Category: English

On the day of the World Pairs Piano Competition finals, my wife Billson disappeared. I frantically called her 33 times, only to turn around and see her standing on stage with her ex, Claude. Because of this, I lost my eligibility to compete. Watching the two of them take first place and stand on the winner’s podium, I silently turned and left. Just as I reached the door, Billson’s call came through. “I won first place. Don’t forget to come to the celebration party.” I didn’t answer. I silently hung up. That evening, Claude posted on Ins. In the video, Claude had his arm around Billson’s shoulder as they accepted everyone’s cheers. The smiles on their faces were blindingly painful to watch. I liked the post and commented. [Congratulations, tonight’s spotlight is all yours!] Before long, Billson called, her voice carrying a note of apology. “Don’t be mad. I’ve always remembered your mom’s wish. We still have next time.” I hung up directly, my hand trembling as I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket. It was my mother’s critical condition notice! There would be no next time!

I rushed to the hospital but didn’t make it in time to see my mother one last time. My mother’s greatest wish had been to see Billson and me win the World Pairs Piano Competition championship. Mother left with regret. I knelt before her, tears streaming silently down my face. The next day, Kristian came to the hospital and helped me prepare my mother’s body. She was my mother’s student, and we’d known each other since childhood. “Where’s Billson? Why didn’t she come?” I pressed my lips together tightly, not knowing what to say. Kristian frowned. “Didn’t you tell her?” I shook my head. I had called Billson last night. “What is it? I’m still busy here. We’ll talk when I get back.” Before I could speak, she hung up. When I called again, her phone was already off. Seeing my silence, Kristian grew anxious. “What’s going on? Tell me. She’s your wife. How can she not come to the funeral?” I smiled bitterly! Last night Claude had updated his Twitter. To celebrate their victory, the two of them had already gone on a trip out of town. “I’ll call her.” I stopped Kristian as she pulled out her phone, my expression calm. “It’s fine if she doesn’t come.” “How is that fine? She’s the teacher’s daughter-in-law!” Kristian was quite agitated, trying to break free from my grip to make the call. I stopped her again, my tone firm. “It really is fine if she doesn’t come.” In the week after my mother’s death, Billson didn’t call once. Kristian rushed around helping me handle my mother’s funeral arrangements. From notifying friends and relatives to contacting the crematorium, to keeping vigil at night. Kristian stayed by my side the entire time. Claude’s Twitter updated daily. He and Billson had gone to the beach. The two of them laughed and played in the water, huddled together watching sunrises and sunsets. I liked every single tweet. At night, Billson would message me with explanations. [We’re just hanging out together.] [Besides us, there are other people too.] [Don’t overthink it. Take good care of Mom at home and practice your piano. When I get back, we’ll win the championship together next time.] My replies were always simple. [Mm!] [Okay!] [Got it!] On the day of my mother’s funeral, Billson called. “I’m back. Aren’t you happy? Come pick me up at the airport.” “I’m at the cemetery!” In my heart, I hoped she would ask, would show concern. But she just said “Oh.” “Then I’ll wait for you at the airport. Don’t take too long.” The call was disconnected. I laughed at myself. Just moments ago, I had actually been hoping! What a joke! Kristian asked me, “What’s wrong?” “Billson’s back. She wants me to pick her up at the airport.” Kristian urged me, “Then go quickly. If you hurry, you might still make it back for the teacher’s funeral.” I smiled and shook my head. “No rush!” I proceeded with my mother’s funeral step by step, everything ending in an orderly fashion. I saw off Kristian and all the friends and relatives one by one. Billson called again, her voice tinged with impatience and complaint. “Why aren’t you here yet? How much longer are you going to make me wait?” “Almost there!” I drove to the airport. The whole way, Billson kept calling to rush me. When she saw me, she pointed at me accusingly. “I called you first thing this morning. Why did you take until now to come?” I didn’t respond. I didn’t even get out of the car. My tone was flat as I asked. “Can we go now?” “What’s the rush!” Billson glared at me, then turned and hurried back into the airport.

Before long, she came out supporting Claude. “The air conditioning on the plane was too cold. He gave me his clothes to wear and caught a cold himself.” Though Billson was explaining to me, her eyes never left Claude for a moment, filled with concern and heartache. “Oh!” I replied casually. Claude smiled at me. “Guy, thanks for the trouble!” Before I could speak, Billson said tenderly, “Don’t talk when you’re sick. It’s no trouble for him to drive here and pick us up.” I smiled at that. Right. Claude got sick for her sake, while I merely drove here to pick them up. Of course I couldn’t compare. Billson helped Claude into the back seat, gently letting Claude rest his head on her shoulder. I stared in a daze. Once, she had said my shoulder was only for her to lean on, and her shoulder was only for me. But now, she was letting Claude lean on her shoulder. Seeing I hadn’t moved, Billson said impatiently. “What are you spacing out for? Drive!” I turned my head and silently started the car. “Drive faster. Take Claude home first. He has a cold and can’t be delayed.” “Okay!” I responded. The entire way, Billson and I didn’t exchange another word. She kept thoughtfully changing positions to let Claude rest more comfortably. Through the rearview mirror, I saw her wanting to say something several times. I knew what she wanted to say. Nothing more than telling me not to mind, that Claude was sick now and needed tolerance and understanding. Actually, she didn’t need to say it. I didn’t mind at all! “Darling, my head is so dizzy. I feel terrible!” Claude hugged Billson’s waist, burying his head in her chest. Billson glanced at me in panic, then reached out to straighten Claude up. “You don’t have a fever, do you? Let me check.” She pressed her hand to Claude’s forehead and sighed in relief. “No fever. It must be because the car’s going too fast.” “Guy, slow down. Claude isn’t feeling well.” I glanced at the speedometer showing barely 40 mph and laughed quietly. “What are you laughing at? Claude is already sick, and you’re gloating.” Billson glared at me disapprovingly, her perfectly made-up eyebrows raised as if I’d committed some heinous crime. “I wouldn’t say gloating. I just find it funny that a grown man with a little cold is acting like he has a terminal illness.” “You’re the one with a terminal illness. If you can’t speak properly, shut your mouth.” I tugged at the corner of my mouth as the car entered the residential complex where Claude lived. Before I’d even parked properly, Billson opened the door and helped Claude out. I followed behind them. Billson skillfully pulled out a key from her bag. Just as she opened the door, she seemed to remember I was behind her and turned to explain. “Because I often come here to rehearse piano pieces, Claude gave me this key for convenience.” I smiled in response. “No need to explain. I understand!” Billson frowned at that, seeming to sense something was off about me today. “You today…” Before she could finish asking, Claude suddenly broke into violent coughing. Billson immediately panicked, unable to ask me further, and quickly helped Claude inside. “I’ll get you some water!” Billson helped Claude sit on the sofa, then rushed around getting water and fetching a towel. “How are you feeling? Any better? What would you like to eat?” Claude smiled weakly. “Much better. I don’t have an appetite right now. I just want some borscht.” Billson turned to look at me. “You heard him? Go make it!”

I couldn’t believe it! “You want me to make it?” “Obviously. There are only three of us here. I need to take care of him. If you don’t make it, who will?” My brow trembled as I struggled to suppress the collapse inside me, feeling my heart slowly shatter. “Hurry up!” Billson urged impatiently. I took a deep breath and rubbed my stinging eyes. “Just order delivery.” That sentence was like poking a hornet’s nest. Billson snapped. “What do you mean? I’m asking you to make one bowl of borscht, and you’re acting all wronged about it!” “Alright, alright, don’t be angry!” Claude grabbed Billson’s hand. “Since Guy doesn’t want to make it, let’s not force him.” “After all, I’m nothing to him. He has no obligation to take care of me.” Billson suddenly stepped forward and forcefully pulled me into the kitchen. “It’s just one bowl of soup. How much time could it possibly take? Now, immediately, right this instant, make it.” This was like the final straw that broke the camel’s back. My heart completely shattered. I couldn’t help thinking of my mother. I clenched my fists. Billson froze for a moment, then released my hand in disgust. “Fine, fine. You can leave. I don’t need you to make it anymore.” I felt waves of suffocation as I dragged my feet toward the exit. “Guy seems a bit off. His face is completely pale.” “I’m fine. I can’t let myself affect your relationship.” Billson laughed coldly. “Don’t mind him. He’s just faking it. I’ll order you delivery.” I dragged myself into the car, as if all my strength had been drained, gasping for breath. In that moment, I didn’t want anything except to be with my mother. I drove to the cemetery. Kristian stood before my mother’s grave. Seeing me, she rushed over to support me. “Why do you look so terrible? Are you sick?” I shook my head, my voice hoarse. “Why are you here?” “My heart wasn’t at peace. I came to keep the teacher company.” I fell silent. Kristian and I stayed with my mother all afternoon. The cemetery lights came on. Kristian said, “Let’s go. Get something to eat.” “Mm!” At the restaurant, we ran into Billson and Claude. “Guy, you rushed off just to meet her?” Billson’s face darkened as she pointed at Kristian and questioned me. Before I could speak, Kristian explained. “You’ve misunderstood. Guy and I ran into each other at the cemetery.” Billson laughed coldly. “Having a date at the cemetery—how discreet. No wonder I never noticed.” “Tell me, how long have you two been sneaking around together?”

My expression turned ugly. “Billson, what nonsense are you spouting?” Kristian’s face also darkened. “Miss Billson, please speak respectfully. I went to the cemetery to keep the teacher company.” Billson froze for a moment, then trembled with rage. “His mom is fine in the hospital, and to cover up your affair with Guy, you’re actually cursing her.” “You were the teacher’s student. She practically treated you like her own daughter. Do you have any humanity left?” “And you, Guy!” Billson looked at me furiously. “She’s cursing your mom right here, and you’re not saying a word!” I painfully turned my head away. Kristian said coldly, “Miss Billson, you have no right whatsoever to criticize Guy or me.” “The teacher passed away a week ago, and you never showed up once from beginning to end.” “The heartless one is you!” Billson’s face suddenly turned deathly pale. “That’s impossible!” “Guy, tell me what she’s saying isn’t true.” “Billson, calm down.” Claude held Billson and turned to question me. “Guy, something as major as your mother’s death—how could you not tell Billson?” Billson seemed to find an excuse and immediately followed up with her own question. “Right, why didn’t you tell me?” I answered coldly, “I wanted to tell you too, but did you give me a chance to speak?” Kristian took my hand, offering me comfort. “Guy, let’s go! Billson, if you have any heart left, go pay respects at the teacher’s grave.” “Don’t you dare leave!” Billson broke away from Claude to block me. Claude was pulled off balance, his wrist hitting the corner of the table. He cried out in pain. But this time Billson ignored him, spreading her arms to block my path. I sighed helplessly and said to Kristian. “You leave first. Wait for me outside.” Kristian nodded and said to Billson in a cool voice. “The teacher is gone. You have no standing to blame anyone.” Billson didn’t respond. She just looked at me. After Kristian left, I asked calmly, “What else do you want to say?” Billson was very agitated. “Why didn’t you tell me? Mom passed away? What right did you have not to tell me?” “Everyone knew except me. How do you expect people to look at me?” So she only cared about how others saw her. I laughed at myself inwardly. “Don’t worry. I already explained for you. No one will look at you with judgmental eyes.” “From now on, you’ll still be the pairs piano champion in everyone’s eyes. The center of attention!” Hearing this, Billson’s body swayed, and she collapsed weakly to the floor. “No, that’s not it. That’s not what I wanted.” “You should have told me. You should have told me.” She repeated it over and over, tears streaming from her eyes. It was the first time I’d seen her so fragile. But I felt no sympathy! Because my heart was already dead! It could no longer feel pain! Billson looked up at me, tears ruining her makeup. “What day did Mom pass?” I looked at her, my eyes devoid of emotion. “The same day you and Claude won the championship.” “Mom left with regret. You know what her wish was. We were just one step away from achieving it, but that day I called you over and over.” “What I got instead was you and Claude standing on that podium.” Billson frantically pulled out her phone, fumbling through her call history, finally seeing the dozens of missed calls from a week ago. “After Mom passed, I called you right away, but you were only focused on celebrating your victory with Claude.” “An entire week. If you’d shown even the slightest concern for Mom, you wouldn’t have ignored it completely.”

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When I was hemorrhaging in the ICU, Wallace was in my exclusive hospital room with his first love Aurora, having sex. I posted the photos the nurse took of the lingerie scattered all over the floor and used condoms in the patient group chat. “Mr. Wallace, please have your first love clean up the filth on the floor.” But unexpectedly, Wallace called me. Aurora’s moans came through the phone: “Wallace… don’t bite there… let’s go to the bathroom.” In the background was Wallace’s indulgent whisper: “She’s dying anyway, what’s there to be afraid of?” Aurora continued showing off to me over the phone: “Wallace said that after you die, I’ll be his wife.” They thought I was just a nobody orphan with no background, kept alive by the Wallace family. I pulled out the IV from my hand and pressed the red call button by the bed. “Revoke all exclusive authorizations for Number One from Wallace Group Pharmaceuticals.” The cold liquid stopped flowing into my veins. The call button by the bed emitted a piercing sound. The door opened. It wasn’t a nurse who entered, but a man in a black suit with a solemn expression. “Miss Prescott.” He bowed slightly. It was my most capable assistant, Reece. “Execute Plan B.” My voice was weak from blood loss, but every word was crystal clear. “Immediately. Right now.” Reece nodded without a moment’s hesitation. He took out his phone and dialed a number. “It’s me, Reece. Activate highest authority. Terminate all exclusive cooperation authorizations for the ‘Number One’ project with Wallace Group Pharmaceuticals immediately.” “Yes, all of them.” There seemed to be some hesitation on the other end. Reece’s tone was absolute. “This is Miss Prescott’s final decision.” After hanging up, he looked at me with a trace of concern in his eyes. “The Chairman…” “I am the Chairman.” I closed my eyes. Exhaustion washed over me like a tide. My phone vibrated wildly on the nightstand by the bed. It was Wallace. I didn’t answer. Soon, a text message popped up. “Prescott, what tricks are you playing now? Don’t think you can get my attention this way.” “Let me tell you, it won’t work. Behave yourself and wait for me to come back.” I looked at those lines and laughed. The laughter tugged at my abdominal wound. A sharp pain shot through me. The nurse, Martha, rushed in. Seeing the needle mark on my hand bleeding, she turned pale with fright. “Miss Prescott! Why did you pull out the IV yourself! This is too dangerous!” She fumbled to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. “Martha, thank you for the photos.” She froze, then lowered her head. “I… I just couldn’t stand it…” “You did very well.” I had her hand me my phone. I opened the patient group chat. Aurora was still jumping around causing trouble. She posted a selfie. The background was my exclusive hospital room. She was wearing Wallace’s white shirt, with glaring red marks on her collarbone. “Oh my, some people’s hospital rooms are just so big, like a presidential suite. It’s really comfortable living here.” “What a shame, the person’s almost done for. What a waste.” I typed expressionlessly. “Miss Aurora, what do you think? Will Wallace Group Pharmaceuticals’ stock price hit the limit down tomorrow?” Aurora replied instantly. “You psycho, are you cursing the Wallace family to go bankrupt? Wallace won’t let you get away with this!” I ignored her. Less than ten minutes later, the hospital room door was violently slammed open. Wallace and Aurora barged in one after the other. Wallace’s face was full of rage, like an enraged lion. “Prescott! What the fuck did you say to Reece!” He rushed to my bedside and grabbed my wrist. “Who the hell do you think you are? A dying orphan, and you actually think you’re somebody?” Aurora clung to his arm, looking at me triumphantly. “Prescott, stop making trouble. Wallace’s family gave you this life. How can you repay kindness with ingratitude?” “Hurry up and apologize to Wallace. Help him calm down.” I looked at them and found it utterly ridiculous. My life was given by the Wallace family? “Wallace, didn’t your company’s legal department notify you?” “The ownership of ‘Number One’ was never with Wallace Group.” Wallace’s expression changed instantly. The rage in his eyes faded, replaced by suspicion and uncertainty as he looked at me. “What do you mean?” Reece walked in from outside at just the right moment, holding a document in his hand. He handed the document to Wallace, his voice cold as ice. “Mr. Wallace, this is a copy of the authorization termination agreement.” “From now on, Wallace Group Pharmaceuticals has no right to produce or sell any products related to ‘Number One.’” “In addition, given that Wallace Group breached the contract first, we will seek compensation of fifty percent of the profits from the past three years.” Wallace snatched the document and flipped through it quickly. His hands began to tremble. His face turned from red to white, then from white to blue. “Impossible… this is absolutely impossible!” “The patent holder is clearly an overseas company. How could you possibly…” He suddenly looked up at me, his eyes full of disbelief. Aurora panicked too. She shook Wallace’s arm. “Wallace, she’s bluffing, right? How could an orphan like her have this much power?” I gently pulled my hand free from Wallace’s grasp. “Forgot to tell you. That overseas company is mine.”

