Category: English

After picking up my daughter Evelina from preschool, she came home in tears, clutching her broken cochlear implant. “Mommy, that boy in my class said this thing is ugly,” she sobbed. “He told me if I dared to wear it again, he’d hurt me.” Fuming with anger, I immediately tagged the boy’s mother in our class group chat. To my surprise, her response was shockingly arrogant: [So what if my son broke it? I even stole your husband—messing with your daughter’s things is nothing. [Sure, you’re the legitimate wife, but you gave birth to a defective child! [My son is the eldest grandson of the Clapham family and the future heir. Who do you think you are?] Even their teacher chimed in, advising me to let it go. [Ms. Isabel Quiller, maybe it’s best to apologize.] Ms. Lytton suggested gently. [After all, you’re both the wives of the Clapham family’s sons, but she gave birth to a healthy boy. Rich families still prioritize sons, don’t they?] I laughed, though there was no humor in it. Immediately, I froze my husband’s credit cards and called him directly. “What did you do? Using my money to fund a mistress while letting her bully me?” I demanded. He cried out in protest. “Honey, you can’t just accuse me of things because I’ve been away for a week!” I was in the study reviewing some documents when my daughter suddenly interrupted me. Before I could say a word, she burst into tears and threw herself into my arms. “Mom, Mommy!” “I don’t want to wear my hearing aid to school anymore!” Hearing her choking on her sobs, my heart tightened. I quickly took her shoulders and asked why. As I spoke, I noticed a clear crack on her hearing aid. Her next words confirmed my suspicions. “Murray Clapham in my class said this thing is ugly. “He… he won’t let me wear it. “He ripped it off my head and threw it on the ground.” Seeing her so upset, I felt a mix of sorrow and anger. Gently, I wiped away her tears. “Sweetie, don’t cry. I will set things straight.” But just as I reached for my phone, her small hand pressed down on mine. Her face was a mixture of fear and desperation as she shook her head. “Please, Mom, don’t. “We can’t afford to cross them! “His family… they’re the richest in town. He’s the son of the richest family.” Her gaze fell, her voice drained. “Never mind, Mom. I’ll just wear a hat to school tomorrow… “So he can’t see it.” I paused, puzzled. The richest? Wasn’t that supposed to be me? After all, I controlled the family’s finances and held the real authority. Since when did I gain a son without knowing? Seeing my daughter so downtrodden ignited a fire in me. “Evelina, don’t worry,” I promised. “Tomorrow, I’ll go to school with you. Let’s see who dares to bully you then.” After calming her down, I picked up my phone and reopened the class group chat, which I hadn’t used in ages. I tagged Murray Clapham’s mother. [Are you aware that your son deliberately broke my daughter’s cochlear implant?] Typically, I was patient, even kind, when handling mistakes made by my employees. But now, seeing my daughter bullied, I found all my composure gone. The once lively group chat went silent as soon as I sent my message. The lack of response from the person in question only fueled my anger. I tagged her again. “Ms. Sara Thomson, are you aware of what your son did?” This time, she responded, and her reply left me speechless. She posted a picture of her son’s hand in the group chat and then tagged me. [Oh, it’s you!] she began. [My Murray came home saying his hand hurt—it’s all red! [Turns out he scratched it pulling that thing off your daughter’s head. [I haven’t even come to you about it, and here you are, acting all offended. Do you even have any shame?] Reading the endless messages from her, I was dumbfounded. I had never seen anyone so brazenly shameless! I typed back without even thinking. [Well, your parenting is certainly a revelation. Truly remarkable. [Seems like there’s no point talking to you here. Let’s discuss this in person at the kindergarten tomorrow!] But as soon as I hit send, her response came back even more brazenly, flaunting her status. [You? Who do you think you are to talk to me? [Do you even know who my son is?] Right then, Daniel Parker’s mom jumped in, quick to support her. [He’s the son of Hughes Clapham, the wealthiest man in the city! [Evelina’s mom, you’d better apologize. Maybe they’ll forgive you if you’re lucky.] Seeing that familiar name, I couldn’t help but laugh. [When we all joined, didn’t we confirm each other’s identities? [Hughes Clapham is my child’s father. Or is there a case of mistaken identity here?] This time, Murray’s mother, sent a voice message. Her shrill voice rang out through my phone. [No mistake at all. We share the same husband! [It’s just that I gave him a son, and you only have a daughter.]

I was so upset that my phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the table. [What do you mean?] I typed back. Sara sent an emoji first, then boldly revealed her identity. [I’m Hughes’ mistress—but that’s about to change soon enough.] Reading her message made my skin crawl. Daniel’s mother chimed in immediately, ready to flatter her. [Mistress? Who cares about that? Anyone who bears a son is practically a wife!] Jeremy Hayden’s dad joined in. [Only someone as wealthy as Hughes Clapham could pull that off. Impressive!] Then Andrew Tuttle’s mother added her voice, hoping to score points. [Sara, you’ve got real talent—you have a boy, and a strong one at that! [You’re set for life now.] I recognized each word, but somehow, seeing them strung together left me struggling to process the meaning. Immediately after, Sara tagged me directly in the group chat. [Technically, I should show you some respect. [But you only gave Hughes a daughter and a disabled one at that. [Meanwhile, I had a boy. Need I say more about who’s more valuable here? [My son will be the heir of the Clapham family someday. But hey, if you get your daughter on her best behavior, I might just let her stay around in the future.] I couldn’t hold back any longer and typed back furiously. [Are you out of your mind? [Do you really think I wouldn’t know if Hughes had a mistress? [I’m here talking about my daughter—don’t bring up other stuff!] Daniel’s mother immediately jumped in. [Isabel, it’s not too late to admit you were wrong. [You’re all part of the same family, but her son is the firstborn heir, isn’t he?] Andrew’s mom couldn’t resist adding: [Exactly. So you’re the wife. Big deal. All you have is a useless daughter, and you know as well as I do that you are never going to be respected for it.] Their words, heartlessly discussing my daughter’s disability, made my whole body shake with anger. Without a second thought, I grabbed my phone and called my assistant. “Look up everything you can on Daniel Parker and Andrew Tuttle’s families!” The call ended, but new messages were popping up in the group. Sara taunted: [I took your husband. My son damaging your daughter’s hearing device. What can you do about it? [And consider what might happen if you cross me. [Hughes would definitely leave you if I asked him to.] Reading the enthusiastic messages cheering Sara on made me feel sick. I was just about to respond when Ms. Lytton, Evelina’s teacher, called. “Is this Isabel Quiller?” I took a deep breath, trying to control my anger. “Yes, this is she. I just wanted to understand—” She cut me off sharply. “I know this might not entirely be your fault,” she said. “But let’s be clear. Do you even know who you’re dealing with?” “What kind of person are you talking about?” I muttered, feeling speechless. Ms. Lytton clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Look, I know both you and Sara are wives of the Clapham family’s sons. “But don’t you understand who holds more weight here? “Wealthy families have always favored sons, and let’s face it—your daughter has her own issues. “So, tell me, what makes you think you stand a chance here?” Her words were like a punch to the gut, leaving me nauseated. If I didn’t have Hughes’ every move under careful watch, I might have actually wondered if he’d really betrayed me. When I stayed silent, she took it as her cue to continue her “guidance.” “Honestly, the best thing you could do is let this go. “This is just kids playing around, right? He’s the Clapham heir. If he wants to roughhouse a little, who’s to stop him? “Just think it over carefully.” I finally snapped, my voice rising. “Tomorrow morning, I want a face-to-face meeting with Sara. “Please make it happen.” I hung up, heart pounding, a throbbing pain building in my temples as fury and disbelief washed over me.

Before going to bed, I decided to cut off Hughes’ credit card. Soon after, he called, sounding a bit cautious. “Honey, my card’s not working. I was just about to buy Evelina a gift.” I could barely contain my irritation. “Oh? So you’re using my money to keep another daughter on the side, and you even had a son?” There was a moment of confusion on the other end. “Honey, you’re accusing me of something here. What’s going on?” Still fuming, I filled him in on everything that happened today. He protested his innocence and assured me he’d booked a flight and would be home by tomorrow afternoon. That night, I slept beside my daughter. Her little cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were a bit swollen. The more I thought about Sara’s dismissive attitude, the more I couldn’t sleep. Early the next morning, the nanny came rushing in to tell me, “Evelina won’t put on her cochlear implant.” A pang of sadness struck me as I entered her room, where I found her quietly wiping away tears. When she saw me, she forced a smile. “Mommy!” I gently put the device on her. “Why aren’t you wearing it, sweetheart? Don’t you want to hear Mommy’s voice?” Evelina bit her lip and shook her head. “I’m afraid he’ll stomp on this new one, too.” It was clear that yesterday’s events had left her with an indelible scar. If I didn’t handle this properly, she’d be reminded of yesterday every time she wore her cochlear implant. I managed a small smile and gave her cheek a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry. Today, Mommy’s going to school with you to make sure you’re okay.” After breakfast, I drove her to the kindergarten. As we entered, I noticed a few parents already gathered at the door. Ms. Lytton’s face darkened when she saw me. She came right over. “Isabel, Sara is here too. “I suggest you show some courtesy and apologize.” I brushed past her, holding my daughter close, and walked into the small crowd. I spotted Sara right away. Despite it being early autumn, she was already wrapped in a fur coat, with flashy gold jewelry hanging around her neck and wrists. She was basking in the attention of the other parents, her face beaming with pride. “Sara, your skin looks so flawless. How do you do it?” “Oh, that bracelet on your wrist must have cost quite a bit!” I walked up to them, cutting into the conversation with a cold tone. “So, you’re Murray’s mother, Sara Thomson? “Where’s your son? Are you planning to explain what he did to my daughter yesterday?” My words brought an instant chill to the atmosphere. The other women, who had been chatting away, turned their attention to me. To keep things professional, I was dressed in a tailored suit, and on my wrist was a simple watch with a Peppa Pig charm that Evelina loved. They looked me over from head to toe and finally gave me a disdainful smile. Sara crossed her arms and shot me a smug glance. “Oh, you actually had the nerve to come here?” I raised an eyebrow. “Your son was in the wrong. Why wouldn’t I come?” She laughed, waving me off dismissively, and then pointed at my daughter. “She’s just a disabled kid. My son bullied her, so what?”

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Clara, my little angel, clung to life by a thread. Her delicate fingers wrapped around two lollipops as she softly called, “Daddy, Daddy…” Heart racing, I dialed Sean. His voice cut through the line, irritated. “I told you not to call me at work.” “But Clara—” The call dropped. I tried again, only to find he’d blocked me. With her last whisper, Clara asked, “Mommy, does Daddy not care about me?” Her tiny hand relaxed, and the lollipops fell, echoing in the silence. My heart shattered into a million pieces. Later, I learned that on that very day, Sean had been with his lover. And it was that lover who killed my daughter! Rage consumed me. I would not let those who took my daughter from me go unpunished. They would pay for what they had done! … Rushing into the hospital, I was met with the doctor’s grim face. He gently explained they’d exhausted every option, but Clara’s time was running out. Desperate, I pleaded for them to try something, anything, but the finality in his eyes told me we’d reached the end of the road. Dragging my feet, I walked to Clara’s side. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and called out, “Mommy.” She was only four years old, delicate like a budding flower. But this… this was our final moment together. My heart ached as though it was being torn apart, and tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. “Clara…” I could barely speak through my sobs. “Don’t cry, Mommy. Here, have a lollipop.” She struggled to lift her tiny hand. She was holding a lollipop in one hand. In her other hand, she had another lollipop. “I want to give one to you and one to Daddy. Where’s Daddy?” In a rush, I pulled out my phone. “I’ll call your daddy right now.” I dialed Sean, but he didn’t answer. My anxiety grew with each passing second. I kept calling, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally picked up. Before I could say anything, he barked, “Didn’t I tell you not to bother me when I’m at work?” Yes, Sean had told me not to call him during this period. He was competing for a department manager position, a promotion that would come with a hefty pay raise. He had said that calling him at work could jeopardize his chances. But something this serious had happened to our daughter, and I felt he needed to know. I said, “No, Clara, she…” He cut me off, his tone harsh. “You always use Clara as an excuse! Can’t you even take care of a four-year-old? I’m busy. Don’t bother me!” “Clara is in the hospital…” Before I could finish, he hung up. I called again, only to realize he had blocked me. “Mommy,” Clara asked, “does Daddy not want me anymore?” “No, no,” I quickly shook my head, trying to reassure her. “Daddy loves you the most. He’s just at work, but he’ll be here soon…” Clara stared at the door, her voice growing weaker as she continued calling, “Daddy, Daddy…” I couldn’t bear to see her like this. Desperate, I called Sean’s colleague, Beckett Palmer, and asked him to help me find Sean. Sean called back shortly after. “Sophie, are you serious? You’re unbelievable! You called my rival at work? Are you trying to ruin me?” I had forgotten he was competing for the promotion against Beckett, the same Beckett who had once shared meals at our home. In my panic, I blurted out, “Clara is running out of time. You need to come to the hospital now…” “Sophie!” he shouted furiously, “How dare you curse our daughter! Take care of her, and if anything happens to Clara, I swear I’ll never forgive you!” I yelled back, “If you actually care about her, then come to the hospital now!” He hung up without listening to another word. I was about to call again when Clara’s soft voice interrupted me, “Mommy…” I immediately looked down at her. She gathered all the strength she had left and whispered, “The lollipops… I don’t want to give them to Daddy anymore. They’re both for you…” It was as if a knife had pierced my heart. I couldn’t imagine how hurt Clara must have felt to say something like that. The light in her eyes faded, and her hand went limp. The two lollipops fell to the floor. “Clara!” I screamed in anguish, but she never opened her eyes again. I held her as her body grew cold, sobbing uncontrollably. A nurse, unable to hold back her own tears, said, “She was such a good girl. She wouldn’t let go of the lollipops. She kept saying they were for you and her dad.” My entire body shook as I cried. I knew my Clara was a good girl. Whenever she got snacks at preschool, she would always save them for us. And she always brought two of everything. One for me and one for Sean. She never played favorites. But now, my precious daughter was gone. My world had collapsed.

