Category: English

I was at the community clinic with Leo and Lily for their vaccinations, and while we waited, I idly flipped through their health records. Leo, blood type A. Lily, blood type B. I thumbed back a page, double-checking my brother Owen’s blood type. Type O. His wife, Sarah, was Type A. Father Type O, Mother Type A – a child could only be Type A or Type O. Type B? Impossible. Unless… Lily’s biological father was someone else entirely. I snapped the health record shut. The nurse’s voice calling out numbers buzzed in my ears, distant and muffled. Sarah was squatting nearby, wiping drool from Lily’s chin. She looked up and smiled at me. “Skylar, what are you spacing out about with that book?” I offered a smile in return. “Oh, nothing. Just checking how much weight they’ve gained.” That secret, I kept to myself. For three years, it remained hidden. 01 Back home after the shots, the whole family was gathered in the living room, doting on the kids. My mom lifted Leo high, laughing delightedly. “Look at Leo’s eyebrows! Exactly like Owen’s when he was little!” My dad chimed in, “Lily takes after Sarah, with those big eyes. She’ll be a real beauty someday.” Sarah leaned back on the sofa, a perfectly poised smile playing on her lips. “They each take after one of us, Mom and Dad. It’s perfect, isn’t it?” I sat in a corner, nursing a glass of water, saying nothing. They each take after one of us. She’d uttered that phrase a hundred times. Whenever a relative or friend remarked that “the two children don’t look very much alike,” she’d just wave it away with that line, light as air. Everyone would just smile, no one thinking much of it. My brother, Owen, emerged from the kitchen, bringing out a dish. His apron was stained with grease, and sweat beaded on his forehead. “Sarah, try this sweet and sour ribs. I added the cherries you love.” Sarah didn’t even glance at it. “Ribs again? Can’t you ever make something different?” Owen paused, his smile faltering slightly. “How about I make fish tomorrow?” “Whatever.” She picked up her phone, dismissing him. My mom quickly intervened. “Sarah’s busy with work, and her appetite isn’t great, Owen. Don’t take it to heart.” Owen nodded, silently placing the ribs near Sarah’s hand. I’d witnessed this scene countless times over the past three years. Owen cooked, washed dishes, took care of the children, fixed leaky pipes – he did everything. And Sarah? She’d come home from work, sprawl on the sofa, scrolling on her phone. She’d occasionally hold Leo, but she was exceptionally attentive to Lily. The clothes she bought for Lily were all designer brands. Leo wore Lily’s hand-me-downs. “Boys are sturdy, they can wear anything,” she’d explain. I never said anything. But I remembered clearly: Leo was the older brother, Lily the younger. He was born a full four minutes before her. What kind of logic was it for the older brother to wear his younger sister’s cast-offs? After dinner, I helped clear the dishes. Owen was in the kitchen washing a pot, his voice low as he spoke to me. “Skylar, Sarah hasn’t been in a great mood lately. Don’t pay it any mind.” I looked at the red marks on his hands, splattered by hot oil. “Owen, is she good to you?” He paused, then laughed. “We’re a couple, right? Just a long adjustment period.” Three years, and still adjusting. I put the last bowl in the cupboard, asking no more questions. As I was leaving, changing my shoes by the door, Lily toddled over and hugged my leg, looking up and calling for “Auntie.” I knelt down to look at her face. Big eyes, a delicate nose, a pointed chin. She certainly resembled Sarah. But her earlobes… They were completely attached to her face, small and fused. Owen, had detached earlobes. Sarah, also had detached earlobes. Two people with detached earlobes, having a child with attached earlobes? Genetically speaking, the probability was close to zero. I stroked Lily’s head and stood up. “Auntie’s leaving now, be a good girl.” I stood in the hallway for a long time. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to speak. I couldn’t. What if I was wrong? What if there was another explanation? But I’d studied genetics for seven years, and I couldn’t find any “other explanation” that could simultaneously account for both the blood type and the earlobes. The elevator doors opened. I stepped inside, pressing the ground floor button. For three years, I had been waiting for the right moment. 02 I remembered everything clearly from three years ago. Sarah was Owen’s college classmate; they dated for five years, and she became pregnant in their second year of marriage. The whole family was overjoyed when she was expecting, especially my mom. “It’s twins! Our family lineage must have some good karma!” Owen practically worshipped Sarah. He quit a high-paying project team with long hours, coming home on time every day to cook. Sarah suffered severe morning sickness during her pregnancy, and Owen would hold a basin by her bedside at night. She craved dumplings at three in the morning, and he’d ride his electric scooter across four neighborhoods just to find them. The day the children were born, Owen cried like a baby outside the delivery room. Two boys, seven pounds two ounces and six pounds eight ounces, mother and sons healthy. The whole family was radiant with joy. No one noticed the fleeting moment of panic in Sarah’s eyes in the delivery room. I did. Back then, I hadn’t considered the blood types, but I remembered her expression freezing for a second when she saw Lily. Then she quickly smiled. “They both look just like you,” she told Owen. During her confinement period, I went home to help with the babies. Sarah’s mother also came – an impeccably dressed, sharp-tongued woman. She called Owen “young Owen,” her tone imbued with an undeniable sense of superiority. “Young Owen, Sarah has never known hardship since childhood. You’ll have to take good care of her.” Owen smiled and agreed. Sarah’s mother only held Lily, barely touching Leo. I asked her about it once. “Auntie, Leo’s fussy too, could you help soothe him?” She gave me a dismissive glance. “The older one takes after your family, you soothe him. The younger one is like our Sarah, I feel for her.” Even then, I felt something was off. They were just twins; did they need to be so distinctly separated? But what truly made me suspicious was the first month celebration. One of Sarah’s female friends arrived, dressed elegantly, driving a white BMW. When she picked up Lily, she froze for a full three seconds. Then she quickly walked to the hallway, grabbed Sarah’s arm, and whispered something. I only caught the last few words as I passed by. “…Are you out of your mind?” Sarah yanked her hand away, her face pale. “Stay out of it.” I never forgot that incident. I remembered it for three years. That friend never appeared at Owen’s house again. Sarah said she had moved abroad. But I’d seen her checking in at a local Japanese restaurant on Sarah’s social media just a month before. She hadn’t moved abroad. She’d been blocked by Sarah. I collected these fragmented pieces, like a puzzle, fitting them together towards a conclusion I didn’t want to believe. Until that day at the clinic, when I saw the blood types in the health records. The last piece of the puzzle fell into place. The picture was complete. And it was ugly. 03 After the children turned two, Sarah changed. Or rather, she stopped pretending. Owen’s construction business had been going for six years; he’d made some money in the early years and bought a two-bedroom apartment in the city center, titled in both their names. There was still a $32,000 car loan outstanding. Sarah worked as an administrator at a real estate company, earning just over seven thousand dollars a month, but her spending speed was three times her salary. First, she upgraded her phone to the latest iPhone model. Then came the bags; a $1,200 Coach was replaced by a $3,600 Celine. My mom would occasionally grumble, and Sarah would shoot back with a smile. “Mom, if a woman doesn’t treat herself well, who will?” My mom would fall silent. Owen, meanwhile, still woke up at six every morning, left for the construction site at seven, and returned home around eight in the evening, still needing to cook and put the kids to bed. One weekend, I visited their house and found him asleep on the kitchen floor, leaning against the cabinets. The soup in the pot was still bubbling. Sarah was in the bedroom, watching TV with a face mask on, the volume cranked up. I turned off the stove and woke Owen. He rubbed his eyes, his first words being: “Is the soup ready? Sarah’s waiting for it.” My nose stung, and I couldn’t hold it back. “Owen, aren’t you tired?” “No.” He got up and stirred the soup. “A man just has to shoulder it, right?” He wasn’t tired, but my heart ached for him. Three months later, on a Saturday, I went to see my nephews as usual. Opening the door, the sight inside stunned me. The wedding photo on the living room wall had been taken down. In its place was a solo artistic photo of Sarah – in a long white dress, by the beach, smiling brightly. “Sarah said the wedding photo was ugly, so she changed it,” Owen explained. On the coffee table, Leo was gnawing on a teething biscuit. Lily sat in Sarah’s lap, wearing a navy blue children’s suit jacket with a small gold emblem on the collar. I recognized that emblem. Burberry Kids. One piece, at least two thousand. And Leo? He wore a faded cotton t-shirt with a thumb-sized hole at the elbow. I knelt down and picked Leo up. “Sarah, Leo’s clothes need changing.” Sarah didn’t even look up. “Boys wear out clothes quickly; it’s a waste to buy anything too good.” “Lily’s a boy too.” She finally looked up at me, her gaze momentarily cold. “Lily is delicate. Better fabrics are less likely to cause allergies.” I didn’t say anything more. But as I left that day, I passed by the spare bedroom door and saw a partially opened delivery box. A corner of something was visible inside – a pair of children’s shoes, with the New Balance logo on the box. The size was Lily’s. Next to it was a shopping bag from “Rainbow Heights Baby & Toddler.” I knew that store. The one downtown, specializing in imported baby products; a single pair of socks cost ninety dollars. There was a receipt in the bag; I glanced at it while pretending to tidy up. Total amount: $4,312. The memo section read: For Lily only. Four thousand three hundred. Owen had borrowed five thousand dollars from me last month, saying he needed to pay Leo’s preschool tuition. One month’s tuition was eighteen hundred. He had to borrow even eighteen hundred. She spent four thousand three hundred on Lily in one go. I pushed the corner of the delivery box back in and gently closed the door. Walking out of the apartment complex gate, the wind was strong. I stood by the roadside for a long time before I managed to flag down a taxi. The driver asked where I was going. I gave the address, then turned to stare out the window. The taxi driver probably saw my face in the rearview mirror and said nothing more. 04 The turning point came on the children’s third birthday. Owen had decorated the house with balloons and streamers, and ordered a two-tiered buttercream cake with a “3” candle. The whole family was there: my parents, my aunt and uncle’s family, and Sarah’s mother. The two children, dressed in new clothes, ran around the living room. Leo’s new clothes were bought by Owen online: a pure cotton plaid shirt, tag price $89. Lily’s new clothes were bought by Sarah, and you could tell at a glance they weren’t cheap. When it was time for cake, Sarah’s mother held Lily on her lap, feeding her bite by bite. Leo reached for the cake, but Sarah’s mother blocked him. “Wait, let your brother eat first.” Leo’s hand retracted, watching longingly. I cut a piece of cake and handed it to Leo. Sarah’s mother glared at me. “This child is too impatient, no manners at all.” My mom quickly interjected, “My dear relative, they’re just kids, they’re all greedy.” Sarah’s mother huffed, saying nothing more. But what happened next made me completely unable to sit still. When it was time to blow out the candles, Sarah pulled out her phone to take pictures. “Lily, sit here, yes, turn your face this way.” She took seven or eight shots, changing angles three or four times. Then she put her phone away. Leo was still standing by the cake, his face smeared with frosting, smiling and showing his two little canine teeth. “Mommy, take my picture.” Sarah looked down at her phone, as if she hadn’t heard. “Mommy, please take my picture.” Leo tugged at her sleeve. Sarah impatiently pushed his hand away. “Your face is all covered in frosting, it won’t look good. Don’t fuss.” Leo’s smile slowly faded. The three-year-old’s eyes slowly welled up, but he didn’t cry. He just quietly took two steps back and stood in the corner of the table. My fork in my hand was twisted out of shape. My aunt leaned over and whispered, “Skylar, isn’t Sarah treating the two children too differently?” I didn’t answer. But that night, after I got home, I sat at my desk for a full hour. In the drawer lay the blood type data I had copied from Leo’s health record a year ago. A and B. My brother, Owen, Type O. Sarah, Type A. Father O, Mother A – a child could not be Type B. Unless Lily’s father carried the Type B blood gene. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Three years. The moment I had been waiting for, perhaps I shouldn’t wait any longer.