Wallace looked as if all his strength had been drained. He staggered back a step. He stared at me intently, as if seeing me for the first time. “You… you’ve been lying to me all along?” I curved my lips slightly, finding this question incredibly stupid. “You’re just dumb.” “You assumed I was that little dog from the orphanage you picked up, who could only wag her tail and beg from you.” Aurora shrieked. “You bitch! You schemed against our Wallace!” She lunged at me with teeth and claws bared. Reece stepped forward and blocked me like a wall. “Miss Aurora, please show some self-respect.” Wallace grabbed Aurora. His voice was hoarse. “Prescott, let’s talk.” “I have nothing to talk about with you.” I lay back down and pulled the blanket over myself. “Reece, show them out.” “Prescott!” Wallace shouted unwillingly. “Do you have to be this ruthless? Three years of feelings, you don’t care about them at all?” Feelings? I almost laughed out loud. Was it the feelings he had while messing around with his first love in my hospital room when I was in critical surgery? Or the feelings when he said “she’s dying anyway, so what if she sees”? “Wallace, are you worthy of talking about feelings?” I threw off the blanket, sat up, and looked directly into his eyes. “Get out.” “Or I’ll have security throw you out.” Wallace’s fists clenched so hard they crackled. Aurora behind him was still fanning the flames. “Wallace, don’t beg her! She’s just an ungrateful bitch! Let’s go! Let’s see how she survives without the Wallace family!” Wallace’s rationality seemed to be ignited by this sentence. He took a deep breath, his eyes turning vicious again. “Fine, Prescott, very good.” “You think pulling one drug can bring down the Wallace family?” “Let me tell you, you’re digging your own grave!” He dragged the still-cursing Aurora out and slammed the door. The world was finally quiet. Reece poured me a glass of warm water. “Miss, the Wallace Group won’t let this go easily.” “I know.” I took a sip of water to moisten my dry throat. “Let them make a fuss. The bigger the better.” The Wallace family’s foundation was Wallace Group Pharmaceuticals. And Wallace Group Pharmaceuticals’ glory over the past three years was almost entirely due to “Number One,” this miracle drug. “Number One” was my life’s work. It was the result I achieved through countless days and nights of using my own body for clinical trials. It could effectively suppress organ failure caused by a rare genetic defect in my body, and could also treat various cardiovascular terminal illnesses on the market. Back then, when my condition flared up and I was on the verge of death, it was Wallace’s father, Thompson, who found me. He promised to give me the best medical resources and let me recover in peace. The condition was that I had to grant exclusive production and sales rights for “Number One” to Wallace Group Pharmaceuticals. I agreed. Because at that time, I really did need a stable environment. And also because Wallace’s meticulous care for me made me have illusions. I thought I had found someone I could entrust my life to. I thought the love he spoke of was real. Looking back now, from beginning to end, it was all an elaborate scam. What they valued was never me as a person, but “Number One” in my hands. They kept me confined in this top-tier exclusive hospital room, claiming it was care when it was actually surveillance. Making me think I couldn’t survive without them. How ridiculous. My phone rang again. This time it was Thompson. I answered. An steady voice tinged with anger came through. “Miss Prescott, Wallace is young and doesn’t understand. Why bother arguing with him?” “For the sake of us taking care of you for three years, making this big won’t benefit anyone.” My tone was flat. “Mr. Thompson, I’m just taking back what belongs to me.” “As for the debt of care, the profits ‘Number One’ has brought to Wallace Group over these years should have repaid it long ago, right?” Thompson was silent for a moment. “Prescott, what exactly do you want?” “Very simple.” “Wallace, with that woman, come before me and kneel to apologize.” “Otherwise, I’ll see you in court.” With that, I hung up directly. I knew Thompson wouldn’t agree. Wallace was his proudest son, the heir to Wallace Group. How could he possibly let his son kneel before me, this “orphan”? I just wanted them to recognize a fact. That the current me had the qualification to make them kneel.

The next day, Wallace Group Pharmaceuticals’ stock price hit the limit down as soon as the market opened. The news that “Wallace Group’s core drug patent authorization was terminated” spread like a virus throughout the entire financial circle. Media calls nearly blew up Reece’s phone. I lay peacefully in my hospital bed, looking at the news on the tablet Reece handed me. Each headline was more sensational than the last. 《Business Empire Collapses Overnight? Wallace Group Pharmaceuticals Suffers Fatal Blow!》 《Who Is the Mysterious Patent Holder? Wallace Family Heir May Be Biggest Loser!》 I even saw photos of Aurora surrounded by reporters at the hospital entrance, her face ashen. So satisfying. At noon, Reece brought lunch. It was my favorite dishes, light and delicate. “Miss, the hospital has been taken care of.” “From today on, your security level will be raised to the highest. No one can approach this room without permission.” I nodded. “Any movement from the Wallace family?” “Thompson called an emergency board meeting to try to stabilize the stock price, but with little effect.” “Wallace… he seems to have been grounded by Thompson.” I scooped up a spoonful of porridge and drank it slowly. “He won’t stay quiet.” Given Wallace’s personality, he would never sit still. Sure enough, that afternoon, there was a commotion outside my hospital room. It was Aurora. She was blocked outside by two tall security guards, crying and shouting hysterically. “Prescott! You vicious woman! Come out!” “You’ve harmed Wallace so badly, what are your intentions!” “You think you’ve won? Let me tell you, Wallace said even if he dies, he won’t be with a malicious woman like you!” I pressed the intercom by my bed. My voice came through the speaker outside the door. “Miss Aurora, this is a hospital. Please keep quiet.” “Otherwise, I’ll call the police for harassing a patient.” Aurora’s crying stopped for a moment, then became even shriller. “Call the police? Fine! Go ahead! Let everyone see your true colors!” “You ungrateful thing! Without the Wallace family, you’d be dead already!” I turned off the intercom, not wanting to hear her noise anymore. Reece frowned. “Do you need me to drive her away?” “No need.” I shook my head. “Let her make a scene. The more vicious she is, the more the Wallace family loses face.” I wanted everyone to see that the future mistress of the Wallace family was such a vulgar shrew. Aurora made a scene outside for nearly an hour until her voice went hoarse, then she was forcibly dragged away by security. The world returned to peace. But this peace didn’t last long. That evening, Thompson came in person. He looked even older than his voice sounded on the phone, his temples already graying. He carried a fruit basket, with a tired smile on his face. “Miss Prescott, about what happened during the day, that was my failure to discipline properly. I embarrassed you.” I said nothing, just looked at him. “I’ve had Wallace reflect at home. When he comes to his senses, I’ll definitely have him come apologize to you personally.” He placed the fruit basket on the table, his posture very humble. “Miss Prescott, we’ve cooperated for three years, very happily.” “‘Number One’ is your life’s work and Wallace Group’s future. Neither of us can do without the other.” “What do you say, can we sit down and renegotiate the terms of cooperation?” I finally spoke. “My terms were stated yesterday.” The smile on Thompson’s face froze. “Prescott, leave some room for maneuver. It’ll be easier to meet again in the future.” “You’re still young. The road ahead is long. There’s no need to be so ruthless.” “Are you threatening me, Mr. Thompson?” I met his gaze without flinching. “The thing I fear least is threats.” Thompson’s expression completely darkened. “You really think the Wallace family is made of clay?” “Without ‘Number One’, Wallace Group will indeed be severely damaged, but it won’t collapse.” “And you, Prescott, believe it or not, I have a hundred ways to make sure you never leave this hospital.” The air in the room instantly dropped to freezing point. Reece unconsciously moved a step closer to me. But I smiled. “Mr. Thompson, you’re welcome to try.” “Let’s see if you can make me unable to leave this hospital first, or if I can get your Wallace Group delisted from the stock exchange first.” Thompson’s pupils constricted sharply. He probably didn’t expect me to dare speak to him this way. We faced off for a long time. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned to leave. “You’ll regret this.” He left that sentence behind and walked away without looking back. I knew the real war had only just begun.

Thompson’s methods were more direct and more despicable than I had imagined. Early the next morning, my attending physician came to talk to me. He looked troubled, his words evasive. “Miss Prescott, regarding your condition… we may need to conduct a comprehensive reassessment.” “As you know, your genetic defect is very rare. Our hospital’s current medical capabilities may be… somewhat inadequate.” I looked at him without saying a word. This Dr. Brown had been in charge of my treatment for three years. He was a skilled physician with good medical ethics. I knew that every word he was saying now was not his true intention. “So?” I asked. “So… we recommend you transfer to a specialized research institution abroad for treatment.” “Of course, this is just a suggestion. The final decision is still yours.” He didn’t dare look me in the eye. After speaking, he left hurriedly. Reece’s expression was very ugly. “Miss Prescott, this is Thompson working behind the scenes.” “He wants to cut off your treatment and force you to submit.” I sneered. “He thinks my life is still in his hands.” “How naive.” I picked up my phone and dialed a number. The call was answered quickly. An elderly but gentle voice came through. “Prescott, what made you think to call me?” “Professor Pierre, I’d like to ask you for a favor.” Professor Pierre on the other end was a giant in the domestic genetics field and also my mentor. Back then, when I entered his program with my ailing body, he was the one who, against all opposition, gave me the opportunity to continue my research. The development of “Number One” was inseparable from his guidance and help. I briefly explained the current situation. After hearing it, Professor Pierre was furious. “Outrageous! Thompson is treating human life with contempt!” “Prescott, don’t worry. I’ll handle this!” “I’ll contact the leadership at the Health Department immediately. I’d like to see who dares to touch my student!” After hanging up, a weight lifted from my heart. With Professor Pierre stepping in, it would be basically impossible for Thompson to pressure me through the medical system. But things didn’t end there. That afternoon, a large amount of dirt about me suddenly exploded online. It said I had a chaotic private life, that I rose to power through improper relationships, and stole core secrets from Wallace Group Pharmaceuticals. It also said I was ungrateful, that after Wallace, the Wallace family heir, gave everything for me, I ruthlessly abandoned him. The posts attached many so-called “evidence.” There were photos of me entering and leaving high-end clubs, “intimate photos” of me with different men. There was even a forged medical report saying I had a terminal illness and didn’t have long to live, which is why my temperament changed drastically and I was taking revenge on society. These posts were reposted by countless netizens, instantly igniting public opinion. My name, for the first time, topped the trending searches in such a disgraceful way. The comments section was full of abuse and curses directed at me. “So she’s a scheming bitch. And I actually felt sorry for her.” “Wallace is so pitiful. He really met the wrong person.” “This kind of woman should go to hell!” Aurora also jumped out and posted a suggestive tweet. “Good and evil will be rewarded. Heaven’s way is cyclical. If you don’t believe, look up. Who has heaven spared?” She portrayed herself as a victim who was wronged by a mistress but remained tolerant and kind, gaining massive sympathy. Her fans flooded my Twitter and turned the comments section into a trash dump. Reece was so angry his face turned iron blue. “Miss, this must be the Wallace family! So shameless!” “I’ll contact the PR team immediately to handle it.” “No need.” I stopped him. “Let them curse. The uglier the better.” “The Wallace family is desperate now. The more they do this, the more it proves they’re out of options.” I looked at those vicious comments with complete inner calm. Over these years, the life-and-death trials I’d experienced were far more brutal than these rumors. They couldn’t hurt me. I was just waiting for an opportunity. An opportunity to ensure the Wallace family would never rise again.

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Sharon, my husband’s mother, had always looked down on me, despising me for being poor and unsophisticated, unworthy of her son. I thought that if I just worked hard enough, I could eventually earn her approval. Until I returned from a business trip to find my house had been completely emptied by Sharon. My home had been sold by my husband, Ethan. Just as I was sinking into despair, I received a call from my dad: “Sweetheart, I’ve got amazing news—your mom and I won the $300 million lottery!” I hung up the phone and suddenly laughed. I couldn’t wait to see Ethan’s expression when he realized that for a few hundred thousand dollars, he’d thrown away a wife worth hundreds of millions. The metal wheels of the high-speed train scraped against the tracks, emitting a long, reassuring rumble. I dragged my 24-inch suitcase and stood at the familiar door of my home. After half a month of intense business travel, every part of my body screamed with exhaustion. But thinking of Ethan, who always smiled so warmly, a wave of comfort rose in my heart. The commission I’d earned from this project was substantial—enough for us to pay off a full year of mortgage ahead of schedule. I’d even used my project bonus to buy him that watch he’d been talking about for so long. Imagining his delighted expression when he saw the gift, all my exhaustion from the journey melted away. I took out my key, ready to give him a surprise hug. I inserted the key into the lock. It wouldn’t turn. Metal scraped against metal with an incompatible, grating sound. I froze. What’s going on? I tried again, applying more force. The lock cylinder didn’t budge. A faint unease crept up from my heart like a vine. I pulled out my phone and called Ethan. “Hello, the number you have dialed is currently on another call. Please try again later.” The cold mechanical female voice repeated over and over. On another call? At this hour, he should be home playing video games. I called Sharon. “Hello, the number you have dialed is currently switched off.” The unease instantly magnified, like ink dropped into clear water, rapidly staining my entire heart black. I leaned against the cold security door, my fingers trembling through my contacts. Finally, I found the locksmith’s number. Half an hour later, a middle-aged man in blue overalls appeared before me. “The lock’s been changed,” the master said after examining the lock cylinder, his tone certain. “You must’ve pissed someone off. Whoever did this was pretty ruthless.” My heart sank sharply. Amid the piercing sound of the electric drill, the door I’d walked through every day finally cracked open. I handed over three hundred dollars, forgot to even say thank you, and impatiently pushed the door open. Empty. Everything was empty. No familiar sofa, no TV cabinet we’d picked out together, no dining table I’d wiped clean every day. Only a few lonely cardboard boxes sat in the center of the living room, filled with worthless odds and ends. Sunlight streamed through the curtainless windows, casting large swaths of dust particles on the floor. This didn’t look like a home—it looked like an abandoned warehouse. I rushed into the bedroom. Empty. Our king-size bed had vanished, along with the jewelry box I’d kept in the nightstand. The closet stood wide open, containing only a few old clothes I’d changed out of before my trip, thrown carelessly in the corner like rags. I frantically dialed Ethan’s number, again and again. Always that same message: “currently on another call.” I’d been blocked. This realization poured over me like a bucket of ice water from head to toe. I tried calling Sharon again. Switched off. No. Impossible. They couldn’t have just left like this. There must be some misunderstanding. I collapsed onto the cold floor, my body trembling uncontrollably. Just then, Mrs. Walker from across the hall opened her door and poked her head out. “Oh my, Emily’s back?” Her face wore a complex expression mixing sympathy and gossip. “You’re finally home! Your husband and his mom moved out a week ago.” “Moved out?” My voice was as dry as sandpaper. “Yeah, they were all cheerful about it. Said your husband made it big somewhere and was taking his mom to live the good life in another city!” Mrs. Walker’s voice continued. “I asked why you weren’t with them, and he said you were busy with work, that he’d go ahead and get everything set up, then come back for you later. You’re so lucky, Emily, finding such a successful husband.” Live the good life. Made it big. Each word was like a knife, stabbing viciously into my chest. I finally understood. This wasn’t a misunderstanding. This was a premeditated abandonment. I’d given everything to this family. To save money for the mortgage, I hadn’t bought myself a single new piece of clothing in three years. To care for his demanding mother, I’d learned to cook her favorite dishes. I’d handled all the housework, getting up early and staying up late, serving him and Sharon like they were royalty. I thought my devotion would earn their genuine care. Turns out, in their eyes, I was just trash they could discard at any moment. All my social media accounts, every way to contact them—deleted completely. I was like someone who’d appeared out of thin air and disappeared the same way. They’d erased every trace of my existence. The sky gradually darkened. Cold darkness swallowed the entire room, and swallowed me too. “Knock, knock, knock.” A knocking sound. I numbly lifted my head to see two people in security uniforms standing at the door. “Excuse me, we received a complaint from the property owner about a suspicious person staying here for an extended period.” One of the young security guards looked at me warily. “This is my home,” I spoke, my voice hoarse beyond recognition. “Your home? This house was sold a week ago. The new owner asked us to watch the property and not let anyone in.” The older security guard sized me up, his eyes full of suspicion. “Please leave immediately.” They “escorted” me out of the place I’d once called home, one on each side. The wheels of my suitcase rolled across the concrete, making hollow, grating sounds. I stood at the entrance to the residential complex, watching the coming and going of vehicles and pedestrians, feeling humiliated and wretched for the first time. I’d become a joke. A homeless joke.

The city’s neon lights stung my eyes. I dragged my suitcase, wandering the streets like a ghost. My phone battery was down to five percent. I didn’t dare tell my parents. They were both honest, hardworking people who’d scrimped and saved their whole lives. I didn’t want them worrying about me. I walked into a 24-hour fast food restaurant and found a seat in the farthest corner. The place reeked of fried chicken and burgers, greasy enough to turn my stomach. I laid my head on the cold table, looking at the high-rises outside the window. Every window glowed with warm light. Behind those lights were complete families. And I had been abandoned by mine. Tears fell without warning, drop by drop hitting the tabletop, spreading into small wet spots. I bit my lip hard, not letting myself cry out loud. My phone vibrated once in my pocket, its faint glow a final struggle. It was my dad calling. I took a deep breath, using every ounce of strength to suppress the sob in my throat, and pressed answer. “Hello, Dad.” “Sweetheart!” On the other end, my dad’s voice was unusually excited and trembling. “I’ve got amazing news! Incredible news!” I listened numbly. What good news could compare to the catastrophe I was experiencing? “The lottery ticket your mom and I bought—we won! We hit the jackpot!” My brain went completely blank, like someone had hit me hard with a sledgehammer. “How… how much?” “Three hundred million!” My dad’s voice cracked with excitement. “That’s right, $300 million! Sweetheart!” I gripped the phone, feeling like I was dreaming. Auditory hallucination. I must be so desperate I was hearing things. “Dad, don’t joke around.” “Who’s joking with you! It’s already on the news—we’re the anonymous lottery winners from our city! The money’s already in our account! I just transferred a million to you. Use it for now! Sweetheart, come home right away! Our family needs to celebrate properly! Dad’s going to buy you a mansion and a sports car! From now on, no one will ever bully you again!” No one will ever bully you again. Those words were like a key, instantly opening the floodgates of my emotions. I hung up and opened my mobile banking app. A new transfer record appeared prominently on the screen. Amount received: One million dollars. That long string of zeros glowed with blinding light in the dim fast food restaurant. Tears surged out again, blurring my vision. But this time, it wasn’t because of despair and humiliation. I wiped away my tears, stood up, and dragged my suitcase out of the fast food restaurant. Across the street stood a magnificent five-star hotel. I walked in. “Hello, I’d like to book a presidential suite.” The receptionist’s professional smile froze for a moment, then returned to normal. I swiped my card, took the room key, and walked into the elevator. The room was on the top floor. Beyond the huge floor-to-ceiling windows lay the glittering night view of the entire city. I stood before the window, looking down at the endless stream of traffic below. They flowed like golden rivers, rushing ceaselessly. Ethan. Sharon. You abandoned me for a few hundred thousand dollars. You thought you’d kicked me into hell. Little did you know, you’d personally delivered me to heaven. I suddenly laughed. In this brilliant night scene, my laughter sounded especially clear. The laughter carried tears, carried hate, and even more, an unprecedented resolve. The flames of revenge burned fiercely in my chest. The game was only just beginning.

