Category: English

1 The reunion was over. Hannah suddenly said, “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” I wasn’t surprised. “Even if he’s a complete jerk, you still love him?” Hannah let out a light laugh. “You forget, I’m a jerk too.” Jerks and jerks, a match made in heaven. I chuckled suddenly. “Alright.” A divorce was perfect. The spot she’d vacate was long since spoken for. … Hannah seemed surprised by how readily I agreed. But it was only for a second before she suppressed that subtle flicker of feeling, looking at me calmly. “I’ll bring the papers tomorrow. What’s yours is yours, you won’t lose a penny.” I nodded. “Okay.” “Hannah!” A voice suddenly called from behind. Liam, obviously drunk, stumbled over and threw his arms around her. “Long time no see, sweetheart. All these years, have you missed me?” Hannah didn’t push him away. She even wrapped her arm around his waist, a softness in her eyes I hadn’t seen in our three years of marriage. “Hannah, why aren’t you saying anything?” Liam suddenly looked at me, his eyes hazy, and pointed a finger, cursing. “Hannah, have you fallen for this goody-two-shoes? Guys like him must be dead fish in bed. I used to show you so many tricks back in the day. Can you really stand a dead fish now?” He got louder and louder, finally lunging at me, ready to strike. Hannah caught his wrist, then turned to me. “I’m sorry, he’s drunk.” Even though I was her husband in that moment, her first instinct was to apologize to me for another man. I gave a self-deprecating laugh. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. If there’s nothing else, I’ll head home.” Hannah mumbled, “I’m not coming back tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” My footsteps faltered, but I said nothing. Back home, I looked at the marital home we’d shared for three years. From the hopeful anticipation when we first got our license, to the sting of hearing her blurt out Liam’s name during our first time together. Then the pain, the disappointment, when she had a fever and mistook me for Liam. Now, there was only numbness. Ten years. My entanglement with Hannah was finally over. I let out a soft laugh and walked into the bedroom to pack. I didn’t have much stuff; one suitcase was enough. After packing, I lay down, expecting insomnia, but I fell asleep the moment my eyes closed. I even dreamt, for the first time in ages, of seeing Hannah for the first time. Every school had its popular figures. Hannah was the most famous at Northwood High. She was popular, smart, and her only flaw, perhaps, was how often she changed boyfriends. Back then, I disliked people like her, even thought anyone who liked her was crazy. Until that day, when my friends dragged me to watch her long jump. There was a huge crowd, and I was pushed to the very front. I felt uncomfortable and was about to leave. But then, a jacket, smelling of sweet flowers and fruit, landed squarely on my head. I nervously pulled it off, meeting a bright, dazzling face. “Hey, mind holding my jacket?” In that moment, my heart nearly hammered out of my chest. From that day on, I had a secret crush. In junior year, to be in her class, I chose science, a subject I had no interest in. Watching her go through boyfriend after boyfriend, I felt terrible, but had no right to say anything. I just continued with the anonymous love letters, one after another. This went on until just before graduation. I didn’t want to have any regrets, so I wrote a signed love letter, intending to confess to her in person. But when I got to the classroom, I saw her kissing her new boyfriend. The boy stood beside her, blushing. She raised an eyebrow, smiling at me. “Hey, what class are you in? My boyfriend’s shy, mind closing the door?” It was then I realized that with graduation so close, she didn’t even know we were in the same class, let alone my name. The next day, I waited all morning, but Hannah never showed up. I called her dozens of times, but couldn’t get through. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I got up and went to her office. Only to be told Hannah hadn’t come to work. Unusual. A workaholic, not showing up for work. Who it was for was obvious. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was my buddy, Dean. The moment I answered, a furious shout came from the other end. “Ethan! Hannah’s cheating! I just saw some dude taking her to an abortion clinic!” “I’m going to go kill those two dirtbags right now! How dare they do this to you!” “That bitch! That scumbag! I’m going to make him pay!” Beep— Before I could say a word, the call disconnected. Without thinking, I quickly hailed a cab to the hospital. As soon as I reached the entrance of the gynecology department, I heard Dean’s loud voice. “Hannah! You’re a married woman, and now you’re cheating! And you actually brought your side piece to get an abortion in broad daylight!” “And you, you damn jerk, have some shame! Being a homewrecker!” “Today, I’m going to make sure you two dirtbags don’t leave here alive! I’m going to make you both die!” “Bitch! Bitch! Hannah, do you really think Ethan deserves this? After loving you for ten years, after what he did for you…” “Dean!” I rushed in and interrupted him, pulling him back. Seeing Hannah, pale and weak, being held by Liam, I pressed my lips together. “I’m sorry, my friend lost his temper.” Hannah’s tone was icy. “Control him. If he’s ever so careless with his words again, I won’t let it go.” With that, she and Liam left. Dean’s eyes widened instantly. “Ethan! Why are you apologizing to her? She’s the one in the wrong!” I pursed my lips. “Dean, that’s Liam.” Dean froze. I told him everything from the moment the reunion started last night until it ended. After hearing everything, Dean took a deep breath. “So, just because Liam broke up with that woman and came back from abroad, and went to a reunion, Hannah wants to divorce you?” I nodded. “Why the hell?” Dean slammed his hand on a table, his eyes bloodshot. “That guy treated Hannah like dirt, then dumped her, and even hit her with his car, almost killing her. You were the one who saved her, your hand crushed and bloody, so badly you could never hold a scalpel again. You nursed her out of the hospital, stayed by her side. Why does she get to just say ‘I want a divorce’ now?” “No! I’m going to tell her! Even if you divorce, I want her conscience to be plagued with guilt.” I grabbed his arm. “Dean, it’s pointless. Now, I genuinely want this divorce. I’m done loving her.” Dean stared at me intently, as if disbelieving. After all, every time I’d said I was done loving her, I’d ended up eating my words. But this time, I was truly tired. I even felt that Hannah was, well, just Hannah. Saying goodbye to Dean, I asked the nurse for Hannah’s room number. As I approached the door, I heard laughter from inside. “Hannah, I treated you like dirt back then, and then hit you with my ex-girlfriend in the car, and you still love me! Even divorcing that goodie-two-shoes for me!” I froze, looking up at the scene inside. Hannah, her expression consistently gentle towards Liam, said nothing. Liam seemed bored and leaned in to kiss her. Hannah didn’t dodge, wanting to deepen the kiss. But in the next second, Liam pulled away, his lips curled in a mocking sneer. “Hannah, you’re such a slut!” Hannah suddenly grabbed his chin and bit him. The sound of wet kissing filled the room instantly. After who knows how long, Hannah released him, her voice slightly breathless. “Yes, I’m a slut! A slut who fell for you! A slut who loved you year after year.” Year after year? Could a wild child like her even love? I tugged at the corner of my mouth, about to leave. Liam suddenly saw me. He hooked his arm around Hannah. “What about your goodie-two-shoes husband? Don’t you love him? After all, he’s liked you for ten years.” Hannah’s hoarse voice responded, “The goodie-two-shoes is just a fallback for a mess like me. Someone like you, though, you’re my perfect match.” Liam burst out laughing, then lifted his chin. “Hey, your fallback is outside.” Hannah stiffened, turning to look at me. My nails dug into my palm as I forced a smile. “I just came to ask when you can sign the divorce papers.” “Any demands you have, feel free to make them.” Hannah handed me the documents. I flipped to the last page, signed my name, and handed it back to her with a smile. “It’s fine, you wouldn’t screw me over anyway.” Hannah looked at the man’s smile opposite her, finding it inexplicably grating. But wasn’t this exactly what she wanted right now? A divorce, then tying herself to that scumbag, Liam. Hannah shook her head, about to sign her name, when her phone suddenly rang. She murmured an apology and stood up to answer it. I don’t know what was said on the other end, but her face suddenly changed, and she started to walk out. I immediately grabbed the papers and stood up, blocking her way. “Just sign, it’ll only take a few seconds.” Hannah sharply looked up, her dark eyes fixed on me. I kept smiling, maintaining my stance. She took the pen, signed her name with a flourish. “I’ve already contacted the civil affairs office. It’ll take at least seven days to get the divorce certificate.” Seven days. I silently calculated the timing for my wedding with the other woman. It was enough. Back home, I immediately shipped my belongings to Emerald City. By the time I was done, it was evening. Just as I was about to rest, I received a call from the precinct. “Hello, are you Ms. Hannah Anderson’s husband? Your wife has been reported for unlawful restraint. We’d appreciate it if you could come down to the station.” I didn’t want to go, but we weren’t officially divorced yet. Fine, one last time. When I arrived, I saw Hannah’s face was grim, and beside her sat a smirking Liam. Seeing me, an officer immediately stepped forward. “Do you know this gentleman? He claims Ms. Anderson imprisoned him and that he was recaptured after escaping, with attempts to assault him in the car.” Before I could speak, Hannah suddenly interjected, “He’s my fiancé. There’s no imprisonment or assault. We’re in a legitimate relationship.” With that, she suddenly pulled out a yellowed but well-preserved piece of paper. On it was Liam’s promise, written the year they first got together, right after high school graduation. She had kept it perfectly, even carried it close to her heart. It showed just how much she loved him. The officer’s eyes widened. “But isn’t Mr. Carter your husband?” I gave a strained smile. “We’re already divorced. We just haven’t received the certificate yet.” In the end, it turned out to be a misunderstanding. By the time we left the police station, it was deep into the night. Hannah went to get the car. Only Liam and I remained. He looked at me, then suddenly laughed. “Ethan, you haven’t changed all these years, still fawning over Hannah as always.” I said nothing. Liam continued, “Do you want to know why Hannah likes me?” He suddenly leaned closer. “Because the person she should like is you.” I froze. Liam went on, “She received so many love letters back then, but she only kept yours. At first, I didn’t know it was you who wrote them, until one time, during recess, I came back early and saw you putting a letter into her locker that was identical to the purple envelopes she kept.” “Later, after you threw that confession letter into the trash, I picked it up. On graduation day, I crossed out your name, wrote mine, and confessed to her. She agreed, even told me those letters were interesting and she liked them a lot. That’s how we got together. That wild child even settled down for me.” I stood rigid, from head to toe. Liam’s laugh grew even more arrogant. “I went through all those letters you wrote to her later. They were pretty interesting, actually. You remembered what she liked to eat, what she liked to drink, even what she did every day, like a diary. Oh, and one more thing,” “After college, you heard Hannah and I broke up, so you mustered the courage to pursue her. Too bad, she immediately sent me the chat history and asked me to reply to you on her behalf. All those ambiguous messages during those two years? I sent them, deliberately leading you on. You have no idea how much fun I had watching you dance around for me.” “Later, Hannah and I broke up and got back together repeatedly. Even during that time, reports surfaced of me with different women in hotels, and she never said a word.” “Ethan, ultimately, I have to thank you. You’re the one who made a wild child settle down and fall in love with me.” I was chilled to the bone, unable to utter a single word. Just then, Liam’s eyes suddenly darkened. He grabbed my hand and slapped himself across the face. “Ah!” Before I could react, an even harder slap landed on my face. Followed by Hannah’s icy voice: “Ethan, are you asking for trouble?” She didn’t ask a single question, immediately siding with Liam. Watching Liam’s triumphant smirk, I clutched my burning cheek, then took one last, long look at Hannah. “Hannah, you’re right. You truly are a jerk too.” I turned and left, packing my things as fast as I could and returning to Emerald City that very day. Three days later, I saw a wedding invitation on social media. It was for Hannah and Liam. And my wedding was on the same day as hers.

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1 The day annual bonuses landed, mine came in a box of condoms. “Sales is just the company’s red-light district. All those numbers? From boozing and sleeping around.” I looked up at the secretary, her face stretched into a lewd grin. “Having a blast and making bank? I wouldn’t mind that gig.” A few crude chuckles echoed through the conference room. I snapped my laptop shut, pushing back from the table. Leaning by the window, I opened my messenger. A message from the VP of our rival company, three days old, still sat there. “Ms. Graham, thought about it? Bring your clients over, and the VP spot is yours.” … More lewd laughter drifted from the conference room behind me. Then came Mr. Henderson’s reedy, squawking voice: “Walk out that door, and don’t you dare regret it!” I didn’t look back, striding purposefully towards the open-plan office. Linda, her ten-centimeter heels clicking, chased after me. She deliberately raised her voice in the hallway: “Oh, come on, Ms. Graham, stop pretending you’re so high and mighty.” “Without this company, you’re nothing. And don’t forget to pick up that box of condoms from accounting. Mr. Henderson’s little severance gift.” Colleagues glanced over, whispering. I stopped, sweeping a cold gaze over her. Linda hugged her arms, a triumphant, sneering smile plastered across her face. Instead of getting mad, I smirked, turning towards my workstation. Last month’s sales reports still sat piled on my desk. That was the result of three consecutive all-nighters, my team and I burning the midnight oil. Just ten minutes ago, Mr. Henderson had, with a casual flick of his wrist, erased it all. I looked at the familiar faces beyond my cubicle. Josh kept his head down, pretending to type, his shoulders trembling slightly. Ms. Lee, eyes red-rimmed, shot me a look of suppressed fury. In that moment, my last shred of hesitation vanished. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. The screen showed a message from Mr. Chen, the VP of Genesis Tech, our competitor. “Ms. Graham, what’s your decision?” My fingers flew across the screen. “I’m bringing the project. I want the Sales Director position.” He replied almost instantly. “Deal. Contract’s ready, car’s downstairs.” I shoved my phone back into my pocket and started packing. I didn’t bother with the box full of random junk. I just unplugged my encrypted USB drive. Then, I opened my laptop, my fingers dancing across the keyboard. After copying the core client data, I deleted the files directly. Leaving behind only a heap of worthless surface-level data in the company system. Once that was done, I shut down the computer, feeling utterly refreshed. Mr. Henderson burst out of his office, I hadn’t even noticed him. He stared at my empty desk, the jowls on his face quivering. “Iris Graham, if you walk out that door, I’ll make sure no one in this industry ever hires you!” He pointed a finger at my nose, roaring, “Everyone knows your dirty little secrets! Don’t think changing places will magically clean up your act!” Here we go again with the sleazy rumors. It was his usual tactic, trying to corner me with that kind of low-down garbage. I cut him off impatiently: “Mr. Henderson, save it.” I casually unclipped my ID badge from my neck. In front of everyone, I tore the badge cleanly in half. With a flick of my wrist, the pieces landed precisely in the nearby trash bin. “Keep your threats and your condoms for yourself. Be careful not to screw yourself over.” The entire floor fell silent. Mr. Henderson’s face turned scarlet with rage, his mouth agape, unable to utter a word. I picked up my bag and walked out without a backward glance. Stepping out of the company building, the late autumn chill wind hit my face, yet it felt exhilarating. A black Maybach was parked by the curb. Mr. Chen, the VP himself, got out and opened the car door for me. “Ms. Graham, welcome to Genesis.” No talk of probation periods, just the core employment contract. I signed my name, watching the passing scenery outside the window. I pulled out my phone and posted on social media. The accompanying photo was my brand-new Genesis Tech ID badge. The caption was just a simple line. “New beginnings. Making money with my brains, not my looks.” A few minutes later, my phone vibrated furiously. 2 The day after I left, my old company was in an uproar. According to Josh’s whispered messages, the sales department was in complete chaos. Mr. Henderson slammed the printed client list onto Linda’s face. “That Iris broad always hogged the resources, now they’re yours!” He pointed at the long list, roaring, “Go close those deals! Prove that sales is all about looks!” Linda, holding the folder with only contact information, was brimming with confidence. She changed into a low-cut, tight red dress, her perfume so strong you could smell it two blocks away. Her first target was the multi-million-dollar client, Mr. Thompson from Apex Group. Linda, with two fresh-out-of-college girls in tow, marched straight to Apex Group’s building. She thought it would be the same old song and dance she used to pull with Mr. Henderson. But I knew Mr. Thompson too well. He was a true go-getter, utterly disgusted by suggestive “public relations” tactics. Sure enough, less than half an hour later, Linda emerged, looking utterly deflated. Not only did Mr. Thompson refuse to see her, he called a complaint directly to the company’s front desk. “Tell your Mr. Henderson that if he sends any more inappropriate people to harass us, he can expect a legal letter!” Mr. Henderson, in his office, furiously smashed a cup. Unwilling to scold Linda, he turned his wrath on the rest of the sales department. “It’s all your fault for not backing up Director Linda properly!” “A bunch of useless hacks! Can’t even handle one client!” My former colleague, Ms. Lee, was crying uncontrollably on the phone. “Iris, we can’t take it anymore.” “Mr. Henderson is forcing us to give clients gifts, entertain them at dinners, and even hinting that the female employees should follow Linda’s lead…” I clenched my phone, my voice turning colder. “Hang in there for two more days. The real show’s coming.” Hanging up, I looked at the dense data analysis on my computer screen. At Genesis Tech, I hadn’t wasted a second, working through the night to churn out a proposal. Completely discarding my old company’s “drinking culture.” Mr. Thompson agreed to my invitation. The meeting was set for a quiet business tea room. I didn’t order alcohol, opting instead for a pot of premium Pu-erh tea. I placed the thick analysis report on the table, sliding it towards Mr. Thompson. “Mr. Thompson, this is the proposal tailored for Apex Group.” Mr. Thompson flipped through a few pages, his brows slowly relaxing. “Ms. Graham, you truly understand me.” He closed the document, sighing, “The new people at that previous company are an insult to my intelligence.” I smiled faintly, refilling his teacup. “Professionals handle professional matters, Mr. Thompson. We only discuss business.” The meeting was very productive. Not only did I secure Mr. Thompson’s verbal commitment, but I also gained a crucial piece of information. My former company’s supply chain had a major vulnerability. Since I used to manage supply chain coordination, I knew exactly where their weak points were. At an industry gala that weekend, fate ensured a run-in. Mr. Henderson and Linda arrived, dressed to the nines. Linda was clinging to Mr. Henderson’s arm, her dress slit almost to her thigh. Upon seeing me, she deliberately raised her voice. “Well, well, isn’t it Iris Graham, the one who got kicked out?” All eyes in the vicinity instantly converged on us. Linda sauntered over, swaying her hips, scrutinizing my business attire. “Think you can close deals just by jumping to the competition? Or are you back to sleeping your way to the top?” Mr. Henderson let out a grating, cold laugh beside her. “Iris Graham, even a dump like Genesis can take you in?” “Heard it was Mr. Chen himself who picked you up? Guess you only have talent in that one area.” Their vulgar words echoed through the gala hall. Many people started pointing and whispering about me. I held my glass of juice, watching the two clowns. In that moment, I felt no anger, only a detached amusement, like watching a poorly acted play. 3 Facing Linda’s malicious slander, I didn’t descend into a shouting match like a fishwife. Instead, I merely turned slightly, smiling at the industry titans around me. “Mr. Henderson’s company culture is certainly… unique.” I said, unhurriedly, “After all, when annual bonuses are condoms, I just can’t appreciate that kind of generosity.