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Three years into our marriage, my successful entrepreneur wife cheated. When I found out and asked for a divorce, she brought me to my parents’ house. She gathered my parents, my brother, my uncle, and his family, then calmly declared: “I cheated, and Adrian wants a divorce. You all need to talk some sense into him!” Her brazen shamelessness utterly shocked me. But in the next moment, my shock doubled. 1 My dad laughed, looking at my wife, Amy. “No, Amy, there’s no way you could cheat. You’re such a sweet person. No way, absolutely not!” He then turned to me, his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with you, as a husband, making jokes like that about your wife? Apologize to her at once, go home with her, and stop messing around!” My mom and brother chimed in, echoing his sentiments. “Exactly! Amy’s not that kind of person, how can you just make things up?” “Adrian, stop it. Apologize to Amy. This isn’t funny!” I was momentarily stunned. “I’m not messing around. This isn’t a joke.” My voice was tight with suppressed fury. “Amy Vance cheated. I have the chat logs, the pictures…” Amy had left her laptop open, logged into her messaging app. When I went to close it for her, I saw her messages. At the top of her chat list were two men. One called her “Wife,” the other called her “Baby.” Their conversations dated back half a year. The content was explicit, with many graphic photos. Most damning were the hotel records. Both men, mentioned in the chats, had met her no less than fifteen times each. As I scrolled through and saved them, I felt a wave of nausea, my hands shaking with rage. This was no joke! I was about to pull out my phone to prove it. But my uncle’s son, my cousin, stepped forward. 2 He grabbed my hand, fixing me with a steady gaze. After a brief pause, he snatched my phone away. “No… no, that’s impossible. You’re just talking nonsense!” He gave me a stern look. “Cousin, just focus on your marriage, okay? Don’t be like those overbearing men you see online!” My mind immediately filled with questions. Amy was the one who cheated, she was the one who wronged me. I was simply stating the facts, trying to prove them. Yet, my family members, one by one, were looking at me with cold eyes. Not only did they disbelieve me, they blamed me, and they stopped me? Why? Before I could even voice my confusion, Amy spoke. “You don’t have to defend me. I did cheat.” Her voice was calm, almost detached. “I brought Adrian here so you could talk some sense into him. He’s set on a divorce, but I don’t want one. I still have feelings for him.” A wave of nausea hit me. Forgetting my bewilderment, I immediately erupted. “Feelings? What a load of crap!” I snarled, my voice raw. “If you had feelings, would you have started cheating over half a year ago, with two men at the same time? If you had feelings, would you be playing the ‘new bride’ role out there every other day, calling them ‘husband’ with such glee?” I practically spat the words. “Cut the deep affection act, you despicable wretch. Aren’t you afraid of being struck by lightning, or hit by a car the moment you step outside?!” I cursed venomously. But midway through my tirade, my dad stepped forward. He raised his hand and smacked me hard on the shoulder. “Adrian Hayes! What’s wrong with you? Can’t you speak properly? You just started yelling curses and hexes!” He glared at me, his face red with anger. “You’re not acting like a man at all! Shut your mouth and stand back!” He roared, yanking me roughly behind him. Beside him, my mom and brother, in perfect sync with my dad, also tried to pull at me. A deeper surge of confusion washed over me. In a fit of anger, I broke free, glaring at them. “Are you all out of your minds?!” I demanded, my voice shaking. “I’m your son! I’m your family! You’re not helping me; instead, you’re helping this rotten person! You’re truly insane!” 3 My dad looked uneasy. He forced a placating smile at Amy, seemingly afraid of upsetting her. At the same time, he quickly raised a hand, trying to cover my mouth. I struggled, pushing him away. Seeing he couldn’t silence me, and my face etched with uncooperative fury, my dad grew more agitated. Grimly, he motioned to my mom, my brother, and my cousin. They grabbed me, dragging me forcefully aside. He then gave a meaningful look to my uncle and aunt, signaling them to lead Amy away. Once they were a safe distance, out of Amy’s earshot, they spoke through gritted teeth, their voices hushed. “Adrian Hayes! Don’t you dare make a scene here! If you upset your wife and mess up your brother’s job, I swear I won’t forgive you!” My cousin’s face was equally grim, his jaw clenched even tighter. “And my job too! Don’t you dare mess that up!” Looking at their angry faces, I finally understood their strange behavior. My cousin and my brother worked at the company Amy and I had built. They dared not offend Amy; they were afraid of losing their jobs. Amy brought me back here, confidently expecting them to talk sense into me, precisely because she knew this. A deep sadness welled up in my heart. Everyone was gathered. Amy announced her infidelity. Less than thirty seconds passed. My family members exchanged no words. But in that brief time, they instinctively thought of their jobs. Silently, implicitly, they chose to belittle me. To demand that I admit my mistake, that I swallow my pride and endure. Amy saw this, and she exploited it. Family. This was my family. To hell with family! My voice trembled. “For the sake of your jobs, you’re twisting black into white, ganging up on me like this? Do you even have a conscience anymore? Don’t forget, when you were unemployed, sitting at home, I was the one who brought you into the company!” 4 “I’m the one who gave you jobs, I’m the one you’re related to by blood, not that garbage woman!” The economy had been tough; my brother graduated straight into unemployment, couldn’t even get an interview. My cousin was laid off when his company downsized, and he was driven to despair sending out resumes. At the time, Amy and I had successfully started our own company. We had opened it, even built a small factory. We happened to need manpower, and my brother and cousin’s specializations fit, so I brought them into the company. What was originally a good deed had now become a knife aimed at me! I spoke faster, growing more and more furious, eventually almost roaring the words. But instead of feeling even an ounce of wrongdoing, they merely sneered at me. “You brought us into the company, and that’s your accomplishment? Aren’t you thinking a little too highly of yourself?” “The company belongs to Amy, the factory belongs to Amy, and Amy pays our salaries!” “The one who truly calls the shots, the one with the credit, is Amy, not you!” “Exactly. We’re already being generous by not calling you a sugar baby. You’re just her appendage, enjoying the good life thanks to her.” “Still haven’t figured yourself out, huh? Truly believe you’re something special now!” “Alright, stop losing your mind! Don’t you know what the economic climate is like right now? Don’t you know how hard it is to find a job?” “For your brother’s and cousin’s jobs, what’s wrong with you compromising a little? Besides, you’re not really suffering. She’s beautiful and she earns good money; you’re living a comfortable life!” “You’re a sugar baby and you’re still not satisfied? Always wanting more, wanting this and that. I don’t know how you were raised to be so greedy!” My voice suddenly grew hoarse, as I gritted my teeth and spoke. “I didn’t rely on her!” I insisted. “We built the company together! In fact, my contributions were even greater than hers…” My dad scoffed, cutting me off. “You’re my son. I know what you’re like. A good-for-nothing man, no talent whatsoever!” 5 Watching the sneer on my dad’s face, my heart clenched. Right out of college, I’d landed an eight-thousand-dollar salary during the worst economic downturn, all by my own ability. After that, it only climbed higher. Ten thousand, fifteen thousand, twenty thousand, thirty thousand… I spent a significant portion of that money on my family. My brother’s computer, phone, bicycle… My dad’s teapot, tea leaves, fishing rods… My mom’s necklace, gold bracelet, cosmetics… At that time, I didn’t even know Amy Vance! My abilities were evident to them! But now, I was talentless. I was a good-for-nothing, a sugar baby, dependent on a woman… My dad paused, then softened his tone. “Alright, alright, don’t be angry. Whether you love her or not, whether she cheated or not, it doesn’t matter. What matters is keeping your life together! She didn’t even try to hide it from you; she’s already been very good.” My dad nudged my cousin’s shoulder, and they exchanged a glance before my cousin left. My dad continued, “…You cannot get this divorce. And your brother’s and cousin’s jobs absolutely cannot be lost. Go back and sweet-talk your wife. Make her give you a son! That way, even if she goes out to ‘play’ again later, you can tie her down with the child, and you won’t have to worry about your life falling apart.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve already sent your cousin to bring her back. Just lower your head, admit your mistake, and we’ll consider this matter settled…” As he spoke, footsteps approached, and a smile spread across my dad’s face. He shifted his gaze, then pushed my back. “Amy, we’ve talked to him. He knows he was just confused for a moment. This divorce is off. Remember to live a good life from now on, okay?” My dad’s hand pressed harder into my back. He even winked at me, the meaning clear: What are you waiting for? Hurry up and bow your head, admit your mistake! 6 Amy stepped closer, nodded to my dad, and reached out to take my hand. “Alright, let’s go home. I’ll try to control myself…” I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, twisted away, and slapped my dad’s hand off me. Family? They didn’t deserve me. And that rotten woman? Even less so! No one could bully me! No one! As my dad stared at me in disbelief, I raised my hand and smacked Amy hard across the face. Crack! The crisp sound of the slap made both Amy and my dad freeze. Amy clutched her cheek, staring at me blankly. “You… you dared to hit me?” I didn’t answer, nor did I stop. I brought my knee up, delivering a vicious kick to Amy’s body. The Amy who had just questioned me let out a gasp of pain, immediately doubling over like a cooked shrimp, sent sprawling to the ground by the force of the kick. I then stomped my foot onto her face, causing blood to gush from her nose and mouth. I pressed down, grinding my heel into her face as she wailed, one hand clutching her face, the other her stomach. “Control yourself? You think you can control me?!” My voice was a low snarl. “Anyone who wrongs me, not one of them will get away with it!” I had barely finished speaking when my dad’s roar suddenly erupted. He lunged at me, grabbing my hair and yanking with all his might. “Ah! Adrian Hayes, you’re really asking for it! How dare you lay a hand on her, and with such brutal force…” My dad yelled, delivering a smack to my face. He’d always been a physically active man. Instantly, blood appeared on his rough, dry palm. He’d scratched my face. But perhaps caught up in the fury, I felt no pain. Yet, the blood on his fingertips and the coppery taste in my mouth told me it wasn’t a light blow. Without a moment’s hesitation, I twisted, raised my hand, and smacked my dad squarely across the face. 7 In my dad’s stunned expression, I grabbed his hair in turn. With a pull and a yank, I slammed his head against Amy’s. Thud! The sound echoed, and both of them tumbled to the ground, their faces contorted in agony. I watched them coldly. “Anyone who wrongs me, not one of them will get away with it!” My brother and mom were startled. Their steps, which had been moving forward, hesitated, then retreated. Beyond their fear, their faces were etched with anger. Glaring at me, my mom instinctively ordered my brother, “Call the police! Call the police!” The precinct was nearby; the officers arrived quickly. They surveyed my blood-streaked face, my dad’s swollen forehead, and Amy, whose forehead was swollen, her nose and mouth bleeding. An officer gestured. “Alright, everyone, let’s go down to the station!” My dad had recovered somewhat. One hand clutched his forehead, the other held back the officer. “You take this bastard, lock him up. My wife isn’t going! My wife needs to go to the hospital first…” The officer glanced at Amy, then grunted, “Alright.” He then surveyed the faces of everyone else, his gaze finally settling on me. “One man against a whole family, huh? What kind of person are you, with such nerve? Let’s go!” I followed the officer’s gaze, sweeping over the faces of my dad, my brother, my aunt and uncle, and my cousin. Every single one of them looked at me with seething resentment. No wonder the officer immediately recognized them as a family unit and saw me as the outsider. But… “I’m that man’s son. His biological son.” All the way there, my thoughts drifted. I remembered a colleague from a previous job. I recalled a conversation I’d had with him. He had just finished a phone call, and on the other end was his father.

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In the black market, I fell for twin male incubi but could afford only one. I chose the younger brother, who had the better build. He hated me—resisted in bed, kept running back to the market to complain to his twin. “Brother, I can’t stand her. She’s plain, poor, and life with her is misery.” His brother, collared and chained in a steel cage, would soothe him gently: “She is kind. She won’t hurt you. Go back—don’t worry her.” I stood listening silently. When my eyes met his gentle gaze, my heart jumped. I sold my house and bought the older brother too. We moved into a basement with one bedroom. The older brother, Caelus, offered to sleep in the closet. “Master, this is fine. I was only bought because of my brother.” I stopped him, pulled out a contract, and handed it to the one who despised me. “It’s crowded here,” I said. “Why don’t you leave? Then you won’t suffer with me anymore.” He stared, eyes slowly reddening. “You… you only want my brother now? Not me?” 1 The incubus I had taken in was disobedient. He had bitten me again. This morning, as I was getting ready, I saw the bite mark on my neck had turned a deep, angry purple. It hurt to the touch. I tried to tell myself it was nothing, that it would fade in a few days. But as I looked at my plain, ordinary face in the bathroom mirror, I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up. Kael, he despised me. He despised everything about me. My looks, my voice. Even the old house I lived in, he found it utterly repulsive. We had argued last night. In his rage, the truth had come out. “Seraphina,” he had spat, “you were the one who spent all your savings to buy me. I didn’t choose to come with you. If I had a choice, I would never have chosen you as my master, to be crammed into this shithole!” “So in the year you’ve been with me,” I had asked, a desperate hope clinging to my voice, “have you felt nothing for me at all?” “Nothing,” he had answered, his voice firm, his gaze sharp and unwavering, even as he was tied to the headboard. “Not a single thing.” The last sliver of hope I had been holding onto shattered. I splashed my face with water, took a deep breath, and wiped away the tears that threatened to fall. Then I took the foundation from the counter and carefully dabbed it over the mark on my neck. 2 Kael was still tied up in the bedroom. I had planned to untie him before I left for work. When I opened the door, he was curled up on the rug, his head down, long lashes trembling. He was probably pretending to be asleep. I knelt beside him and began to loosen the knot around his wrists. “Kael.” My voice was soft. He didn’t respond, his eyes still tightly shut. “I’m leaving for work. I’ll untie you, but can you promise me you’ll stay here and wait for me to come home?” “Heh. If you don’t want to untie me, just say so.” Kael finally opened his eyes, his expression impatient. I managed a weary smile and untied him. He seemed surprised, his sharp, almond-shaped eyes staring at me in disbelief. “You’re really letting me go? I didn’t promise to wait for you.” He used to run away all the time. But with his contract in my possession, he could never get far. It was just a hassle to track him down every time, which was why I had started tying him up. I nodded, too tired to argue. “I know. Just remember to take the keys.” 3 I had bought Kael at the black market last winter. There was no special reason. I just thought he was beautiful. Tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. A perfect body. At the time, I had also been interested in his brother, Caelus. They were twins, and they looked almost identical. The only difference was that Kael was perfectly healthy, while Caelus had a slight limp. But my savings were only enough for one of them. I had thought, an incubus is a companion for life, so I didn’t try to save a few bucks. I bought the most expensive one. But a year later, my quiet life was anything but happy. In fact, it was filled with more trouble than ever. Looking back, I regretted it. Would things have been different if I had chosen Caelus? But that shady shop had a strict no-returns policy. I sat at my desk, staring into space for a long time, then I checked my bank account on my phone. Only a few thousand left. I sighed. It was pointless to think about it. 4 “Hey, Sera, the boss is taking us out for dinner tonight. You in?” As the workday was ending, my colleague, Lena, came over and tapped me on the shoulder. I shook my head. She let out a knowing “oh.” “Right,” she said with a grin, “I forgot. You’ve got that handsome pet at home. He’s probably already made you dinner.” Kael, make me dinner? I’d be lucky if he hadn’t torn the place apart. I forced a smile, about to explain, but Lena was already off on another tangent. “It’s so great! Now I’m even more motivated to make money. I’m going to buy myself a beautiful man to take care of me, too.” I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more, just a word of caution. “When you do, make sure you buy from a reputable place that allows returns. Don’t ever go to the black market.” “Got it!” Usually, I was the first one out the door. But today, half an hour after closing time, I was still at my desk, tidying up, scrolling through my phone, checking the security camera feed from my apartment. Of course. Kael was gone again. Frustrated, I decided not to rush home. I walked down the street, turned into an alley, and after a few more turns, I found myself, almost unconsciously, back at the black market. 5 This place was a chaotic mix of the desperate and the depraved. It was filthy and disorganized. Small-time vendors selling beast-kin were everywhere. Some, sickly and weak, were crammed into small iron cages by the side of the road, their horns sawed in half. It was a pitiful sight. “Hey, miss! Take a look! A rare male deer-kin! Name your price!” I had only glanced at him for a second, but a burly merchant was already calling out to me. I was broke, and as much as my heart ached for the poor creature, I could do nothing but hurry on. Following the faint trail of memory, I found the shady shop from last year. It was still in business. The owner was dozing in a chair by the entrance and didn’t stir as I walked in. I slowed my steps and tiptoed to the back courtyard. Just as I stepped inside, I heard a familiar voice. “Brother, has anyone tried to buy you recently?” It was Kael. So this was where he ran off to. To see his brother. 