I slept in the soft bed until I woke naturally. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, filling the entire room with warmth and brightness. I ordered the hotel’s most expensive room service. Exquisite silver tableware, fresh ingredients—everything proclaimed the taste of money. After breakfast, I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror—haggard, with dull eyes. This face was written all over with pleasing others and humility. It was time to say goodbye to the old Emily. I took a taxi to the city’s most upscale luxury shopping mall. This was a paradise for the rich, and a place where I’d once needed courage just to step inside. I walked into a top luxury brand store. “Welcome.” The sales associate wore a standard smile, but when her eyes swept over my faded T-shirt, a flash of contempt crossed them. I ignored her. I walked straight to a row of new season items, pointing at a sleek black dress. “This one, and this one, and this one—wrap up everything I point to.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough. The sales associate froze, seemingly not processing this. “Miss, are you… sure?” Her tone carried doubt. I pulled a black card from my wallet and gently placed it on the glass counter. “Do I look like I’m joking?” When the sales associate saw that unlimited black card, her expression changed instantly. The contempt and doubt vanished without a trace, replaced by extreme deference and flattery. “Yes, yes, please wait a moment. I’ll wrap these up right away!” Her waist bent almost ninety degrees. Over the next few hours, I became the queen of the entire mall. Without batting an eye, I bought all the designer clothes, bags, and jewelry I’d once been reluctant to buy or even look at. The sales associates who’d once treated me with indifference now followed behind me, competing to introduce products, their faces full of ingratiating smiles. For the first time, I clearly felt the power that money brings. It could make proud heads bow, could make hypocritical faces seem sincere. After my shopping spree, I went to the city’s top styling salon. “Cut it off,” I told the style director, pointing at my long hair I’d kept for years. In the crisp sound of scissors, all that past docility and humility, along with those split ends, were cut away and scattered on the floor. An hour later, a brand new me appeared in the mirror. Sharp, stylish shoulder-length hair, exquisite yet cool makeup, eyes that no longer held any trace of timidity—only calm and detachment. Strange, yet familiar. This was the real me. Leaving the salon, I went straight to the Porsche dealership. “I want that red 911. Full payment.” The sales manager almost thought he’d misheard, but after confirming my bank account balance, he immediately processed everything with the most enthusiastic service. Driving the brand new red sports car, I returned to my parents’ home. They’d already moved to a high-end gated community in the suburbs. When I appeared before them in the car, my mom’s tears immediately flowed. She rushed over and hugged me tightly, her palm repeatedly stroking my short hair. “My poor daughter, from now on Mom will never let you suffer again.” My dad stood to the side, his eyes red, repeatedly saying, “It’s good you’re back, it’s good you’re back.” Seeing their heartbroken yet relieved expressions, the emotions I’d been holding in all day finally threatened to break through. In front of family, I could always let down all my defenses. That evening, our family seriously discussed the future. We established a family trust fund, with me in full management. My parents knew nothing about business. They just wanted to live peacefully. And I had to use this money to build an impregnable fortress for our family. Never again would anyone have the chance to hurt us. Outside, the night was deep. Inside the villa, lights blazed. A new era for Emily was beginning.

To handle some old documents and certificates, I drove that flashy red Porsche back to the city center. I parked the car in front of a coffee shop I used to frequent. I was about to get out when the corner of my eye caught a familiar figure. Sharon. She sat by the window in the coffee shop, across from a bejeweled rich lady. Even through the glass, I could see her smug, animated expression. “Oh, you have no idea—my Ethan is so successful now!” Her voice was shrill, piercing through the glass and faintly reaching my ears. “He sold that tiny apartment and brought me to the big city to enjoy life! He says he’s going to buy me a big mansion! There was even some rich girl chasing after him recently, driving a BMW, from a family that owns a company!” The rich lady elegantly sipped her coffee, but her eyes held disdain. “Is that so? Well, congratulations then.” Her tone was perfunctory at best. I watched Sharon’s face flush red from bragging, the corner of my mouth curling into a cold smile. I pushed open the car door, put on my sunglasses, and stepped out. The red sports car, combined with my haute couture outfit, instantly attracted everyone’s attention. I could feel almost every gaze in the coffee shop focusing on me. Including, of course, Sharon’s. I walked into the coffee shop in my high heels, heading straight inside. Sharon’s gaze was like poisoned nails, pinning onto me. Those eyes were full of jealousy and contempt, as if looking at a gold-digging vixen. She hadn’t recognized me yet. Makes sense—in her mind, her daughter-in-law Emily was always disheveled, always in cheap T-shirts and jeans. How could she possibly be this woman with a commanding presence? I walked to the counter, my voice just loud enough for everyone in the coffee shop to hear. “One cup of Kopi Luwak, please.” As I ordered, I deliberately raised my wrist and adjusted my cuff. The diamond-encrusted watch worth a million dollars refracted dazzling light under the lamps. I heard a faint gasp from behind me. I turned around with my coffee, ready to find a seat. My gaze swept across Sharon’s face, seemingly by accident. In that moment, her pupils contracted sharply. The smugness and boasting on her face instantly froze, replaced by extreme shock and disbelief. She’d recognized me. Her mouth dropped open, jaw nearly hitting the floor, and the coffee cup in her hand trembled, spilling brown liquid all over her knockoff designer outfit. Everyone around her cast strange looks her way. The rich lady frowned and quietly shifted away from her. And I just gave her a light glance. Like looking at a complete stranger. My eyes held no hate, no resentment, not even a ripple. Just pure indifference. In her shocked, dazed, humiliated gaze, I elegantly turned and walked out of the coffee shop. Getting into the sports car, I saw through the rearview mirror her stumbling out of the coffee shop, staring blankly at the direction my car disappeared. I knew that from today on, her peaceful “good days” were over. A good show was about to begin.

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My husband Andrew and my best friend Andy went to the mountains to find inspiration for his new art exhibition, and they both went missing. The rescue team was conducting a carpet search through the forest, and I had cried while running from one end of the mountain to the other. Suddenly, a sparrow landed on a branch by my shoulder, tilting its head and chirping: [Oh my! My eyes! Two humans naked and kissing each other, don’t even know the cave is about to collapse.] I froze. So this is what they meant by “finding inspiration”? I immediately wiped away my tears, rushed to the rescue captain, and clutched my ankle with a pained expression: “Captain! I twisted my ankle.” “Captain, my ankle… it hurts so much…” The rescue captain was a dark-skinned middle-aged man. Seeing me collapse to the ground, he hurried over to help me up. “Kristen, don’t panic. Let me check your injury first.” He crouched down and gently touched my ankle. I immediately exaggerated with a sharp hiss, scrunching up my face. “No, I can’t move it at all. It feels like needles stabbing me when I move!” The captain frowned deeply. “If it hurts this badly, it might be a serious soft tissue injury. You can’t walk anymore.” He turned to his team member and ordered, “Paul, escort Kristen down the mountain first and find her a place to rest.” My heart sank. Go down the mountain? How could that work? I needed to stay here to make sure that cheating pair got buried good and deep. I grabbed the captain’s arm and shook my head, crying. “No! I won’t go down the mountain! Andrew hasn’t been found yet. How can I leave!” “I’ll wait right here! I’m not going anywhere!” My sincere appearance moved all the rescue team members and several kind-hearted villagers present. “What a devoted wife. She’s injured but still worried about her husband.” “Yeah, such a loving girl.” The captain couldn’t persuade me otherwise, so he had someone find me a flat rock to sit on and brought over a first aid kit for simple treatment. While pretending to groan in pain, I used the corner of my eye to survey my surroundings. Perfect. This position gave me a clear view of the main route leading to that dangerous mountain area. The forest here was dense and rarely visited by people. From earlier until now, apart from our group, we hadn’t seen a single soul. As long as I delayed long enough, once the cave collapsed… A sharp sound of brakes screeched through the air. A brand new Maybach roughly stopped by the mountain road. The car door opened, and Andrew’s brother Tobias jumped out. Andrew had bought him this car with my money. We’d even fought about it. Tobias had posted on Twitter subtly accusing me of being stingy. Tobias immediately spotted me surrounded by the crowd and rushed over in a few strides. “Kristen! Why are you sitting here? Where’s Andrew? Have you found him?” I lifted my red, swollen eyes and pointed at my ankle. “I twisted my ankle…” He raised his voice in disgust. “What’s the big deal about a twisted ankle?” “Andrew’s life or death is uncertain, and you can’t even put in more effort? All these people are searching, and here you are, taking a break!” Everyone around was stunned. The rescue captain’s face darkened. Tobias completely ignored everyone’s stares and barked orders at the rescue captain. “What the hell are you all doing? It’s been so long and you still haven’t found anyone!” “Let me tell you, Andrew is the breadwinner of our family! If anything happens to him, can you afford the responsibility?” Seeing no one paying attention to him, he started with the moral blackmail. “Now that Andrew is missing, I’m his only family member!” “I’m ordering you, right now, immediately, increase the search and rescue efforts! No one is allowed to rest!” That self-righteous look on his face made my stomach churn. However, his timing was perfect. I needed someone to take the blame.

On the branch by my shoulder, the sparrow started chirping again. [Oh! That cave is dropping dirt! They’re scared and hugging each other, still kissing!] [The man says even if they die, they’ll die together. So romantic!] Romantic? I lowered my eyelids, hiding the hatred in my eyes. Then I’ll grant your wish to become a pair of dead lovebirds. Tobias was still over there verbally attacking the rescue team, spitting as he spoke. “Are you even professional? It’s been hours and you haven’t found a single ghost!” “Andrew is a renowned artist! His time is precious! Can you afford to compensate?” I knew what he was anxious about. Tobias hadn’t held a proper job since graduating from college. He loafed around all day, relying entirely on Andrew’s support. The car was bought with my money, the apartment he lived in had its mortgage paid by Andrew, and even his dating expenses came from asking Andrew every few days. His eagerness to find Andrew was simply to perform his “brotherly love” in front of relatives, so he could continue to leech money from Andrew in the future. The rescue captain’s face turned iron-blue from his yelling, but he still patiently explained, “Sir, we are professionals. Please don’t interfere with our work.” Tobias snorted coldly. “Professional? Professional means running around like headless chickens?” His eyes rolled, and seeing me sitting on the rock crying, he immediately redirected his attack. “Kristen! Stop just crying! You know best where Andrew likes to go. Quickly give the captain a direction!” The opportunity had come. I lifted my tearful face, putting on an effort to recall, deliberately hesitating for a long time. After a while, I extended my trembling hand and pointed in the completely opposite direction from the dangerous mountain. “I… I remember now. Andrew mentioned once that… that the scenery at Lover’s Valley to the south is especially beautiful, and it could inspire his creativity.” “He said… he said he wanted to go see it with Andy…” I choked up at the right moment. Lover’s Valley was a famous scenic spot in this mountain area. The scenery was beautiful, but the terrain was flat. It had no adventure value whatsoever, and it was impossible for anyone to go missing there. The rescue captain was somewhat skeptical. “Lover’s Valley? We already checked that area. The signal is good, the roads are easy to walk. It’s unlikely…” Hearing a lead, Tobias’s eager, opportunistic brain immediately ignited. “What do you mean unlikely! Kristen already said Andrew was going there for inspiration!” “It must be that Andrew, to be with… cough, for the sake of art, deliberately found a secluded corner, and his phone just died!” He snatched the map from the captain’s hands, pointing at the direction of Lover’s Valley with a grand wave. “Stop wasting time! Everyone, follow me to Lover’s Valley! Hurry!” The captain frowned. “But the mountain roads there aren’t accessible by vehicle, and…” “And what!” Tobias shouted impatiently. “Is Andrew’s life important or your rules? Main force, everyone follow me! Just leave a few people to watch Kristen!” Watching Tobias lead most of the rescue team and the media reporters who caught wind of the story marching magnificently in the wrong direction, I sneered inwardly. Go ahead, go as far as you can. Best if you can’t make it back until nightfall. That way, no one could disturb Andrew and Andy’s “private time together.”

The weather changed in an instant. Just moments ago there were only dark clouds. In the blink of an eye, rain the size of beans came pouring down. No wonder the sparrow said there would be a collapse. Turns out there’s a rainstorm today. The few rescue team members who stayed behind and I quickly found a temporary shelter. The wind grew stronger, carrying the rain and beating against us at an angle. It was actually getting cold. The sparrow also flew to the beam at the top of the shelter, shaking its wet feathers. [It’s raining hard! The cave entrance is starting to gush water!] [The woman is crying out, saying she’s cold and wants to leave.] [The man is holding her tighter, saying it’s raining heavily outside and she’ll get sick if they go out. Wait a bit longer.] Ha, how considerate. The rain grew heavier, and the mountain roads quickly became muddy. The squad leader who stayed behind looked at the dark sky in the distance, deeply worried. “With such heavy rain, the mountains are very dangerous. Landslides and mudslides could happen at any time.” “I’ve already notified Mr. Tobias and his group, suggesting they immediately stop the rescue and take shelter nearby.” As soon as he finished speaking, Tobias’s roar came through the walkie-talkie. “Take shelter from what rain! Scared of a little rain, and you call yourselves a rescue team!” “Andrew is still waiting for us to rescue him. Anyone who dares to stop, try it!” “It’s just getting a little wet. No one’s going to die! Everyone keep searching!” The squad leader’s face changed. He shouted into the walkie-talkie: “Mr. Tobias! This is no joke! The mountain could collapse at any time. Everyone will be in danger!” “I’m in danger, my ass!” Tobias cursed on the other end. “If you don’t find Andrew, I’ll make sure none of you get away with it!” The walkie-talkie transmitted some commotion, as if other team members were trying to persuade him. I suppressed the smile on my lips. Tobias, you truly are my good helper. Less than half an hour later, Tobias returned with his team in a sorry state. He and the search and rescue members behind him were all soaked through, covered in mud. Obviously, they found nothing at Lover’s Valley and had been drenched by the rainstorm, looking like drowned rats. Tobias’s face was darker than the bottom of a pot. As soon as he saw me sitting leisurely in the shelter, he flew into a rage. “Didn’t you say they were at Lover’s Valley? Where are they!” He rushed over in a few strides, pointing his finger at my nose and cursing: “Now it’s raining so hard, we’ve wasted the golden rescue time. If anything happens to Andrew, I won’t let you off!” I timidly shrank back, tears flowing at just the right moment. “I… I only said maybe… I didn’t know it would be like this…” “You didn’t know?” Tobias was shivering from the cold. “I think you did it on purpose!” He looked at me, dry and comfortable, then at his soaked self. Suddenly he grabbed my arm. “Stop pretending! You must know other clues! Get up! Take us to find him!” My ankle “timely” sent a sharp pain. I screamed and my whole body went limp. “Ah! My ankle! It hurts so much!” “Let her go!” The rescue captain, who had been silent all along, finally couldn’t bear it anymore. He knocked Tobias’s hand away. “Mr. Tobias! Please calm down! Kristen is injured!” Several young team members also gathered around, glaring at Tobias. “How can you put your hands on a woman?” “Exactly! Her husband is missing, she’s injured herself. She’s miserable enough. What more do you want?” The villagers also started pointing and whispering. “What’s wrong with you? How can you treat her like this?” “Looks decent on the outside, but has such a cruel heart.” Tobias, accused by everyone, turned red and white, but still stubbornly retorted. “What do you all know! This is our family business!” I huddled to the side, watching the people about to break into a fight, with only one thought in my mind. Fight. Fight even louder.

