insulted doesn’t matter, as long as my Manuela is healthy.” My father, afraid that Henrichs would suffer even the slightest grievance, even promoted the livestream. Countless vicious comments flooded the comment section. My mother was quickly torn apart by abuse. The hashtag #Montoya Is A Homewrecker# quickly topped the trending list. Only then was my father satisfied. He was about to call a doctor to examine me. But at that very moment, Henrichs clutched her belly and cried out in pain. No one paid attention to my mother and me anymore. They all surrounded Henrichs. My mother anxiously grabbed the doctor. “Please look at my daughter first. She’s really dying…” The doctor shook off my mother’s hand. “Mrs. Henrichs’s pregnancy is unstable. Everyone, out of the way!” My mother was pushed so hard she hit the wall. I quickly stepped forward to support her. “Mom, are you okay?” My mother didn’t pay attention to me. She stumbled after them: “Please, just look at my daughter for a moment…” At that moment, a doctor rushed out frantically: “This is bad, Mr. Wallace! Your wife is hemorrhaging. She needs a blood transfusion immediately!” My father shouted at him, “Contact the blood bank now!” The doctor wiped his sweat. “But your wife has rare Rh-negative blood. The hospital’s blood bank doesn’t have a matching type…” My mother suddenly trembled, shakily trying to pull me away. At that moment, my father’s gaze fell on little Manuela. He suddenly became somewhat excited. “Manuela… Manuela also has Rh-negative blood, right?”

My mother kept backing away: “No, my daughter is so small… She has so little blood. You can’t take hers…” My father’s assistant carefully spoke up: “Mr. Wallace, why don’t I check other hospitals again? Maybe we can find another Rh-negative volunteer. The child really is too small.” “There’s no time.” The doctor urged, “Mr. Wallace, please make a decision quickly. Your wife’s blood pressure is dropping.” At that moment, Henrichs’s screams came from the delivery room, each one more agonizing than the last. Several bodyguards suddenly restrained my mother, preventing her from moving. My mother screamed, “Wallace, are you even human! She’s only five years old!” I was about to step forward to help when a bodyguard beside me kicked me mercilessly, sending me sprawling to the ground. My father forcibly took little Manuela from my mother’s arms. My mother struggled desperately: “Wallace, let her go! She’s only five! Taking her blood will kill her!” From inside the room came the nurse’s hesitant voice. “Mr. Wallace, this child is too young. We can only draw 100 milliliters at most. Any more would be life-threatening.” My father said impatiently, “What good is 100 milliliters? Draw at least 200.” “But that really doesn’t comply with regulations…” My father’s voice was cold as ice. “Draw it! If anything happens, I’ll take responsibility!” Soon, little Manuela’s cries came from the room, each one weaker than the last. My mother’s heart was breaking, cold to the bone. “Wallace, if anything happens to Manuela, I will never forgive you in this lifetime!” But before long, Henrichs came out of the delivery room. “Why is she crying so miserably? Didn’t Wallace tell you that your daughter’s purpose is to be my blood bank?” She looked well, not at all like someone who had just given birth. My mother looked at my father in disbelief. Henrichs said magnanimously, “Let me tell you the truth. The car accident when you were seven months pregnant wasn’t an accident. Wallace orchestrated it.” “If we hadn’t later seen that your daughter’s blood type matched mine and could serve as my mobile blood bank, your daughter might not have even been born.” “You should thank your daughter for being useful.” I knew about this too. My mother said she almost lost me, with no relatives by her side. She stayed in the hospital alone for several days, immersed in dark terror. So it was all orchestrated by my father. He never wanted me to be born at all. Entering the room, my mother held little Manuela, her expression numb. She suddenly said to me, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” My nose suddenly felt sour. “It’s okay. Everything can still be fixed.” While little Manuela was still receiving IV fluids, Henrichs actually had two bodies—one large, one small—brought from the morgue. I knew she was warning my mother that if she didn’t comply, she would end up like these two bodies. My mother, trembling with rage, set fire to the entire ward and fled with us. Meanwhile, Wallace had finally finished processing the paperwork for the new house and was about to have my mother sign when… He saw thick smoke from the hospital’s top floor! His assistant suddenly rushed over in a panic. Wallace’s heart skipped a beat. “What’s wrong?” His assistant looked terrified: “The ward where Miss Montoya was staying is on fire!”

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The night my in-laws were kidnapped, my husband wanted to go camping with his first love. I didn’t try to stop him. I just called the police immediately. In my past life, because I stopped him, he went to save his parents instead of being with his first love. Later, his first love was mauled to death by wild wolves in the mountains. Her death was horrifying. Afterward, my husband said nothing, until I was pregnant and about to give birth—that’s when he threw me into the deep mountains. “Petra, if it weren’t for you, Barbara wouldn’t have died!” “What gives you the right to live peacefully? I want to watch you suffer everything she suffered!” I died along with my unborn child, torn apart by wild beasts. When I woke again, I had returned to the day my in-laws were kidnapped. This time he didn’t participate in the rescue. He got his wish and saved his first love, but his hair turned white overnight. I screamed in terror and opened my eyes. I was drenched in cold sweat, my clothes completely soaked. The pain of my flesh being torn still seemed to linger. I reached down to touch my flat stomach, listening to my heartbeat, tears streaming down my face like broken pearls. I fumbled around for my phone and checked the time. I had been reborn—reborn to the day my in-laws were kidnapped. Soon the kidnappers would call, demanding we prepare thirty million in ransom and deliver it within half an hour, or they’d kill the hostages immediately. Harris and I had been childhood sweethearts. Our parents had arranged our engagement when we were young—a marriage alliance. Whether for the family union or my own feelings, I was destined to become his wife. I knew he had an ex, but his family didn’t approve. Before the wedding, I’d asked him if he was willing to marry me, if he was marrying me because he loved me. He’d said yes to both. I’d entered our marriage with peace of mind. After the wedding, he was indifferent to me and maintained an ambiguous relationship with his ex. I pretended not to see, not to hear, saying nothing. I loved him. I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want to lose my marriage. For that, I paid with my life, and killed my child who I’d carried for ten months. Given a second chance, I would never make the same mistake. I watched Harris run downstairs and slowly got up from the sofa. When our eyes met, he looked at me and said in a low voice, “I won’t be coming home tonight.” I said nothing, turning my head to look at the phone beside the sofa. It was the kidnappers calling. I quickly answered and put it on speaker. “We have Suarez and Louise. Thirty million ransom, deliver it to the harbor warehouse in half an hour. If you call the police, I’ll kill them immediately!” The kidnapper’s voice reached Harris’s ears. He just frowned slightly, then laughed contemptuously. “Petra, is this really necessary?” “Is it fun having them put on this act with you?” Looking at his face, remembering how he’d watched as I fell into hell, the love I’d held for over a decade had long since vanished into smoke. “Harris, you heard the call. What you do is your business. I’m not getting involved.” “If you want to think we’re putting on an act, that’s fine.” “But I’m telling you one more time—I’m not acting with them.” Perhaps because I spoke so calmly, Harris hesitated for a moment. But in the end, he turned and walked away with large strides. In my past life, when we received the call, Harris had thought the same thing. But I knew I wasn’t acting with his parents, so I’d done everything to stop him. After searching all night, the two were finally rescued. After rescuing his parents, he left, and when he returned, he brought back news of Barbara’s death.

He blamed everything on me. After Harris left, I called the police directly. Thirty million wasn’t a small amount, and it had to be in cash. I couldn’t come up with it immediately, and even if the kidnappers got the money, they might not release the hostages. So I had to call the police and let professionals handle it. After I dialed 911, the nearest station would dispatch officers. But before the police arrived, I received a call from an acquaintance. “Petra, this is Nicholas. Did you and Harris have a fight?” My brow furrowed as I asked in a low voice, “Why are you calling me?” “Well, you just filed a police report, right? Even though we’re acquaintances, filing a false report isn’t a small matter. You and Harris can fight all you want, but you can’t mess around like this.” “Harris and Barbara have nothing going on. Making such a fuss makes Harris look ridiculous.” After listening for a while, I finally understood what he meant. “What are you saying? Harris told you I filed a false police report?” Facing my question, there was silence on the other end. I laughed coldly and said in a low voice, “Nicholas, I’m telling you to dispatch officers and handle this matter immediately, or I’ll file a complaint.” Nicholas snorted coldly. “Petra, don’t think everyone is like Harris, at your beck and call. I’m not your White family’s security guard.” “You’re just a shrew. You’re not worth a single hair on Barbara’s head.” After hearing those words, I hung up. Then I called 911 again and filed a complaint against Nicholas. The officers dispatched from another station arrived more than ten minutes later. They asked me some questions and listened to the recording of the first call. Everyone’s expressions were serious. They quickly traced the incoming number—it wasn’t registered, and when they called back, it was turned off. They could only wait for another call. The officers handling the case waited, while I contacted my private financial manager. “How much liquid cash do I have in my account?” “Seventeen million? Get all of it ready.” After hanging up, I called Harris’s uncle, Wilson. When he heard that Harris’s parents had been kidnapped, Wilson exclaimed, “Who did it? Is Harris there?” “I don’t know who the kidnappers are. Harris went camping with Barbara. The kidnappers want thirty million in cash. I can’t come up with enough on my own. Can you help me gather what you can? I’ll pay you back in a week.” “Child, why talk about paying back? How much more do you need?” “Thirteen million.” “Don’t worry, I’ll get it together.” The half hour passed quickly. They called again. I answered immediately. The tech officer nearby quickly began tracing the location, but soon shook his head—he couldn’t locate it. My heart sank gradually. I heard the person on the other end say fiercely, “Time’s up. Did you deliver the money?” “I haven’t gathered enough yet. Please give me more time. My husband isn’t here, and I don’t have that much money on hand.” “I said when time’s up and the money isn’t here, I’ll kill the hostages!” I quickly pleaded, “Don’t hurt them. You want money, right? Killing them won’t get you the money—it’s not worth it. Give me another half hour. In half an hour, I’ll definitely have the money ready.” As soon as I finished speaking, heart-wrenching screams came from my in-laws on the other end. The kidnapper’s sinister voice rang out again: “Half an hour—five fingers per person!” “If you want to stall, go right ahead!” After the call ended, Nicholas appeared at the door. He’d heard what was just said, and now his face was pale as he looked at me.

He explained weakly, “Harris called me and said the elders were acting with you, just to make him stay home…” I didn’t bother to speak. The officer beside me said, “Call Harris and tell him what happened.” Nicholas agreed and stepped aside to make the call. The phone showed the line was busy. Thinking of my mother-in-law’s delicate nature—how she’d need someone to blow on her hand if it was scalded by hot water—I couldn’t imagine how much pain she must be in now. I took a deep breath to calm myself and quickly called Wilson. His line was also busy. Just minutes after I hung up, Wilson called back. Before I could ask if he’d raised the money, I heard him sigh and say, “Petra, I have to say, how could you trick me with something like this? Suarez and Louise spoil you, but you need to tell them to do it in moderation. If I hadn’t asked Harris about it, you would have given me a heart attack.” In that instant, my heart turned to ash. “Harris told you we’re acting? You don’t have to believe me, but can you reach my in-laws? The police are right here beside me.” The person on the other end kept sighing, then said, “Harris has feelings for someone else, Petra. If it really doesn’t work out, just divorce him. That way you’ll both be free.” After I hung up, Nicholas got through to Harris. Nicholas said, “Harris, you need to come back. Your parents really seem to have been kidnapped.” The person speaking on the other end wasn’t Harris—it was Barbara. “Nicholas, are you acting along with Miss Petra too? Harris is barbecuing right now. I’ll get him to take the call.” After she spoke, I heard Barbara relay Nicholas’s message. Harris didn’t even take the phone. He just said to Barbara, “Hang up. That crazy woman Petra won’t let anyone have a moment’s peace.” The call was disconnected. Nicholas looked at me with furrowed brows. I looked down and smiled bitterly. “I have no leads, but they want the money delivered to the harbor warehouse. The money isn’t enough, but I have to go. If I act as bait, can it increase your chances of solving the case?” The female officer beside me said, “Miss Petra, let me deliver it for you.” I smiled. “What if the kidnappers recognize me? If you go, won’t that blow our cover? You can protect me from the perimeter. I’ll deliver it myself.” Since no one had a better plan, they agreed to my request. When the kidnappers called again, I deceived them, saying I’d raised the money and asking them to confirm the delivery location. I’d deliver it—hostages and money exchanged simultaneously. I heard a cold laugh, then a casual reply: “Sure.” My heart immediately felt something was wrong. Before he hung up, I asked, “I want to hear their voices.” “Why the rush, Miss Petra? You’ll see them soon enough.” After speaking, the call was cut off. I had my financial manager withdraw the money. I dragged a suitcase full of cash to the location the kidnappers specified, then received their call telling me to move, to go to the underground parking garage—the elders were waiting for me in the parking garage. I didn’t care about the money—the police were upstairs. I quickly ran to the underground parking garage. I found my mother-in-law’s car in the garage. The door was open. Both of them had their throats cut, blood continuously pouring out. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I stumbled over, running while calling 911. “Someone’s had their throat cut in the underground parking garage of the harbor warehouse. Please come quickly.” I gripped their hands tightly. “Hold on. The doctors will be here soon.”