6 I stayed hidden behind the door, listening. “A customer came last week. Looked at me twice, but he never paid. I’m a cripple. No one wants me.” “Brother, if it wasn’t for you saving me when we were kids, your leg wouldn’t have been injured by the traders. I was the one who was playing around and ran off. I’m the one who got you into this mess.” “Brother, I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay, Kael. It’s not your fault.” Caelus was locked in a large iron cage, a metal collar around his neck. He gripped the bars, and even though it was a struggle to breathe, he still managed a gentle, reassuring smile for his brother. “I’ve never blamed you. I just want you to be happy. You’re free now, not a piece of merchandise. Forget about the past.” Kael squatted outside the cage, his arms resting on his knees. He let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not really free. The woman who bought me is so paranoid I’ll run away, she’s always watching me.” Hearing him mention me, my hand clenched into a fist, my heart pounding in my chest. “She’s so annoying. I’d rather be here than with her.” Kael’s brow furrowed. “She’s not pretty, and she’s poor. The clothes she buys me are cheap rags. They’re so uncomfortable.” “It’s only been a year. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with her. It’s going to be miserable…” Before he could finish, Caelus cut him off. “It won’t be. It’s normal for things to be a little tight at the beginning. The woman who bought you, she seems like a kind person. She won’t mistreat you in the future.” “Kind? What’s kind about her? She ties me up all the time. Look, I still have marks on my wrists.” Kael pulled up his sleeve to show the faint red lines around his wrist. “I’ve had enough. You don’t know what my life is like. If I could, I’d trade places with you. You can deal with that ugly woman.” “She’s your master. It’s her right to discipline you. And she’s not ugly. Don’t talk nonsense.” “It’s the truth. I’m not talking nonsense.” 7 His words were like daggers, piercing my ears and lodging in my throat, a painful, bitter lump. I couldn’t listen anymore. I turned to leave. My foot hit an empty can, and it clattered across the pavement. Their heads snapped in my direction. Caelus saw me first. A small smile touched his lips, a gentle, almost submissive gesture. Kael’s face paled. He stood up, looking awkward and flustered. “You… what are you doing here?” I tried to keep my voice steady. “I came to take you home.” But before he could answer, I turned and fled. 8 “Hey, Seraphina.” Kael caught up to me, grabbing the corner of my shirt. “What’s the rush?” I ignored him, prying his fingers off my shirt and continuing to walk. But my mind was filled with the image of Caelus’s small, placating smile. He was different from Kael, after all. He had a small beauty mark under his left eye, and when he smiled, it would dance upwards. “Were you standing there the whole time?” “Did you hear what I said to my brother?” And Caelus’s leg… he wasn’t born with it. It was an injury he had gotten while saving his brother. My heart ached for him. He was so much more pitiful than Kael. “Hey, I’m talking to you! Are you deaf?” The man’s voice behind me rose in pitch, shattering my thoughts. I couldn’t help but frown. “Yes, I heard. I heard everything.” Kael’s breath hitched. A flicker of unease crossed his face, and his voice dropped. “I was telling the truth… you do tie me up all the time.” “Yes, it’s the truth. I’m ugly, I’m poor, I abuse you. In your eyes, I’m a monster.” For once, I didn’t argue. I just agreed with him. Kael fell silent. Maybe he was angry. He lowered his eyes and didn’t speak again. On the way home, I kept glancing up at the tall, young man beside me. He had handsome features, sharp and well-defined. Even among the incubi, a race known for their beauty, he was stunning. But the black hoodie he was wearing was cheap and worn, just like mine, pilling from too many washes. It was true. If he hadn’t been bought by a poor woman like me, his life would have been much better. If he resented me for it, then so be it. 9 Back at the old, dilapidated house, I didn’t tie Kael up as I usually did, or lecture him about running away. I just took a quick shower and locked myself in my bedroom. My mind was a mess. But not because of Kael. Knock, knock, knock. In the middle of the night, someone knocked on my door. “Seraphina, are you still awake?” It was Kael, his voice muffled by the door. “What is it?” “Open the door, and I’ll tell you.” I stayed in bed, my eyes closed. When I woke up again, a shadow was looming over me. Kael had found the spare key and let himself in. He was just standing there, by my bed, watching me. I don’t know how long he had been there. I sat up, pulling the covers with me, and huddled against the wall. “What do you want?” His throat moved. His lips parted. His tail twitched nervously behind him. “Um…” “I’m sorry.” The words came out in a rush, as if they were burning his tongue. I yawned and waved a hand. “It’s fine. I forgive you. Now get out.” He didn’t move. I patted the pillow beside me. “You want to sleep here?” For the past year, even though he hated physical contact with me, we had always slept in the same room. We had never slept apart, not even when we fought. Maybe my sudden coldness had thrown him off. As I said it, Kael lifted the corner of the covers and took off his pajama top. Then, a firm pressure on my waist. He wrapped himself around me, his tail pressing against me in a placating gesture. “I’m tired. Just lie still and sleep.” I shifted away from him. Kael immediately got annoyed. “Fine. It’s not like I wanted to touch you anyway.” I scooted closer to the edge of the bed, putting more distance between us. He got even more agitated. “And you’re so fake.” He tugged at the covers and turned his back to me. 10 On Saturday morning, I went to a real estate agency. The old house was in a good location. It was run-down, but it was convenient for commuting and close to a school. It was probably worth a lot of money now. Last year, my plan had been to use all my savings to buy the most beautiful incubus I could find, then sell the old house and get a smaller, nicer apartment. A comfortable life. But Kael was so disobedient, so restless, and I was so busy with work, that I had put it off. “Ms. Lin, your house is in a prime school district. We estimate it’s worth around six hundred thousand. Are you looking to sell quickly?” The agent greeted me with a warm smile. I shook my head. “I’m not in a hurry. I’m still thinking about it.” “Of course. Take your time. We’re always here if you need us.” I took the hot tea she offered and sat on a nearby bench. Just then, a young woman walked in, a handsome beast-kin boy trailing behind her. She was looking to rent. The woman had a loud, boisterous voice and was haggling with the agent. Her beast-kin companion stood quietly by her side, occasionally tugging on her sleeve and whispering. “Sister, the rent here is so expensive. Let’s not.” “The place we have now is fine, really. I’m strong. I can walk a little further after work. It’s good exercise.” He was so considerate. I was filled with a mixture of envy and a familiar, bitter ache. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Kael. [Hey, where are you? I’m hungry.] No greeting, no concern. Just a demand. [If you’re hungry, eat some ramen. I’m out taking care of something.] I had no expectations of him anymore. [That’s not the kind of hungry I mean… It’s a physical hunger. You ignored me last night! Did you forget?] [I’m really busy. Can’t you just hold on for a bit?] [Why should I have to hold on? What did you buy me for, then?] His tone was sharp and accusatory. I hesitated for a moment, then swiped to turn on “do not disturb.”

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I’m a coward, through and through, but the System tasked me with drugging my older brother. I didn’t have the guts. So instead, I handed him a glass of hot water. My brother took a sip, a flush creeping up his neck. “What did you put in this? It’s hot.” My knees went weak with fear. “Corbin, I swear, it’s just hot water.” At my words, he leaned in, pressing me against the wall. “Such a naughty girl,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Weren’t you supposed to drug me?” 1 I’m just a cannon fodder side character, but my brother, Corbin, is the main villain. He finally saw the female lead, Isabelle, when he showed up for my parent-teacher conference. Corbin narrowed his eyes in their direction, a predatory gleam he didn’t bother to hide. That’s when the System in my head finally came online. [Host, welcome. Your current mission is to eliminate the villain.] I nearly gasped out loud. “Are you insane?” I hissed under my breath. “Corbin could kill me with one finger.” As I argued with the System, I glanced at Corbin’s hand on my exam paper. His fingers were long and pale, tapping impatiently on the page. He turned his head and smiled at me. I immediately clamped my hand over my mouth, terrified he might have heard me. “What is it, brother?” He chuckled softly, and one of those elegant fingers pointed to a name I’d scribbled on my scratch paper. “Asher. Who’s that?” My heart stuttered. That was the male lead, a name the System had given me earlier. I’d just jotted it down without thinking. For some reason, even though Corbin was smiling, he didn’t look happy at all. I swallowed hard. “He’s our class president. Uh, he’s a nice guy.” My brother just nodded, saying nothing. The teacher announced that this was our last parent-teacher conference, with the college entrance exams just two weeks away. Corbin told me to study hard. Then his gaze drifted past me to Isabelle and Asher. “But it doesn’t matter if you do poorly,” he murmured, his voice dropping low. “I’ll just send you abroad.” His warm breath ghosted over my skin, and a fresh wave of fear washed over me. Corbin never spoke to me this closely. And that wasn’t the reassuring tone of a brother offering a safety net. It was a warning. If I didn’t study, he would send me away. Cut me off from everyone here. 2 My legs felt like jelly. The System had to mentally prop me up. [What are you scared of? You’re a cannon fodder character with the all-powerful System backing you up!] The moment it finished, Corbin turned back, his gaze sharp. “Your scratch paper. I’m confiscating it.” Under his direct, unnerving stare, both the System and I felt our courage crumble. [Why do I get the feeling he can see right through us?] the System muttered. Only when Corbin was a good distance away did the System find its voice again. [How dare he snatch our girl’s scratch paper! That villain! He’s got what’s coming to him! Pull yourself together, Lily! From this day forward, he’s going to start targeting the main characters.] I wiped a bead of cold sweat from my brow. I’d seen what Corbin was capable of. Once, I’d made plans with a friend to go on a trip to the coast. Corbin had forbidden it. I went anyway, sneaking out behind his back. But the moment I stepped onto the deck of the boat, he was there, one step behind me. In the end, not a single captain in the harbor would take me. I trailed home behind him like a scolded puppy. He didn’t yell. He even bought me a new dress and asked what I wanted for dinner. But the next day, he had me transferred to a new school. I always thought it was because our adoptive parents had been so harsh on him growing up, giving him a strange need to control me. If he’d set his sights on Isabelle today, I couldn’t imagine what he would do to get her. The System, sensing my thoughts, also broke into a sweat. [Come on, Lils, chin up!] It patted my shoulder. [Ace this mission, and I’ll get you a first-class, happily-ever-after ending.] I’d have to be alive to enjoy it. After the transfer, Corbin wouldn’t let me live in the dorms. But the suburban mansion was too far from the new school. His perfect solution? He bought me an apartment right next to campus. Bodyguards followed me home after class every day. A hot meal was always waiting for me. Each time I walked through the door, my heart pounded. The first thing I always did was check for a pair of men’s dress shoes by the entrance. Today, there were none. The System and I both breathed a massive sigh of relief. I hummed a little tune as I ate. “Honestly,” I chattered to the System, “I’m just a throwaway character. How am I supposed to eliminate him?” “You’re so tough, why don’t you do it yourself? Admit it, System, you’re scared of him too, aren’t you?” “It’s not that I’m not trying. I’m just… terrified.” [Once your exams are over,] the System declared, [I have a death-and-destruction trio planned for him.] It said it with such grim, villainous certainty that I dropped my chicken wing. I turned to grab a napkin and found myself staring into a pair of dark, bottomless eyes. 3 Corbin had just stepped out of the bathroom, a single towel knotted around his waist. His torso was lean and powerful, and droplets of water clung to his skin. Like the chicken wing, I felt my world spin. My mouth opened and closed, but I couldn’t figure out how to explain my nonsensical rambling. In the end, Corbin spoke first. “Is the chicken good?” I nodded dumbly. He walked past me, grabbed his phone from the counter, and headed upstairs. “Don’t eat the one that fell on the floor,” was all he said. [Aaaaaah!] the System shrieked in my ear. [How is he so hot even when he’s half-naked?!] I was a complete mess, my nerves shot. [No, really, I don’t want him to die! This villain’s character design is my absolute favorite.] The System was still swooning. It poked me mentally. [Hello? Earth to Lily? Did he scare you speechless?] I burst into tears, clinging to the System for comfort. “Boohoo, do you think he heard me?” The System rubbed its hands together. [Probably not. Besides, all of Corbin’s attention is on the female lead right now. He won’t notice a minor character like you.] After the exams, Isabelle planned to get a part-time job. Coincidentally, the hotel she applied to was owned by Corbin’s company. The System told me to follow her, observe Corbin’s every move, and stop him from carrying out his “evil plans.” What? Me? Who was I? I was supposed to spy on Corbin? And stop him? The System explained that in the original plot, Corbin gets drunk and drags Isabelle into a hotel room. What a trashy, tasteless plot point. Isabelle got the front desk job, while I was still at home doing nothing. Finally, after the System threatened to self-destruct, I went to Corbin. “Brother, I want to get a job.” Corbin was reading. He set down his gold-rimmed glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s wrong? Is your allowance not enough?” His features were sharp, and when he looked at me, I couldn’t tell if it was me or the System that was shaking more. 4 The System, which had been cheering me on moments ago, had already logged off in a panic. “Brother,” I stammered, “I want to gain some experience. I could even work at one of your companies. Please, brother.” I felt like I was about to drop to my knees. Corbin didn’t speak. He just lifted his gaze and watched me, a lazy, calculating look in his eyes. I couldn’t meet his stare, so I just bowed my head and repeated, “Please, brother.” The System popped back up. [I think the villain likes it when you call him ‘brother.’ Try it a few more times, maybe he’ll agree.] I bit my lip and forced myself to look him in the eye. “Can I? Corbin… brother.” A sudden cough escaped him, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Finally, he grunted a quiet “mm.” Back in my room, the System and I clung to each other for support. We both agreed that the look in Corbin’s eyes could have devoured a person whole. Silent, direct, and unnervingly dark. In the end, Corbin arranged a position for me as an assistant lobby manager at the hotel. Isabelle was working the front desk. I felt a little awkward about my cushy job, so I often helped out at the desk, always on high alert for the moment Corbin would appear and drag someone away. That plot point was just so awful. But to be fair, Corbin really was going after the male lead’s family business. He’d been swamped lately. The recent harbor acquisition that was all over the news was a power struggle between him and Asher’s family. Isabelle, meanwhile, was living her peaceful life at the front desk. Both Corbin and I were so busy that we hadn’t seen each other in two weeks. Today was the weekend, and I was off. But Isabelle had to work. I was sound asleep when Asher called me. It was Isabelle’s birthday. He wanted to surprise her. And he wanted me to cover her shift? I almost laughed in his face. I told him no. But the System kicked me out of bed, insisting that today was a crucial plot point. I was so done. Did the main characters’ key moments always have to ruin our sleep? And to top it off, as fate would have it, my birthday was the same day as hers. 5 Fine, fine. What’s a cannon fodder’s birthday compared to the female lead’s? I propped my chin in my hand, covering Isabelle’s shift late into the night. Seriously, I was the assistant manager. The front door slid open, and a tall, slender figure cast a long shadow. Without looking up, I called out in a tired voice, “Welcome, how can I help you?” A smirk played on Corbin’s lips. “I need a room.” Huh? After a moment of silence, the long-unseen Corbin repeated, his voice serious this time. “I said, I need a room.” But I could hear the rasp in his voice, the tell-tale sign of too much alcohol. I tilted my head and looked behind him. No one. I handed him the keycard and said softly, “Brother? Did you come all this way just to sleep?” He ignored me. His eyes were hazy, his breathing shallow, and he swayed as he walked. I escorted him to the elevator. He stood silently behind me, his gaze fixed on me. Like a predator watching its prey. The System wasn’t with me. It had gone off to “join the fun,” to watch Asher’s big confession to Isabelle. Great. My cowardly advisor was gone. At the hotel room door, I held out my hand. “Mr. Reed, this is your room. I’ll just be—” Before I could finish, a wave of warmth washed over the back of my neck. Corbin yanked me into the room. His large hand closed around my throat. I was scared to death. “Brother! It’s me,” I squeaked. He just shook his head. “That’s the wrong name for me. We’re not brother and sister.” While I was still processing that, he fastened a magnificent necklace around my neck. “I gave you a gift,” he said, his voice deep. “What are you going to give me in return?” Corbin’s dark eyes swept over the desk: the bottled water, the tea bags, and the condoms. It suddenly hit me. This matched the plot the System had told me about. Corbin had mistaken me for Isabelle. His intense presence was overwhelming, our faces so close I could feel his breath on my lips. “Brother!” I yelped in terror. “I’m Lily! Don’t do anything stupid! “You’ve got the wrong person!” 6 Corbin blinked, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. Then he smiled. “If you’re not Lily, then who are you? I’m thirsty. Be a good girl and make your brother a cup of tea.” He loosened his tie, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he glanced at me one last time before sauntering toward the bed. So that’s what he wanted. Tea. I was a horrible person. How could I have thought… that? My face burned. I risked a peek at Corbin. And caught him just as he was shrugging into a silk robe. The System had been right. This character design was a masterpiece. The most skilled sculptor must have spent a lifetime carving the exquisite lines of his body, a perfect blend of beauty and raw, worldly desire. As if sensing my gaze, Corbin leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. He raised an eyebrow. “Do you like what you see?” The alcohol seemed to have softened his sharp edges, replacing them with something much harder to define. I stammered, “Mr. Reed, your tea is ready.” Corbin took the cup and made a “tsk” sound. “What’s wrong?” I asked timidly. “Is it too hot?” He grunted. “This doesn’t make sense.” I was lost. “What doesn’t make sense?” Corbin: “Why is it that I came all this way to celebrate Miss Lily’s birthday, and she won’t even call me ‘brother’ once?” He came to celebrate my birthday? Not for Isabelle? Or did he come for Isabelle, find her gone, and decide to celebrate with me instead? My face, betraying me, flushed again. I mumbled a quiet “brother.” Corbin’s smile widened, his voice a husky, intimate drawl. “Good girl.” For a moment, I thought, maybe a person like this wasn’t the irredeemable villain the System made him out to be. Just then, the System’s voice shrieked in my ear. [Aaaaaah! Corbin killed someone!]