I was overwhelmed with grief. I cried for so long that I became completely drained. Holding Clara’s cold body, it suddenly hit me that I needed to take care of her funeral. I wanted her to find peace as soon as possible. But Sean’s phone was still unreachable. Once again, I called Beckett. At this point, I didn’t care if he was Sean’s rival. After all, his was the only number I had. As expected, Sean called back, furious. “Sophie! Are you done? You’ve ruined everything for me! I missed the promotion because of you. Do you even want to keep this marriage? Let me tell you…” I shouted back, “Sean! If you don’t come back to arrange Clara’s funeral, we’re getting divorced tomorrow!” I screamed, and he cursed. I didn’t catch the rest of his words. But he definitely heard the word “divorce.” He roared, “Fine, divorce it is!” Then I heard a woman’s voice on his end, saying, “Sean, don’t be hasty…” He immediately hung up. I stared blankly at the phone. I knew that voice all too well. It was Rhoda Hilton, Sean’s first love. I couldn’t fathom how they were together. Sean’s department was full of men. There were no women in his office. Rhoda didn’t work for his company either. My instincts told me something was very wrong between them. I sat there, dazed, and pulled out my phone to scroll through Twitter. On the day Clara fell ill, Rhoda posted a video. In the video, a cat was being held by the scruff of its neck, meowing pitifully. Rhoda pointed at the cat, scolding it, “Baloo, you’ve been so naughty today! Running around the streets like that, you could’ve died. If you do it again, I swear I’ll kill you. Do you hear me?” The hand holding the cat wasn’t Rhoda’s. It was someone else’s. Even though that person’s face wasn’t shown, I recognized Sean’s wedding ring on the hand. I froze, thinking, “But he said he was at work.” Suddenly, I felt like I didn’t know him at all. I didn’t know how many more lies Sean had told me. I checked the time when Rhoda posted that video. It was after Clara had fallen ill. That meant while Clara was in the hospital bed, desperately hoping her father would come to see her, Sean was helping his mistress find her cat! Yet he had lied to me, saying he was working overtime, even turning off his phone! He didn’t know that Rhoda and I were Twitter friends, and he never imagined his whereabouts would be exposed! Over the past few days, Rhoda had posted many videos, mostly about searching for or feeding the cat. Sean’s face never appeared in the footage. But whether on purpose or by accident, Rhoda always managed to capture a hand or a foot of his. Her captions hinted that they were a sweet little family. “Baloo ran onto the road again. It was so dangerous! I’m so scared one day he’ll get hit by a car. Good thing his daddy was there, or I never would’ve caught him.” “Baloo had so much fun playing with his daddy. I was the photographer.” “Baloo is lying at his daddy’s feet, but he’s staring at me.” “Baloo seems to like having both his mommy and daddy around.” The more I scrolled, the angrier I became. I thought, “Sean, while our daughter was on her deathbed, you abandoned her to play house with a cat? So you’re their little family now, huh? You’re not worthy of being called a father!” Staring at the wedding ring on Sean’s finger in those videos, fury surged through me. I had no idea how long they had been together. But judging from the videos, it was clear they’d been inseparable these past few days. While Clara was fighting for her life, while she was calling out for her father, Sean was lying to me about working late, all while helping his lover with her cat! I thought about the way Clara had longed for her father in her final moments, and my heart ached. I decided not to tell Sean about Clara’s funeral. He didn’t deserve to be there. I felt he didn’t deserve to be Clara’s father at all! I cremated Clara’s body alone. I bought her a small plot at the cemetery, right next to my mother’s grave. I buried her ashes there, along with a small headstone. The headstone read: [I’m sorry, my sweet girl. I failed to protect you. Sophie] I wept as I prayed for my mother to take care of Clara in the afterlife. Then, through my tears, I said goodbye to them both. Shortly after leaving the cemetery, I received a call from Clara’s kindergarten teacher, Shelia Mitchell. “Mrs. Warren, is Clara feeling better? Will she be coming back to school soon?” In grief, I replied, “Clara has passed away. She won’t be returning to kindergarten.” “What?” Shelia stammered, shocked. “How could that be? She only had a cold!” It had been Shelia who brought Clara to the hospital, and she had been the one to call me about Clara’s illness. She said Clara had complained of a headache and had vomited, likely just the flu. I shook my head. “It wasn’t the flu. She had a head injury…” “A head injury? But she never fell at school.” “She told me it happened outside of school.”

Clara had told me that her birthday was coming up, and her father had taken her out to buy a gift. While they were out, she had accidentally fallen. I hadn’t realized her fall was that serious. I called Sean to find out what exactly had happened. But he wouldn’t answer the phone. Clara said her father hadn’t noticed when she fell. I realized that even if I asked Sean, he might not know what had really happened. Shelia was heartbroken as well. Through her tears, she said, “I thought Clara just had a cold. I never imagined this would happen. Mrs. Warren, don’t be too sad. You need to take care of yourself. Clara wouldn’t want you to suffer so much.” She comforted me for a while, then suddenly said, “By the way, the afternoon Mr. Warren picked up Clara, it was actually a woman who dropped her off. Clara called her Ms. Hilton.” My heart skipped a beat. I quickly found a picture of Rhoda and sent it to Shelia. “Was it her?” “Yes, that’s her,” Shelia confirmed. “Did they pick Clara up together?” I asked. “I only saw Mr. Warren pick her up. But when she was dropped off, it was that woman. Mr. Warren wasn’t there.” Confusion swirled inside me. After thanking Shelia, I decided I needed to investigate this matter further. Just then, the cemetery administrator called me again, asking why I hadn’t properly buried the urn but had left it lying on the path. I rushed over and saw Clara’s urn discarded in front of my mother’s grave. Her headstone was gone. The grave I had dug was filled back in. I couldn’t understand who could be so cruel, not even allowing my child to rest in peace. I went to the administrator to check the surveillance footage. After watching the video, I was furious. The footage showed that not long after I left, Rhoda had arrived at the cemetery. She was holding a cardboard box. When she saw my child’s headstone, she cursed, “Who put this here? Are they blind?” She noticed my name on the headstone and spat out, “This headstone was placed by Sophie? Did her stupid cat die too? What right does she have to bury it here?” Rhoda then dug up Clara’s headstone and hid it behind my mother’s grave. That was when Sean arrived. Rhoda pointed at Clara’s grave and said, “I don’t know who took this spot.” Sean said, “Let’s find another one.” “No way. I want Baloo buried next to my father. He should keep my dad company.” Only then did I realize that Rhoda’s father was buried in the neighboring plot. Sean said, “But someone’s already taken this spot.” Rhoda pouted. “There’s not even a headstone here. Who knows if it’s a cat or a dog? Let’s dig up the ashes and throw them away.” Under Rhoda’s coaxing, Sean actually dug up Clara’s urn and tossed it aside. Then, they placed their cardboard box in the grave. Rhoda said, “Let me take one last look at my darling.” She opened the box, and I saw that inside was a dead cat. She murmured, “Baloo, this is the resting place we’ve chosen for you. Rest in peace. We’ll love you forever. Be sure to keep Grandpa company down there.” Sean meticulously fixed up the grave, making it look beautiful, and then left with Rhoda. I returned to the grave and angrily flung the cardboard box far away. But I didn’t bury Clara’s ashes again. Instead, I took them home with me. I had originally intended to let my child rest peacefully. I had planned to wait until Sean found out what had happened, bring him here, and make him repent to Clara. Now, I wasn’t going to let Rhoda and Sean off so easily. I would seek justice for Clara! When I got home, I checked Rhoda’s Twitter. She had posted a picture of herself arm-in-arm with another person. The caption read: [Baloo is gone. But during my darkest moments, I’m so glad I have you by my side.] Sean’s face was fully visible in the photo. He gazed at Rhoda tenderly, smiling dotingly. I smirked coldly. “Laugh all you want, Sean. You won’t be smiling for much longer!” Two days later, Sean called me and said, “Tomorrow’s Clara’s birthday. We’ve got a few guests coming over, so make sure everything’s ready.” He seemed to have completely forgotten about our fight over the divorce. I didn’t bring it up either and replied, “Alright.” The next day, Sean came home. The funny thing was, he even had Rhoda on his arm. The house was packed with guests. He hadn’t expected me to go all out with the arrangements. In front of me stood a large display board covered with Clara’s toys. At the center was Clara’s favorite doll pillow, flanked by two lollipops. Sean chatted with the guests for a long while before he realized someone was missing. He looked at me and asked, “Where’s Clara? She’s the birthday girl. She can’t hide. Go get her to greet the guests.” This was the moment I had been waiting for. I moved the display board aside and pulled down the white veil on the wall. “Clara is right here!” Sean froze as he took in the sight of the living room, now arranged like a funeral, and the massive black-and-white portrait of Clara.

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My husband gave away our newborn son to repay a war buddy who once saved his life. He lied to me, saying our child had died. Years later, I accidentally learned our son was alive. When I confronted my husband, he simply said, “I owed him this.” I tried to find our child, but my husband blocked every attempt. Consumed by grief and regret over losing my son, I eventually died of a broken heart. Incredibly, I woke up again. Back on the day I gave birth. “You like giving away children? Then you can die childless!” ***** A sharp pain jolted me awake. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, and I cried out. I tried to move, but my swollen belly pinned me down. “What’s wrong? Is it time?” a voice asked urgently. The door swung open as a man strode in, carrying two lunch boxes in one hand. He was tall and muscular, with striking features, sharp eyebrows and piercing eyes. His military uniform exuded an air of authority. Every inch of him radiated the vigor of youth. This was my husband, Tyler Davenport. But how had he become so young? Confused, I stared at Tyler, unable to look away. Before I could make sense of it, he was at my bedside, his face etched with worry and urgency. In one swift motion, he scooped me up from the bed. The fresh scent of soap filled my nostrils as his concerned voice, tinged with severity, reached my ears. “Your water broke and you didn’t call anyone? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? You could’ve risked both your lives!” As we passed through the living room, my eyes caught the calendar on the wall. My heart raced as my fingers unconsciously gripped the rough fabric. I had been reborn, back to the day I gave birth. In my past life, I had labored for over two hours to bring this child into the world. Tyler immediately gave the baby to his war buddy. He lied to me, saying our child was too weak and didn’t survive. I believed him, blaming myself for being unable to keep our baby alive. Later, I discovered the truth by chance, but when I tried to get my child back, Tyler blocked me at every turn. When I confronted him, his face was cold, his words matter-of-fact. “George lost his chance to be a father while saving my life. I owe him this child. “He’ll never have another kid, but we can have plenty more. Gwen, forget about that baby. It’s better for everyone if we just pretend it didn’t make it.” “It’s better for everyone?” I scoffed inwardly. “It’s better for you!” That was my child, carried for nine months and born through my pain. It was not some gift to repay his kindness! I had a huge fight with Tyler and set out to find my baby. But Tyler’s influence grew. His power became almost limitless. He always managed to cut off any leads I found. My efforts were in vain. Living with the pain and regret of losing my child, I died of a broken heart before I even hit 45. Then, by some miracle, I got a second chance at life. This time, I swore, no one would take my baby from me! The joy of rebirth overwhelmed me. My heart raced, and my breathing quickened. No, I couldn’t let Tyler be the only one with me when I gave birth. I was due any day now. “Wait,” I said through gritted teeth, fighting the pain. “Send a telegram to my family. Ask my mother to come take care of me. This is my first child. I’m terrified.” I tilted my head back, catching only the sharp line of Tyler’s jaw. He chuckled softly, looking down at me. “It’s harvest season. Your mother probably can’t spare the time. Don’t worry, I’m your husband. I’ll make sure you and the baby are safe.” As he spoke, he gathered the supplies for the delivery. My heart sank. Next door, Samantha Moore heard the commotion. She opened her door and called out, “Is Gwen in labor? Do you need any help?” Samantha was the partner of a high-ranking government official. She was known for her warmth and fairness. We got along well. With her around, it would be harder for Tyler to try anything suspicious. A flicker of hope sparked in my chest. With a trembling voice, I pleaded, “Samantha, could you please come with me to the hospital? It’s my first time having a baby, and I’m so nervous my heart’s about to jump out of my chest.”