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it was just clear enough for everyone nearby to hear. A stir went through the crowd, many revealing looks of disdain. Mr. Henderson’s face instantly turned ashen, as if he’d been slapped hard. Infuriated, he pointed at me: “Iris Graham, you just wait!” After the gala, Mr. Henderson didn’t let up. He aggressively spread rumors in several industry group chats, each with hundreds of members. He claimed I’d stolen trade secrets from my former company, even Photoshopped some explicit images. All in an attempt to completely ruin my reputation before the Apex Group tender. Whispers started circulating within Genesis Tech as well. People gossiped in the break room, questioning whether I would bring negative publicity to the company. “That Ms. Graham, her reputation isn’t great, is it?” “Why did Mr. Chen hire someone like her?” Mr. Chen, the VP, walked straight in, slamming a file onto the table. “I value Ms. Graham’s capability.” He scanned the room, his voice icy: “These underhanded tactics just prove our competitor is desperate. Anyone caught gossiping will be out the door.” Standing outside the door, a warmth spread through me. With the company trusting me so much, I couldn’t afford to lose. I didn’t rush to defend myself in the group chats; that would be a waste of time. Instead, I contacted a lawyer directly, getting all of Mr. Henderson’s defamatory screenshots and recordings notarized. At the same time, I reached out to a few former clients who had been burned by Mr. Henderson. We were going to team up and prepare a big surprise for him. The Apex Group bidding conference arrived as scheduled. Mr. Henderson and Linda, with their team, arrived in full force. They carried a beautifully bound proposal. Just a glance at the cover told me it was a plagiarism of an old, discarded draft of mine. Even the formatting hadn’t changed. Linda cornered me by the lounge door. She leaned in, smugly, “Don’t bother, Ms. Graham.” “Mr. Thompson privately agreed that as long as tonight…” She gave an ambiguous wink: “The contract’s ours. Your boring data won’t do anything.” I looked at her as if she were a hopelessly foolish child. “You don’t even know what Mr. Thompson detests most, and you think you’ll win the bid?” Mr. Thompson had a daughter who had been harassed early in her career. That’s why he loathed workplace quid pro quo above all else. Linda was dancing in a minefield, thinking she was waltzing. I couldn’t be bothered to enlighten her, merely sneering, “Is that so? Well, I hope you have a pleasant evening.” Both parties entered the conference room. Mr. Henderson sat opposite me, glaring menacingly. He raised a hand to his neck, miming a throat-slitting gesture. His lips clearly formed: “You’re toast.” I calmly opened my laptop. Mr. Thompson entered, his expression stern. His gaze flickered with distaste as it swept over Linda’s overly revealing dress. When he looked at me, he gave a slight nod. 4 Linda was the first to present. She swayed her hips to the projector screen, as confident as if she were on a red carpet. “At Cornerstone, we boast industry-leading service philosophies…” The entire presentation was a display of provocative posing, with the PPT content utterly vacuous. It was filled with suggestive phrases like “dedicated service” and “premium experience.” When she reached the crucial technical aspects, she stumbled. “Uh… well…” She had to turn to the technician beside her for help, and the atmosphere grew incredibly awkward. Mr. Thompson cut her off coldly: “Mr. Henderson, is this your idea of commitment?” Mr. Henderson immediately broke into a cold sweat, stammering, “Well… Mr. Thompson, we can discuss the terms further…” Mr. Thompson waved his hand impatiently: “Next.” I adjusted my blazer, picked up the clicker, and walked to the stage. My presence commanded the room. No wasted words, just solid data and logical arguments. I pointed to the line graph on the screen: “From what I understand, Cornerstone’s current inventory turnover rate isn’t sufficient to meet Mr. Thompson’s demands.” That sentence struck Mr. Henderson’s Achilles’ heel directly. He slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet: “Iris Graham! You’re leaking former company secrets!” He pointed at me, roaring, “Mr. Thompson, this is corporate espionage! She stole all this data!” He tried to disrupt the meeting, to muddy the waters. I looked at him calmly, a mocking curve to my lips. “Mr. Henderson, these figures are derived from your publicly available financial reports.” “Is it so hard to admit to poor management?” My gaze was sharp: “Also, this is my professional integrity. Unlike some people who only focus their energy on how to hand out condoms to employees.” The room erupted in laughter. Mr. Thompson couldn’t help but smile, his admiration unconcealed. Mr. Henderson’s face turned beet red, but he couldn’t utter a single word in rebuttal. Mr. Thompson announced on the spot: “No further discussion needed.” He closed his folder: “I’m very satisfied with Genesis Tech’s proposal. Ms. Graham, let’s sign.” He completely ignored the Cornerstone group. Linda wasn’t giving up, trying to rush over to flirt and win him back: “Mr. Thompson, please reconsider…” Mr. Thompson frowned and called security. “Please escort this lady out. This is a conference room, not a nightclub.” Linda was dragged out by security, her arm in their grip, having lost one of her high heels. Mr. Henderson’s face was ashen, watching the multi-million-dollar contract fall into my hands. All his arrogance was extinguished in that moment. Walking out of the conference room, Mr. Henderson slumped, utterly defeated, onto a bench in the hallway. Like a mangy dog with its back broken. I walked up to him, looking down at him. “Mr. Henderson, I told you.” “Multi-million dollar contracts aren’t signed by taking off your clothes.” “This project? I’m taking it.” The glass door of the conference room was violently shoved open with a loud thud. Mr. Henderson, face red and tie askew, stormed out. He slammed a thick stack of files onto Ms. Lee’s desk, sending papers flying everywhere. “Useless! What good are you all, you good-for-nothings!”

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I’ve seen ghosts since I was a kid. I couldn’t speak to them, just watch. On our fifth wedding anniversary, I cooked a feast, waiting for Lyra to come home. When I looked up, I saw her ghost. She was curled up in the living room corner, her face a pale, ashen grey, staring intently at me. A chill like ice water drenched me. My hand trembled as I reached for my phone, wanting to call her. Before I could dial, the front door opened. Lyra walked in, embracing me as gently as always. “Sorry, honey, I worked late.” As she held me, I heard her familiar heartbeat, warm and strong. I closed my eyes, telling myself: She’s alive. But when I opened them, the spirit in the corner was still there. My heart sank, a slow, heavy drop. If Lyra was truly gone, then who was this person wearing her skin, holding me? 1 I stared hard at Lyra’s face. I’d looked at that face for twenty years. From elementary school through high school, college to marriage, she’d been by my side every single day. Now, I was seeing a ghost, identical to her, huddled in the corner. I trembled all over, unable to make a sound for a long moment. “Antonio, what’s wrong?” She walked over, her hand gently touching my forehead. “Why are you sweating so much? Are you running a fever?” Her eyes were full of concern, her warm palm resting on my skin. I flinched, stepping back abruptly. The sudden movement knocked over the water glass on the table. Crash! Water spilled everywhere. She froze, her hand suspended in mid-air, looking at me with a bewildered, almost hurt expression. “Antonio? What’s going on?” I forced down the rising panic in my chest. If the ghost in the corner was the real her, then who was this woman in front of me? I couldn’t alert her. I took a deep breath, managing to pull a strained smile onto my face. “It’s nothing,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Come on, let’s eat. The food’s getting cold.” With that, I sat down and served myself a spare rib. She poured me a bowl of soup and then pulled a bottle of red wine from the liquor cabinet. “I’m late today, so I’ll down three glasses as an apology.” I watched the dark red liquid in the glass, then spoke, feigning indifference: “Do you remember that time in high school when you snuck some of your dad’s wine?” I watched her face intently. She paused, then chuckled. “How could I forget? You insisted on trying it, and I couldn’t stop you. You ended up getting completely wasted after two glasses.” “And then?” My grip on the chopsticks tightened, a tremor running through me. “Then you threw up all over me. I took you home, and your mom smelled the booze, thought I’d gotten you drunk, and gave me an earful,” she shook her head. “I didn’t dare say you’d wanted to drink it yourself, so I just took the blame.” My heart clenched. This was a secret only the two of us knew. “What were you wearing that day?” I pressed on. “A white shirt, which you completely ruined. Took ages to wash out,” she smiled, ruffling my hair. “Why the sudden trip down memory lane?” I lowered my gaze, not answering. She even remembered that detail. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the ghost in the corner still watching me, and my unease spiked again. No, it wasn’t enough. I cleared my throat, shifting my gaze back to her, and spoke with a hint of awkwardness. “Today… Dad called. He said he was craving my beggar’s chicken.” She served me another rib. “Alright, I’ll make it tomorrow and take it to him.” “You’ll make it?” I looked up at her. She laughed. “Haven’t I always? You almost burned down the kitchen trying to impress my dad back then. I ended up learning to make it, and even got a few burns on my hands.” “The first time I made it, you mistook salt for sugar. You tasted it, your whole face crumpled up like a prune, but you still insisted it was delicious. I remember thinking, this guy is adorable.” “You even told my dad it was your recipe,” she shook her head. “He bragged about your cooking to everyone, and I never had the heart to expose you.” “Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” she patted my hand. I didn’t say anything more. All the details matched up, yet the ghost was still there. Was I truly losing my mind? No, that was impossible. I’d been born with the Sight; I’d never been wrong about this before. After dinner, she tied on an apron and went into the kitchen. I followed, leaning against the doorframe, watching her closely. Her movements as she prepped the chicken, the way she rubbed in the seasonings, even the sprinkle of salt – it was all exactly as I remembered. The familiar aroma wafted from the kitchen. She turned and smiled at me. “Go sit down. It’ll be ready soon.” I didn’t move. When the beggar’s chicken was placed on the table, I took a bite. The taste was spot on. “Is it good?” She leaned in, her eyes sparkling as she watched me. I nodded. “Yeah, it’s just how I remember it.” She smiled, packed the chicken, and put it in the fridge. Then she took my hand. “Alright, it’s been a long day. Let’s go get some rest.” I leaned against her, feeling her warmth through my clothes, her steady breathing brushing my ear. “Okay.” I closed my eyes. Whether you’re human or ghost, I’m going to find the truth. 2 I followed her into the bedroom. In the corner, the ghost followed too. I averted my gaze, unwilling to look any longer. Lyra made the bed, patting the pillows. “Come on, lie down. You’re tired today, get some rest.” I lay beside her. She reached out and turned off the main light, leaving only a small nightlight on the bedside table. “Antonio,” she turned to face me, “have you been troubled by something lately?” “No,” I stared at the ceiling, “just a bit tired from work.” She took my hand. “If you’re tired, take a break. I’ll take care of us.” Her palm was warm, her voice gentle. My throat tightened. Out of the corner of my eye, I again glimpsed the lonely spirit in the corner. “Do you remember this pen?” I picked up the fountain pen from the bedside table, a classic hero model, its cap slightly worn. She glanced at the pen and chuckled. “Of course I remember. I bought it for your eighteenth birthday. I saved two months’ worth of lunch money for it, bought it at the stationery shop near school. The owner said it was the last one, and I was so afraid someone else would snatch it up.” My heart tightened. She was right. “And do you remember what you wrote on the note when you gave it to me?” I pressed on. “‘You love to write, this pen is for you, Happy Birthday,’” her face flushed slightly. “Actually, I wanted to write ‘I love you,’ but I didn’t dare.” “And how did I respond?” “You didn’t. The next day, you tucked a pack of Milk Duds into my desk. I was so happy I didn’t pay attention in class all day.” I closed my eyes. All true. She pulled off the cap, pointing to the words “Waiting for you” etched on it. “I even scratched my hand with a compass trying to engrave this.” She held out her index finger, a faint mark visible on her fingertip. “So why have you never used this pen?” My voice trembled. “You said you cherished it too much, that you wanted to wait until our wedding day to use it for the invitations.” I took a deep breath, placed the pen back on the nightstand, and lay down, feigning ease. “You have an amazing memory, remembering things from so many years ago.” She smiled, reaching out to ruffle my hair. “How could I forget anything about you?” I lowered my gaze, a thorn piercing my heart. She was right; she remembered everything. But how could she explain the ghost in the corner? I turned onto my side. “Since you have such a good memory,” I stared at her, “let me test you. Do you remember when we went to play by the river as kids?” She thought for a moment. “I remember. That summer was incredibly hot, and you insisted on trying to catch fish.” “Then you fell into the water, and I pulled you out. You were such a dork.” I watched Lyra’s face nervously, afraid of missing any subtle expression. I was the one who had fallen into the water back then, and she had pulled me out. If she agreed with my version, then she was the imposter! She paused, then suddenly tapped my forehead with her index finger. “Are you dreaming? You were the one who fell into the water, and I pulled you out. You choked on quite a bit of water and cried for ages.” I opened my mouth, unable to refute her. “Alright, then. Do you remember the first time we went to the beach?” She looked at me blankly. “We’ve never been to the beach. Did you forget? You always said you wanted to see the ocean, but we never had the time.” A chill ran through me. She was right again. I hadn’t actually been to the beach, I had only said I wanted to go. “Also, when I was little, I had a white cat named Fluffy.” My voice tightened, my tone growing a little agitated. She frowned. “You’ve never had a cat. You were scratched by one when you were twelve, so you’re afraid of them. You avoid them whenever you see one.” I couldn’t utter another word. Every single lie, she accurately saw through. “Sleep now, don’t overthink things.” She pulled the blanket over us, wrapping me in her arms. “You’ve been acting strange today.” I rested my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Hm?” “Nothing.” I closed my eyes. She shifted, habitually draping her arm over my waist, pulling me naturally into her embrace, just like always. I opened my eyes and met the gaze of the ghost in the corner. My mind was a tangled mess. Who should I believe? 3 Days passed like this, and I was still completely lost, a heavy stone weighing down my heart. Until one morning, Lyra was adjusting her collar. She looked at me in the mirror. “Didn’t sleep well again last night?” “Nope.” I rubbed my eyes, looking exhausted. “Dreamt all night.” She turned around, her collar now perfectly straight, and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “Antonio, I need to tell you something.” “Yeah?” “I booked a couples trip to the Maldives a while ago, wanting to surprise you,” she took my hand. “But something came up unexpectedly at the lab, and I can’t get away. Why don’t you go first? I’ll join you in three days.” I paused, surprised. She’d never let me travel alone before. “Why so sudden…” “You’ve been so stressed lately,” she said, smiling as she ruffled my hair. “Go relax. I’ll fly out as soon as I’m done with work.” A thought sparked in my mind. This was a perfect opportunity to test her. I nodded. “Okay.” She turned to pack, and I followed, leaning against the doorframe. She pulled out my favorite shirt from the wardrobe, folding it neatly. Then she carefully placed sunscreen, a baseball cap, my usual medication, and even my preferred eye mask, one by one, into the suitcase. “It’s hot there, so pack more light clothes. Don’t catch a chill, make sure to cover up at night,” she rattled on, her hands never stopping. “You have a sensitive stomach, so I put some soda crackers in your bag. Have them if you get hungry.” I watched her busy back, my eyes stinging. She remembered even these tiny details. “Oh, and that book you wanted to read last time? I downloaded it onto your tablet. You can read it on the plane if you get bored.” She turned back and smiled at me. I lowered my gaze. The more thoughtful she was, the more I felt like a scumbag. Seeing me standing by the door, frozen for so long, Lyra waved her hand in front of my face. “Alright, stop dawdling,” she zipped up the suitcase. “I’ll drive you to the airport.” She came and took my hand, pulling me out the door. I glanced back at the spirit in the corner and saw she hadn’t followed, letting out a silent sigh of relief. Good. It must just be my imagination. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. All the way to the airport, Lyra held my hand, making intermittent small talk. I stared out the window, my mind a chaotic mess. At the airport, she helped me check my luggage and then tucked the boarding pass into my hand. “Call me when you land.” “Okay.” She hugged me, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Have fun.” I walked towards security, then turned back. She stood outside the glass doors, waving at me. My nose stung. She was so wonderful, and yet I’d been doubting her all this time. I closed my eyes, silently vowing: This is the last time. I’ll never doubt her again. Once on the plane, I specifically chose a window seat. After takeoff, I gazed out the window, still seeing no sign of the ghost. The heavy stone in my heart finally lifted. It seemed I needed to schedule a check-up soon. Forcing down the lingering unease, I opened the book she had downloaded for me, letting it distract me. Upon landing, I immediately pulled out my phone and sent her a message: “Arrived safely, don’t worry.” She replied instantly: “Have a great time, waiting for you.” I stared at the screen and smiled. 4 The scenery in the Maldives was breathtaking. Every day, I sent her photos – the beach, the sunset, palm trees. She replied instantly to each one, her tone as gentle as ever. During our video call that evening, she was lounging on the sofa, bathed in warm, yellow light. “Where did you go today?” “Went diving,” I said, sprawling on the bed. “When are you coming? It’s no fun alone.” “Soon, soon,” she chuckled. “Didn’t you always want to see the Maldives? You said we had to come here for our honeymoon, I remember that.” I paused. I’d said that casually in college; I’d almost forgotten. “You still remember?” “I told you, how could I forget anything about you?” Her eyes sparkled. My nose stung with emotion. She stood up to get water, and the phone camera jostled. In that split second, I saw a blurry shadow standing in the hallway behind her. The ghost had reappeared. It was staring intently at Lyra, its expression hostile. A cold dread seeped into my bones. “Antonio? What’s wrong?” She returned with her glass of water. “Bad signal,” I forced a smile. “I’m a bit tired today, I’ll hang up.” After ending the call, I tremblingly opened a flight booking app. The next available flight was in three hours. Before boarding, I dialed her number. No answer. My heart plummeted. She never missed my calls! When I landed, it was past midnight. I rushed home. The lights were off. She wasn’t there, and neither was the ghost. I checked her phone’s location, only to find she was at a hospital. I ran out like a madman. The hospital corridor stretched long, the white lights glaring. I found the ward; the door was ajar. She wasn’t inside. But the ghost was standing by the bedside, looking down at the person on the bed. I drew closer. Lying on the bed was someone with a pale face, eyes closed, tubes everywhere. It was Lyra. I trembled, covering my mouth, barely stifling a cry. Just then, footsteps and voices echoed from the end of the corridor. “Dr. Lee, how’s the patient?” It was Lyra’s voice. “Still the same.” Closer and closer. My body felt nailed to the spot, unable to move. I could only stiffly turn my head. And there, coming into view, was a face identical to hers.