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Nathan Lynch fell in love with a scholarship student. Someone even more broken, more pitiful, than I had been. And the love he gave her was grander, more dazzling, than anything he had ever given me. So I gave birth to our child, took enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life, and walked away. Seven years later. A small boy, caked in mud and with a bloody scratch on his cheek, knocked on my door. “They said I’m a bastard,” he whispered. “Can you tell them I’m not?” 1 Just one look. That’s all it took to recognize him as my son, mine and Nathan’s. His face was a perfect, sculpted blend of our features. Seven years. It had been exactly seven years since I had given birth to him, taken the money, and left. We should have been strangers. I knelt to his level. “Do you know who I am?” He nodded slightly, his voice as soft as a whisper. “Mom.” I froze. Nathan had actually told him about me? After a moment of silence, I stood up. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that.” I had no interest in helping a stranger prove he wasn’t a bastard. He looked at me, no tears, no tantrums. He just nodded again, his small fists clenching the hem of his shirt. I closed the door. Through the security camera, I saw him curl into a ball in the corner of the hallway, hugging his knees. He looked so small, like a crumpled-up piece of paper. Footsteps echoed down the hall. He shrank further into the corner, burying his face in his knees. I stared at the screen for three minutes. Then I opened the door. “Come in.” 2 I didn’t have any children’s clothes. After I washed him up, I wrapped him in a blanket and set him on the sofa. I placed a pink cartoon band-aid over the scratch on his clean face. “Elliot.” I had learned his name while I was bathing him. “How did you get hurt?” He looked down. “They said I don’t have a mom. That I’m a bastard. I got angry, so I fought them.” “You lost?” He nodded. Of course, he lost. That’s why he had come crying to me. “When did you find out where I live?” “A long time ago,” he mumbled. “But Dad told me not to come find you.” The Lynch family had connections all over the city. Finding my address would have been easy. But Nathan, at least, had the decency to know he shouldn’t disturb me. I gave a noncommittal “hmm.” “He was right. You shouldn’t have come.” His head snapped up, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Are you going to send me away?” I nodded and picked up my phone. “Yes. Call your father. Tell him to come get you.” Elliot didn’t say anything. He just buried his head in the blanket. I poked his shoulder. “Hey.” He didn’t move. I poked him again. Still nothing. That stubborn streak… he got that from me. I dialed the number I had tried so hard to forget. Seven years, eleven digits, and I hadn’t forgotten a single one. Ring… Ring… Ring… I tried three times. No answer. Elliot lifted his head, his voice muffled. “Dad’s sick right now. A lot of doctors tied him up. They’re giving him shots and medicine. He can’t answer the phone.” I paused. “Sick?” The moment the word left my lips, I felt like a fool for prying. What did I care if Nathan Lynch was sick? The boy nodded. “Dad gets sick a lot. He gets really scary.” “Then what about your mother? Have her come get you.” “You are my mother.” “You know who I’m talking about,” I said, exasperated. He looked down again. “Dad won’t let me call her Mom.” I frowned. What was Nathan playing at? If he had married Amelia, why wouldn’t he let Elliot call her Mom? And why would he let Elliot come looking for me? Just then, a loud rumbling sound broke the silence. Elliot was hungry. I sighed and went to the kitchen. 3 I had shrimp and beef from yesterday’s grocery run. I quickly threw together a couple of simple dishes and set them on the table. The meal was quiet. I couldn’t help myself. I placed a piece of meat on his plate. “Eat up. It’ll help you grow.” He was seven, but he was small for his age. Was it because I had given birth to him prematurely? Was that why he was so frail? When it was time for bed, he just stood there, staring at me with those big, hopeful eyes. I sighed and pulled back a corner of the covers. He scrambled in, whispering, “Thanks, Mom.” I let out another sigh. I was probably becoming desensitized to the word “Mom.” Whatever. If the kid wanted to call me that, let him. “Mom, I’m scared of the dark. When it gets dark, Dad changes.” I held him close. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” Soon, his breathing evened out. Kids fall asleep so quickly, like flipping a switch. But I couldn’t sleep. Suddenly, there was this small, milk-scented child in my bed, a child who shared my blood. My mind was a chaotic mess. Time ticked by. Just as I was about to drift off, I heard a choked sob. It was Elliot. Tears were streaming down his face. “Dad… I’ll remember Mom… I won’t forget her…” “Don’t cry, Dad… I can remember Mom…” He hiccupped a few more times, then snuggled closer and fell back asleep. I stared at the ceiling, wide awake for the rest of the night. 4 The next morning, I was making breakfast with dark circles under my eyes. His sleepy murmurs from the night before echoed in my head. Nathan crying? Telling him to remember me? What did it all mean? The bowl in my hand slipped and shattered on the floor. I quickly knelt to pick up the pieces, and a sharp edge sliced my finger. Blood welled up. “Mom, you need a band-aid.” A small, sweet voice piped up. Before I could react, a pink cartoon band-aid was pressed over the cut. It was the one from his face yesterday. I looked at the band-aid, then at him. He was carefully smoothing it down, making sure every edge was secure. A strange feeling washed over me, a bittersweet ache I couldn’t name. After breakfast, I went to the convenience store downstairs and bought him a new set of clothes. Once he was dressed, he stood by the door, as if he knew what was coming. “Let’s go. I’m taking you home.” He froze, then latched onto the doorframe with all his might. “I don’t want to go back.” “If I don’t take you back soon and they call the police, I’ll be charged with kidnapping.” “They won’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Dad’s sick. Everyone’s too busy with him to care about me.” “That doesn’t matter. You’re going.” I reached for him, but he shrank back. “Elliot.” I was starting to get angry. Why would he want to stay with me when he had the Lynch family to go back to? Did he think they would mistreat him? His small hands were still clamped onto the doorframe, his knuckles white. Looking at him, I was suddenly reminded of myself, seven years ago. I had stood at the entrance to the Lynch mansion just like this, clinging to the doorframe, not wanting to go in. Not wanting to see Nathan and Amelia together. But in the end, I went in. Because it was the only home I had. 5 The route was still so clear in my mind. It didn’t take long to drive to the Lynch estate. Coincidentally, as I was dropping Elliot off, the whole family was in a frenzy, searching for him. And leading the charge were Nathan and Amelia. I hadn’t seen them in seven years. Nathan looked… haggard. Was it because of his illness? Amelia saw Elliot and rushed forward, throwing her arms around him. “Elliot, where have you been? Mommy was so worried!” Elliot pushed her away. “You’re not my mom.” Amelia froze. She looked up, her gaze shifting past Elliot to me. A flicker of hatred crossed her eyes. She stood up, her face transformed into a mask of polite cordiality. “Jessica. It’s been a long time. How have you been?” I didn’t answer. I had always treated her as if she were invisible. My silence seemed to infuriate Nathan. He stepped forward, placing himself between me and Amelia. “Please, show my wife some respect.” I suddenly felt a tightness in my chest. It was just like before. I was five months pregnant with Elliot. He had taken Amelia’s hand and said to me, “I’m sorry. This is my wife.” When I had tried to slap her, he had stopped me, using those exact same words. “Please, show my wife some respect.” Seven years, and not a single word had changed. I couldn’t be bothered with Nathan. My eyes went past him to Elliot. I gave him a little wave. “Bye-bye.” I turned to leave. A hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. It was Nathan. “You’re…” He frowned, as if trying to place me. “You look so familiar.” I almost laughed. How convenient. He was a very important person with a very short memory. Seven years, and he had forgotten me completely? I pulled my hand away. My sleeve slid up, revealing a small section of my forearm. It was covered in a dense network of scars. I froze. “Honey.” Amelia came over and took Nathan’s arm. “Let’s go check on Elliot.” She pulled him away. After a few steps, he glanced back at me. I stood there, watching them disappear through the door. 6 My mind was still a mess as I left the gated community. I felt like something significant had happened in those seven years. “Jessica?” A cheerful voice called my name. I turned to see a familiar face. Maya. We had become friends when I was still Mrs. Lynch, one of the few genuine friendships I had made in that circle of wealthy wives. “What are you doing here? I thought you would never…” She trailed off, but I knew what she meant. If it hadn’t been for Elliot, I probably would have never set foot in this place again. I forced a smile. “Just passing through.” “Perfect timing. Come over for some tea. We need to catch up.” 7 Back in my own apartment, I stood in the entryway, not turning on the lights. My head was spinning. Maya’s words replayed in my mind, overlapping with Elliot’s. It seemed Nathan really was sick. Ever since I left. He had started drinking heavily, trying to drink himself to death. When he was drunk, he would lock himself in a room and smash things. Once, he nearly died from alcohol poisoning. An ambulance had to be called. After that, the Lynch family, fearing gossip, had a full set of medical equipment installed in the house and hired a private doctor to be on call 24/7. But how could something like that be kept a secret? It had become an open secret in the community. Everyone knew what it meant when an ambulance pulled up to the Lynch mansion. So everyone assumed that Nathan didn’t love Amelia at all. But during the day, they were as affectionate as ever. When the other wives talked about Amelia, it was always with a tone of contempt. “She’s poor and has no skills. I don’t know what Nathan sees in her.” “Do you think he has some kind of charity complex? He only seems to go for poor girls.” When I was with Nathan, I had been a scholarship student, too. Many people had mocked him behind his back for his “charity case.” But I had proven them all wrong. I had transformed myself from a poor student into a woman worthy of the Lynch name. Amelia, it seemed, lacked that ability. But love is irrational. I could be the better woman, but I wasn’t Amelia. And that was all that mattered. I shook my head, trying to clear it. What did I care if Nathan was sick? If he was unhappy, I should be happy. 8 After that, my life returned to its usual quiet rhythm. But sometimes, when I saw children playing in the park, I would get an urge. I wanted to go up to them and ask, “Have you ever bullied a boy named Elliot Lynch? Have you ever called him a bastard with no mom?” Elliot’s visit had been like a pebble tossed into a still lake, creating a few ripples that quickly faded. I thought that was the end of it. Until one night. My phone rang. An unknown number. I answered. “Mom.” It was Elliot’s voice. Young, and choked with tears. “Mom, come quick! Dad’s sick again!” A loud crash echoed through the phone, like something had been smashed. Then, a cacophony of voices, shouting and crying. My body moved before my brain could catch up. I grabbed my car keys and ran out the door. When I reached the Lynch mansion, it was lit up like a Christmas tree. The neighboring houses were also lit, with shadowy figures visible in the windows, watching the commotion. Elliot was already waiting for me at the gate. With him there, the security guards didn’t dare stop me. I followed him through the grand entryway and into the elevator. The elevator reached the third floor and the doors slid open. A vase came flying straight at us. I instinctively pulled Elliot behind me and dodged. The vase smashed against the elevator door, shattering into a thousand pieces. The living room was in ruins. Nathan stood in the center of the chaos. His eyes held a ferocity I had never seen before. Amelia was huddled in a corner, her face streaked with tears. “You drugged me!” Nathan roared, pointing at her, his voice hoarse. “Who are you? Why are you torturing me?!” “Why did you tear me and Jessica apart?!” I was completely stunned. But Elliot, he let go of my hand and, trembling, walked over to Nathan, taking his hand. “Dad.” His voice shook, but he tried to keep it steady. “Dad, I brought Mom back.” “See? I didn’t forget what she looks like.” Nathan looked down at him. The fierce look in his eyes softened. He slowly looked up at me. The madness in his eyes faded, replaced by confusion, by a desperate struggle to recognize me. Then, a flicker of light. “Jessica…” He staggered toward me, not even noticing the broken glass he was stepping on. “Jessica, I don’t want to forget you.” “Don’t go.” I was frozen, my mind still reeling. Before he could finish, a sound, half-laugh, half-sob, echoed through the room. Amelia, still in the corner, her face a mess of tears, was staring at Nathan. “Why?” Her voice was raw, as if it took all her strength to speak. “Why do I have the System, and I still can’t make you love me?” “You torture yourself, you bring yourself to the brink of death, just to break free from its control.” “I’ve tried so hard! I’ve tried everything!” She suddenly started laughing, tears streaming down her face. “Why can’t I have the one thing I want?!” “Why?!”