The heavy rain grew fiercer. Seeing it was getting dark soon. The captain feared that rescue would be even more difficult after dark, so he gritted his teeth and decided to risk going up the mountain. Tobias followed the rescue team with a dark face, full of resentment. The search dog led the way, sniffing around with its head down. Soon, it stopped and barked in front of a cluster of bushes. A team member pushed aside the wet branches and picked up a foil wrapper from the muddy ground. “Captain, we found something!” Everyone immediately gathered around. It was a wrapper dirtied by muddy water, but the brand logo on it could still be vaguely seen. It was an expensive imported condom brand. Before I could react, Tobias excitedly called out. “This is Andrew’s!” He snatched the wrapper and examined it from all angles. “That’s right! It’s this brand! Damn, so expensive. I asked him to buy me some and he refused, but he’s generous when it comes to using them himself!” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized what he had said and quickly shut up. But it was too late. Everyone’s eyes became meaningful. Missing, adventure, deep mountains, Lover’s Valley, condoms… When these words were combined together, even an idiot would know what had happened. The rescue captain’s face became extremely ugly. He glared at Tobias and said in a low voice, “Keep searching!” The search dog pulled the rescue personnel step by step in one direction, and at the end of that direction was a pile of dirt and stones. Could this be the cave the sparrow mentioned? Were they about to be rescued? At this critical moment, the sparrow suddenly flew over and let out a sharp screech. [Collapse! Water is flooding in! Half the cave entrance is blocked by mud and rocks!] [They can’t get out! Oh! The man is using a rock to smash at the crack, but it’s useless!] My heart jumped violently. No, I couldn’t let them be discovered now! Half blocked meant there was still a chance to rescue them! Tobias also saw where the search dog was pointing. Like he’d been injected with adrenaline, he excitedly shouted. “Found them! They must be down there!” He yelled at the rescue team, “Quick! Andrew must be inside!” I watched as several team members with shovels had already rushed over.

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On the day the black market organ trafficker stood trial, the judge asked if he felt any remorse. He laughed shamelessly: “Not only do I have no regrets, I’m actually proud.” “If I hadn’t provided that heart, Grant Thornton wouldn’t have been able to save his student Lily Wade, and he never would have won the Medical Progress Award to benefit humanity.” When the judge accused him of killing an innocent person for money, he interrupted: “But that heart came from Grant Thornton’s ex-wife. If he hadn’t destroyed her reputation years ago and driven her out, how could she have ended up in my hands?” “If we’re really talking about murder, he’s the killer! I’m just the delivery man at most!” In an instant, reporters swarmed. Grant Thornton laughed coldly in anger, warning sternly into the camera: “Stella Johnson, wasn’t it enough that you caused Lily’s condition to flare up back then? Now you’re bribing black market dealers to spread lies?” Soon, Grant Thornton brought police and cameras, kicking down the door of our rental apartment. In the dim room, there was no malicious ex-wife as he’d expected, only a little girl huddled in the corner, thin as a skeleton: “Who are you? Where’s Stella Johnson? Got the guts to slander but not the guts to face me?” The girl slowly lifted her head. When she saw Lily casually chewing gum, huge tears fell from her eyes. “Are you looking for my mommy? But her heart—didn’t you already dig it out and give it to that lady?” …

From the mouths of babes, yet it set off a storm in the livestream. Grant Thornton’s expression instantly darkened to the extreme as he laughed coldly. “Stella Johnson, you’re even using a child to lie? Get out here right now and apologize, clear Lily’s name!” I floated in midair, watching the undisguised disgust in his eyes, and laughed bitterly. In his heart, Lily had never been a despicable homewrecker, but a student who needed his protection. As his wife, wanting to get rid of her was deliberate harm. Five years ago, I obtained evidence that Lily had tampered with my thesis and tried to interfere in our marriage. I laid the evidence before Grant Thornton. Right in front of me, he threw all those documents into the shredder. “Stella Johnson, Lily is just a young student. How could you forge these things to destroy her future?” When I couldn’t take it anymore and posted it online, to protect Lily, he shoved me hard onto broken glass. He forced me to issue a public statement admitting I was mentally unstable and had maliciously slandered Lily. I refused through gritted teeth. The next day, he brought people to smash my mother’s tombstone and dig up her ashes. He even threatened to destroy the urn, demanding: “Will you apologize or not?” I trembled all over, and could only kneel in the cold mud and compromise. To let my mother rest in peace, I bowed and apologized at the hospital-wide meeting, admitting I was insane. Grant Thornton piled all the blame on me, then threw down divorce papers, forcing me to leave with nothing. My reputation was destroyed, everyone accused me of being jealous and crazy. I was forced to flee to this remote city, barely scraping by. Until seven days ago, to save enough for my daughter’s medical bills. I chose to work an extra night shift. But I was kidnapped and sold by a gambling client who needed money. After some packaging, I became a kind-hearted donor, forced to give up my heart. I permanently closed my eyes on the operating table. My soul followed the heart back to the country. What I never expected was that the recipient of this heart would be Lily. Not only did Grant Thornton personally perform her surgery, he held my heart and pressed a tender kiss on Lily’s forehead. “From now on, you’ll be whole.” I broke down, I felt hatred. Until I followed Lily and arrived precisely at this rental apartment. I watched her point to her own chest in front of my daughter, revealing a malicious smile. “Your daddy said he’d find me the cleanest heart, but I think only your mommy’s heart is worthy of me.” “So I recommended a trafficking channel to a thug at your mom’s workplace. Then I successfully got this heart.” “You don’t know yet, do you? The one who installed this heart for me was your daddy.” I went crazy trying to strangle her. My hands passed through her neck again and again. But I couldn’t kill her. I was powerless. At this moment, in the living room, Annie clutched the black box tightly in her arms, her small knuckles turning white. “Mommy was taken away by that bad lady, burned to ashes, all here.” Grant Thornton walked back to the living room, his eyes full of contempt. “Even bought an urn as a prop, how unlucky!” He suddenly waved his hand, snatching the black box from Annie’s hands and smashing it hard on the floor. The wooden box shattered into pieces, powder instantly scattered everywhere. “Don’t throw my mommy!” Annie let out a scream, falling to the ground, desperately trying to gather the ashes with her small hands. Those were my ashes. I wanted to rush over and hold my child. My outstretched hands passed straight through her thin shoulders. I had no tears, only felt that empty, bloody hole in my chest beginning to fill with bone-chilling cold wind again. Grant Thornton watched the child’s frantic movements, his brow twitching imperceptibly. If it were fake, would it be necessary to go this far? Lily walked out from behind Grant Thornton, her toes stepping on the pile of ashes, grinding hard. “Don’t be angry. Stella can’t stand you being good to me, so it’s normal for her to use pet dog ashes to disgust people.” She pulled out a photo showing a golden retriever with Annie. Three years ago, Annie was diagnosed with a severe genetic disease. Her immune system was weak, she couldn’t be exposed to furry pets at all. That photo was just randomly taken by a nurse when she was getting tested at the hospital. “Stella must hate me to death now. I’d rather not have this heart than have you become like this because of me.” Grant Thornton grasped her wrist in return, his voice softening. “This heart came from an overseas medical assistance program, it has nothing to do with Stella Johnson. Stella Johnson truly hasn’t changed, full of schemes!” The livestream comments were scrolling frantically, Grant Thornton’s eyes swept over them. [Wait, those aren’t pet dog ashes, right? That angel dog in the photo was still sunbathing on the city hospital lawn this morning!] His gaze froze for a moment.

[If it’s not the dog’s, then the kid is crying like that, could it really be her mother’s?] Staring at the pile of gray-white powder on the ground, a trace of irritation crept across Grant Thornton’s brow. He looked away. “Stella Johnson got dead person’s ashes from somewhere to make it realistic. That’s the kind of person she is, capable of anything.” Annie lifted her head, her eyes locked on the foot Lily had planted in the ashes. She suddenly lunged forward, biting down hard on Lily’s calf. “Don’t step on my mommy! You’re all bad people! Give my mommy’s heart back!” Lily cried out in pain, kicking Annie away with one foot. The four-year-old’s body was light as a feather, slamming hard into the corner of the coffee table. Her forehead instantly split open in a long gash, blood covering her face. “My daughter!” I rushed to shield Annie like a madwoman, but could only watch as the crimson blood dripped onto the floor, soaking into the carpet. Grant Thornton didn’t even glance at his daughter. He crouched down, rolling up Lily’s pant leg to examine the bite mark. “Is this little bastard a dog? Is this how Stella Johnson normally raises her?” “Grant, I’m fine, it just hurts a little…” Lily leaned into his arms. “Did Stella teach her a lot of things to make her hate me? I’m a little scared…” “I’m here. I’d like to see who dares touch you.” Grant Thornton’s eyes were fierce as he looked up at the camera and said coldly. “Stella Johnson, I will pursue this despicable behavior of using a child to hurt people to the end!” Watching him make threats, I remembered when I was sixteen, when several upperclassmen cornered me in an alley. Grant Thornton rushed out with half a brick, blocking them in front of me. His face was covered in blood, grabbing my hand and trembling. “Stella, I’ll protect you forever.” Now, he was indeed protecting someone. Only the person being protected was no longer me. I felt such hatred. Why make a promise of forever, then fail to keep it and harm my child? The police outside rushed in directly. The lead female officer’s face was ashen as she scooped up Annie, blood covering her face. “Call an ambulance!” Another officer walked up to Grant Thornton. “Mr. Thornton, regarding the black market organ trafficking case, please come with us to the station for questioning.” “Fine. But my fiancée just had heart transplant surgery and has been frightened. I need to settle her first.” He took Lily’s hand and walked out of the messy rental apartment. Police station interrogation room. Grant Thornton sat in the chair, looking calm. “My donor was a kind person found through an overseas assistance program. Everything was legal, nothing to do with the black market. Stella Johnson’s report is just her venting personal grievances.” Before the officer across from him could speak, the interrogation room door was pushed open forcefully. The female officer who had taken Annie to the hospital called. “That little girl has a very deep forehead wound, now she’s in critical condition from excessive blood loss.” “She has RH negative AB blood type, a very rare type. The hospital blood bank has no supply!” “We checked the system and found that Mr. Thornton has this rare blood type.” Grant Thornton’s movements froze. He lifted his eyelids. a very rare type? An extremely rare hereditary blood type—how could she have the same blood type as him?

“Have him come to the hospital immediately for a transfusion!” I floated in midair, nodding desperately. Go! That’s your flesh and blood! Your daughter! But Grant Thornton suddenly laughed coldly, refusing without hesitation. “Officer, whatever bastard Stella Johnson found somewhere just happens to have my blood type.” “I’ve been cooperating with the investigation. I’m tired now. I’m not going.” The female officer became anxious. “That’s a human life!” Grant Thornton leaned back in his chair. “Her life has nothing to do with me.” The female officer’s expression changed, her voice tinged with anger. “Mr. Thornton, a life is at stake. If you’re willing to donate blood, we can send you there by car, and you can continue the investigation after the transfusion. I’m begging you.” Grant Thornton covered his chest and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.” The police car raced toward the city center hospital with sirens blaring. I stood in the vehicle, watching the scenery flying past the window. Annie, wait, just wait a little longer. Mommy’s bringing someone to save you. The car screeched to a halt at the emergency building entrance. Grant Thornton pushed open the door and strode inside. Lily suddenly emerged from the hallway. She wore an oversized hospital gown, her face deathly pale, throwing herself into Grant Thornton’s arms. “Grant! My chest hurts so much! Am I having a rejection reaction?” Grant Thornton’s footsteps stopped dead. He immediately held Lily, urgently shouting at the nurses’ station: “Get a gurney! Call the cardiothoracic director down here now!” The female officer ran out of the emergency room. “Where’s Mr. Thornton? The child can’t hold on! Her blood pressure has dropped to thirty!” Grant Thornton held Lily, not looking back. “Can’t you see she’s having heart rejection!” “Stella Johnson created this karma, let her repay it herself! If she hadn’t deliberately framed us, how could Lily have ended up like this?” The female officer rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “Save that child first!” Grant Thornton forcefully shook off the female officer’s hand. “Fuck off!” In the livestream that had never been turned off, the comments had completely exploded. [Is this guy insane? The mistress kicked the child and caused such a huge gash, and now he’s protecting the perpetrator?] [This couple is truly disgusting. He really thinks he’s protecting some innocent patient.] Grant Thornton glanced at the dense stream of curses on the screen, his face darkening to the extreme. He continued to protectively hold Lily, righteously warning the camera: “You don’t understand anything! Lily is the victim of Stella Johnson’s schemes!” At that moment, several officers arrived. The lead officer pulled out handcuffs, directly restraining Lily on the gurney. “Lily Wade, you’re under arrest for intentionally causing serious injury to a child!” Lily trembled all over, screaming in terror: “Grant! Save me! I didn’t hurt her, the kid ran into me herself!” Grant Thornton flew into a rage, shielding Lily behind him. “Are you crazy! She’s a patient who just had a heart transplant! This is all Stella Johnson’s conspiracy, she deliberately had that bastard stage this to frame Lily!” The police showed no compromise. “The suspect must come with us immediately! Mr. Thornton, please don’t obstruct official business!” Grant Thornton watched helplessly as Lily was forcibly taken into the elevator, unable to stop it, his chest heaving violently in anger. He turned and ran right into the female officer. “I’ll give her the transfusion. I hope when she’s fine, you’ll release Lily!” But the female officer glared at him. “No need for a transfusion! The child is dead!”

My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground. In that instant, my soul felt torn into countless fragments. My Annie was dead. She was only four years old. She hadn’t even worn the new dress I bought her yet. He twisted the corners of his mouth, letting out a short, cold snort. “Dead?” “Good riddance. Stella Johnson has one less bargaining chip for her frame-up.” The next second, I lunged at Grant Thornton in a frenzy. My hands clamped around his neck, wanting to tear him apart on the spot. But my hands passed through his body again and again, unable to touch him at all. Hearing the news of death over the radio, the officer’s face changed dramatically, immediately issuing an order: “The victim is dead. Change suspect Lily Wade’s charge to intentional homicide. Take her into custody immediately!” Hearing the words “intentional homicide,” Grant Thornton’s eyes filled with viciousness. He stared deadly at the emergency room, cursing through gritted teeth. “Stella Johnson, you’re ruthless enough. To frame Lily, you’d even kill the bargaining chip you found yourself.” “You think hiding behind the scenes pulling these stunts will succeed?” He pulled out his phone and made a call on the spot. “Investigate! Check that black market dealer’s account transactions! Track down Stella Johnson!” “I’m going to personally drag out this mastermind and make her kneel before the police and admit that all of this was her scheme to harm people!” He pulled out his phone and opened a conversation window that hadn’t been touched in five years. His fingertips pounded the screen forcefully. “Stella Johnson, your bastard is dead.” “This is what you get for causing trouble.” “Come back right now and apologize to Lily, issue a settlement agreement, or I won’t even let you take that bastard’s corpse.” Message sent. A red exclamation mark popped up. Five years ago, I had blocked him. Irritated, he switched to the text message interface and resent it. I stood right in front of him, watching him type these words. Watching him use the cruelest vocabulary to announce the death of his own flesh and blood. Grant Thornton returned to the police station. The underground black market dealer was restrained in the interrogation chair. Seeing Grant Thornton enter, the dealer whistled. “Dr. Thornton, back from playing nurse to your mistress?” Grant Thornton’s eyes were icy as he braced both hands on the table. “Cut the crap. How much did Stella Johnson pay you to recite this testimony?” The dealer leaned back his head and laughed. “Dr. Thornton, do you really think that was an overseas donor?” “When we tied that woman to the operating table, she kept crying and begging.” “She begged us to give her some anesthesia. She said she had a sick daughter, she couldn’t die.” The dealer leaned close to the table, lowering his voice. “She begged us to give her anesthesia. But the client ordered that anesthesia would affect the heart’s vitality, bad for the recipient.” “So we held her down hard on the table. Four people holding down her limbs. We split her chest open alive.” “That woman’s vocal cords were torn, the pain made her whole body convulse. Blood sprayed everywhere in the room.” The moment the dealer spoke, the pain seemed to cross the boundary of life and death, sweeping over me again. I clutched my empty chest, curling into a ball in midair, screaming. But no one could hear me. “Oh, right.” The dealer tilted his head thoughtfully, his smile widening. “Below her left ribs, there was a very deep burn scar. When we made the incision, we just happened to avoid that spot.” That scar was from when I was twenty, when the rental house caught fire. I was burned by a red-hot iron frame protecting his experimental data. The dealer looked at Grant Thornton and continued twisting the knife. “With her last breath, she was calling a name.” “She kept calling: Grant, save me.” In the moment of dying, I did call for Grant. That nickname that no one in this world except eighteen-year-old Stella Johnson would use. At that time, the pain left me mentally confused. I thought the boy who vowed at eighteen to protect me forever would take me home like before. But my Grant had died five years ago. Grant Thornton seemed to hear the most absurd joke, scoffing as if he’d seen through everything. “Stop your nonsense!” “Even knowing about that burn scar—to drag Lily down, she really planned out every detail!” The interrogation room door was suddenly pushed open. The female officer from before walked in. She walked up to Grant Thornton and slammed the report in her hand heavily on the table. One was a heart source DNA comparison report. One was a paternity test certificate between the deceased and Grant Thornton. The female officer looked at him, her eyes full of anger and disgust. “Grant Thornton.” “The heart beating in Lily Wade’s chest is indeed your ex-wife Stella Johnson’s heart.” “And the girl who just died in the hospital because you refused to donate blood. She was your biological daughter.”