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My son won an award for his college capstone project, which came with a $2,000 cash prize. He used $1,000 to buy himself a pair of limited-edition sneakers, $500 to buy his dad a tailored suit, and the remaining $500 to book a weekend getaway for his grandparents. I thought he was saving an even bigger surprise for me, waiting with a heart full of anticipation. When he noticed me waiting, he frowned and muttered, “You’re just a stay-at-home mom. You’ve never sacrificed anything for me. What right do you have to a cut of my money?” Overhearing this, my husband looked at me with pure disgust. “Stay-at-home moms have it so easy. I’ve given you a wonderful life, and you have the nerve to be greedy for your son’s money! You’re insatiable.” Later, the whole family signed up for premium health insurance policies, leaving me as the only one uninsured. They claimed that since stay-at-home moms didn’t do any “real” work, I wouldn’t get sick. As it turned out, out of the entire family, I was the only one who developed a critical illness from years of chronic overwork. Seeing the astronomical cost of the surgery, they immediately opted to pull the plug on my medical care. In the end, I died entirely alone in a cold hospital room. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. And my son was currently screaming in my face, calling me a control freak. 1 “All you do is hover over me and control every little thing! You won’t let me eat this, you won’t let me drink that—you’re so damn annoying! “Why don’t you just go fucking die?!” My son’s spit flew onto my face, snapping me out of a daze. Looking around, I was utterly shocked by the painfully familiar scene unfolding before me. I had been reborn. I was back in the year my son was in eighth grade! Because it was the final year before the crucial high school placement exams, I had drafted a rigorous study schedule for him. Today was the fifth day of that plan, and the moment he walked through the door, he exploded. He came in cursing and throwing a tantrum. I had barely asked him one question before he hurled that vicious insult at my face. He grabbed the expensive study tablet I had bought him, slammed it onto the floor, and stomped it into pieces. “To hell with English! If you care so much, go learn it yourself! Stop forcing your own pathetic dreams onto me and making me accomplish them for you, you selfish freak!” This was the third time he had thrown a violent tantrum this week. I looked at him and asked calmly, “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t settle for anything less than an elite prep school?” He let out a disdainful scoff. “I’ve been at the top of my class since middle school started. It’s just a prep school; do you seriously think I can’t get in?” My mother-in-law, Brenda, chimed in from the couch. “Exactly, Nora. You’re way too strict with Tyler. Our Tyler is brilliant; he doesn’t need to study all this extra junk. Your schedule is suffocating him. You need to reflect on your own behavior.” My father-in-law, Arthur, spat a sunflower seed shell onto the coffee table and nodded in agreement. I asked them, “One hour of self-study every night, three hours of tutoring on Saturday, and taking all of Sunday off. For a student preparing for high school placement exams, is that really considered strict?” Tyler hurled his heavy backpack onto the floor. “You’re a fucking control freak! You enjoy the power trip, so of course you don’t think it’s strict! I’m a human being, I need to breathe! Give me back my weeknights and weekends!” My husband, Mark, pushed the front door open, his brow deeply furrowed. “What’s all the screaming about? I could hear you guys all the way down the hallway.” He turned his gaze to me. “Nora, are you nagging Tyler again?” The entire family unanimously decided it was my fault. I remembered what happened at this exact moment in my previous life. I had desperately tried to provide evidence that if Tyler didn’t put in the effort, his grades would slip. I was rewarded with nothing but eye rolls and bitter resentment from the whole family. Looking back, I realized how pathetic and ridiculous I had been. This time, I didn’t get angry, and I didn’t panic. I just looked at my son and asked, “So, what do you want to do?” Tyler looked at me in shock, as if he hadn’t expected me to ask that. He stood frozen for a long moment before finally speaking up: “First of all, I get to eat whatever I want, and I go to sleep whenever I want. You are not allowed to manage me!” I nodded. “Okay.” 2 Tyler’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. In pure disbelief, he demanded, “Don’t patronize me! I’m being completely serious!” Mark masked his own surprise and interjected, “Nora, this isn’t the first time I’ve told you this. A growing boy needs more than just studying; he needs rest. You force him to bury his nose in books all day, you’re going to depress him. Do you really not see that you’re the problem here?” Brenda added fuel to the fire. “I’ve said from the start that Nora’s parenting methods were toxic! Our Tyler used to be such a sweet boy, and her parenting has made his temper worse and worse. People outside the family keep asking me if there’s something psychologically wrong with him and telling me to take him to a therapist!” Arthur let out a heavy grunt, angrily tossing a handful of sunflower seed shells onto the floor. He glared at me coldly. “As a mother, you cannot push a child to the brink like this! If we were living in the old days, a mother who drove her son to this point would be thrown in an asylum!” I couldn’t help but laugh. I threw my hands up. “Why is everyone getting so worked up? What did I even say?” Brenda bared her teeth and spat at me, “I don’t need you to say it to know you disagree with letting Tyler rest! It’s not like I just met you yesterday!” I ignored her and looked back at my son. “Do you have any other demands?” Tyler glanced at his dad and grandparents, then tentatively added, “On top of those two, I want you to cancel my forty-five-minute daily screen time limit. I want to be on my phone as long as I want. If I want to game, I game. If I want to watch streams until three in the morning, you are not allowed to interfere!” I nodded again. “Done.” His eyes widened even further. He immediately grabbed a pen and paper, ducked his head, and frantically scribbled down over a dozen demands. I skimmed the list. The gist of it was simple: he wanted me to completely step away from every aspect of his life. He shoved the paper toward me. “Sign it! I’ll only believe you if you sign it!” I swept my gaze over my husband and my in-laws’ reactions. They were all looking at me with smug expressions, fully expecting me to say “no,” ready to jump in and ruthlessly criticize me the moment I did. I had lived that life for nearly ten years. Tyler was not naturally gifted at academics. A concept that another student could grasp in one minute took him half an hour to fully understand. Yet, from a young age, he was obsessed with being number one and wanted everyone to call him a genius. Since he lacked natural talent but desperately wanted the glory of getting into an elite prep school, he had to work twice as hard. In my previous life, when I realized this, I weighed my career against his future and chose him. I quit my job as a teacher, dedicating myself entirely to being a stay-at-home mom. I single-handedly dragged him from the absolute bottom of his grade to the top ten. Every single day, apart from doing chores and waiting on my in-laws hand and foot, my routine consisted of buying him study materials, making schedules, tutoring him one-on-one, solidifying his knowledge, and making sure he didn’t burn out. For almost ten years, year in and year out, I did this. Though the days were monotonous and exhausting, seeing him improve made me feel it was all worth it. I swallowed his constant, unreasonable tantrums, bore the brunt of his family’s baseless accusations, and successfully molded him into an Ivy League design student who even won a prestigious award for his senior thesis. And what was the result? When he stood on that stage to give his acceptance speech, he thanked everyone under the sun. He thanked himself, his dad, his grandparents, his professors, his classmates—he even thanked the stray cats on campus. But he didn’t mention me once. When it came to the prize money, I was entirely excluded. After college, riding on the coattails of the stellar resume I had essentially built for him, he landed an incredible offer at a top firm. The very first month he got paid, he rented an apartment and moved out. For an entire year, he didn’t even come back to visit me on holidays. Later, when the years of repressed stress and exhaustion manifested into a terminal illness, I lay in a hospital bed and begged to see him. He dragged his feet, taking half a month to finally show up. The moment he walked into my room, his face was buried in his phone, and he even chuckled at whatever he was watching. When I tried to speak to him, he cut me off impatiently. “I’m an independent adult now! Are you seriously still trying to micromanage me just for playing on my phone?” After that, the only other time he came to the hospital was when I was on the brink of death. He rushed in and immediately told the doctors to withdraw all life-saving care… Now, staring at the piece of paper in front of me, I smiled. I picked up a pen and signed my name with a fluid stroke. “From today onward, you’re free, Tyler.” 3 My son literally jumped for joy. He kicked his shoes off, threw his jacket on the floor, grabbed a massive bottle of Coke, and bolted into his room to boot up his gaming PC. After playing for a bit, he yelled out into the living room. “Grandma! Order me some KFC! I want fried chicken! Two whole buckets!” Brenda eagerly obliged, as always. “Okay! Whatever my precious grandson wants to eat, Grandma will order it. Unlike some people, who micromanage every bite of food that goes into their own son’s mouth.” As she spoke, she pulled out her phone to order the food, her eyes shooting daggers in my direction, clearly waiting for me to step in and stop her. Tyler hated exercise but loved deep-fried food. At 5’11”, he was already pushing 200 pounds. He was heavily overweight, and his blood panels were all bordering on dangerous levels. I used to try desperately to help him lose weight, cooking him healthy, low-fat meals. But I couldn’t stop his dad from secretly giving him allowance money to buy junk food at school. Because of that, I strictly forbade him from eating any junk food once he got home. Over this one issue alone, the family and I had fought no less than five times. Seeing that I wasn’t saying anything, Brenda deliberately raised her voice to Arthur. “Old man, look! I ordered two whole buckets of fried chicken for Tyler!” Her voice was booming, as if she were terrified I wouldn’t hear her. I picked up my phone and walked outside to take a call, completely ignoring her. I had sent a text earlier to an old colleague asking about job opportunities, and she was calling me back. We used to teach at the same school. Later, I quit to become a housewife, and she quit to open her own private tutoring center. A year ago, when we ran into each other and she found out I had been personally tutoring my son the whole time and hadn’t really left the education sphere, she was thrilled. She practically begged me to join her company as a partner. In my previous life, I had been incredibly tempted, but the thought of Tyler needing my one-on-one attention made me refuse without hesitation. This time, I was going to reboot my life. Hearing that I was ready to join, she excitedly invited me out for dinner. I immediately grabbed my purse and got ready to leave. Seeing this, Brenda asked nervously, “It’s almost six o’clock! Where are you going? Aren’t you making dinner?” “I have plans.” “You have plans?! You can’t just leave! The whole family is waiting to eat!” Brenda scowled, her mouth gaping open like a bottomless pit. “If you have hands, cook it yourself. If you don’t, then starve.” Dropping that sentence, I walked right out the front door. I grabbed dinner with my old colleague, went shopping, and got my nails done. My mind and body experienced a level of relaxation I hadn’t felt in years. In the past, my only thoughts were helping my son be number one and taking care of the family so my husband could focus on work. My mind was always tightly wound. The smile had long vanished from my face, replaced only by deepening wrinkles with each passing day. Tonight, doing something so simple with a friend made me feel like I had traveled back ten years in time. By the time I got home, it was almost 10:00 PM. The living room lights were blazing. Mark was sitting on the couch, his face dark as thunder, waiting for me. 4 “So you finally decided to come back?” I looked at him calmly. “I’m not lost, obviously I know how to come home.” His face darkened further. He pointed at the disaster zone on the floor and yelled, “Do you see this?! Your precious son threw all this! There’s sunflower seed shells trailing all the way to his bedroom door! And chip crumbs, and dirty tissues! You turned a perfectly good house into a garbage dump! “And look at the time! He ate two buckets of fried chicken before dinner, then ate an entire takeout box during dinner, and now he had his grandmother make him a huge bowl of noodles! If he keeps eating like this, he’ll be over 200 pounds by tomorrow! “I’m not done! I just checked his backpack. He hasn’t written a single word of his homework today! He’s been playing that game since six o’clock! Is this a joke to you?” He grew more agitated the more he spoke. He turned and slapped the calendar on the wall, emphasizing, “He has midterms in ten days! And right after midterms is the parent-teacher conference! I already bragged to my coworkers that my son is a genius who always ranks in the top ten, and they’re waiting for me to send them pictures from the conference! How the hell is he supposed to get top ten with this kind of studying attitude?!” I listened quietly to his rant, then let out a small laugh. “Wow, so you actually knew all of this? I assumed you were completely clueless, considering how you always accused me of being a tyrant who was driving her child insane every time I tried to discipline him.” His face changed. He choked on his words for a long moment before squeezing out, “Don’t play games with me! You’re his mother! You know better than anyone what’s good for him! Letting him do whatever he wants is absolutely not loving him!” He waved his hand dismissively, barking an order at me. “Look, I know you’re just putting on a show to teach him a lesson, but time is precious. Drop the act and go rein him in!” I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not acting. Since I signed that agreement, I absolutely will not go back on my word. If you want to manage him, go right ahead. It’s not like he’s only my son.” He puffed his chest out righteously. “I have to work and make money to provide for you!” I pulled out the employment contract I had just signed and tossed it on the table. “What a coincidence. I have a job now too. $4,000 base salary plus commission. I start tomorrow.” He picked it up, skimmed it, and all the fire drained out of him. He started stammering, “Y-you’re serious?” I shrugged. He hurriedly walked over, pushed me down onto the couch, and started lecturing me with faux earnestness. “Why are you doing this? You have a roof over your head and food on the table. Why do you need to go out and show your face to the world? Is the $3,000 allowance I give you every month not enough?” I sneered. “Try living on it yourself, and you’ll see if it’s enough.” He fell silent for a moment, then pulled out his phone to show me a video of a female livestreamer. “Do you really think making $4,000 at a tutoring center is easy? What kind of ‘good job’ can a middle-aged married woman realistically get? They’re lying to you. In the end, they just want you to do this kind of trashy, borderline-explicit livestreaming. Look at this woman—how disgusting and cheap is she? Is that what you want to become?” His words were dripping with such vile misogyny it made me sick. I glared at him coldly. “Is your brain full of actual garbage? You’re filthy, so everything you look at seems filthy to you!” He scoffed, licked his lips, and tried another angle. “No, seriously, your son is at the most critical stage of his life right now. If he bombs his high school placement exams, he’ll have to go to some mediocre public high school. Can a mediocre high school get him into an Ivy League? Definitely not! If he doesn’t, what kind of future will he have?” I turned my head toward my son’s bedroom and shouted, “Tyler! Can you get into a top prep school without my help?!” Tyler, who just happened to be walking out to use the bathroom, heard me and let out a contemptuous laugh. “You make it sound like the only reason I got top ten before was because of you. I got those grades because I’m smart! It has nothing to do with you!” Heh. Those were the exact lines his grandparents constantly fed him to stroke his ego, and he actually believed them. His IQ really was a tragedy. 5 Seeing this, Mark’s face turned incredibly ugly. He had always played the role of the loving, indulgent father. He was nowhere to be found during the grueling daily grind of actual parenting, but the second Tyler got good grades, he’d rush to the parent-teacher conferences to soak up all the glory. After holding it in for a long time, he finally spat out, “Tyler, your mom is really mad.” My son’s face instantly darkened, and he glared at me with murderous intent. “What the fuck, are you trying to back out of the deal?!” Brenda interrupted, trying to steal my lines. “That’s right! Your mom wants to back out! You’ve eaten enough tonight, stop eating, or she’ll just nag you to death again.” Look at that. The whole family knew I was right; they just didn’t want to be the ones the kid hated. Tyler’s rebellious streak flared up. He picked up his massive bowl of noodles and started shoveling them into his mouth right in front of my face. His cheeks puffed in and out, genuinely looking like a pig at a trough. Mark and Brenda stared at me, waiting for me to blow up. Instead, I gave a bright smile and gave my son a thumbs up. “Your dad is right. You’re a growing teenager. Eat as much as you want.” In that moment, I saw a flash of unprecedented panic in Mark’s and Brenda’s eyes. Ten days passed just like that. The midterm results were posted. Ranked 200th in his grade. A catastrophic, sheer-drop decline! The entire family was convinced I wouldn’t be able to keep up the act anymore and would finally tear up the agreement.