Samantha set down the half-finished shoe insole and flashed a warm smile. “Of course! I’ll go with you. You two are first-time parents, so you’re bound to be all over the place. I can help make sure things go smoothly.” Her quick agreement made my anxiety ease a bit. But just as I started to relax, Tyler’s cool voice came from above. He politely declined Samantha’s offer with well-reasoned arguments. “Samantha, Ryan is still little. He needs you around. What would he do if you went to the hospital? Besides, it’s not good for kids to spend too much time in a place with so many people coming and going.” Ryan was Samantha’s youngest, just two years old and full of energy. Tyler’s words struck a chord with her. As a mother, her children always came first. Samantha began to waver. Sensing this, Tyler pressed his advantage, determined to put her mind at ease. He smiled, “I’ve already checked out the hospital. I know the place inside and out. Plus, I’m a grown man – I can take care of my wife and kid. Don’t worry about a thing, Samantha.” Samantha nodded repeatedly, clearly convinced. My heart, which had been half-settled, now raced with renewed anxiety. Spurred by a wave of pain, I reached for Samantha’s hand, my voice pleading. “Samantha, I’m in so much pain and I’m scared. Could you please come with me to the hospital?” I repeatedly expressed my fears. It was infuriating that no one knew about Tyler’s plan, and even if I said it now, no one would believe me. After all, how could a normal person secretly give away his child without telling his wife? In my past life, I’d been brainwashed into thinking the kid was dead. If I hadn’t stumbled across that money transfer, I’d never have known how “selfless” and “noble” my husband was, giving away his own child. I was in so much pain that I was sweating profusely, my lips pale. I looked pitiful. Samantha’s face showed sympathy, and she was about to agree. “Alright, I guess I could…” At that moment, a child’s loud cry rang out from Samantha’s house. A boy, about seven or eight years old, ran out calling for help. “Mom! The baby pooped all over himself and the bed. It stinks!” Samantha’s face fell, her priorities instantly shifting. She gave an embarrassed smile. “Oh Gwen, I’m so sorry. There’s always something going on at home. I can’t get away right now, but I promise I’ll visit you at the hospital after you give birth. With Tyler by your side, I’m not worried about you at all.” If only she knew that Tyler was exactly why I was worried! The baby’s cries grew louder. Samantha hurried back inside to comfort the child. Tyler carefully adjusted his hold on me, still wearing that “I’ve got everything under control” expression. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you,” he said. The pain was too much for me to speak. I just rolled my eyes at him from the safety of his arms. Then, wrapping my arms around his neck, I sank my teeth into the soft flesh of his throat. “Ouch…” Tyler hissed through his teeth. I felt a surge of satisfaction hearing him in pain. Why should I be the only one suffering? This baby was half his doing, after all. My small act of revenge did little to lift the heaviness in my heart. A sense of helpless dread was threatening to overwhelm me, knowing the dangers that lay ahead but being powerless to avoid them. But I couldn’t just accept my fate. Surely, I wasn’t given this second chance just to repeat the mistakes of my past life! I released Tyler’s neck and leaned against his shoulder, gathering my strength. With Samantha out of the picture, the hospital was my last hope. We made our way down the stairs and through the residential complex. A car was already waiting for us at the main gate. Tyler carried me steadily, his grip never faltering. People stared as we passed, their eyes a mix of envy and admiration. “Mr. Davenport is so capable and thoughtful,” I overheard someone say. “I heard he took two weeks off work to take care of Gwen. Why can’t my husband be more like him?” “Humph, why does Gwen get such special treatment?” someone chimed in. “I remember when I went into labor, I was still out there husking corn. I gave birth right then and there. And when I went home, I had to carry the baby and half a basket of corn on my back!” In my past life, I thought they were just jealous, and I felt so lucky. Now, their words drip with irony. Tyler, the man everyone saw as the perfect husband, was planning to steal my baby out of some twisted sense of obligation. When I confronted him, he had the nerve to suggest I should have more children. In my previous life, I trusted Tyler completely. I never realized how dangerous it was to give birth without family by my side. This time around, I was still alone and helpless. The only difference was that now I knew what he was planning.

In the car, Tyler held me close, whispering words of comfort while repeatedly urging the driver to go faster. His face was a mask of concern as if he’d gladly take my place if he could. The perfect picture of a devoted husband. I closed my eyes to rest with a faint, sardonic smile. “Tyler,” I wondered, “is all this fuss really about my safety and the baby’s? Or are you just worried that if something goes wrong with the child, you won’t be able to repay your war buddy’s life-saving favor? Every day this baby isn’t handed over is another day of torment for your conscience, isn’t it?” The rest of the journey passed in silence. At the hospital, I was rushed into the delivery room. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights made my eyes ache. Drawing on my experience from a past life, I focused on controlling my breathing and pushing rhythm. I lost track of time as the pain washed over me. Suddenly, I felt a release, as if something had slipped away from my body. “Waaah!” The baby’s clear cry rang out once, then abruptly stopped. “Why isn’t my baby crying?” I thought and struggled to sit up, catching only a glimpse of a nurse hurrying away. “My baby! Where are you taking my child?” I cried out. I tried to follow, but the doctor firmly held me down on the delivery bed. His mask covered most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible. They held a familiar look of pity. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but your baby was stillborn. For your own health, you shouldn’t experience extreme emotions right after giving birth. It’s best to let your husband handle the arrangements for the child.” My heart froze and burned with anger. It was clear now – Tyler had bought off the doctor and nurses before I even went into labor. No matter what condition I or the baby were in after birth, they would all stick to the same story. The baby didn’t make it. In my previous life, I’d passed out from exhaustion and believed every word from Tyler and the medical staff. But now, living through this a second time, I saw right through Tyler’s plan. I didn’t believe a single word they said. “Hang on, my little one,” I thought to myself. “Mommy will find you. I promise.” With fury in my eyes, I slapped the doctor’s hand away and demanded, “I heard my baby cry! Where have you taken my child?” The doctor, unfazed by the blow, shook his head with a resigned look. “Several babies were born around the same time as yours. It’s easy to get confused. You’re still young. Once you’ve recovered, you can have more children.” The words and tone were all too familiar. The doctor’s face kept shifting before my eyes. One moment, I was back in military housing, surrounded by gossiping wives. “Gwen, dear, you can always have another baby. But if you lose your marriage, you lose everything.” “Don’t be angry with Mr. Davenport. Giving up the baby hurts him too. That man saved his life, which was a debt that outweighs everything. How can he be at peace if he doesn’t repay it?” Then, it was Tyler’s impatient face. “Gwen, how long are you going to keep this up? George can’t have children anymore because he saved me. I owe him. “It’s only right that I give him a child to care for him in his old age.” I clenched my fists, crumpling the sheets beneath me. It seemed like Tyler was the only person in the world who had it tough. Tyler was tortured by guilt over the debt he owed George for saving his life. That was why he felt compelled to give away his own son to ease his conscience. He was so conflicted, so anguished. And I, as Tyler’s wife, was apparently committing a grave sin. Instead of joyfully handing our child over to George without a second thought, I kept causing trouble, constantly demanding we find and bring our baby home. I was turning our household upside down, driving Tyler to his wit’s end. How utterly unforgivable of me! Those women were quick to advise me to give up on the child. Of course, it was easy for them to preach generosity. It wasn’t their baby at stake. Tyler, that shameless man, had the audacity to unzip his pants and offer to “bless” me with another child. He made it sound so simple. He wouldn’t be the one enduring nine months of pregnancy, so naturally, he could use our baby to repay his debt. All to clear his conscience and earn a reputation for gratitude. How convenient for him. But no one had asked if I was willing. All the resentment, heartache, and frustration from my past and present lives erupted at once. Suddenly, I felt filled with strength. That was my child. No one could take it away! I grabbed the doctor’s collar, using him for support as I sat up. My scream was hoarse with rage. “What gives you the right to say my baby is dead? I want proof! If you’ve got nothing to hide, why won’t you let me see my child?” The doctor’s face turned red as the collar tightened around his neck. A nearby nurse rushed over to pry my fingers loose. The doctor cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from the ordeal. “Ahem! The patient is becoming hysterical. We need a sedative, stat!” He had just managed to break free from the restraints. Rubbing his sore wrists, he croaked out orders to the nurse. The nurse swiftly handed him a syringe and pushed me back down onto the bed. The doctor pressed the plunger, the sharp needle glinting as it moved towards me.

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On the day I married Jasper Hawthorne, my younger sister, Fiona Winslow, died. After her death, Jasper, who had twice rejected her love, suddenly realized he had been in love with her all along. He turned all his anger on me, calling me the one who drove her to her death, saying I deserved nothing but misery for the rest of my life. Even my mother hated me. She screamed at me again and again, “Elara, why wasn’t it you who died?” But later, when I was really dying, they begged me to hold on and live.

My best friend, Ava Gibson, was a mistress dissuasion expert. I lent her money to open a studio, but her first business deal was to discourage me from continuing with my husband. “Scarlett Walker, what’s the point of a loveless marriage? You’ve already wasted five years of Samuel Wright’s time. Do you still want to pester him and make him feel disgusted by you for the rest of his life?” she said. I was so amused by her nonsense that I asked the security guard to kick her out of my office. However, she brought the so-called “Anti-Mistress Alliance” to protest me while live streaming. “The one who is not loved is the mistress! Defend freedom of love!” They shouted slogans and smashed my company. I watched them calmly until they were tired of messing around. Then, I took out the IOU and declared to Ava, “The one million dollars you borrowed from me has been overdue for half a year. If you don’t pay it back, I will sue you. “In addition, the scientific research equipment you just smashed is worth 37 million dollars. Please compensate for the original price. “Otherwise, see you in court!” ***** During lunch break, Ava came to my company. “Scarlett, I have something to discuss with you about my work.” She sat upright with a serious expression. I understood what she came here for and directly picked up the phone. “How much money do you need this time?” Ava majored in psychology. Since it was hard to find a job after graduation, she decided to start her own business. I was not short of money but understood the hardships of starting a business. Whenever she asked for my help, I would give her money. After all, she was my only friend. Ava flushed awkwardly. “No, I’m not asking you to borrow me money.” I was slightly startled and asked, “Then, what do you want?” My work and hers had nothing in common. Apart from borrowing money, I really wondered what other work-related matters she wanted to discuss with me. Taking a deep breath, she finally made up her mind and said, “Scarlett, you know I’m a mistress dissuading expert. I received a commission a few days ago, which is… To persuade you to stop interrupting others’ relationships.” I was stunned and couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I got married to Samuel as soon as we graduated from college, and both our parents and friends knew each other very well. I was pretty sure I was not his mistress. How could she possibly receive the commission against me? “Wait, what? Samuel and I have been married for three years. How could I end up becoming his mistress?” I said. Ava stared at me and looked more and more stern. “Scarlett, although you are Samuel’s legal wife, it is now obvious that he has had an affair. Why don’t you give up confining him to you?” I looked at her in disbelief. “So, you are entrusted by Samuel’s mistress to persuade me, the original wife, to divorce him?” As a mistress dissuasion expert, Ava should convince those women who were ruining other’s families to quit, but she actually persuaded me, Samuel’s legal wife, to give my husband to his mistress. This was the first time I questioned Ava’s decency. Ava looked calm and nodded. Then, she said righteously, “Scarlett, don’t get me wrong. If it happened to someone else, I wouldn’t have accepted this mission. But you’re my friend, I can’t let you get stuck in this.” I was so confused that I reached for my phone. “Let me ask Samuel first.” I didn’t believe that Samuel, that dull but righteous guy, would cheat on his wife. He worked in my research institute, and the only place he went after work was our home. I really couldn’t believe he cheated on me. However, Ava stopped me and said, “Scarlett, will a man admit to cheating on you? What’s the point of asking him?” I frowned. “What do you mean?” “Divorce him!” Ava said firmly, “What else can you say to a bastard like this!” I looked at her anxious face and asked after a moment of silence, “Tell me who his mistress is.” Ava decisively refused. “No, I have to keep it confidential for my client.” I laughed at her angrily. “You neither told me who his mistress was, nor let me confirm it with Samuel. ​The only thing you want me to do is to divorce him without any virtual evidence. How can I believe you?” Ava nodded as a matter of course. “But I am your only friend. I won’t hurt you.” I looked at her, and my heart sank. In the past, whenever Ava brought up that she was my only friend as an excuse, I would always agree to her request unconditionally. But this was not a reason for her to force me to divorce. After a moment, I shook my head. “No, I can’t do it.” Ava stared at me with a hint of threat. “Scarlett, I have many ways to make you divorce voluntarily without any property divided, but I don’t want to use those against you, do you understand?” I know Ava’s methods. She would find a man to seduce those mistresses and get some sensitive pictures or videos as evidence to force them to cut off with those married men. I really didn’t expect that she would plot against me with those means.

I looked at my old friend and felt extremely disappointed. If she came here only to inform me that Samuel cheated on me, I would believe she did that out of kindness. But as she forced me to divorce without allowing me to verify the facts and even threatened me with her dirty means, I had to doubt her real intentions. I couldn’t help but recall that when Samuel and I began to date, Ava always complained about him. She believed that Samuel buying me breakfast was his gaslighting skill. When Samuel bought me expensive gifts, she said he was using money to seduce me while calling me a gold digger with his pals. Even when Samuel proposed to me, she pointed out countless mistakes on the spot. I recalled in silence and became more and more severe. Seeing me in silence, Ava seemed confident in succeeding. She stood up and grabbed my wrist. “Let’s go. I can just go home with you to get the documents, and you call Samuel to divorce.” I came to my senses and shook off her hand. “No, I can’t divorce him just based on your one-sided words.” She looked at me in surprise, never expecting me to reject her again. “Scarlett! I’m doing this for your own good!” Her voice suddenly rose. “Samuel has cheated on you and doesn’t love you anymore! Why are you still clinging to him?” Her face distorted like the fierce beast that I had ever seen. She looked so strange to me now. Compared to Ava, who lost her temper, I couldn’t help but feel partial to my husband who said “I love you” dozens of times this morning. “You must listen to me! Divorce Samuel now!” Ava yelled and grabbed me again. I had been spending all year in the laboratory and couldn’t compete with Ava in terms of strength. I couldn’t get rid of her grip. However, I just asked for my assistant, Charlie Evans. Charlie rushed into my office and pulled Ava away. “Scarlett! You actually let him touch me?” Ava looked insane and stared at me like a devil. I rubbed my wrist that was hurt by her grip and said seriously, “I don’t need you to make decisions about my family affairs. I have other things to do at the company. Goodbye” After saying that, I gestured to Charlie to take her away. She stared at me angrily and sneered. “Okay, Scarlett, don’t blame me if anything happens to you!” I thought she was just threatening. After all, we had been friends for so many years, and even if she was mad at me for a now, it was unlikely for her to really turn against me. It turned out that I overestimated my friendship with her. I also underestimated her bottom line. Taking a sip of water, Charlie brought me bad news when I was thinking about how to question Samuel. “Ms. Walker! Ms. Gibson came back with some…” Charlie looked embarrassed and hesitated to continue. I frowned. “What did she bring here?” “They held up a banner and called themselves…” Charlie said, “Anti-mistress alliance.” I spat out a mouthful of water on the table and was extremely stunned. “They were downstairs, holding banners and shouting with loud speakers in a live stream…” Charlie reported to me, placing an iPad in front of me. In the live stream, Ava was in the center of the crowd, followed by a bunch of burly men. They held up a banner of the Anti-Mistress Alliance and even got my company’s logo on the camera. “The president of the Walker Pharmaceutical Company, Scarlett, took a girl’s boyfriend!” she shouted. In the camera, Ava looked indignant and sad, but he spoke coherently, and each word of her words hit the nail. “I am a mistress dissuading expert and also a good friend of Scarlett. However, I learned from one of my clients that she seduced her boyfriend! “Although I am her best friend, I absolutely cannot tolerate such immoral behavior. This is the basic quality of a psychiatrist! “Just now, I tried to persuade Scarlett to leave that man… But she asked her secretary to throw me out and refused to listen to me.” The live stream turned exuberant with more than ten thousand viewers, and the number of audience was still rising. Netizen A: [Is it the city’s signature enterprise, the Walker Pharmaceutical Company?] Netizen B: [Isn’t this company devoted to charity? Why do they have a bitch boss?] Netizen C: [I told you a woman could never be a manager. She must sleep with her bosses to gain her position.] Netizen D: [Shameless mistress! Boycott the Walker Pharmaceutical Company!] Looking at the surging comments, I felt annoyed. Ava was really my good friend. She knew very well how to hurt me. My company was going public soon, so we cannot afford any negative news. If the listing failed because of this shit, it would be more severe for me to make it up!

In the live stream, Ava suddenly wiped the corners of his eyes and changed the subject. “Scarlett, I know you still love him, but please think about those people you hurt. You broke up their happiness. It’s really not cool to do this. Everyone makes mistakes. As long as you correct them in time, I believe everyone will forgive you.” She said that with tears, looking like a saint who was thinking about me wholeheartedly and trying to persuade me to turn back to the right path. I couldn’t help but sneer as I listened to her nonsense. She was smart that she told the netizens she was here to persuade a man’s legal wife to divorce her husband. Hearing her words, anyone would be convinced that I was the mistress. Moreover, she kept saying that she exposed this matter under her real name, so why didn’t she mention her own name at all? Netizen A: [stop trying. She is a bitch, and it’s useless to make her regretful only by talking!] Netizen B: [Just go in and smash her company.] Netizen C: [That’s right! Destroy her company so that she will know the consequences of ruining people’s relationships!] Countless online judges in the comments were supporting her. Ava’s eyes lit up, and she said immediately, “Okay! The anti-mistress alliance will enforce justice today!” After saying that, she waved at those robust men and rampaged into my company. “Ms. Walker, what should we do?” Charlie was a young girl who had just graduated. She had never seen such a mess and was a little panicked. I responded calmly, “Send a message in the company group and inform everyone to leave through the safe passage. Every employee gets paid leave today. Tell them to run away as far as possible in case they get hurt.” “Also, don’t let any of them post anything online. I will handle this,” I added. She immediately nodded and carried out my order. I continued staring at the live stream. The strong men Ava brought with her were really good at looting and smashing things. They kicked open the gate and swarmed into my company like gangs. They smashed everything they saw, and even the plant next to the elevator was also ruined. Fortunately, they didn’t see the employees. Netizen A: [Why isn’t anyone here working? The Walker Pharmaceutical Company must be a briefcase company!] Netizen B: [Just destroy everything here! Make that bitch lose her job!] Netizen C: [Smash those expensive equipment! No, stop kicking that plant! Choose their computers!] Perhaps encouraged by the comments, those people went crazy and smashed several computers at workstations. They even approached the laboratory. Ava said to the camera, “I know this is the safest place in the entire company. Scarlett must be hiding here!” She insisted on saying that even though she knew exactly I was in my office. So, she was here to destroy my lab. Netizen A: [Open that door and kill that bitch!] Netizen B: [That’s what you get as a mistress, Scarlett!] Netizen C: [Kill that bitch! Kill that bitch!] The netizens were celebrating, and the number of viewers had soared to over a hundred thousand. I watched them violently break into the laboratory and smash those expensive equipment. Fortunately, the laboratory moved to a new location the day before yesterday, and there were only two instruments that had not been moved away in time; plus, there was no data in them. I calculated the losses in my mind and estimated that it was enough for these thugs to be imprisoned, so I stood up and walked out of the office. “What are you doing? That’s a pharmaceutical laboratory! The equipment inside is worth tens of millions. Put that down!” I tried to stop them from committing the crime in a hurry. “Scarlett, you finally came out,” she said. Ava turned the camera towards me with a smug look on his face but pleaded to me humbly, “Don’t be mad at me, I’m doing this for your own good. Since I can’t stop you by myself, I can only call on the netizens to save you before you make bigger mistakes!” I looked at the messy laboratory and the burly men with bulging pockets with a frown and said, “You are maliciously damaging my property, and I suspect you are stealing something from my lab.” “Scarlett! Stop changing the topic!” Ava looked disappointed. “Don’t you understand that you are doing something immoral by interfering in other people’s relationships?” I stared at her and clarified, “You mean that I interfere in my legal husband’s relationship with another girl?”

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Three days from now, I was supposed to get engaged to my girlfriend. When I went to pick up the veil from the store, I saw a loving couple trying on wedding attire. I felt touched by their love until I realized, to my shock, that the bride-to-be was my girlfriend, and the man beside her was her ex. The sales assistant beamed at them and said, “You two are the most perfect couple I’ve ever seen.” They exchanged a smile, one that spoke of a world that only belonged to the two of them. Unable to contain myself, I interjected, “Your wedding must be a grand affair. Don’t forget to send me two invitations. I’ll be bringing my fiancée.” My girlfriend’s face went pale with panic. After picking up the veil, I passed by a bridal shop. Through the window, I saw a tender scene unfold inside. A bride-to-be stood before a mirror, her groom holding her hand tightly. Their gazes were locked onto each other. They seemed so intimately connected. Three days from now, I would be engaged to my girlfriend, Estella Quimby. I couldn’t help but compare Estella to the woman inside, and I still thought my girlfriend was more beautiful. I believed our love would be sweeter than theirs. I was already impatient to see Estella in a wedding gown. Perhaps I was anticipating too much because suddenly, I found myself imagining Estella as that bride in the shop. Then, I froze. As the image cleared, I realized that the bride was indeed Estella. The man beside her sent a chill through my heart. I recognized him—it was Marlon Faulkner, Estella’s ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t help but walk into the shop. The sales assistants were still chatting away, “You two are the most perfect couple I’ve ever seen.” “Oh, the groom is so generous, buying such an expensive wedding dress without a second thought.” “Indeed, it’s so costly! Such a waste to wear it only once.” Estella playfully tapped Marlon, but her eyes were filled with happiness. Marlon held her hand, his gaze tender yet firm. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime moment for us. I don’t want you to have any regrets. And one day, our daughter can wear this dress too, so she knows just how much her parents loved each other.” “I’m not giving you a daughter; I’m having a son.” “As long as it’s yours, I’ll love them either way.” The sales assistants sighed in admiration. Their sweet words were enough to make anyone envious. I stood there, watching my girlfriend plan a future with another man, a future that already included children. Estella had told me she didn’t want kids and even asked me to have a vasectomy before our engagement to prove my love for her. I knew Estella wasn’t deeply in love with me. But in this day and age, finding someone you like isn’t easy. I figured I shouldn’t dwell on who loved whom more. But now, this scene before me was like a knife to the heart. Forcing a smile, I stepped forward. “Your wedding is bound to be lively. Don’t forget to invite me.” It was only then that Estella noticed me, her smile freezing on her face. Marlon immediately pulled Estella closer, asking me sharply, “Who are you?” I threw the question back to Estella. “Why don’t you tell him who I am?” Everyone waited for her answer. Estella couldn’t bring herself to look at me. Finally, in a low voice, she said, “He’s just a colleague.” She didn’t even say I was a friend. A coldness spread through my chest. I had wanted to confront her, but when she gave that answer, I realized the reasons didn’t matter anymore. After all, my soon-to-be fiancée was pretending not to know me for the sake of another man. Suppressing the pain in my heart, I smiled and said, “Please make sure to send me two invitations. I’ll bring my fiancée.” Then, I turned and walked out. Estella didn’t come after me. Looking back, I saw Marlon whisper something in Estella’s ear, and she laughed. Without me, the uninvited guest, their happiness was restored. Marlon gently placed his hand on Estella’s waist. She didn’t mind and even helped straighten his collar. Their actions were so natural and intimate as if they were long accustomed to them. At that moment, I was nothing more than an outsider, watching this romance that had nothing to do with me from outside the window.

A few hours later, I received a notification on my phone about a charge. The message stated that two hundred and thirty thousand dollars had been spent, and the recipient was the bridal shop where I had caught Estella earlier. So, in the end, I paid for the wedding dress they tried on. I immediately dialed Estella’s number, my fingers trembling slightly with rage. But all I got was the cold sound of an automated message. She wasn’t picking up. I tried several more times, each with the same result. By the seventh call, I laughed in anger. “How could I forget?” I thought to myself. “Of course, I’ve probably been blocked by now.” This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. In the past, she would often disappear without a word. No matter how many times I called, she wouldn’t answer. In the end, I would get so anxious that I’d borrow someone else’s phone to call her, and she’d pick up right away. Later, when I asked her why she didn’t answer my calls and if she knew how worried I was, she dismissively said, “I just don’t want you checking up on me. If I block you, I can have fun without being bothered.” Now, I finally understood. To her, I was nothing more than an annoyance. That’s why she could so easily brush off my concern as interference. One after another, deduction notifications kept popping up on my phone. “She doesn’t need me,” I thought. “She just needs the limitless supplementary card I gave her. She must be having a great time.” “She’s probably having an even better time spending my money with her ex-boyfriend.” “I’ve basically become their ATM.” My phone buzzed again. I received a new notification about another charge. This time, she had dropped one hundred and twenty thousand dollars in one go at a bar. I grabbed my car keys and drove straight to that bar. The place was dimly lit, filled with a deafening mix of music and voices. When I finally spotted them, Estella was leaning drunkenly against Marlon, feeding him drinks from her glass. I couldn’t help but clench my fists, feeling the anger flare up inside me once more. Estella caught sight of me and immediately looked annoyed. “Ugh, here comes the killjoy.” Her voice was slurred with drunkenness, but I could hear every word clearly. I stood there, my body stiff with anger and humiliation, my breath growing heavy. Marlon, on the other hand, wore a smug expression, his eyes taunting me under the dim lights. I asked her, “Estella, don’t you have anything to say?” She took a casual sip of her drink and replied, “I’m just out with friends having a drink. Don’t you have friends? Can’t you see?” A group of people I didn’t know chimed in mockingly, “Yeah, man. Why so uptight? Come have a drink with us!” Estella always acted like a haughty little princess in front of me. She never spoke to me kindly. Even in front of a crowd, she’d always have to jab at me, never caring about my dignity. With those sycophantic friends around, she got even more brazen. “I wanted to tell you earlier today that Marlon’s getting married tomorrow. Tonight is his last night as a single man, and as his friend, of course, I want him to have a great time. Why are you being so petty? You caused a scene during the day, and now you’re here at night to drag me away. “How am I supposed to have any fun like this?” Others started criticizing me, too. “Yeah, man.” “It’s Marlon’s last night of freedom. You’re ruining the mood for everyone.” “Wow, what a control freak. Can’t even let his girlfriend have a good time?” Their accusations, mixed with the blaring music, drowned me. Estella watched coldly from the sidelines. Seeing things spiral further out of control, Marlon decided to play the good guy. “Alright, everyone, that’s enough. Let me say something. I’m sure he’s just worried, that’s all.” The crowd fell silent immediately. He pretended to be friendly and patted my shoulder. I recoiled in disgust, but he didn’t get angry. “Don’t worry. When Estella is with me, I’ll always take good care of her. You can go home and relax now.” As soon as he finished, all eyes turned to me as if they were all urging me to leave. I looked helplessly at Estella. But her expression was the same. My heart shattered, piece by piece. In the end, I gave up resisting, said nothing, and turned to leave. Behind me, their cheers erupted. “Woohoo! Let’s keep drinking, everyone!” “Let’s make this night unforgettable!”

Estella didn’t come home all night. It wasn’t until noon that she stumbled through the door. Clearly, she was still hungover. She barged in without a care, knocking over various items, but she didn’t seem to notice. She staggered her way through the house and finally collapsed onto the bed. I stood there, watching her as she fell into a deep sleep. A ridiculous thought flashed through my mind, “At least she still knows to come home.” But then, I saw a love bite on her neck. The swollen red mark told the story of Estella’s reckless night. It was unmistakably Marlon’s way of mocking me, a brazen insult. I had been the one who pursued Estella in the first place. Back in school, she and Marlon were a famous couple, and their breakup was the talk of the campus. I had fallen for her at first sight during my freshman year. When I heard they had broken up, I seized the chance and began pursuing Estella with relentless passion. At first, she was indifferent to me, but eventually, out of all her suitors, she accepted only my gifts. That gave me hope. I tried even harder, and finally, I won her heart. Estella told me she broke up with Marlon because he had cheated on her. She was heartbroken and had lost faith in love. So, she needed me to constantly prove my love for her. I did everything I could to show her how much I cared. But in the end, I realized that whenever Marlon beckoned, Estella would run back to him without hesitation. All my efforts had become a joke. Now, I could no longer deceive myself. I knew it was time to face the reality that this relationship was beyond saving. Estella hadn’t been asleep long before she woke up and started making noise again. When she saw the mess she’d left from the night before, she looked very displeased. “Where’s Dora? Why hasn’t she cleaned up all this trash?” I stopped her. “Estella, we need to talk.” She frowned and sidestepped me. She wore that all-too-familiar look of impatience. “I don’t have time to listen to your nonsense right now.” But I insisted. “Last night\.\.\.” She cut me off immediately. “There you go again about last night. Aren’t you tired of it? You want to know about the wedding dress? It was just a gift. Isn’t it normal to give a friend a gift when they’re getting married?” I thought, “Sure, giving a gift is normal, but a wedding dress? Giving a wedding dress to your ex-boyfriend is definitely not normal.” “As for the drinking, it was just a normal gathering among friends. There were a lot of people there. Stop overthinking it.” I thought, “Drinking with friends is normal, but the way you two were all over each other, and the way they kicked me out—none of that is normal.” I had given up, hoping for a reasonable explanation. Frustrated, I said, “If you hate me so much, then let’s just…” But Estella had already gathered her things and completely lost her patience. “Ugh, I’m done. I’m leaving. I’m not talking to you anymore. I’m going to Marlon’s wedding tonight. You don’t like him anyway, so there’s no need for you to come. “Just stay home and take some time to cool off.” With that, she headed straight for the door, not giving me another chance to speak. The door slammed shut in my face. The room suddenly fell silent. I stood there, waves of bitterness rising within me. Her indifference was unbearable. Compared to Marlon, she didn’t even want to spare me a glance. I thought, “She’s so eager to go to the wedding. But is Marlon really having a wedding tonight?” I started to suspect that this might just be a false rumor Marlon had spread to lure Estella in. And, of course, Estella would take the bait. She loved him, so of course, she would go. Just as I had guessed, a friend who went to Marlon’s wedding told me the event had been called off. “The bride ran away.” I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” “For real! I saw it with my own eyes. Marlon’s fiancée was Scarlett Ramirez, the daughter of the CEO of the Ramirez Group. Rumor has it she ran away for an old flame. But that guy’s already engaged too.” I hadn’t expected this at all. I knew Scarlett. We had even gone on a few dates arranged by our families. From what I remember, she was a very gentle girl. The Ramirez Group and our Haynes Group had business ties, so us being together would have made perfect sense. But back then, all I could think about was Estella, so I turned it down. I never imagined such a quiet girl would pull off a stunt like running away from her own wedding. I couldn’t help but wonder who that old flame was that had driven her to such extremes. I thought, “Sure enough, love makes people do things they never would.” That night, Estella didn’t come home. I wasn’t even surprised anymore. In my mind, I was already making excuses for her. I guessed she’d probably say, “My friend is going through a tough time. Isn’t it only right for me to be there for him?” I thought bitterly, “When she decided to be there for Marlon, did she think about me even for a second?” I laughed at myself. I didn’t know why. Even now, I was still trying to find excuses for her. I knew all of this was already meaningless.

The next day was Saturday. Estella’s mother, Marina Quimby, had Alzheimer’s, and her condition had been worsening recently. To spend more time with Marina, we’d agreed to have lunch together every Saturday. Even though I was upset with Estella, I couldn’t just ignore Marina. Before she fell ill, she had always treated me very kindly. I adjusted my mood and went to the nursing home anyway. I hadn’t expected to see Estella there. She glanced up at me, her face expressionless, as if she wasn’t planning to explain anything about yesterday, or even wanted me there at all. “I thought after all the drama you caused yesterday, you wouldn’t show up today.” “I’m here to see Mrs. Quimby.” Estella wasn’t having it. “Well, she doesn’t even recognize you anymore.” I didn’t quite understand what she meant until I heard a voice calling from inside, “Kylian, help me out.” Just as I was about to respond, a voice answered quicker than mine, “Of course, Mrs. Quimby.” In a moment, Marina was helped out of the room. The person supporting her was Marlon. I hadn’t expected Estella to bring him here. I stood there, frozen. Marina seemed delighted, holding Marlon’s hand and asking with concern. “Kylian, I saved some grapes for you—your favorite. I’ve been waiting for you to come and eat them. Have you been working hard lately? Thank you so much for visiting me even when you’re so busy.” Marina had mistaken Marlon for me, thinking he was the one who had always cared for her. It felt like a massive weight pressed down on my chest. I finally understood what Estella had meant earlier. She thought I was easily replaceable. And reality had proven her right. It felt like a hard slap across my face. I realized coming here was just a foolish attempt on my part. I knew if I stayed any longer, I’d only be making a fool of myself. I turned to leave. But Marina seemed to sense something. She shook off Marlon’s hand and suddenly began shouting, “Where is Kylian? Where is Kylian?” “Mrs. Quimby, I’m Kylian.” “Mom, Kylian is right here.” No matter how Estella and Marlon tried to calm her down, Marina only became more agitated. I stopped in my tracks and handed an apple to Marina. She took the apple, and slowly, she began to calm down. Marina looked up and studied me carefully as if trying to match my face to some image buried in her memories. She still didn’t recognize me, but there was an inexplicable kindness in her eyes. “Young man, who are you? Stay and have lunch with us.” Marlon, seemingly wanting to make me uncomfortable, played along, pretending to be the host. “Yes, join us for lunch.” Marina shot him a glare. “Kylian, why are you so talkative today? You’re not as pleasant as you used to be.” I couldn’t help but laugh at Marina’s words. I realized that while Marina mistook Marlon for me, she could still sense the difference between us. During lunch, Marina kept asking about me and showing concern. Estella tried to butt in but never got the chance. “Young man, are you married?” “No.” “Do you have a girlfriend?” I was silent for a couple of seconds, then firmly shook my head. “We broke up.” Estella’s fork slipped from her hand. She stared at me, wide-eyed, in disbelief. Marina’s eyes suddenly seemed clearer. She sighed and looked at me with affection. “It’s good you broke up. It’s good. Silly boy, you need to take care of yourself.” After the torment of the past few days, her warm words nearly brought tears to my eyes. But before I could shed a tear, Estella, disregarding her mother’s presence, angrily blurted out, “Kylian, what’s that supposed to mean? Are you trying to humiliate me in front of my mom?” I looked at this woman I had loved for six years, now so unfamiliar, and shook my head again, saying, “No, I’m serious. Let’s break up.” My voice was calm and resolute, with no trace of wavering. I made a final judgment on our relationship with a sense of detachment.

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On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband proposed to his bestie, and the video of him putting a ten-carat diamond ring on her became a hot topic. He sent me a message saying that she was with a client and couldn’t come back for dinner. I looked down at my empty ring finger and the food I had prepared all day. I felt like I had become a huge joke.

Heading to a meeting with my boss, I unexpectedly ran into his nemesis, who shot me a few glances. My boss raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. He asked me, “Do you know him?” I shrugged, replying, “Not really.” But after the meeting wrapped up, the dashing man cornered me against the restroom wall and kissed me fiercely. He murmured, his breath warm against my cheek, “We share a bed every night. You say you don’t know me?”

“You’ll just have to get Ariel pregnant immediately. That way she’ll be chained to you forever.” my fiancé’s father’s voice is cold, calculating. “She knows her place.” my fiancé replies. “She’ll fall in line and become a proper wife in short time.” My heart sinks when I realize that they’re talking about me – and not as a soon-to-be newlywed Princess, but just as…as some kind of surrogate. All my life I’ve been the perfect Princess – learning manners, diplomacy, and always flashing the perfect smile for the camera. Today I’m going to take the biggest step I can towards helping my nation: I’m going to marry the Prince of Gangidor to build the military alliance. For one more extra rehearsal of our immediate wedding, I snuck into the prince’s private suite and overheard the conversation that shocked me. The King, my Prince’s father, chuckles darkly. “Don’t underestimate her, son. Her claws are too sharp now, you will have to nullify that part of her.” “Sharp claws or not, she’s just a girl,” my fiancé says, his voice thick with derision. “What’s the worst she can do? All she’s been trained for is taking pictures, buying jewelry, and decorating the house, just like mom.” “Ariel Sinclair is not like your mother, who came to me ready to kneel,” his father replies. “This Princess has been over-indulged; her parents and brother have doted on her and allowed her to learn skills that women shouldn’t touch. You’ll have to break her, son, and fast. The best path to that is to get her pregnant tonight.” My jaw drops open in shock, my hand covering my mouth to hold back my appalled gasp. Never – not once has the Prince indicated that he felt this way about women! About me! “Ariel’s a prude,” my fiancé says on a disappointed sigh, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “She barely lets me kiss her, so I don’t think knocking her up tonight is going to happen. ” “There’s a great deal at stake in this, son,” the King snaps, and I silently peek around the door’s edge to see the two men standing in the middle of the room, their arms crossed in their wedding tuxedoes, casually discussing how to break me. Rage mixes with the disgust in the pit of my stomach, turning over and over until I feel sick. “You need this girl under your thumb,” the King continues. “Conquer her, and then all the resources of her kingdom will pass to us. If she won’t submit to you willingly tonight, you will force her.” “She’ll scream! Her guards will come running!” “She won’t,” the king growls. “It’s in the female nature to submit – women are animals, they obey the strong. Just show her that you are her Alpha – she’ll fall to her knees soon enough.” “And if she says no? Or tries to escape?” My Prince turns considering eyes on his father now, clearly encouraged and liking this plan. “There’s no way she can escape from us,” the King growls. “In our Kingdom, we have complete control over women. Even if she will one day be the Queen, Edward, she belongs to you.” Both men’s lips turn upwards in greedy smiles. And me? I almost vomit with fear and disgust. I’m already out of the suite and dashing down the hall, tears streaking down my cheeks as I run away from the Great Hall where I’m supposed to be married. My mind reels with how much my world just fell apart. Too much is tied up in this wedding – and it’s all my fault. I’m the one who pushed for it, wanted to make the political ties that would give us the extra forces we need to end this war even though my mom told me to wait for love. And I want so much to run to her arms now – but if I do that? Then she’s going to tell my dad – Dominic Sinclair, the most powerful Alpha in the entire world – and he will rip that horrible Prince to shreds without thinking twice. And that will start a second war – I sob harder as I run, totally confused -And suddenly as I turn around a familiar corner, I know exactly where I’m going and where I want to be. I hurry my steps, dashing for the old brown door, shoving it open with all my might. The door bangs hard against the wall as I stumble into the room. My brother Rafe and cousin Jesse look up at me with wide, shocked eyes, both of their jaws falling open. “I can’t do it!” I gasp, falling back against the open door, my face a mess of tears. “Ariel!” Rafe gasps, springing to my side and pulling me away from the door, pushing it shut. “What the hell happened!?” Jesse stands and takes me by the hand, leading me over to the couch as I tell them everything in stuttering sobs. Jesse sits next to me, nodding and listening to every word, but Rafe stands at my side, a deep growl growing in his chest as my story progresses. By the time I finish, his whole body is tense and shaking. “I’m going to kill him,” Rafe growls, and he takes one long step towards the door, clearly meaning it. “I’m going to rip his head off –“ “Rafe!” Jesse snaps, leaning forward and grabbing Rafe’s arm before he can get any further. “Calm the hell down.” “So, you run,” Rafe says, pulling his hands away from his face and staring at me. “You leave he at the altar, and the press paint him as the wounded party.” I nod. “Mom and dad can salvage the treaty this way, even without a marriage. But I…I have to disappear, or else Prince will force me into it – I have too much leverage on him now.” “But where the hell will you go, Ariel?” Rafe asks, sitting up, shaking his head. “He’s going to come after you! No matter where you are, he will find you!” “Nah,” I hear Jesse say, and my eyes fly open to see a wicked smirk on his face. “I never liked that guy anyway – he’s a dick. You deserve more than this. Let’s run.” “What?” I gasp, staring at my cousin. “Where?” Jesse just continues to smirk at me. “With us. Rafe and I are enrolling tomorrow anyway – we’ll just leave tonight and take you along to Alpha Academy.” I stare at my cousin for a moment in shock, and then I let out a frantic little laugh and throw myself into his arms because – because that might actually be perfect. This plan gets me out of the palace and I’ll be somewhere that no one – especially not the Prince Edward – will ever expect me to go. A notoriously secretive all-male military academy designed to weed out and train the nation’s toughest Alpha warriors. Alpha Academy.