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The night before my wedding, I was kidnapped and tortured for three days. When I was finally rescued, my fiancé had already married someone else. In my despair, Vincent stayed by my side and married me. For three years of marriage, I thought he was my salvation. But on our anniversary, I overheard his conversation with friends. “Vincent, are you really never going to tell Elara the truth?” “Why would I? Isn’t everything fine as it is? Sienna likes Elara’s fiancé, so I had to help Sienna get him. As for Elara, I’ll treat her well.” “You’re really something, Vincent! Three years ago, you had her kidnapped, made her infertile, and now she’s still grateful to you!” The cake in my hands fell to the floor. So the person who ruined my life had been by my side all along… “What was that sound? Is someone outside?” Footsteps from inside the private room drew closer. I instinctively retreated several steps and hid behind a pillar. The person who opened the door looked left and right but didn’t notice the cake on the floor before retreating back inside. The surroundings were noisy, yet all I could hear was my heart pounding violently in my chest. My ears rang as Vincent’s voice echoed endlessly in my mind. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from Vincent. [Sorry Elara, I’m still in a meeting. I’ll have to come home late today.] [Don’t wait up for me, just get some rest. When things settle down, I’ll take you on a trip to make up for it, okay?] Vincent’s tone was as gentle as always. He was busy with work and often missed our anniversaries and Valentine’s Day. But he always compensated me afterward. He complied with almost all my requests. I had reflected more than once that fate had been somewhat merciful to me. Although I experienced that terrible incident before my wedding, at least I met Vincent. I met someone in this world who truly cared about me. He picked up my broken pieces one by one, carefully protecting me, using tenderness and love to open my heart. But only now did I realize how laughable everything I believed had been. Before I could reply to Vincent’s message, I caught sight of a familiar figure approaching from the corner of my eye. Instinctively, I turned my head and let my long hair cover my face, but I could still see who it was. Sienna, my own sister. She got lost as a child and only returned home at eighteen, deeply cherished by our parents. Three years ago, the night before my wedding, I was kidnapped and humiliated. After being rescued, the first news I learned was that she had married my fiancé, Ethan. Those were the darkest days of my life. Sienna knelt by my hospital bed, crying and begging me to forgive her. Ethan held my hand, begging me to fulfill their love. Mom and Dad frowned at me, blaming me for everything that happened. Ethan and I grew up together. For over twenty years, I had dreamed of becoming his wife. But in just three days, everything changed. “Hey, Sienna’s here! Beautiful as always.” The man’s compliment snapped me back to attention. I walked to the door again and listened carefully to what was happening inside. Sienna laughed. “Still so smooth-tongued after just a few days.” “No wonder so many young women fall for you.” Sienna’s tone sounded very familiar. I couldn’t help but think that in the three years we’d been married, I still knew nothing about Vincent’s friends. He always said his friends weren’t easy to get along with. That he worried I might remember the past. I thought he was thinking of me. But I forgot—if Vincent truly loved me, how could he allow his friends to slander me? My nails dug into my palms as I listened to the laughter inside the private room. I caught Vincent’s voice among them. “Coming out this late, won’t Ethan worry?” “Don’t worry, he’s been busy with work lately. He hasn’t even left the office yet.” “Vincent, I’m here because of something else…” Through the gap, I saw Sienna sitting next to Vincent, her hand resting on his thigh. Vincent had mild germaphobia. Even at home, he only let me handle his personal clothing. But now, facing Sienna’s intimacy, he showed no sign of displeasure. “What is it? Whatever you ask, I’ll agree to it.” “Ethan and I have been married for three years, but I still haven’t gotten pregnant… He’s been much colder to me lately. Vincent, I want a child. Can you give me one?”

Sienna’s words nearly made me cry out. But I covered my mouth and stared intently at Vincent’s face. Even at this moment, I still hoped he would refuse. That he would maintain one last shred of decency for the sake of our three-year relationship. But on Vincent’s face, I saw shock and panic, but no anger or condemnation. In that instant, I already understood Vincent’s choice. My heart, which had been raised high, fell back to its place. I turned and walked outside. Like a soulless corpse. What kept appearing in my mind were only scenes from three years ago. Actually, I had forgotten most of the memories from those three days of captivity. The doctor said my body had abandoned some memories for self-protection. But what I dreamed of every night was only the scene of Vincent kicking open the iron door and rescuing me. Behind him was the sunlight I hadn’t seen in three days. Vincent in his suit walked toward me step by step, his eyes full of worry and heartache. Then he knelt down and held me in his arms. The last words I heard before losing consciousness were his trembling voice. “It’s okay now, Elara.” “It’s okay now…” Later, when Vincent proposed to me, videos of my abuse were all over the internet. Everyone avoided me. Only he walked against the crowd and knelt before me. He said, Elara, marry me. I will never let you suffer for the rest of your life. He said, Elara, trust me. I’ll take good care of you forever. But in the end. Ethan lied to me. And so did he. By the time I got home, it was already dawn. Vincent still hadn’t returned. My unanswered messages had no follow-up. I sat on the bed, staring blankly at the wedding photo hanging on the wall. In the photo, I was skin and bones with vacant eyes, but Vincent looked at me as if I were a rare treasure. These three years, Vincent had indeed taken good care of me. He helped me, someone who only dared hide at home, to willingly go out and see people. But what I thought was salvation was actually an even deeper abyss… My phone vibrated again. Another message from Vincent. [Elara, I’m sorry, I can’t make it back tonight. When you wake up tomorrow, I promise I’ll make it up to you.] Before I could react, another message appeared. From Sienna. [Elara, I know you were outside just now. I saw you.] [How does it feel watching your husband sitting with me, laughing and talking?] [I could steal one person from you, and I can steal the last one too.] [Elara, in the end, everything you have belongs to me.] Along with Sienna’s message came a photo. A hotel’s pure white bed. On the floor beside it was Vincent’s jacket. My heart suddenly seized with sharp pain. Sienna hated me. I didn’t know the reason before. But now, I didn’t want to know anymore. I closed my eyes as tears slid down from the corners. I pulled at the corners of my mouth in a bitter smile. Three years ago, Mom and Dad abandoned me because of my reputation. I didn’t cling to them and left. Three years later, Vincent cheated with someone else. I wouldn’t cling to him either. Things that don’t belong to me—I don’t want them anymore. I got up, took down the wedding photo from the wall, viciously cut it to pieces with scissors, then threw it in the trash can by the door. I carefully took screenshots of all the messages Sienna sent me and saved them to my photo album. Leaving was certain. But I couldn’t just leave like this.

Vincent didn’t come home until noon the next day. When he saw me, he immediately walked forward to hold me in his arms. “Sorry, Elara. Yesterday was my fault.” Up close, I could even smell the strong perfume on him. And the obvious kiss marks on his neck. I turned away, avoiding Vincent’s gesture, and said softly, “You smell like alcohol. Go take a shower.” Vincent paused, then laughed. “Okay, okay, I’m bothering Elara. My fault.” “Here, this is your anniversary gift. See if you like it.” Vincent pulled out a box from his pocket containing a ruby ring. Since we got married, he often gave me gifts. I often told him he was wasteful. But Vincent said giving his wife gifts was his duty as a husband. Looking back now, perhaps it wasn’t just duty, but also an element of atonement. I forced a smile and accepted the gift. “Thank you. I love it.” “No need to thank me.” “Oh, Elara, today… Mr. Hartwell is hosting a charity gala. Will you come with me?” Vincent looked at me with some concern, worried that this would remind me of bad memories. In my memory, Mom and Dad used to love me dearly. Until the kidnapping three years ago, which made me see the truth. What they loved was the praised Miss Hartwell. Not the flawed Elara. “Okay.” Hearing my answer, Vincent let out a long breath and patted my head. “I knew it. My Elara is the strongest person.” While Vincent was showering, I secretly took his phone from the table. Vincent told me his phone password on our first day of marriage. But in these three years, I trusted him too much and never looked at it once. I didn’t know that for these three years, he had never stopped contacting Sienna. I scrolled through their chat records page by page, not missing a single sentence, and photographed them all. Due to time constraints, I didn’t examine the meaning of each sentence. Just before the water stopped, I put the phone back. Vincent noticed the missing wedding photo, but I brushed it off saying the photo accidentally fell. He didn’t ask further, only saying we’d take better photos together later. I looked at Vincent’s smile, but my heart couldn’t help feeling sour. Later? How much time did we have left? I hadn’t attended such a gala in three years. The moment I appeared on Vincent’s arm, I felt many eyes on me. Some pitying, some curious, some gossiping and mocking. Vincent patted the back of my hand and said softly: “Don’t be afraid, Elara. I’m here.” I looked at his profile, wondering at that moment what he was thinking when he, as the mastermind, said such things. “Elara, Vincent, you’re finally here.” “Elara, I haven’t seen you in so long.” Sienna walked over holding Ethan’s hand. Ethan looked at me with some embarrassment, but I only glanced at him once before looking away. Sienna smiled. “Since getting married, you rarely go out.” “Are you still worried about what happened three years ago?” “After all, what happened wasn’t your fault. You were the victim too. You don’t need to be so cautious.” With seemingly innocent words, Sienna instantly tore through the protective membrane I had wrapped around myself. Vincent’s body stiffened for a moment. Ethan tugged at Sienna’s arm, signaling her to stop. But Sienna continued softly: “Or are you still bothered by the fact that Ethan and I got married three years ago?”

Sienna’s words dropped like a bomb into the crowd. “Is that the eldest Hartwell daughter from three years ago? How does she have the nerve to come to a gala?” “Exactly! If I were her, I would’ve been crying at home!” “I heard after that incident, not only did her fiancé not want her, even her parents cut ties with her.” “I think in the end Mr. Sawyer married her. Tsk tsk, what a sucker.” “Mr. Sawyer is just too nice. Not only did he rescue her, but he was willing to take on this hot potato. Unbelievable.” The surrounding gossip came one sentence after another. The smugness in Sienna’s eyes grew more obvious, as if waiting to see me unable to accept this and cry in breakdown. But she was destined not to see it. I had broken down many times over this matter. But I wasn’t the one in the wrong. The person who should break down, who should suffer, wasn’t me either. Why should all the mistakes, all the pain, be borne by me? “I stopped caring a long time ago.” “Someone who can easily abandon his fiancée will probably abandon his wife just as easily in the future.” “I should thank you for being generous enough to take on secondhand goods.” The moment my words fell, the noise instantly disappeared. Sienna and the other two looked at me in shock. After all, this was the first time I had said something so sharp. From a distance came a cold snort. “Married to a rich man, and now you’ve got the confidence to talk back. Elara, you’re really heartless. Three years and you haven’t come home to see us once.” Mom and Dad walked over shoulder to shoulder, standing beside Sienna. Father frowned at me and said coldly: “Is this how we taught you to speak to your sister?” “Apologize to Sienna right now!” Sienna raised her chin slightly to look at me, her eyes full of smugness. Vincent blocked me, saying softly: “Elara hasn’t attended a gala in a long time. She just misspoke. I apologize on her behalf.” Vincent’s action seemed kind. But it firmly nailed me to the position of being in the wrong. Frankly speaking, he never thought I was innocent. Whether three years ago or now, it was all the same. This farce ended with Vincent’s apology. He followed behind Mom and Dad with Ethan, chatting with guests about work. I found it boring and got up to go to the restroom on the second floor. But when I came out, Sienna blocked my way. Half her face was hidden in darkness, unclear. But I could hear the mockery and contempt in her tone. “Elara, I didn’t expect that after three years, you’re still so pitiful.” “Mom and Dad didn’t want you back then, and now even your husband doesn’t stand by your side.” I pressed my lips together and said coldly: “Sienna, I never offended you.” “So what? I’m going to take everything that belongs to you.” “Elara, everything you have belongs to me.” “Ethan is mine, and Vincent can only belong to me.” After dropping this final sentence, Sienna leaned against the railing. A crisp sound rang out as her body flew out like a butterfly. A second later, she fell heavily to the ground. Amid screams, I locked eyes with Vincent downstairs…

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Elena’s first love, Marcus Blackwood, came back. I heard he was a ruthless gang member who killed without batting an eye. Terrified of being silenced, I fled overnight with my daughter. Over the past eight years, Elena was busy holding a grand wedding with Marcus, traveling the world together, and attending various events. They became the enviable power couple everyone admired. But they never had children. Meanwhile, I struggled to make ends meet, working seven jobs a day, scrimping and saving every penny for my daughter’s medical expenses. I became the laughingstock everyone mocked—a cheapskate. In the ninth year, I was working as a server at an important event. While pouring wine for a guest, I accidentally bumped right into Elena. She stared at me in shock, her voice trembling. “Nathan. Where have you been all these years? Our daughter—is she still alive?” Eight years had passed. Elena remained as coldly beautiful as ever, while I stood frozen in place, momentarily speechless. “You blind bastard! How dare you bump into Miss Winters! You must have a death wish! Get on your knees and apologize!” The event manager rushed over and slapped me across the face. “I’m sorry, Miss Winters. I didn’t mean to dirty your clothes.” I quickly apologized. Just as I was about to kneel, Elena suddenly spoke. “Forget it.” She frowned and glanced at me, then added, “If someone tells you to kneel, you just kneel? Don’t you have any dignity left? Living this pathetically—you might as well be dead.” Dignity? I’d stopped caring about that long ago. I still remembered the first time I knelt—when my daughter Piper had a fever and I had no money. I knelt at the clinic entrance. Later, I knelt to beg for jobs, to demand unpaid wages, when bullied by thugs… I’d knelt so many times I’d become numb to it. As long as I could stay alive and Piper was doing well, that was enough. But I didn’t tell Elena any of this. I forced an ugly smile, thanked her, and turned to leave. “Mr. Blackwood is here!” At that moment, the crowd suddenly stirred with excitement. I turned to look, my pupils constricting slightly. I deeply regretted accepting this event gig. From the scar on his face, I could confirm it was Elena’s first love, Marcus Blackwood. When he’d returned to the country years ago, he’d threatened to chop me into mincemeat and feed me to the dogs, to strangle my daughter. Afraid of being discovered, I quickly ducked into the crowd and headed straight for the break room to hide. Buzz buzz! Just then, my phone vibrated. The private hospital was calling. “Mr. Anderson.” “We currently have a donor whose heart matches your daughter, but there’s another competing recipient.” “The other party has money and influence. I can stall for one hour at most. If you can’t get here and pay within that time, you’ll have to wait for the next opportunity.” I was ecstatic. “Within one hour, I’ll definitely come pay and sign the papers!” After hanging up, I immediately called a loan shark to borrow money at high interest. The entire heart transplant surgery would cost at least two million dollars. I didn’t have enough money, but if I waited for next time, who knew when that would be—or if my daughter could even hold on that long. So I’d rather sell my body, sell my blood… anything to seize this chance. Once the loan came through, I was about to leave when the event manager blocked me at the door. “Mr. Blackwood’s wedding ring is missing.” “All employees must go to the main hall for inspection.” I said I’d been at least thirty feet away from Marcus when I saw him earlier, so it definitely wasn’t me. Plus, I urgently needed to get to the hospital. But the manager wouldn’t listen at all. He had security drag me to the main hall. I hid in the back row, trying hard to keep my head down, terrified Marcus would recognize me. “Whoever stole my wedding ring, step forward now! I’ll spare your life. Otherwise, don’t blame me for throwing you in the river to feed the fish!” Marcus’s cold eyes swept over everyone. “Last row, fifth from the right—lift your head!”

My heart sank. I broke out in a cold sweat all over, still refusing to lift my head. “He’s talking to you, idiot!” The manager forcibly lifted my chin, and I found myself staring directly at Marcus. “It’s you.” Marcus narrowed his eyes slightly and walked toward me step by step. “You stole my wedding ring, didn’t you?” He questioned coldly. “No!” I shook my head frantically. “Today’s the first time I’ve seen you.” Everyone knew Marcus was ruthless and didn’t value human life. To eliminate rivals, he’d use any means necessary. From his demeanor, was he trying to make me the scapegoat? “Marcus.” “It probably isn’t him, right?” Elena glanced at me, a mocking smile on her lips. “When you came back, he fled overnight. How would he dare steal your ring?” She seemed to be blaming me for being a coward. I didn’t understand how she had the nerve. The whole room erupted. Countless people cast contemptuous looks my way. “From what she’s saying, is he Mr. Blackwood’s former stand-in?” “A stand-in is just a stand-in. Miles away from the real deal. Look how pathetic he is now—can only work as a server.” “If he didn’t have a face that looked like Mr. Blackwood’s, he wouldn’t have enjoyed those few good years. He should be grateful.” Mocking voices poured down like a torrential rain. I thought this might help me escape punishment. But Marcus clearly had no intention of letting me go. With a playful smile, he said, “But this morning when I was changing and showering upstairs, I clearly saw him delivering clothes.” “Though at the time I thought I’d seen wrong, so I didn’t pay attention.” Hearing this, Elena’s delicate brows immediately furrowed. She said coldly, “Nathan Anderson, I didn’t expect it really was you. Hurry up and hand over the wedding ring.” Eight years ago, I’d fled with my daughter not just because I feared Marcus, but because I was afraid Elena would be biased and believe only him. I hadn’t expected it to play out exactly as I’d feared. “You’re lying! I didn’t arrive at the event until noon!” I argued my case, casting pleading looks at the manager and my coworkers. “Please help clear my name. I need to get to the hospital. I’ll come thank you properly later.” But everyone remained uniformly silent. Marcus coughed lightly. “Speak up. Why are you all standing there? Anyone who dares lie, I’ll sew their mouth shut with a needle!” Everyone shuddered. The manager’s eyes darted around, then he pointed at me. “Don’t drag us down with you. You clearly came this morning.” “That’s right!” One coworker also stepped forward. “I saw Nathan Anderson enter Mr. Blackwood’s room with my own eyes this morning.” “You people…” I was utterly desperate, my eyes nearly red with anger. Clearly. They were deliberately framing me, wanting to use me as a stepping stone to curry favor with Marcus. “Someone!” “Search him! Strip off all his clothes!” The manager waved his hand, then flashed a fawning smile at Marcus. “Mr. Blackwood, rest assured, I’ll get to the bottom of this. No mercy.” Two security guards pinned me to the ground. I tried to resist but was held down by my head. Several more guards arrived and began tearing at my clothes in front of everyone. Though I’d knelt plenty over these years and taken many beatings, I’d never been humiliated like this. Shame flooded my heart. The key issue was that this entanglement would waste so much time. Who knew when it would be resolved. It would delay me getting to the hospital to pay! That concerned my daughter’s life! Forced into a corner, I looked at Elena. “It really wasn’t me!” “You have to believe me!” “In the eight years we were together, when did I ever take anything from the Winters family? When did I ever ask you for a single dollar?”