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1 To surprise my husband, I secretly scheduled an intimate rejuvenation surgery. But when the procedure was over, the area that was supposed to be a delicate pink was as black as charcoal. Furious, I confronted the surgeon. She just covered her mouth and giggled. “Oh, my apologies. I must have mixed up the lightening agent with the tanning solution.” “Besides,” she added, “you know how dark you were to begin with, right? What’s a little darker?” Rage boiled in my veins. I grabbed a stool, ready to smash it over her head. In the struggle, her phone fell to the floor. The screen lit up, and the wallpaper made me freeze. … Looking at her face again, I finally remembered. I had seen that same face on Wyatt’s phone screen once. He’d told me she was just some celebrity, a random wallpaper he’d picked. I had forced down the unease, telling myself not to be a jealous, suspicious wife. But it was clear now he’d been lying to me for a very long time. When Wyatt arrived, he rushed straight to Jenna, completely oblivious to me sitting in the corner of the room. He looked at her red, swollen cheek, his face a mixture of anger and concern. “Jenna, are you okay?” She burst into tears and threw herself into his arms, the picture of a wronged victim. They clung to each other, a handsome man and a beautiful woman, a perfect pair. It was such a picturesque scene that I almost forgot I was the man’s wife of ten years. Wyatt stroked Jenna’s face, his voice thick with fury. “Who did this to you?” Jenna glanced at me, and her sobs intensified. “Some old woman, in her thirties. I just made a tiny mistake, and she attacked me.” “Where is this old woman?” I set my water glass down, my eyes cold as I stared at his back. “Right here.” Wyatt must have been too consumed by anger, too heartbroken, to recognize the voice of the woman who had shared his bed for a decade. He spun around, his face a mask of rage, and only froze when he saw me. “What are you doing here?” “Wyatt, honey, you know this old woman?” Jenna asked, clinging to his arm as she sized me up. A complex expression crossed Wyatt’s face. After a moment of internal struggle, he finally introduced me. “This is my wife, Sienna.” “What? This old… this patient is your wife?” “Patient? Sienna, what’s wrong? Are you sick?” My lips tightened. I didn’t know how to answer. Admitting I’d gone behind my husband’s back for a procedure like this, all to please him, was humiliating. But Jenna had no such qualms. She eagerly explained everything. “She’s not sick. She was here for an intimate lightening procedure. Wyatt, it’s all my fault. I accidentally made her even darker. Do you think it will affect your… married life?” I gripped the hem of my shirt, a wave of shame and fury washing over me. Wyatt and I hadn’t been intimate in over a year. At first, he said he was too busy with work, too tired, that he’d lost his libido. To spark his interest, I bought all sorts of lingerie, trying everything I could think of to seduce him. But he was like a statue, completely unmoved, leaving me to feel like a clown putting on a pathetic show. Then, I thought of the cosmetic procedures all the women in my social circle were getting. After some research, I found this reputable clinic. I had hoped the surgery would fix things between us, but instead, I was met with this medical disaster. And now, it seemed my husband was having an affair with the surgeon responsible. Before I could demand an explanation, Wyatt spoke first. “What were you doing getting a procedure like that? At your age, are you trying to go out and fool around?” A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I stared at him in disbelief. “What did you just say?” “I asked why you would get such a trashy procedure. And did you hit Jenna?” A trashy procedure. I almost laughed. He walks in, embraces his mistress, shows zero concern for what she’s done to my body, and is completely consumed with defending her. He even had the audacity to mock my age in front of her. And then he accused me of being indecent. I smashed my water glass at his feet. Shards flew, one of them slicing Jenna’s ankle. “I am done with you both.” 2 Jenna let out a whimper, clutching the bleeding cut on her ankle. Wyatt panicked, about to call for a doctor. “It’s a scratch. It will heal in a minute. Wyatt, what are you so flustered about? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation? Who is she to you?” Jenna bit her lip, her eyes misty. She turned to me and bowed deeply. “Miss Miller, Wyatt and I are childhood sweethearts. We’ve known each other since we were kids. I just moved back from overseas a year ago.” “What happened today was truly an accident, but… I didn’t use that much tanning solution. You were already quite dark to begin with…” I raised my hand and slapped her, hard. “First, your professional negligence caused a medical accident.” “Second, you disclosed a patient’s private information without consent and then publicly shamed her body.” “Third, that man you’re clinging to is my husband.” “You cross me again, and I will slap you so hard your own mother won’t recognize you.” Jenna fell silent, looking like a frightened rabbit as she buried her face in Wyatt’s chest and cried. A moment later, the slap was returned. The wedding band on Wyatt’s finger, our wedding band, sliced a long, bloody gash next to my eye. His gaze was cold and furious. “Jenna already told you it was a mistake. It wasn’t on purpose. Can’t you show a little compassion?” “Sienna, are you going through menopause early?” I smiled, took a few steps back, grabbed a plastic chair, and charged, swinging it wildly at his head. Unfortunately, it was only plastic. It wouldn’t kill him. For our entire marriage, I had been the perfect wife: gentle, soft-spoken, accommodating. This was the first time Wyatt had ever seen me lose control. He was so stunned that he just stood there and took the blows. It was Jenna’s screaming and shaking that finally snapped him out of it. Wyatt snatched the chair from my hands, his eyes a mixture of shock and hurt. “You hit me?” “Didn’t you just hit me first?” He looked at the red handprint on my cheek and the cut by my eye, and it finally dawned on him what he had done. But before a flicker of guilt could even register, Jenna started gasping for air, clutching her chest. She claimed the shock had triggered a heart condition. Wyatt swept her into his arms and rushed out. As he passed me, his expression turned back to stone. “I only hit you because you hurt Jenna first. If anything happens to her heart, Sienna, I won’t let you get away with it.” The scene was painfully familiar. Years ago, I was kidnapped by one of his enemies, a time bomb strapped to my chest. He had said the exact same thing to the kidnapper. If anything happens to Sienna, I won’t let you get away with it. That was my first brush with death. The kidnapper left me in an abandoned warehouse. By the time Wyatt found me, there was less than a minute on the timer. I told him to run, but he refused. He held me and said if we were going to die, we’d die together. We kissed as the timer counted down, and in that moment, I knew my life had been worth living. With ten seconds left, we took a gamble and cut a random wire. It was the right one. From that day on, I gave him everything I had, without reservation. I thought our happiness would last a lifetime. A tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away. The sweeter the memory, the more bitter the present. I, Sienna Miller, would not be the pitiful woman who cried and begged her cheating husband to stay. When Wyatt came home, I was pruning flowers. He swept the vase off the table, shattering it. “Jenna almost didn’t make it. You are going to go and apologize to her.” “And if I don’t?” I sneered, thinking of her perfectly healthy complexion and terrible acting. My attitude enraged him. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me close. “If you don’t, I will tell everyone about your little ‘rejuvenation’ surgery.” My pupils constricted. I stared into his eyes. There was no love there. Only a desperate need to protect another woman. “Wyatt, do you even love me at all anymore?” His gaze flickered, a strange emotion passing through his eyes. After a long moment, he let me go. “You were in the wrong. I’m just making you take responsibility for your actions.” The last ember of affection I held for our past died out. “Fine. I’ll go.” I pushed open the door to her hospital room. Jenna was lying in bed, looking frail and teary-eyed. When she saw Wyatt, she started sobbing. “Wyatt, I was so scared. I thought I’d never see you again.” He pulled her into his arms, his face full of concern. Seeing me, Jenna trembled with fear. “Miss Miller, are you going to hit me again?” I bowed deeply. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Vance. Although your medical error has permanently disfigured me, I shouldn’t have resorted to violence.” “And I shouldn’t have been jealous that you were embracing my husband. That was petty of me.” “I apologize for frightening you. I will cover all of your hospital bills and expenses.” My pitch-perfect, heartfelt apology completely disarmed her. 3 She snuggled into Wyatt’s arms and nodded magnanimously. “I forgive you, Miss Miller.” A flicker of pity crossed Wyatt’s face. “Jenna, you get some rest. I’ll take her home and then come back to stay with you.” I opened the door and walked out, my expression placid. Wyatt reached for my hand out of habit, but I pulled away. He froze for a second but said nothing. When we got home, I got out of the car. Wyatt called to me from the driver’s seat. “Sienna, let’s just put this behind us. As long as you don’t hurt Jenna again, I can forget what you did.” I didn’t look back. That night, a video shot to the top of the trending charts. In it, I was bowing and sincerely apologizing to Jenna. The internet exploded. 【WTF? A CEO’s wife is being bullied by a mistress like this? This is insane!】 【So a doctor messes up, and the patient has to apologize? What kind of backward world is this? Is this homewrecker the only person on her family tree?】 【And the husband doesn’t even stand up for his wife? He’s cuddling the other woman right in front of her! Scumbag and a slut, I hope they both rot!】 A tidal wave of hate crashed down on Jenna and Wyatt. I watched the reporters swarming the hospital entrance and smiled. I was never afraid of the surgery being exposed. I had been very careful in the hospital room, planting and retrieving a micro-camera with a few swift, seamless movements. My father-in-law’s call came before Wyatt’s. When I answered, I said nothing. After a long silence, I heard his weary, shame-filled sigh on the other end. “If you can’t bring yourself to say it, then I will.” I let out a soft laugh. “The deal we made all those years ago… it still stands, of course.” … Jenna lost her job. Not only was she blacklisted from the entire medical community, but she also became a public pariah. She threw a fit, threatening suicide. Wyatt, worried she might actually do it, brought her home to keep an eye on her. The moment she saw me, Jenna flew into a rage. “You set us up? You pretended to apologize just so you could film it and ruin my reputation online!” “Sienna, so what if you’re a little dark? You’ve always been dark! You’re just a slut with ugly, dark skin!” “Wyatt wouldn’t touch you even if you painted yourself pink! You look like a clown in that lingerie!” So, that’s how he talked about me to her. I looked at Wyatt. His expression was calm. “Jenna is upset. It’s normal for her to want to vent. People are trying to doxx her right now. I’m worried. I need you to…” “Let her stay. I don’t mind.” Wyatt and Jenna were both stunned. I was so calm, it was as if I hadn’t heard a word she’d said. That night, I knocked on Jenna’s door with a glass of water. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me. “Relax. It’s just some water.” I placed the glass on her nightstand. “I’m tired. Seeing how Wyatt protects you, both in public and in private… I know when I’m beat.” “Sienna, I don’t know how much of that is true, but you’re not stupid. You know you can’t win against me.” Jenna looked at the glass of water, a smug, triumphant gleam in her eyes. “Wyatt has loved me since we were kids. If I hadn’t gone abroad and broken his heart, he never would have married you. Do you know why he hasn’t touched you in over a year? Because I came back.” “He never even mentions you to me. He’s afraid it will upset me. But the day you came to my clinic, I knew exactly who you were.” “I mixed up the lightening agent and the tanning solution on purpose. It was a little lesson for you. Don’t be so possessive of another woman’s man! You should be the one to file for divorce!” I nodded, a look of profound sadness on my face, and returned to my room. That night, Wyatt and Jenna were at it for hours. The next morning, Wyatt went to the office, but Jenna didn’t get out of bed. I walked into her room, holding a small bottle, and gently tapped her cheek with my foot. Out like a log. It was evening when Jenna finally woke up. The sound of a mirror shattering and a piercing shriek came from her room. “Sienna! What did you do to me?!”