“You two,” Rafe mutters, and I glance over to see him pressing the bridge of his nose between his fingers, just like dad does. “This is going to cause a damn firestorm that I am going to have to sort out.” “But you’re the best at solving our problems!” Jesse points out, laughing. “Come on, cousin,” he says, giving Rafe a little punch in the arm. “It’s an adventure.” Two hours later we’re in the boxcar of a train headed east, towards the war front where the Academy is located. It was shockingly easy to smuggle me out of the palace once I got rid of the wedding gown. Jesse just gave me some of the clothes he had packed, and after I had rolled the hem of the pants about a dozen times and tied the waist with some ribbon torn off of my gown…honestly, the clothes don’t fit so bad. “Okay,” Rafe murmurs, leaning back into the hay that fills the boxcar, grimacing as he types out messages on his phone. “Mom and Dad are on board.” “They are?” I ask, wide-eyed with surprise. “I mean,” Rafe says, flicking his eyes at me, “I didn’t give them any details about where we are or where we’re going, and mom is completely flipping out about you being gone from the palace without a guard for the first time in your life. But…she gets it. And they trust us.” We were always inseparable. I didn’t even really figure out that I was a girl – or that being a girl meant something different than being a boy – until I was around eight years old and I had to go to ballet class when Rafe and Jesse went to martial arts. I was devastated when I figured out that being different genders meant we had different futures in store for us. But, well. I figured out pretty quickly that being a Princess means I have my own responsibilities. Even though I loved running wild with Rafe and Jesse, I learned how to be pretty, quaint, and sweet because I knew it would help mom and dad. Plus, it kind of came natural to me. Rafe and Jesse, they secretly taught me everything they learned in their fighting lessons because they didn’t want me to feel left out. But I’m mom’s tiny twin – petite with long rose-gold hair and a heart-shaped face. I’m not built for hand-to-hand combat the way Rafe and Jesse are, but things like ballet come naturally to me.And while I thought that I was eager to do my duties as a Princess, to marry a Prince to save our nation from war? Honestly, I don’t think my heart has ever been as happy as it is right now, running away from those duties and hopping a train with my two best friends. I’m so excited that I can barely catch my breath. Of course, Rafe throws a wet blanket on my excitement. “Okay,” he sighs, tossing his phone into his backpack, finished talking to mom and dad. “What the hell are we going to do with Ariel when we get to the Academy?” “Seriously, why don’t we just take her along with us?” Jesse asks, wrapping his arms around his knees. “What?” Rafe asks, frowning at him. “You mean like, into Alpha Academy?” “Sure,” Jesse says, glancing over at me. “I mean, you promised our moms that we’d keep her safe, right? If we have to keep an eye on her, what’s easier than keeping her by our side?” I gape at the audacity of Jesse’s plan. I’ve been hearing about Alpha Academy all my life and always dreamed about going – but, of course, it only accepts male students. And while Rafe and Jesse will certainly take the warrior track, I fantasized about taking up some of the other things you can study – like espionage, or becoming a master poison maker. There’s even a rumor that you can study battle magic if you have an affinity for it. But honestly – no one really knows what goes on inside of the Academy, it’s all top secret and shrouded in mystery. But whenever one of the Alpha graduates came to the palace to consult with dad or report on the amazing advances they made for our nation? They always had this air about them – like they could take on the world. And damn, did I envy that. Still – my dreams never got far. While we always knew Rafe and Jesse would go, I had to make other plans.“Well, I’m definitely not letting her out of our sight,” Rafe grumbles, his voice growing deeper at the mere idea of it. He shifts his eyes, studying me. I sigh a little, hanging my head, knowing it’s impossible. “It’s not that I don’t want you there, Ariel,” Rafe sighs, guilty. “It’s just not a safe place for girls –“ My head whips up and I open my mouth, ready to protest that I can take care of myself, but my brother is already waving a hand, dismissing the idea. “It’s over a hundred testosterone-fueled Alpha males in their early twenties, Ariel,” Rafe says, frowning, “with no female attention for months. You’ll get eaten alive. There are going to be guys there like Luca Grant –“ “Luca Grant’s going to be there?” I ask, my eyes going wide as my head snaps up. Grant’s a minor celebrity – he’s the junior heavyweight boxing champion of our nation as well as a rather notorious ladies’ man. But he just retired from boxing to join the military in a show of national pride. His story has been plastered all over the news. And it doesn’t hurt that he is…insanely good looking. He’s got these dimples that… Well. His dimples are beside the point. But I had no idea he was going to the Academy or that he’d be part of Rafe and Jesse’s class. “Isn’t the simplest thing just to just keep plans the same?” Jesse asks, interrupting my thoughts. “Ariel just…comes with us.” “You’re being ridiculous,” Rafe scoffs, glaring at Jesse and starting to lose his temper a bit. “What, we’re just going to waltz into the candidate barracks filled with a bunch of hormonal Alphas like ‘oh hey, we brought our little sister! Don’t touch her! Hands off!’” “No,” Jesse says, his eyes bright and eager. “We don’t waltz in with your sister,” he says, pulling his backpack over and rustling around in it, pulling out a grey camo-print patrol cap, standard issue for all Academy candidates. He plops it on my head. “We waltz in with your brother.” “What!?” Rafe seethes, appalled. “No, it’ll work!” Jesse says, grinning now as he scoots next to me and begins to tuck my rose-gold hair up under the cap. I grin right back at him, realizing where this is going. “Rafe,” Jesse says, turning to my brother with a wide grin, “meet Ari. Ari Sinclair.” Rafe’s mouth drops open as I laugh and then rearrange my face, trying to look tough and do my best impression of a dude. “Oh my god,” Rafe groans, allowing himself to fall back into the welcoming softness of the hay. “No, absolutely not – this will never work –“ “No, it will!” I insist, excited now. “It will work, I can do it! I’m Ari!” “No, you’re not,” Rafe mutters, his voice further muffled by the hands still pressed over his face. “You’re Ariel – you do ballet, and you arrange flowers, and you like making seating charts –“ “Not anymore,” I say, turning and grinning at Jesse, who nods eagerly at me. “Now, I’m Ari. And I’m a boy.”

Now I’m Ari Clark, a family cousin on Aunt Cora’s side. But things start to get immediately real as Rafe and Jesse sling their backpacks over their shoulders and we start to walk towards Alpha Academy, a rugged castle built on top of the cliffs that rise before us. I gulp as I stare up at the castle, a little shiver running through me. “It’s cold here,” I murmur, even though it’s just towards the end of summer right now. “You’ll warm up,” Jesse assures me with a wink. “Besides, see that hill?” he says, and I look where he points. “There are apparently some hot springs over there. If you get too cold, we’ll just dunk you.” I move to elbow Jesse in the stomach for this suggestion but he neatly dodges me, laughing. Anxiety twists in my stomach we continue to walk, though. Can I really do this? “Stop stressing about it,” Jesse murmurs, leaning close and bumping his shoulder against me, knocking me a bit sideways. I scowl, wishing I was taller. “You’re trying to solve problems you haven’t even come across yet. Just chill out.” “Classic Jesse advice,” Rafe mutters, shooting him a little glare as we start to climb the hill, “which doesn’t make any sense right now because we actually have very real problems to solve. Like the fact that Ari Clark doesn’t have any ID? And is also in possession of – you know, girl parts? And is tiny, and about to get his ass beat by a bunch of gigantic wolves?” “Hey!” I protest, giving Rafe a shove that…well, proves his point more than it does mine, because he doesn’t budge at all. “I can stand up in a fight against both of you! Don’t doubt me now!” “Are you serious, Ariel?” he asks, stopping in his tracks, his shoulders slumping. “Seriously think about this – about everything that you’re suggesting here. Are you just trying to get away from your asshole fiancé? Or do you actually want to train at Alpha Academy?” My face falls a bit as I realize that his question is a good one – that so far, I’ve basically been running on adrenaline. I take a second to think about it, tilting my head back and looking up at the castle on the cliff. And as I think about it…my mind flashes to all the things I wanted to do but was discouraged from because I’m a Princess and a girl – hockey lessons, and weapons training, and long chats with dad and Uncle Roger about war strategy. It was all boy stuff, but it means a thousand memories of doors closed in my face, a constant reminder that I had to learn a completely different set of skills. Because I’m a girl. Because I’m…a Princess. But I can’t be a Princess right now. I need to hide at least until this all blows over and Edward and his family leave our nation with a treaty intact. That’s all going to take some serious time. And quite suddenly, without the weight of my Princess title for the first time since I was eight…I realize how completely free I feel. I can do…whatever I want. And I know, instinctually, deep in my heart, precisely what I want. My wolf lifts her rose-gold snout to the sky, giving me a little howl of courage. Tell them, she urges. So, I bring my gaze back to my brother and my cousin. “I want to do this,” I say quietly determined. “If it had ever been an option for me, this is what I’d have chosen for myself. And now that it is?” I nod steadily. “I want it, Rafe. I want to be here.” I look around the room while I finish rolling up the wrists and the ankles of my uniform, my hair tucked discreetly up under my cap. And I can’t help but stare open-mouthed at all of the boys wandering around the barracks. I mean, it’s not that I haven’t been around guys before – but the sight of boy after boy flooding through the door? I mean…it’s pretty great. I mean, I’ve flirted a little – and Edward, he kissed me a few times before the wedding, mostly chaste stuff for press, but in general… Well, I’m a Princess. It sort of makes sense that I’ve lived a pretty sheltered life, right? Any guy who wanted to date me had to get through my gigantic overprotective dad, the King, and not many were very willing to do that. I blush now as I look around at all of these guys in front of me. Because they’re all so fit, like they’ve been training for weeks before submitting themselves as candidates for Alpha Academy so that they can hit the ground running. And I have to admit…it’s kind of a buffet. A few guys in particular catch my eye. There’s a tall blonde one who has set up shop in the bed almost diagonal from us, with a jaw so precisely molded it looks like it was cut with a diamond. And nobody can miss Luca Grant at the center of the room – god, he’s actually signing autographs. But he’s just as good looking as he is on TV – maybe even hotter. And then there’s a sort of shy, slim boy with dark hair that falls into his eyes who looks moody and watches everyone. I mean, I never thought that was my type before, but now? I have to admit, I find my eyes drawn to him. Rafe slings his own supplies onto the bed next to Jesse’s and then smacks my arm as he points to the bunk above his. “Up,” he commands, interrupting my reverie. “What?” I ask, confused. “You’re up here,” he says, patting the upper bunk and giving me a big fake grin that lets me know it’s not a request. “Where I can watch you. All the time. And smack you when you stare too openly at all of the guys who are now your comrades, not your eye candy.”