I believed Elena understood my character. But she said, “People change. You no longer have the backbone you once had. When told to kneel, you just kneel.” I was so angry I wanted to laugh. Did she really think I’d changed, or was she simply believing her first love Marcus’s words? Within a few breaths, my clothes were stripped off, my skeletal frame exposed to everyone’s view. “Hahaha, this is hilarious. Look at him—skinny as a monkey and ugly too.” “So disgusting. So revolting.” “How did someone like this ever qualify to be Mr. Blackwood’s stand-in? I really don’t know what Miss Winters was thinking.” Mocking laughter continued. Elena’s face showed her discomfort. She frowned even more deeply, looking at me with disappointment and disgust. After all, back then I’d worked out every day, extremely disciplined! Elena used to touch my eight-pack abs every day. When she was unhappy, she’d rest against my chest muscles to relax. She said I was so masculine. She said no matter what, she wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt me or slander me. Compared to this moment, how ironic. Marcus took my phone and used facial recognition to unlock it, then rummaged through it carelessly. “Oh?” “You actually borrowed a million dollars from loan sharks? Looks like you’re desperate for money. That’s another reason to steal the ring.” “Besides revenge against me, you could also sell it for money, right?” Marcus displayed the loan message for everyone at the scene to see. This prompted another round of mockery. Elena’s eyes filled with more disappointment. She shook her head and sighed, “I actually still held onto a shred of hope, thinking that under your care, our daughter might still be alive.” “How foolish of me.” “Someone as depraved as you—how could you care whether our daughter lives or dies?” Seeing her act this way. I couldn’t help but say, “Then let me ask you—when our daughter was first diagnosed, where were you?” “Shut up! Say another word and I’ll knock your teeth out!” Marcus glared at me, then turned to comfort Elena. “Honey, don’t be sad. As long as we keep trying IVF, we’ll definitely have our own child.” Elena didn’t respond, just looked at me with complex emotions, as if recalling scenes from eight years ago. But I only wanted to say two words: karma! Eight years ago. Piper was seriously ill and hospitalized, and Marcus was returning to the country. So Elena devoted all her attention to Marcus, personally arranging welcome banquets and various events. I hoped she’d use her resources to find a heart donor for Piper and complete the surgery before Marcus returned. But I called her a hundred times. She only answered once, dropping three words: “Stop bothering me!” That’s when I finally made up my mind to run away with Piper. “Anyway, I didn’t steal the wedding ring. If you don’t believe me, let’s call the police.” I gritted my teeth. “Call the police? Absolutely not!” Marcus’s expression turned cold. “Why would I need the police for such a small matter? I’d lose face. If you don’t hand over the wedding ring today, you’re not leaving. I’ll cripple one of your hands first for fun.” He pulled out a knife and aimed it at my right hand. “Marcus!” Elena frowned. “That’s enough. Don’t go too far. It won’t look good if word gets out.” Marcus shrugged reluctantly and put away the knife. “Someone! Tie him to that pillar!” At his command. The manager personally dragged me toward a pillar. “You have no solid evidence, and no right to restrict my freedom.” “Let me go!” I struggled desperately, but I was outnumbered and couldn’t break free. I could only look at Elena again. “For the sake of our past relationship.” “Help me this once. Trust me just this once, okay?” “There’s only half an hour left. If I can’t get there in time, you’ll definitely regret it!”

Elena froze, confusion flashing in her eyes. “Why do you need to go to the hospital? Who’s sick?” “Hmph, who else? His girlfriend, of course.” Marcus sneered. “Elena, don’t listen to his emotional manipulation. He just wants to run away with his girlfriend.” Hearing the word “girlfriend,” Elena’s face instantly turned cold, resentment surging in her eyes. Seeing this, I knew I had to tell the truth. “Elena.” “Listen carefully. The sick person is your own daughter, Piper!” “If I don’t pay within half an hour, the heart donor will go to someone else!” What? Elena’s eyes widened. She pushed Marcus aside and ran to me in three quick steps. “Piper’s still alive?” “You’re not lying to me?” Her face was full of excitement. “I’m not lying.” I took a deep breath. “If you don’t believe me, my phone has photos of Piper and me, plus photos of her medical records.” Elena quickly turned and snatched the phone from Marcus, frantically scrolling through the screen. But the light in her eyes gradually changed from hopeful excitement to disappointment. “There’s not a single photo on the phone. You’re lying to me!” She clenched her fists in anger. “That’s impossible. There were definitely…” I frowned, about to explain, when I caught the mocking smile on Marcus’s lips. I immediately understood. Marcus must have just formatted my photo gallery. That’s why Elena couldn’t find anything. This Marcus was truly cunning and vicious, stopping at nothing to achieve his goals. “Honey.” “I told you, this Nathan Anderson is full of lies and can’t be trusted.” Marcus patted Elena’s shoulder. “I’m not lying!” “Piper really is still alive!” I shouted loudly. Marcus frowned and gave the event manager a look. The manager understood. He raised his hand and slapped me. “Still making excuses?” “Hand over the wedding ring now! Or don’t blame us for not holding back.” The security guards behind me laughed menacingly. “I didn’t steal the ring. How can I hand it over? Let me go…” “Stubborn fool. Beat him!” The manager led the assault, raining punches and kicks on me. Tied to the pillar, I couldn’t protect myself, couldn’t fight back, couldn’t dodge. Fists fell on my face like a rainstorm. After several rounds. I was beaten bloody, my ears ringing, excruciating pain spreading throughout my body. “I’m not a thief, I’m not…” I weakly looked at Elena through blurred vision. “Piper really is still alive. You don’t have to let me go, but you must go to the hospital and pay.” “I’m begging you… she’s our daughter. Please…” As I spoke, I began crying in desperation. Elena’s expression showed a flicker of emotion. Before she could speak, Marcus pointed at my nose and cursed, “You’re such a bastard! To escape punishment, you’d even exploit your dead daughter.” Hearing this, Elena’s expression turned cold again, as if she wished I were dead. “I didn’t! I really didn’t! I can swear… there’s only fifteen minutes left! We’re really running out of time!” My whole body trembled as I choked out the words. “Still acting?” Marcus narrowed his eyes, raised the knife again, and slowly walked toward me. “I’ll pry out two of your front teeth. Let’s see if you tell the truth then!” I kept staring at Elena. But this time she chose silence. Marcus raised the knife toward my mouth.

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My wife is a glitch in the universe. She was supposed to be the lead in someone else’s story, destined to fall for the golden boy, the hero, the man who has everything. But the moment she arrived in my world, she chose me instead—the hero’s best friend. We weren’t supposed to happen. And the “Narrative”—that cold, invisible force that governs her life—didn’t take kindly to being rewritten. To tear us apart, it orchestrated a car wreck that should have killed me. I survived, but only just. I walked away with third-degree burns that turned my face into a topographical map of scars, a shattered spine that left me tethered to a wheelchair, and the indignity of a catheter bag. I became a ghost inhabiting a broken shell. But Noelle’s love didn’t waver. Not at first. When the tragedy failed to break her, the Narrative went after her world. It stripped her of her career, her savings, her reputation. She went from a rising star to absolute rock bottom. Without money, she became my sole caretaker. During our darkest month, she lived on a single loaf of bread for three days just so she could afford the three-hundred-dollar bags of specialized IV nutrients I needed to keep my muscles from wasting away. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t be the anchor that drowned her. So, I tried to end it. When the paramedics brought me back, she collapsed over my chest, sobbing so hard I thought her lungs might give out. “Jude,” she gasped through the tears, “I can’t do this without you. If you go, I’m going with you. Do you hear me? I’ll follow you into the dark.” For her, I tried. I threw myself into physical therapy, but my body was a locked room with no key. Still, I nursed a tiny, pathetic ember of hope that maybe, one day, I’d be enough for her again. Until today. Beckett, the man she was “destined” to be with, came to visit. In my agitation, I accidentally took a few extra doses of my nerve blockers. Noelle didn’t just worry. She snapped. Something inside her finally fractured. She grabbed the bottle of pills and began forcing them into my mouth, her eyes wild and unrecognizable. “I told you!” she screamed, shoving the tablets past my teeth. “I told you there’s nothing between us anymore! Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep making me pay?” She shook me, her voice cracking into a jagged edge. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be living in this hellhole! I wouldn’t have lost everything! You want to die so bad? Fine! Fucking die then!” She dumped the rest of the bottle into my lap, slammed the door, and vanished. That’s when the Voice—the cold, mechanical hum of her “System”—spoke in my mind. It told me that Noelle had finally realized her mistake. It told me she was falling back in love with Beckett. It asked if I was willing to die to set them both free. I stared at the closed door and whispered, “Yes.” … The Voice was silent for a few heartbeats. Then, it buzzed: “I’m not actually asking you to commit suicide. You feel it, don’t you? Noelle’s love has turned into a prison sentence. She’s staying out of obligation, not desire. If you agree to leave, I can move your soul to another world. I’ll give you a new body. A life without the chair.” “Stop talking,” I said, my voice raspy. “Just let me go.” The moment the words left my lips, a paring knife appeared on my lap, glinting under the dim fluorescent light. I gripped the handle, bracing myself to find the space between my ribs, when the door creaked open. Noelle was back. She didn’t say a word. She knelt before me, forced my jaw open, and hooked her fingers into my mouth to sweep out the pills she had forced on me minutes ago. I palmed the knife, hiding it beneath the cushion of my wheelchair. She brought in a basin of warm water. She brushed my teeth, washed my face, and began the familiar, clinical routine of wiping down my body. In the old days, she would kiss the scars. She would whisper apologies for losing her temper, calling herself a “grumpy wife” and promising to make it up to me. Tonight, there was only the sound of the washcloth against skin. When she finished, she flicked off the light and lay down on the narrow cot next to my bed, her back turned to me. She pulled out her phone, the glow illuminating the sharp line of her jaw. In the silence, I whispered her name. “Noelle.” Immediately, a voice memo played from her phone. “Noelle, today was…” She muted it instantly, but I’d heard enough. It was Beckett. The man she was supposed to love. The “Lead.” I didn’t know which universe Noelle had come from, but I remembered the first day we met. She had walked up to me, bold and radiant, and confessed everything. She told me she was a traveler, that she was sent here to win over Beckett, but that she’d caught one glimpse of me and decided the script could go to hell. Back then, I thought it was a charming, eccentric joke. It wasn’t until we got married that the Voice entered my head. It offered me a deal: leave Noelle, and I’d have a long, healthy, successful life. I’d refused without a second thought. The next day, the truck hit my car. Thinking about the Voice’s words from earlier, I couldn’t stop myself. “Noelle… do you love him now? Do you love Beckett?” The room stayed quiet for five agonizing seconds. Then, Noelle stood up. She didn’t answer. She just grabbed her phone and walked out into the living room. The walls in our cheap apartment were paper-thin. I heard the muffled vibration of the call connecting. “Noelle,” I heard Beckett say on the other end, “my friends all want to see you. Can you come over?” She whispered something too low for me to catch. When she stepped back into the bedroom, she was dressed in her street clothes. “Company emergency, Jude. Go back to sleep.” It was a pathetic lie. Ever since the Narrative forced her into bankruptcy, every door had been slammed in her face. To keep us afloat, she’d taken a job as a manual laborer on a bridge construction site. It was grueling twelve-hour shifts, but it never required late-night “emergencies.” And because I needed to be turned every two hours to prevent sores, Noelle never left me alone at night. Until now. I waited until the sound of her footsteps faded down the hall. Then, I pulled the knife from under my pillow. The blade was unnervingly sharp—a gift from the System. One quick swipe across the carotid, and the Narrative would finally get its way. After the accident, the doctors told me I was a “complete” spinal cord injury. Everything below my neck was dead weight. But after three years of agonizing, secret struggle, I had regained just enough function in my arms to sit up and pull myself into the wheelchair. I had planned to surprise Noelle on her birthday. I wanted to show her I could move again. I guess I’d be using that strength for a different purpose tonight. I didn’t want to die in bed. The mess would be too much for her to clean up. I hauled myself into the chair, the effort making my vision swim, and rolled into the bathroom. I held the knife to my wrist and pressed down. The lights flickered on. The harsh glare revealed Noelle standing in the doorway, her face ghostly pale. “Jude! What are you doing?” Before I could react, she lunged forward and twisted the knife out of my hand. The next thing I felt was the stinging heat of her palm against my cheek. She slapped me so hard my head barked against the tiled wall. “You lunatic!” she screamed, her voice breaking. “What did I do to deserve this? Why are you doing this to me?” She was shaking, her eyes bloodshot. She went on a rampage, smashing the toothbrush holder, the soap dish, anything she could reach. When the rage spent itself, she sank to the floor in front of my chair and looked up at me. “Why?” she whispered. She smelled like expensive cologne. The exact scent Beckett had been wearing when he visited me earlier that day. I looked at her, my heart feeling like it was being ground into glass. “Did you go see him?” Noelle froze. She went silent for a long time before finally nodding. “Is that what this is about?” “Jude, stop being so paranoid. I told you, there’s nothing going on. I only went because—” “Noelle,” I interrupted, my voice flat. “Let me go. I’m tired. I just want it to be over.” Her face went rigid. For a second, I thought she agreed. I thought she finally saw that our life was nothing but a slow-motion car wreck. But then she grabbed the knife from the floor and shoved the handle into my hand, pressing the tip against her own chest, right over her heart. “You want to die? Fine. But you have to kill me first.” I recoiled, trying to pull my hand back. “Noelle, stop it! Let go!” “You think you’re the only one who finds this life hard?” Her strength was terrifying. I felt the blade snag on the fabric of her shirt, piercing the skin. “Do you think it’s easy for me to watch you wither away every day? You want out? Good. We go together.” I felt something warm and wet hit my hand. Her blood. The horror of it shattered me. My chest felt like it was being crushed by a physical weight. I broke. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed, the sound torn from my throat. “I’m sorry, Noelle. I won’t do it. I won’t leave. Please, just stop.” The knife clattered to the floor. Noelle’s shirt was stained red. A few minutes later, she seemed to come back to herself. she reached out and stroked my hair, her expression unreadable. “Jude,” she said softly, “stay with me for one more birthday, okay?” Her birthday was in three days. After that night, Noelle stripped the apartment. Every knife, every glass, every sharp edge was gone. We ate off plastic plates. She continued to care for me, but the silence between us grew into a canyon. She spent every spare second glued to her phone. She still worked the days and came home to me at night. But I knew. I knew the “work” was no longer the construction site. I started checking Beckett’s social media. He posted constantly. Photos of Noelle bringing him water at his basketball games. Photos of them at the pier, laughing in the salt air. A photo of them at a candlelit table at a bistro we used to love. In the pictures, Noelle was smiling—that real, radiant smile with the dimple I hadn’t seen in three years. I stared at those photos until the image blurred. I realized I couldn’t even remember the last time she’d looked at me like that. The night before her birthday, Noelle came home late. She was stumbling, smelling of tequila and lime. Beckett was the one who walked her through the door. I was awake, watching from the bedroom. I saw him help her out of her coat, saw him use a warm towel to gently wipe the makeup from her face. “Don’t… don’t mess with my Beckett,” Noelle mumbled, her voice thick with drink. “I’ll take the hits for him. I’ll drink for him.” Beckett chuckled, brushing a stray hair from her forehead. “I know, Noelle. Everything I have is yours. I’m yours.” She whispered something back—a soft, intimate murmur that made Beckett’s face light up with pure joy. After he tucked her into the sofa, Beckett did something he’d never done before. He walked into my room. He saw I was awake and paused. He glanced back at Noelle on the couch and realized I’d seen everything. “Jude, don’t get the wrong idea,” he said, though there was no apology in his eyes. “I have a huge game tomorrow. The scouts are coming. The guys wanted to party, and Noelle was worried I’d be off my game if I drank, so she stepped in and did it for me. She was protecting me.” Beckett and I had grown up together. We’d played ball since we were ten. We made the state team together, signed to the same club. I knew exactly what tomorrow’s game was. It was the championship. The bridge to the national team. The chance to be scouted by the NBA. If the truck hadn’t hit me three years ago, I would have been standing on that court next to him. Beckett didn’t seem to care about my ghosts. He turned off my light and lay down on the cot Noelle usually slept in. “Go to sleep, Jude. I’ll look after you tonight since she’s out of it. Let me know if you need anything.” I grunted a “thanks.” I thought that was it. But then, Beckett’s voice drifted through the dark. “Jude? Have you ever thought about just… ending it?” My breath hitched. “You know the truth, right?” Beckett continued. “Noelle was meant to be with me. If she had stayed on her path, her life would be effortless. She’d be successful. She wouldn’t be living in this dump, killing herself to keep a ghost alive.” “Do you even know what she does for money?” he asked, his voice sharpening. “She’s a ‘water ghost’ for the bridge crews. She does deep-well saturation diving.” My heart stopped. I knew what that was. It’s one of the most dangerous jobs on the planet. Diving into narrow, mud-filled shafts to recover drill bits or clear obstructions. You’re blind, buried in silt, breathing through a thin tube. One mistake, one equipment failure, and you’re buried alive in a watery grave. Noelle… my Noelle was doing that? For me? When I didn’t answer, Beckett’s frustration boiled over. “Jude, listen to me. Noelle told me she loves me. But she says she can’t be with me because of you. Because of the guilt. If you actually cared about her, you’d stop being an anchor. You’d let her go.” The Voice had said the same thing. Hearing it from Beckett’s mouth felt like a physical blow to the stomach. I knew she was tired. I knew she deserved a life of light and ease, not mud and shadows. And I knew, with a crushing certainty, that she didn’t love me anymore. So, when Beckett whispered that he could leave a bottle of his mother’s extra-strength sleeping pills under my pillow, I nodded. Through the tears, I finally said yes. The next morning, the bottle was there. Beckett left before Noelle woke up. When she finally stirred, she came into the room. She didn’t mention the drinking or Beckett. She just told me she’d be late coming home again. “It’s your birthday,” I said, a final, selfish plea rising in my chest. “Noelle, please. Can you stay home today? Just today?” She hesitated. “The site… the crew is behind schedule…” “Just one day,” I begged. “That’s all I want. Please. We haven’t had a real day together in so long.” “Jude, grow up!” she snapped, the stress finally breaking her. “I don’t own the company. I can’t just skip work whenever I feel like it.” She saw my face fall and softened, just a fraction. “Look, I’ll try to be back early. I promise.” After she left, the home health aide arrived. I told him Noelle had called and given him the day off—paid. He was thrilled to leave early. Once the apartment was empty, I did something impossible. I hauled myself into the kitchen. Using every ounce of my agonizingly slow progress, I baked a cake. On our first birthday together, I had made her a cake from scratch. She’d cried, telling me it was the best thing she’d ever tasted because, as an orphan, no one had ever made her a cake before. I’d promised her then that I’d make her one every single year. It took me hours. My hands shook so much the frosting was lumpy and the “Happy Birthday, Noelle” was barely legible. It was ugly, but it was done. Then, I went to the closet and found my suit. The one I’d worn the night we met. She told me then that I was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. I changed, crawled back into the bedroom, and turned on the TV. The championship game was being broadcast. Beckett was spectacular. He was the MVP, the star, the man the world was built for. I watched him stand under the spotlights, clutching the trophy, his smile blinding. “Thank you,” he said into the mic, his voice echoing through the arena. “This win means everything. But there’s someone here tonight who means even more. Someone I need to say something to.” My chest tightened. “Noelle,” he said, his voice dropping into that tender tone. “I’m standing here because of you. This MVP trophy? It’s a confession. I love you. If you’re willing to give us a real chance… come up here.” The camera panned. Noelle was standing in the front row, holding a bouquet of lilies. The crowd began to roar, chanting for her to go up. “Go! Go! Go!” I saw the hesitation in her eyes, but then she started to move. I twisted the cap off the pill bottle. Step one. She looked down at the flowers, a shy smile touching her lips. I took one pill. I swallowed it dry, the bitterness coating my throat. Step two. She looked up, her gaze fixed on Beckett, her expression hardening into resolve. I took two more. A sip of water. The bitterness began to spread. Step three. Three more pills. By the time she reached Beckett—exactly ninety-nine steps from her seat—I had swallowed ninety-nine pills. My vision began to blur. I couldn’t tell if it was the drug or the tears. “Kiss her! Kiss her!” the crowd screamed. Noelle looked up at Beckett. He looked down at her, his face full of triumph. She reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist. I shook out the very last pill. As their lips met on screen, I swallowed it. I closed my eyes. The empty bottle slipped from my numb fingers and rolled across the floor. The roar of the crowd on the TV was deafening, but for me, everything was finally, mercifully, falling silent. … Noelle didn’t actually kiss him. At the very last second, as their breaths mingled, a sharp, electric jolt of panic shot through her heart. My face—the version of me that laughed, the version of me that looked at her with pure devotion—flashed in her mind. She shoved Beckett back, stammered an apology, and bolted through the confused crowd. As she ran, she screamed inside her head: Voice! System! I did it! I helped him win. Now give me what you promised. Fix Jude. Make him whole again! The Voice didn’t answer. Noelle didn’t care. She just ran for home. Two months ago, the System had offered her a bargain. It had “relented,” telling her that if she stayed by the Lead’s side and helped him reach his peak, it would restore Jude’s health. Noelle couldn’t bear to see me suffer anymore. She’d agreed instantly. For two months, she’d played the role of the devoted muse. She’d drunk for him, cheered for him, endured the gossip and the guilt, all while coming home to a husband who looked at her with dying eyes. Every time she saw my despair, she wanted to scream: Just a little longer! You’re going to walk again! But she couldn’t. The System had warned her that one word of the deal would void the contract. Almost there, she’d whispered to herself every night while I slept. When you’re better, I’ll spend the rest of my life making you forgive me. She stopped to buy a bouquet of gardenias—my favorite flower to give her. “Jude!” she called out, breathless as she raced up the stairs. “Jude, I’m home! Look what I got—” She threw open the door, and the words died in her throat.