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It had been twenty days since Julian and I started our cold war. Today, he posted a picture on Instagram. Fingers intertwined with the school’s most popular girl. Quietly, I logged into the college application portal and changed my top choice to Lancewood University, a thousand miles away. At a party, one of his buddies teased him, “Chloe, if you don’t sweet-talk him soon, Julian’s actually going to end up with someone else.” I softly whispered an apology. Julian’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Forget it. Go home and pack your bags. We’re heading out tomorrow for the start of the semester.” I offered a vague hum of agreement. Julian didn’t know I had already bought a bus ticket to Lancewood for tonight. 1 I am the daughter of the housekeeper for Julian’s family. When I was seven, we moved into a small room on the first floor of their house. My duty was to take care of his everyday needs. For ten whole years, attending to him became a task etched into my bones. I was docile and well-behaved. Julian’s mother often praised me. But Julian hated me. The first time we met, he was standing on the staircase wearing a crisp white button-down and tailored shorts, looking as perfectly put together as a porcelain doll. I was wearing a faded, torn sundress, staring blankly at everything around me. The disgust in his eyes was impossible to hide. His mother introduced me. She told him I was Mary’s daughter, Chloe. My father had run off, and with nowhere else to go, we had come to stay with Mary. He didn’t say a word, just turned and walked upstairs. His mother told me that from then on, I was responsible for taking care of Julian. My mother also warned me. She said the family situation was complicated, and it was a miracle we were allowed to stay. She told me to talk less, do more, and absolutely never make Julian angry. I knew Julian didn’t like me. To make sure we could stay, I tried to make myself as invisible as possible. Every day, I quietly organized his clothes and cleaned his room. For the first three months, Julian didn’t speak a single word to me. That year, he got sick. His mother had been in a bad mood and was traveling overseas. The family doctor came and prescribed medicine, but by nighttime, his coughing still hadn’t stopped. I remembered a home remedy my grandmother used to make: poached pears with peppercorns. When I made it and brought it to him, Julian looked at it with absolute revulsion. “Chloe, are you trying to poison me? What kind of hillbilly concoction is this?” I replied timidly, “It’s not poison. The pear is good for you. It stops the coughing.” Julian looked annoyed. “If it doesn’t work, will you get the hell out of my house?” I froze, standing to the side, not daring to breathe. Julian let out a scoff and drank it down. The next morning, his coughing was much better. 2 Before elementary school started, my mom found a boarding school for me. It was a bit remote, meaning I could only come back on weekends. I felt a wave of relief. Being away from my mom meant I wouldn’t make things difficult for her in the house, and I wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around Julian anymore. While I was packing and waiting for the bus, my mom ran over, completely out of breath, to tell me the news. Julian’s mother wanted me to attend the same elementary school as him. She wanted me to take care of him at school. I whispered, asking if I could just not go. My mom grabbed me by the shoulders. “Chloe, are you stupid? Julian’s school is the best in the city. Do you know how many people would kill to get in?” I lowered my eyes and didn’t say another word. 3 From that day on, I became Julian’s shadow. I followed him from elementary school straight through middle school. I got his lunch, carried his backpack, and did his homework. Everyone knew I was a tail he couldn’t shake off. By middle school, he had made a whole group of friends. And I was just the tail trailing far behind them. Always monitoring his mood, always anticipating his needs. His friends joked that I was his most loyal admirer. If Julian told me to go North, I wouldn’t dare take a step South. The only thing that never changed was his disdain for me. In eighth grade, Julian went out with his friends and got his favorite jacket dirty. He dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night and ordered me to hand-wash it. I was wearing a thin spaghetti-strap nightgown, my face burning red with embarrassment. Julian looked away awkwardly and sneered, “With a body that flat, who’d even want to look?” The quiet insecurity of a teenage girl began to take root. During our sophomore year, the academic pressure was crushing. I stayed up day and night doing practice tests. On a whim, Julian decided he wanted to eat my cooking. He demanded I make his lunch every night and bring it to school for him the next day. By the time I finished my practice tests and cooked his meals, it was past midnight. Then I still had to wake up early to make sure he got to school on time. At lunch, I heated up the food and brought it to his desk. His friend threw an arm around him and teased, “Look at Julian, getting home-cooked meals from his little wife.” Julian’s face instantly turned to ice. With a look of pure disgust, he shoved the food I had just heated up over to his desk-mate to eat. I didn’t say anything. I just waited quietly for them to finish, washed the container, and went back to my practice tests. That year, I finally started to develop, much later than the other girls. I absolutely hated running during P.E. class. But I couldn’t get out of it. I wasn’t Julian. During P.E., he usually just played basketball on the other court, and the teachers never bothered him. Whenever it was my turn to run, some guys would always whistle at me. I unconsciously slowed my pace. Oliver, a guy from the class next door, happened to walk by and handed me his uniform jacket. It caused a huge commotion. I had seen him at the opening assembly. Rumor had it his family’s company was massive. He was polite and gentle, and both his looks and his grades were at the very top of the school. “Put this on. You still have half a mile to run.” After a moment of hesitation, I took it. Later, someone spread a vicious rumor in class, saying I was shameless, deliberately trying to seduce Oliver, and even wearing his jacket to show off. Sitting in the back row, Julian violently kicked a desk over. It hit the floor with a deafening crash. Everyone instantly shut up. That evening, Julian didn’t wait for me to walk home. He said since I was so capable, I should just have Oliver take me home. I sighed, dug out some change, and went to wait for the public bus. To my surprise, Oliver was there too. He was quietly listening to an audiobook, and he waved when he saw me. I sat next to him, and he took out an earbud. I knew the jacket incident had caused him trouble too, so I softly apologized. Oliver just smiled, unbothered. “Chloe, don’t listen to the rumors. Just focus on your studying. You have two and a half years until college. Have you thought about where you want to go?” Oliver had the kind of gentle, elegant good looks that were the complete opposite of Julian’s sharp, aggressive handsome face. I was stunned for a moment. Where did I want to go to college? I had never even thought about it. My only thought was how to get my grades higher, and then higher still. I couldn’t afford tutoring, so my mom had managed to borrow Julian’s old notes for me. I had to admit, Julian was smarter than me. He often understood a concept the first time he looked at it. I had to review and practice relentlessly just to grasp the basics. Having his notes was genuinely a huge help. My mom had told me to just apply to whatever colleges Julian chose. His family was wealthy and had connections; his choices would definitely be the right ones. I didn’t know which college he was going to apply to. Oliver smiled gently. “Think about it carefully. Where do you really want to go?” When I got home, my mom told me Julian wasn’t coming back for dinner. She asked where he was. I shook my head and said I didn’t know. By the time Julian finally came home, it was past midnight. He looked exhausted, and there was blood on his hands. He walked in, gave me a cold glance, and went straight upstairs. I quietly asked if he needed me to help bandage his hands. He ignored me and kept walking. I went online and started researching different universities. It was the very first time. The first time I clearly realized I could leave Julian. I could go to a place I actually wanted to be. A while later, feeling uneasy, I asked my mom if she had ever thought about leaving the family. After all, we couldn’t live here forever. My mom looked a bit lost. She said that ever since she divorced my dad, she had worked for them. Even though Julian had a terrible temper sometimes, his mother was relatively easy to get along with. In all these years, I had never once seen Julian’s father at the house. I only knew bits and pieces from overheard conversations. His father’s company was massive, and he was always busy. His parents had a terrible relationship; it was an arranged marriage. After Julian was born, his father practically moved in with his mistress. His mother raised him, but aside from working, she traveled constantly, leaving my mom to take care of the house. My mom said her original plan was to work here until I graduated college, then take her savings and start a small business. I softly asked if she had considered leaving as soon as I finished high school. My mom stayed silent, stroked my hair, and didn’t say a word. 4 Ever since the jacket incident, Julian found new ways to torture me every single night. If it wasn’t fetching him water, it was organizing his desk. Or changing his bedsheets, or washing his new clothes by hand. I was just thankful I wasn’t sharing a bed with my mom anymore, so she didn’t have to see it and worry. If Julian didn’t sleep, I wasn’t allowed to sleep either. I had to stay visible, constantly doing something. A few times, the exhaustion hit me so hard I just passed out. When I woke up, I was always on the sofa in his room. And Julian would already be gone. I started taking the public bus by myself. It took longer, but my heart felt lighter. I figured if I pissed him off enough, maybe he’d just ignore me forever. Of course, that was impossible right now. All I could do was use my studying as an excuse to stop spending all my time trying to please him. A week later, Julian had a basketball game. Normally, I’d buy his sports drinks and have his change of clothes ready. This time, I didn’t go. I stayed in the classroom, memorizing vocabulary words. My mom called, saying Julian had been in a terrible mood lately. His mother had asked her to tell me to take better care of him. She had ordered bubble tea to the court and told me to go pick it up. I took the drinks and sat on the sidelines. A few girls were giggling and gossiping nearby. “Told you. She couldn’t stay away. Julian ignores her for a few days, and she panics.” “A lapdog needs to know its place. She tried to play hard to get, but she caved.” I didn’t say a word. On the court, Julian jumped and sank a perfect shot, drawing cheers from the crowd. He stared right at me and gestured for me to hand out the drinks. I handed them to the other players first. I brought the last cup over to him. He had his hands resting behind his back, looking at me with a malicious glint in his eye. I stood there in the sun, holding out the cup, absorbing the mocking stares of everyone around us. I said quietly, “Julian, your drink.” He didn’t look at me. His voice was lazy. “Hold it up to me. I sprained my wrist. It hurts.” I unwrapped the straw, put it in the cup, and held it up to his mouth. Julian leaned down and took a few sips. His friends whistled and hollered at him. He just smirked, unbothered. I genuinely didn’t understand what he was trying to prove. Until I turned around and saw Oliver sitting on the bleachers across from us. Was he trying to show off in front of Oliver? They both came from wealthy, influential families. Both were incredibly good-looking and at the top of the class. It was inevitable that people compared them. I just hadn’t expected Julian, who usually ignored everyone, to start caring about Oliver. I didn’t overthink it. I just did as I was told, holding the straw to his lips. At least if Julian was in a good mood, he wouldn’t make my life miserable, and I’d be able to get some sleep tonight.

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1 In the fourth year of my marriage to Jasper Blackwood, the childhood sweetheart who swore he’d marry no one else, I was induced to deliver my fifth stillborn child. Through it all, he loved me as if I were his entire world, comforting me that it just wasn’t our time yet. When I became pregnant again, I found the top specialist in the country, begging him to help me save this baby. He just sighed. “Ma’am, the first child you delivered for your ex-husband four years ago caused permanent damage. It’s very difficult for you to carry a pregnancy to term.” My mind went blank. Jasper and I got married right after college. What ex-husband? What first child? I stumbled home, and as I pushed open the door, I heard voices. “Dad, are you done playing with her yet?” “When you are, can you send her away? I want to live with Auntie Felicity all the time. I’m tired of hiding from her.” A man’s soft laugh. My ex-husband. “You’re a clever one, Noah. She still has no idea her memories have been altered. She doesn’t even remember that I divorced her for Felicity.” Then, Jasper’s voice, nonchalant. “When Felicity was diagnosed as infertile, I promised I’d give her a child to fulfill her dream.” “As for Rachel… seeing as she’s willing to try for a sixth baby, I suppose she’s passed my little test of devotion. I’ll give her a real marriage certificate. A proper reward.” My head exploded with pain. I leaned against the wall, tears streaming down my face in silence. The memories were fake. The marriage was fake. The two men I loved most in the world… neither of them had ever truly loved me. … My phone buzzed. It was the acceptance letter from the architectural design program in Milan—the one I’d been applying to for five years. I wiped my tears, about to reply, but the email vanished before my eyes. The voices from the study started again. “That’s the fifth time you’ve deleted that email.” Jasper’s voice was flat. “What if she remembers something in Milan? How would I get her back for the procedure? Besides, after I ‘married’ her, no one dared to call her the bastard daughter of a mistress again. She shouldn’t be so greedy.” Those quiet words shattered my heart into a million pieces. But Jasper, I remembered everything now. I remembered the despair when my first husband cheated. I remembered the agony of you forcing me onto a surgical table, rewriting my mind. All these years, the love I cherished was nothing but poison coated in sugar. The two men I loved most in my life had personally dragged me from one hell and thrown me into another. To understand Jasper’s world, I had poured myself into architecture, staying up all night to master dense textbooks, my fingers raw and blistered from drafting pencils. From intern to project lead, I applied to the Milan program every year, just to be able to stand beside him as an equal. I never imagined that the life-altering path I had chosen for him was nothing but a joke. In his eyes, his love and his name were just charity, a gift to indulge my foolish fantasy. I went downstairs to escape that suffocating house, but the little boy, Noah, burst out of a room. He had the same two tear-shaped moles as my first baby. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. I took a hesitant step toward him. The next second, I was shoved violently from behind. A porcelain vase on the stair landing crashed at my feet, the shards slicing into my ankle, drawing blood. Felicity stood there, tears streaming down her face, grabbing my hand and slapping her own cheek with it. “Rachel, you can’t just kidnap my child because you can’t have your own!” “I’m sorry! I know you’re still angry that Jasper helped me move while you were having the induction. I promise I won’t bother him again!” I stared at her familiar face, frozen to the core despite the summer heat. She was the one who had led the charge at school, calling me a bastard. For four years, she had called Jasper away every time I needed him, casually exposing my deepest wounds in front of others. And because of my fake memories, I had thought she was my best friend, forgiving her every transgression. All of her blatant, malicious games… Jasper had allowed them. Before I could react, Jasper rushed out. He glanced at my bleeding ankle for a fraction of a second before hurrying to Felicity, frantically checking her face for a non-existent mark. “Rachel, you’ve already lost five of your own children. Now you’re trying to take Felicity’s? Are you even human?” I stared at him in disbelief. But that was my child… my child… For four years, my body had been torn apart five times, my heart shredded by hope and loss. All those nights we held each other, I thought we were enduring the pain together. But I was the only one suffering. He was just a cold observer, treating my agony as a test, and now he was reprimanding me for it. I took a deep breath. “I didn’t do anything.” The words were barely out of my mouth when the boy stomped hard on my injured ankle. “She was bullying my mommy! Uncle Jasper, save me! I don’t want this bastard to take me away!” I saw the cunning glint in his eyes, and the pain in my heart was so sharp I couldn’t breathe. The child I had given birth to was helping my enemies destroy me. Jasper’s face darkened. He dragged me into the shower. My body trembled in an almost Pavlovian response, and I pushed against him. “Jasper… let me go!” He grabbed me by the throat, his voice like ice. “Rachel, if you won’t even spare a child, then don’t blame me for punishing you like this.” A punishingly cold jet of water slammed down on my head. I couldn’t breathe, struggling against his iron grip, the feeling of drowning overwhelming me. Through the haze, I saw the eighteen-year-old Jasper, risking punishment to storm the girls’ dorm and snatch a showerhead from Felicity’s hand as she tried to douse me. “As long as I’m here, no one will ever hurt Rachel.” His voice echoed in my ears, but the twenty-eight-year-old Jasper was now using Felicity’s methods to hurt me. I forced my eyes open and saw Noah comforting Felicity. “I stomped on that bitch really hard, Mommy. I bet she won’t dare to bully you again.” My heart felt as if it were being crushed by a tiny pair of hands. The pain was so intense that my vision went black, and I lost consciousness. When I woke up, Jasper was gently applying ointment to my ankle, as if he hadn’t been the one to hurt me. “Felicity bought this for you. Don’t be angry with her anymore. Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to see you injured?” I looked at the tube of ointment, unsure who was the bigger hypocrite. Years ago, Jasper had thrown this exact brand of cheap ointment in the trash. “Don’t use this cheap stuff with hormones in it. I’ll buy you the best.” But now, because it was a gift from Felicity, this same cheap ointment was a treasure in his eyes. The wound stung. I quietly pulled my foot back. “Rachel, Felicity and Noah were frightened today, so they’re staying in the guest room. They don’t want to see you. Could you please just stay in our room for now?” In my own home, I was a prisoner in my room because of another woman. My throat was dry. I nodded silently. I booked a flight to Milan for three days from now. He didn’t know. The doctor had said that with proper care, there was a good chance this baby would survive. But in three days, he would never see either of us again. I had just finished packing when the door was kicked open. Jasper stormed in, his hand clamping around my wrist like a vice. “Rachel, I never knew you could be so vicious! You put nettles in Felicity’s bed and hired paparazzi to film her face being ruined!” “The internet figured out it was our house. Now everyone is calling her a homewrecker. Are you satisfied?” A self-mocking smile touched my lips. “Since you’ve already decided I’m the villain, let’s get a divorce.” Jasper froze, then moved to block me as I tried to wheel my suitcase past him. Before he could speak, Felicity rushed in and knelt before me, crying. “Rachel, please don’t threaten Jasper like this, okay? Fine, I put the nettles there myself! Is that what you want to hear?” “I have no reason to live anymore anyway! I’ll just die and get out of your way for good!” She made a dash for the balcony, and Jasper caught her, holding her tight. “Felicity! I know you’ve been wronged. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.” “Men, you can start now.” As a dozen bodyguards entered the room, I had no time to struggle before a needle pierced my arm. Within seconds, I was paralyzed. My clothes were ripped away and replaced with something cheap and vulgar. I was taken to the busiest street in the city. A table was set before me, covered in an array of sharp instruments. And a sign. 【Daughter of a Mistress. Do what you will.】 