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I had waited two years for a life-saving surgery, only for my husband, Ethan Blackwell, to sign it away to his ex-girlfriend with a single signature. When the nurse cut off the pre-op wristband from my wrist, I thought something had gone wrong with one of my tests. Later, I learned that Sienna Rhodes had once shielded him from an accident. He owed her his life. So he decided to repay her with mine. My father begged everyone he could find, humbling himself everywhere, just to get me another chance. But they wouldn’t even spare him. Eleven days after my surgery was taken away, my father was cornered in the hospital corridor, a phone shoved in his face as people demanded answers. “Are you using your daughter’s illness to extort favors from people?” When my father collapsed from a heart attack, he was still clutching my medical files in his hand. I no longer have a father. This time, I’ll make every single one of them pay the price. Amelia POV I had waited two years for a life-saving surgery, only for my husband, Ethan Blackwell, to sign it away to another woman with a signature. When the nurse came in to remove the pre-op wristband from my wrist, I thought something had gone wrong with one of my tests. I was lying on the prep bed, medical tape still on the back of my hand. The pre-anesthesia confirmation had just been completed, and I could hear people wheeling equipment past the door outside. Just one more step, and I would be in the operating room. The moment the wristband was cut off, my fingers froze. “Did my results come back abnormal?” I pushed myself up to sit, my voice tight. “Didn’t the doctor say this morning I could be taken in?” The nurse avoided my eyes, seemingly afraid to look at me, and crushed the cut wristband into her palm. “Ms. Cross, there’s been a temporary change in the schedule. Please return to your room.” “What do you mean?” The nurse’s lips moved, but she didn’t dare look at me. I threw off the blanket and got out of bed. My legs felt weak as my feet touched the floor. I gripped the edge of the bed and stared at the nurse. “Who changed it?” The nurse seemed to retreat a step under my pressure, her voice dropping lower. “Ethan signed off on it.” Ethan. My husband. For the past two years, every time a doctor emphasized the risks, he sat with me outside the office. The doctors said this opportunity wouldn’t come easily, and if I missed it, my body would find it even harder to hold on. Ethan had held my hand then and said, “From now on, I’ll sign all these forms. You just focus on staying alive.” I believed him. The medical authorization form. I had personally let him fill in that section. Now that same pen in someone else’s hands had become the blade that pulled me off the operating table. I pulled out the IV needle and threw on my jacket, heading toward the doctor’s office. The nurse couldn’t stop me and could only follow behind, calling for me to slow down. The doctor seemed to notice my pale face and first asked me to sit. I didn’t sit. “Who did you transfer my surgery to?” The doctor was silent for a moment. “Ms. Cross, you can’t get agitated right now.” “Who did you transfer it to?” The office fell quiet. The doctor finally spoke. “Sienna Rhodes.” When I heard that name, my fingers clenched tightly around the edge of the desk. Ethan’s ex-girlfriend. All these years, whenever Sienna made a single phone call, Ethan would drop everything and rush to her side. The doctor continued. “Years ago, she took the hit for Ethan in an accident and was left with lasting complications. This time, the relapse came on suddenly. Ethan felt she couldn’t afford to wait, so he requested the surgery be transferred to her first.” I didn’t ask about that old accident, nor did I ask how much Ethan owed Sienna. I simply held out my hand. “Give me the authorization form.” The doctor passed the document over. It clearly stated: Medical Confirmation Change. Signature: Ethan. I stared at those three words, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with something hard that I could neither swallow nor spit out. The door was pushed open from outside. When Ethan arrived, his expression looked dark. He saw the authorization form in my hand, first asked the doctor to leave, then reached out to pull me. “Come back to the room with me first.” I avoided his hand and held the authorization form up to his face. “Ethan, what gave you the right to sign for me?” Ethan’s brow furrowed tightly. “Sienna’s situation is more urgent. She became like this because of me back then. I can’t just watch her die.” “So you’re going to let me die instead?” He paused. “I’ll find another way for you. We can find other doctors. Money isn’t an issue.” I looked at him and suddenly laughed. “Did you ask me?” Ethan avoided my eyes. “There wasn’t time.” “No time to ask me, but plenty of time to give away my life?” His impatience finally seemed to break through. “Amelia, stop being stubborn. Your body can still hold up. Sienna really can’t wait any longer. Just this once. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” Don’t make a big deal out of it. My father had waited with me for two years, waited until his hair turned white. And now, in Ethan’s mouth, it all came down to “don’t make a big deal out of it.” The corridor suddenly became chaotic. At the entrance to the prep area, Sienna was being wheeled over by nurses. She was already connected to the pre-op procedures, covered with a blanket, her face weak and pale. When she saw me, her eyes immediately reddened. “Ethan, did I steal Amelia’s chance?” Ethan immediately bent down and gripped her hand. “Don’t think like that. The arrangement is set. Just go in with peace of mind.” Only then did Sienna look at me, her voice soft and trembling. “Amelia, I know you’ve been waiting a long time too. But I really can’t hold on anymore… Ethan just wants to save me first. Please don’t blame him.” I knew. I knew whose spot this originally was, and I knew who Ethan had chosen. I lowered my head, folded the authorization form, and crushed it in my palm. The nurse came to urge. “Sienna Rhodes, you can enter the prep area now.” Ethan supported Sienna and turned back to say to me, “Go back to your room and wait for me. Don’t cause any more trouble. I’ll come find you after I handle this.” His hand was still resting on Sienna’s shoulder, his gaze still fixed on her. I stood there, watching as Sienna was wheeled inside. The operating room doors slowly closed. Ethan didn’t notice that I had already turned around and was walking toward the service desk.

Amelia POV I didn’t go back to my room to wait for Ethan. First, I took a photo of the authorization form, then found the doctor again and asked what the consequences would be if the surgery was delayed. This time, the doctor didn’t beat around the bush. “It will be very difficult to get another opportunity like this in the short term. Your body is already unstable. The longer you wait, the more dangerous it becomes.” “When’s the earliest you can schedule something?” The doctor’s silence was obvious. I made note of that silence too. I clutched my jacket and walked back toward my original room. When I reached the door, I saw the bed was already empty. The things I’d left on the bedside table had been stuffed into a bag, and even the cup I’d drunk from last night was thrown under the chair. A nurse stood at the door, her expression awkward. “Amelia, Sienna needs post-op observation. This room is close to the nurses’ station. Ethan just had someone transfer it to her.” I looked at that bed that had been remade. I wasn’t even dead yet, but my room had already been cleared out. Inside the room, Sienna was leaning against the headboard while Maya Sinclair directed a nurse to remove the bag next to the chair. “None of this is Sienna’s, right? It’s so unlucky leaving it here. Get rid of it.” I walked in and took the bag back from the nurse. Maya frowned. “What are you doing? Sienna just finished prep. The room needs to be clean. Don’t leave your messy stuff in here.” Sienna immediately interjected softly. “Maya, don’t say that. This was Amelia’s room to begin with.” After she finished speaking, she looked up at me, her eyes seeming to glisten with moisture. “Amelia, please don’t misunderstand. Ethan was just worried about me being moved around after surgery, so he had someone prepare the room. I wanted to refuse, but he said I couldn’t afford any more stress right now.” I didn’t respond to her. I bent down to pick up the cup. The bottom was covered in dust. I wiped it twice with tissue, stuffed it back in the bag, and turned to leave. As soon as I walked out, Ethan’s friend Lucas Mitchell came rushing toward me. When he saw the bag in my arms, he frowned first. “Amelia Cross, enough already. Sienna’s life is hanging by a thread, and you’re still here making a scene over a hospital room?” I looked up. “Who told you I was making a scene?” “You’re not?” Lucas lowered his voice, but his tone was hard. “Sienna got hurt so badly because of Ethan back then. Ethan owes her. Now that she’s in this condition, there’s no way Ethan won’t help.” I asked, “So my life should just take a back seat?” Lucas seemed choked up for a moment, his expression turning ugly, but he quickly spoke again. “Can’t you still wait? You’ve always been able to endure. Sienna’s different. She really can’t hold on. Do you have to force Ethan into this right now? He’ll regret it for the rest of his life.” I looked at him. “Ethan also said before that this time, he wouldn’t make me wait again. Did you know that?” Lucas avoided my gaze. The murmuring in the corridor was getting louder. Some people said I was Ethan’s wife, yet I was competing for resources with someone critically ill. Others said Sienna Rhodes had been injured protecting Ethan, and if I truly loved Ethan, I should be more understanding. I sat in the waiting chair holding the things I’d retrieved from the room, needles of stares piercing me from all directions. I was the one whose surgery had been taken away, yet now I was being painted as the one refusing to give up my place. I took out my phone and started making calls. “Hello, I’d like to transfer my medical records for a second opinion.” “When’s the earliest I can see a doctor?” “I already missed my original opportunity. Is there any way I can still get back on the list?” Before I could finish my calls, Ethan returned. He pressed down on my phone, his face frighteningly dark. “What are you trying to do now?” I pulled my phone out from under his hand. “Find a hospital.” “With your body in this condition, you still want to go through all this trouble?” Ethan suppressed his anger. “Stay here. I’ll handle it.” I looked at him. “Your handling. Does that mean signing my forms away again?” Ethan’s face seemed to stiffen. “Sienna hasn’t even entered the operating room yet, and everyone’s busy. Amelia, can you please not cause trouble at a time like this?” I didn’t look at him again and continued dialing the next number. Just then, the elevator doors opened. My father came rushing out with a bag of hospital documents. He’d come in such a hurry that one button on his jacket was fastened wrong, and he gripped the bag of documents tightly. To prepare for today’s surgery, he’d gone through that bag again and again last night, terrified of missing a single sheet of paper. But as soon as he came out, he saw me sitting in the corridor waiting chair. No wristband, pre-op arrangements canceled, holding the things that had been cleared out of my room. I hastily stood up, instinctively hiding the bag behind my back. “Dad…” My father’s steps stopped in place, the color draining from his face bit by bit. He looked at Ethan first, forcing himself to ask, “Was the surgery temporarily postponed?” No one answered. The people who had been gossiping also fell silent. My father looked at me again, his voice trembling. “Amelia, why weren’t you in the operating room today?”

Amelia POV After my father heard what had happened, he didn’t yell at Ethan. He first supported my shoulders and pressed me back down into the waiting chair, then turned to ask the doctor. “What happens to her now?” The doctor said quietly, “We’ll observe first and evaluate later.” “Can that surgery be transferred back?” The doctor didn’t answer. My father clutched that bag of hospital documents, the veins on the back of his hand bulging bit by bit. He’d rushed all the way here expecting to wait for me to come out of surgery, not to hear there was no solution. Ethan, standing nearby, finally spoke. “Mr. Cross, this situation was my oversight. I’ll take responsibility. I’ll find Amelia a better opportunity.” My father looked up at him, his eyes frighteningly red. “If the person pulled off the operating table today had been your mother, would you still have signed that form?” Ethan said nothing. When I walked my father downstairs, he refused to leave, saying he’d wait near the hospital. I took the bag of documents from him. The opening had been wrinkled from his grip, and every sheet of paper inside seemed to carry the weight of these two years. “Dad, please go home first.” My father shook his head. “You go in. I’ll wait outside.” Holding the bag, I returned upstairs and stood by the elevator for a while. I couldn’t let Ethan sign for me anymore. At the service desk, the staff handed me the medical authorization change form and reminded me that once canceled, Ethan would no longer be able to receive any hospital notifications on my behalf. I nodded and first wrote my father’s name in the new contact person section. After finishing, I took the pen and crossed out Ethan’s name from the original position. Two years ago, in that same spot, Ethan had bent down to fill in his information for me, saying from then on I only needed to focus on treatment. Now, as I drew that line through his name, my hand was steady. “Some people are really something.” From the other end of the corridor, Maya deliberately raised her voice. “Someone can clearly hold on, but they insist on forcing the person who just got wheeled in to step down. Sienna’s old injury relapsed this badly, and she still has the heart to do this.” People nearby looked over, their gazes immediately changing. I walked forward holding the form, but Maya blocked my path. Sienna sat outside the prep area, her face terribly pale. She gently stopped Maya. “Don’t say that. It’s my fault.” She looked up at me, tears seemingly pooling in her eyes. “Amelia, if you absolutely must have the surgery back, I can withdraw.” As soon as she finished speaking, she covered her chest and started coughing. Maya immediately rushed over to support her, then turned back and snapped, “Amelia Cross, do you see this? She’s in this condition! Do you have to hound her to death before you’re satisfied?” I hadn’t said a word from start to finish. But everyone’s stares had already pushed me into the role of the person forcing a dying patient to give up her lifeline. Ethan came out of the doctor’s office, his first instinct to support Sienna. “Where does it hurt?” Sienna weakly shook her head, but her hand clutched his sleeve without letting go. Only then did Ethan notice the form in my hand, his expression immediately changing. “What are you trying to do now?” I held the form out in front of him. “Cancel your medical authorization.” Ethan reached out to take it. I stepped back, avoiding him. “From now on, you don’t need to sign a single thing for my treatment.” Ethan seemed to freeze. He seemed to finally understand. I wasn’t arguing, and I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was removing him from having any say over my life. At the entrance to the prep area, the nurse started urging Sienna to go in. Ethan glanced over there and lowered his voice. “Amelia, don’t make a scene right now. Wait until Sienna’s surgery is over, then we’ll talk.” I looked at him. “Every time, you make me wait.” I gripped the paper tighter, feeling my face go pale. “But this time, I can’t afford to wait anymore.” Before I could finish, my vision went black. My father was coming back from the elevator and seemed to see me falling, shouting desperately for a nurse. I wanted to finish signing the form, but my hand gave out first. The authorization cancellation form drifted down to Ethan’s feet, the paper spreading open. Someone from the prep area called for him to come over. I lost consciousness completely.