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I was out shopping for shoes with my best friends. “You know that rumor about… well-endowed guys?” “You mean, like, eight inches?” “Who could even handle that!” I was bent over, fumbling with the strap of a high heel, only half-listening. “Definitely not me,” I chimed in. “Three inches is my absolute max. Usually, one to two is perfect.” My friends went dead silent. My boyfriend, who had apparently walked up behind me, was also silent. What? Is it embarrassing that I can’t walk in stilettos? 1. It was the weekend, and I’d dragged my two best friends, Sarah and Beth, to the mall to hunt for clothes. We were in the middle of trying on heels when their conversation drifted over to me. “You know that thing they say about some guys?” “Of course!” “Is it true? Like, eight inches?” “Totally. I heard it can be as long as your forearm!” “Damn. Who could possibly handle that!” I was bent over, trying to buckle a delicate strap, only catching bits and pieces. I added my two cents without thinking. “No one, right? Three inches is my absolute max. Usually, one to two is perfect for me.” The two of them suddenly stopped talking. I looked up, confused. “What’s wrong?” They exchanged a look. “Joey, are you serious?” Sarah asked. “Yeah.” I’ve barely worn heels my whole life. The super-high ones are a total non-starter. They stared at me in disbelief. “Uh, honey, I think you misheard,” Beth said, leaning in. “We’re talking about that.” “What ‘that’?” “You know,” she waggled her eyebrows, “the other kind of inches.” I nodded. “Right. So am I.” Heel inches. What else would I be talking about? They just gaped at me. “Your standards are… remarkably low,” Sarah finally managed. It’s just a pair of shoes. Why do they have to be so judgy? Remembering some of the hideous styles that used to be popular, I kept complaining. “And I absolutely hate those super thick, chunky ones. They’re just so ugly.” A blush crept up both of their necks. “Well, ugly or not, they all kind of feel the same, right?” “Yeah,” Beth giggled. “As long as it gets the job done, who cares what it looks like?” I shook my head vehemently. “No way. It has to look good and feel good!” They both froze. “Hold on. How good can a one-inch-er possibly look? Or feel?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What do you mean? A nice, slender one in a pale pink can be gorgeous. And it’s practical and comfortable.” “Forget it,” Sarah sighed dramatically. “There’s no explaining good taste to you.” Their expressions were a colorful mix of pity and confusion. I was about to laugh at them when I caught a reflection in the mirror. My boyfriend, Liam, was standing right behind me. His face was a thundercloud. What’s his problem? Is being unable to wear high heels really that big of a deal? 2. Liam had come to pick me up. Today was our third anniversary. We had plans to see a movie and… well, we’d booked a hotel room. After all this time, our physical contact had been limited to holding hands, hugging, and kissing. I hadn’t gotten much further than that. I was first drawn to him because he was such a gentleman. In a world of greasy pick-up artists, he was a breath of fresh, clean air. I just hadn’t realized he was too much of a gentleman. Three years, and I was still a virgin in this relationship, left to drool over his rock-hard abs from a distance. It was, frankly, boring. I’d almost broken up with him over it a while back. Luckily, he’d pulled back from the brink at the last second, saw the error of his ways, and promised we could finally move on to the next level. After saying goodbye to my friends, I’d lost all interest in shopping. I grabbed Liam’s hand to lead him out of the store, but he didn’t budge. His expression was dead serious. “Joey, do you really not like anything in the six or seven-inch range?” Do guys care about women’s shoes now? “Yeah, I don’t. Not every girl does. It’s normal.” “But why not?” “It’s uncomfortable.” “You’ve tried it?” “Of course I have. I’ve tried four-inch, even five-inch ones. It’s absolute torture. My limit is my limit. One inch is the most comfortable.” His face instantly darkened. His voice went cold. “When was this?” What was happening? Why did he care so much about this? I thought for a moment. “I don’t know, since I started working, I guess. I’ve tried them on and off.” “In the three years we’ve been together, you’ve tried them?” “Yes.” His fists clenched at his sides. He looked at me with a mixture of disbelief and pure, unadulterated rage. “Joey, how could you… behind my back? How could you do this to me?” Wait, what? I can’t even try on high heels by myself now? What century is this? Do I need his permission to decide how high my shoes are? Now I was getting angry, too. “What I do is my own business!” I retorted. “This is who I am! If you can’t handle it, then maybe we shouldn’t be together!” Talk about ruining the mood. My anniversary excitement had completely evaporated. I stormed off, leaving him there. He just stood, frozen, his shoulders slumped as if he’d been dealt a fatal blow. Was he for real? I wasn’t being unreasonable, was I? This was clearly his problem. He needed to take a long, hard look at himself. 3. What a boring, rigid man! Maybe breaking up was for the best. This was all so pointless. The next morning, I woke up to a barrage of missed calls and over a hundred texts from Liam. [Why aren’t you answering?] [You’ve decided to break up with me, haven’t you?] [You’re the one who did something wrong, so why am I the one being punished?] [Do you have any idea how much this hurts?] [Does this kind of thing mean nothing to you?] [How can you talk about it so casually?] [Why would you do this to me?] [You know how much I love you.] [Open the door.] [I’m outside your apartment.] [Okay, you’re right. It was my fault.] [Just please don’t ignore me.] [I’m begging you.] [Please open the door.] [I’m losing my mind. The pain is unbearable.] [I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you.] [I’m the one who’s wrong. It’s my fault for being so boring.] [I asked around. Everyone said I’m too old-fashioned and conservative, and that’s why you did it.] [I don’t blame you anymore. I don’t have the right to.] [I’m useless.] [I’ve thought it over. From now on, you can do whatever you want. Try as many as you want. I can accept it.] [Just please… don’t leave me.] … Well, he certainly processed that quickly. And his apology seemed sincere. Good. I was satisfied. Alright, we don’t have to break up. But wait, was he still outside my door? I opened it and gasped. Liam was sitting slumped against the wall, reeking of alcohol. The floor around him was littered with empty beer cans. At the sound of the door, he slowly lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he was about to shatter into a million pieces. “Joey… you’re finally talking to me?” Oh my god. Had he been sitting there all night? I quickly pulled him to his feet. He was limp, practically hanging off me, but his hands pressed me tightly against his chest. His voice was a raw, broken whisper. “Joey… do you not love me anymore?” I’d never seen him this vulnerable. My heart felt like a fistful of wet cotton—heavy and suffocating. Damn it. Why did I fight with him over something so stupid? Look what it did to him. And we’d wasted a perfectly good anniversary night. A wave of guilt washed over me. I hugged him back. “I still love you. Don’t think crazy things.” “Are you still mad at me?” “No, I’m not mad.” He held me even tighter, his voice catching. “So we’re not breaking up?” A man who was normally so cool and composed, now begging me so humbly… who could resist that? My heart melted into a puddle. I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Right. We’re not breaking up.” He let out a shaky breath, then asked meekly, “Do I smell awful? Can I… use your shower?” Seeing him like a little broken puppy, I wanted to eat him alive. And he was asking permission? He could join me in the shower if he wanted. 4. By the time he came out of the shower, I had a bowl of noodles ready for him. They must have been terrible, because he just kept his head down and ate in silence. “Is it that bad?” He shook his head, a weak smile twitching at his lips. “No. I was just thinking… I didn’t realize you were so experienced.” He must be talking about the high heels again. I waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that’s nothing. A few pairs here and there, it’s no big deal.” His smile became a little stiffer. “And the experience was… good?” “Some were okay, some not so much. If they’re too hard, they really hurt. But I think the most important thing is the size.” His knuckles whitened around his chopsticks. His voice dropped. “So I guess you wouldn’t like seven inches, then.” “Definitely not. That goes without saying. I’d run a mile at the sight of one. Terrifying.” His face went pale, and he ducked his head even lower. Is he okay? Maybe he’s hungover. I told him to go rest in my bedroom for a bit. After I cleaned up, I climbed into bed and snuggled into his arms, and we watched TV together. I loved these quiet moments with him. I could turn my head and see the sharp line of his jaw, his sexy Adam’s apple. So handsome. My heart began to flutter. I couldn’t help myself. I pulled his head down and kissed him. His eyelashes trembled, and he slowly closed his eyes. The kiss started with me, but he quickly took control. My body grew softer, his breathing more ragged. I suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen last night, and my mind started to wander. My fingers slyly slipped under his shirt, squeezing his firm abs. “Babe,” I whispered, “want to try now?” His whole body went rigid. He pushed me away in a panic. “I—I just remembered I have a work report I haven’t finished. I should go.” The click of the front door closing echoed in the room. It took me a second to process. Did I just get rejected? What the hell? He was clearly turned on. He was totally into it. This made no sense. Was he worried he wouldn’t be at his best after not sleeping all night? Okay, fine. I can understand that. A man’s pride and all. I was just being impatient. There’s always next time. 5. We both got busy with work after that. Soon, it was the holidays. We’d already agreed to spend it with my family so he could finally meet my parents and relatives. Everyone loved him. They thought he was a great guy—good character, good personality, a successful career. They felt I was in good hands. So, a few days into the new year, my parents left for a three-day trip to visit relatives in the countryside, leaving the two of us alone in the house. This was a golden opportunity. It had been a while since Liam and I had done more than a quick kiss or hug. With the house to ourselves, I made a point of crawling into his bed every night. The excuse was to watch movies and play games together. The reality was that I had ulterior motives. I would deliberately press against him, trying to make him lose control. But he would just grit his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead, and refuse to cross the line. I had no idea what he was holding out for. He’d already promised we could take the next step! On the last night before my parents were due back, I decided I couldn’t wait any longer. I opened a bottle of my dad’s special herbal liqueur and challenged Liam to a drinking contest. My real goal was to get him drunk. The problem was, he didn’t get drunk. I did. After just two glasses, I was dizzy and talking nonsense. He ended up carrying me to bed. The second my head hit the pillow, I was out. My heart was full of regret, but I was too far gone to get up. I had a series of wild dreams. In them, Liam and I were tangled together, lost in passion. He held my head in his hands, kissing me so hard I couldn’t breathe. My lips were sealed, my lungs burning for air. It felt so real that it was like I actually couldn’t breathe. I groggily opened my eyes and was instantly wide awake. Liam was actually kissing me. His body was scorching hot. His warm breath traveled from my lips down to my neck. His hand trembled as it traced the skin at my waist, his touch a mixture of restraint and desperation. It suddenly clicked. The drink we had tonight… it was my dad’s “special” liqueur. Was it… an aphrodisiac? This was the first time I’d ever seen him this out of control. A thrill shot through me. I dropped the act. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, my body responding to his. He froze. His dark eyes locked onto mine, swirling with raw desire. I gently kissed his eyelids. “Liam…” That was all it took. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He captured my head again and crushed his lips to mine. Tangled breaths, burning skin, two people lost in chaos. As we kissed, my hand started to explore downwards.

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The first thing I saw when my eyes opened was my mother, quietly placing me in the incubator next to my own. “Mom, hurry up before someone sees,” my brother whispered from the doorway. “I only want Ruby to be my sister.” My mother nodded, then lifted the other baby from the incubator. As she turned to leave, her eyes met mine. I stared back at her, silent. I didn’t cry. I just watched. A flicker of guilt crossed her face before her expression hardened. “Grace,” she whispered, turning her back on me. “Don’t you dare blame me for this.” “This time,” she said, her voice a strained whisper, “we can’t lose Ruby.” In that instant, I understood. I wasn’t the only one who had been reborn. In my last life, I was lost to them for nineteen years. When they finally found me, they welcomed me home, their hearts heavy with guilt. But on my very first birthday with them, the girl they’d raised as their daughter, Ruby, slit her wrists. This time, they chose Ruby. And they threw me away. 1 I’d been back in this world for a few hours. When I first awoke, a nurse was getting ready to give me my first bath. In my previous life, it was a moment of careless haste from that same nurse—mixing up my hospital wristband with another baby’s, a girl named Grace—that had cost me everything. My name, my family, my entire life. In that life, I had been a picky baby, refusing to breastfeed. My mother, the woman who took me home, had just given birth but dragged her exhausted body back to work immediately, just to earn enough to buy me formula. She would eat one cheap takeout box over three meals but bought me the best money could buy. I grew up plump and healthy, while she, worn down by labor and malnutrition, collapsed at her factory job before I was even old enough to remember her face. After she died, I was found on the verge of starvation in our tiny apartment and sent to an orphanage. I stumbled my way to eighteen, graduated from a community college with no real plan, and was ready to just drift through life. Then, a routine medical check for Ruby’s college application revealed a discrepancy. My biological parents finally discovered that their real child was still out there. One afternoon, while I was secretly reading a novel in the back of a lecture hall, I was called out of class. My life was about to change. At first, my real parents, the Fairchilds, were consumed by guilt. They showered me with attention, desperate to make up for lost time. They even made Ruby give me her bedroom, terrified I might feel slighted in any way. Honestly, I didn’t care about any of that. A warm bed and a full stomach were more than I had ever dared to dream of. But it wasn’t enough for them. They tried to give me the world. “You are our real daughter, Grace,” my mother would say, stroking my hair. “I only wish I could pluck the moon from the sky for you.” For a while, I was bathed in a kind of love I’d never known. I wanted a family so desperately. How could I not accept them when they were being so kind? Slowly, I let my guard down. I started to trust them, to rely on them. I thought my suffering was finally over. I thought that with my parents by my side, I would be the happiest girl in the world. But lost in our reunion, none of us saw what was happening to Ruby, the girl we had all started to ignore. On my nineteenth birthday, my first with the family, I closed my eyes and made a heartfelt wish to be with my parents forever. Just as I was about to blow out the candles, a maid came skidding down the stairs, her face pale with panic. “It’s miss Ruby! She’s tried to kill herself!” We found her in the bathtub of my room, her lips a deathly white. She was barely hanging on. When she saw my parents, a faint, satisfied smile touched her lips. She curled into my mother’s arms. “Mommy, Daddy,” she whispered, “in my next life, I promise I’ll be your real daughter.” My mother clutched her, her body wracked with sobs. She almost fainted from the grief. “You foolish, foolish girl! Why would you do this?” “In my heart, you are my real daughter! You have always been my most precious child!” But Ruby just shook her head, her movements weak. “Grace is the real one. Mommy, promise me… promise you won’t forget me?” Her eyes shifted to me. “Grace… don’t worry…” A small, chilling smile played on her lips. “No one will be fighting you for Mommy and Daddy anymore.” “And… I’m sorry for making a mess in your room.” Tears streamed down my mother’s face as Ruby’s body grew cold in her arms. “Ruby, don’t go to sleep. Please.” “Was it because I made you change rooms? Ruby, if you just wake up, I’ll give you anything you want! Anything!” “Wake up! Please, wake up!” “Was it Grace? Did Grace upset you?” “I’ll send her back to the orphanage, Ruby! I’ll send her away and never let you see her again!” I knew she was just lashing out in her grief. I tried to comfort her, but as I stepped closer, she shoved me away, her face contorted with rage. “Get out! This is all your fault!” “You! You killed her!” she shrieked, her grief twisting into blame. “If you had never come back! It would have been better if you had never come back! Why couldn’t it have been you!” She pushed me again and again, sobbing hysterically. “It was just a room! Of course, a girl raised in poverty would be greedy and grasping.” My father stood beside her, his own eyes red with tears. But I hadn’t asked for the room. They had insisted. I looked at him, my heart aching with a desperate need for him to defend me. He just let out a heavy sigh, his gaze complicated. “Grace, maybe…” “Maybe you should go back to the orphanage.” 