Jasper’s voice was cold. “Rachel, you forced my hand. Enjoy this little public test of humanity.” I stared at him in disbelief, tears blurring my vision. This was his solution? To rip open my deepest wounds for the entire world to see? He was the one who had taught me how to stand on my own two feet again. Now, for the woman who bullied me, he was the one breaking my legs, forcing me to kneel in shame. Camera flashes seared my exposed skin. The disgusted glares of passersby were like needles. “What good can come from a mistress’s kid? She looks like a slut.” “Dressed like that, who is she trying to seduce? Like mother, like daughter. She was born to be a homewrecker.” “I guess being shameless is genetic.” A rotten egg splattered against my face. Someone cut my scalp with scissors, then my arms, my legs. Fists and palms rained down in a chaotic blur. Then, someone picked up a brick and brought it crashing down on my head. Blood streamed down my face, but I didn’t even have the strength to whimper. As the brick was raised again, I closed my eyes in despair. The next second, someone threw themselves in front of me, taking the full force of the blow. My last conscious image was of Jasper, his head bleeding, holding me protectively in his arms, his face a mask of panic. As I faded out, I heard the wail of an ambulance siren. Jasper’s furious voice drifted in and out. “Find the person who did that!” “What if that blow made her remember everything? What would happen to Felicity’s reputation? What would Noah think of her?” My eyelashes fluttered. A silent tear slid into my hair. He was terrified for Felicity, but he never once wondered what would happen to me. Or what Noah would think of me. How utterly laughable. … I woke up in the hospital. Jasper was warming the IV tube with his hands, his voice hoarse. “Rachel, you’re awake. You should eat something.” He presented containers of all my favorite foods. There was a time I would have happily eaten even his worst culinary disasters. Later, when I was sick and asked for the porridge he used to make, he told me to just order takeout. But Felicity’s lunch boxes were always filled with his specialties. Now, looking at this food I had longed for, I felt nothing. I took a shallow breath, but a sharp pain shot through my abdomen, the one place I thought had been least injured. My heart sank. “Felicity… she accidentally pushed your gurney into the wrong operating room. They removed your ovaries before they realized you were pregnant. They had to take the baby out too.” I stared at him, and then I laughed, a raw, broken sound that tasted of blood. “You believe she did it by accident, but you won’t believe a single word I say? Jasper, that was your child too!” His face darkened. “Would this accident have happened if Felicity wasn’t so desperate to save you? Besides, it would have just been another stillbirth anyway. This time, at least it can be donated to medical research.” “It’s far more valuable than the five pieces of medical waste you produced before.” I could barely believe my ears. The five children I had fought to bring into this world… to him, they were just garbage? He seemed to realize his mistake, his voice softening. “I had a thank-you banner made for you. You can give it to Felicity later. I know losing your ovaries means you’ll age faster, but I won’t mind—” I looked at the banner, which read, A Debt of Gratitude, My Second Mother. Trembling, I threw it in his face. “Get out! I never want to see you again!” As the door slammed behind him, I collapsed onto the bed, my sobs tearing through me. He would never know. This child… this one might have had a chance to call him Dad. My flight was in three hours. I forced my trembling body out of bed and discharged myself. As I was heading to the airport, I heard a child’s piercing scream from the hospital rooftop. “Don’t kill me!” I pushed through the crowd to see Noah, a man holding a knife to his throat. The man’s eyes were bloodshot as he roared, “That bitch Felicity calls herself a midwife? My baby died because she gave my wife too much anesthesia, and then she used my dead child to practice induction techniques! Today, her son is going to pay the price!” My heart seized. So that’s what happened. My five babies… maybe they could have been saved. Maybe they were just practice for Felicity. Noah saw me, his small hands reaching out desperately. “Mommy!” A sharp pain shot through me. Despite everything, he was still my son. “Let him go! He’s my child! You have the wrong person.” The man sneered. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re that bitch’s best friend. Trying to protect your master, are you? Get on your knees and slap yourself two hundred times!” Without hesitation, I dropped to my knees and began to slap my own face. The sharp cracks echoed across the rooftop. My cheeks swelled, burning with pain. I wiped the blood from my lips, my mouth numb. “Are you satisfied now?” The man’s smile was cold and cruel. “It was entertaining. But who said I was going to be merciful?” He raised the knife and lunged at Noah. “No!” I threw myself over the boy, shielding him with my body. The blade plunged into me, and a wave of hot blood gushed out. My face was ashen, but I forced myself to soothe him. “Mommy’s here. Noah will be okay…” Noah’s cries grew louder, his small hands smearing tears across his face. And then I saw it. The two tear-shaped moles he’d smudged away. I froze. A roaring filled my ears. I couldn’t speak. So… even the last thing I was holding onto… that was a lie too? Sirens wailed as police officers swarmed the rooftop and subdued the attacker. Jasper and Felicity arrived at the same time. “Rachel!” Jasper’s voice trembled when he saw me covered in blood. He rushed toward me, about to lift me up. But Felicity got there first, crying and screaming. She snatched Noah from my arms and delivered a resounding slap across my swollen face. My head snapped to the side. I didn’t even have the strength to react. “Rachel, you remember everything, don’t you? That’s why you staged all this, to try and steal my Noah!” Without a moment’s hesitation, Jasper’s face hardened. “Felicity, are you saying…” She yanked the knife from my wound. Blood spurted out, and the agony made my vision go black. When the knife hit the ground, the blade retracted into the handle. “See? It’s a prop knife! Rachel, will you stop with these pathetic games already?!” “Noah is not your son! You killed your own child!” It felt like a hot coal was searing my heart. “How is that possible…?” Noah sobbed as he pushed me away. “So you’re the mistress mom who faked a marriage with that bastard’s dad!” “All the kids in my class hate him! Whenever we were bored, we’d go beat him up. It’s not like he had a mom to stand up for him.” “The other day, someone pushed him down the stairs. His head was bleeding, and he kept whispering, ‘Mommy, why are you a mistress?’ and then he stopped breathing.” Felicity leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “He could have survived, actually. But I happened to need a bone marrow transplant, and Jasper didn’t hesitate. He sent your son to the operating table and had them drain him dry.” “The two of you, with your pathetic, worthless lives… what could I do but gratefully accept your gifts?” The last thread of my sanity snapped. He was the only thing I had left in this world… My precious boy, who should have been cherished, had been forced to live a life just like mine, worse than a weed. How much fear and despair must have filled his short life? The overwhelming grief threatened to split me in two. My vision blurred, turning red. Jasper’s hand clamped around my wrist, hauling me to my feet. “Rachel, you did something wrong, and you got caught. Stop acting crazy.” “Now that you remember, you’ll just have another surgery! We’ll get all those poisonous thoughts out of your head for good!” With the last of my strength, I ripped my arm free and slapped him across the face. “Jasper, after all this, you still want to play games with my life?” He frowned, his face cold. “I’m doing this for your own good!” “After the surgery, you won’t be so vicious anymore. You won’t be in pain! I’ll treat you just like I used to—” At that, I started to laugh, tears of blood rolling down my cheeks. “Like you used to? And give me more of your fake, nauseating love?” “I don’t want it anymore. Jasper, if you’re so determined to operate on me, then this life you twisted beyond recognition… I don’t want it anymore either.” Before the last word left my lips, ignoring Jasper’s horrified screams behind me, I ran to the edge of the rooftop and threw myself over.

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My younger brother got a new girlfriend. The very next day, she deleted every single female contact on his phone. His girlfriend: “If you need something from him, tell me and I’ll pass it on.” Me: “Oh, then pass this on: our family doesn’t accept you!” 1 On Saturday, I was stuck at the office working overtime like a good corporate drone when I suddenly received a relentless bombardment of texts from my mom: Mom: Stella, your brother deleted me from his contacts. Mom: Can you get ahold of him? I laughed out loud. Wow, is this kid’s delayed rebellious phase finally kicking in? I switched over to my chat with Leo: Stella (18-Year-Old Beauty): Did you seriously delete Mom’s contact? The message spun for a long time. Just as I was about to curse my cousin Owen for being a cheapskate and refusing to upgrade our company’s terrible Wi-Fi, the message finally processed. A bright red exclamation mark popped up, mocking me: Message Not Delivered. You have been blocked. I stared at the screen for a solid minute, a vein throbbing in my temple. I switched back to my chat with Mom: Stella (18-Year-Old Beauty): Mrs. Thorne, please forgive your daughter’s incompetence. Stella (18-Year-Old Beauty): Your precious son blocked me too!!! Mom’s status showed: Typing… For ten whole minutes, nothing came through. Finally, a barrage of texts arrived: Mom: Forget about that ungrateful brat!!! Mom: Let’s see who he begs for his allowance this month! Mom: Blocking his own mother and sister? He’s out of his damn mind! Watching those three messages pop up like machine-gun fire, I could only sigh in admiration. Mrs. Thorne, beautifully done. Though I wholeheartedly agreed with Mom’s proposal to leave Leo out in the cold, I still switched over to the chat with my childhood best friend, Ethan Brooks. Stella (18-Year-Old Beauty): My brother blocked me and my mom. Can you reach him? Stella (18-Year-Old Beauty): If you can, ask him if he’s still breathing. It didn’t take long for a reply. It was a screenshot of a text conversation: Ethan: Leo, did you block your mom and sister? Leo: I’m Leo’s girlfriend. I deleted them. Is there a problem? Ethan: His mom and sister are worried about him. Can you have him text them back? Leo: If they need something from him, tell me and I’ll pass it on. Just skimming that screenshot made my blood boil. Stella (18-Year-Old Beauty): Ethan, text that girl back right now. Stella (18-Year-Old Beauty): Say: ‘Oh.’ Stella (18-Year-Old Beauty): ‘Then pass this on: our family doesn’t accept you!’ Stella (18-Year-Old Beauty): And tell Leo he can go collect cans to pay for his own tuition and living expenses because his mom cut him off! 2 Even though I was fuming over Leo’s new girlfriend, as his older sister, I still had an obligation to figure out what the hell this kid was doing. I grabbed my purse and marched out of the office, suddenly struck by a terrifying thought: Did Leo join a cult or a pyramid scheme?! Before my panic could fully set in, I spotted Ethan. Dressed in a black trench coat over a crisp dress shirt and slacks, he was leaning against his car. Seeing me walk out, he looked up from his phone. “Did you just get back from Southern University?” I asked. Ethan nodded. “I figured you’d be heading to Hudson University to track Leo down. I had to swing by to pick up some documents from my old professor anyway.” “Good guess,” I marveled. “Get in.” Ethan opened the passenger door, holding it steady for me. I pulled my seatbelt across my chest. “Didn’t you finish covering those substitute lectures at Hudson? Why do you still have documents left with your professor?” Ethan cleared his throat softly. “I forgot them. My professor asked me to come grab them.” “What’s the situation with Leo?” “Oh, that idiot is either in a cult or severely brain-damaged by love.” Thinking of that bright red exclamation mark, I rolled my eyes. “He really pissed my mom off this time.” The car drove through the gates of Hudson University. As we passed a small grove of trees, I caught a glimpse of my love-struck, brain-damaged brother. “Ethan, I see him. Can you park around here?” “Yeah, there’s a spot up ahead,” Ethan replied, turning the steering wheel. The moment my feet hit the pavement, I dragged Ethan toward Leo. Halfway there, the girl leaning affectionately against Leo’s chest started to look incredibly familiar. “Ethan.” I nudged him with my elbow. “Isn’t that the girl who aggressively chased you for three months while you were lecturing here?” Ethan glanced over. “Yeah. It’s her.” Wow! Good for her! She got rejected by Ethan and decided to settle for my brother instead?! I marched over in three strides and grabbed Leo by the ear. “Excuse me, little girl, borrowing your boyfriend for a second.” “Stella?!” Standing over six feet tall, Leo was forced to bend sideways as I yanked his ear. “What are you doing here?” “What am I doing here?!” I let out a dry, angry laugh. “Why don’t you ask your precious girlfriend what she did?!” I dragged him by the ear a few yards away. The moment Leo spotted Ethan, he broke free from my grip and hid behind him like a lifeline. “When did you get a girlfriend?” I demanded. Leo peeked his head out from behind Ethan’s shoulder. “Yesterday.” “You started dating yesterday, and today she deleted your own mother and sister from your phone?!” I reached out, trying to smack him. “Did you know about this?!” “Y-Yeah,” Leo stammered, looking slightly guilty. “Vanessa… she has trust issues! She lacks a sense of security!” “Lacks a sense of security? So she finds security by deleting every female contact in your phone?!” I was furious. “This precious girlfriend of yours chased Ethan for three months, got rejected, and immediately hooked up with you. What? Do you think you’re hotter than Ethan?” “With that empty head of yours, if you fed your brain to a zombie, it would spit it out and yell, ‘Gross! Simp brain!’” Leo glanced at Ethan, then puffed out his chest defensively. “Vanessa and I were love at first sight! It’s destiny! You wouldn’t understand because you’ve been forever alone since birth!” “You little—!” My head was buzzing with rage. I rolled up my sleeves, fully prepared to beat him to a pulp. Daring to call his sister ‘forever alone’? I clearly needed to remind him of his place in the food chain. “Stella, calm down,” Ethan intervened, gently holding me back. “Let Leo call your mom to tell her he’s safe first.” Taking a deep breath, I pointed at Leo. “Call Mrs. Thorne right now and tell her you’re breathing.” With that, I grabbed Ethan’s arm and dragged him away from that infuriating scene. Ugh. Naive little boys in love are a lethal hazard. 3 Back at the office. I sat at my desk, stressing out so much my hair was practically falling out. Because of Vanessa’s little stunt, Mrs. Thorne had gone nuclear. Not only did she cut off Leo’s allowance, but she decisively kicked him out of the house. Mrs. Thorne’s exact words: That ungrateful brat can come back when he’s single! Even so, seeing how utterly brainwashed Leo was, if I didn’t intervene, I was genuinely going to become an only child. I opened my text thread with Ethan: Stella: My mom invited you over for dinner tonight. Bring Leo with you. Ethan: Sounds good. I’ll pick you up after work. Stella: Perfect. Just as I hit send, I saw General Manager Price walk into my department with someone trailing behind him. I took a closer look. Well, well, well. If it isn’t the innocent little green tea girlfriend herself! Mr. Price set Vanessa up at an empty desk and pulled me aside. “Stella, my daughter wants to intern here to gain some experience. Vanessa says she really looks up to you. I’d appreciate it if you could show her the ropes.” “An internship? Isn’t she only a sophomore?” Mr. Price scratched his head. “She asked for it herself. I figured some real-world experience wouldn’t hurt.” I looked at Mr. Price, then at Vanessa. “Alright. But let me be clear, Mr. Price—I treat everyone equally. I’m not going to give her special treatment just because she’s your daughter.” Mr. Price nodded happily. “Of course, of course.” After seeing him out, I sat back at my desk. Vanessa walked over, holding a cup of coffee. She placed the coffee on my desk, her large doe eyes blinking sweetly. “Sister.” “Stop right there. I’m not your sister. While you’re at this company, I highly recommend you call me Director Thorne.” Vanessa looked pitifully wronged. “But Leo calls you that, so I thought…” I gave her a half-smile. “Leo who? That ungrateful brat was officially disowned by our family. Don’t try to play the family card with me.” “But I feel so close to you, Director Thorne. You feel like my own older sister. I thought you felt the same way.” Close? You didn’t feel ‘close’ when you used my brother’s phone to block me. I continued, “Since you’re here to learn, you’ll start like every other intern. Go organize the company’s entire design pitch portfolio for the past year. I want it by Friday.” Vanessa bit her lip. “Understood, Director Thorne.” “Wait,” I called out as she turned. “Thank you for the gesture, but I don’t drink coffee. Please take it with you.” Vanessa froze. Her small face instantly flushed crimson. Grabbing the coffee, she practically fled. I ignored the little manipulator and focused on my work. Around 4:30 PM, the office suddenly erupted into a commotion. Someone who only showed his face once every eight hundred years had actually appeared—our company’s CEO, my older cousin Owen. Despite his usual goofy demeanor, he was surprisingly dressed in a sharp suit. He clapped his hands as he walked into the department. “Design team! I just landed a massive account! We’re partnering with Southern University’s research lab to design the branding for their new tech product. Their representative is arriving shortly. Stella, make sure you greet them properly.” Before leaving, Cousin Owen threw me a ridiculously exaggerated, sleazy wink. I took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to punch him. “Understood.” After Owen left, Vanessa suddenly appeared behind me. She asked in a sickly-sweet voice, “Director Thorne, can I come with you?” Between the mention of Southern University and Cousin Owen’s sleazy wink, I knew exactly who the representative was. I eyed Vanessa critically. Did she hear about this partnership from her dad, and specifically begged to intern here just to stalk Ethan?! If that was the case, this girl had some serious nerve! Eating from my brother’s bowl while staring at the steak on Ethan’s plate! “Vanessa, did you finish summarizing the pitch portfolio?” She nervously twisted the hem of her shirt. “N-No.” I patted her shoulder. “Then stay here and keep working on it. Maya, come with me.” Ignoring Vanessa’s reaction, I called over another intern who had been with us for a while and walked out. 4 Unsurprisingly, the representative was Ethan. “You told me a while ago you were looking for a design partner for the lab’s new product. I didn’t expect you to actually bring it to us,” I said. Ethan gently patted my head. “What, is our great Design Director unhappy about it?” I feigned surrender. “Stop talking nonsense. I’m deeply honored.” By the time we finished discussing the partnership, it was almost time to clock out. Ethan checked his watch. “Are you working overtime tonight, Stella?” “Of course not.” I handed my final notes to Maya. “Cousin Owen is a massive cheapskate. He refuses to pay overtime, so why would I stay late?” Ethan’s eyes crinkled with amusement. He offered me his arm. “Do I have the honor of escorting Miss Stella out?” I hooked my purse over his outstretched arm. “Permission granted!” At my house. I unlocked the front door, fully prepared to yell: Mrs. Thorne, your precious daughter is home! But the words died in my throat. I grabbed Ethan’s arm. “Don’t you feel like the vibe in here is a little… off?” “Yeah. It’s much quieter than usual.” “Exactly! Usually, Mom would be yelling at me to wash my hands by now. Why is it dead silent?” Oh no! Did a burglar break in and kidnap Mrs. Thorne?! I pulled out my phone, ready to dial 911, when Mom walked out of her bedroom looking absolutely exasperated. I immediately dropped my phone and ran over to hug her. “Who had the audacity to upset our beautiful Mrs. Thorne?” “Who else? Your brother!” “What did Leo do?” “What did he do? He brought his girlfriend over! They’re currently giving her a grand tour of his bedroom!” Mom marched angrily toward the kitchen. “Infuriating! Absolutely infuriating!” Leo brought the green tea girlfriend here? Was he trying to give Mom a stroke?! Ethan leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I take it Leo hasn’t unblocked you and your mom yet?” “He wishes he could,” I scoffed. “Mrs. Thorne blacklisted his number days ago.” When dinner was ready, Leo emerged with his precious girlfriend. Vanessa looked at me timidly. “Hello, Director Thorne.” Me: What is with that look? If anyone else saw this, they’d think I was the Wicked Witch of the West about to eat her! Then, Vanessa turned her shimmering gaze toward Ethan. “Hello, Ethan.” Before Ethan could say a word, Leo chimed in. “Vanessa, you don’t need to be so formal calling her Director Thorne. Just call her ‘Sister’ like I do.” I looked horrified. “Please don’t. I absolutely cannot bear the weight of her calling me that.” “Stella, you—” “It’s not Director Thorne’s fault. I’m the one who wanted to call her that,” Vanessa interrupted gently. Leo: “But Vanessa…” Vanessa knitted her thin brows together, her doe eyes brimming with grievance. “Leo, it’s okay. Director Thorne just doesn’t like me.” As she spoke, tears welled up in her eyes, hanging precariously on her lashes. Seeing this, Leo immediately pulled her into a protective embrace, looking heartbroken. What a master-class performance. I let out a harsh scoff, too exhausted to watch her put on a soap opera. I kicked Leo hard in the shin. “Move! You’re in my way!” If I knew Leo was bringing this girl, I wouldn’t have arranged this dinner. I would’ve let him starve on the streets! “Ethan, let’s go help Mom.” I grabbed Ethan and dragged him away from the toxic fumes.