Ethan POV After Amelia collapsed, the corridor instantly erupted into chaos. Nurses pushed over an emergency bed, and doctors rushed over quickly. Mr. Cross lunged forward to catch Amelia’s slipping hand, his voice breaking as he shouted, “Save her! Save my daughter first!” I stood frozen in place, the authorization cancellation form still lying at my feet. Someone from the prep area was also calling out. “Ethan, Sienna Rhodes is about to enter the operating room. They’re still waiting for your confirmation.” I looked down at that sheet of paper, then at Amelia being wheeled away. This time, I didn’t immediately go to Sienna’s side. I bent down to pick up the form, clutched it in my hand, and chased after the emergency room. Outside the emergency room, Mr. Cross blocked my path. “Give me that.” I didn’t hand it over right away, keeping my voice low. “She was just emotionally worked up. Wait until she wakes up, then we’ll talk.” The fury in Mr. Cross’s eyes seemed to ignite all at once. “She collapsed because her body couldn’t take it after you gave away her surgery. She’s not throwing a tantrum at you!” I felt my expression darken. “I said I’ll find her a better opportunity.” Mr. Cross reached out and snatched the form from me, his hand trembling. “You already made one decision for her. You can’t decide for her a second time.” The doctor came out quickly, his tone grave. “Her indicators are still dropping. Today’s surgery could have stabilized her. Now we can only try to save her. Whether we can get her back on the list. We need to look into it as soon as possible.” My expression finally changed. I had always treated this as a temporary concession, thinking we could make it up later. The doctor’s words crushed all those “laters” into immediate consequences. Just then, Maya came running over. “Ethan, Sienna is about to go into the operating room, and she keeps asking for you! She’s very emotionally unstable right now. She can’t handle any shocks.” Mr. Cross heard this and looked up at me. “Sienna Rhodes can’t handle shocks, but my daughter can handle having her surgery taken away?” Maya immediately responded, “Someone inside is waiting too. If something happens to Sienna, who’s going to take responsibility?” I looked toward the emergency room, then toward the surgical area. I hesitated for a moment, then said quietly to Mr. Cross, “You stay with Amelia. I’ll go confirm things quickly and come right back.” Mr. Cross didn’t stop me. He just watched me turn away, his gaze so cold it was as if he no longer recognized me as a person. When I arrived at the surgical area, Sienna had already been wheeled inside. Maya said with red eyes, “Sienna was terrified the whole time that Amelia would actually take the surgery back. Her hands were shaking before they pushed her in.” I felt irritated but didn’t contradict her. I knew the thing Sienna feared was the opportunity Amelia had lost. The operating room light came on. The people on Sienna’s side seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. There was still no news from Amelia’s emergency room. When I returned outside the emergency room, Mr. Cross was sitting in a waiting chair, his back bent low. That bag of hospital documents sat beside him, pressed down firmly by one hand. I spoke up. “I just went to confirm…” Mr. Cross didn’t look up. “Are you done confirming?” I felt my throat tighten. Mr. Cross finally looked at me, his voice hoarse beyond recognition. “Is her life now safely placed ahead of my daughter’s?” I was about to speak when the emergency room door opened. The doctor informed us that Amelia was temporarily out of danger, but her condition going forward wasn’t optimistic. We had to find another opportunity as soon as possible. Mr. Cross supported himself on the armrest and stood up. “Can we transfer to another hospital?” The doctor said, “The family needs to decide quickly.” I instinctively stepped forward. But Mr. Cross moved in front of me first and handed the authorization cancellation form to the doctor. “This time, I’ll sign.” My outstretched hand froze in midair. The emergency room light was still on. Her father, Mr. Cross, stood between the doctor and me, blocking me out of the family decision-making position for the first time.

Amelia POV When I woke up, only my father was in the room. He sat by the bed, his eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. When he saw me open my eyes, he seemed stunned for a moment before frantically pressing the call button. My throat was painfully dry, but my first words weren’t to ask about Ethan. “Did you finish the paperwork?” My father’s hand paused on the call button, his voice hoarse. “Just needs your personal confirmation.” I nodded. “Bring it here.” My father seemed like he wanted to tell me to rest first, but after looking at my expression, he swallowed his words. I didn’t ask where Ethan had gone. That operating room light that had turned on yesterday had already answered for him. When the nurse brought in the form, I forced myself to sit up. My hands were still shaking, but I signed my name clearly. Ethan pushed the door open just in time to see this. His expression seemed to darken instantly as he strode quickly to the bedside. “Do you have to make a scene at a time like this?” I didn’t look up, only said to the nurse, “Please continue.” Ethan suppressed his anger. “You just came out of the emergency room. Your body can’t take this kind of stress. You’re canceling the authorization now because you want to gamble with your own life?” Only then did I look at him. “I’m not gambling.” I put down the pen, my voice not loud, but clear enough for everyone in the room to hear. “I just don’t want you deciding for me anymore whose life should be saved first.” Ethan seemed publicly humiliated, frozen in place. The nurse collected the form and quickly confirmed. “From now on, Amelia’s authorized family member is Mr. Cross. Ethan, you will no longer participate in decisions regarding her condition.” Ethan stood in the hospital room, officially removed from my family authorization position for the first time. News that Sienna’s surgery had gone smoothly quickly spread through the original hospital. After waking up, she didn’t criticize me. She only told visitors with red eyes that she’d almost couldn’t hold on before surgery, and it was only because Ethan rushed over at the last moment that she dared enter the operating room. Once that story got out, it changed flavor. Some said I refused to give up my spot and scared Sienna to the point of nearly collapsing before surgery. Others said if Ethan had arrived one step later, Sienna might not have even made it onto the operating table. I lay in the hospital bed hearing these words and didn’t explain. My father was furious and wanted to go out, but I grabbed his sleeve. “Dad, let’s just leave this place first.” My father went to handle the transfer paperwork. Ethan chased him to the service desk and coldly demanded they suspend the process. The staff checked the system and replied politely, “Mr. Blackwell, Amelia’s current authorized family member is not you. We cannot stop the process based on your request.” Ethan’s expression turned cold. “I’m her husband.” My father returned with the paperwork and blocked his path. “You’ve already harmed her once. Don’t use your husband status to claim you won’t harm her again.” The staff handed the confirmation form to my father. I watched as Ethan stared at my father signing it. The veins on the back of his hand were taut, but he had no authority to stop it. When the transfer bed was pushed to my room door, Maya and several others blocked the corridor. She seemed to first glance at my complexion, then said in a soft voice, “You’re already transferring hospitals. Can’t you just let Sienna go? She just woke up. She can’t handle any stimulation.” My father was about to speak, but I looked at the nurse first. “Can you call the police if someone blocks a patient transfer?” Maya’s expression changed. When people around heard the words “call the police,” they immediately stepped back. When Ethan arrived, he only saw nurses pushing me through the crowd. I didn’t shout, and I didn’t cry, but with one sentence I made everyone move aside. At the hospital entrance, I was pushed into the transfer vehicle. Before getting in, my father glanced back at Ethan. His eyes held no plea for help, only wariness. Ethan chased after us. “Amelia, at least hear me out.” Before the door closed, I looked at him through the window. I didn’t curse him. I only said to the nurse, “Please close the door.” Ethan raised his hand to stop it. The nurse stood in front of the vehicle door, her tone apologetic but firm. “Mr. Blackwell, the patient has already transferred. Non-family members cannot obstruct the transfer.” The door closed. The transfer vehicle drove away. Through the window, I saw Ethan standing in place, seemingly pinned there by those words, unable to move for a long moment.

Ethan POV After Amelia transferred to the new hospital, I followed, only to be stopped outside the ward by a nurse. “I’m her husband.” The nurse checked the system and shook her head. “Ms. Cross is not accepting visits from you.” I felt my expression darken. “We just had an argument.” The nurse wasn’t swayed by me. “The hospital follows the patient’s instructions.” Mr. Cross came out of the ward area holding treatment materials. I immediately stepped forward. “I can find better doctors and arrange a more suitable place.” Mr. Cross looked at me wearily. “You want to arrange things for her again?” My outstretched hand froze in midair. My phone rang at that moment. Sienna was crying on the other end, her voice breaking. “Ethan, did I cause Amelia to become like this? If you hadn’t come, I really couldn’t have held on…” I glanced at Mr. Cross and said into the phone with suppressed irritation, “Call your doctor.” Sienna cried even harder. “But I only want to see you. Now that I’m alive, it feels like I’m everyone’s burden.” Mr. Cross seemed to hear the crying from the phone. He said nothing more and turned back to the ward area. That retreating figure carried more weight than if he’d scolded me. I stood outside the access control holding my phone, but in the end, I turned and left. I went to Sienna’s room. Sienna was leaning against the headboard. When she saw me, tears fell first. “Ethan, did I make Amelia misunderstand again?” My expression was cold. “Rest well. Don’t mention her anymore.” Sienna froze, then said quietly, “I know you blame me now. But if I hadn’t shielded you from that accident back then, I wouldn’t be lying here now.” I frowned tightly but didn’t immediately comfort her like I used to. Sienna seemed to sense my hesitation and reached out to grab me. “Do you regret giving me the surgery?” I didn’t answer. The room fell quiet. Sienna’s hand froze in midair, panic flooding her eyes that she couldn’t hide. In the evening, I returned to our shared home. The password still worked, but the place felt so empty it made my heart cold. The seat where Amelia used to sit had been cleared out. Her everyday clothes were missing from the closet too. On the living room table sat divorce papers. Next to them was a copy of the medical authorization change form. I picked it up and saw my name crossed out, Mr. Cross’s name replacing my position. Amelia had already signed the divorce agreement. She didn’t want me as her husband, and she didn’t want me as her family member. My phone lit up with a message from Mr. Cross. “Amelia is settled. The new hospital will not accept your visits.” I sat in the emptied-out living room, still clutching that copy in my hand. For the first time, I didn’t know where to find her. Early the next morning, I had my assistant deliver items to the new hospital. The envelope contained doctor profiles I’d hastily gathered, and I’d also transferred a sum of money to a card. I thought that even if Amelia didn’t want to see me, she at least wouldn’t refuse things that could save her life. Everything was returned by the service desk. The staff processed it according to the notes, saying materials sent by non-authorized family members could not be directly entered into the medical record process. When I personally arrived at the new hospital, my expression was extremely dark. I stood at the service desk, barely containing my impatience. “I need to see her attending physician.” The staff asked me, “Please present your authorization credentials first.” “I’m her husband.” “Your access has been revoked in the system.” My fingers drummed on the counter, the sound heavy, my knuckles turning pale and blue from the pressure. “Her body isn’t well. She can’t take that risk. Let me in, or call out her attending physician. I can find better doctors. I’ll cover all the expenses.” The staff maintained that same businesslike attitude, even with a hint of wariness. “Sir, neither the patient herself nor her family has given consent. We cannot disclose any private information. That’s the rule.” It felt like I was losing her.

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I died once before I realized I nearly wasted my entire life on the Carter family. In my previous life, after I married Harrison Carter, my closet lost all its vibrant colors. I couldn’t answer my friends’ calls freely. If I went out at night, I had to report it in advance. I couldn’t even speak a single harsh word in front of the Carter family. Harrison said that as the future Mrs. Carter, I couldn’t be as willful as before. He controlled me, suppressed me, taught me to follow the rules, and ultimately tortured me into a decoration who had to read people’s expressions even when smiling. When I opened my eyes again, the wedding hadn’t happened yet. Downstairs in the dining room, Vincent Reese was discussing wedding procedures with Christine and her mother. Christine sat beside Vincent, saying how happy she was for me, but her eyes kept sneaking glances at the wedding procedure documents on the table. I stood at the top of the stairs, watching her for a while, then suddenly smiled. Good. There’s still time. Vincent saw me and frowned. “Come down. You should hear about how the wedding day will go.” I didn’t sit. I looked at everyone at the table and started with, “I’m not going through with this wedding.”