2 My time with them had been a dream. Ruby’s death was the cold water that shocked me back to reality. My brother, Alex, rushed home from college and slapped me across the face the moment he saw me. We were siblings, flesh and blood. But our first real meeting felt like a clash of mortal enemies. His eyes burned with a hatred so pure it was terrifying. “You murderer. If you hadn’t come back, Ruby would still be alive!” “I only wish I had come home sooner,” he snarled, “so I could have killed you with my own hands before you drove her to this!” My cheek stung, the force of the blow sending me stumbling backward. Through my brother’s shocked gaze, I felt my foot slip on the edge of the top stair. I tumbled. The next time I opened my eyes, my tiny infant hand instinctively closed around the flimsy wristband on my arm. My grip was surprisingly strong. I held on to it through the entire bath, so tightly that the nurse finally noticed and re-fastened it securely. Maybe this time, I thought, there won’t be a mistake. Maybe this time, they’ll love me. But as the door to the nursery clicked shut and I lay in the incubator that should have been Ruby’s, the truth hit me with crushing certainty. Even in this new life, I was the one they chose to throw away. The effort of being born was catching up to me, and a wave of exhaustion washed over me. I didn’t have the energy to be sad. I just slept. The next time I was aware of anything, it was the gnawing ache of hunger. I opened my mouth, ready to unleash a newborn’s wail, when something soft was pressed against my lips. I was enveloped in a gentle, warm embrace. “If you don’t drink today, little one,” a soft voice murmured, “Mommy will have to go buy you some formula.” I froze. The memories of two lifetimes flooded back, and with them came an overwhelming sense of love and familiarity for this voice, this embrace. This was her. My real mother. I began to drink, gulping down the milk with a feeling of profound contentment. The woman holding me gasped in delight. But I only drank until the edge of my hunger was gone, then pulled away, smacking my lips to show I was done. I think, maybe, fate gave me this second chance not to chase after something I could never have, but to cherish the love that was right here in front of me. “Sweet girl, why won’t you drink a little more?” she cooed, gently patting my back. I turned my head away decisively. Mommy, you need to take care of yourself, too. If I drink a little less, you’ll have a little more strength. She couldn’t understand, of course, and was about to try again when the door to the hospital room opened. My biological mother peeked her head in, carrying several cans of formula. “Oh, this hospital air is so stuffy. Hello there! I’m in the room next door, and I see you’ve got a little girl, too.” “I bought way too much formula, and you know how it is for us new moms. Please, take these. Think of it as a gift!” My mom’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly.” But I knew she needed it. She had barely eaten anything substantial since giving birth. Mrs. Fairchild pushed the cans into her hands, her eyes lingering on me with a strange, sad look. “Nonsense! We women have to stick together.” “If you really feel bad about it,” she added quickly, “then just let your little one be my goddaughter. It’s only natural for a godmother to spoil her godchild!” My mother, poor and alone, couldn’t fathom the reason for this sudden, overwhelming kindness. But I could. I saw the guilt swimming in Mrs. Fairchild’s eyes as clear as day. Just as my mom was about to accept, I, who had been perfectly quiet, took a deep breath and let out a wail that tore through the quiet room. I sobbed and hiccupped, crying as if my heart was breaking. 3 The godmother business was dropped, for the moment. But my mother and Mrs. Fairchild became fast friends. Mrs. Fairchild was always stopping by with baby supplies, always using the same excuse of having “bought too much.” My mother knew it was a pretense, a way for this kind, wealthy woman to help her without hurting her pride. Though she didn’t understand the source of this charity, she was deeply grateful. The only problem was me. Every time the subject of being a goddaughter came up, I would start screaming. My mother loved me too much to see me so distressed, so she stopped mentioning it and instead focused on repaying Mrs. Fairchild’s kindness in other ways, like sharing portions of her simple meals. Mrs. Fairchild didn’t give up. She would often bring Ruby over. “It’s fate that we met, and it’s fate that our girls were born so close,” she’d say. “Let them grow up together, like sisters. They can support each other in the future.” Sometimes, when we were alone, she would whisper to me. “Grace, I’ve wronged you in this life. I’m so sorry.” “I promise, I’ll give you everything I give Ruby. Everything.” “Except for a mother’s love.” She was torn between the daughter she had raised as a treasure and the daughter she couldn’t bring herself to abandon completely. It was she who had orchestrated the switch in this new life, and now she was playing this hypocritical game, trying to create some kind of twisted balance. I felt nothing but a cold emptiness. I wanted nothing to do with the family from my past life. This time, my only family was the woman who held me. Everyone else was a stranger. But I had to admit, Mrs. Fairchild’s hypocrisy had its benefits. Her constant stream of “gifts” meant my mother didn’t have to work herself to the bone. Over time, she not only avoided the malnutrition of her past life but even gained a little healthy weight. That didn’t change how I felt. Whenever Ruby was placed next to me, I would summon all my strength to roll over and bite her. She, in turn, would dig her tiny, sharp fingernails into my skin. Neither of us could do much damage. I had no teeth, and she lacked strength. Our little skirmishes were always broken up by my brother, Alex. He would shove me away with disgust and give a vicious pinch to the soft flesh of my leg. “Vicious from the start, aren’t you?” he’d mutter. He was smart. He always pinched in places that wouldn’t show. Even when my mother found the bruises later, she never suspected him. She just thought they were bug bites. Because of this, I hated the whole hypocritical family. The first thing I did when I learned to walk was to push Ruby over while she was still struggling to stand. When Alex tried his pinching trick again, I did the exact same thing to Ruby. Same spot. Same mark. My shameless retaliation infuriated him. Eventually, he learned his lesson. He started watching Ruby like a hawk and stopped bothering me. I was relieved. I begged my mother to send me to school as soon as possible. This life, I was Grace. I would not, could not, walk the same path as before. Mrs. Fairchild still visited often. Seeing me study so diligently from a young age, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity. “Grace, you don’t have to work so hard.” “Come to my house. Come play with Barbies with Ruby.” “You’re just a child. You should be enjoying your childhood.” She acted as if I had ever once acknowledged her as my godmother. I gave her a cold, indifferent look. “Ma’am, first of all, I only have one mother,” I said flatly. “Second, I’m studying so I can give my mom a good life one day. Please don’t distract me. And please, stop coming to see me.” She froze, her face a mask of hurt. I thought she would finally give up. But the very next day, she enrolled Ruby in my school. 4 Mrs. Fairchild made a massive donation to the school, effectively buying her way onto the board, and brought in all the elite tutors she had arranged for Ruby in our past life. Ruby stood before me in her sparkling shoes, a look of pure arrogance on her face. “Grace, an ugly duckling will always be an ugly duckling.” She tilted her chin up high. “I don’t know why my mom is so obsessed with you this time around, but you couldn’t beat me in our last life. This one will be even worse for you.” She waited, a smug look on her face, expecting a reaction. All she got was a look from me like she was an idiot. “Whatever,” she muttered to herself. “Why am I even talking to a child who hasn’t figured things out yet?” “If I’d known how important I was to Mom and Dad, I never would have faked that suicide last time. It’s all your fault, really. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have lost control and actually died.” Ruby mumbled on. “My time is precious. I didn’t come back to play house with a little kid.” Alex was waiting at the school gate to pick her up. Just like that, she skipped class. I didn’t care what she was doing. She was obviously using her knowledge of the future to get a head start on making a fortune. I had no interest in that. For one, I was just a child. And for another, my education in my past life was so poor, my social skills so lacking, that when the Fairchilds had tried to introduce me to their world, I had made a fool of myself at every turn. They never said anything, but soon, they took me out less and less, preferring to have Ruby on their arm. This life, I was going to raise myself right. In front of her mother, Ruby was a model student, brilliant and obedient. Since she had already learned everything once before, Mrs. Fairchild never noticed her constant truancy. I, on the other hand, was starting from scratch. As the years passed, Ruby’s wardrobe filled with designer labels. I graduated at the top of my class and was accepted into the city’s most prestigious university. Ruby didn’t even show up for the final exams. As I walked into the exam hall, she scoffed. “Only poor people like you have to take the long way around by studying.” She had every reason to be confident. After the exams, Mrs. Fairchild and my mom booked a fancy hotel to celebrate our graduation. Ruby just pouted and said exams were boring, and that was that. She was given a spot in the elite program at my university without even having to take a test. Ruby had a good mother. But so did I. And mine was better than anyone’s. Once my mother was back on her feet, and after she realized how much I resisted Mrs. Fairchild, she stopped accepting her gifts. She only compromised when it came to educational resources she simply couldn’t provide. Even then, she insisted on taking out loans to pay her back, refusing to accept charity. “Grace, you hold your head high,” she always told me. “I will never let you be less than anyone else.” For this graduation dinner, Mrs. Fairchild had proposed a celebration and had even invited the dean of our new university. My mom couldn’t refuse, but she wouldn’t be a freeloader. She insisted on paying for half of the expenses. Not wanting to disappoint my mother, I went. But when I arrived at the hotel, I saw that my mother’s seat was in the farthest, darkest corner of the room. Mrs. Fairchild stood at the head table, beckoning to me warmly. “Grace, come quickly!” “This is Dean Albright. Come and say hello.” “Dean, please take good care of my two daughters.” Ruby snuggled up to her mother and chirped, “Hello, Uncle Al.” Mr. Fairchild nodded at me, a pleased look on his face. “Well done. You’ve made us proud with your exam results.” They gestured for me to sit next to Ruby. The other guests were all seasoned socialites. They knew who I was, but they played along. “You’ve done a wonderful job raising your daughters, Mr. Fairchild. Both of them are so bright.” Alex let out a snort. “You’ve got that wrong. Only my sister is bright.” He glanced at me, his smile never wavering. “The other one… well, my mother has a soft heart. She just let a stray leech off some of our resources. Think of it as feeding a dog.”

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The moment Dad and I walked into the children’s home, a stream of text floated past my eyes. [Oh no, it’s happening! The villainess is about to pick the heroine. I can’t watch. Why can’t she just get lost? Our precious girl was supposed to stay here and struggle alongside the male lead.] [If it weren’t for this wicked side character, the main couple would’ve gotten together ages ago. The hero wouldn’t have developed that inferiority complex or been so insecure later on. If the villainess just disappeared, the heroine could’ve toughed it out with him. With his brains, they’d have ended up way better off than her!] I froze. Wait, what? Struggle together? Who in their right mind wants to suffer? My gaze fell on a frail-looking girl standing nearby. I pointed. “Daddy, I want her to be my sister!” Hearing me, a boy from across the yard, his eyes burning with resentment, rushed over. He grabbed the girl and pulled her behind him. “Naomi is not going with you.” The floating comments instantly erupted with excitement. [He’s been reborn! The male lead is back! Our girl is saved!] [Yes! As long as the heroine doesn’t leave with the villainess, this will be a fluffy romance! Not one of those toxic, angsty dramas!] 1 I stared at the defiant boy in front of me and pursed my lips, unimpressed. Toxic drama? Suffering together? Had the world gone completely mad? I stepped forward and took the girl’s hand. “Naomi,” I said, using the name I’d heard the boy shout, “do you want to come home with us? My house is really big, and we have tons of delicious food.” The girl, Naomi, looked at me timidly, a flicker of light finally returning to her eyes. But before she could answer, the little boy shoved me aside. “Stay away from Naomi! Don’t think you can just force people to do what you want because your family has a little money!” The director hurried over to intervene. “Shawn! What do you think you’re doing?” Shawn’s face was a mask of disgust. “If she goes with you, she’ll become just as spoiled and arrogant as you! She promised she’d stay here with me!” My father frowned, then looked at me. “Ivy, are you sure you want this young lady?” I rubbed my shoulder where the boy had pushed me. It stung. Still, I nodded. Naomi was actually one of the children the director had recommended. When I first saw her photo, I’d felt an instant connection. There was something about her, an air of vulnerability that made me want to protect her. But ever since I’d set foot in this place, both the floating comments and this so-called male lead, Shawn, had been trying to stop me. I just didn’t get it. Did people really prefer a life of hardship over a life of comfort? I held out my hand again, offering Naomi my sweetest smile. “Naomi, would you like to come home with me? If you do, just come over here, okay?” Naomi wrung her hands. She took a half-step forward, but Shawn yanked her back again. “Naomi, don’t go with her! Rich people like them will just corrupt you.” I stomped my foot in frustration. “What is wrong with you? I’m trying to give my new sister a better life! You just keep getting in the way. Are you just jealous?” Shawn’s body went rigid. He shot me a venomous glare. “Like I’d want any of it!” The director, clearly thinking Shawn was being unreasonable, tried to have a caregiver lead him away, but he dodged her. He pulled Naomi aside and started whispering furiously in her ear. The director sighed. “Shawn used to be such a well-behaved boy. I don’t know what’s gotten into him the last few days. He’s been acting so strange.” Hearing this, my dad glanced at Naomi, who was still being held captive by Shawn. “Ivy, maybe we should choose someone else? There are lots of other boys and girls here.” I pouted and turned my head away. “No! I only want her!” 2 As soon as I said it, the comments started scrolling frantically again. [She’s so malicious! Is she doing this on purpose just to break them up?] [If the heroine goes with her, the hero will be left to suffer all alone in the orphanage! He’s so awkward, no one else wanted to adopt him. That’s why he didn’t meet our girl again until college. It’s all this villainess’s fault!] I shot a cool glance at the text. What a bunch of jerks. Why should she have to suffer with him? And what’s so bad about coming with me? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I was the one trying to help her! Why was everyone treating me like the bad guy? I huffed and kicked a loose pebble on the ground. After a few moments, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I followed the gaze. A boy with strikingly handsome features was sitting on a nearby bench. I blinked, then slowly walked over to him. “Why are you sitting here all by yourself?” He shifted uncomfortably and turned away, holding up a book. “Reading.” “No, you weren’t.” I leaned in, my head tilted. “You were totally staring at me.” I turned to the director. “Ma’am, is this boy from the home, too?” The director’s smile was a little tight. “Yes. His name is Jasper.” I smiled at Jasper. “Do you want to come home with me?” The comments went wild again. [Wait, how did the villain and the villainess meet this early?] [She didn’t even see him when she visited the orphanage in the original story!] [If these two troublemakers team up, our hero and heroine are going to have a miserable time, aren’t they?] My eyes lit up as I read the comments. So, this boy and I were supposed to know each other later on. I reached out and tugged on his sleeve. “What do you say? You can be my brother.” Jasper pretended to be absorbed in his book. “Whatever.” That was all the confirmation I needed. I grabbed his hand and marched him over to my dad. “Daddy, I’ve made up my mind! I want Jasper to be my brother and Naomi to be my sister. If you say yes, I’ll promise to listen to everything you say from now on, okay?” My dad just shook his head, a helpless smile on his face. “You and your whims. What am I going to do with you?” I giggled, then looked over at Naomi, who was still talking with Shawn. I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted. “Naomi! We’re going home now! Come on!” 3 Naomi’s head snapped up, her face filled with surprised delight. I gave her a radiant smile and held out my hand again. “Hurry! Let’s go home together!” A huge grin spread across Naomi’s face as she ran over and took my hand. Just as we were about to leave, she turned back to Shawn. “I don’t think Ivy is the kind of person you say she is. So please, don’t talk about her like that anymore.” The comments were furious. [Is the heroine brainwashed? How can she talk to the male lead like that?] [She’s already been corrupted by the villainess. Daring to talk back to him now… she deserves it when he cheats on her later. I wouldn’t want a woman like that either.] [But… she didn’t do anything wrong. A guy was grabbing her in public. It’s only natural for a girl to defend herself.] I pouted. What was their problem? A bunch of biased comments that only cared about the male lead. What did my new sister do to deserve this? Once the paperwork was done and we were in the car, I held onto my new brother and sister, one in each hand. Now Ivy Croft has a brother and a sister. Let’s see who dares to make fun of me now! In the car, I noticed Naomi looked a little tense, so I scooted closer to her. “Don’t be scared, Naomi. It’s just me and Daddy at home. Tonight, I’ll have our cook, Mrs. Gable, make you Coca-Cola glazed ribs. They’re the best!” Naomi nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Ivy, I think you’re really nice. Nothing like what Shawn said. He even told me you didn’t really like me and wouldn’t pick me. I’m so happy… thank you for bringing me with you.” “See? I’m a super-duper good person! I’m taking you home to give you a wonderful life.” I sniffed. “I’d never even met him before, and he was already bad-mouthing me. He’s the mean one!” Naomi gently tucked a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. “You know, the first time I saw you, I liked you right away. You looked so sweet and cuddly. Shawn is usually a nice person, but he was acting so weird today.” Thinking about what the comments said about him being “reborn,” I decided to just ignore it. “Forget about him. You’re coming home with me! I, Ivy Croft, finally have a brother and a sister! From now on, I’ll protect you both!” I glanced at Jasper, who was still sitting silently beside me, and nudged him with my elbow. “Jasper, why are you so quiet?” Jasper cleared his throat. “Sore throat.” My eyes widened. I leaned over the front seat. “Dad! Call Dr. Peterson to the house, quick! My brother has a sore throat!” Dad patted my arm. “Sit down, sit down. We’ll have him looked at when we get home. It’s okay.” 4 I nodded and took Jasper’s hand, patting it reassuringly. “Don’t worry, brother. Dr. Peterson gives shots that don’t hurt at all. If you’re scared, I can cover your eyes for you, and you won’t feel a thing.” Jasper’s face turned beet red. “I’m not scared,” he muttered. My eyes grew wide. “You’re not? You’re not even scared of shots?” Naomi quietly raised her hand. “I’m not scared either.” I was even more astonished. “What? Neither of you are scared?” Jasper just grunted in affirmation. I pouted, feeling a little challenged. “Well, I’m not scared either.” Besides, Dad said you stop being scared when you grow up. They were already grown up. When I was their age, I wouldn’t be scared either. When we got home, Mrs. Gable had a feast waiting for us. I pulled my new siblings to the dining table. “Coca-Cola glazed ribs! Slow-cooked brisket! Honey-garlic chicken wings! These are all my favorites! You have to try them! Mrs. Gable is the best cook in the world!” Dad shook his head with a fond smile and ruffled my hair. “What do we do before we eat?” “Wash our hands!” I shouted. With that, I dragged them both to the sink. At the table, Dad piled food onto their plates. “Don’t be shy here. This is your home now. If you want anything, just tell Mrs. Gable. We’re a family.” Naomi’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded. Jasper didn’t say anything, but I saw him trying to hide by burying his face in his bowl of rice. I quickly put a piece of brisket on his plate. “Eat up, Jasper. There’s plenty more if you’re still hungry.” After dinner, the clothes Dad had ordered for them arrived. I pointed to the boxes on the floor. “Go on, try them on! My brother and sister deserve to wear the very best!” Naomi’s hands trembled as she touched a soft dress. “Is all of this for me?” I nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! It’s all for you guys!” Dad smiled and took out two debit cards, handing one to Jasper and one to Naomi. “I’m not always home, so if you need to buy anything, you can do it yourselves or just ask Mrs. Gable. I’ll put a monthly allowance on these cards. If it’s not enough, just send me a message. Don’t feel like you have to save it.” Seeing their hesitation, I snatched the cards from Dad and pressed them into their hands. “Don’t be polite! We’re family, remember?” Jasper nodded firmly. “Right. Family.” Suddenly, Naomi wrapped me in a hug. “Ivy, thank you so much.” I scratched my head, feeling a little embarrassed. “It’s nothing, really.” 