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Tomorrow was supposed to be the day I married Hudson. But instead of final fittings or rehearsing vows, my world started glitching. Strange, translucent lines of text—scrolling “bullet comments”—began drifting across my vision like a live social media feed only I could see. The comments called me the “Venomous Second Lead.” They said Hudson was so desperate to escape our marriage that he’d literally turned into a dog. Even worse, they mentioned that in exactly one week, I’d be dead, having fallen from the roof of a skyscraper. I was still reeling, staring at the empty air, when my parents burst into my room. Their faces were pale, their expressions twisted with a mix of confusion and disgust. They told me Hudson was gone. Missing. In his place, they found a dog in his bedroom. They were holding it now. I looked down at the Samoyed in my father’s arms. The dog looked back at me, its eyes narrowed in a look of pure, unadulterated loathing. In that instant, it clicked. The comments were right. This wasn’t just a pet. This was Hudson. Without a word, I lunged forward, snatched the dog from my father’s startled grip, and bolted for the door. “Paige! Where are you going?” my mother shrieked behind me. I didn’t look back. I just threw my voice over my shoulder as I reached the driveway. “To the vet. This dog needs to be fixed. Immediately.” The creature in my arms visibly recoiled, a pathetic whimper escaping its throat. My vision flared with a fresh wave of comments. The digital crowd was losing its mind, screaming about whether I was actually going to “neuter the male lead.” … 1 The moment I peeled out of the driveway with the dog, my vision became a chaotic mess of scrolling text. [??? Is she actually going to snip him???] [The villainess has finally lost it. How does she even have the nerve?] [RIP Hudson’s manhood. This is going south fast!] [Chill, she’s just bluffing. She’s obsessed with him. She’d never actually go through with it.] [Exactly. She’s ‘ride or die’ for Hudson. She’ll probably end up pampering the dog because it belongs to his family.] I glanced at the comments and let out a sharp, cold laugh. I slammed my foot onto the gas, the engine roaring in response. In the passenger seat, the Samoyed—Hudson—was a mess. His paws were dug deep into the leather upholstery, his white fur standing on end as we drifted around a sharp corner. He was terrified. Good. [Poor Hudson! Look at him shaking!] [My heart is breaking for him! He’s a mess!] [But honestly, look at how cute he is when he’s scared? Paige’s heart has to be melting right now.] [Are you guys blind? This isn’t ‘cute’ time! He’s about to lose his ability to produce heirs!] [Don’t worry, he’s the protagonist. He’s got plot armor. Something will stop her!] I kept one hand on the wheel and reached over with the other to pat his head. Hudson snapped. He whipped his head around, baring his teeth at my hand in a snarl of pure aggression. He was ready to tear my skin off. I gave him a wicked, sideways grin. “Go ahead. Bite me. Give me a reason to just skip the surgery and go straight to euthanasia.” His teeth chattered for a second, then he slowly pulled his lips back over them. He slumped into the seat, defeated. The feed went wild again: [Damn, she’s cold. Euthanasia?!] [To be fair, Hudson’s a coward. He couldn’t even man up and call off the wedding, so he turned into a dog and left her to die in the original plot. Total trash move.] [Hey! It’s the plot! He’s a victim of fate!] [Victim? A real man says ‘I don’t love you.’ He doesn’t pull a disappearing act and leave his fiancée to jump off a building!] [Technically he’s not a man right now. He’s a male dog. LOL.] By the time the comments peaked, I was pulling into the parking lot of ‘Everheart Specialty Vet.’ The moment Hudson saw the sign with the little blue cross, he went ballistic. He scrambled up, front paws scratching frantically against the glass of the passenger window. “Awoo! Awoo-woo!” He was howling for help. But tonight, help wasn’t coming. He tried the door handle with his paws, desperate and clumsy. I leaned in close to his ear, my voice a silky, cruel whisper. “Don’t fight it, babe. Think of it as a gift. I’m just being a responsible new owner.” His mouth fell open, his eyes wide with a very human sense of despair. The screen in my head was a blur: [Oh my god, poor baby!] [But wait… he IS a dog right now. Neutering a dog is like… basic pet care…] [Shut up! That’s the Male Lead! He’s going to turn back eventually!] [Exactly! If she snips the dog, what happens to the man? How is he supposed to have his ‘steamy nights’ with the True Heroine later?!] [Wait for it… the original story says the True Heroine is his guardian angel. She always shows up when he’s in trouble!] [A ‘Beauty Saves the Beast’ moment! I’m here for it! He’ll fall so much harder for her after this.] [And the villainess will be one step closer to her rooftop exit! Hahaha!] I stared at that last comment, a cold lump forming in my chest. Fine. If I’m destined to fall off a building, I’m making sure your “Golden Boy” falls with me—starting with his dignity. Let’s see how he enjoys his “happily ever after” without his favorite equipment. I hopped out of the car, hauled Hudson out by his collar, and marched into the clinic. 2 The second we hit the lobby, I tried to set him down, but he turned into a thrashing blur of white fur and claws. “Awoooo!!!” [The agony in that voice… I’m literally crying.] [Where is the Heroine?! If she doesn’t show up in thirty seconds, it’s over!] I had to pin him against my chest, shouting for a technician. Hudson didn’t hesitate; he lunged for my wrist, his teeth sinking into my skin. I didn’t flinch. I grabbed his head, forcing him to look me in the eye. My voice was a low, dangerous growl. “Bite me one more time, and I’ll tell the surgeon to take an extra two inches off.” He froze. His jaws went slack. [The ‘extra two inches’ comment, I’m dying! I feel bad but that’s hilarious.] [IT IS NOT FUNNY!] The girl at the front desk, a teenager with a messy ponytail, didn’t even look up from her computer. “Sorry, we’re closing. Come back tomorrow at eight.” “I need an emergency neuter. Now.” She sighed, finally looking up. “Look, it’s 10 PM. The doctor is literally walking out the—” “I’ll pay extra.” “How much extra?” I pulled out my phone and scanned the QR code on her desk. Ping. Transaction successful: $15,000. The girl’s jaw dropped so far I thought it might hit the linoleum. I gave her a sharp, predatory smile. “Fifteen thousand dollars for a standard neuter. But I want it done now. Swiftly. I want him completely… decommissioned.” The girl practically vaulted over the counter. “Ma’am, for fifteen grand, I’ll sharpen the scalpel myself. One second!” Hudson looked like he was about to faint. The receptionist snatched him from my arms and sprinted toward the back, screaming at the top of her lungs, “Dr. Miller! Stop! Don’t leave! We’ve got a fifteen-thousand-dollar balls-ectomy! We’re rich!” The comments were stunned: [She’s for real…] [She dropped fifteen grand just to spite him. Honestly? Iconic.] [The Villainess is giving ‘Unhinged Queen’ energy and I’m kind of obsessed.] [Are you people crazy? Hudson is about to be castrated! My poor baby!] [Heroine! Where are you?! Your future happiness is on the line!] Dr. Miller, who had been halfway out the back door, didn’t hesitate for a single second. For fifteen thousand dollars, ethics and office hours were merely suggestions. Within minutes, he was back in his scrubs, snapping on latex gloves. “Jenny, prep the anesthesia and the tray.” As Hudson was hoisted onto the cold stainless steel of the operating table, his eyes were fixed on me. They were full of disbelief. He probably never thought I—Paige—would do this. In his mind, my devotion was supposed to be hardcoded into my DNA. That’s why he’d let his family bring him to me after he transformed. He hated our arranged marriage, hated that I was “forced” upon him, but he knew I loved him more than life itself. He figured he’d hide out as a pet, let me wait on him hand and foot, and watch me crumble in grief over his “disappearance.” He wanted a front-row seat to my misery. Instead, he got a front-row seat to his own surgery. The receptionist, Jenny, was moving with lightning speed, laying out the tools. Forceps, scalpels, sutures, antiseptic. The sight of the blade triggered a primal fear in Hudson. He tried to bolt, his paws slipping on the steel table. He let out a piercing, soul-shattering howl. Jenny pinned him down with practiced ease. Then, Dr. Miller stepped forward with the sedative. Hudson’s eyes stayed locked on mine, wide with betrayal, until the drug took hold and his head finally slumped over. Just as the doctor raised the scalpel… “STOP!” The front door slammed open with a violent crash. [SHE’S HERE! THE QUEEN IS HERE!] [Hudson is saved! I knew she wouldn’t let him down!] I turned around, my eyes narrowing. It was my sister. Daisy. The “True Daughter” who had been brought back to our family only six months ago. 3 The comments went into a frenzy: [The Heroine has arrived! I knew the universe wouldn’t let him be snipped!] [Daisy is the one Hudson is destined for. Paige is just a stepping stone.] Daisy was panting, sweat beading on her forehead. She must have sprinted from the house. Her eyes bypassed me entirely, landing on the limp white dog on the table. Her eyes welled with tears instantly. “Paige, stop! You can’t do this!” [Daisy’s heart is breaking. That’s her future husband’s legacy on that table!] [Move, Paige! Get out of the way!] When I didn’t move, Daisy rushed over and grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. “Paige, this is Hudson’s dog! Hudson is missing! If he comes back and finds out you mutilated his favorite pet, how are you going to explain yourself? He’ll never forgive you!” I looked at Daisy’s tear-streaked face and felt a wave of cold amusement. My “True Daughter” sister. Since she’d arrived, she’d taken everything. My room, my jewelry, my place in the company. I just hadn’t realized she was planning on taking my fiancé, too—even in dog form. I shook her hand off. “Doctor, proceed.” Dr. Miller looked between us, sweating. “Look, if this is a family dispute…” “Do it,” I snapped. “I’ll double the fee.” “No!” Daisy shrieked, throwing herself over the dog’s body like a shield. “This is animal cruelty! I’ll call the police!” I let out a dry, jagged laugh. “Daisy, this is my fiancé’s dog. Making a medical decision for a pet isn’t a crime. It’s called being a responsible owner.” Daisy glared at me, her voice trembling. “You’re only doing this because he left you at the altar. You’re taking your petty anger out on a helpless animal!” [Daisy’s right! Paige is just a bitter, rejected woman!] [With Daisy there, the villainess won’t touch a hair on his head!] I stepped closer to Daisy, looming over her. “Hudson humiliated our family. He made me a laughingstock. And you’re telling me I can’t even touch his dog?” I leaned in, my voice a whisper. “Or is it that you know exactly who this dog is?” Daisy’s pupils shrunk. She flinched. [Did she catch on?] [No way. In the original book, she never finds out until the very end!] I straightened up, watching the guilt flash across her face. The comments were right—my sweet little sister knew everything. “Doctor,” I said, my voice flat. “Continue.” “No! Please!” Daisy started sobbing, grabbing my hand. “Paige, I’m begging you. Don’t do it. Please?” “He’s Hudson’s… he’s so special to him!” She bit her lip, clearly dying to tell me the truth but bound by the ‘rules’ of the story. [Ugh, my heart. Daisy is literally begging for his life.] [Paige is a monster. Look at her crying!] I looked at Daisy’s miserable face and gave a slow, wicked nod. “Fine.” Daisy’s eyes lit up. “Really?” I smiled. “We don’t have to neuter him. Let’s just change the procedure.” “What procedure?” Daisy asked, her voice cautious. I turned to Dr. Miller. “Doctor, do you perform vocal cord clips? I’m tired of hearing this dog howl. I want him silent.” The feed exploded: [PAIGE, YOU ARE THE DEVIL!] [A mute dog?! That’s even worse than being a eunuch!] [Daisy, do something! Your man is about to get his throat slit!] Daisy turned white. I watched her face, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction. Hudson, Daisy… you thought you could hide behind a curse to avoid me? Think again. I’ll break you both. Dr. Miller swallowed hard, his hand shaking as he held the scalpel. He’d clearly never dealt with a client this unhinged. Daisy dropped to her knees, clutching the hem of my coat. “Paige, I’m begging you. Just let him go. Please.” [Kneeling for her man… I’m sobbing!] [Paige, that’s enough! She’s on the floor!] I looked down at her, and suddenly, a new idea struck me. A truly evil, wonderful idea. 4 I pulled out my phone. Without breaking eye contact with Daisy, I tapped a few buttons. Ping. Daisy’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, looking confused. Transaction received: $200,000. [Wait, what?] [Is she trying to buy her off? Daisy can’t be bought!] I squatted down so I was eye-level with her. “Is that enough for you to step aside?” Daisy looked at the screen, then back at me, her expression one of insulted pride. “Do you think I’m that shallow? You think money matters more to me than Hudson—I mean, the dog?” [Yes! Tell her, Daisy! Your love is priceless!] [Look at that resolve! She’s a saint!] I smiled and tapped my screen again. Ping. Transaction received: $200,000. “Priceless?” I whispered. “Nothing is priceless. It just has a market value.” [Daisy, don’t look at the phone!] [It’s a trap! Don’t let her corrupt you!] Daisy bit her lip. Her voice lost its edge. “Paige… money can’t buy loyalty…” I watched her closely. A thought occurred to me. Hudson was a rich kid, sure, but he was also a stingy bastard. He probably hadn’t given Daisy a dime since she’d arrived. Daisy grew up in the middle of nowhere. She’d spent her life counting pennies. Being the “True Daughter” meant she had the name, but our parents were still keeping her on a tight allowance to “teach her the value of work.” I leaned in closer. “Tell me, Daisy. Since you and Hudson started your little… secret friendship… has he ever bought you anything? A car? A house? Has he even sent you a Venmo for coffee?” Daisy’s face turned a deep, shameful red. “No.” “Not a single dollar?” She shook her head. She wanted to lie, but the truth was written all over her face. The comments shifted: [Wait… he hasn’t given her anything? Not even a gift?] [Okay, that’s actually kind of a red flag.] I let out a harsh laugh. “He’s engaged to me, screwing around with you, and he hasn’t even paid for your Uber? What a joke.” I stood up and did a final tap on my phone. Ping. Transaction received: $1,000,000. Daisy gasped. It was a sharp, audible sound that filled the quiet clinic. I patted her shoulder, my voice dripping with honey. “Sweetie, you’ve been eating crumbs. Hudson is a dead end. Once this is over, I’ll take you out. I know a place downtown with the best drinks and even better-looking men. Real men. Not dogs.” [Daisy, no! She’s poisoning your soul!] [She’s wavering! I can see it in her eyes!] [Their love can survive this! It has to!] Daisy looked at the million-dollar balance on her phone. Then she looked at the unconscious Samoyed on the table. Her eyes flicked back and forth, a war raging in her head. Then, she took a deep breath. Her voice was suddenly very, very steady. “Dr. Miller? Please continue.” The comments went silent for a full three seconds. [Daisy, WHAT?!] [She sold him out for a million bucks?!] [Where is the ‘eternal love’?! Where is the loyalty?!] I stood there, stunned. Daisy didn’t even look at me. She was too busy scrolling through her bank app, a tiny, blissful smile playing on her lips. She looked like she’d just won the lottery. “Doctor,” she urged, her voice impatient. “Let’s get on with it. Make it quick. Snip-snip.” Before I could even process her sudden heel-turn, Hudson’s eyes fluttered open. The anesthesia hadn’t fully knocked him out yet. He gropped for Daisy with a faint “awoo,” looking for comfort. But when he heard her words—the “snip-snip”—his pupils dilated with pure horror. Thud. His head hit the table. He’d passed out from pure shock. “You heard the lady, Doctor,” I said, feeling better than I had in years. “Proceed.” Daisy didn’t even look up. She was too busy checking her reflection in her phone screen, already picking out which designer bag she was going to buy first. Hudson was going to wake up a very different man.