Lydia Reese POV The dining room fell silent. Christine’s mother’s coffee cup froze mid-air. Christine looked up. The gleam in her eyes was unmistakable before she quickly lowered her head again and said softly, “Lydia, did you not sleep well last night? Don’t say things you don’t mean about the wedding.” I didn’t look at her. I only spoke to Vincent. “The Carter family engagement still stands. Let Christine marry instead.” Vincent slammed his palm on the table. “Lydia Reese! Have you lost your mind? Do you think this marriage between our families is yours to give away?” I pushed my chair aside. “I’m not giving it away. I just don’t want it anymore.” Christine bit her lip, her eyes quickly reddening. “Lydia, if you say things like this, Harrison will be heartbroken.” Only then did I turn to look at her. “Haven’t you always wanted to marry him?” Christine’s face stiffened. Vincent’s anger stopped halfway. He looked at Christine, then at the wedding procedures on the table. His expression quickly changed. I was too familiar with that look. Full of calculation. The engagement couldn’t be broken. The Carter family’s benefits couldn’t be lost. The Reese family couldn’t lose face in New York. If his daughter wouldn’t marry, replacing her with an obedient one wasn’t out of the question. Vincent coughed and had the butler escort Christine and her mother back to their room. Before leaving, Christine looked back at me. That glance looked like she’d already tried on the wedding dress. I stood there, watching Vincent pick up his phone, lowering his voice as he began testing the Carter family’s attitude. He didn’t ask me why I wouldn’t marry. He didn’t ask if I’d been wronged. He was only afraid this engagement would break on the Reese family’s end. I turned and went upstairs. I locked the door and opened the safe. Inside were asset ledgers, jewelry, trust account documents, and the inheritance my mother had left for me, item by item. This wasn’t the kind of show the Reese family put on to maintain appearances. This was the escape route my mother left me. In my previous life, these things were first taken by Vincent to support the wedding’s grandeur, then later picked through by Christine. I never got them back, not until I died. This time, I called my mother’s lawyer friend first. “I want to transfer the asset ledgers, account permissions, and the jewelry my mother left specifically for me.” The phone was silent for a few seconds before responding quickly. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” “Does Vincent know?” “Don’t let him know.” The lawyer quickly agreed, confirming they’d start processing everything in two days at the earliest. I hung up and submitted an application to leave New York, booking the earliest flight out after the wedding. After doing all this, I tossed aside the plain clothes the Reese family had prepared for me and pulled out a vibrant dress from the bottom of my closet. In my previous life, when Harrison first saw this dress, he said it drew too much attention. I never wore it again after that. That evening, I entered a VIP room at a private club. My old friends saw me and were stunned at first, then started teasing with laughter. “Isn’t Lydia Reese about to marry into the Carter family? You can still come out tonight?” I took the wine glass without explaining. I just wanted to see if I could still find my way back into the liveliness I once knew. The wine had barely touched my lips when the door was pushed open from outside. Harrison stood in the doorway, his face dark and ugly. The room fell silent. His gaze swept from the dress I wore to the wine glass in my hand, then over the group of friends beside me. “Come out.” I didn’t move. Harrison walked in, his voice lowered. “Lydia Reese, the wedding hasn’t even happened yet and you already want everyone to see the Carter family’s embarrassment?” I looked up. “The Carter family’s embarrassment. You shouldn’t be asking me.” Harrison’s face grew colder. He reached out and gripped my wrist. “Stop making a scene. Come with me.” His hand tightened more and more. No one in the room dared make a sound. My purse vibrated. I looked down and saw the screen light up. My mother’s lawyer sent a message: Asset transfer application received. First batch processing begins tomorrow morning. Harrison didn’t see it. He just gripped me and pulled me toward the door.

Lydia Reese POV When Harrison shoved me into the car, his face was still cold. The driver raised the partition. Only the two of us remained in the car. I rubbed my reddened wrist, not yet settled when I heard him ask, “Why did you go to that kind of place tonight?” I looked up. “What kind of place?” Harrison stared at the dress I wore. “Drinking, hanging around private rooms, letting a bunch of people watch you make a fool of yourself. Lydia Reese, have you forgotten you’re about to marry into the Carter family?” I laughed. “I haven’t forgotten.” “Then remember it clearly. Don’t make scenes before the wedding. After the wedding, I definitely won’t let you act like this.” After the wedding, those words made a chill rise in my stomach. In my previous life, he was the same. Little by little, he took away my clothes, my friends, my temper, and my voice. He said it was for my own good. He said I should understand the rules. In the end, I almost forgot who I was. I turned to look out the window, my voice soft. “I’m not marrying you.” The car went silent for a moment. Harrison whipped his head around to look at me. “What did you say?” “I said, I’m not marrying you.” Harrison’s expression grew darker and darker. “Because you fought with Vincent during the day?” I didn’t answer. Harrison seemed to have already decided I was guilty. “Using the engagement to threaten your family. Lydia Reese, when did you learn these kinds of tactics?” I leaned back against the seat without explaining. The engagement was already being replaced. Vincent would soon go to the Carter family to discuss it. But I deliberately wouldn’t tell him. I wanted to watch Harrison control me with his fiancé status, right up until the wedding day when he’d see with his own eyes that the bride had become Christine. Harrison saw I wouldn’t speak and grew angrier. “Take that back.” “No.” The car suddenly turned. I glanced at the road. We weren’t heading back to the Reese house. “Where are we going?” “The suburban vacation house.” Harrison said coldly, “To let you cool down.” We quickly arrived at the Carter family’s suburban villa. An assistant delivered a pre-wedding behavior manual and placed it on the table. The booklet was thick. The cover was clean, but inside it was filled with the Carter family’s rules for the future Mrs. Carter. How to dress for public appearances. How to speak when meeting Carter family members. Which friends could no longer be associated with. No entering places where photos could be taken before the wedding. After marriage, coming home late required advance notice. In my previous life, I followed every single rule. I replaced my wardrobe, cut off friends’ gatherings. Even attending a friend’s birthday required asking Harrison’s permission first. But the more I followed the rules, the more he felt I still wasn’t enough. This time, with the manual placed before me, I didn’t even flip through it. Harrison stood by the table, watching my actions, his patience completely gone. “Copy out the key points tomorrow.” I looked up. He continued, “At tomorrow’s afternoon tea gathering between the families, apologize to Christine.” “Why should I apologize to her?” “She helped clean up the situation for you in front of Vincent today. You shouldn’t have taken your anger out on her.” I looked at him and suddenly found it laughable. Christine sat downstairs waiting for the engagement to fall into her lap, yet he thought Christine was wronged. Harrison took my silence as agreement. His tone softened slightly but became more commanding. “Don’t say things about breaking off the engagement again. Before the wedding, whoever makes trouble will only look bad.” I didn’t respond. When Harrison sent me back to the Reese house, it was already very late. Vincent hadn’t slept yet. He sat in the living room waiting for me. Seeing me enter, his first words weren’t asking where I’d been or why I looked so terrible. He said, “Tomorrow at the afternoon tea gathering between the families, you must be present.” Harrison’s footsteps stopped. Vincent glanced at him and quickly swallowed his words back. “The Carter family is willing to hear about replacing the bride, but before officially bringing it up, you need to be there. We can’t let outsiders see that the Reese and Carter families have fallen out.” Harrison frowned. “Replace what?” Vincent’s face stiffened. I was already walking upstairs. Vincent immediately shouted, “Lydia Reese! I’m warning you, don’t lose your mind tomorrow and don’t ruin Christine’s opportunity!” Harrison stood in the living room, his gaze following my retreating figure. I didn’t look back. Back in my room, my phone already had a message from my mother’s lawyer. The asset ledgers and account permissions could be transferred first. Physical items would be handled in batches, with the first batch processed tomorrow morning. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at that line of text. Outside the door, servants walked back and forth in the hallway, speaking in low voices about the clothes to prepare for tomorrow’s gathering. Those clothes weren’t meant to maintain my dignity. They were to make Christine look more like the bride. Before long, there was a knock on the door. A servant brought in a plain outfit and said carefully, “Vincent said to have you wear this tomorrow.” I took the clothes. My other hand still clutched my phone. On the screen, the asset transfer confirmation was still lit.

Lydia Reese POV At the next day’s afternoon tea gathering between the two families, I didn’t wear that plain outfit. I came downstairs in a vibrant dress. The room full of rigid coffee sets and Carter family faces all looked gray in comparison. Vincent’s face darkened immediately. When Harrison entered, his first glance also fell on me. But Christine stood up first, her voice gentle as if shielding me. “Lydia probably didn’t rest well last night and didn’t have time to change clothes. Everyone, please don’t blame her.” I sat down without accepting this kindness. If I really accepted it, the next line would be Christine’s turn to show how sensible she was. Before the coffee was even served, Harrison asked, “Did you read the behavior manual?” I placed the unopened booklet on the table. The cover was smooth without even a crease. The Carter family members’ faces immediately turned ugly. Harrison’s gaze also grew cold. Christine seemed to have been waiting for this moment. She immediately pulled out another behavior checklist. “I was worried Lydia would be too busy, so I put together a copy for her. The wedding procedures, gift exchange order, things to note when meeting Carter family members. I’ve marked everything.” She spoke carefully, but her hand steadily pushed the checklist in front of Harrison. Harrison flipped through a few pages. His expression eased somewhat. “Look at Christine.” He pushed the checklist in front of me. “She knows to consider the big picture. What about you?” Vincent chimed in. “Christine has always been sensible, more aware of propriety than you.” Everyone in the room looked at me. I didn’t touch that checklist. This was the first knife Christine thrust at me before stealing my wedding, yet everyone thought this knife was dignified. The gathering continued toward the wedding procedures. The makeup trial, gift exchange, and meeting with Carter family members that should have been mine were pushed to Christine by Vincent with a single sentence. “Since Christine has already organized everything, let her go through it first.” Harrison didn’t stop it. He only said, “Lydia’s state has been unstable lately. It’s good for Christine to walk through it once.” Christine lowered her head as if she were really just there to help. She sat beside me, taking over one item after another. I watched her take them. The more she took, the worse the wedding day would look. Midway through the gathering, Christine used the excuse of accompanying me to change coffee and brought me to a lounge. As soon as the door closed, the obedience on Christine’s face vanished. “Will you tell Harrison in advance?” I looked at her. “Tell him what?” Christine bit her lip. “You know what I’m asking. About the engagement being replaced. Will you say anything?” I smiled. “Don’t you want to marry him? Go out right now and tell him you’re the bride on the wedding day.” Christine’s expression changed. I took a step forward. “You don’t dare.” Christine’s fingers clenched. “You’re afraid if he knows now, he won’t let you take my place.” This sentence hit home. The softness in Christine’s eyes completely scattered. She lowered her voice and said, “On the wedding day, he’ll see clearly who really belongs by his side.” When we returned to the living room, Vincent was discussing with the Carter family the trust assets my mother left me. “Lydia’s mother prepared those things years ago for the wedding. Since the wedding is still between our two families, it doesn’t matter who marries in the end. Those assets should be used to maintain appearances.” My hands slowly clenched. Harrison heard this. He glanced at me. Just one glance. He didn’t ask if those were things my mother specifically left for me. He didn’t try to intercept those words on my behalf. Christine lowered her head to drink coffee, unable to suppress the corner of her mouth. After the gathering dispersed, I returned to my room to check the asset transfer progress. The screen had just lit up when footsteps outside the door crack stopped. When I looked up, the hallway was already empty. The next moment, Christine’s voice came from downstairs. “Vincent, I think I just saw that Lydia has already started moving those assets…” Vincent’s footsteps quickly headed upstairs.

Lydia Reese POV Vincent blocked my door, his voice suppressed and vicious. “Open the door. Hand over the asset transfer documents.” I didn’t open the door. “The assets are what my mother left me. No one can touch them.” Vincent laughed coldly in anger. “You’ve already given up the engagement and you’re still clinging to those assets? Lydia Reese, how can you be so selfish!” I listened to him curse from outside. “The marriage between the two families isn’t finalized yet. Keeping the assets in the Reese family will at least prevent us from losing face.” Christine’s voice came from the stairs. “Vincent, don’t let your anger harm your health. There’s still a pre-wedding party tonight. If Lydia makes another scene, the Carter family will look very bad.” With one sentence, she temporarily suppressed Vincent’s fury. “You must attend tonight.” Vincent slammed down those words before leaving with his people. That evening, the pre-wedding party was held at a club owned by the Carter family. When I arrived, Christine had already changed into an evening gown. Her hair and makeup were done according to the wedding trial. Guests whispered praise about how gracious and proper she was. I entered in my vibrant dress. Those gazes immediately shifted from praise to watching a spectacle. Harrison stood beside the Carter family members. When he saw me, his brow furrowed. The party procedures began. The host invited the future bride to accompany Harrison in toasting the guests. I was about to stand when Harrison first looked at Christine. “Lydia isn’t quite suitable today. Let Christine familiarize herself with it first.” Vincent responded faster than anyone. “Christine knows propriety. Having her go through it first is safer.” Christine declined twice, her eyes reddening slightly. Harrison personally handed her the wine glass. She stood beside him, accompanying him through the toasts. The guests’ murmurs couldn’t be suppressed. I sat alone in my seat. The wine glass at my side was never handed to me from beginning to end. After the toasts ended, I got up and went to the hallway. Before long, Christine followed out, still holding the wine glass Harrison had given her. She placed the glass in front of me. “Lydia, look. Harrison is already used to letting me clean up situations for you.” I looked at her coldly. Christine smiled again, her voice so soft only the two of us could hear. “Vincent has already agreed. On the wedding day, he’ll add your mother’s assets to my name to maintain my dignity.” My expression grew colder and colder. Christine still didn’t stop. “The words your mother wrote to you on the asset ledger will also enter the Carter family with me.” The wine glass shattered on the floor. I raised my hand and pushed her against the wall. Christine let herself hit it and immediately cried out. “Lydia, I was just advising you to go back… I wasn’t trying to steal your things…” Guests from the other end of the hallway gathered around. Harrison came too. He first checked Christine’s wrist, which quickly reddened. Christine clutched her wrist, crying and trembling. “I only mentioned those assets and Lydia couldn’t handle it.” I didn’t deny it. “She touched things she shouldn’t have.” Harrison cut me off. “Enough.” He looked at the shattered glass on the floor, his face ugly. “Apologize to Christine.” Vincent pushed through from the back of the crowd and immediately cursed. “Lydia Reese, isn’t losing face enough for you? Christine is about to walk through the wedding procedures for you, and you’re still being petty over some assets!” I looked up. “When did the things my mother left me become Christine’s wedding dignity?” The hallway went quiet. Harrison’s eyes darkened. He gripped my wrist and pulled me from the crowd. I was dragged all the way to the club’s back courtyard. Outside the door, Harrison coldly instructed the bodyguard. “Watch her.” I looked at him. He didn’t let go. “When you’re willing to go back and apologize, you can come out.”

Lydia Reese POV When the back courtyard door of the club was locked from outside, the laughter from the party hall hadn’t stopped. I stood behind the door, hearing Harrison say through it, “Think it over. Then come out and apologize.” I spoke through the door crack. “I won’t apologize.” Outside went silent for a few seconds. Harrison’s voice grew colder. “Watch her. No one is allowed to let her out.” The bodyguard acknowledged. My phone was confiscated. There were no chairs inside. I could only stand against the wall. Night wind drilled in from the corner. There was still undried water on the floor. The hem of my dress quickly became wet. In the party hall, the proceedings continued as usual. Christine’s wrist was wrapped in gauze, yet she still forced herself to serve drinks to everyone. Seeing her like that, the guests felt even more sorry for her. Vincent took the opportunity to sigh to the Carter family members. “Lydia has been spoiled since childhood. Christine is the truly sensible one.” Harrison didn’t say a word on my behalf. The fact that I was locked in the back courtyard was suppressed by the pre-wedding party. At first, I could still stand steady. Later, my lower abdomen cramped heavily. My fingers went numb from the wind. I knocked on the door. The sound was torn apart by the wind. “Get Harrison. I don’t feel well.” The bodyguard went to ask for instructions. When he returned, he only said through the door, “Mr. Carter’s event isn’t finished yet. Miss Lydia, please be patient.” I looked at that door and didn’t knock again. I slowly crouched down against the wall. The damp cold seeped through the hem of my pants up to my knees. Outside the door, people whispered. “Wouldn’t it have been better to just apologize?” “Insisting on making such a scene. Who’s to blame?” At the same time, Christine found Vincent. Her eyes were red, her voice soft as if afraid, seeming to think of countermeasures. “Vincent, Lydia may have already transferred the assets. I saw a message at her door.” Vincent’s expression changed drastically. “Are you sure?” “I wouldn’t dare speak carelessly.” Christine lowered her eyes. “Lydia probably doesn’t want me to take that money into marriage.” This sentence was more vicious than tattling. Vincent immediately had people return to the Reese house to check the safe and trust accounts, and arranged for people to guard my room. “When she comes back, bring her upstairs immediately.” When the party dispersed, the bodyguard finally discovered I had already passed out. When the door opened, cold wind mixed with moisture rushed out. When Harrison arrived at the lounge, the doctor had just helped me onto the bed. My face was pale, my wrist scraped by the door edge, my dress hem still wet. He frowned at the bodyguard. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” The bodyguard lowered his head. “I asked for instructions once.” Harrison’s expression froze for a moment, quickly suppressing it. “You didn’t say it was serious.” He had the doctor treat me and instructed his assistant, “Tell everyone she drank too much and felt unwell.” When I woke, Harrison sat beside me. His tone lowered somewhat. “Don’t be so stubborn in the future.” I looked at him without speaking. Harrison continued, “Christine’s wrist is badly injured. Tomorrow the two families will continue discussing the wedding. After you go back, don’t upset Vincent anymore.” My throat was dry, but my voice was steady. “I was locked up until I passed out. Christine’s wrist turned red. Harrison Carter, which one matters more to you?” Harrison fell silent. He avoided the question, only having the driver take me back to the Reese house. When the car reached the Reese house entrance, I leaned against the window and saw the people Vincent sent were already waiting at the steps.

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“Let’s dissolve our mate bond. It’s just for show, to ease Elara’s mind.” My Alpha husband, for the sake of his fragile white moonlight, kicked me out of the master bedroom for the nineteenth time, and now he’s even demanding I sign an agreement to dissolve our Mate bond. He looks down at me with patronizing generosity, his eyes full of certainty: “Once she leaves, I promise everything will return to normal. You’ll always be my Luna.” He thinks I’ll cry and beg for his meager scraps of affection like I did for the past five years. But what he doesn’t know is that the moment I signed my name without hesitation, my wolf had completely given up on him. Aurora POV “Father, I want to dissolve my Mate bond with Julian.” I gripped the phone, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “I’ll handle the divorce procedures as soon as I can. This time I’m serious. I want to come home.” My father’s voice came through the receiver, tinged with both heartache and relief. “Aurora, you’ve finally come to your senses. You never should have endured this humiliation in the first place. I’ll arrange everything else. Within a month, you’ll be back with the pack.” I hung up and looked at my pale, haggard reflection in the mirror, expressionless. My wolf was now so exhausted she couldn’t even manage a whimper. The door was shoved open roughly. Julian stood in the doorway, a powerful Alpha pressure sweeping in with his impatient aura. “Elara’s back.” He strode into the master bedroom without so much as glancing at me, heading straight for the walk-in closet and dragging out the suitcase I’d already packed. “You know her mental state is fragile. She can’t handle any stress.” Of course I knew. Elara had once saved his life and supposedly suffered severe psychological trauma as a result, leaving her emotionally unstable. Whenever she got upset out in the world, she’d come running back to Stormborn Pack crying, seeking Julian’s protection. Julian was convinced that my identity as Stormborn Pack’s “Luna” was the greatest source of stress for Elara. In his view, as long as I still lived in this Packhouse, Elara would feel like she was the third party interfering in our Mate relationship, which would worsen her condition. So every time Elara came back, I had to disappear like a ghost, vacate our master bedroom so he could comfort her. Once Elara left, he’d bring me back. Five years. Not one more, not one less. Exactly eighteen times. And today was the nineteenth. “She’ll be staying at the Packhouse first,” he said, setting the suitcase on the carpet. “I can’t let her fall ill from guilt. I’ve already found you a place to stay.” I looked at that familiar suitcase without speaking, just silently beginning to pack my personal belongings. This unusually calm compliance seemed to surprise him more than any hysterical crying would have. He frowned, staring at me suspiciously. “Aurora, why are you being so cooperative today? What are you plotting now?” No wonder he was suspicious. After all, I hadn’t been willing to play the doormat from the start. The first time, my wolf was howling madly. I blocked his path crying, begging him not to send me away, only to be pushed aside coldly. The fifth time, I smashed everything in the master bedroom, threatening to expose everything to the entire pack if he dared make me leave. He just looked at me coldly and called the guards to forcibly “escort” me out. By the tenth time, I’d stopped resisting, just silently crying. That’s when he came over and patted my head indulgently, saying, “That’s better. Don’t worry, you’ll always be my Luna.” And the eighteenth time, just last month, I could already smile while helping him pick out clothes to wear when meeting Elara. I looked up at this Mate I’d once loved deeply and shook my head calmly. “I just think this whole thing is pretty pointless.” Just then, his phone rang. The impatience on his face instantly transformed into tension and tenderness. It was Elara. Without avoiding me, he answered directly. “Julian, the hallway here is so quiet. I’m scared alone in my room. When are you coming to get me?” Elara’s voice trembled, sounding pitiful and vulnerable. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll come over as soon as I finish up here.” Julian coaxed her gently. “I had someone send you a bouquet of your favorite moonflowers to celebrate your return. They should be in your room already.” Elara asked with delight on the other end, “You still remember?” “Of course.” My hands froze mid-fold in the air. In college, every time he came to see me, he’d bring a bouquet of moonflowers. “These moonflowers suit you so well.” I’d been so happy then. Turns out moonflowers were Elara’s favorite. Julian hung up and looked at me, his eyes full of warning. “One hour. I’m going to pick her up, and you’d better be gone by the time I get back.” Seeing no reaction from me, he reached out and touched my face with something almost like pity, his voice softening. “Be good. Elara never stays long when she comes back. I’ll bring you home again when she leaves.” With that, he turned and strode away without a trace of reluctance. I sat alone in the empty master bedroom, not moving immediately. Through the Mind-link, I contacted my personal pack lawyer. “The mate bond dissolution agreement. You can start preparing it.” I didn’t go to the place he’d arranged, but to the place my father had set up for me. That was my only true refuge. For three days, Julian didn’t contact me once. I was happy for the peace and quiet. On the fourth night, I habitually scrolled through my social media feed. A glaring photo caught my eye. Posted by Elara. In the picture, Elara wore my silk robe, sitting on the wool carpet in our master bedroom’s living room, holding a steaming cup of tea. Julian sat on the sofa behind her, looking down at documents, his profile bathed in the warm yellow light from the floor lamp, looking exceptionally gentle. The caption read: “With Julian here, all my anxiety disappears.” I stared at that photo for a long time. That robe was my favorite. The cuffs were embroidered with my initials in silver thread. I’d left it in the walk-in closet when I moved out. Elara hadn’t just taken my master bedroom and my Mate—now she could freely use my personal belongings too. In the comments below, several of Julian’s friends were leaving messages. “Is this an official announcement of a Luna replacement?” “Has Alpha Julian finally come to his senses?” Julian neither liked nor replied to any of them. But I knew his silence was a form of consent. I turned off my phone screen. The black glass reflected my expressionless face.

Aurora POV After seeing that post, I didn’t sleep all night. These five years of “hell mode” had taught me one truth: any hysterical questioning would only end up as entertainment for them and humiliation for me. The next afternoon, I went to a high-end custom clothing boutique. Since I’d decided to leave completely, I wanted to buy some decent clothes to return to my pack with a fresh appearance. I’d just stopped in front of a pure white silk gown when a familiar Alpha scent mixed with a cloying rose fragrance drifted in from the entrance. Julian walked in supporting Elara. Elara’s face was pale, looking like she might collapse even in the sunlight. When she saw me, she froze, then shrank timidly behind Julian like a frightened animal. Julian immediately shielded her in his arms, looking up at me with displeasure and wariness in his eyes. “What are you doing here?” I didn’t answer, just quietly watched them. Elara’s voice was soft and gentle. “Julian, don’t blame Aurora. I’m sure she didn’t mean to follow us.” Julian’s expression darkened further. “Aurora, I warned you not to harass Elara.” I finally spoke, my voice as calm as if I were talking to strangers. “I’m just here to buy clothes.” I turned around, signaling the clerk to wrap up the white dress. But Elara suddenly grabbed Julian’s sleeve and pointed at the dress in my hands. “Aurora, is this the one you like?” Without waiting for my answer, she took the gown from the clerk and held it up against herself. “Wow, such a beautiful dress.” Elara’s eyes lit up, then she seemed to remember something and looked at Julian, her tone slightly coquettish. “Julian, I remember you love seeing me in white dresses. Can I buy this one?” Julian looked at me, his tone brooking no argument. “Give this dress to Elara.” I looked at him without moving or showing any sign of yielding. Seeing this, Elara immediately shoved the dress back into my hands, her eyes instantly reddening. “I’m sorry, Aurora. I just love this dress so much. Julian, don’t force her. We can look at something else… It’s all my fault.” The more “considerate” she acted, the more unreasonable and petty I appeared. Julian simply pulled the dress from my hands and stuffed it back into Elara’s arms. “Take it.” After saying this to Elara, he turned to look at me coldly. “Aurora, you have plenty of dresses like this. Pick something else for yourself.” With that, he put his arm around Elara and turned to leave, giving me a resolute departing back. That evening, Julian actually came to where I was staying on his own initiative. He brought my once-favorite dessert, and his tone was unusually gentle. “Aurora, I’m sorry about what happened this afternoon.” He began that familiar, nauseating explanation. “As long as you’re still my Luna, Elara will never be able to hold her head up in front of you. She always feels like she’s the other woman, which isn’t good for her recovery.” He paused, then laid out his plan. “Let’s dissolve our mate bond. Just submit a nominal mate bond dissolution agreement, go through the motions. Next month when I send Elara away for treatment elsewhere, we’ll immediately restore our relationship. I promise you, once Elara leaves, nothing will change.” I kept my head down, looking at that exquisite dessert, saying nothing. I’d been worried about finding a suitable reason to get him to sign a dissolution agreement, and here he was, handing me the ladder himself. I was silent for a long time. So long that Julian started impatiently checking his watch. Only then did I finally lift my head to look at him, my face perfectly compliant. I said softly, “Okay.” “Whatever you say.”

Aurora POV The next morning, Julian’s personal guards were waiting downstairs right on time. The Elder Council’s “mate bond dissolution” ceremony went quickly. Thanks to the Alpha’s absolute authority, no one dared question his decision. When the head elder stamped the seal on the parchment, Julian didn’t even glance at it, casually stuffing it into his pocket. He draped his arm over my shoulders as usual, his cedarwood scent enveloping me, his tone gentle. “Next month when I send Elara away for treatment at another Pack, we’ll immediately restore our mate bond. I promise you, once Elara leaves, nothing will change.” I kept my head down and gave a soft “mm” in response. I could feel the eyes of the elders and guards around us, probably wondering why the Alpha was still so intimate with me when we’d just dissolved our mate bond. Julian was very satisfied with my “understanding nature.” We parted ways at the entrance to the pack’s council hall. I walked back to my place alone. Over the next few days, my father’s royal guards would occasionally send messages through Mind-link. 【Princess, we’ve almost finished erasing your traces at Stormborn Pack. No need to worry.】 【The route map and border passes for leaving the territory are all ready. The reception team is on standby.】 I looked at the route map on the table, calculating the final departure date. After handling these matters, I returned my Luna authority seal and resigned from my position as healer assistant at the pack hospital. I turned in my access pass, cleared out my locker, and said goodbye to a few pack doctors. The moment I walked out of the hospital entrance, I felt another connection to Stormborn Pack severed. That evening, Julian tried to contact me through Mind-link. This was the first time he’d contacted me since the mate bond dissolution agreement took effect. I didn’t respond. Julian then sent a FaceTime video request. I didn’t want to see his face while he was with another woman. He immediately expressed his displeasure. “Why aren’t you turning on video?” “Just got back from the pack hospital. I’m a bit tired.” I brushed him off casually. Julian laughed on the other end, his tone smug, clearly thinking I was still that woman who tried to maintain a perfect image in front of him. “What haven’t I seen of you?” His tone carried an uncomfortably familiar intimacy. I didn’t respond. He probably found it boring and changed the subject, asking about my resignation as healer assistant. “You quit? That’s fine. You only got in there because of my Alpha privileges anyway. You had no real future there.” My irritation reached its peak. “Don’t you need to go keep Elara company?” I interrupted him, just wanting to end the conversation quickly. Julian on the other end fell silent for a moment at my words, then let out a cold laugh. “Aurora, your temper’s getting worse and worse.” His voice was full of a superior’s arrogance and warning. “Elara’s health is poor. If you dare say anything to upset her, you know the consequences.” I didn’t even bother arguing with him anymore and hung up directly. Two days later was Julian’s birthday. In previous years on this day, no matter how many complicated Pack affairs there were, I would personally prepare a table full of his favorite foods. And he would act like the perfect Mate, canceling all patrol duties to spend the day with me alone. This had been one of the few rituals in our marriage. This year, I hadn’t prepared anything and had almost forgotten about the day. Before long, Elara posted on Instagram. In the photo, Elara held a custom cake with the air of the Packhouse’s lady, smiling sweetly and shyly. There was also a video of Elara affectionately smearing frosting on Julian’s face, with the caption: “I hope my Alpha is as happy as he is today, every day. @Julian” Below was Julian’s reply—a simple heart emoji. I exited the social media app and pulled out the dusty box from under my bed, taking out an exquisitely carved wooden case. Inside was the token Julian had personally placed on me during our mating ceremony—a wolf fang necklace. I took out my lighter. Flames ignited the leather cord strung with the fang. I watched the fire greedily devour it, burning it to ashes. I watched the remnants wash down the drain in the sink and said softly to myself, “That’s it then.” When these things finished burning, everything between Julian and me would be completely over too.

Aurora POV When Sabrina came to see me, she brought the latest gossip. “Did you hear? Julian and Elara had a huge fight at his birthday party.” She scrolled through her phone while gloating. “Apparently, the trigger was because you didn’t show up.” I was in the middle of a face mask and didn’t even lift an eyelid. “They’ll make up eventually,” my voice was muffled. “Aren’t I always just one element in their twisted love game anyway?” Sabrina thought about it and agreed, cursing them as “a pair of psychos.” After that, Julian started frantically contacting me. Mind-link messages, phone calls, texts—they came like a bombardment. At first it was questioning: “What’s your problem? Why are you blocking my Mind-link?” Then it became orders: “Respond to me immediately, or I’ll send guards to drag you back.” I completely stopped responding to his Mind-link, blocked his number, and didn’t answer any unknown calls. My life lately had been full and busy. I started packing, planning the detailed route for leaving Stormborn Pack, and organizing the supplies my father’s people had sent. Julian was completely shut out of my new life. That day, I was in my room confirming the final border defense map when I suddenly heard suppressed crying outside the door. I opened it to find Mara collapsed in the hallway, covered in injuries. She was an old servant from the main residence who specialized in taking care of my meals and daily needs. She was also the only warmth I’d felt at Stormborn Pack. “Luna…” When Mara saw me, tears streamed down her face. Her arms were covered in whip marks—signs of torture. “What happened?” I immediately helped her up, slowly channeling my healing power into her body. “Alpha Julian couldn’t find you. He was very angry…” Mara said trembling. “He locked me in the dungeon, demanding to know your whereabouts. When I wouldn’t say anything, he…” My expression instantly darkened, my heart feeling like it had been brutally cut by a dull knife. For Julian’s sake, I’d endured five years of humiliation, but that didn’t mean he could cross my bottom line. He couldn’t find me, so he resorted to these despicable methods to torture an innocent Omega! After Mara left, I walked into my room and pulled out the second gift from the cabinet—a moonstone bracelet he’d given me on our first wedding anniversary. The lighter’s flame ignited again, illuminating the night. “You don’t deserve this, and you have no right to hurt the people around me. Not in the past, not now.” I watched the woven leather cord on the bracelet gradually blacken and break under the heat, the gemstone losing its luster, my voice ice-cold. “Julian, that’s the second time.” The next day, I went to the university Julian and I had attended. We’d met in college. Now, that time had long become the past. I’d hidden my identity and returned with him to Stormborn Pack, where he immediately assumed the position of Alpha. I’d followed him too, becoming his Mate and Stormborn Pack’s Luna. Back then, I naively thought we’d lead the Pack to prosperity together. Until shortly after our wedding, when Elara appeared—that she-wolf who’d once saved him and grown up with him—everything changed. For Elara’s sake, I was driven from the Pack again and again. This time, I would finally never return.

Aurora POV The day before leaving Stormborn Pack, I was in my room doing final route confirmations. Suddenly, there was faint movement outside the door. I opened it to find Mara. She looked even weaker than yesterday, her whole body swaying. “Luna…” She kept her head down, her voice trembling, not even daring to look at me. “Alpha Julian asked me to give you a message.” I stopped what I was doing. “Tomorrow night is the full moon ceremony. He requires you to attend as Luna.” Mara swallowed and continued, “The Alpha also said… if you don’t go, he’ll use all the cruelest punishments in the dungeon on me.” My hand clenched tight, nails digging deep into my palm. Julian, just how low can you sink? Using an innocent Omega’s life to threaten me while still not forgetting to pressure me with Luna responsibilities. “I understand.” I took a deep breath, soothing her trembling. “I’ll go.” I’ll go see it with my own eyes. Consider it a final closure to these five absurd years. When Sabrina learned of this, she nearly smashed up my room in rage. “Are you crazy, Aurora?!” She grabbed my shoulders, hissing angrily. “Julian forcing you to attend the full moon ceremony at this time is definitely up to no good! Elara will definitely humiliate you in front of the entire pack!” “I know.” I pushed her hands away, my tone calm. “This is the last time I’ll stand there as Stormborn Pack’s Luna. Sabrina, I need this final time to sever all the resentment in my heart.” Sabrina looked at me and finally sighed helplessly, giving up on persuading me. After she left, I opened the drawer and took out the third gift Julian had given me. It was a wolf totem wooden carving he’d personally carved for me. Once, I’d treasured it as proof of his love. I pressed the lighter. Flames instantly consumed the dry wood. I watched coldly as the totem turned to charcoal in the firelight, then to ashes. Looking at what remained in the cabinet, there were very few gifts left. I proactively contacted Julian. “I’ll attend the full moon ceremony.” Julian’s voice on the other end clearly carried relief. He said everything was arranged, just waiting for me to come.

Aurora POV On the night of the full moon festival, a massive bonfire blazed in Stormborn Pack’s territory square. I wore the ceremonial dress symbolizing my Luna status, standing alone on one side of the platform. But my Mate, my Alpha Julian, trampled my dignity underfoot in front of everyone. Right before the entire pack, without any attempt to hide it, he held Elara protectively in his arms, shielding her from the night wind. The intimacy between them was undeniable. The whispers of the surrounding pack members drifted to my ears on the night breeze without reserve. “See that? Alpha Julian only has eyes for Elara. The Luna standing there is just a joke.” “The Luna is just someone the Alpha brought back from outside. She was lucky to get the Luna position, that’s all.” “Exactly. Elara saved Alpha Julian’s life, and they’re childhood friends. Elara is the one who should truly be the Alpha’s Luna.” Every word was like a poisoned silver blade, viciously piercing my heart. The intense pain transmitted through the Mate bond made it almost impossible to breathe. I couldn’t endure it anymore. I spun around and rushed to the restroom, retching violently over the sink. My stomach was empty. There was nothing to throw up. Tears and cold sweat covered my face. After a long while, I finally straightened up, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on my face again and again. The ice water was bone-chilling. I looked up at my reflection in the mirror—face deathly pale, but eyes frighteningly clear. I suddenly laughed. Laughing and laughing, tears streamed down again. “Thank you, Alpha Julian.” I said softly to my reflection in the mirror. “Thank you for using the cruelest method to help me completely kill the last bit of softness in my heart.” I dried my face and walked out of the restroom. I returned to the full moon ceremony square. The bonfire still burned. Standing in the shadows, I watched Julian and Elara’s embracing silhouettes in the firelight, my heart dead calm. “Julian, I will never, ever love you again.”

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My husband was a famous philanthropist. His monthly salary of thirty-eight thousand dollars—he donated every single cent to charity. The household expenses, my in-laws’ medical bills, our son’s tuition—all of it fell on my shoulders alone. My monthly salary couldn’t cover everything, so I had to discuss it with my husband: “Could you keep a little of your salary each month for the family?” My husband got angry: “I earn my own money from my own work. If I want to donate it, I’ll donate it. Do you really think you can control that too?” My in-laws chimed in to help him: “Our son is a famous philanthropist. Instead of being proud of him, you’re trying to scheme for his money and ruin his reputation. How can you be so selfish?” Even my five-year-old son blamed me: “Mommy won’t let Daddy be a good person. Mommy’s bad!” I nodded and didn’t argue anymore. Then I turned around and agreed to the company’s six-month closed training program. I wanted to see how this family of philanthropists would survive without my salary.

On payday, Anthony had just gotten home from work when he posted on social media: “Donated $158,000 this month. A small contribution, may kindness spread.” The post included his donation records and certificates from the charity organization. It quickly garnered a flood of likes and comments: “Mr. Anthony is such a good person! Not only did he donate his salary, he even donated his year-end bonus!” “Donating his entire monthly salary without keeping a cent—that’s a true philanthropist. Respect.” Anderson and Polo also quickly liked and commented: “Worthy of being our good son. So proud of you!” I sighed, turned off my phone, and opened my budget book. This month I had to pay our son’s tuition, prepare for my in-laws’ medical expenses, the car loan, the mortgage, and pay back last month’s credit card overdraft for household expenses… The total came to over eighteen thousand dollars. My salary was twelve thousand dollars. We were six thousand short. It was like this again. Every month at this time, the family bills felt like a knife pressed against my throat, making it hard to breathe. I took a deep breath and turned to look at Anthony on the couch. He was still scrolling through Twitter, smiling occasionally—probably because someone had praised him again. After hesitating several times, I spoke up: “Anthony, I want to discuss something with you.” He looked at his phone without even lifting his head: “Go ahead.” I paused, then said gently: “The bills this month are eighteen thousand, but my salary is only twelve thousand. We’re six thousand short.” “Could you stop donating all your money in the future and keep a little for the family?” Anthony’s finger stopped scrolling. He looked up at me like he’d heard something completely unreasonable, and said with displeasure: “I work hard to earn my money. If I want to donate it, I’ll donate it. Do you really think you can control that?” I explained: “I’m not trying to stop you from donating. I just hope you can keep a little for the family.” “Dad has heart problems, Mom has diabetes, our son needs to go to school, and we still have car and mortgage payments. The expenses are too high. I can’t handle it all on my own salary.” Anthony snorted coldly and said self-righteously: “If you can’t handle it, why don’t you work harder?” “People only think I’m great when I donate all my money. Why are you trying to interfere with my good deeds just because you want to be lazy?” I looked at Anthony in disbelief. I really hadn’t expected him to say something like that. For this family, to earn more money, I often worked overtime late into the night. All these years, I hadn’t bought myself a single piece of clothing, hadn’t slept a full night, and I didn’t even dare take sick leave when I was ill.

I had given everything I had. Now that I truly couldn’t support it anymore, I just wanted him—as a husband, a father, and a son—to take on a little of his responsibility and obligation. How could that look like me not working hard enough and wanting to be lazy in his eyes? I was about to speak when my in-laws’ bedroom door opened. They had clearly heard my conversation with Anthony just now. As soon as Polo opened the door, she said to me earnestly: “Juliet, this really is your fault.” “Anthony is a famous philanthropist. Instead of being proud of him, how can you scheme for his money?” My chest felt stuffy with frustration, but I still explained gently: “Anthony is also part of this family. You’re his parents. I just want him to consider our family a little while he’s donating. How does that make me a schemer?” “And besides, the money isn’t even for me.” “Dad’s heart condition requires long-term medication. That imported medicine costs over six hundred dollars a box. Your insulin has run out too. If there’s no money, I can’t even afford your medication.” Polo waved her hand impatiently: “Enough, enough. We know our own bodies.” “You’re using us as an excuse because you’re being precious and afraid of hard work, aren’t you?” Father-in-law Anderson also snorted disdainfully: “Exactly. I’ve never seen anyone as selfish as you.” “The reason Anthony became a household-name philanthropist is because he donates his entire salary without keeping a cent. If you ask him to keep some for household expenses now, aren’t you just ruining his persona and reputation?” “Anthony finally became a philanthropist everyone respects. As his wife, instead of following his example, how can you hold him back over this little bit of money?” The three of them took turns attacking me like I was some unforgivable criminal. Looking at them, I felt like someone had struck me over the head with a club. I instantly became clear-headed. All these years, Anthony had been busy with donations every day. As soon as he got off work, he went to various charity galas and donation events. Meanwhile, besides frantically working, I had to squeeze out time to take Anderson and Polo to the hospital for appointments, checkups, and prescriptions. I often used even my company lunch breaks to take them to the hospital. Whenever that happened, Polo would hold my hand and say: “Juliet, Anthony only has his charitable work in his heart. This family is so lucky to have you.” “Without you, Anderson and I wouldn’t know what to do.” Anderson would also look grateful: “You’ve sacrificed so much for this family. If Anthony ever wrongs you in the future, tell us. We won’t let him get away with it.” Even Anthony often sighed: “Juliet, marrying such a considerate and understanding woman like you is the greatest blessing of my life.” “Don’t worry, I’ll treat you well in the future and make up for all your hard work these years.” They said it so sincerely, and I believed them. So all these years, I gritted my teeth and bore all the suffering and exhaustion alone. Because I thought they genuinely understood me, appreciated my efforts, and needed my help. I thought once Anthony’s charitable work stabilized, he would turn back to look at this family, share the burden with me, and keep his promise to never let me suffer any grievance. But today I finally realized—I was wrong. Terribly wrong. Those grateful words and heartfelt promises were nothing but pretty lies to deceive me from beginning to end.

They never intended to contribute anything to this family. What they needed was a fool who would work tirelessly without asking for anything in return. As long as I didn’t ask for money, didn’t complain about being tired, and didn’t ask for help, I was the good daughter-in-law and good wife in their eyes. But the moment I truly couldn’t hold on anymore and wanted them to share a little of the burden, they started calling me precious, selfish, and unreasonable. In this moment, I suddenly felt like all my efforts over the years were a joke. Just as I was feeling bitter inside, my son, who had been playing with blocks on the balcony, suddenly ran up to me and said with displeasure: “Mommy’s bad. I hate Mommy!” I looked down at my son’s angry little face. My heart felt like someone had grabbed it and squeezed hard. This child—I had traded my life for him. When I was pregnant with him, I had severe morning sickness. Everything I ate, I threw up. I lost fifteen pounds in the first five months. The doctor said the fetus was developing slowly. I forced myself to eat. I ate, threw up, and ate again. At seven months, I developed gestational hypertension. My legs swelled like pillars. Every step I took left me gasping for breath. The day I gave birth, I hemorrhaged badly and nearly died. But now, this child I had traded my life for was saying I was bad, saying he hated me. I took a deep breath, crouched down, and asked him: “Henry, how did I become a bad mommy?” Henry put his hands on his hips and pointed at me self-righteously: “My classmates and teachers at preschool all say Daddy is a good person. You’re stopping Daddy from being a good person, so you’re a bad person!” “You bad mommy, I hate you. I never want to see you again!” After saying that, he turned and ran to Anthony, hugging him tightly, unwilling to look at me again. Seeing this, a flash of smugness appeared in Anthony’s eyes. He straightened his back, looked at me, and said proudly: “See? Even Henry knows you’re in the wrong.” “You really should reflect on yourself. Stop talking about money all the time. You reek of greed. It’s embarrassing.” Seeing the four of them united against me, I didn’t argue anymore. Instead, I asked Anthony one last time: “Are you sure you’re unwilling to contribute any part of your salary to household expenses?” Polo’s insulin had run out. Anderson’s heart medication was nearly gone. And Henry’s tuition had been delayed day after day. My account was completely empty. This family desperately needed money to survive. Faced with my question, disgust floated in Anthony’s eyes. “After all that’s been said, you’re still eyeing my money?” “Fine, then today I’ll make you give up completely.” After saying that, he opened his phone in front of the whole family and operated it for a bit. A few seconds later, he held the phone screen up to my face. He announced condescendingly: “See this? I’ve directly linked my salary card to the charity organization’s account. It can’t be changed for three years.” “From now on, my salary will automatically transfer to the charity’s account every month. Don’t even think about going after my salary anymore.” Seeing this, Polo was the first to clap and cheer: “Anthony, you did the right thing!” “Donations should be clean and complete, with no way back. That’s a true philanthropist.” Anderson nodded repeatedly and gave a thumbs up with pride: “Exactly. I support you.” Then he looked at me meaningfully: “Unlike some people who’ve fallen into the money pit, only knowing money, money, money all day. Those kinds of people are too narrow-minded and destined to amount to nothing.” Henry also clapped and cheered: “Daddy’s so great! Daddy’s a good person!”

“I love Daddy the most!” The whole family, neat and tidy, happy all around. The eyes looking at me all seemed to see me as an incompatible villain. Looking at those eyes full of contempt, I found it somewhat laughable. All these years, Anthony had never done anything for this family. Yet he became the great hero and good person in everyone’s eyes. While I, who had drained myself of everything, became the villain in everyone’s eyes. If that’s the case, what was I even struggling for? I nodded calmly: “Donations really should be done without reservation. I hope he can keep it up forever.” Seeing that I had finally changed my position, Anthony looked relieved: “You’ve finally come to your senses.” “I’m doing a great deed. As my wife, you should support me. If the family doesn’t have enough money, work harder, do more overtime. If that doesn’t work, you can get a part-time job.” My in-laws immediately nodded: “Exactly. Look for the problem in yourself first. Having a good husband like Anthony is your honor.” “Stop thinking about being lazy and eyeing his money all day.” I smiled and didn’t say anything more. Instead, I silently took out my phone. Three days ago, my manager had sent me a message: “Juliet, the company has a six-month closed training program at headquarters.” “The spots are very hard to get. After the training, you’ll come back as a director with several times the salary.” “The company leadership all think you’ve been working extra hard these years and are very suitable for this spot. Think about it?” At the time, I replied: “Manager Kevin, my in-laws are in poor health and my child is still young. The family can’t do without me. I probably can’t go.” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go. I just couldn’t let go of this family. Because this training was completely closed. For six months, I couldn’t go home, couldn’t use my phone, and couldn’t contact anyone from the outside world. Six months without anyone earning money at home—who would buy Anderson’s medicine? Who would take Polo to her checkups? Who would pay Henry’s tuition? Who would pay the mortgage and car loan? Manager Kevin thought it was a pity and said: “Don’t refuse so quickly. This opportunity is really good. Think about it more carefully.” Looking back now, I was so foolish. I almost gave up such a great opportunity for professional development for a group of people who didn’t consider me family at all. I took a deep breath and typed a few words: “Manager Kevin, I’ve decided to participate in the training. When do we leave?” Manager Kevin replied almost instantly: “I was waiting for you to say that!” “We leave tomorrow. Just submit your materials tonight.” I replied “Okay,” then quickly prepared the materials and submitted them. Manager Kevin was also very efficient and immediately booked me a flight for tomorrow morning. The next day, I woke up before dawn. Anthony and my in-laws were all still sleeping. I simply packed my luggage and took a cab to the airport alone. When the plane landed, it was already afternoon. As soon as I turned on my phone, countless missed calls and messages from Anthony flooded in: “Juliet, where did you go?” “My parents’ medicine has run out. Hurry up and buy it. They’re very uncomfortable right now.” “Also, the preschool teacher just called and said Henry’s tuition has reached the final payment deadline. If we don’t pay today, Henry will be forced to withdraw!” Looking at those anxious messages on my phone, I smiled. Now they knew to panic? Where were they earlier? My phone was still vibrating. Messages kept flooding in.

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Ever since my husband started staying at his late teammate’s widow’s house during every leave. I noticed my daughter began writing “My dad disappeared” in her essays. The teacher called to confirm. I was silent for a moment. Yes, it’s been a long time. For Father’s Day crafts in my daughter’s class, they had to make cards for their dads. She lay at her desk, folded a paper airplane, and carefully wrote four words: “For Heaven.” On parent visiting day, the walls were covered with children’s essays titled “My Dad.” My daughter wrote: My dad went to the neighbor lady’s house. That lady kept crying, and then Dad disappeared and never came back. Later, my husband finally noticed something was wrong and rushed home in a panic, bringing flowers to celebrate our daughter’s birthday. When the door opened, there was a new essay by my daughter on the table, titled “If Dad Were Still Alive.” “Mia, is this how you teach our child?” Luke stared at the open composition book on the table. The top line, written in pencil, read “If Dad Were Still Alive.” Luke’s smile faded as his eyes widened. “I’m alive and well, and you let her write that I’m dead in her essay?!” He turned to look at me, raising his voice and slamming the cake he was holding onto the table. “I didn’t teach her that.” “She wrote it herself.” Luke clenched his jaw and grabbed the composition book as if to tear it up. He stared at his daughter’s handwriting for a moment, then put the book down. He had no idea this wasn’t the first time Nina had written about him being dead in her essays. Ever since he brought his late teammate’s widow, Linda, and her son back to our city, he ceased to exist as a father in our daughter’s world. I said nothing more, just watched him coldly. Nina heard the commotion and walked out of the bedroom. She wore faded pajamas and hid behind me. She didn’t run over to call him “Dad” like before, nor did she cry in fear at Luke’s rage. She just looked at Luke with calm eyes. Like looking at a stranger. That look was more piercing than any tantrum. Luke’s breathing hitched, and all his anger seemed to lodge in his throat, blocked by his daughter’s indifferent expression. He tugged irritably at his tie, suppressing his temper, and pulled a shoebox from the bag behind him. “Nina, come here.” He tried to make his voice sound gentle. “Dad passed by the mall today and bought you the ballet shoes you wanted most.” “Aren’t you taking your exam next month?” “Come try them on and see if they fit.” Those were the ballet shoes Nina had been looking at in the shop window for three months. Luke always said he’d buy them “next time.” If this were before, Nina would have jumped for joy. But now, Nina didn’t move. Seeing this, Luke sighed and knelt down on his own, opening the shoebox and reaching for his daughter’s foot. Just as his hand was about to touch Nina’s ankle. His phone rang. It was a special ringtone—soft music. Everyone at the security company knew this was Linda’s exclusive ringtone. Luke’s hand snapped back as if electrocuted. He reflexively stood up and pulled out his phone to answer. “Linda, what’s wrong?” His voice carried a tenderness and urgency he himself hadn’t even noticed. Linda’s pitiful crying came through the phone. “Luke, I’m sorry to bother you again.” “But Ryan had an asthma attack in the middle of the night. He’s crying and calling for Uncle Luke.” “I really can’t handle him alone. I’m so scared.” Standing nearby, I heard this clumsy yet familiar sob story and felt my stomach churn. Luke’s expression changed. He didn’t hesitate for a second. He casually tossed the ballet shoes onto the carpet and grabbed his car keys. “Mia, watch our daughter. Ryan’s situation is urgent. I have to go over there right now.” He said it so righteously, as if abandoning his biological daughter to care for someone else’s son was perfectly natural. Bang. The door slammed shut. He didn’t even look back at his daughter. The house fell silent as death. Nina walked forward and looked down at the ballet shoes. Then she bent down, picked up the shoes, and threw them into the nearby trash can. “Mom.” Nina turned to look at me, her voice floating. “Dead people don’t buy shoes, right?” My heart felt like it was being torn apart, and even breathing carried the taste of blood. I knelt down and hugged my daughter tightly, stroking her hair. “Right.” After Nina fell asleep, I sat alone in the study and opened the bottom drawer. Inside lay a transfer notification already stamped with the official seal. I’m an orthopedic attending physician. To accommodate Luke’s work, I’d given up three opportunities to study at the best orthopedic hospital in America. But now, I didn’t want to stay in this cesspool anymore. I picked up a red pen and heavily circled a date on the desk calendar fifteen days away. That was the final deadline to report for the transfer. In fifteen days, my daughter and I would leave this city. As if this person had never existed in our lives.