5 That night, because it was my first time having a sister, I begged Naomi to sleep in my room with me. Lying in my big, soft bed, Naomi let out a long sigh. “Ivy, did you know? I never even had my own bed before.” “What?” I turned to face her. “Why not?” Naomi bit her lip, as if recalling something painful. “My birth parents… they didn’t like me. They only wanted my little brother. They sent me to live with my grandparents, but they didn’t like me either because I was a girl. Then… my brother accidentally started a fire. He… and my parents… they didn’t make it. My grandparents couldn’t handle the grief, and they passed away soon after. None of my other relatives wanted me, so they just… left me at the orphanage gates.” I gently wiped a tear from her cheek. “It’s okay. It’s okay now. I like you.” “When I heard you choose Jasper today, I really thought I had lost my chance.” Naomi sniffled. “So when you called my name, I was so surprised. I couldn’t believe someone would choose me, and be so determined about it.” I threw my arms around her and held her tight. “Of course I chose you! I wanted you from the very beginning! Don’t cry, don’t cry.” When she kept crying, I started making silly faces at her until I finally coaxed a smile out of her. Naomi let out a little laugh. “From now on, I’ll always be good to you.” I grinned and nodded. When I woke up, Naomi was already gone. I rushed downstairs to find Jasper up too, already reading a book. It seemed I was the only one who slept in. I flopped down next to Jasper. “Brother, why are you always reading? I have a game console, you know. Wanna play?” “After I finish this. I need to study hard.” Jasper ruffled my hair. “That way, I can take care of you and Naomi in the future.” I nodded seriously and even brought him a few more books. “You better study really, really hard then.” Seeing me, Naomi hurried over with a plate of freshly made sandwiches. “Ivy, come try this! It’s my first time making them, but Mrs. Gable showed me how. I tasted one, and it’s not bad!” I hugged her with delight. “See! Having a sister is the best.” “Jasper, you have one too! I made three,” Naomi said, offering him the plate. Jasper raised an eyebrow, took one, and bit into it decisively. “Not bad.” I beamed, happily munching on my own sandwich. 6 I thought our lives would continue on this peaceful, happy path forever. But one day at school, I saw Shawn. And with him, those annoying comments reappeared. [You have no idea how hard the hero worked to get into this A-list academy.] [It breaks my heart thinking about him studying every single night. I wonder where our girl is now? If she knew how hard he was working for her, she’d probably cry her eyes out.] [Our hero is one of the few who got into this school on pure academic merit. Thank goodness he was reborn. He can use his knowledge from his past life to meet our girl early.]

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Three years. Three years since the Blackwoods claimed me as their long-lost son, and all three of my welcome-home galas had ended in disaster. The first year, I was publicly accused of stealing a watch, becoming the laughingstock of the city’s elite. The second year, I was shoved into the swimming pool and left to drown, battling a fever that kept me unconscious for three days straight. I nearly died. The third year, a forged paternity test was thrown in my face, and my mother, Mrs. Blackwood, announced she was disowning me on the spot. And every single year, the fiasco ended the same way: with Justin, the son they’d raised, tearfully admitting he’d made a mistake. But the family’s response to me was always the same. “Justin’s just scared you’ll take our love away from him. He’s just acting out.” “You’re a Blackwood now. Why are you so hung up on these little things?” Then came the fourth gala. Justin staged a dramatic suicide threat from a high platform. I rushed to save him, but in the process, I fell. My right leg was shattered. As I lay there, my family swarmed around the terrified Justin, cooing and comforting him. They sent the butler to deliver a single message to me. “Know your place. Don’t disturb Justin’s rest.” Lying in my hospital bed, I touched my broken leg and laughed until tears streamed down my face. It wasn’t that Justin was afraid I’d steal their love. It was that the Blackwoods never wanted to love me at all. If that was the case, then I didn’t need to be a Blackwood. … With my mind made up, I started the discharge process. But then, I overheard them in the corridor—Justin and my sister, Sera. Justin’s eyes were red-rimmed, his voice laced with worry. “Sera, what if Orion’s leg actually heals? Mom and Dad will still favor him, won’t they? I mean, he’s their real son…” “Don’t worry. I’ve already spoken with the doctor. His leg… he’ll be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.” Sera, my sister who had always been so cool and distant with me, now comforted him with a voice full of aching tenderness. Justin still seemed anxious. “But… he only got hurt because he was trying to save me…” “You’re just too soft, still thinking about him at a time like this.” Sera cut him off, a note of indulgence in her voice. “Who do you think helped you pull off the stunts at the last three galas? He’s just some backwater kid who grew up in the dirt. How could he ever compare to you, the son who’s been with us for twenty years? He’s not worthy.” My legs nearly gave out. A roar filled my ears. I had thought Justin was the sole architect of my misery. I never imagined that my sister, the one I respected most, was the sharpest knife in my back. I turned, dragging my casted leg with me, and walked away, step by agonizing step. With every move, the searing pain from my fractured bones was a brutal reminder of my own foolishness. Three years ago, the Blackwoods had plucked me from Havenwood, a town that was poor but filled with love. My name was Asher. They told me I should be Orion Blackwood now. The true heir, switched at birth two decades ago. But my return to the family was met with nothing but one of Justin’s cruel melodramas after another. Each time, Justin would cry and apologize, insisting it was just a moment of weakness. And each time, my so-called family would use the same tired excuses to pressure me into being the bigger person. “We’ve spoiled Justin since he was a child. He doesn’t mean any harm.” “You’re the real son of this family. Why lower yourself to his level?” I compromised again and again for them, only to have them plot my ruin. A suffocating weight pressed down on my chest, and tears welled in my eyes. My phone buzzed. A new post from Sera. [Our dear Justin had such a scare. Your big sister will always protect you.] The picture was of Justin, pale and fragile, nestled in her arms. The irony was so bitter it made me want to laugh. I scrolled through my contacts, my finger trembling as I dialed a number. The moment the call connected, my adoptive father’s familiar, worried voice came through. “Asher? What is it? Is something wrong?” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I collapsed onto the curb outside the hospital and sobbed like a lost child. “Dad,” I choked out. “I want to come home.” It was pitch black by the time I returned to the Blackwood mansion. The living room was ablaze with light, echoing with laughter and cheerful chatter. I stood at the doorway, a ghost with a broken leg, watching the happy family inside. Justin was the center of it all, sitting on the sofa like a prince holding court. A massive cake sat on the table, inscribed with the words: Wishing our treasure a speedy recovery. They were celebrating his recovery from the “fright” he’d had. Meanwhile, I, the one who had actually fallen and nearly died, hadn’t received so much as a single word of concern. Their light had never been meant for me. A bitter smile touched my lips, but it was shattered by a cold voice. “Orion, where have you been? Don’t you know the whole family has been worried sick about Justin after his scare? And you just vanish without a word!” Sera stood there, her brow furrowed, looking down at me with disdain. I pointed to my cast. “Sera, take a good look. I broke this leg saving your precious little brother.” Her eyes flickered with a brief, startled uncertainty. Just then, a choked sob came from the sofa. “Sera, don’t blame Orion,” Justin cried. “It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt… Orion, are you still mad at me?” Sera’s expression immediately hardened, her voice turning sharp. “This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t have to compete with Justin for everything!” So, in her eyes, even saving a life was just another competition. “So, I brought this on myself?” “Didn’t you?” she shot back, pointing a finger at my face. Each word was a dagger twisting in my heart. “I warned you. Keep your head down and be grateful you’re a Blackwood. Stop trying to compete with Justin. He’s been with us for twenty years. You can’t compare to that.” No, I couldn’t. Twenty years of shared memories made blood worthless. Mr. Blackwood shot me a look of deep disappointment. “Orion, you need to learn some gratitude. We took you out of that miserable town, gave you a life of luxury. What more could you possibly want?” It was always like this. No matter how deeply I was wronged, the moment Justin shed a tear, I was the one at fault. Seeing my silence, Sera pulled a credit card from her wallet and tossed it at my feet. “This is more than enough for your medical bills and compensation. From now on, just try not to cause any more trouble.” Clack. The card hit the marble floor, and my heart and my dignity shattered right along with it. I met her eyes, my throat raw. “Sera, if it had been Justin who fell from that platform yesterday, would you be saying the same thing to him?” She froze, as if she’d never considered the question. After a long moment, she answered, her voice like ice. “Justin isn’t manipulative like you.” Ha. I closed my eyes, the last bit of warmth in my heart extinguished. “I’ll be out by tomorrow.” With that, I began the difficult journey to my room. Behind me, I faintly heard Sera mutter, “Ungrateful little brat.” I sat on my bed, numb, curling into a ball as a raw ache tore through my chest. It felt like I was suffocating. I don’t know how long I sat there before a distant roll of thunder startled me back to the present. Was this all a dream? I wondered dully. I had spent so many nights dreaming of what it would be like to finally find my real family. Not once did I imagine it would be like this. I forced myself up and looked around the room. It was mine in name only. Traces of Justin were everywhere. The old model kits he no longer wanted, the worn-out sneakers he’d discarded—they filled my closet. The only thing that was truly mine was a small suitcase. Opening it, I carefully took out an old wooden music box. My adoptive mother had made it for me on my tenth birthday. On top was a small, dancing figure. Our Asher, she’d said, is going to be the most dazzling dancer on stage one day. It was my most precious possession. I was about to place it in my backpack when the door creaked open. Justin stood there, holding a glass of milk, an expression of pure innocence on his face. “Orion, you’re awake. I couldn’t sleep, so I warmed up some milk for you. It’ll help you feel better.” I ignored him, continuing to pack. He walked in, setting the milk on the table with a show of false concern. “Hey, don’t be mad at Mom, Dad, and Sera. They’re just really worried about me. I know you saved me, and I’m so, so grateful.” His words were poison. “Save your gratitude,” I said coldly. “Just stay the hell away from me.” The smile finally slid off his face. He leaned in close, his voice a venomous whisper. “Orion, who do you think you are? Some country bumpkin who thinks he has the right to compete with me?” My eyes widened in shock. He smirked, enjoying my reaction. “A cripple. Let’s see you try to compete with me now!” Suddenly, his hand “slipped,” and the entire glass of scalding milk splashed onto my arm. A searing pain shot through my skin. I grunted, my crutch clattering to the floor. Losing my balance, I crashed down hard. A wave of agony exploded in my leg, and a cold sweat broke out across my forehead. But the thing that truly broke my heart was the music box, which had tumbled from my grasp. A sickening crack echoed in the silent room. I struggled to look up, just in time to see Justin bring his foot down on it. The wooden box splintered into pieces. The little dancing figure snapped in two. “Ah!” Justin let out a sharp cry. Then, with practiced calm, he picked up a shard of wood and drew it lightly across his own arm. He dropped the piece and collapsed to the floor, wailing. “My arm! It hurts so much… Orion, why would you do this to me? I know I was wrong, please don’t hurt me…” His cries were so piercing they brought the entire family running from downstairs. Sera was the first to burst in. She rushed to Justin, fussing over him and inspecting his arm. “Justin, what is it? Where are you hurt?” “I’m okay, Sera,” he sobbed, shaking his head. “Orion didn’t mean it. He was just… he was just angry…” “Orion!” My mother’s shriek could have shattered glass. “You vile creature! What did you do to Justin now!” My father strode over to me. He looked at the mess on the floor, his face a mask of disgust and disappointment. “Orion, you’ve disappointed us beyond words. Justin brings you milk out of the kindness of his heart, and this is how you repay him?” I was still on the floor, the throbbing in my leg a brutal reminder of what had just happened. But no one cared about my fall. Their eyes were fixed on the trivial scratch on Justin’s arm. Suddenly, none of it mattered anymore. Seeing my silence, my mother grew even angrier and slapped me hard across the face. “I’m talking to you! Are you deaf? How did we raise such a vicious, cold-hearted son! Apologize to Justin, now!” I cupped my stinging cheek, my gaze defiant. “What did I do wrong? Why should I apologize?” “You dare talk back to me!” She raised her hand again. Sera stopped her, then turned her icy gaze on me. “Orion, this is your last warning. If you ever pull a stunt like this again, you can get the hell out of this house.” Before I could respond, she was gone, cradling Justin as she rushed him to the hospital. I waited at home for a long, long time, clinging to a ridiculous sliver of hope. My phone screen lit up and dimmed, over and over, but never with the call I was waiting for. No one came back. Fine, I told myself repeatedly. This is for the best. But my heart felt like it was drowning in acid. It wasn’t until the sky began to pale with the first light of dawn that I finally stirred. I rose numbly, packed my things, and bought a bus ticket. Suddenly, the door was thrown open with violent force. Sera stood there, dark circles under her eyes, her face etched with fury. When she saw my packed suitcase, her gaze turned glacial. “Orion, what kind of game are you playing now? Trying to run away to get sympathy?” I didn’t answer, just placed the last shirt in my suitcase and zipped it shut. My silence enraged her. She strode forward, snatched the suitcase from my hand, and kicked it over. My belongings scattered across the floor. The music box, which I had painstakingly glued back together, rolled out with a fragile, hollow sound. “Did you really think saving Justin once gave you the right to do whatever you want in this house?” She grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at her. “Justin had nightmares all night because of you. Tell me, how should I punish you for that?” I jerked my head up, my face a mask of disbelief. “What are you talking about?” Sera let out a cold laugh and signaled to the bodyguards behind her. “I warned you. You didn’t listen. So don’t blame me for being cruel.” At her nod, one of the men kicked my right leg. I crumpled to the floor, my leg screaming in agony. I struggled, but Sera leaned down, her voice a frigid whisper in my ear. “Orion, I’ll make them stop. Just promise me you’ll never bother Justin again.” My eyes were burning. I gritted my teeth. “You believe anything he says, don’t you?” “Should I believe a liar like you instead?” “You made a mistake,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “You have to pay the price.” She ordered the guards to grab my ankle and twist it outward. “AGH!” A blinding, white-hot agony shot up from the fracture, as if a thousand needles were grinding into my bone marrow. My vision went black, and my body convulsed uncontrollably. “Please… stop…” My voice was a broken, strangled gasp. “Sera… it hurts…” For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes. Her voice was stiff. “This time, I’ll let it go. But if there’s a next time…” Her phone rang, cutting her off. The screen lit up with Justin’s name. That brief moment of hesitation vanished. She violently shook my hand off, stood up, and answered the call, her voice instantly laced with concern. “Justin? Are you not feeling well again? I’m on my way.” Sera turned to leave. “Sera,” I called out. She paused, looking back with impatience. “If you ever find out you were wrong about all of this… will you regret it?” Her eyes darkened, her voice sharp as a razor. “The only thing I regret is not stopping my parents from bringing you back from that dump in the first place.” The door slammed shut, sealing away the last flicker of hope in my heart. I lay on the floor and began to laugh. And laughed, and laughed, until the laughter turned into a flood of tears. When I finally regained some strength, I struggled to my feet and began, piece by piece, to pack my scattered belongings again. It was time to go. Sera was jolted awake by a sharp pain in her chest. She’d had a nightmare. She dreamt Orion was lying on the floor, covered in blood, whispering over and over again. “Sera, it hurts so much…” She shot up in bed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. It was four in the morning. On a strange impulse, she got up and walked to Orion’s room. She opened the door to find it empty. Sera frowned. As she turned to leave, her eyes fell on a piece of paper on the desk. A cold dread washed over her. With a trembling hand, she picked it up. It was a letter. He was cutting all ties. Permanently. The paper slipped from her fingers, fluttering to the ground. Sera stood frozen for a moment, then bolted from the room.

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My father went bankrupt, my mother was gravely ill, my brother got into a car accident delivering food and was paralyzed from the waist down, and my stepsister, a false princess, had to eat radish soup with rice every day to pursue her dreams. The entire family depended on me. Gritting my teeth, I was about to use the money from today’s blood donation to treat everyone to a nice meal when countless bullet comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. “Don’t give it to them! These old folks are loaded; they’re just pretending to be poor to test you!” “Don’t spoil it, upstairs! This is a regret-of-the-dead story. Once they realize the real heir wasn’t after their money, they’ll regret it naturally!” “Oh, so the real heir has to die from illness before they feel any remorse? What’s the point of a story like that?” My mind exploded in a deafening buzz as a flood of unfamiliar memories, yet unmistakably mine, surged forth. 1 It turned out I was the true heir in a “real versus fake heir” story, and my biological parents were billionaires. Fearing I would covet their money, after acknowledging me, they collectively feigned illness and poverty. And I, to support the family, had to drop out of school to earn money, selling research projects, start-up companies, even resorting to selling my blood and participating in drug trials. Yet, I couldn’t bear to spend anything on myself, ultimately developing stomach cancer. After my death, the whole family went mad with regret, blaming and tearing each other apart. I looked up again to see my family staring intently at the money in my hand. My heart clear as crystal, I immediately tucked the cash back into my bag. My parents, brimming with suspicion, immediately asked what I meant. I put on a hesitant expression. “This money… I earned it by selling my blood.” The entire family was stunned. I lowered my gaze, placed the money on the coffee table, and spoke in a deliberately weak voice. “If you… cough, then take it. Don’t worry about me. For you, I’d even die willingly.” My family stared, dumbfounded. My parents, especially, were overcome with intense guilt. “This money isn’t absolutely…” Mom struggled to speak, her eyes filled with heartache as she looked at me. My stepsister, Daphne Hayes, scowled. My brother, Oliver Bellweather, noticing the abnormality, immediately frowned and chided me. “That’s enough, Amelia Thorne. Are you deliberately trying to play the victim? Is anyone in this family having an easy time?” He patted his paralyzed leg forcefully. “If I hadn’t broken my leg delivering food, I wouldn’t care for your money.” “Where did you learn such a self-pitying trick? You’re far too manipulative!” Daphne echoed him. “Yes, sister, does anyone even sell blood these days? How did you just ‘happen’ to find such a place? Nowadays, it’s all voluntary donations; there are many kind people, especially college students. No one would be foolish enough to buy blood.” Hearing this, my parents’ expressions subtly shifted, their gazes at me now filled with scrutiny. Before my biological parents took me home, I was working odd jobs, selling things at a street stall, constantly squabbling over space with vendors next to me. They initially felt a little sorry for me, but then Daphne chimed in, calling me black-hearted and greedy. With Oliver’s constant encouragement, they became wary of me, fearing I was a mercenary opportunist, so they decided to test me by feigning poverty. I looked up, opening my lips as if to defend myself. But as soon as I opened my mouth, I broke into a fit of coughing, my body swaying precariously. Finally, my eyes rolled back, and I simply fainted. Just before losing consciousness, a blood donation certificate conveniently fluttered from my hand. The date on it was today. My mother glared unhappily at the two siblings, then immediately rushed me to the hospital. 2 At the hospital, I finally got a good night’s sleep. Bullet comments scrolled rapidly before my eyes. “What’s going on? Why isn’t it following the plot? Where’s the regret-of-the-dead story? How can they regret it if she doesn’t die?” “I actually think the protagonist is doing the right thing. She just struggles to express herself, clearly giving so much, but because she doesn’t want her family to worry, her parents only learn the truth after she dies.” “Exactly, exactly! So what if the protagonist plays the victim? Her parents started playing the victim first, why isn’t anyone saying anything about that?” I lay there, eyes tightly shut, seemingly calm and peaceful. But deep down, my heart ached. I had been sent to an orphanage from a young age, always envying children who had both parents and grew up in loving families. I constantly fantasized about having parents, imagining that one day, they would come to take me home. I fantasized so often, only for it to fall through, that I slowly came to accept reality. When my biological parents appeared before me, I felt my heart pound. I was happy, yet also deeply wronged. I wanted to give everything to my parents, to this family, but I never expected them to lie to me, to be wary of me, to test me. They watched me suffer, not only ignoring it but actively contriving to appear poor and ill, forcing me to give, testing my sincerity. Twenty years ago, they abandoned me with their own hands. Twenty years later, they were pushing me to my death again, all because of ridiculous prejudices. This kind of family bond? I didn’t want it. When I woke again, it was to the sound of weeping. Daphne was at my bedside, wiping away tears, while Oliver gently comforted her from his wheelchair. “Don’t worry, Amelia sold you the spot, didn’t she?” I thought I’d misheard. Earlier, to support the family, I had sold my opportunity to study under my professor to a classmate. Was that also part of their scheme? “But Mom seems to like her a little now. What if Mom doesn’t like me anymore?” “What foolishness are you talking about? With me around, she’ll never get into the Sterling family as a young lady. You’re my only sister. Besides, have you forgotten?” He lowered his voice, “It was you who constantly donated blood and acted as a guinea pig, which led to the development of Mom’s special medicine!” “You mean… I understand. Big brother is the best!” I couldn’t help but curl my lips into a mocking smile. My mother suffered from a rare blood disease. In my past life, to cure her, I went to great lengths to raise money, even resorting to selling my blood and participating in drug trials to earn cash. The buyer, no one else, was my own brother. Then he turned around and credited all that effort to Daphne, proclaiming it was the result of her filial piety moving heaven itself! It wasn’t until after my death, when the truth was revealed, that Mom was filled with remorse. Now, I naturally wouldn’t be foolish enough to work tirelessly, only to have my achievements stolen. I coughed twice, then slowly lifted my head, meeting the hostile gazes of the siblings. Seeing I was awake, before I could even speak, Oliver, completely self-righteous, ordered me to be discharged immediately. “The doctor said you’re perfectly fine! You know you’re faking it, right? All the burdens of life are falling on your sister’s shoulders! She doesn’t even have time to write her thesis to support the family! Go back and write it for her right away!” I couldn’t hold back. I opened my mouth and snapped, “Whose dog isn’t leashed and barking everywhere?” 3 Oliver froze, and Daphne shrieked, covering her mouth dramatically. “You’re too much! How can you curse brother?! I won’t allow you to curse the best brother in the world!” I retorted, “Two dogs.” I jumped out of bed and walked away. Oliver tried to stop me, but I was too fast. I couldn’t care less about his barking behind me. I jogged all the way to the university, found my homeroom teacher, and withdrew my withdrawal application. Then, I jogged again to find my advisor, Professor Eleanor Vance, to apologize and request to resume my studies with her. Professor Vance was furious, her face cold as she told me to get lost. I knew her anger stemmed from her high expectations of me. She had repeatedly warned me not to be swayed by emotions, not to jeopardize my future. She had even reminded me that if my parents and siblings truly loved me, they wouldn’t constantly demand sacrifice and contribution from me. But I had vehemently argued, wasn’t sacrificing and contributing to family a matter of course? I had failed Professor Vance’s expectations, not only withdrawing from school but also selling my research spot, quitting the project team, and continuously contributing my intellect to Daphne, helping her climb the ladder by stepping on me. Now, Professor Vance’s refusal was my deserved retribution. I humbly apologized to her, and as I turned to leave, she suddenly called out to me. Her eyes, magnified by thick glasses, glistened with unshed tears. “Are you truly capable of genuine repentance?” My heart soared with delight. I nodded vigorously. “I swear! I’m willing to give everything to my profession! I will never do anything foolish again!” After a long moment, the pen in Professor Vance’s hand finally stopped sketching. She softly uttered a sentence. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get to the lab!” I was overjoyed, like a drowning person clutching a lifeline at the bottom of a lake. I couldn’t help but exclaim excitedly, then joyfully put on a lab coat and dove into the laboratory. Me, writing Daphne’s thesis? Me, doing her experiments, publishing her data, entering competitions for her? In your dreams! This time, I’m living only for myself! Family ties? Bullshit parental love? I want none of it! 4 Before I found my biological family, I took perfectly good care of myself and even had a stray dog, a little yellow mongrel. After being reunited, my brother claimed that the single room I rented had bad feng shui, which was detrimental to Mom’s recovery. So, with a grand gesture, he rented a spacious four-bedroom, two-living-room apartment. This meant I had to pay eight hundred a month in rent. The result? The house was overflowing with their belongings, while I was relegated to sleeping on the balcony. Even my dog was thrown out of the house by my brother multiple times. Later, my little yellow dog, like me, developed a tumor. Despite being in constant pain, she would still wag her tail whenever she saw me. My brother, in my absence, drove her deep into the mountains and abandoned her. When I was grieving, he coldly questioned me, “In your heart, which is more important: your family, or a dirty dog?” I thought he just disliked dogs, but my memories showed that Daphne’s villa housed three expensive pedigree dogs. He didn’t dislike dogs; he disliked me. He thought I was lowly, and that my dog was worthless. So, I didn’t go home. I took my little yellow dog directly to my and my friend’s studio. Without the burden of “family,” my life immediately soared, and my happiness index couldn’t be higher. However, as I became happy, they became unhappy. Because I had blocked my entire family, Mom couldn’t reach me and asked Daphne to find me. One day, as I entered the large lecture hall, I saw Daphne. She was petite, dressed in a light pink puff-sleeve dress, looking like a little princess. It was laughable that I had once been brainwashed by Oliver: “Even though she’s not truly a Sterling, she’s been part of the family for so many years. I treat her as my sister, so naturally, she’s your sister too. As her older sister, you have an obligation to fulfill all her needs.” So, while I was scrambling to find ways to make money, looking utterly disheveled, Daphne was able to brazenly enjoy all my efforts without lifting a finger. At this moment, she was surrounded by three or four girls—their little clique. As soon as I walked in, they eyed me with harsh, critical stares that were hard to ignore. But I tried my best to ignore them, focusing on reviewing my notes, waiting for the professor to arrive so I could ask some valuable questions. Daphne couldn’t hold back. She dabbed her eyes. Immediately, her sycophant number one couldn’t contain herself. “Amelia Thorne, don’t you see Daphne is crying? How can you still have the nerve to show your face after harming someone so terribly?” I frowned, annoyed. “None of your business!” Sycophant number two spoke up. “What kind of attitude is that? Didn’t you drop out? Why are you back? If it weren’t for you, how would Daphne have been kicked out by Professor Vance?” “Exactly.” Sycophant number three crossed her arms in agreement. “I heard you didn’t pay rent, causing your family to be thrown out by the landlord on a rainy day, worsening your mom’s condition. And you’re just sitting here in class like nothing happened? Where’s your conscience?” With the three sycophants fanning the flames, I became a disloyal, unfilial bane. Daphne, with tears streaming down her face like pear blossoms in the rain, pleaded, “Don’t talk about my sister like that. Whatever choices she makes, she’s still my sister… I, I’m fine, as long as sister is happy…” This trick again? Daphne was already delicate and pretty, and with her vivid acting, she successfully garnered everyone’s sympathy. Some even started stirring, chanting for me to get out. Even the renowned, stern Professor Vance looked at me with a dark, deathly gaze. Before, I would have been consumed by shame and anger. But now, I had found my voice. Playing the victim? Who couldn’t do that? She was faking it; I was genuinely miserable! I immediately fell silent, tears silently flowing, gazing at Daphne with a mournful expression, as if the whole world contained only the two of us. “Daphne, the dress you’re wearing, I bought it with the money from my fourteenth blood donation. You said you liked it, so I gritted my teeth and bought it.” “But this white T-shirt I’m wearing? I’ve had it for three years!” “We’re the same age, born on the same day, so why do you get to be the little princess of the family, while I’m constantly scrambling to cover all the family expenses?” “Dad’s cigarettes and alcohol, brother’s gaming gear, Mom’s medicine, your princess dresses and high heels, the entire family’s rent and living expenses.” “Daphne, I know you love me, but… but this love is truly too heavy. I genuinely can’t afford it!” “I have to get up at 5 AM every day to work, and I don’t get home until midnight. I’ve tried so hard to find ways to earn money, but my abilities are limited. I can only sell my coursework, my projects, even my start-up company, even my own body, my flesh and blood, to afford your luxurious lifestyle.” “I… cough cough, I really… can’t keep going. Please, please, just let me go!” I clutched my fists in anguish, leaning on the table, my slender body swaying precariously. The vast classroom fell into dead silence, then, like a clap of thunder, it erupted into a cacophony of buzzing voices.

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