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My best friend had just given birth, and I was cradling the tiny, swaddled bundle, lost in that soft, new-baby scent. It was a rare moment of peace—until Mark stepped toward us, his voice cutting through the quiet like a serrated blade. He didn’t say he was the godfather. He said he was the father. The world tilted. I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs, certain I’d misheard him through the haze of hospital-grade disinfectant and exhaustion. But Mark just let out a sharp, cynical breath and repeated it. The boy was his. Then he twisted the knife. He told me that on the very night my father died—the night I was drowning in grief—he had been with Chloe. They’d spent the entire night locked in a hotel room, burning through an entire box of condoms while I sat alone by my father’s cooling body. I stood there, paralyzed. My throat felt like it was closing up, thick with something bitter and suffocating. It took everything I had to squeeze out a single sentence: “We just signed our marriage license yesterday.” Mark didn’t flinch. He reached out, pulling me into a mocking half-embrace, his voice dropping into that low, soothing register he used when he wanted to manipulate me. He told me Chloe was nothing more than a “fun distraction.” If he’d wanted to marry her, he would have. Then, with a glint of cruel amusement, he added one last detail: Chloe had been keeping a secret from me, too. They had a history. He had been her first. … 1 I don’t remember the drive home. Memory is a fractured thing when your life implodes. By the time Mark walked through the front door, the penthouse was a battlefield. I had smashed our wedding portraits, the floor a sea of jagged glass and silver frames. I’d ripped the “Just Married” banners from the walls and shredded the silk ribbons. I’d even taken a golf club to the designer bed frame we’d picked out together. Mark stood in the foyer, silhouetted against the city lights. He didn’t yell. He just leaned against the wall and finished a cigarette in silence. When he finally moved, it was to check my hands. “Did you cut yourself?” I recoiled, hissing as I shoved him away. The rage I’d been clutching like a live wire finally snapped. “Why?” I screamed, my eyes burning. “Why her? Why any of this?” Mark arched an eyebrow, looking genuinely thoughtful for a second. Then, he smiled. It was the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. “Because you’re stable, Norma,” he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “You’re detail-oriented. You’re peaceful. You were willing to walk away from your acting career, to step out of the spotlight and be a ‘wife.’ You’re the woman a man comes home to.” He paused, a shadow of something like disdain crossing his face. “Chloe? She’s a disaster. A gorgeous, reckless trust-fund brat who can’t even boil an egg. She’s not wife material.” The more honest he was, the more my heart felt like it was being fed through a paper shredder. Seeing the tears spill over, Mark stepped in again, wrapping his arms around me. “Look, I told you. There’s no future with her. From now on, it’s just… a co-parenting situation. That’s it.” I tore myself out of his grip, a raw, guttural sob breaking from my chest. “Then why marry me? If you have a child with her, why would you put me through this? Why did you lie to me for years?” One was the man I had worshipped for three years. The other was my sister in every way that mattered. They had played me like a fool. I clutched my chest, the weight of the truth making it impossible to breathe. Mark didn’t answer. He just looked at me with a cold, clinical pity, as if I were a patient having a psychotic break. “Stop the drama,” he said, his voice turning brisk and impatient. “Chloe is waiting for me to bring her some homemade chicken soup. She’s recovering.” I stood rooted to the spot, watching the man I loved walk into the kitchen. I watched him move with practiced ease—chopping vegetables, skimming the fat off the broth, adjusting the flame. In three years, he had never cooked for me. Not once. I had always assumed he didn’t know how. But as I watched him, a memory of Chloe’s voice drifted back to me. Years ago, she’d laughed about an ex-boyfriend—some rich kid who’d never stepped foot in a kitchen until he met her. She said he’d spent weeks obsessively learning to cook just to fix her picky eating habits. She’d joked that he almost blew up his parents’ kitchen trying to make her the perfect risotto. I had pictured that scene a thousand times, wondering what kind of man loved a woman that much. Now, the pieces were clicking into place with a sickening thud. All the moments I’d forced myself to ignore came flooding back. When we were out, Chloe always had his sunglasses ready before he even asked. At dinner, she’d instinctively tell the waiter, “No onions for him,” before I could speak. When Chloe tripped, Mark’s hand was on her arm before I’d even realized she’d stumbled. When Chloe got a fever, Mark walked out of a board meeting, leaving fifty executives sitting in silence, just to drive her to the ER. My vision blurred. “Mark,” I rasped. “I want a divorce.” He looked up then, a small, annoyed crease appearing between his brows. Before he could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and a genuine, soft smile—the kind he never gave me—lit up his face. “Hey, princess,” he answered. “Yeah, the soup’s on the stove. Just play with the baby for a bit, okay?” He paused, casting a long, meaningful look in my direction. “She doesn’t know. Don’t worry.” He hung up and looked at me. “Chloe doesn’t know I told you. Keep it that way. She doesn’t want to lose you as a friend.” He began pouring the soup into a thermal flask, his movements hurried. He was already halfway out the door. “I said I want a divorce,” I repeated, my voice shaking. Mark turned back, looking genuinely confused. “We literally just got the license, Norma. What is wrong with you? Do you want us to be the laughingstock of the city? Grow up. Be dignified.” I grabbed the crystal vase off the entry table and hurled it at his feet. It shattered, water and lilies spraying across his expensive shoes. “Dignified?” I roared. “Did you think about my dignity when you were screwing her while I was burying my father? Did you think about it when you got her pregnant? Why do I have to be the one who’s dignified?” The tears were thick now, hot and humiliating. Mark just narrowed his eyes and muttered a single word: “Psychopath.” Then he slammed the door. I collapsed onto the floor, the silence of the apartment pressing in on me. A second later, my phone began chirping. It was Chloe. [Norma, why’d you leave before I woke up? 🙁 ] [Did you see your godson? Isn’t he perfect?] [When are you and Mark leaving for the honeymoon? I’m so jealous!] [Ugh, Mark is such a jerk for dragging you to the courthouse the day I went into labor. I need you here for the recovery! Waaaah!] Then, another text: [Actually, don’t worry about me. The baby’s dad is here taking care of us.] She followed it with a photo. A man’s elegant, long fingers were holding a baby bottle. On his ring finger sat a gold band—the exact match to the one I was wearing. I started to shake so hard the phone nearly slipped from my grip. They weren’t even hiding it anymore. They hadn’t even bothered to take off the rings. At that same moment, Chloe posted to her Instagram story. Just one line of text over a black screen: If I asked you to stay this time, would you? A notification popped up from Mark: [Go on the honeymoon by yourself. I’ll catch up when I can.] The air left my lungs. My chest felt like it was being crushed by a physical weight. Shaking, I went to Chloe’s post and typed a comment for everyone to see. No need for the cryptic bullshit. You can have him. I dragged my broken body upstairs and began to pack. I couldn’t spend another second in this “dream home” I had spent months decorating. But as I reached into the back of the closet for my suitcase, my hand brushed against something cold. An old phone. Without thinking, I entered Chloe’s birthday as the passcode. Unlocked. The wallpaper was a photo of them kissing. The notes app was a shrine to her. Chloe’s cycle. Chloe’s allergies. Chloe’s prenatal appointments. The gallery was worse. Thousands of photos of her. Chloe sleeping. Chloe laughing. Chloe pouting. Chloe flushed in the heat of a moment I wasn’t meant to see. Chloe with tears in her eyes as she was wheeled into the delivery room. A digital timeline of a life lived in parallel to mine, dating back to when they were twelve years old. In some of the photos, I was there—captured in the background, a blurry, oblivious ghost in my own life. My fingers were numb. Mark and I had been together for three years. Aside from our staged wedding photos, I could barely find a picture of us together. Whenever I’d asked for a selfie, he’d pull away. “You’re a public figure, Norma. We don’t need the tabloids tracking our every move.” He had never visited me on a film set, yet he’d never missed one of Chloe’s gallery openings or charity galas. He’d complained that my dream honeymoon to the Amalfi Coast was “too far,” yet they had traveled the world together. They’d been to Disney twenty-seven times. Twenty-seven times. Every time I’d suggested a theme park for our anniversary, he’d called it “childish” and “boring.” I scrolled until my eyes burned and the tears ran dry. I put the phone back exactly where I found it. I texted my agent: [That Hollywood project—the thriller. I’m in. Send Paul to pick me up. Now.] My agent replied instantly: [Norma! Thank God. I knew you weren’t done. I’ll have him there in twenty minutes.] I dragged my suitcase to the curb, but as I moved to get into the car, a hand clamped onto my shoulder like a vice, spinning me around. Mark’s eyes were bloodshot, his face a mask of primal fury. “Norma, Chloe tried to kill herself.” “Because of what you posted.” I froze. “What?” “You knew she was fragile!” he screamed, shaking me. “You knew she just gave birth! Why would you trigger her like that?” Before I could speak, he shoved me into his car. “You and her are both O-negative,” he hissed, his voice cracking. “You’re the only one who can save her.” He tore through red lights, his hands white-knuckled on the wheel, dragging me into the hospital. “Doctor! She’s O-negative! She can donate!” He was trembling. I had never seen him so undone, so utterly terrified. I stood there like a hollowed-out shell, letting him drag me into the donor room. He stayed there, his grip bruising as he forced my sleeve up. I was staring at the wall, my mind a static hum of nothingness, until the doctor’s voice broke through. “I’m sorry, sir. We can’t take her blood. This woman is pregnant.” The world went silent. I instinctively moved my hand to my stomach. Then Mark’s voice shattered the silence. “I said draw the blood! I don’t care about the baby! I want Chloe alive!” The blood in my veins turned to ice. My tears started falling before I even realized I was crying. “Mark… this is your child.” But he was already screaming at the nurses, demanding they stick the needle into my arm. “Mark—no!” I tried to rip the needle out. I tried to run. But I only made it one step before his hands were on me again, pinning me down. He looked at me, his expression suddenly, eerily calm—a calm that made my skin crawl. “Norma. Give the blood to Chloe. Now.” Four security guards held me down in that sterile room. I watched, tube after tube, as the life was drained out of me and rushed down the hall to save the woman who had stolen my life. The room began to spin. My face went gray. Before the last vial was full, the world went black. … I woke up three days later. The doctor told me, with a heavy, sympathetic look, that the blood loss had been too severe. I had slipped into a coma. My body couldn’t sustain the pregnancy. The baby was gone. I felt nothing. Just a vast, echoing numbness. I turned my head to see Chloe sitting by my bed, her eyes red and puffy. “Norma… you know everything now, don’t you?” “I’m so sorry. I felt so guilty, I just couldn’t handle it. I didn’t think Mark would… I didn’t know he’d do that to you.” She collapsed against my bed, sobbing. It was a loud, performative sound. I noticed the bandages on her wrists were just Band-Aids. She didn’t look like someone who had been on the brink of death. She looked up, her face twisted with a sudden, desperate resolve. “Norma, listen to me. My baby… he’ll be your baby too. We’ll raise him together. I’ll share him with you.” A surge of pure, acidic loathing rose in my throat. “Get. Out.” Chloe blinked, looking wounded. She grabbed my hand and tried to use it to slap her own face. “I know sorry isn’t enough! But I don’t want to lose you! Hit me! Do whatever you want, just don’t hate me!” As she tried to force my hand against her cheek again, Mark appeared in the doorway. He rushed over, tearing Chloe away from me. In the chaos, I was shoved, tumbling out of the high hospital bed and crashing onto the floor. I felt a sharp, warm gush between my legs. I groaned, gasping for a nurse. Mark froze, his hand hovering toward me, but Chloe’s wail cut him off. “Mark! It’s all your fault! Norma hates me now! I’m going to lose my best friend!” Mark immediately turned to her, shushing her. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sorry. Don’t get upset, you’re still healing. Let’s get you home. The baby needs you.” I watched their retreating backs from the floor. “Mark,” I spat, my voice a jagged edge. “I will never forgive you. Not in this life. Not in the next.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second, but he didn’t turn around. Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed with a text from him. [I’m sending Chloe and the baby away. I’m ending it with her for good.] [When you’re recovered, we’ll go on that honeymoon. We’ll start over.] I turned off the screen. I didn’t reply. I thought of the child I’d never meet. My father was gone. I had no one left. I had pinned all my hopes on a family of my own, and Mark had murdered that hope with his own hands. I stayed awake until dawn. When the nurse came in, I told her I was checking out. Mark walked in as I was signing the papers. He didn’t say a word. He walked up to me and backhanded me across the face so hard my ears rang. The copper taste of blood filled my mouth. Before I could even process the pain, he grabbed me by the hair and slammed my face toward his phone screen. The headlines were exploding. Pop Star Chloe’s Secret Baby: The Dark Truth Revealed. Below the fold were photos from years ago—grainy, horrifying images of Chloe from a kidnapping incident she’d survived in her teens. His voice was a low, terrifying hiss. “I made a concession, Norma. I was going to choose you. Why did you do this?” “Do you have any idea what this will do to her? It took me ten years to pull her out of that depression! You destroyed everything!” I stared at the screen, dazed. “I didn’t do it,” I whispered. But he wasn’t listening. He dragged me out of the room and into a secluded wing of the hospital. The room was flooded with blinding fluorescent light. A row of men—men who looked like they’d been pulled from the darkest corners of the city—stood there, naked. Cameras were mounted in every corner. My heart plummeted. I gripped Mark’s arm. “What are you doing?” A sick, twisted smile spread across his face. “You’re an actress, Norma. You know how the industry works.” “The fastest way to bury a scandal is with a bigger one.” His eyes were manic. “You’re an Oscar winner. If photos of your assault hit the internet, no one will care about Chloe anymore.” I stopped breathing. I looked at the man I had married. I had just lost his child because of him. And now, he was handing me over to be destroyed to protect his mistress’s reputation. Mark shoved me away and walked toward the door. “Make it quick,” he told the men. He stepped out and locked the door behind him. I threw myself against the wood, screaming, pounding until my knuckles bled. “Mark! Let me out! I didn’t do it! Mark, please!” Outside, there was only the roar of his car engine as he drove away. I sank to the floor. As the men began to close in, reaching for my clothes, I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me. … I don’t know how much time passed. The lights were dimmed now. I lay in the center of the room like a piece of discarded meat. There wasn’t an inch of skin that wasn’t bruised. The blood from the miscarriage was still seeping out, staining the linoleum floor. I crawled, inch by agonizing inch, toward a ceramic vase in the corner. With the last of my strength, I knocked it over. I picked up a jagged shard. Without a moment’s hesitation, I drew it across my wrist. The world was fading when the door was finally kicked in. A massive shadow rushed toward me, a voice roaring in agony. “Who did this? I’ll kill them! I’ll kill them all!”

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