Countdown Day 10. I’d just finished a six-hour emergency surgery and dragged my exhausted body home. As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, I froze. The front door was wide open, and I could hear moving workers shouting inside. I hurried in, and the scene before my eyes made my blood run cold. The living room was a mess. Several workers were carrying the piano out of Nina’s study. Luke stood to the side in casual clothes, directing them. “Be careful, don’t scratch the edges. This piano’s expensive.” That was the Steinway piano I’d saved up three years’ worth of night shift pay to buy for Nina’s fifth birthday. Nina polished it every single day, treating it like her most precious possession. “Luke, what are you doing?” I walked over with a cold face, blocking the workers. Luke saw me come home early, and a flash of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly covered by self-righteousness. “Don’t make trouble here.” “Linda just rented a new place. Ryan’s being teased at school for not having a dad. The doctor said learning piano could heal his psychological trauma.” He paused. “Linda’s raising a kid alone—it’s not easy. She can’t afford a piano this nice.” “Nina hasn’t been playing much lately anyway. We’ll just lend it to Ryan for a bit.” I listened to his absurdly twisted logic and laughed in anger. Using his biological daughter’s treasure to fill another child’s wounds? How could he make such blatant favoritism sound so reasonable? If this were before, I definitely would have rushed over and fought with him to keep the piano. Instead, I took out my phone, opened the video function, and recorded the workers’ movements and Luke’s face. “What are you recording?” Luke frowned and stepped forward to grab my phone. I stepped back, avoiding his hand. “Keeping evidence.” “This is marital property. You’re privately transferring it to an outsider. I have the right to record it.” Luke’s face darkened. “Mia, why have you become so cold and calculating?” “That’s Sean’s son!” “Sean died saving me! It’s just a damn piano. Do you really need to be so petty?” He pulled out his phone and transferred five thousand dollars to me. “Fine, consider this me buying it out.” “Just go buy Nina a cheaper electric keyboard to practice on.” With that, he directed the workers to carry the piano out. The door closed. I looked at the empty study and felt suffocated. Not long after, Nina came home from school. She walked to the study door with her backpack and stopped. The space where the piano had been was empty, leaving only four indentations on the wooden floor. Nina didn’t cry or ask me where the piano went. She just silently walked back to her room and opened the composition book Luke had crumpled. She picked up her pencil and quietly wrote a fourth essay. The title was “My Dead Dad Took My Piano Away Too.” I stood outside the door watching my daughter’s thin silhouette, my eyes stinging. My phone vibrated. I opened SnapChat—it was a post from Linda’s feed. In the photo, Ryan sat at that piano, smiling brightly. The caption read: Ryan finally has his first piano. Thank you to dearest Captain Luke for giving us mother and son the light to live. Below it was Luke’s like. I stared at that photo for a long time, then finally liked it too. I switched out of SnapChat and opened my banking app, paying the full balance on the house in my transfer location all at once. Right after I completed the payment, Luke sent a text. [Once Ryan’s emotions stabilize, I’ll take leave next weekend and take Nina to Disneyland to make it up to her.] [Stop teaching our kid to hold grudges.] I looked at the word “make it up” on the screen and sneered mockingly. I didn’t reply. He didn’t know there would be no next weekend.

Countdown Day 3. Today was the awards ceremony for the provincial children’s art competition. Nina wore the new princess dress I’d bought her and sat in the front row of the art gallery. Her eyes were fixed on the entrance doors, unblinking. I sat beside her, holding her slightly sweaty little hand, my heart aching. I knew that man wouldn’t come, but children always hope. Nina said quietly, “Mom, Dad said he’d definitely come watch me receive my award today.” I didn’t speak, just held her hand tighter. Ten minutes before the ceremony began, my phone lit up. Luke sent a message. [Emergency task came up. Can’t get away.] [Tell Nina I’m sorry for me.] The familiar excuse. The familiar broken promise. I turned my phone face down on my lap without telling Nina. Nina looked back at the entrance. “Maybe he’s stuck in traffic.” The ceremony proceeded smoothly. The host picked up the microphone. “Now, we’ll reveal the grand prize winner of this competition!” Nina’s hand squeezed my fingers. “The winning piece: ‘Dad in the Flames’!” The big screen lit up, displaying Nina’s painting. The Luke in the picture wore rescue gear, his back to the flames. She’d spent half a month painting this picture of her dad. It was filled with her admiration for him. Nina stood up and looked back at me. “Mom! It’s my painting!” I smiled, ready to push her toward the stage. The host continued, “Please welcome the winner, Ryan Sean, to receive the award!” The smile on Nina’s face froze. The signature in the bottom right corner of the screen read “Ryan Sean,” not “Nina Brown.” Her painting—the signature had been changed to Linda’s son’s name. Nina stood frozen in place, opening her mouth but making no sound. A parent nearby leaned over, whispering, “Why did that little girl stand up? Didn’t they call Ryan?” Nina heard it. She sat back down in her chair and lowered her head. I clenched my fists and walked straight toward the family section. Linda was just standing up with Ryan, straightening his tie. I blocked her path. “Linda, stop right there.” Linda looked up, the smile still on her face. “Oh, Mia, you’re here too?” I stared at her. “That painting was drawn by my daughter. What right does your son have to sign it?” Linda stepped back, lowering her voice and shrinking her shoulders. “Mia, don’t be angry. Luke handled this himself. I didn’t know anything…” She paused, then leaned closer, speaking in a voice only we could hear, and smiled. “But Mia, who drew the picture doesn’t really matter, does it? What matters is who Luke wants to cherish.” “So what if your daughter stayed up late every night painting? With one word, Luke gave all her hard work to our Ryan, didn’t he?” “That’s what they call love by association. No matter how angry you get, you can’t change the fact that Luke doesn’t care about you two at all.” “You’re shameless!” Looking at her face, I raised my hand and slapped her. Linda’s head snapped to the side as she clutched her face and cried out. I was about to drag her to find the organizers when someone rushed out from the side and shoved me hard. “Mia! What the hell is wrong with you!” I was pushed back several steps, my lower back hitting the back of a chair. I bent over in pain. I looked up. It was Luke. He protected Linda and Ryan behind him, glaring at me with red eyes. Linda buried herself against Luke’s back, crying. “Luke, it hurts so much… Don’t blame Mia. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let Ryan accept this award. I’ll return it…” Luke saw the red mark on Linda’s face, held her tighter, then turned and pointed at me angrily. “Mia, are you sick! Hitting people in public—do you realize you look like a shrew right now!” I steadied myself against the chair and looked at him. “Luke, that painting took Nina half a month to finish. You put Ryan’s name on it, and now you’re shoving me for this woman?” “It’s just a painting!” Luke cut me off. “Nina can paint more! Ryan grew up without a father! He’s being mocked by classmates! He needs this kind of recognition to build confidence!” “Sean died saving me! What’s wrong with giving an award to his son?” “As an elder, you have no generosity at all. You even hit Linda. You’re completely unreasonable!” Shrew. Unreasonable. My daughter had her work stolen—the painting of her father stolen. I sought justice, and in return, her biological father shoved me to the ground for another woman. I shut my mouth. Ryan was led onto the stage by staff. He held up the trophy, standing in front of Nina’s painting, smiling at the camera. Linda leaned into Luke’s embrace, the corners of her mouth lifting. She picked up the microphone, her voice choking. “Ryan could have today all thanks to his godfather, Captain Luke…” “Captain Luke treats us mother and son better than family…” Luke sighed. “Mom.” A voice called from behind. I turned around. Nina stood not far away. She looked at Ryan holding the trophy, at Luke embracing Linda, at me clutching my waist. “Nina…” I tried to reach for her. Nina stepped back. She looked down at the contestant badge on her chest. She reached out and tore the badge apart bit by bit, throwing it into a nearby trash can. She stood up and dusted off her hands. “Mom, let’s go.” My daughter kept her little face tense, forcing back tears. My heart was breaking. I walked over and hugged my daughter tightly without a word. I turned and left that place. I didn’t argue anymore. Arguing with a blind and heartless man was pointless. When we got home, Nina sat in her room for a long time, then opened her composition book and wrote a new entry. The title was “Dad Gave My Painting to Someone Else and Hit Mom for Them.” I opened the booking app and changed our flight tickets to the day after tomorrow.

The day before leaving. I took Nina to buy necessities at the downtown mall. The mall was crowded with people. Nina held my hand and stopped as we passed a pizza restaurant. I followed her gaze. Through the glass, I saw Luke. He was patiently cutting a small piece of pizza with a knife and fork, blowing on it, then carefully feeding it to Ryan. Linda sat beside him, smiling happily, naturally pulling out a napkin to wipe sauce from the corner of Luke’s mouth. A family of three, happy and harmonious. Watching this scene, I actually felt like laughing. This was his so-called emergency task. His lie exposed right to my face—ridiculous and ironic. Nina’s little hand gripped the corner of my clothes tightly as she asked quietly, “Mom, isn’t Dad supposed to be working?” I laughed coldly and pulled Nina to leave. A piercing alarm suddenly sounded. The next second, a massive explosion erupted from the kitchen in the first-floor dining area. Flames and thick smoke burst through the mall’s interior glass walls. The crowd screamed and surged toward the emergency exits. “Nina!” I shouted, instinctively grabbing my daughter’s hand. But the crowd was like a madness with no direction. A burly man crashed into me from the side. My back hit something and I stumbled, falling to the ground. My hand was empty. “Mom!” By the time I scrambled up, thick smoke had spread to the second floor. I searched through the crowd. Through the black smoke, I saw Nina fall under a counter. She was blocked by a fallen advertising board. Just then, a figure rushed out. It was Luke. He immediately began evacuating people. He saw her! He saw his daughter fallen under the counter! From the other side came Linda’s scream. “Luke!” “Help!” “Ryan’s trapped under a shelf!” Luke’s body went rigid. He turned back, staring at his biological daughter so close by, his eyes filled with a struggle I couldn’t understand. That struggle lasted less than two seconds. He shouted toward Nina. “Nina, don’t move!” “Dad will come back for you after getting Ryan out!” With that, I watched him decisively turn and rush toward that other woman and her child. He picked up Ryan, protecting Linda as they rushed toward the safety passage. In a life-or-death moment, he abandoned his biological daughter once again. Watching this scene, I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. With one “wait a moment,” he gave up on his own daughter. In the billowing smoke. Nina watched Luke disappear, her small body motionless. She stopped crying, stopped calling out. She just slowly lowered the little hand covering her nose and mouth, letting the choking black smoke pour into her throat. A tear slid down her cheek as her lips moved. “Mom, Dad went to save someone else… Today, Nina really has no dad anymore.” Those words pierced through my last shred of rationality. I screamed, grabbed a fire extinguisher from the corner, and smashed at the obstacles blocking the way like a madwoman. “Nina!” “Mom’s here!” “Mom’s here!” I scooped up my daughter, who was about to lose consciousness, covered her face with my jacket, and rushed out. The moment I ran out of the fire scene, an ambulance had just arrived. I rushed onto the vehicle carrying my oxygen-deprived daughter. Outside the emergency room, the red light came on. I collapsed onto the bench. I took out my phone and opened my lawyer’s chat. [I’ve signed the divorce agreement.] [Go through litigation. Cut all ties completely.] After sending it, I opened the booking app. I changed our originally tomorrow’s flight to tonight’s earliest available one. I didn’t want to stay in this place for one more second. Luke, you’ve lost us forever.

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