The next two hours are…an education in boy world. I sit perched up on my bunk, staring around in awe. This room has more than a hundred boys in it right now, and we’ll all be sleeping in here together through candidacy. When that’s done, if we make it, we’ll move up to the castle to more private dorms. But seriously? Until then? I’m kind of…thrilled. The atmosphere here – it’s totally different than anything I’ve ever experienced. There’s a great deal of shouting and laughter, and two fist fights have already broken out, along with quite a few arm-wrestling matches. Girls? We’d all be simpering and sizing each other up. Guys? They just clasp hands and smack each other on the back, instant friends. But then a boy walks by in his underwear – which I’m not complaining about in itself – but my eyes go wide with shock when he just blatantly, casually dips a hand into his boxers and scratches his balls – “So, what do you think, cousin,” Jesse says, making me jump as he pops up at my side, standing on Rafe’s bunk and using the leverage to hook his arms over the edge of mine, grinning at me. “Regretting your choices yet?” “Boys are…” I whisper, still looking around with awe, “a completely different species.” “I think our prim little Princess likes it,” Jesse says with a laugh, observing my fascination. I laugh too and lift a finger to my lips. “Don’t tell Rafe,” I whisper, knowing my brother – like my dad – is crazy over-protective. “Your secret is safe with me,” Jesse whispers back, giving me a wink. “Just…try to look more boyish, all right? You’re sitting up there like a pretty little barn owl, staring around with those big eyes.” I gasp a little, realizing that he’s probably right. I hunch my back a little, unfolding my legs so that I’m not so prim. “Is this better?” I murmur, pitching my voice lower and laughing because I feel ridiculous. “Just scratch your ass a little more around people,” Jesse suggests with a grin, “let people see you burp.” Horrified, I glare at him. “Absolutely not.” Jesse laughs and then holds out his arm to me, wrist up. “Here,” he says. “What?” I ask, tapping at his closed fingers, thinking he has some little present hidden in his fist. “No,” Jesse says, laughing, and then he beckons me closer. I lean towards him and, lightening quick, Jesse wipes his wrist across both sides of my neck and then across my own wrists. “What’s that for?” I ask, frowning, confused. “Scent marking,” he replies in a whisper. “Sometimes you smell like a girl. This will disguise it a little, make it not so obvious.” “Won’t I just smell like you?” I ask, confused. He shrugs. “We’re cousins,” he replies. “No one will notice or care.” “Oh,” I say, and then I lean back in my bunk as Jesse jumps down and goes to talk to a light-haired boy who has just come to introduce himself to Rafe. I didn’t even think about smelling like a girl – what else is going to give me away? I try to think it through, to strategize, but soon the room is so filled with young men that I can’t really think about anything else besides watching them, studying how they move so I can move like that and start to blend in. I can’t even really keep track of which one is which as they all move around the room, unpacking their personal items and introducing themselves to their neighbors. Which is why it is so incredibly disconcerting when I find my head snapping to the left, my eyes frantically searching because… Because I swear, I just smelled…the most amazing scent that has ever crossed my nose – My wolf leaps inside me, which is itself shocking – she’s usually so calm that I sometimes forget she’s there – Get it, she commands, instantly starting to prowl, go find it – you have to – it’s ours – “What?!” I say aloud as I sit up stark straight, suddenly a little freaked out. But then I lift my nose and almost moan aloud when I smell it again – that incredible, amazing scent – the sharp bite of citrus, bergamot and wet pavement baking under the summer sun, apricots and almonds – Something snaps within me, an almost physical twist that redirects everything in me – all of my goals, all of my dreams – just wipes them away in the singular pursuit of it, of him – Mate!, my wolf howls, lifting her nose to the sky and singing the word, her feet dancing. Go! Get up! Go and find him – Mate! Mate! Mate! And I gasp, pressing myself back against my pillows because I know it now – know it for certain in my heart and my bones – that my mate is here – But as I look around, frantic, something…something else crosses my path. And I do moan aloud this time, my lower lip starting to shake as I go limp, falling back against my pillows. I have to press my eyes shut against the leather and whiskey scent of him – red hot cinders and the sharp bite of pine on a night so cold even the air freezes – And, to my horror, something else snaps within me, shaking me to the core, so much so that my shoulders start to tremble with it. Because…because the other one is still there – and this one too – They’re both still there, both bonds now calling to me, urging me to run in two different directions at once – I’m suddenly nauseous, my head spinning as gravity reorients itself in two directions, trying to point both north and south at the same time, my internal compass spinning – I raise my hands to my temples and give another soft moan. “Ari,” Rafe says, coming to the side of the bed and peering over at me, concerned. “Are you all right?” But I don’t reply, my eyes pressed tightly shut as I concentrate on my wolf, on the ridiculous thing that she’s saying – Inside of me she prowls back and forth, giving little hops of excitement, turning in eager circles, her tongue lolling from the side of her mouth. Get up! She urges me, snapping her teeth with glee, go and find them! Now! What?! I say to her, frantic. But that’s ridiculous – we can’t – we’re in disguise! Go!, she commands, and I find myself sitting up straight, my eyes flying open despite myself. Go and find them! We need to meet our mates! But as I look around the room – it’s too much of a mess. I know that they’re here – but I have absolutely no idea which ones they are. “Seriously, Ari,” Rafe says, peering at me closely. “You’re…all pale. Are you okay?” I spin my head to look at my brother with frantic eyes, my breath coming fast now. Behind him I see Jesse turn, confused, looking at me with curious worry. I open my mouth to stumble something out – anything – to beg them to help – But before I can, a loud clap sounds at the head of the room and we all spin towards it. Everyone goes silent, staring at the Academy Captain standing there with four Sergeants. He’s a gigantic man with a rough, craggy face that doesn’t look like it’s seen a smile for twenty years. But I can’t think about that now – my head still spins, and I do my very best to keep my eyes forward and concentrate on walking as my body begins to adjust, not allowing myself to be distracted by my surroundings or by my stupid wolf, who is howling at me – begging me to go find them, to hunt them down, to strip off my uniform right now and – The Captain scowls around at us, clearly displeased with our disorder. “Fall in,” he snaps. “It’s time for your first examination.”

“Time for the ranking,” the Captain growls, looking around at us with distaste. “You’re dressed in your grey candidate fatigues because you have not yet earned your Academy black. The bottom twenty percent of candidates will be cut at the end of the second week of candidacy. I suggest you take this seriously.” The Captain surveys us, his eyes cold. “Today’s test,” he barks out, “measures what you won’t survive without at the Academy: physical prowess. Rafe Sinclair! Kenny Dextrin! You’re up – first blood wins!” The Academy is famous for teaching its students the most cutting-edge methods and technologies – but first ranking is determined by a fist fight!? The match is over shockingly fast. Rafe knocks Kenny down and bloodies his nose within thirty seconds. When Luca Grant is called, I smirk a little. Luca dances around his opponent and taunts him for a while before whipping out a swift uppercut that knocks the other boy clean over. I bite my lip a little, admiring his technique – and the spread of his muscled shoulders – when to my horror I hear my own name. Or at least, my pretend name. “Ari Clark! Robert Brown!” My jaw just drops open because – god, I’m such an idiot – but as long as I’ve been standing here watching, I’ve never thought about how I was going to have to do this! I groan as I realize that I slipped into my Princess identity – I’m used to standing on the sidelines, watching Rafe and Jesse fight – “Let’s go, Clark!” The Sergeant snaps when he sees that I haven’t stepped forward. Rafe, next to me, sighs and puts a hand on my back, shoving me forward. I look back at him in shock but he just shrugs, his eyes clearly saying you wanted to join the Academy, kid. Frantic, I turn to Robert, who is already stepping into a fighting stance. As he puts his fists up and I finally realize that I’m actually supposed to punch him, the candidates all around us start to shout and whistle. “Come on!” Robert shouts, urging me forward. “Let’s do it!” But I just stand there, shocked. Someone starts to laugh uproariously and then bellows, “The shrimp’s scared!” Others start to laugh too, and then they pick up a call: “Shrimp! Shrimp! Shrimp!” This, somehow, spurs me on – and finally gets my wolf to pay attention to something besides that insane thing that happened this afternoon – two boys – two scents – Kill him, she growls, stalking forward within me. Show ‘em all… And so I start to step forward, my lips curling back, raising my own fists the way Rafe and Jesse taught me to, moving fast towards the other boy – Everything goes black. When I open my eyes I see Jesse staring right at me, peering again over the edge of my bunk. “Hey there, Shrimp,” he says, smirking at me, but not without sympathy. “How you feeling? He got you good.” I open my mouth to say something but pain instantly flares over my entire face. “Ith it…” I say, my voice all stuffy from my poor injured nose, which I raise a hand to gingerly touch, “Ith it broken?” Jesse takes a moment to press my nose between his thumbs, pushing at it experimentally, which hurts like hell. I gasp and wince, but he shakes his head. “Nah, cousin, you’ll be all right in a few days. You’ll have one hell of a black eye, though.” Well, also, I can’t smell anything with my nose all messed up, can I? So, I have no idea which of these boys are… God, I can’t even think the word to myself. Mate! My wolf gleefully supplies, dancing around inside of me, ignoring my pain. Your mates! Both of them! Get up now, shift into me! I can smell them! I can do it! I would love to do it! I scowl, ignoring her and closing my eyes again, wishing I was still knocked out. A few minutes later, though, my rest is interrupted by something landing on my pillow that makes me jump. I gasp, opening my eyes, and then I scowl when I see a cellophane-wrapped sandwich and a water bottle next to me, along with a packet of pain killers. “You okay, kid?” Rafe asks quietly, and I jump a little to see him standing where Jesse was before, peering at me closely. “No, I’m dying,” I sigh dramatically, collapsing back onto my pillow. “That breaks the pact,” he says, shoving me lightly on the shoulder. “You die, mom kills me – then dad’s only got Markie and Juniper left, their two worst kids. You know we can’t do that to them.” I smirk, laughing a little, but then I flinch when laughing hurts. “Hey,” I say, suddenly remembering that I missed the big event. “Did you win?” Rafe just gives a casual shrug but Jesse pops up behind him. “Of course he won!” Jesse says, looping a proud arm around Rafe’s shoulders. “You should have seen the brute he had to take out though, Ari,” he continues, his eyes wide and thrilled. “You’re being dramatic,” Rafe murmurs, shrugging Jesse off even though he can’t keep the corners of his lips from turning up. “No seriously,” Jesse says, leaning in to me. “He was like, bigger than Rafe, maybe – or at least as big – and totally brutal. You could tell he had never been formally trained, but he just went into his fights like a damn madman –“ “Really?” I ask, curious, sitting up a little. “Which one was it?” “That big boulder over there,” Jesse murmurs, pointing across the room. I see him instantly – who couldn’t? He’s seriously gigantic – rivaling even my dad in size. He hunches over in his bunk, looking down at his mattress with his arms resting lightly on top of his knees, totally stoic but clearly disappointed to have come in second. His dark hair falls in his face like he can’t be bothered to push it away. “You beat him?” I ask, turning shocked eyes on my brother. “Don’t act so surprised,” Rafe snaps, frowning at me, offended. I laugh a little and lean over to give him a shove on the shoulder. “You’re right,” I say in an overly-girly voice, like a deranged cheerleader, teasing him. “No one can beat Rafe Sinclair!” Jesse laughs with me, turning to watch Rafe turn red as he scowls. “Eat up,” Rafe mutters as he hops down from the bed, “and take the painkillers.” Then he hesitates, looking over his shoulder, and leans in to whisper. “There are some closed shower stalls, but…I don’t think you should go in there anytime soon. All right?” “I’ll do it in the morning,” I say with a yawn, reaching out to grab the cold water bottle and press it to my face, moaning a little at the instant relief. “I’ll get up at 3, before anyone else.” “Okay. Wake me up too. I’ll come with you.” “No,” I say, shaking my head. “You need sleep. It’ll be okay.” “Just wake me,” my brother growls. I nod to appease him and lean back against my pillow with a groan. Fine, my wolf growls as I drift of, displeased. But tomorrow, we’re finding them! Unfortunately, as fate would have it, tomorrow is too long of a wait.

I wake up in the middle of the night and groan a little with pain from my stiff muscles and my aching face. I prod at my nose, pleased to find that it’s already much better – the speed of wolf healing really is great, even though my nose is still too swollen to truly smell anything. But as I sit up, I realize that the real problem here is that I am…grimy. I’m completely covered in sweat and blood and my body feels…disgusting. I stick out my tongue as I survey myself, not even really able to believe that I was able to fall asleep like this. I mean, how much pain had I even been in? A lot, my wolf reminds me, nudging me with her nose. Can we go find them now? I scowl and mentally push her away, not able to think of it – or maybe just not wanting to, not right now. I mean, what the hell does it mean – what do I even feel about any of this? Did I imagine it? Or did…did two mating bonds actually snap into place yesterday afternoon, the day after I left Prince Asshole at the altar? But no. That’s impossible. You get one fated mated – just one! And most people don’t even get that! I don’t even know what one mating bond snapping into place feels like, let alone two. My wolf must be wrong – whatever happened must have just been…I don’t know, some kind of hormonal reaction to being around so many boys all at once. I’m not wrong! she growls, snapping her teeth at my denial. But I ignore her again. I quickly move to the wide communal bathroom at the end of the room. I grab a set of supplies from the waiting shelf and dash towards the shower stall. But when I pull back the curtain I gasp – actually gasp – in horror at the site before me. The floor and walls are covered in muck, and boy hair, and – oh my god, is that even blood in the corner? I scowl at myself, hating this side of me that’s decidedly a Princess… …but I have to get clean. And quite suddenly I remember what Jesse said on the way in – that there are some hot springs over the far hill. I breathe out a little moan, instantly wanting nothing more than a long, hot bath all by myself. To get clean, and to refresh myself – I just know it’s the one thing that will set me right. —— After about five minutes of searching for the hot springs, I find them. They’re everything I hoped they would be. Clean, fresh water – smelling just slightly of sulfur – bubbles out through a set of rocks, creating a little steaming pool that’s just deep enough to sink into. With a quick glance over my shoulder to check that I’m actually alone, I strip off my clothes and fling off my hat, running my fingers through my hair as I wade into the pool, moaning a little at the luxurious warmth of it enveloping my exhausted and battered body. When that’s finished, I tie my hair back in a knot at the base of my head and I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and turning my face up to again stare at the castle against the sky as I start on my body. As I run the bar of soap all over my skin, pampering myself a little as my muscles unwind, my mind turns to the question of battle magic, and just how the Academy might teach something like that. Because Rafe and Jesse and I – we’re all supposed to have some kind of magic, a gift from our Grandmother, the Goddess. Mom and Aunt Cora told us each about it when we turned sixteen, but…none of us have manifested anything yet. Mom is an incredible healer, and Aunt Cora can control the weather, but the three of us?