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1 After my husband Asher and our son vanished, presumed dead, I refused to believe it. No bodies, no goodbyes. So I tore a hole in time, jumping five years into the future to find them. And I did. They were alive, but with no memory of me. I wept with joy, but as I reached for them, Asher’s voice stopped me cold. “The truth is, we never had amnesia. We just started a new family.” My eyes, bloodshot with disbelief, darted to my son, Noah. He just shrugged, adding casually, “It’s true. Our new mom is your best friend, Auntie Isla. We’ve been living here the whole time.” A roar filled my ears. I looked down at the three pale scars that circled my wrist, a souvenir from my suicide attempt, and felt my soul detach from my body. As if reading my mind, Asher’s tone turned scolding. “Why did you have to go and try to kill yourself? If you hadn’t done that, you wouldn’t have lost the baby.” “Be a good girl and go back,” he said. “When we’ve had enough of this life, we’ll come home.” Be a good girl? A broken laugh escaped my lips. There was no need to rush. If this time-jump mission failed, my memories would be wiped clean. In three days, at most, I would be sent back to my own time. And I would remember nothing of them. … Seeing me frozen there, my eyes burning red, Noah frowned. “Mom, what are you waiting for? Auntie Isla will be home soon. We don’t want to make her sad.” My heart felt like it had been run over by a train. After five years, his first thought was of someone else’s feelings. A fresh wave of red flooded my vision, but I clung to one last sliver of hope. “Noah, do you have any idea what my life has been like?” After they “died,” I became a pariah. People pointed and called me a jinx, a curse who’d destroyed her own husband and son. I spent a month in a daze, truly believing I was the one who had killed them. Finally, one night, I sliced my wrists open. If my mother hadn’t had a bad feeling and come to check on me, I’d be nothing but a pile of ash now. But Noah just turned his head away, indifferent. “Why would I want to know? You’re old and boring. I’m not interested.” A sharp pain lanced through my chest, like a blade carving me up, piece by piece. Asher saw the shock on my face and let out a short, harsh laugh. “Why are you arguing with a child?” “Besides, kids know who’s genuinely good to them. Isla never forces Noah to do anything he doesn’t want to. Not like you and your mother, with your suffocating, two-faced kindness.” The roaring in my head was deafening. The last thread of my control snapped. I lunged forward, grabbing his collar, my voice breaking. “Are you even human?! Do you know my mother died in a car accident looking for you? When they found her, she was still clutching the missing persons flyer with your faces on it!” I screamed, I accused, I expected some flicker of guilt. But the room was silent for two long seconds before he sighed with mild regret. “Of course, I knew. But she wasn’t watching the road. Who can you blame for that?” “You can’t pin a tragedy like that on me and my son.” He offered a troubled smile, but his eyes held no remorse, only a faint, weary annoyance. “I was going to visit you, but Isla happened to get sick right then. I couldn’t leave her.” “You couldn’t leave her?” I was laughing and crying at the same time, a shattered wreck of a person. Asher watched me for a few moments, a flicker of something like pity in his eyes. “Sera, listen to me. Now that you know the truth, when you go back, stop fighting with my mom. She didn’t have a choice.” “Take good care of her for me. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, I promise.” I froze, the taste of blood filling my mouth as I bit down on my lip. “Your mother… she knew about your plan the whole time?” Asher admitted it without hesitation, even offering a lazy smile. “If she didn’t, how else would you have been so willing to serve her?” I opened my mouth, but my vocal cords felt shredded. In the year after they “died,” I lived in hell. Because I was the one who had planned the cruise ship vacation, his mother, Meredith, tortured me relentlessly. She would stick me with needles every day, my arms, my legs—there wasn’t an inch of unblemished skin. My clothes were often soaked with blood. My own mother would weep seeing it and started fighting with her. But that only made Meredith more vicious. She grabbed a hammer and brought it down on my mother’s head. “You and your daughter are a curse! First my son, then my grandson! Why don’t you just die!” My mother was bleeding profusely, but even as they took her to the hospital, she stood in front of me, holding back tears. “From now on, if she wants to hit someone, she hits me. Let her take it all out on me.” From then on, I became Meredith’s slave. Because in my heart, I believed I was atoning for my sins. But now I knew. It was all a lie. The suffering my mother and I endured was nothing but a sick joke. I finally broke, my hands flying, slapping his face again and again like a hailstorm. “How could you do this to me?” Asher didn’t fight back. He just closed his eyes and took it. “Sera!” A sharp cry cut through the air. Isla stood in the doorway, her face pale as she stared at us. I froze, my gaze falling to her swollen, pregnant belly. Instantly, Asher and Noah moved to shield her. “This has nothing to do with Isla. If you have a problem, you take it up with me.” “If you dare hurt Auntie Isla, you’re not my mother anymore!” Father and son roared at me in unison. Tears streamed down Isla’s face as she shook her head. “No, it’s my fault. Sera, I’m the one who stole your family. Whatever you want to do to me, I’ll accept it.” The three of them, protecting each other. A perfect family unit. And me? The legal wife, the biological mother? I was nothing. A giant hand seemed to squeeze my heart, the pain so intense I doubled over. My voice trembled, my eyes filled with hatred. “Asher, this is bigamy. I’m calling the police!” He just watched as I fumbled with my phone, not a trace of panic on his face. Only when my thumb hovered over the final digit did he speak, his voice casual. “You probably don’t know what they do to time travelers they catch these days.” “What?” My hand froze mid-air, my heart hammering against my ribs. “First, they drug you. Strap you to an operating table for observation.” “Then comes the electroshock, to see how your brain chemistry reacts.” “Finally, they scoop out your brain and preserve it as a specimen for study.” Asher looked at me with something akin to pity. “Trust me, Sera,” he whispered. “You don’t want to go through that.” He smiled, a cruel, cutting thing, and suddenly I was back on our honeymoon. We were in a foreign country when we were mugged. We let them take all our money. But as they were leaving, one of them reached for me with a leering grin. In a flash, Asher was on them, a whirlwind of fists and fury against three men. Blood sprayed the air, and he screamed at me to run. By the time the police arrived, his brow was split open, his leg was broken, and he had a bullet in his side. He was barely breathing, but he smiled without a single regret. “Sera, I would rather die than let anyone lay a finger on you.” Looking at the man in front of me now, I slapped him again, but this time, pathetic tears streamed down my face. Asher understood my pain. He clenched his jaw, his voice almost a plea. “Sera, a part of me will always love you. But Isla… she’s been through so much. Can’t you just find it in your heart to pity her? Please?” I lifted my tear-streaked face, my voice choked with agony. “Why did it have to be her?” “Because she’s not just your best friend. She’s your half-sister!” My mouth fell open. I was frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Isla’s eyes welled with red, and she dropped to her knees before me. “Sera, I always wanted to tell you, but I was so scared! My mom and your dad separated a long time ago, and I never, ever wanted to take his love from you.” “But if you’re angry, please, take it all out on me.” Isla knelt there, her pregnant belly prominent, her shoulders trembling. Asher’s eyes turned crimson with rage, and he roared at me. “Are you even human?! She’s on her knees in front of you! What more do you want?” “Honey, please don’t fight with Sera because of me, I’m begging you!” Isla sobbed, clutching his leg. The blood in my veins turned to ice. A wave of nausea washed over me, and I couldn’t stop myself from vomiting. Everything was a lie. My best friend, my husband… even the father I had revered for thirty years. All of it, fake. Noah watched the scene with dark, cold eyes. He suddenly charged at me, shoving me hard. “Go away! We don’t want you here! Why did you have to make Auntie Isla sad?” I stumbled and fell, landing in the mess I’d just made. Isla rushed to Noah, hugging him, her voice thick with tears. “You can’t treat her like that. She’s your real mother. The one who gave birth to you.” “No! I don’t want her! You’re my mom! I only want you!” Noah didn’t even glance at me, his disgust for me on full display. I wiped the tears from my face, slowly pulling myself to my feet and walking towards the door. I never wanted to see them again. Not for a single second. Maybe it was a side effect of the time jump, or maybe my mind had just reached its breaking point. My vision went black, and I collapsed. The last thing I saw before the world disappeared was Asher’s worried face rushing towards me. When I woke up, only Isla was in the room. She smiled at me gently, but her voice was glacial. “Don’t bother looking. They went out.” With them gone, Isla dropped the act completely. Her eyes raked over me with contempt. “My mother stole your father, and I stole Asher. You and your mother are both pathetic losers, always have been.” “Shut up! You don’t get to talk about my mother!” Isla was in a wonderful mood, a cheerful smile playing on her lips. “So much fire. Just like your useless mother.” She paused, then continued in a lazy drawl. “You probably didn’t know, but your mother came to see mine once. She barely said two words before she burst into tears, begging my mom not to steal her man. It was so pathetic. My mom and I still laugh until our stomachs hurt whenever we think about it.” My fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. Isla didn’t notice. She wiped a tear of mirth from her eye. “So you can imagine how sorry I felt for you when I realized you thought I was your best friend! Ahh—” Her words were cut off as I tackled her to the ground, my face a mask of triumphant rage. “You deserve this! I was so happy when I heard your mother was dead!” Something inside me snapped. I saw red. I grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the floor. Once, twice. Isla’s screams were sharp and piercing. The door burst open with a loud bang. Asher and Noah hadn’t left after all. Seeing what I was doing, Asher’s eyes widened in fury. “You bitch!” A vicious slap sent me flying, my body crashing hard against a cabinet. Isla was crying pitifully, clutching her bruised forehead. “Don’t hit her,” she trembled. “It’s okay. Let her get her anger out.” Noah burst into tears. “Auntie Isla, you’re too kind! Your head is bleeding, and you’re still defending that awful woman!” “It doesn’t hurt,” Isla said softly, like a true mother. “It’s my fault. I made your mom angry.” But then, her expression changed. She clutched her stomach. “Ah, the pain! Asher, our baby… I think…” Asher’s face went white. He swept Isla into his arms and shot me a look of pure loathing. “Be gone before we get back. If anything happens to Isla’s baby, you’ll pay with your life.” The door slammed shut, and they were gone. They never noticed the small knife embedded in my abdomen, or the growing pool of blood beneath me. Isla had stabbed me during our struggle. My face was pale as I glanced at the time. Six hours left. Then I would disappear. I just had to hold on. My legs were weak as I fumbled for some gauze, tying it tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding. But as I used the wall to pull myself up, I fainted again. I don’t know how much time passed before Asher’s deep voice woke me. “What are you doing?! Why is there so much blood? Are you trying to kill yourself for attention?” “No… my stomach… I was…” Before I could finish, Asher hauled me to my feet, dragging me out of the room like a dog. “Isla’s in trouble. She needs a blood transfusion, and she said you have the same blood type. Let’s go.” My legs could barely hold me, and a cold sweat drenched my forehead from the pain, but I pushed against him with all my might. “I’m not going!” Asher stopped, his eyes filled with disgust. “It’s a matter of life and death. You don’t have a choice!” Ignoring my screams, he took out a rope and tied my hands tightly. The pressure made my wound bleed afresh. Noah’s face paled. He saw the begging in my eyes, hesitated for a second, then quickly looked away. In that instant, my heart turned to ash. As they pushed me towards the operating room, Asher grabbed my hand. “Sera, help me this one time, and I’ll do anything you ask after this. Be good. I’ll be waiting for you when you get out.” A tear slid from the corner of my eye. I stopped struggling. Inside the operating room, Isla stood waiting, a smug smile on her face. She didn’t look like she’d been injured at all. A chill shot up my spine. She spoke slowly, her hands running over my body with satisfaction. “I didn’t bring you here for a transfusion. I brought you here to give my mother a new kidney.” “If you want to blame someone, blame your own bad luck. And your stupidity.” Just then, a doctor exclaimed, “Miss, one of her kidneys is failing.” Isla frowned for a moment, then shrugged it off with a smile. “Then take the other one.” “But… she’ll die.” “So what? She brought this on herself.” Isla commanded coldly, “Get it done. Now.” My body was tense, my bound hands frantically working a tiny nail clipper against the ropes. Faster, faster. The surgeon raised a scalpel, poising it over my stomach. Just as he was about to make the cut, my ropes fell away. I lunged for the door. Isla’s face contorted in fury. “Stop her!” she shrieked. “Kill her if you have to, but don’t let her get out!” In that life-or-death moment, a primal survival instinct kicked in. I kicked the doctor over and threw open the operating room doors. The next second, a searing pain erupted in my back. I fell to my knees, and in the last moment before my eyes closed, I saw Asher and Noah, their faces masks of horror, screaming my name.