Not so much as a spark, no matter what we’ve tried. Mom tells us not to worry about it, that the Goddess will reveal her gift in time… But the Academy…would it have a way to bring something like that out in me? And if so…what form would my magic take? My imagination spins as I consider the possibilities as I soap myself down and I smile a little, staring to feel, finally, like myself again. I even hum to myself a little bit, carried away by how good this feels. Of course, the feeling is short lived because just as I set the soap aside and splash a handful of water up against my face, a voice rings out behind me. “What the hell are you doing here?” And I gasp, spinning and instinctually dipping low into the pool so that I’m up to my chin in the opaque water, staring up at the dark figure standing at the edge of the pool. I push myself away from him through the water, terrified but unable to see who it is – But as I reach the far side of the pool, terror streaking through me, the cloud covering the moon skates away revealing… Another candidate – and not my brother or cousin. My eyes go wide in shock as I realize, quite suddenly, that it’s Luca Grant – all six-foot-two of him, staring down at me – “Seriously, Shrimp,” he says, crouching down and looking all around. “What are you even doing here? And did you see a girl running around? I’m looking for her.” My mouth drops open a little as I realize that…that in the dark he can’t see my long hair knotted at the back of my neck, or any details about my body underneath the water. And, simultaneously, I realize that I smell like all girl right now because in soaping myself down I washed off all of the scent Jesse rubbed on me, which was covering me up – My mind whirs, but luckily my mouth responds without me. “Um,” I say, pitching my voice a little lower. “No, I haven’t seen anyone.” “Shit luck,” the boxer says, standing and sighing as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been getting bits and pieces of her scent all day…she’s got to be around, but I can’t figure out where…” “Why…” I say again, hesitating and rubbing at my nose, desperate now to be able to smell something – “why are you looking for her?” “’Cause,” he says, sighing in frustration. “She’s my mate.” “Impossible,” a growling voice snaps, making both of us jump and spin towards the hulking figure that comes out of the shadows next. And my eyes go wide when I realize that… That it’s the huge, scarred brute that Rafe beat in the last bout – who hung his head in disappointment in his bunk – “Pardon?” The boxer says, raising an eyebrow at the bigger candidate who comes close to glower over him. To his credit, Luca doesn’t flinch. “She can’t be your mate,” the brute snarls, glaring down at Luca and not even sparing me a second glance. “Because she’s mine.” Yes! Yes! Yes! My wolf yelps within me, spinning in eager circles, holding her tail high like a banner. Our mates! Both of them! But my reaction is the opposite. “Ohhhh no,” I whisper, shaking my head as I look between them. Two mates – both looking for me? And neither of them realizing that I’m treading water right here!? How the hell am I going to get out of this?

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I, Maggie Queen, met my tragic end at the hands of a criminal on my sixteenth birthday. The scene was horrific; my body was left unrecognizable, dismembered, and scattered across various trash bins. I was severed from my father, Irwin Queen, and my brother, Mark Queen, leaving behind only a restless spirit. Before all this unfolded, the thug had threatened me with a smirk, “Irwin’s daughter? Ha! You’ve got a rough road ahead, little girl. Blame your dad for making waves and stirring up trouble with my crew.” Fear coursed through me; I recognized him as one of Irwin’s enemies. He was out for revenge. “What a pity. You’ve crossed the wrong people.” His words left me confused. “Poor thing, just starting high school, huh?” He waved a half-damaged school ID in front of me, mocking my youth. I looked at them with pleading eyes, silently begging for mercy because of my age. “Hahaha! Look at this girl. The way she’s staring at me, it’s like she’s trying to seduce me…” My mouth was tightly gagged, and all I could do was shake my head violently, a cold wave of terror washing over me. “Here’s the deal: you can call your dad. If he coughs up two million in ransom, we’ll let you go. Otherwise, you’re at our mercy,” said the greasy man with tattoos on his arms, a sinister grin plastered on his face. The kidnappers forced me to call home. I feared these ruthless thugs would hurt Irwin and Mark if I did. I shook my head desperately, refusing to make the call. In response, I received a few hard slaps that left me dizzy, my face swelling, and blood trickling from my mouth. “Damn it, you’re making this hard on yourself! I’ll call!” he growled. “How could he even know Irwin’s number?” My mind was spinning in confusion. Then, he dialed the number himself. After a few rings, the call connected, and my heart raced in my chest. They ripped the tape off my mouth. “Hello, who is this?” Mark’s voice came through the line. It was the home phone. The kidnapper took the phone over. “Irwin? Your daughter’s with us.” Mark’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “Maggie, is this your idea of a prank? Getting someone to kidnap you? “How much do you want? A million? Five million?” “No! Mark, help me!” I cried out, my voice trembling with fear and desperation. “Mark, hurry and light the candles…” I heard Megan Queen’s voice in the background. They must have been celebrating a birthday. My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles, the pain overwhelming. “Is this some kind of trick? You think I’ll forgive you for this? Mom died trying to save you, and you’re still a piece of work! Even if you die out there, it wouldn’t matter!” He slammed the phone down hard. “You know, your family really hates you. Can you imagine how they’d react if they found out you were really dead? Hahaha!” The kidnapper’s laughter sent chills down my spine. The rest of the ordeal felt like a nightmare. I thought, “I don’t have a mother anymore, and my dad… he probably wouldn’t care either. Mark only acknowledges Megan as his sister. If he knew I was gone, he’d probably be happy since he’s always wanted me to step aside for her. What are my dad and brother doing right now?” Even in death, I couldn’t shake my concern for the only family I had left. I floated back home, my spirit heavy with sorrow.

The bright lights filled the room, casting a warm glow that felt so foreign to me. Ever since I turned ten, I hadn’t experienced the warmth of a loving home. Right now, Irwin and Mark were busy celebrating Megan’s birthday. The birthday cake sparkled in the candlelight, its sweet aroma mingling with the sounds of laughter, creating a beautiful scene. Megan stood in the center, wearing a white dress, her eyes sparkling with joy, looking every bit like a little princess. Irwin and Mark surrounded her, their faces lit up with smiles, radiating happiness that felt like a world away from me. Since I turned eight, I had been cut off from this warmth. Megan was my nominal sister, the apple of Irwin and Mark’s eyes. She was the student my mother, Miranda Queen, had sponsored since the day I was born. We shared the same birthday, both born in the same month and year, but she grew up in a poor mountainous area. Miranda had said that by sponsoring a sister for me, she was building good karma. This sister, who had no blood ties to me, bore a slight resemblance to Miranda, which made Irwin and Mark dote on her. Far more than they ever had on me. I looked like my rough-edged father, Irwin, and often wished I could resemble Miranda instead. Maybe then, Irwin and Mark wouldn’t harbor such resentment toward me. Megan had a knack for brightening people’s spirits, and her likeness to Miranda won her the love and attention of Irwin and Mark. As for me? I only reminded them of the mother and wife they had lost. A bitter taste spread through my heart, and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. By ten o’clock, they were getting ready for bed, and no one mentioned me at all. Irwin glanced at the clock, his irritation palpable. Megan bit her lip and cautiously said, “Maggie still hasn’t come home. Do you think she’s okay?” Mark ruffled her hair and said reassuringly, “She’s fine. It’s a special day, and Maggie probably just lost track of time. She might feel embarrassed to come back. Don’t worry about her, Megan.” Those words hit me hard. They thought I was just avoiding home out of guilt when, in reality, I was gone forever. Irwin frowned but didn’t say anything more. He had received a call about a body found at the dump, and he left early to investigate. In recent years, Cloudia City had seen a significant drop in violent crime, so it was unusual to encounter a case as gruesome as this. I drifted over to take a look at my own lifeless body. My torso lay there, bruised and withered, unrecognizable—like a grotesque puzzle piece. Once a vibrant teenage girl, I had been reduced to something that would terrify a child. Irwin and the other officers had cordoned off the area with police tape, surrounding the site where my dismembered body had been discarded in various trash bins. Two hours later, they collected what remained of my body, but my head was still missing. Those present gasped in horror at the sight of the dismembered pieces. Even the seasoned detectives couldn’t keep their stomachs in check and had to turn away. Mark, a top forensic expert, was urgently called to the scene. I watched helplessly as he began piecing together my shattered form. My body was covered in bruises and scars, each mark a testament to the violence I had endured. I focused on my left hand, where a small mole sat in the center of my palm. It was a reminder of a childhood accident when I accidentally drove a nail into my hand while playing with Mark. Irwin had given Mark a good thrashing for that, and Mark had felt guilty for a long time afterward. Suddenly, Mark stopped working, his sharp gaze fixed on my palm. My heart raced. “Could he realize it’s me? Does he remember that moment from our childhood?” His colleague noticed Mark’s intense focus and eagerly asked if he had found something. Mark snapped back to reality, hesitating before shaking his head. “Nothing. Just something about it feels familiar.” A wry smile crept onto my face. I should have realized it long ago—since I turned ten, Mark had never looked at me the same way again. Maybe he had forgotten that incident. Without my head, DNA testing would take at least three days, and they still couldn’t confirm my identity. “Preliminary assessment suggests the victim is a female aged between fourteen and sixteen, with a time of death not exceeding twenty-four hours,” Mark stated coolly, analyzing the situation with a furrowed brow. His eyes held a mix of sorrow and regret as he concluded that the victim had been alive during the horrific acts inflicted upon her. It was a brutal case of torture and murder. Mark remained composed and objective, unaware that the girl who had suffered such unimaginable pain was the very sister he had always resented. Meanwhile, Irwin was busy gathering evidence and conducting his own investigation.

This was the worst case the city had seen in a decade, and a heavy atmosphere hung over the entire police department. The higher-ups were taking it very seriously, ordering Captain Irwin to solve the case within a strict deadline. Based on the clues they had gathered, the police quickly reviewed surveillance footage from the area. Before long, they identified a chilling scene: three masked men using a van to abduct a female student. Unfortunately, the footage was grainy, making it impossible to see their faces clearly. The abduction was swift and brutal, leading the officers to conclude it was a targeted kidnapping. Irwin stared at the blurry figures, a look of confusion crossing his face. “I can’t shake the feeling that these guys look familiar.” “Could it be someone you know? Maybe a former inmate back out on the streets?” his colleague Vincent Green pondered aloud, a hint of concern in his voice. Just then, Irwin’s phone rang, interrupting their discussion. It was my teacher, Nancy Dona. “Hello, this is Nancy Dona, Maggie’s teacher. I’m calling because Maggie didn’t show up for school today. Is everything okay?” Her voice was laced with worry. Irwin frowned, irritation creeping into his tone. “I don’t know. I’m busy with work right now. If you’re concerned about her, go talk to her uncle.” Nancy hesitated, wanting to say more, but Irwin abruptly hung up, his patience wearing thin. Vincent looked at him, worry etched on his face. “Maggie’s not the type to just disappear. What if something’s really wrong?” “Wrong? What could possibly happen? She’s at her uncle’s place, safe and sound.” Irwin’s tone was dismissive. He was clearly reluctant to discuss me. Seeing Irwin’s stubbornness, Vincent could only shake his head in resignation. When I was younger, Irwin sometimes brought me to the police station. Vincent and the others always treated me like a little princess, showering me with kindness. But after that incident, I hadn’t set foot in Irwin’s workplace since. They all knew that I spent Miranda’s memorial day at my uncle’s house. Irwin’s deep-seated bias against me wasn’t something that could be easily brushed aside with a few kind words. “Irwin… today marks your wife’s memorial. You should take a moment for yourself,” Vincent said gently, hoping to encourage him to take a break. But the pressure from above was relentless. Vincent said, “I’ll be fine. The more I keep busy, the less I’ll dwell on her,” Irwin replied, his voice weary yet resolute. “Alright then, let’s crack this case as soon as we can. And remember, Maggie’s not responsible for what happened. It’s been a while since Miranda passed, and you’ve distanced yourself from her. “Maggie’s hurting too. You lost a wife, and she lost a mother… “She’s always reticent. I bet she’s hurting inside. “That poor girl, she’s about the same age as the victim. Just think how devastated her family must be. Once this case wraps up, maybe you could show Maggie a little more care. Parents and children shouldn’t be at odds.” Vincent’s words struck a chord deep within me, making my heart ache. He saw things clearly from the outside, while Irwin remained stubbornly blind to the reality of the situation. Irwin stood there, momentarily stunned, as if Vincent’s words had finally pierced through his defenses. “Yeah…” was all Irwin managed to say. Vincent recognized that Irwin was beginning to listen.

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