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My college roommate from four years ago, Anna, is getting married and asked us to be her bridesmaids. We had to pay for our own travel, accommodation, and bridesmaid dresses. And there was no traditional red envelope given to thank us for our help. The day before the wedding, we arrived at her rural hometown at 6 AM to help set up the bridal suite. The next evening, right after the wedding wrapped up, we had to find our own way out of the countryside. Thinking about our supposed “sisterhood,” the three of us still showed up like absolute suckers, even bringing generous cash gifts. We endured the humiliation of the vulgar, rural wedding hazing customs. And what did we get in return? She publicly referred to us as “my three maids.” The groom was my ex-boyfriend from college. During the reception, we had to sit through the retelling of their “eight-year-long romantic journey.” Throughout the story, Anna used all of our most embarrassing photos and awkward college moments to make herself look elegant and superior by comparison. Finally, we couldn’t take it anymore and smashed the giant LED screen. That night, I woke up in my college dorm room. Anna was standing there, bragging about an expensive bottle of perfume a suitor had given her. There were four people in this dorm. Three of us had just been reborn. 01 “I told him I didn’t need any perfume, but he insisted! Giving me this on Christmas Eve… do you guys think he’s into me?” Anna held up the expensive bottle of perfume, posing for a selfie, her humblebrag anything but subtle. She didn’t notice that the way I was looking at her had completely changed. When nobody responded, she just kept talking to herself: “This senior said his girlfriend isn’t as pretty as me, and doesn’t have my figure. Is he hinting at something? He even asked me out tonight, but I don’t think of him that way at all.” At that exact moment, my phone buzzed. My boyfriend sent me a selfie from his dorm room, followed by a $5.20 Venmo transfer. The message read: So sorry, baby. I’m stuck finishing a paper tonight and can’t be with you for Christmas Eve. Once I save up some money from my part-time job, I’ll buy you a real present! In the corner of his selfie, I spotted the torn wrapping paper from the exact same expensive perfume Anna was holding. The cheap audacity made me want to throw up. No wonder they had an “eight-year-long romantic journey” at their wedding. They were hooking up right now! Anna was wearing my Gucci coat and carrying my Chanel bag. She spritzed herself with my Jo Malone perfume and said, “Chloe, is your boyfriend not taking you out? I’m so jealous of you. I had plans booked for Christmas Eve a month ago. It’s like these guys have never seen a pretty, rich girl before…” “I’m going to the library tonight. Take off my coat and leave my bag here. I need to use them.” Anna froze. “Oh, and I forgot to mention,” I continued casually, “my family has a habit of putting rubbing alcohol into expired cosmetics so nobody accidentally uses them. Which foundation and perfume did you just put on? Does your face burn?” Anna’s face dropped. She frantically grabbed makeup wipes, furiously scrubbing her face, and yelled, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?! Are you trying to ruin my skin on purpose?!” I hopped down from my loft bed and stared at her coldly. “Did you ask me before you stole my stuff? Just because I didn’t say anything before doesn’t mean I didn’t know.” “Why… why are you being so mean all of a sudden? It’s just a little bit of makeup.” Anna rolled her eyes, put on a face mask, and headed for the door. “Well, you aren’t wearing this dress, right? I’m running late, I have to go to my date.” The dress she was wearing was also mine—a designer summer slip dress. Anna grabbed a winter coat but purposefully draped it over her arm instead of wearing it. She strutted through the freezing December campus, her bare shoulders exposed, her curves on full display. She tossed her long, curled hair, ensuring every guy she walked past stared. Her intentions couldn’t have been more obvious. I smiled and used my phone app to remotely lock my Porsche. Sure enough, not even half an hour later, Anna kicked the dorm door open. She was completely wrapped in her winter coat, shivering violently, her lips practically purple. “What a broke loser! He actually expected me to take the bus! Taking the bus downtown for dinner?! Is he insane?!” At the exact same time, my boyfriend aggressively texted me five times in a row, asking why the Porsche wouldn’t start. Before I could even reply, he FaceTimed me. The loud ringtone startled Anna. She looked over at me and was about to speak when I answered the call right in front of her. “Chloe, what the hell is your problem? Why did you lock the Porsche?” 02 Hearing my boyfriend’s voice, Anna quickly looked away. But she didn’t look guilty or panicked at all. Wow. So they were intentionally making a fool out of me together. “I’ve been driving that car for weeks, how could you just—” “Who do you think owns the car, buddy? I was in a bad mood, can’t I lock my own car? I thought you were in your dorm doing homework. Why do you need to drive?” My tone was even more aggressive than his, completely catching him off guard. He stammered, “…I, I was just asking! Why are you so mad?” I saw Anna furiously pulling off my dress on the bottom bunk. I laughed and said to the screen, “Let me guess, were you planning to drive my car to take some girl out and pretend you’re rich?” “Well, let me tell you a funny story. I heard about a girl going on a date tonight. She wore her roommate’s clothes, carried her roommate’s bag, and even used her roommate’s expensive three-ply toilet paper. Am I at college to study, or am I running a charity for the homeless?” My boyfriend’s face flushed bright red. He immediately hung up the call. Anna immediately snapped, “Who are you being passive-aggressive towards, Chloe? I washed the clothes before I wore them! Are you really going to hold a few pieces of toilet paper over my head? I don’t owe you anything!” “Just because your boyfriend is broke and pathetic doesn’t mean you get to take your anger out on your roommate! I didn’t do anything to you!” Just then, Mia pushed the door open, returning from the library. As soon as she set down her thermos, Anna rushed over to her, playing the victim. “Mia, please talk some sense into her! Chloe is holding a grudge over a few sheets of toilet paper. Aren’t we supposed to be sisters?” Mia remained completely expressionless and said coldly, “That’s highly debatable.” Mia was also reborn. After attending that disastrous wedding, her hatred for Anna ran deep. Because during the wedding slideshow, Anna had publicly displayed a photo of Mia walking around the dorm in nothing but her bra and underwear. “What… what is wrong with you guys today? You’re acting so weird.” Anna awkwardly sat down in her chair, trying to change the subject. “We’re usually such good friends. It’s like you guys took crazy pills today. Whatever, I’ll let it slide. Mia, pour me a cup of hot water, I almost froze to death out there.” Mia didn’t even look at her. She slammed the lid onto her thermos. “If you want hot water, get it yourself. We aren’t your maids.” Anna froze. Her eyes instantly filled with tears. She curled up on her bed, crying, “I didn’t do anything to you guys…” Girl, are you ever going to drop the princess act? You played us for fools in our past life. Do you really think we’re going to put up with you this time around? Mia glanced at me, asking if I wanted to go shower, treating Anna like she didn’t even exist. When we came back from the showers, Anna was sitting on her bed, happily video-chatting with someone. “…Yes, Sean, I miss you too.” “Of course I’m in my dorm! It’s just three of us right now, one of the girls went home for the weekend.” “What’s so interesting about a girls’ dorm? It’s just a few beds and desks. Here, I’ll show you.” Saying that, Anna leaned out of her bed, switched to her rear camera, and brazenly started filming the entire room. I immediately clutched my towel tightly around myself and warned her, “People are changing in here! Stop filming!” Anna kept her AirPods in, acting like she couldn’t hear me, giggling and introducing the room to the guy on the phone. Mia lost it. She charged forward, hung up Anna’s FaceTime call, grabbed her by the collar, and slapped her hard across the face. “Are you deaf?! People are changing, and there’s underwear hanging up! Who the hell are you filming that for?!” Anna shrieked like a stepped-on cat. “Sean is my cousin! So what if I show him?!” “You’re acting like anyone actually wants to see you! Even if a fat cow like you stripped naked, nobody would want to look!” 03 Mia instantly went silent. She was from the Midwest. She was 5’7″ and weighed maybe 130 pounds. How on earth did that make her fat??? Her eyes, blazing with hatred, locked onto Anna. The fury practically radiated from her head. “You are utterly disgusting!” Mia was strong. She shoved Anna down onto the bed, forcefully ripped her phone from her hands, grabbed Anna’s thumb, and forced it onto the scanner to unlock the phone. “What are you doing?! Why are you taking my phone?!” Mia signaled to me with her eyes. I grimly opened Anna’s photo gallery. It didn’t take long to find the problematic photos. There were pictures of my drying underwear, photos of our other roommate Sarah changing her clothes, and… The photo of Mia completely naked while changing. When we got to that photo, I handed the phone to Mia. Her eyes instantly went red. “That… that was an accident! I must have hit the camera button by mistake, I didn’t even know I took that!” Anna stammered for a moment, then turned her head, acting tough. “What does my photo gallery have to do with you?! Stop invading my privacy! Do you know that’s illegal?!” The next second, she let out a bloodcurdling scream. Mia grabbed the front of Anna’s shirt and ripped it clean in half. “Are you crazy?! You fat pig, you—” Mia shoved the torn fabric into Anna’s mouth to shut her up. She violently stripped Anna completely naked and threw her onto the bed. The dorm door was wide open, the hallway lights blazing. Anna turned pale as a ghost, huddling on her mattress, trembling and whimpering. “Listen to me very carefully. I have permanently deleted everything on your phone. If you ever dare to secretly film us again, I will strip you naked and throw you out the front doors of the lecture hall. Do you understand me?” Anna, crying and snotting all over herself, nodded frantically. Only then did Mia let her go, turning around to grab her laundry basket. Anna stayed curled up on the bed for a minute, recovering. Then she rapidly threw on fresh clothes, grabbed her phone, and bolted out the door. “Is she going to the RA?” I asked. “Maybe. But Mia has a stubborn streak. I’m guessing she’ll escalate this all the way to the top. I wonder what will happen if this blows up?” Anna suddenly stopped in the doorway. Her fists were clenched so tight her knuckles were white, and tears were still streaming from her bloodshot eyes. I walked over with a cold smile, hooked my arm through hers, and offered some fake advice. “Come on, blowing this out of proportion is bad for everyone. Besides, we’re all roommates. We’re sisters, right?” Anna shot me a tearful look, a flash of calculating shrewdness hiding in her eyes. She quickly put on her best victim act. “Of course we’re sisters. I just wanted to record our memories together so we’d have something to look back on after graduation. How could Mia treat me like this?” What a masterclass in gaslighting. The manipulation was so thick, it was no wonder we had all been fooled by her in our past life. “She’s probably just stressed from working three jobs and is in a bad mood. Since we’re all sisters, why don’t you just let it go?” Anna wiped her tears and grabbed my hands, faking sincerity. “You’re right. Sisters shouldn’t hold grudges over small things. Mia is from the country, so she has a bad temper. I’m a well-educated city girl; I should just be the bigger person and tolerate it!” That very night, Anna sent massive paragraphs of text to our fourth roommate, Sarah, who had gone home for the weekend. The gist was: I’m being bullied and isolated in the dorm. Mia physically assaulted me. If you help me speak up, we can go to the RA together and get Mia expelled. I won’t let her get away with this. Do you really think Chloe cares about you? She’s so rich, she looks down on you. Do you really think Mia cares about you? She’s jealous that you’re a local city girl, and she curses you behind your back. You’re my only true friend left. We need to stick together. Sarah read it, instantly forwarded the screenshots to me, and added three words: Is she insane? Sarah was also reborn. She was lucky enough not to have her underwear photographed, but at the wedding, Anna had shamelessly mocked her during the toasts: “So what if she grew up in the city? Both her parents are dead anyway. She’s not nearly as happy as a country girl like me.” 04 Sarah’s parents had died in a car crash shortly after our college graduation. Because of that single, vicious comment, Sarah was the first one to throw a glass at the wedding’s LED screen. Late that night, the three of us reflected deeply in our group chat about why we had let Anna manipulate us so thoroughly in our past life. We were all first-time dorm residents. We figured that living together required tolerance and compromise. Living together for four years was like gaining three new family members. If one family member had “princess syndrome,” liked to take advantage of small things, and lacked a filter… well, she had flaws, but we definitely had flaws too. We decided to just tolerate it and let it go. Even after graduation, when Anna called us crying, saying she couldn’t find any bridesmaids, we stepped up and played the fools. We never expected her to completely trample over all of our bottom lines at her wedding. It finally showed us exactly how garbage her character truly was. So, getting a second chance, none of us planned on letting her off the hook. The next day was Monday. During class, Anna stuck to Sarah like glue, sitting in the very back row, leaning in close, and trying to act buddy-buddy. Her intentions couldn’t have been more obvious. During the lecture, my boyfriend texted me, asking why he couldn’t log into my PSN account. My PSN account had every single game and expansion unlocked, so I always let him use it. After being reborn, the first thing I did was change all my passwords. I instinctively glanced over at Anna. Sure enough, she was holding her phone sideways, sitting in a pre-game lobby, waiting for someone. I pulled out my phone and logged onto my gaming account. Within a second, I received a game invite from a user named [BeNiceToAnna]. In the team chat, Anna typed: I just need one more win to rank up! Carry me, big brother! It’s so nice getting to use your skins. She was even using a matching couple’s avatar with my account. Absolutely disgusting. In my past life, they had flaunted this right in front of my face, and I had been completely blind to it! I joined the game, picked a character, and spent the entire match stealing her loot, stealing her kills, and intentionally getting her killed. She got so mad she almost threw her phone multiple times. But, I still carried her to a win. Anna got so excited she ran to the bathroom to send a voice memo. In her most sickeningly sweet, baby voice, she cooed, “Thank you so much for carrying me to the next rank, big brother—” Before she could finish, I kicked open her stall door and shoved my victory screen right in her face. “Does it feel good to flirt with someone else’s boyfriend in a public toilet?” “Is that loser really as good as me? Can he carry you with a 12-0 streak, or can he drive a Porsche downtown to buy you dinner?” “Since you love digging through my trash so much, how about I put a dumpster on your bed so you can play in it day and night? You two are dating using my money. Am I your sugar daddy? Should I pay for your wedding and his honeymoon too?!” Anna’s face turned beet red. She stood awkwardly in the stall, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and mumbled defensively, “I don’t know what you’re talking about… I’m just playing a game with your boyfriend, are you jealous or something…” Mia just happened to walk into the bathroom. She rushed over, her eyes wide, and asked me loudly, “What? I heard she’s a homewrecker sleeping with taken guys now?” Mia rolled up her sleeves, looking ready to throw down. Anna shrieked, ducked under Mia’s arm, and sprinted out of the bathroom. Sarah walked past us carrying Anna’s abandoned backpack, giving us a reassuring nod. “Anna, what’s wrong? Why are you running?!” Sarah chased after her, pretending to be a concerned friend. As they walked away, I smiled. Insulting someone’s deceased parents is the ultimate line to cross. I knew that by trying to buddy up to Sarah, Anna was signing her own death warrant. Right then, my boyfriend called me again. Seeing I wasn’t picking up, Mia bluntly asked, “Do you want me to cuss out the cheating bastard for you?” How could I let him die so easily? I had to keep him around to properly torture him. Mia stood by the sink, rubbing lotion onto her hands, advising me, “Just don’t let him fool you again. I remember you two broke up senior year last time. This time, dump him early.” She was working a part-time job washing dishes in a cafeteria kitchen. Her hands were red and cracked from the cold water; sometimes she could barely hold a pen. Her family lived in a deeply impoverished rural county. In this second life, she wanted to ride the wave of social media to make money. During those years, platforms like YouTube and TikTok were just beginning to explode, offering massive creator incentives. Mia was working three jobs just to save up enough money to buy a high-end camera to start vlogging. I asked her if she needed any financial help, but she confidently declined. She believed that with her future knowledge, she could definitely make money. This time around, she didn’t even want to apply for the university’s low-income financial aid. She wanted to leave it for students who actually needed it. We never expected that on the day the financial aid applications were announced, someone casually mentioned Mia’s name in the dorm group chat. Instantly, Anna spammed the chat with four or five selfies. The caption read: I finally met a rich girl! This is the newest DJI camera, it’s so cool! My roommate bought a new drone! Turns out she’s been living frugally just to fund her expensive hobbies! She’s so amazing! Sneaking a touch of Mia’s (my roommate) new drone! [Heart] [Heart] Even though she quickly unsent the messages, a lot of people in the dorm group still saw them. She followed it up with a sticking-out-tongue emoji, acting totally innocent, saying she sent it to the wrong chat. And then she immediately posted the exact same thing on her Instagram story. I figured Mia was probably at work and hadn’t checked her phone. Otherwise, she would have climbed through the screen and strangled her. The next second, a direct message from [Class President Sarah] popped up on my screen: Anna actually applied for the low-income financial aid grant. She’s preparing her paperwork right now. What do you think, should we ‘arrange’ a little surprise for her?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “447295”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel