Category: English

On my prenatal check-up day, Eric was too busy, so Althea—his so-called “childhood friend”—drove me. She suddenly jerked the wheel. Metal screamed as we crashed into a semi-truck. The world collapsed around us. I didn’t call Eric, an ER doctor. I called 911 and waited. Because last time, I called him first. He saved our baby, but Althea bled out and died. He pretended not to blame me, even arranging a private room for my recovery. Then, on the day I was discharged, he took me to Althea’s grave—and stabbed me. My baby died instantly. As I bled out, his eyes burned with hatred. “If you hadn’t grabbed the wheel, Althea would still be alive!” he hissed, twisting the knife. “A life for a life.” My blood splattered across her headstone. Then—I woke up back in the wrecked car. … A violent jolt, and the searing, twisting pain in my abdomen dragged me back to reality. I had been reborn. My hands trembled as I fumbled for my phone in my purse. This time, I didn’t call my husband, the brilliant ER doctor. I dialed 911. The ambulance arrived quickly. Eric, of course, was the first responder on site, sprinting past the passenger side, straight to the driver’s door. Only after he had carefully lifted Althea from the wreckage did I dare to whisper for help to the other paramedics. One of his colleagues, a woman I recognized, shot me a disgusted look. “Really, Leah? Now is not the time for your games,” she snapped, her face a mask of disapproval. My strength gave out. My hands slipped from my belly, and the weight of my pregnancy slammed me against the back of the front seat. A warm, sticky wetness spread beneath me, staining the fabric of my maternity dress a horrifying crimson. They didn’t even glance my way. Gritting my teeth, I used every last ounce of my will to crawl out of the shattered rear window. But every piece of emergency equipment—the oxygen masks, the IV drips, the heart monitors—was being used on Althea. Eric never once looked at me. I heard him mutter, “Serves her right.” A cold sweat drenched my body. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. It was everywhere—under me, in me. With every passing second, I could feel the baby’s heartbeat growing fainter, a tiny drum slowing to a stop. In my past life, I had called him screaming, and Althea had been on the phone with him too. He chose me then, because of the baby. He rushed me to the hospital. By the time he returned to the crash, the police had already towed the car away. Althea’s body was lying on the roadside, covered by a white sheet, dead from blood loss. He had been so calm when he told me. “It’s not your fault,” he’d said, his voice steady. He even upgraded me to a lavish private suite to “rest and recover.” And then, he’d murdered me on her grave. “Althea wasn’t just my friend, Leah,” he had hissed, the knife twisting in my gut. “She was my life. Do you have any idea what it feels like to bleed out? Don’t worry. You’re about to.” This time, I just wanted to escape. But even now, he refused to spare me. He wouldn’t even grant me the mercy of a single piece of medical equipment. My dress was soaked through, and I was lying in a rapidly expanding pool of my own blood. My voice was a faint rasp. “Please… my baby… save my baby…” The nearest nurse finally seemed to notice me. She glanced over, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. She bent down and patronizingly patted my swollen belly. “Leah, honey, the drama’s getting a little old, don’t you think? Everyone at the hospital knows you’re jealous of Eric’s friend. But to pull a stunt like this while you’re pregnant? Seriously?” “Even if you don’t care about yourself, think of your child. Is a man really worth having a death on your conscience? Right now, you should be praying that Miss Miller is okay. Because if she’s not, with how close she and Eric are, you can bet he’ll file for divorce.” I knew Eric didn’t love me. But I never imagined his colleagues saw me this way, as a manipulative, hysterical shrew. The cramps in my belly intensified, stealing my breath, silencing me completely. The blood flowed out of me, a relentless tide. Every single medic was gathered around Althea. Not one person checked on me. Just as my vision started to tunnel from blood loss, I heard a gasp nearby. “Whoa! That’s… that’s a lot of blood. Oh God, you don’t think she’s actually hurt, do you?” “Nah, it’s an act,” another voice scoffed. “She’s trying to guilt-trip Eric into leaving his friend and running to her. She caused this whole mess. Ask Eric if you don’t believe me.” Finally, Eric’s footsteps approached. But not to save me. He kicked my head, his voice laced with venomous impatience. “Leah, have you had enough? I’m here now. You can stop pretending.” “What is wrong with you? You grab the steering wheel, cause a crash, and end up like this, all so I’ll feel sorry for you? I’ve told you a thousand times, Althea is my friend. That’s it. Do you enjoy this?” “I’ve explained everything. Believe it or not, I don’t care anymore!” To him, I was still the villain who had caused the crash, a madwoman using my own child’s life as a pawn. Despair washed over me, a cold wave extinguishing the last embers of hope. I was too broken to even try to explain. I just grabbed his ankle, a desperate, silent plea for him to see that this wasn’t an act, that I was dying. He paused for only a second before a cold, cynical laugh escaped his lips. He lifted the hem of my bloody dress. “The blood pack looks pretty realistic,” he sneered. “If Althea hadn’t told me you were planning something, I might have actually fallen for it.” With that, he turned and walked away without a second glance. The whispers of the paramedics floated around me. “Wait… that doesn’t look like blood from a pack, does it?” “You think the baby’s really in trouble?” “Forget it. Althea said she got it from the hospital’s blood bank, of course it looks real. If she wants to play make-believe, let her. She’ll be the one who kills her own kid.” Someone, tired of the spectacle, kicked me in the side. The impact flipped me over, and my face slammed into the gritty asphalt. Darkness consumed me. In the blackness, a dream took me back to the day I first met Eric. He was giving a lecture at my university on emergency first aid, a star doctor from the city’s top hospital. Tall, handsome, brilliant—he captured the hearts of half the girls in the auditorium. Including me. It was love at first sight. I did everything I could to find a way to talk to him. I was still in college then, a naive kid in his sophisticated world. He turned down every other girl who approached him, but he accepted my friend request. He told me he saw his friend in me, a shared innocence. I didn’t understand then. The very thing that made me special in his eyes was also the cage he’d built for me. I didn’t know about his twisted history with Althea. I was just ecstatic, thinking I was the one. For that scrap of his attention, I pursued him relentlessly. He never said yes, but he never said no, either. I mistook his tolerance for encouragement and fell deeper and deeper. After the hundredth time I asked him out, he finally agreed. I’ll never forget the pure joy of that day. I had no idea it was the beginning of a nightmare. Once we were together, he grew colder, always finding excuses to avoid intimacy. It was for my own good, he said. We should wait until after the wedding. I loved him, so I believed him. Then, the night before our wedding, an email arrived from Althea. That’s when I learned the truth. He wouldn’t touch me because I looked like her. Her email was a brutal collage of their ten-year love affair. They couldn’t be together because their families disapproved, so they’d made a pact to remain “friends” forever, always in each other’s lives. And he had chosen me, the perfect stand-in. Looking at a decade of their shared memories, my heart shattered. On our wedding night, Eric got drunk. For the first time, he came to me willingly. And at the height of his passion, he whispered her name. Althea. I swallowed my tears and played my part. Even after Althea’s supposed death in the other timeline, when he seemed so calm, I thought he had finally moved on. I thought my time had finally come. But as I died by his hand, the truth became brutally clear. From start to finish, I was nothing but a replacement. A convenient cover for his undying love for Althea. When I woke up, I was in a hospital room. It wasn’t Eric by my bedside, but a stranger. “Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed with concern. “I was driving by the accident. I saw you lying there all alone and brought you here. I was going to call an ambulance, but some guy said they’d already come and gone…” His voice hardened with anger. “I don’t know what’s wrong with those paramedics. Leaving a person bleeding on the ground! And all those people just standing around, watching… If I hadn’t brought you in, you might be dead right now!” I tried to move, my limbs stiff and sore. I placed a hand on my stomach and froze. The familiar, rounded firmness was gone. “I’m so sorry,” the man said, his voice soft with pity. “I got here too late. The doctors said… they said the baby was likely gone at the scene.” A bitter smile twisted my lips. I shook my head. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s not your fault. I know.” After a long silence, he poured me a glass of water. “Why were you, a pregnant woman, out in a car by yourself? Doesn’t your family care?” He paused. “The baby’s father should be here. Give me his number, I’ll call him. These doctors have no professional ethics! I can’t leave you here alone. I’m going to post about this online, expose them. These… these cancers of the medical profession need to be cut out!” Remembering Eric’s cold, sneering face as he walked away, I said flatly, “The baby’s father is dead.” The man, thinking he’d stumbled onto a fresh wound, immediately started apologizing. I drank the water and told him it was fine. He wanted to stay and look after me, but I insisted he leave after I transferred him the money for the hospital fees. He had barely walked out the door when a nurse came in to change my IV drip. She glanced at the name on my chart. “Your name is Leah, too?” she asked, her voice cautious. “What a coincidence. One of our doctors, Eric Cole, his wife has the same name. Do you know him?” I shook my head. She let out a visible sigh of relief. “Oh, good. I hear his wife is… not a very nice person. Nothing like you, you seem so quiet and gentle…” I said nothing. After she left, I pulled out my phone and checked the news. The kind stranger had kept his word. His post about the ER team’s negligence had gone viral. A photo of me, lying helpless at the crash site, was trending. The comments were a firestorm of outrage against the hospital. A hospital employee tried to do damage control, explaining that I was a doctor’s wife. That only poured gasoline on the fire. A doctor’s wife doesn’t deserve to be saved? So it’s okay to just leave your own family to die at an accident scene? If a doctor can’t even be trusted to care for his own injured wife and child, how can any patient trust him with their life? Someone else posted a photo they’d taken from another angle. It clearly showed Eric kicking me. The internet exploded. People flooded the hospital’s official social media accounts, demanding answers. I liked every single one of their comments. I was about to text Eric about the divorce when I saw Althea’s post from two hours earlier. It was a photo of Eric, his gaze filled with a tenderness I had never seen, carefully cleaning a small cut on her hand. The caption read: “So lucky you’re my friend for life, my family without blood ties. Not even death can part us.” I casually liked her post. A second later, my phone rang. It was Eric. “Leah, what the hell is your problem?” he roared. “Why are you harassing Althea? If you have an issue, you take it up with me! She barely survived what you did today, and you’re still going after her? You push her again, and I swear, we are done!” “I put up with your nonsense before, but you don’t get to play with people’s lives! Do you even realize what you did? That’s attempted murder! Are you insane?” “Althea said she forgives you, but that doesn’t mean I do! I’m giving you one last chance. Apologize to her. Now.” Before I could speak, I heard Althea’s theatrical sobs in the background. “Eric, stop, don’t blame her. It was my fault. If I had just let her have the wheel when she grabbed for it, this wouldn’t have happened. Pregnant women get emotional, I understand.” Eric’s voice softened with pity. “You’re my friend, Althea. Why should you have to put up with this? She’s an outsider. What right does she have to treat you like this? Don’t enable her. This time, she needs to learn her lesson.” While the two of them continued their nauseating drama, I spoke, my voice calm and clear. “Fine. Let’s get a divorce. I agree. This outsider won’t get in your way anymore.” Eric was stunned into silence. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be the one to end it. After a two-second pause, his rage erupted. I hung up before he could start screaming. I hadn’t even had time to block his number before a flood of texts came through. “You’re the one who caused the crash by grabbing the wheel. I haven’t even blamed you yet, and you have the nerve to ask for a divorce?” “You’re a murderer, Leah. You should be on your knees thanking me for not calling the cops. Don’t push your luck.” “Get those posts offline. Now. Don’t make me expose you for the psycho you really are.” I didn’t read any more. I deleted the messages and blocked his number. Later, the nurses who came to check on me were chatting amongst themselves, unaware of my identity. “Did you see the news online? I heard it’s Dr. Cole’s wife acting up again. Talk about having the same name but different fates. If she were half as gentle as our Leah here, none of this would be happening.” “I know, right? They’ve been friends for over ten years. What is she so jealous about? She must be mentally ill. That would explain why she’d cause a car crash on purpose.” “Poor Dr. Cole and his friend, getting stuck with a lunatic like that…” I listened numbly, nodding along when it seemed appropriate. But the online furor was too intense. The truth was bound to come out. The hospital administration figured out who I was. A few of them came to “visit” me, gently probing to see if I would be willing to make a public statement to clear the air. They said Eric had taken an emergency leave of absence and they couldn’t reach him. I refused every time. Eventually, they stopped asking and just started blaming me, muttering that I had brought this all on myself. Then, the hospital released an official video, shifting the entire blame for the accident onto my shoulders. To minimize the PR damage, they concealed the fact that I had been seriously injured and had a miscarriage. They painted a picture of a jealous, hysterical wife who had staged a car crash to hurt her husband’s friend, wasting precious medical resources and subjecting their star doctor to a vicious online mob. The same people who had championed my cause turned on me instantly. Learning I was supposedly just a jealous wife, they questioned my sanity. The mob that had attacked the ER department now directed all their venom at me. I became a pariah. They even started an online group, a “Take Down the Venomous Wife Alliance,” or something equally charming. Every few days, a new group of them would show up outside my hospital room to scream obscenities and throw things at my door. Through it all, I never said a word in my own defense. I was waiting. Waiting for the day Eric and Althea’s “friendship” was exposed for what it truly was, and for the world to see their reaction. The day the doctor told me I could be discharged, I unblocked Eric’s number and sent him a single text. “City Hall. Tomorrow. For the divorce.” I was about to block him again when his call came through. “You have the nerve to message me?” he spat. “What, now that you’re the most hated woman on the internet, you finally realize you were wrong? It’s too late for regrets.” “A divorce? Fine by me! I’m sick of you, you psycho! You’re a goddamn lunatic! And don’t even think about seeing the child after it’s born. A monster like you doesn’t deserve to be a mother.” He hung up before I could say a word. I called a mechanic and asked him to retrieve and copy the dashcam footage from my car. The next morning, I arrived at City Hall on time. And there, at the entrance, was Althea. Her eyes dropped to my stomach, and her face broke into a mask of feigned surprise. “Oh, my. What happened to the little bastard? Such a shame. But with a mother who can’t even keep her man, it was probably doomed from the start. A short, pathetic life for a short, pathetic reason. Even if it had been born, it would have just been another fatherless orphan…” Before my brain could even process the words, my hand had already flown across her face. I hadn’t even hit her that hard, but she crumpled to the ground, fat tears instantly welling in her eyes. “Althea!” Eric rushed past me from behind, shoving me so hard I stumbled backward into the middle of the street. A car screeched to a halt, its bumper inches from my head. He cradled Althea in his arms, then, as if remembering something, he whipped his head around to look at me. His gaze fell on my now-flat stomach, and all the color drained from his face. “The baby,” he choked out. “Where’s the baby?!” I struggled to my feet, a grim satisfaction blooming in my chest as I watched the panic dawn on his face. “The baby? You remember you had a child?” I asked, my voice dripping with ice. “You said I don’t deserve to be a mother. Do you deserve to be a father? When I was bleeding out after the crash, where were you? When the entire world was calling me a monster, where were you? When I was on an operating table, unconscious, needing my husband’s signature for emergency surgery, where were you, Eric?” His face grew paler with every word. My voice dropped to a frigid whisper. “The baby is gone, Eric. Thanks to you.” “And now, our marriage is, too.” A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by rage. “Don’t you dare try to play the victim here! You brought all of this on yourself!” “You caused that accident! Althea was the one who was nearly killed, and she’s the one who forgave you! And now you have the audacity to try and pin this on me?” “Leah, how did I never see how shameless you are?” He took a step closer, his voice a low growl. “What happened to the baby? I’m asking you one last time.” A small crowd had started to gather. Someone recognized me from the news. The pointing and muttering began. “That’s her! The psycho wife who tried to kill someone out of jealousy!” “Look at her, she looks so normal. How can she be so evil?” “Dr. Cole must have the worst luck in the world, getting stuck with a venomous snake like her. If I were him, I’d have had a heart attack by now!” “And she has the nerve to blame him? After what she did? She almost killed someone! I thought this only happened in soap operas. They should lock her up in a mental hospital before she hurts someone else!” …

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My husband’s business empire crumbled, a casualty of failed investments and crushing debt. I decided to sell the gold jewelry he’d given me over the years, one piece for every anniversary. I wanted to see how much of a dent it could make in his financial ruin. That’s when I was told it was all fake. Next, I went to a real estate agent for a property appraisal. He pulled up the records right in front of me. The deed was a forgery. But the house—a five-million-dollar property—was a wedding gift from Kevin. He’d promised it would be in my name, and my name alone. What else was a lie? On a whim, I snapped a photo of our marriage certificate and sent it to my best friend, Lily, who worked at the county records office. Her reply came back in minutes. “Fake.” I stared at the crimson-bordered certificate, the official-looking seal, and a laugh escaped my lips, brittle and sharp. “Thank God,” I whispered. “It was all fake.” 1 My heart hammered against my ribs as I waited for Lily’s final confirmation. In the five years I’d been married to Kevin, I had never once doubted his love for me. His work was demanding, and he often missed our anniversaries, but he always made up for it. He’d shower me with lavish gifts as compensation, and in the days that followed, he’d be doubly attentive, doting on me. I never questioned the authenticity of those gifts. He was my husband. I loved him unconditionally. So I’d spent the entire day, from sunrise to sunset, clutching the tokens of his affection, visiting one high-end boutique after another. I’d grilled every clerk, my last shred of hope evaporating with each sympathetic shake of the head. The final blow came when a jeweler, to prove his point, held a piece of the “gold” to a flame. It blackened and crumbled into ash. The blade that had been hanging over my head finally fell. I steadied myself against the polished glass counter. “Then why,” I asked, my voice trembling slightly, “does it have a receipt from your store?” The clerk checked his system. “The receipt is real, ma’am,” he said gently. “But the jewelry you brought in isn’t ours.” So Kevin had bought the real pieces. He just hadn’t given them to me. I stared at the forged property deed in my hand and dialed the city’s land registry office. “I’d like to check the owner’s name for the property at One Riverside Drive, Apartment 101.” “Of course, one moment please,” a calm voice replied. Just then, my phone buzzed with Lily’s final, damning message. It was the death sentence for my marriage. “Julie, it’s a fake. But I checked Kevin’s records. He has a legally valid, existing marriage. The woman’s name is… Jasmine Vance.” The voice from the land registry returned. “Ma’am, the registered owner of that property is a Ms. Jasmine Vance.” Ten years ago, I had defied my parents to be with him. I’d packed my savings and moved from the quiet South to this bustling northern city to build a life with him. Back then, Kevin’s career was just taking off, and he was out networking until the early hours of the morning. To make him more comfortable when he stumbled home, drunk and exhausted, I’d wait up for him every night with a thermos of hot, soothing broth. For a decade, I never once slacked. I appreciated how hard he worked to provide for us, so I took on everything at home. I was the cook, the cleaner, the planner. He never once set foot in the kitchen. As his business thrived, the smoke and fire of my domestic life slowly transformed me into the weary, worn-out housewife he now seemed to despise. The years of household labor left me with a chronic ache in my lower back; sometimes if I bent over for too long, I couldn’t straighten up. He’d say he didn’t mind, but whenever his gaze fell on me, I’d catch the flicker of aversion before he looked away. I told myself it didn’t matter. As long as we were together, everything was fine. But the husband I thought loved me down to my bones had been living a sweet, secret life with someone else for the entire decade. Jasmine Vance. Kevin’s high school sweetheart, the one that got away. Now, she was a massively popular influencer. She’d started out with suggestive, borderline-NSFW live streams but had recently rebranded, championing a new philosophy she called “Single and Sovereign.” She preached to her legions of devoted followers that being an unmarried woman was the ultimate form of empowerment, a life of freedom to be enjoyed to the fullest. Just last week, she was trending for her “unapologetically unattached” lifestyle. I opened TikTok and found her profile. A single account had liked every single one of her videos. A quick search confirmed it: the account was linked to Kevin’s phone number. They even had matching profile pictures, a subtle couple’s set. I used to make silly videos myself, nudging him to like them like other couples did. He wouldn’t even glance at my screen, his face a mask of annoyance. “Look at that filter, Julie. It’s embarrassing. Besides, I don’t even have a TikTok.” But under Jasmine’s very first video, he had commented: “Stunning.” I looked at my own reflection in the mirror and saw a ghost of the woman I was ten years ago. I thought my devotion would be seen, would be cherished. I never imagined he didn’t even want to look. Just then, the front door clicked open. Kevin was home. He dropped onto the sofa in silence, waiting for me to scurry over with a hot drink, as I always did. When I didn’t move, he huffed, got up, and began rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. “Where do you keep the water?” he finally barked, his voice laced with impatience. Of course. After all these years, he didn’t even know where to find a glass of water. This man, who had never lifted a finger at home, had meticulously schemed to buy fake jewelry and forge official documents just to deceive me. What was I to him? An unpaid maid? I tossed my phone onto the coffee table in front of him. “Kevin, I thought you didn’t have a TikTok account. Then why have you liked every single one of Jasmine Vance’s videos? I checked. The account is registered to your phone number.” He looked startled, as if it had never occurred to him that I might check. He had been so brazen because he thought I was blind. After a long moment, he finally muttered, “It’s just business.” “Business? You’re too busy to look at your phone? You take hours to reply to my texts, but you have time to—” “Will you drop it?!” he snapped. “Her career depends on engagement and traffic. What’s the big deal if I give her a like?” It was just like before we were married, when Jasmine’s shadow loomed over our lives. Kevin remembered she was afraid of thunderstorms and would video chat with her every time it rained, even though I’d told him, countless times, that I was scared of them too. He knew all her favorite foods, and over time, they somehow became my favorite foods too. After we got married, I threw a few tantrums about it, and he finally seemed to back off. I thought his heart was finally mine. I never realized they had just found a new, more discreet way to be together. Despair washed over me. I turned and walked into the bedroom to pack. “Sweetie, I’ve got the paperwork for the capital injection into Kevin’s company almost finalized. Just waiting on your go-ahead.” It was my father on the phone. I was in the middle of stuffing clothes into a suitcase. I let out a long sigh. “Dad, cancel it. We’re not investing.” “What happened? I thought he was having cash flow problems. Tell me, did that boy do something to hurt you? I told you not to run off so far away, all alone with no one to fall back on, but you wouldn’t listen…” “No, it’s not that. I’m just… a little tired.” “My dear girl,” he said, his voice softening. “If you’re tired, you come home. Dad will take care of you.” Before I moved to this city for Kevin, I’d tested the waters, but he’d always claimed he was too busy with work to even visit my parents once. When we got married, I had a huge falling out with my family, and they didn’t attend the wedding. So, to this day, Kevin had never met them. He believed I was utterly alone, with no one to rely on but him. But what fight between a father and daughter can’t be mended? Years ago, Dad had secretly come to see me, and we had long since reconciled. When I learned Kevin’s company was in trouble, I had prepared a two-pronged plan: first, I would liquidate my own assets to help him pay off his debts; second, I would have my father inject capital to get his company flowing again. A few days ago, Kevin had excitedly told me that an investor from the South had contacted him, and the company was saved. I was genuinely happy for him, smiling and congratulating him, believing I would soon see that confident, ambitious man again. I never imagined that in this marriage I had poured my entire soul into, I was the most insignificant person in his eyes. When I walked out with my suitcase, Kevin looked baffled. “What is this? Are you really doing this over a TikTok account? Seriously? Besides, you don’t know anyone in this city. Where are you even going to stay?” I didn’t answer. I just walked out the door and didn’t look back. But Kevin followed me. I knew exactly what he was thinking. With the investment on the line, he couldn’t afford any drama. He’d once told me that these southern entrepreneurs valued character above all else, and the most direct reflection of a man’s character was his family life. Kevin followed me into my hotel room, his eyes scanning the luxurious suite. “You rented a place this nice? This must cost a fortune.” I just smiled and shook my head. This apartment, located in the heart of downtown, was worth millions. My father had secretly bought it for me the year I got married. After we reconciled, he had the deed transferred to my name. And this wasn’t all. I had over a dozen other properties in my name back south. I had originally planned to use these assets to help Kevin get back on his feet, no matter how badly his company failed. We could have started over. Now, I was just thankful I had decided to check on the gold jewelry first. What a close call. I had almost helped him rise from the ashes. Kevin sat rigidly on the sofa, waiting for me to fawn over him. He still believed he had done nothing wrong. I glanced at the tie he was wearing, a terrible mismatch with his shirt, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. For all these years, I had picked out every single one of his outfits. And all his love, he had given to Jasmine. “Julie, stop this nonsense. Come home with me,” he said, reaching for my hand. I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, his fingers digging into my wrist. It hurt. “Kevin, what are you doing?!” “I said, come home with me!” I twisted my wrist sharply, breaking his grip. “And what gives you the right to take me anywhere?” He sneered. “What right? We’ve been married for five years. We are a legally married couple!” His eyes were firm, confident. “What kind of wife just walks out like this?” “Is that so? A legally married couple?” “Of course!” That’s when I threw the crimson-bordered certificate on the table. “You mean, with this marriage certificate? The one with a forged seal?” His face went pale. “You… you…” “I had Lily check. Your legal wife’s name is Jasmine Vance.” I watched his expression shift from shock to panic. He tried to deny it. “That friend of yours is just jealous of us, she’s lying to you! You can’t just believe everything she says.” I was prepared for this. I pulled out my phone and showed him the official registration document Lily had sent me. The name ‘Jasmine Vance’ was printed neatly right next to his. His face fell. “Julie, listen to me. I didn’t mean to deceive you. It’s just… she was threatening to kill herself. I did it to calm her down, that’s all… But I’ve been with you all these years! You’re the one I love, you know that!” I let out a cold laugh. “So the fake jewelry, the forged deed… you call that love?” Kevin wouldn’t leave. He kept stammering, pleading with me to go back with him. Perhaps he had forgotten that before I became his wife, I was a doctoral candidate in law. I picked up my phone. “Mr. Hayes, if you don’t leave now, I’m calling the police.” After Kevin left, I stretched out on the plush king-sized bed. So this is what it felt like to do nothing for a whole day. The release of tension was so complete that I fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake until dusk. When I did, my phone was blowing up with hundreds of notifications. I thought maybe one of my old, silly videos had gone viral. But when I opened TikTok, I saw my inbox was flooded with vicious messages from strangers. “You’re just a housewife, what gives you the right to throw a tantrum!” “You think you can compete with our Jasmine? She’s a queen, single and sovereign!” “Get lost, you bitter hag. Stop trying to ride Jasmine’s coattails!” “With a face like that, playing the victim is your only move. Just leave our Jasmine out of it!” … Confused, I started searching online. Jasmine streamed every day, and screenshots were everywhere. It didn’t take long to find it. During her latest stream, Kevin had suddenly appeared on camera and launched into a tirade, painting me as a freeloader who had lived off him for a decade, now throwing a fit and running away from home over nothing. Jasmine fanned the flames. “It’s just typical little-woman drama. She’ll cry for a day or two and be back home in a week, guaranteed.” Then, feigning innocence, she added, “He’s just my buddy, everyone, don’t get the wrong idea.” It was clear she had no intention of making their real relationship public. At the end of the stream, Jasmine even shared my TikTok handle, encouraging her fans to “go talk some sense into her.” Kevin thought this public humiliation would break me, that I’d come crawling back to be his beast of burden. The last message in my inbox was from Jasmine herself.

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The tour bus carrying my mother-in-law and son overturned on a winding mountain road. The entire vehicle was caught on a tree, dangling precariously over a cliff, ready to plummet at any moment. My husband, Mark, was the captain of the nearest rescue squad. But when the police called for aid, they discovered he’d taken his entire team off-duty to attend his old flame’s son’s school competition. In my last life, I had to beg a friend to physically drag him from that school to save our family. But because his old flame’s son didn’t win first place, she felt humiliated and cut ties with him completely. Mark was also fired from the rescue squad for his dereliction of duty. After my mother-in-law and son were discharged from the hospital, he tied me and my friend up and threw us from that same cliff. “If it weren’t for you,” he’d screamed, “I wouldn’t have lost everything!” This time, his old flame’s son won his first-place trophy. But this time, Mark would never smile again. 1 The piercing wail of sirens sliced through the air. A sharp, urgent rapping on my car window startled me. “Ma’am, have you called for rescue?” A jolt shot through me. I turned, staring blankly at the scene before me, the chaos slowly registering. It took a moment to realize what had happened. I had been reborn. In my previous life, my mother-in-law had forgotten her scarf and called for me to bring it to her. By the time I arrived, the tour bus had already left. She told me to just follow them in my car. Then, chaos. I never knew what happened, but the bus ahead of me suddenly swerved, lost control, and plunged off the side of the mountain. I had frantically called my husband, Mark, but he’d hung up on me with an irritated sigh. I’d then called the official emergency line, only to be told that Mark had taken his entire squad off the clock to attend an event at his old flame Evelyn’s son’s school. The police officer’s voice pulled me back to the present. My hand tightened on my phone. The phantom pain of my own bones shattering on the rocks below still lingered. Seeing my stunned silence, the officer must have thought I was in shock. He pulled out his own phone and made the call right in front of me. He received the exact same answer I had in my past life. Just then, my phone rang, a desperate, tinny sound. It was my mother-in-law. “Claire! You have to save me and Leo! My battery is about to die! Call Mark, tell him to come save us!” The officer leaned in. “You have family on that bus?” “Yes,” I said, my voice shaking. “My mother-in-law and my son. My husband is Mark, the captain of the local rescue squad.” “Then call him! Now! We’ll contact other units in the meantime.” I dialed Mark’s number, the officer watching me intently. It rang for a long time before he finally picked up. His voice, the one I had come to despise, crackled through the speaker. “Didn’t I tell you not to call me? I’m cheering for Zac right now!” “Mark, the bus Mom and Leo were on went off a cliff,” I said, my voice tight with urgency. “It’s caught on a tree, but it won’t hold for long. You have to come now!” Suddenly, another voice took over the line—Evelyn’s. “Claire, please, have a heart. Zac doesn’t have a father. It means so much to him to have Mark and his team here, cheering him on. Please don’t make him leave. I don’t want to ruin this for my son.” She continued, her voice taking on a martyred tone. “I know you’ve always been insecure about our past, but I promised you I would never interfere with your family. You don’t have to lie like this to get him to leave. If it makes you feel better, I’ll never contact him again after today.” Her voice broke into a sob. Mark snatched the phone back, his voice thick with rage. “You’d use my own mother and son to lie? Are you even human, Claire? The more you act like this, the less I ever want to come back to that house! I’m warning you, don’t bother me again today!” He was about to hang up when the officer took the phone from my hand. “This is Officer Miller with the Westbrook Police Department. Your wife is not lying. The situation here is critical. I’ve already contacted your squad’s dispatch, and they confirmed your entire unit is off-site. I need you and your team back here immediately. There are thirty-four lives hanging in the balance!” But the phone only erupted in a chorus of jeers from Mark’s men. “Who is this guy?” one of them slurred. “I know people at Westbrook PD. Never heard of an Officer Miller.” “Yeah, Captain’s on a pretty short leash at home,” another chimed in. “Can’t you give the guy a break? And making up a story is one thing, but why call the squad? You trying to get us all in trouble?” Even Officer Miller’s face flushed with anger at their blatant disrespect. I leaned in and whispered to him, “Please, just call another unit. That bus doesn’t have much time.” In my last life, they hadn’t believed me either. The school was close, so I had called my friend Nathan, who worked nearby. He had rushed over and found the principal, forcing Mark and his team to return. But in the end, that act of kindness had only gotten both of us killed. This time, I wouldn’t drag an innocent person down with me. But Mark had overheard my whisper. His voice turned venomous. “Enough, Claire! Who else are you going to drag into this? I know every firefighter and rescue worker in a fifty-mile radius. You dare call any of them, and I swear, I’ll show you what happens to liars!” 2 He slammed the phone down. Officer Miller was livid. “I don’t believe this. Does this guy think he’s some kind of king, that a mere squad captain can just ignore a direct order?” He started furiously dialing numbers on his own phone. I sighed. The sad truth was, Mark did have that kind of influence. He’d worked at nearly every fire station in the area. He could never get promoted, so he’d finally jumped ship when the new rescue squad offered him a captaincy right out of the gate. “It’s better to call a team from further away,” I urged. “We’re running out of time.” I knew from my past life that the bus, including rescue time, had held on for exactly forty minutes before it fell. Even with Mark’s team arriving relatively quickly back then, half the passengers had still plunged to their deaths. They could have saved everyone. But because his mother and son were at the back of the bus, he’d recklessly focused on them first. His actions unbalanced the vehicle, snapping a crucial branch and accelerating its fall. This time, even without his interference, the bus had an hour at most. A team from the next county would take about forty minutes to get here. It was tight, but at least some lives could be saved. As if on cue, my phone rang again. It was Kevin, one of Mark’s former colleagues and a frequent dinner guest at our house. “Claire, you’re putting me in a tough spot,” he said, his voice wheedling. “You and Mark shouldn’t let your little fights get this big.” “Dispatch just assigned us the call, and then Mark called me personally. You know, filing a false police report is a serious offense. You’re wasting emergency resources.” Officer Miller snatched the phone, furious. “I am the one who called dispatch. This is Officer Miller from the Westbrook PD—” Kevin cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, save it. Mark told me about you. There’s no Miller at Westbrook. Tell Claire to stop the theatrics. I’m doing her a favor here. I already had the alert cancelled for her.” 3 My mother-in-law called again. The background was filled with screams of terror. “Help us! Did you call Mark or not?” “I did, Mom. He’s not coming.” A torrent of abuse erupted from the phone. “You useless waste of space! I told Mark he never should have married you! You can’t even do one simple thing right!” Then, my son Leo’s voice, sharp and cruel. “Mom, why are you so useless? If Mommy Evelyn were here, she would have made Dad come save us by now!” Tears streamed down my face, hot and immediate. This was the family I had poured my heart and soul into maintaining. A husband who only had eyes for his old flame, a mother-in-law who despised my very existence, and a son—a son who had been turned against me, who called another woman ‘Mommy.’ My mother-in-law had always preferred Evelyn, the gentle, domestic type. I was a media executive, a career woman who had to network and meet clients. I couldn’t be like Evelyn, revolving my entire life around Mark. But for years, I was the one who paid for the house, the cars, every single expense. I made sure they had the best of everything, and in return, I received not a single shred of gratitude. I had wanted to make it work, to hold our family together. When my mother-in-law was bedridden after a surgery, I took a long leave of absence to be her full-time caregiver, handling everything from her meals to her bedpan. Her attitude had just started to soften when Evelyn reappeared with a son in tow. My mother-in-law not only rented an apartment for them in our neighborhood but also insisted they come to our house for meals every single day. Evelyn won my son over with junk food and cheap toys, turning him against me to the point where, for a long time, he called her ‘Mommy’ and referred to me only by my first name. Mark had taken our entire life savings and used it to buy Evelyn and her son a large house. “Don’t overthink it, Claire,” he’d said. “I owe this to her. As my wife, you should share this burden with me.” I was furious, but for the sake of a love I thought was real, for the memory of our first three happy years together, I had endured it. I never imagined my endurance would cost me my life. Suddenly, a rock flew through the air and struck my forehead. A warm trickle of blood ran down my face. Several other family members of the passengers had arrived, and they were throwing whatever they could find at me. “My mother is on that bus! She called me and said your husband is the rescue captain! Why isn’t he here?” “He has no right to abandon his post! This is negligent homicide! If my mom dies, I’ll make sure your whole family pays!” Clutching my bleeding head, I scrambled back into my car and tried to video call Mark. He declined it instantly and sent a text. “Stop your games! Do you want a divorce? Is that it?” Then, he blocked me. I tried his teammates. I tried Evelyn. One by one, I found myself blocked by all of them. I called my mother-in-law’s number again. It went straight to voicemail. Her phone was dead. It seems fate has made its decision, I thought, a cold resignation washing over me. I’ve done all I can. 4 The chaos outside intensified. Someone screamed, “It’s slipping! The bus is slipping! It’s not going to hold!” Despite the hatred churning in my gut, I couldn’t bear to watch all those innocent people die. I rushed out of the car and looked down at the horrifying scene. As a last resort, I called Nathan. Before I could even speak, his voice came through, urgent and breathless. “I’m almost there! I’ve got a chopper! Just hold on!” I was stunned, but he hung up before I could ask any questions. Moments later, a helicopter appeared in the distance, flying directly over the teetering bus. Nathan was the first one to rappel down, beginning the rescue. I could see his equipment wasn’t standard-issue, and someone in the helicopter was frantically giving him hand signals. But his presence was a beacon of hope for everyone. I heard my mother-in-law screaming from a window at the back of the bus. “Save me first! Are you deaf? I’m an old woman! Save me!” But I also heard the commander in the helicopter shouting to Nathan, “Follow my instructions, or you’ll send everyone plunging to their deaths!” The process was slow, but Nathan was calm and methodical, bringing people up one by one. We all stood on the roadside, holding our breath for him. Twenty minutes later, the roar of more helicopters filled the sky. The professional rescue teams had finally arrived. Tears of relief streamed down my face. The other families were embracing, sobbing with joy. “They’re saved! They’re saved!” I glanced at my phone. My heart lurched. There were only twenty minutes left before the bus would fall. In my past life, only two helicopters had come, and with Mark’s reckless interference, many hadn’t been saved. But this time, with so many rescuers, maybe twenty minutes would be enough. I stared at my phone, the timer on the screen a torturous countdown. With five minutes left, everyone had been rescued except for my mother-in-law and Leo, who were at the very back of the bus. A rescuer lowered a harness to them, instructing her to secure herself and Leo. But my mother-in-law threw a fit. “What kind of terrible service is this? You expect us to do it ourselves? Stop wasting time and get down here and strap us in! What if we do it wrong and fall? Will you take responsibility then?” The bus was tilted at such a precarious angle that the weight of one more person would send it over the edge. The rescuer pleaded with her, but she refused to listen, arguing relentlessly. As they argued, the countdown on my phone hit zero.

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The day I returned, an airline official said there was a problem with my luggage. They led me to a private room. When the door opened, the scent of roses overwhelmed me—the floor covered in red petals. And there was Ethan, my Ethan, the man I once thought was the love of my life, kneeling with a ring, his eyes full of longing. The Grant family erupted in cheers. “Marry him! Say yes!” Everyone expected me to cry and whisper “I do.” After all, I’d spent five years worshipping him before he noticed me. But they’d forgotten. Forgotten how, three years ago, Ethan accused me of plagiarizing his protégé’s work. Forgotten how he reported me for alcoholism, blaming me for a patient’s death. I was thrown out like trash, beaten by the grieving family outside. With every door closed, I fled the country to rebuild my life. Now, Ethan’s father claimed, “He spent everything to clear your name. He’s waited for you, crying over your photo.” I stayed silent, my gaze drifting to my bag—to the marriage certificate inside. 1 “That whole incident was a huge mess, Audrey. You had to give him time to sort things out. Why did you just run off in a huff?” “He’s been a wreck these past three years because you left without a word. He barely eats, barely sleeps. He’s torn this city apart looking for you.” From the moment I’d been ushered into this room, Mr. Grant had been clinging to my hand, his words a relentless stream. He had aged considerably in three years. The sharp, judgmental glare he used to give me—the one that screamed I wasn’t good enough for his son—was gone, replaced by a weary sadness. But his words were still as sharp as ever. He was trying to paint his son as a tragic romantic hero, but all I heard was blame. Honestly, the name ‘Ethan’ sounded foreign to me now. Three years is a long time. More than enough to wash away a past that was never worth remembering in the first place. It was obvious they had no idea I was married. I gently pulled my hand from Mr. Grant’s grasp, my expression a placid mask. “Mr. Grant, Ethan and I ended things three years ago. I don’t understand why you’re telling me any of this.” The Grants stared at me, their faces a collective mask of disbelief. This was not the reaction they had anticipated from the girl who once would have done anything for Ethan. The girl who had thrown away an acceptance letter from Johns Hopkins just to work at the same city hospital as him. Just to be near him. Just to take care of him. Being a doctor is a grueling profession, but I made sure he had three home-cooked meals a day. I took on his extra surgeries to ease his workload, even when I was so exhausted I could barely stand by the end of my own shifts. I even put his name on my research papers so he could get promoted faster, forcing myself through sleepless night after sleepless night, my body growing paler and more fragile. But when Ethan finally accepted my proposal, none of it mattered. It was all worth it. Suddenly, my life was a dream. I’d return to my office to find a hot coffee on my desk, a small note with his sweet words scrawled on it. When a patient’s family got aggressive, he would step in, a solid wall of protection. As our wedding day approached, we’d spend hours planning our honeymoon, picking out venues together. He once fought with the hospital director just to get a day off so we could go try on wedding dresses. I remember the look in his eyes as I twirled on the platform in a cloud of white lace—pure, unadulterated adoration. Even the shop assistant sighed, “I’ve never seen a couple so in love.” Back then, I truly believed I must have saved a nation in a past life to deserve a man like him. And then, a new doctor transferred to our department. Her name was Chloe. From that day on, Ethan stopped talking about the wedding. The coffee on my desk disappeared. At first, I told myself he was just busy, mentoring the new subordinate. I didn’t want to bother him. But then the venue coordinator called, saying they needed Ethan’s final signature. I had no choice but to knock on his office door. He sighed, annoyed. “It’s such a hassle. Can’t you just sign for me?” But when I arrived at the venue, the coordinator handed me two contracts. One for me. And one for Chloe. The groom’s name on both was Ethan Grant. 2 My hand, clutching the papers, was slick with sweat. It’s just a coincidence, I told myself, a simple mix-up of names. But when I returned to the hospital, I found my colleagues gathered around, each holding a small box of wedding candy. They were showering Chloe with congratulations on her marriage. And Ethan… Ethan was leaning against the far wall, a soft, tender smile on his face as he watched the girl at the center of the crowd. In that moment, it felt like a scalpel had plunged straight into my heart. The pain was so sharp I couldn’t breathe. He turned, and his eyes met mine. He saw the tears welling up, the crimson blush of betrayal on my face, but there wasn’t a flicker of sympathy in his expression. Just a cool, detached inquiry. “You’re back already? Did you get it signed?” My gaze swept over the laughing crowd, then back to him. I slapped the documents against his chest. “Which one are you talking about?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Mine? Or Chloe’s?” My accusation made him frown. “Can we talk about this at home? I’ll explain everything. Everyone’s having a good time right now. Don’t make a scene and ruin the mood.” A scene? Ruin the mood? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I couldn’t believe it. The man who was whispering “my wife” in my ear just a few nights ago was now standing here, humiliating me. Perhaps my laughter stung him, because a flash of guilt crossed his face. He softened his tone. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t overthink things.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a surgery now. I’ll come to your office as soon as I’m done, okay, Audrey?” He reached out, his hand gently patting my arm in a placating gesture. I flinched away, wiping the corner of my eye with the back of my hand as I turned to leave. “Fine,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. Ethan started to call after me, but he stopped himself. I waited in my office, staring blankly at a patient’s chart, the words blurring into meaningless shapes. I don’t know how much time passed before a knock came at the door. “Come in.” Ethan entered, holding a cup of coffee. “Brought you this. I heard you have a long surgery later. This should help.” I glanced at the cup. It was blank. No note. I gave a quiet “mmhmm.” “Chloe is my junior from medical school,” he began, his voice earnest. “Her family is very traditional, and they’ve been pressuring her to get married. A few days ago, her mother threatened to kill herself over it. She asked me to help her out, just for a little while.” He paused, watching my reaction. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d misunderstand.” I sipped the coffee, listening in silence. Finally, I asked, “So, you two are legally married?” He hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. Seeing the look on my face, he rushed to explain. “Don’t worry. As soon as I meet her parents and they’re satisfied, we’ll get a divorce. Chloe’s not the clingy type. She promised.” He sounded so sincere, but the whole story was just… insane. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Seeing my continued silence, he reached into the pocket of his white coat and pulled out a small box. He dropped to one knee, his eyes locked on mine. “Trust me, Audrey. You’re the only one I love.” His voice was a low, desperate plea. “I know this is hard on you. But once this is all over, I promise I’ll give you the grandest wedding you’ve ever seen.” Before I could even think to refuse, he slid a diamond ring onto my finger. Then he took out the matching band and put it on his own. The brilliant sparkle on my hand seemed to calm the storm in my heart, just a little. Maybe… maybe he really was just helping a friend. 3 He never wore that ring again. His excuse was flawless: he couldn’t wear it during surgery. He and Chloe became inseparable at the hospital, acting for all the world like a devoted couple. They were in the conference rooms together, the cafeteria, the hallways. They were the hospital’s golden couple. And I became the “crazy ex.” Rumors started to spread that I was a bitter mistress who couldn’t accept defeat. I was about to set the record straight when Chloe cornered me. She strolled up to me, hands stuffed in her pockets, a smug, challenging look in her eyes. “Dr. Lin,” she began, using my formal title, “Ethan is my husband. I hope you’ll stop bothering him from now on.” She smirked. “He told me everything. He only got with you because you hounded him relentlessly. No wonder a relationship built on begging is so fragile.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Do yourself a favor. Resign.” My nails dug into my palms, but my face remained a mask of calm. “Chloe, I have no intention of resigning. And you are not my superior. You don’t have the authority to fire me.” She laughed, a sharp, unpleasant sound. She pulled her hands from her pockets and crossed them over her chest. “Oh, really? Let’s make a bet, then. A bet on how you’ll be leaving this hospital.” I ignored her and simply showed her the door. That evening, I told Ethan everything. To my shock, he didn’t believe me. Instead, he turned on me. “I already told you I’m going to divorce her! Why can’t you just be patient? Why do you have to make up such ridiculous stories to attack her?” His voice rose with frustration. “She’s trying to force you to resign? Logically, isn’t it more likely that you’re the one trying to drive her away?” “Audrey, stop it. I’m trying to focus on my career right now. I thought you’d support me, help me, like you used to. The least you can do is not add to my stress.” … I hung up the phone. I pulled the ring from my finger and tossed it into the back of a drawer. Ethan was right. I needed to focus on my career. My own ambitions had stagnated while I poured all my energy into him. It was time to change that. I threw myself into studying for the annual board certification exams. In the weeks that followed, Ethan and I became ghosts to each other. We didn’t speak. We didn’t text. If we passed in the hallway, we were strangers, not even colleagues. Finally, the day of the exam results arrived. I was called into the director’s office. He slammed his fist on the desk, his face red with fury. The research paper I had submitted was identical, word for word, to Chloe’s. Faced with the accusation, I wasn’t nervous. I knew my work. I was a far more skilled researcher than she was. But no one in that room believed me. Someone shoved a phone in my face. It was Chloe’s social media feed, filled with daily updates on her “progress” with the paper. My colleagues had, in effect, watched her “write” it from scratch. A torrent of insults rained down on me. “Plagiarist.” “Thief.” My eyes scanned the room, past the accusing faces, until they landed on Ethan, standing at the very back. He deliberately avoided my gaze. And in that moment, I knew. There was only one other person in the world who knew the password to my computer. It was his birthday. The evidence was damning. The director demoted me on the spot. I ignored him. I pushed through the crowd of scornful colleagues and walked straight up to Ethan. I grabbed his chin and forced his head up, making him look at me. “Ethan,” I asked, my voice deadly calm, “do you also believe I copied her?” I saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes, a tiny hesitation before it was extinguished, replaced by a single, devastating word: “Yes.” A small, broken laugh escaped my lips. I let him go. As I turned away, my eyes burned so intensely I felt they could bleed. “Audrey…” I heard him call my name, his voice suddenly uncertain. But I didn’t stop. I walked straight out of that conference room and didn’t look back. After that day, my colleagues began to shun me completely. No one wanted to be associated with the “plagiarist,” the “homewrecker.” I didn’t care. I buried myself in my work, a phantom flitting between the office and the operating room. A demotion was nothing. I could climb my way back up. Until the day the director threw a letter in my face. An anonymous tip. An accusation that I had performed surgery while intoxicated, resulting in a patient’s death. For a moment, the world tilted. The words were English, but they made no sense. “Director, there must be a mistake,” I stammered. “That patient had a severe congenital heart defect. He was critical when he arrived.” The director didn’t speak. He just gestured to the witness he’d brought in. The anesthesiologist from that surgery—Chloe’s best friend. “Director, she’s Chloe’s closest friend! Chloe and I have a history. This is a setup!” “Enough!”

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1 Hooves pounded across the Royal Hunt grounds when Crown Prince Alaric’s arrow struck an orphan—Seraphina Moss, his disgraced mother’s niece. No one predicted he’d fall instantly in love. “She’ll be my princess,” he declared. Problem: he was engaged to me, Lady Evelyn of House Ashbourne. Alaric came to my estate, jaw set. “I bound her wounds. We touched. She’s ruined—she must marry me.” His gaze flicked to me. “You’re the Queen’s niece. You have options. Must you steal from a helpless girl?” As if a Ashbourne would fight for a man. Absurd. Before the scandal spread, a royal decree arrived: I’d keep the title of Crown Princess—but the role would go to another. … Prince Alaric stood in the grand hall of my family’s estate, his posture straight and proud. But his gaze never left the delicate figure of Seraphina Moss beside him. “Seraphina is fragile,” he announced to the assembled guests. “She has only just arrived in the capital, and she has already met with such a disaster. I injured her. If I do not marry her, how can she possibly go on?” “Lady Evelyn, you must understand. For a woman, honor is everything. Seraphina now has no other path but to marry me.” “If you have any compassion at all, you will agree to end our engagement.” So this was it. He had been smitten with her since that first glance at the hunt. For two months, he had kept it hidden, only to choose my birthday—of all days—to publicly humiliate me and my family. My father’s hands trembled, rattling the teacup he held. He cast aside all decorum. “Your Highness,” he demanded, “do you have any idea what this will do to Evelyn’s future? What of her honor?” “You begged the Emperor for this match yourself! The entire capital knows of your betrothal to my daughter. To come here now and break it… what does that make of House Ashbourne?” Seraphina, her face a mask of fear, tugged gently on Alaric’s sleeve. “Cousin, please, don’t argue with Lord Ashbourne on my account. I am not afraid of whispers and rumors. At worst, I shall take my own life. I could never bear to be a burden to you.” Alaric wrapped a protective arm around her. “Do not be afraid,” he murmured. “I will not let you face them alone.” Then, he looked at me, his expression a mixture of arrogance and disdain. “Lady Evelyn, you come from a noble house. Surely you would not deign to compete with Seraphina for a man. You have your pick of worthy suitors. To cling to this engagement would only make you appear desperate.” “Or perhaps,” he sneered, “you are just like all the other women in this city, greedy for the title of Crown Princess.” “Since our betrothal, you have refused every invitation to ride, every poetry gathering I have hosted. You’ve been cold and distant. It’s clear you were never happy with this match. Annuling it should be a relief for you.” The House of Ashbourne had never endured such an insult. I was speechless with rage. All I could do was retrieve the betrothal contract. “Your Highness. Here is the contract. From this day forward, our paths diverge. You are free to marry whom you please.” My gaze fell on Seraphina. “And Miss Moss, there is no need for such a sorrowful performance in my home. You have found a wonderful match. Soon you will hold the most coveted position in the empire. Shouldn’t you be happy?” Seraphina swayed, her face turning deathly pale. “Lady Evelyn, I know my station is low. I would never dare compare myself to you, nor did I intend to steal your fiancé. Why must you mock me so?” Alaric let out a scornful laugh. “You were very quick to end things, Lady Evelyn. Could it be you already have another man in your heart? Perhaps my actions have done you a favor?” He swept his gaze across the guests. “Today is your birthday. Why not choose a new suitor right now? I will even provide a lavish wedding gift myself.” With that, he wrapped his arm around Seraphina and left, a smug smile on his face. The hall erupted in whispers. “Has the Crown Prince lost his mind? Breaking his engagement for some unknown cousin!” “But Lady Evelyn is the Queen’s niece! She’s his cousin too!” “You haven’t heard? He shot this Seraphina girl during the hunt and fell for her on the spot. Now he insists on marrying her.” “I’ve never even heard of this woman. The security at the royal hunting grounds is impenetrable. How did she even get in? There’s more to this story.” “I heard she’s related to the Prince’s birth mother…” “Hush! Don’t speak of that. The Prince’s origins are a forbidden topic. His mother was nothing but a lowly palace maid.” My birthday celebration was ruined, ending in chaos and humiliation. And overnight, the news that Crown Prince Alaric had jilted a daughter of House Ashbourne for an orphan girl became the scandal of the capital. 2 The next day, I was summoned to the palace by the Queen. She is my father’s sister, my true aunt, and has always doted on me. Though she has reigned as Queen for many years, she remains childless—a constant, hidden sorrow. Alaric’s birth mother was a scullery maid the Emperor happened upon at a country palace. She was so low-born that even after catching the Emperor’s eye, she was never granted a title. She died shortly after Alaric was born. Because of his mother’s status, Alaric was bullied by everyone, even the palace eunuchs. He nearly didn’t survive his childhood. But my aunt, the Queen, was the Emperor’s cherished favorite. Her power in the palace was absolute. Seeing the boy’s pitiful state, she took him in, raised him as her own, and educated him with the utmost care. And so, although he was only the fourth-born prince, his adoption by the Queen made him the natural choice for Crown Prince. She held my hand, her voice filled with pain. “My dear child, I know you have been wronged. Alaric is a fool who doesn’t appreciate his blessings. I taught him for years, I promised him the most beloved daughter of our house, and he casts you aside for a pretty face he’s only just met!” “With such judgment, how can he ever hope to rule? All my years of guidance have been wasted.” Her voice cracked. “The blood that flows in his veins is not of House Ashbourne, after all. He is not my own. I see now that he can never truly be.” I leaned against her knee, clutching her sleeve. “Aunt, it is not a bad thing that the Prince has shown his true character before our marriage. It is better than me suffering after I have entered the palace.” “A daughter of House Ashbourne will not lack for suitors.” The Queen smiled, stroking my cheek. “Our Evelyn is the finest woman in the empire. Rest assured, the position of Crown Princess is yours and yours alone. No one can take it from you.” The Emperor and Queen were childhood sweethearts. Their bond was deep. Even without an heir of her own, she remained the woman he loved and trusted most. Because she raised Alaric, the Emperor’s affection extended to him as well. He had made the son of a palace maid the Crown Prince. Now, the Emperor had heard of the broken betrothal and was furious. “Fool! The greatest houses in the land would move heaven and earth for a daughter of House Ashbourne, and you cast her aside for some nobody?” “The Queen arranged this marriage to give you the backing of a great house! You have no maternal clan to support you. This was your foundation, and you have destroyed it with your own hands! You are as witless as a pig!” The Emperor stormed out, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. Despite the Emperor’s fury, Alaric remained defiant. He brought Seraphina with him to pay his respects to the Queen. He knelt before her. “Mother, you have always cherished me. All I wish is to marry a woman I love. I am the Crown Prince. Surely I can marry someone of my own choosing?” The Queen looked at him with profound disappointment. “You and Evelyn grew up together. You once knelt before me and begged for this marriage, claiming you adored her, that you would support each other as equals for a lifetime. And now you say she is not the woman you love?” “It seems to me that this Seraphina has blinded you.” Alaric held his head high, his hand clutching Seraphina’s. “Mother, Evelyn is just like all the other dull noblewomen—bound by rules, stiff, and utterly lifeless. But Seraphina is different! She laughs, she jests, she dances dances never before seen at court, and sings all manner of rustic folk songs. She is vibrant and captivating! Mother, if you only got to know her, I am certain you would love her too!” 3 From behind the screen, a scornful smile touched my lips. Singing folk songs, performing vulgar dances, and being “captivating”? You could find a girl like that in any tavern. The Queen’s voice was ice. “Alaric, do you have any idea what you will lose without the support of House Ashbourne?” The Prince laughed. “I know you speak of the backing of the great houses. But Mother, I am the Crown Prince, the future ruler of this empire. The entire world is my domain. What have I to fear?” His face brightened. “I know you are fond of Evelyn. Why not let her be my consort? When I ascend the throne, I will make her a Noble Consort. Surely House Ashbourne would not dare to object?” Behind the screen, I clenched my fists. The insolence of this boy. The Queen’s voice was chilling. “A daughter of House Ashbourne will never be a secondary wife. Alaric, you are my adopted son, but you are not the Emperor’s only son. Do you truly believe you can hold your position on your own?” “Of course,” he replied, his voice firm. “I am the future Emperor, Mother.” Seraphina spoke in a soft, weak voice. “Your Majesty, I know my station is low. If Lady Evelyn joins the palace, I will never compete with her. I will treat her as a sister, and we will serve His Highness together.” The Queen let out a short, sharp laugh. “Hmph. Alaric, you had best be certain. Once you marry Seraphina, there is no turning back.” His voice rang with conviction. “Yes. I will have no regrets.” The Queen waved a dismissive hand. “Very well. You may leave. I will issue the decree in a few days.” The Prince’s arrogance was boundless; he clearly held no respect for the Queen’s family. I knew my aunt had made her decision. I said no more and slipped away. As I was leaving the Queen’s palace, Alaric cornered me at the gate. “Evelyn, I was impulsive yesterday. After some thought, I admit I was wrong.” “My father, the Emperor, reprimanded me today. I realize now that I should not have damaged your reputation.” “I have already requested that my mother, the Queen, decree Seraphina as my official Crown Princess. But the position of Royal Consort is not a slight to you. This way, we can still be together, and I will not have broken my promise. What do you say?” He looked at me with such tenderness, as if expecting me to nod in grateful acceptance. He was disappointed. I took a step back. “Your Highness, our betrothal is over. There is nothing more to discuss.” He reached for me. “Evelyn, I know I was wrong. Please, forgive me this once. I can apologize to you in front of everyone, restore your honor. How about that?” I snatched my hand away. “Your Highness, please conduct yourself with dignity. You declared with your own lips that our betrothal was void. Have you forgotten?” Alaric advanced, trapping me against a pillar. “Evelyn, a woman must be sweet and obedient to be loved. We were betrothed. A woman rejected by the Crown Prince… who in the empire would dare marry you? If word gets out, your life will be ruined.” I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze. “You need not concern yourself with my affairs, Your Highness. A daughter of House Ashbourne will never lack for suitors. Even if you scream yourself hoarse, the nobles of this land will still line up at my family’s door.” His face darkened. “Evelyn, a little temper is charming. Too much, and a man loses all interest.” “I will inform the Emperor that the wedding will proceed as planned. When you are my consort, I will take the time to properly teach you how to behave.” From that day on, the Prince paraded Seraphina all over the capital. Because his future bride had no family of means, he commissioned the city’s most luxurious jewelers and silk houses to craft a dowry for her, working day and night. Seraphina had never seen such finery in her life. She stroked the silks, her eyes wide with wonder. Alaric held her close, spending gold like water. “I want everyone to bow to you. One day, you will be the most revered woman in the world.” He showered her with gifts, and a cloud of sycophants followed them everywhere, praising him as a man of true passion, a man who would defy the Emperor and Queen for love, who would cast aside the powerful House of Ashbourne for a humble girl. It was, they said, deeply moving. The more he heard it, the more pleased he became. “I love only you,” he told Seraphina, taking her hand. “One day, you will be my Empress, and rule by my side. Who will dare to speak ill of you then? They will all kneel at your feet. As for that girl from House Ashbourne, she will be fit only to serve you.” Seraphina leaned weakly against his chest. “Cousin, are you truly giving up Lady Evelyn for me? She is the daughter of a great house, the Queen’s own niece. She is far more suited to be Crown Princess. As long as you have me in your heart, I am willing to give up the position. Just seeing you every day is enough…” “Besides, the Queen does not seem to like me. I don’t want to make things difficult for you.” Alaric hugged her tightly. “Do not worry. I am the Crown Prince. Can I not give the woman I love the title of princess? House Ashbourne, for all its power, is still a house of subjects. Offering her the position of consort is the greatest honor I can bestow upon them.” “My mother has no children of her own. She raised me. Who else can she rely on? She will yield, you’ll see.” “As for Evelyn Ashbourne… When a king gives an order, his subjects must obey. I want her as my consort, and House Ashbourne will have no choice but to deliver her to my palace!”

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The day my wife gave birth to my brother’s child, my whole family stood guard outside the delivery room—not out of concern for Lina, but fear I’d cause a scene. Mom watched the elevator nervously. “Ethan wouldn’t take the stairs, right?” Dad called security again. “Six-foot-three. Seen him?” Jake paced, fists clenched. “If he shows up, I’ll protect Lina and my son.” But I never came. After the birth, Lina handed Mom her phone. “Call Ethan. If he agrees to be godfather, we can still be family.” She felt no guilt—just pride in giving our parents a grandchild. What they didn’t know? I wasn’t coming. I was under the scorching sun, training for a peacekeeping mission in Africa. A deployment I might not return from. 1 Lina came home after a week in the hospital. I had just gotten back from the training grounds. I opened the front door to find the whole family gathered around the sofa. “Oh, just look at him! He has Lina’s eyes and nose, but that mouth… that’s all Jake,” my mother cooed. “Mom, he’s so little, you can’t tell yet,” Lina murmured, though she was beaming. “Lina, you’ve been through so much,” Jake said, leaning down to kiss her forehead, his eyes filled with an undisguised love. My father sat to one side, smiling so broadly that new wrinkles creased the corners of his eyes. “Of course you can tell! And I say, thank God the baby looks like you two. If he was Ethan’s kid, he’d probably be a disappointment anyway.” He used to be so proud that I was a soldier. He’d always said that a man’s highest calling was to protect his country, even if it meant long deployments without a return date. But now, coming home, it seemed everything had changed. I watched their perfect little family of five, a bitter, ridiculous taste filling my mouth. Four years ago, I’d left home to join the service for a critical mission. Lina and I were newlyweds. I couldn’t bear the thought of her waiting for me, practically a widow if my mission failed. I’d offered her a divorce, urging her to find a new life. But Lina had only gripped my hand, tears in her eyes, refusing. “Ethan, is that the kind of woman you think I am? One who can’t handle being alone?” she’d said, her voice trembling. “My husband is defending our country. How could I, your wife, leave you at a time like this? I’ll take care of your parents. I’ll be here, waiting for you.” The day I left, my parents and Lina saw me off at the airport. My parents were crying, their hands clutching mine, their clouded eyes tracing the lines of my face. “Ethan, don’t you worry,” my father had choked out. “Your mother and I will be right here, waiting for you to come home safe.” “He’s right,” my mother added. “We’re so proud of you. Just focus on your duty.” I’d walked the line between life and death more times than I could count. The thought of them was what always pulled me back. But when I was discharged and came home two months ago, I walked into a completely different world. My place had been taken, firmly and completely, by another man. “Ethan, you’re back.” Jake’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. The others looked up. My father’s face immediately soured when he saw me, covered in dirt and grime from training. “Look at the state of you! Are you trying to embarrass us? Did you have to show up looking like a mess on the day Lina comes home?” “Are you doing this on purpose? Trying to bring bad luck into this house?” my mother added, her voice sharp. The same woman who used to fret over every cut and bruise from my training now looked at me with pure disgust. Lina, reclining on the sofa, glowed with the light of new motherhood. “Ethan, I know you’re resentful,” she said softly. “But you were gone for years. Even if I could wait, your parents needed a child. You can’t be so selfish as to deny them a grandchild.” Hearing her words, I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “An adopted son’s child isn’t a real heir.” “Ethan, what did you just say?!” my father roared, slamming his hand on the table and glaring at me. “If it werent for Jake, I would have died of a heart attack on the street! He had no family, and he shares our last name. He was a gift from heaven! I’m telling you, if you watch your mouth, there’s still a place for you in this home. But if you insist on making trouble, I won’t hesitate to throw you out myself!” When my father got angry, his eyebrows shot up and his eyes bulged, a truly terrifying sight. In the past, worried about his heart condition, I would have immediately backed down and apologized. But now, I just stood there, unmoved. Seeing my silence, my father raised a hand to strike me, but Jake stopped him. “Dad, it’s okay. It’s normal for Ethan to need some time to accept this.” Jake stood between us, his expression sincere as he looked at me. “Brother, I hope you can come to the christening. As the baby’s father.” I did a quick calculation. The christening was a month from now. The exact day I was due to return to my unit. In that case, I would give them a christening they would never forget. “Fine,” I said. 2 I went into the bathroom to shower. The sound of their happy chatter wasn’t muffled by the door; it flowed right through, clear as day. “Jake, what should we name the baby?” “Whatever you want, Lina. You’re his mother; you have the final say.” Jake’s voice was gentle, and Lina’s tone was filled with a soft reliance on him. Cold water streamed down my neck, clearing my head. I could still remember the overwhelming joy and excitement I felt two months ago, coming home at last. But when I pushed open the door, the first thing I saw was Lina, her belly swollen and round. There was no surprise or happiness on her face. Only fear. “You! What are you doing back?!” Before I could speak, a strange man walked out of our bedroom. “Who is it, Lina?” he asked. He was wearing my pajamas and my slippers. The moment he saw me, he moved to shield Lina behind him. Our wedding photo, once prominently displayed, was gone. Jake stared at me with wary eyes. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Jake, he… he’s Ethan. My husband.” In that moment, it felt like all the blood in my body rushed to my head. My thoughts shut down, replaced by a dull ringing in my ears. Hearing Lina’s words, Jake’s face broke into a smile, and he walked toward me. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jake, your brother. And the father of your child. I…” My fist was my answer. “You son of a bitch!” I threw him to the ground, punching his face again and again. Lina’s screams filled the air as she tried to stop me, too scared to get close. All I could think was, I’m going to kill this parasite who snuck into my life. It wasn’t until my mother’s slap stung my cheek that I stopped. My father pulled me off, and I collapsed onto the floor. My own parents stood over me, their voices a torrent of accusations. The condemnation and disgust in their eyes became a recurring nightmare that would haunt me for a long time. Later, I learned the whole story. In the four years I was gone, Jake had become my parents’ adopted son. He’d taken care of them. And then, he started taking care of my wife. That night, I sat on the sofa and smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. Lina sat beside me, crying through a whole box of tissues. “You’re gone for years at a time,” she sobbed, claiming she did it all for me. “I can handle it, but what about your parents? They’re getting older! They just wanted a grandchild to keep them company. What’s so wrong with that? Jake even said the baby would call you Dad, that he would have nothing to do with him. He’s already given up so much, why can’t you just accept it?” In the dim light of the living room, I looked at her face. It had only been four years, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. As the last cigarette burned down to the filter, I asked in a raw voice, “Do you love him?” Lina didn’t answer, but the way her hand froze told me everything I needed to know. In that instant, all my anger and humiliation felt utterly ridiculous. “Ethan, Jake will be staying in your room for a while.” I had just stepped out of the shower when my father gave the order. “You can pack your things and move into the guest room.” “Why?” My voice was flat. But they reacted as if I’d shouted a challenge, jumping to their feet. My mother pointed a finger at me. “Jake is kind enough to let the child call you Dad! But he is the biological father! What’s wrong with him sleeping in the same room as the mother and child? Ethan, stop being so selfish.” I’d heard that word—selfish—countless times in the past two months. Whenever I showed the slightest hint of disapproval, they’d use it to crush me. But the selfish ones were not me. I wanted to argue, but then I remembered I’d be gone in a month. So I just shut my mouth, gathered my things, and moved into the spare room. That night, exhausted from a full day of training, I should have fallen asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. Instead, strange noises from the room next door kept me tossing and turning. “Wait, I just gave birth, we can’t…” “What do you mean, we can’t? Lina, I’ve missed you like crazy these past few days.” “Ethan’s in the next room!” “So what? He can’t hear. And besides, wouldn’t it be more exciting if he could? Lina, tell me, who’s better? Me, or your husband?” “Mmm… you, of course…” I closed my eyes, my fists clenched so tight my knuckles were white. An image of my first date with Lina flashed in my mind. Back then, she would blush just from holding my hand. Maybe time really does change everything. 3 I didn’t sleep well that night. The next day, I was up before dawn and heading back to the training grounds. This next mission was going to be even more dangerous than the last. I had to be in peak physical condition to avoid being a liability to my team. But as I trained, the ugly memories kept replaying in my head. The loving way Lina looked at Jake. My parents’ fierce protection of him. It all fueled a burning rage inside me. I channeled that rage into my training. I imagined the punching bag was Jake’s face. And I destroyed it. On the way back, I stopped to buy a few buns to fill my stomach. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice. “Brother?” I turned. The four of them were standing not far from me. Jake was dressed in a sharp suit, his hair slicked back with gel, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He looked quite respectable. “Ethan, it really is you! What are you…” He trailed off, looking me up and down. I’d just come from the training grounds, disheveled and sweaty, wearing only a white tank top with my jacket slung over my shoulder. Compared to Jake, I looked like a wreck. Lina stood beside him, frowning, one hand held delicately over her nose. I saw the gesture and my mind flashed back. After every training session in the past, Lina would throw herself into my arms. I’d often push her away, telling her I was covered in sweat. But she never cared. She used to say my sweat was for our country, that she couldn’t be prouder, so how could she ever be disgusted? I guess the difference between love and no love really is that obvious. “Ethan, what have you been doing to look so pathetic?” my mother’s voice cut through my thoughts, dripping with disdain. “If you have no shame, we do!” It was as if all those times she’d tenderly bandaged my wounds and cooked me soup belonged to another lifetime. “Brother, I get it now,” Jake said, his expression one of feigned sympathy. “You were discharged and couldn’t find work, so you started doing construction?” “Ethan, if you need a job, you could have just told me! I can help you find something! There’s no need to degrade yourself like this.” He sounded like he was looking out for me, but without me saying a single word, he’d branded me a manual laborer. I opened my mouth to explain, but when I saw the disgust on Lina’s and my parents’ faces, I closed it again. “Him? Let’s not have him embarrass your company,” my father scoffed, not even bothering to look at me. “He’s got nothing but a pile of muscles.” When I’d first enlisted right out of military school, my father had posted about it on social media for days, bragging about me. Someone had mocked him, saying I was just a dumb jock who was good at fighting but not at thinking. My father had stayed up all night arguing with the man. The next morning, with dark circles under his eyes, he’d clapped me on the shoulder with a proud smile. “Son,” he’d said, “you go protect our country. I’ll protect you.” But now, he was the one calling me a meathead. I looked down, hiding the bitterness in my eyes. “Well… Ethan, we’re heading to dinner. Do you want to join us?” Jake offered. “Let’s not, Jake. That place has a dress code. Ethan, looking like that…” Lina’s voice was soft, but her meaning was crystal clear. “Right,” Jake agreed. “In that case, we’ll see you later, brother.” He gave me a little wave. I watched them walk away, Jake at the center of the group, holding Lina’s hand, looking completely at ease. Fine. This was what they wanted—a son and a husband like Jake. So be it. I’d give them what they wanted. 4 Half a month flew by. It was time for my father’s post-op check-up. I got up early to get ready to take him to the hospital. No matter how he’d treated me, he was still my father. Besides, the surgeon who’d operated on him was a man I’d pulled strings to get, calling in a major favor from a high-ranking officer in the army. The doctor was one of the best in the world and rarely operated on anyone. But when my father saw me ready to go, he just frowned. “What are you doing?” “Taking you for your check-up.” “Save it. Jake is coming to pick me up. If it wasn’t for Jake, I’d be dead from that heart attack! Hmph, raising you has been the same as not having a son at all! Jake met me once and was willing to go beg Dr. Peterson to operate on me!” My father’s words were like a bomb exploding in my head. Dr. Peterson was the surgeon I had arranged! “What are you talking about?! I’m the one who got Dr. Peterson! I…” “You got him?! Ethan, stop lying through your teeth! Do you even know who Dr. Peterson is? Who are you? You think you have that kind of influence? You spent a few years in the army and now you think you’re some big shot.” My father sneered at me, cutting me off. But the moment he saw Jake, his expression changed completely. “Ethan, are you coming to the hospital with us?” Jake asked. “Why would we bring him? He’d just get in the way,” my father said, grabbing Jake’s arm. As they walked out, he glanced back at me. “Ethan, I suggest you learn to be more honest. Don’t disappoint your mother and me again.” In that moment, I finally understood. The truth didn’t matter. What mattered was that in his heart, he had already chosen Jake as his son. As for me, I was just the inconvenient one who came home from service when I wasn’t supposed to. I sat on the sofa as my phone buzzed with notifications. Lina was on a shopping spree with my supplementary credit card. During my four years in the service, I’d earned numerous commendations. The severance pay the military gave me upon discharge, I had it all deposited to that card. I had wanted to give Lina a better life. Now, it was clear that was just my own wishful thinking.

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1 The first day I dropped Lily at preschool, the teacher called: “Your daughter was caught stealing.” I rushed over on my old scooter to find her tied to the flagpole, a “THIEF” sign around her neck. A scream tore from me—until a designer-clad woman kicked my knee, sending me crashing down. She straddled me, yanking my hair. “Trash like you shouldn’t touch what belongs to the Harringtons!” she spat. “That hairclip is worth more than your lives.” I gritted my teeth. “What Harrington treasure is so precious?” The watching parents laughed. “Harrington Capital, you idiot! And this is Jenna Miller—the woman Mr. Harrington swore to protect!” Son of a bitch. Another of my brother-in-law’s mistresses. … I struggled, trying to get to Lily and untie the ropes, but Jenna held me down with vicious strength. Her nails dug into my wrists, the pain so sharp it made my vision blur. The preschool director, a woman with a pinched face, held a megaphone to her lips, her voice booming across the schoolyard. “Let this be a lesson to everyone! This is what happens to thieves!” “Starlight Academy will not tolerate stealing of any kind!” Parents pointed and whispered. Their children, emboldened by the adults, started picking up small stones and throwing them at my daughter. “Thief! Thief!” The childish chants were brutal. Pebbles pelted Lily’s small body. She was shaking, her sobs choked with terror as she pleaded, “I’m not a thief… I didn’t steal anything…” “What proof do you have that my daughter stole anything?” I roared, my voice raw. “That hair clip is hers! It was a birthday present from her father!” Jenna let out a cold, sharp laugh. She reached up and plucked an identical clip from her own daughter’s hair. “Open your damn eyes and look! This is the signature hair clip of the Harrington family’s eldest princess!” She held it high for everyone to see. “It even has her initials engraved on the back! Does your pathetic little knock-off have that?” I froze, finally seeing the subtle difference. My daughter’s clip was a custom-made prototype. Jenna’s daughter was wearing the mass-produced version that was later released to the public. The two girls must have dropped them while playing. Jenna’s daughter had insisted that Lily’s handmade version was hers. After a tantrum, the accusation of theft was born. Fearing the situation was spiraling out of control, I fumbled for my phone and dialed my brother-in-law, Brian. The call connected, but the background was filled with the deafening roar of machinery. “Brian! Get to Starlight Academy, now!” “Come clean up your mess, or I’m calling your wife!” Brian’s voice was muffled and confused. “Elara? I’m in the middle of something! Bad connection.” “Whatever it is, can we talk about it later? I have to go.” He hung up. Jenna and the other parents erupted in derisive laughter. “An actress! Look at her go! Pretending to call a Harrington!” “Who’s next, the President? Think the Secret Service will come save you?” Jenna kicked me hard in the back, sending me sprawling face-first into the dirt. Several of her friends, all decked out in expensive clothes, closed in, their fists and feet a merciless storm against my body. “Look at this pathetic stray! Daring to impersonate a Harrington relative!” “The nerve is just unbelievable!” My jacket was torn, and my scalp screamed in pain as they pulled my hair. 2 Tied to the flagpole, my daughter Lily’s cries were heart-wrenching. “Mommy! Don’t hit my mommy!” I fought like a wild animal, but they held me fast to the ground. My face was shoved into the earth, my mouth filled with the bitter taste of sand and humiliation. Rage and shame burned through me, a fire in my gut. Jenna ordered two school security guards to pin me down, rendering me completely immobile. She then turned to her own pampered daughter. “Sweetheart, Mommy’s going to teach you a lesson,” she cooed. “When you deal with thieves, you have to make sure they never forget.” “You go teach that little thief a lesson. Mommy will take care of the big one, and you can take care of the little one, okay?” Her daughter, a cruel smile on her face, picked up a bottle of black ink, twisted the cap off, and dumped the entire contents over Lily’s head. Lily, still bound, trembled violently. The thick, black liquid streamed down her pale face as her cries turned into hysterical sobs. My vision went red. I thrashed against the guards’ grip. “Stop it! You’ll pay for this! For doing this to a child!” Jenna kicked me in the chest, her laugh cold and sharp. “Pay for it? When you taught her to steal, did you think about the price she would have to pay?” “My price is having Mr. Harrington to protect me. Your price is kneeling here like a dog!” “Trash like you belongs under my heel!” The crowd of parents murmured their approval. Someone even started live-streaming the “righteous” punishment. Vicious comments scrolled across the phone screen: [Serves her right! Like mother, like daughter. The mom should be arrested!] [Look at her face. Not an ounce of remorse. How dare she glare like that?] [Thanks to the Justice Warrior Streamer for showing us what happens to scum.] [How can she still kneel there? I’d have buried myself in a hole by now.] [Streamer, zoom in! I want a good look at that shameless face!] Someone in the crowd yelled, “Film it! Let everyone see what happens to a thief!” Another chimed in, “Yeah! People like this deserve to be socially executed!” The director sidled up to Jenna, fawning over her. “Mrs. Harrington, don’t let this garbage upset you!” “I’ll have her daughter’s enrollment terminated immediately!” “I have connections at every preschool in the city. I’ll make sure this mother and daughter have nowhere to go!” My eyes burned with rage. I stared daggers at the bootlicking sycophant. “You just try it.” CRACK! Jenna’s hand connected with my cheek in a brutal slap. “Did I say you could speak?” I secretly slipped my hand into my pocket, trying to grab my phone to call the police. Jenna’s eyes narrowed. Her stiletto-clad foot stomped down on the back of my hand. She ground her heel in, the sharp point digging into my flesh. With a sickening crack, I heard my own bones break. A scream of pure agony was torn from my throat as a cold sweat drenched my back. The phone, now under her heel, shattered, the screen going black. “Trying to call the police? In your dreams!” “When I’m done with you, I’ll be the one to call them and have you thrown in a cell for a few days.” She lifted her chin smugly, taking the bottle of ink from the director and pouring the rest over my head. The black liquid ran through my hair, staining my white dress. My daughter saw what was happening and her cries became even more frantic. Jenna kept her foot planted on my crushed hand, looking down at me with an air of absolute superiority. “Lick the ink off my shoe. If you do a good enough job, I might consider untying your daughter.” “But it’s just a consideration. It all depends on how well you beg.” 3 The crowd of parents started chanting, their voices a roaring wave. “Lick it! Lick it!” “Teach her a lesson!” “A thief needs to know her place!” For Lily, I closed my eyes. I was trembling. Just as my lips were about to touch the filthy leather, a black Maybach screeched to a halt at the gate. Brian Harrington, my brother-in-law, jumped out, flanked by two assistants and a team of black-suited bodyguards. His face was pale, his forehead beaded with sweat. His eyes darted around the scene, finally landing on me, a pathetic, ink-stained heap on the ground. But he didn’t look at me. Instead, he turned to the parents who were live-streaming, giving his bodyguards a sharp nod. “Hand over the phones.” Terrified, the parents scrambled to comply, not daring to resist. Brian then walked up to the director, his voice quiet but laced with menace. “What happened here today, I don’t want to hear a single word about it outside this school.” The director bobbed her head like a puppet. “Yes, of course, Mr. Harrington! You have my word!” Only after he had contained the situation did he turn to Jenna. He forced a placating smile, reaching out to pat her shoulder in a gesture that looked anything but intimate. “Alright, Jenna, let’s not make a scene. We’ll let the director handle this. Why don’t I have someone take you home?” The triumphant smirk on Jenna’s face vanished, replaced by shock and confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, but Brian quickly clamped a hand over it, muffling her protests. I watched them, a cold knot forming in my stomach. Their interaction was stiff, almost clinical. I chalked it up to them trying to maintain appearances. She was his secret mistress, after all. A relationship not meant for the light of day. Just then, my daughter, still tied to the pole, cried out, her voice hoarse. “Uncle! Uncle, please help me! I’m not a thief!” Brian’s body went rigid, but he didn’t turn around. Lily’s sobs grew more desperate. She pointed to a faint blue ring, drawn with a ballpoint pen, on Brian’s middle finger. “Uncle, why won’t you look at me? Was… was the ring I drew for you yesterday not pretty?” He acted as if he hadn’t heard her, striding over to Jenna. He pulled a black credit card from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “I’ll handle this. You take your daughter and go home.” His voice was low but held an undeniable urgency. Jenna clutched the card. Though she was clearly unhappy about it, she nodded, grabbed her daughter’s hand, and walked toward the Maybach. Brian finally let out a breath of relief. He barked at his bodyguards, “Quick! Get my niece down from there!” They moved swiftly, undoing the ropes that bound Lily. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed, crawling weakly toward me. And Brian, the moment Lily was free, turned, faced me, and dropped to his knees. “Elara! I’m so sorry! I’m late, I didn’t know it was this urgent!” His head was bowed low, his voice thick with regret and fear. “I’m begging you, please don’t tell my brother. And please, for the love of God, don’t tell Laura!” “Elara, you have to help me cover this up!” Ignoring the searing pain from my shattered hand, I pushed myself up from the ground. Lily crawled to my side, clinging to my leg, her sobs ragged and breathless. I looked at Brian kneeling before me, and a white-hot rage burned through my reason. I raised my good left hand and, with every ounce of strength I had, slapped him across the face. CRACK! “Help you?” I shrieked. “Brian, all the times you’ve messed around on the side, your brother and I have looked the other way! We’ve helped you lie to your wife, Laura!” “But look at this thing you’ve been keeping!” I pointed at the Maybach, its engine still rumbling. “She calls her daughter the ‘Harrington family’s eldest princess’! She tied my daughter to a flagpole! Poured ink on her! Called us thieves!” “She crushed my hand under her heel and ground me into the dirt!” “She shits on my head, and you expect me to wipe your ass?” I was shaking with fury. I slapped him again. 4 “You let her walk all over me! Brian, you’ve really outdone yourself!” “What are we in your eyes, my daughter and I? Just disposable trash? What kind of power have you given her that she dares to act like this?” Brian clutched his stinging cheeks, not daring to argue. He just kept bowing his head, over and over. “Elara, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” “I didn’t know she was this crazy! I’ll deal with her when I get home, I swear!” Just then, the Maybach, which had just started to pull away, slammed on its brakes. The door flew open, and Jenna stormed out, her face a mask of fury. When she saw Brian on his knees, with me standing over him, her eyes went bloodshot. “You thieving bitch!” “How dare you hit him?” Jenna lunged at me like a feral animal, her hand raised to strike. Two of the bodyguards reacted instantly, grabbing her from either side and holding her fast. Jenna thrashed in their grip, her voice a stream of curses. “Let me go! You useless dogs!” “Can’t you see this psycho is hitting Mr. Harrington?” “I’m going to rip her goddamn mouth off!” The scene had descended into chaos. At that moment, another car, a stately black Lincoln, pulled up to the gate. The door opened, and a woman in a custom-tailored, dark green silk dress stepped out with practiced grace. A string of sandalwood prayer beads was wrapped around her wrist, and a jade pendant hung from her waist. She moved with an effortless, commanding elegance. It was Laura. Brian’s wife. “I saw a live stream that looked a little familiar, so I came to see what was going on.” Her eyes swept over my disheveled form, then to her kneeling husband, and finally to the struggling Jenna. I shot Brian a sarcastic smile. “Well, Brian, your wife is here. Let’s see how you explain this one.” I was ready to watch the fireworks. Brian caught red-handed, the mistress right there in front of everyone. Finally, someone else would deal with her. But what happened next left me completely stunned. Laura walked briskly over to Jenna, her voice low and placating. “Miss Miller, why don’t we find somewhere private to talk? Let’s not make a scene here, okay?” She reached out to help Jenna up, her posture almost deferential. But Jenna looked at her as if she’d never seen her before. She shoved Laura’s hand away in disgust. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can touch me?” She looked Laura up and down, then sneered. “Some stray cat off the street thinks she can tell me what to do? Get lost!” Laura stumbled back, caught by her assistant. She instinctively glanced at Brian, who gave her a sharp, almost imperceptible nod. Laura understood immediately. She lunged forward and delivered a series of sharp, ringing slaps across Jenna’s face. “Who do you think you are?” “Daring to use the Harrington name to throw your weight around!” “You’re nothing!” The crisp sound of the slaps silenced the crowd. Jenna, clutching her burning cheek, was completely bewildered. “You hit me? Do you have any idea who I am?” “I don’t give a damn who you are!” Laura slapped her again, so hard that Jenna staggered. “You seduce my husband and then dare to act high and mighty in front of me? Who gave you the nerve?” With that, Laura grabbed a fistful of Jenna’s hair and started dragging her toward the car. But Jenna fought back, and the two women descended into a tangle of flailing limbs and furious shrieks. “You psycho! Who is your husband? When did I ever seduce him?” Jenna screamed as she struggled. “Let go of me! I only had dinner with the man once!” The crowd of parents watched, their jaws on the floor, as a new wave of gossip erupted. “So this Jenna is the mistress? Caught by the real wife?” “I knew it. The real Harringtons would never let their family act so atrociously in public. She’s just some cheap trash.” The jeers and whispers were even louder now than when they had been directed at me and my daughter. Brian scrambled to his feet, rushing to help Laura drag the screaming, kicking Jenna to the car. “Let me go! You two are disgusting!” Just as they were about to shove her inside, a small, desperate cry pierced the chaos. “Daddy! Daddy! They’re hitting my mommy! Help her!” I followed the sound of the voice.

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In the pouring rain, I knelt at a funeral for five hours, sobbing—just to earn a sliver of what my “dying” boyfriend Leo needed for surgery. Then I saw him. Smoking in the VIP section, surrounded by sycophants: “Is it true she’s a professional mourner, even pawning her dead mother’s heirlooms for you?” “Imagine her face,” they laughed, “when she finds out you’re a billionaire CEO—and this ‘sick boyfriend’ act was just revenge on your ex’s rival.” Leo blew a smoke ring. “Her tears are worthless. If she goes blind, so be it.” “Damn, Leo, you know how to handle women.” “She was born trash,” he said coldly. “Her fault for crossing Isabelle.” I stifled a sob. Every whispered “I love you”—a lie. Heart hollow, I called my general father: “I’ll take the arranged marriage.” … 1 I hung up, but the laughter from the VIP section didn’t stop. “Haha, Leo, you’re a master of the game.” “I heard that girl’s wailing is pretty melodic. Bet she sounds even better in bed, huh?” Leo shot the speaker a look. “You want to hear?” “I’ll record it for you guys next time.” “Hey, speaking of which, isn’t this a funeral? Why not bring your little crier over? Money’s money, right?” Leo took a deep drag from his cigarette and flicked the butt away. “She’s not worthy of an occasion like this.” “Besides, it’s not time yet.” The men around him snickered. “Getting soft, Leo? Don’t get caught in your own game.” “Never.” Someone teased, “Leo’s smart. It’s a good thing you didn’t bring her. If she actually managed to save up enough for the surgery, you’d have to stage a fake operation.” “No way. Leo’s just playing around. He’d never get serious.” Everyone fell silent, waiting for his answer. Including me. Finally, I heard his cold, sharp voice. “Of course not. How could I ever marry a funeral crier?” In that instant, my world shattered. Every ounce of pride and self-respect I had was ground into dust. I have no idea how I managed to stumble back to our rented room after accepting the three hundred dollars the butler handed me. At the door, the landlord was waiting, rubbing his fingers together. “Good haul today?” I numbly handed him one hundred and fifty dollars. Yes, it was the landlord who had gotten me this “job.” As thanks, I gave him half my earnings every time. I turned to go upstairs, but then I heard his voice, deliberately lowered, on the phone. “Yes, Mr. Leo, she made a good bit again today.” “Then raise her rent by fifty percent.” I recognized Leo’s voice instantly. The landlord hesitated. “Is… is that a good idea?” “Why not? It’s her own fault for being so good at making money.” “I tell her I’m not feeling well, and she works herself to the bone crying at funerals for me. I’m honestly afraid she’ll save up enough and try to force me to marry her.” “That’s true. If you actually got married, Miss Isabelle would not be pleased.” Leo was silent for a moment. “My guys have been working hard playing along with this act. The bonus will be in your accounts shortly.” The next second, the landlord shrieked. “Holy crap! Is that twenty thousand, five hundred and thirty-four dollars and ninety cents?” “Mr. Leo, that’s so much! And it’s such a specific number.” Leo’s voice was nonchalant. “It’s nothing. Spend it. There’s more where that came from.” Those few, careless words drained all the strength from my body. That was the exact amount of money I had scraped together over three years, one kneeling session at a time. A wave of helplessness crashed over me, and I crumpled against the wall, sobbing until I thought my lungs would burst. He’d sent me a single-page diagnosis, and I had immediately cut ties with my family to move in and take care of him. And with a few careless words, he had sentenced our three years together to death. If my father knew his daughter had become this pathetic, he’d probably disown me on the spot. 2 Back in the rundown apartment, I quickly started packing my things. But as I looked around, I realized there was almost nothing worth taking. The matching his-and-hers slippers he’d bought me for my birthday, $9.99 for two pairs, free shipping. The ring he’d given me—made from a soda can tab—after I’d spent six months caring for him in the hospital, when he’d cried and promised to marry me. The rainbow-colored kneepads he’d bought me after I started my “job,” and the cases of instant noodles in every flavor imaginable. Before him, I was a pampered princess who had never lifted a finger. After him, I ate ramen until I wanted to vomit and never once complained. I truly believed I had found a love that was one of a kind, the most precious thing in the world. Now I knew that even the love was a lie. I opened a drawer. Inside was a thick notebook, filled with my cramped handwriting detailing all his preferences. What he liked to eat, what he didn’t, his allergies, a daily log of his medication. On the last page was my blood donation record. During the leanest times, to make sure his “treatment” wasn’t interrupted, I would secretly sell my blood. The two days before each donation, I would drag him out for a big meal. He would always tease me. “Were you a starving ghost in a past life?” Back then, I thought it was playful banter. Now, I saw the malice and contempt dripping from his words. He never knew that of the five dollars we spent on breakfast, he ate four dollars and fifty cents’ worth. I would gnaw on half a bun and sip from a water bottle, starving until evening when I could finally eat again. I looked around the room: the piss-stained toilet seat, the moldy trash can, the creaky, hard bed. He never cleaned, never acknowledged the filth. Whenever I, fighting back nausea, would try to tidy up, he’d stop me. “Leave it. It’s not necessary.” At first, I thought he was worried about me overworking myself. Now I knew. He never saw this place as a home. He would pull me into bed, lost in his primal desires, but he never once planned a future that included me. It was time to wake up from this nightmare. In the end, I packed only a few of my own clothes and left quietly. But downstairs, I ran into Leo coming home. He looked surprised. “Aria? You have another gig this late?” Leo’s face, once so beloved, now looked like a stranger’s. He was pale, panting. “It started pouring the second I stepped out. Luckily, some kind people gave me a ride home.” The roar of a luxury car engine filled the air. Standing beside it were several impeccably dressed “kind people,” and among them, a woman of breathtaking beauty. I recognized her instantly. It was Isabelle, Leo’s real fiancée. Because on her wrist and around her neck were the bracelet and necklace my mother had left me. My breath caught in my throat. Even the heirlooms I’d pawned… he’d had someone manipulate the sale to get them. For three years, I had been living inside a colossal lie. I trembled with rage. My mother had left me two heirlooms. The priceless family bracelet I had pawned to pay for his “treatment.” All that was left was the necklace. Now, both pieces were on this woman. What was there left to believe? I walked straight up to her and held out my hand. “My mother’s heirlooms. Please give them back.” Leo’s adoring smile froze. “Aria, what are you doing?” I ignored him, my voice stubborn. “I just want my mother’s things back.” He forced a gentle smile, trying to explain. “You noticed?” “What a coincidence. The kind person who helped me just happens to be the one who bought your mother’s things.” “Aria, she helped me, so I gave her the necklace as a thank you. Isn’t it a bit ungrateful of you to demand it back?” 3 My face was a cold mask. I reached for the jewelry. Before my fingers even brushed her clothes, Isabelle let out a cry and collapsed to the ground. Her beautiful dress was soaked in the muddy rainwater, and a bruise was already forming on her forehead. “Why did you push me?” I was speechless. I saw a flicker of genuine pain in Leo’s usually indifferent eyes. He frowned. “Aria, apologize to her. Now.” I laughed in disbelief. “You want me to apologize?” “Go eat shit.” Humiliated in front of his friends, Leo’s face darkened with anger. “Aria, these people are clearly rich and powerful. You don’t want to get on their bad side. Just apologize.” Yes, they were rich and powerful. And so was he, standing right in front of me. The life-saving money I had scraped together, he could give away without blinking. “Never.” Seeing my firm refusal, Leo’s friends egged him on. “Dude, are you whipped? Can’t even control your own girlfriend?” “If you won’t apologize, then you can pay.” “That dress Isabelle is wearing is a global limited edition. Fifty thousand dollars.” I closed my eyes. “I don’t have any money.” Leo was furious now. He shoved me to my knees. His voice was harsh. “If you don’t have money, then get on your knees and kowtow. What’s the big deal?” “You kneel for a living every day. What’s so embarrassing about it? Is it so hard to bow your head for me?” His words were like a carving knife, scraping across my heart, each one drawing blood. To earn money for his treatment, my knees had become calloused, but I had never uttered a single word of complaint. But now, for something I didn’t even do, he was grinding my dignity into the dirt. All to appease his precious first love. The jeers and taunts of the crowd were like daggers, piercing the last shred of my pride. I started to unbutton my shirt. “You want money, right? I don’t have any. But I can pay with my body. How about it?” Leo stared at me like I was insane. “Aria, do you have any idea what you’re saying? Are you crazy?” I looked at him, my eyes unfocused. “Weren’t you the one who said you’d record me for your friends next time? Who wants to go first?” His pupils contracted, his face turning a ghastly white. “You… you heard?” Leo’s voice trembled. “No, that’s not it, let me explain…” I faced him, my voice dripping with scorn. “Explain what? That you’re not sick? That the late-stage leukemia was all a lie?” “You enjoyed watching me kneel and cry for money every day, just so you could squander it all, didn’t you? All because I outshone Isabelle at our thesis defense?” “Don’t worry about it. It was only the twenty thousand I scraped together over three years. Tell your friends to spend it well.” I gritted my teeth. “Leo, I truly wish you really did have leukemia.” I finally understood that hate is just love, shattered. Swallowing my humiliation, I continued to undress. Leo stopped me. He fumbled to cover me with his jacket, his voice frantic. “Aria, I’m begging you, stop.” “What’s wrong? Don’t want to share with your friends anymore?” “Leo, you’re so selfish. I feel sorry for the friends who had to act along with you for three years.” He flew into a rage. “Aria, I’ve already apologized! What more do you want?” 4 I didn’t hesitate for a second. “Let’s break up. And give me back my mother’s heirlooms.” “I know my status as a funeral crier is unlucky, low-class, and unworthy of a tycoon like you.” “I know my place. I won’t wait for you to get tired of me and kick me to the curb. I’ll leave on my own!” My mother’s heirlooms were meant for me to find the love of my life, to be my dowry. I had only pawned them to save Leo’s life. To think that all this time, I was living in his trap, played like a fool for three years. My nails dug into my palms. I had been so blind, so utterly disappointing to my parents. “Aria, listen to me, at first I really was—” “I don’t want to hear any of it. You played me for three years. I’m begging you, just let me go, okay?” Leo finally exploded. “What are you, a funeral crier, putting on airs for? So what if I lied to you?” “You’re a low-life. Marrying you is impossible. But if you’re obedient, I can make sure you’re well-cared for, for the rest of your life. Think about it.” “I’ve thought it through very clearly. I want my mother’s things,” I said, enunciating every word. A crack appeared in Leo’s composure. “You’re being unreasonable.” Isabelle stepped forward haughtily. “You want them back? Fine. I paid a good ten thousand for them. After being worn by me for a while, they’ve appreciated in value. How about twenty thousand? Cash.” Then she pointed to my knees. “Oh, I almost forgot. You earn a living with these. How about you kneel for three full days, and then I’ll give them back to you?” The crowd erupted in jeers. “With her pathetic, broke-ass life? Twenty thousand for three days! Miss Isabelle, you’re too generous!” “She could cry at funerals for the rest of her life and not make that much!” “Maybe if she found a sugar daddy. She’s got the looks for it. Our Mr. Leo is rich, handsome, and fit. She got lucky to be with him for so long.” Leo feigned concern. “Babe, just hold on. Kneel for three days, let Isabelle cool off.” Hearing this, Isabelle grew even more smug. She tossed the jewelry up and down in her hand. “When Leo gave me this, I thought it was some rare treasure. Turns out it’s just your dead mother’s stuff. How tacky.” With a flick of her wrist, she sent the heirlooms flying in a perfect arc, straight into a storm drain. The rushing rainwater swallowed them without a trace. My vision went red. “No!” I wanted to dive into the drain after them, but Leo held me back, his grip like a vise. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? They’re not even that valuable! As long as you stay with me, no strings attached, what can’t you have?” He didn’t understand. Those things were more precious to me than my own life, something money could never measure. I stared at him, my eyes burning, and slapped him hard across the face. Then I turned and walked away. Behind me, Leo’s lackeys were already sucking up to him. “Leo, man, just let a woman like that go. You’re not actually going to chase her, are you?” “No way, you can’t have actually fallen for that funeral crier, right?” The rain fell harder, and Leo’s reply was lost in the storm. I went straight back to the home I hadn’t set foot in for three years. A few days later, a friend of my father’s, a respected elder, passed away. I went to the funeral, as requested. At the entrance, I ran into Leo and his entourage.

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It was the parent-teacher day at my son’s school. Both mother and father were expected to attend. My husband never told me. He took his doctoral student instead. He said I was too busy with work and he didn’t want to bother me. For the sake of peace, I let it go. But today, my son, Leo, had an allergic reaction. I rushed to the hospital, only to find him lying there, his head resting in the doctoral student’s lap as he received an IV drip. After a call to the school, I learned the truth. Leo had secretly changed his emergency contact information. In the space for “Mother,” he had put the doctoral student’s name. And my husband, Theo, had approved it. In that moment, I just felt… tired. That night, I asked Theo for a divorce. He didn’t even look up from his papers. “Over an emergency contact?” “Yes.” 1 Theo rubbed his temples, a weary sigh escaping his lips. “Every time we argue, you bring up divorce. Can you just stop?” He was gathering files from his desk as he spoke. “I have to get to the lab. Can we talk about this when I get back?” His student, Sienna, was standing by the door, holding his coat. “Professor,” she said, her voice soft and deferential, “everyone is waiting for us.” She glanced at me, her expression a perfect mask of concern. “Ma’am, it’s a full group meeting today. It wouldn’t be good for the professor to be late.” They both spoke with an air of strained patience, as if I were the unreasonable one. Sienna’s phone buzzed. A message. She “accidentally” hit the speakerphone button. A loud, boisterous male voice filled the room. “Don’t tell me the professor is still being held hostage by his wife. Seriously, they should have divorced ages ago. Is she going through menopause or something? My vote is for Sienna to just take over. We’ll all chip in for a wedding gift!” I recognized the voice. It was Theo’s newest Ph.D. student. He’d been to our house for dinner. Sienna fumbled with her phone, her face flushing as she silenced it. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered. I looked straight at Theo. “Is that what your students say about me?” He sighed, a humorless laugh escaping him. “What, you expect me to control what other people say? If you keep this up, they’ll say worse.” He moved to walk past me, toward the door. It felt like a stone was pressing on my chest. I threw myself in front of the door, like a madwoman who had lost all reason. “Sign the divorce papers! Sign them now!” My shrill voice made Sienna flinch. Her face went pale, and she looked at Theo with an expression of pure, heartbreaking sympathy. Theo leaned against the wall, his head thudding softly against the doorframe in a gesture of utter exasperation. “Is this really necessary? All this, over an emergency contact?” he said, his voice strained. “I’ve already called the school and had them change it back.” “And the parent-teacher day… Leo is just more comfortable with Sienna. And you’re always so busy with work. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry, okay? It was my fault. I’m a terrible person. Are you happy now?” Sienna saw her opening and stepped forward, bowing respectfully. “Ma’am, I apologize as well. Please, don’t worry. Leo will always be your son. I could never take him from you.” The housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, hearing the argument, came upstairs. She’d been with Theo’s family for over a decade, practically one of them. “Now, Olivia,” she said, her tone chiding, “that’s enough. You’ve had your fit. Are you trying to drive Theo to an early grave?” I looked at them. The united front. It was as if they were all offering me a ladder to climb down from my high horse, and I was the one stubbornly refusing. But they were the ones who had pushed me up here. Theo and I met on a blind date. We were a good match on paper, and we married without much fanfare. But right after the wedding, my father was falsely accused of academic fraud and forced into a public apology. Overnight, he went from a titan in his field to a pariah. Theo’s parents were terrified my father’s scandal would ruin Theo’s career. They called me a jinx, a dead weight, and demanded we divorce. Then I got pregnant. They still insisted we live separately. When I went into labor, it was difficult. I nearly died bringing Leo into the world. The first thing I heard when I woke up was my mother-in-law’s disappointed voice. “She hemorrhaged that much and still didn’t die. What a tough one.” I fell into a deep postpartum depression. Using my “recovery” as an excuse, they took Leo to their estate to raise him. I begged them every day just to let me see my son. By the time I was well enough to have him back, Leo had learned to hate me, just like his grandparents did. He called me the “wicked witch,” said I was nothing more than the family housekeeper. He said I wasn’t worthy of being his mother. I tried everything to fix our relationship, but he met every overture with contempt. With Sienna, however, he was naturally affectionate. He didn’t want me at his parent-teacher day. He changed his emergency contact to her name. And Theo had allowed all of it. He’d even had the audacity to blame me for being too dramatic, too sensitive. This time, I was truly exhausted. I just wanted to escape this suffocating life. “Theo,” I said, my voice low and firm, “you’re not leaving this house until you sign these papers.” 2 I clung to Theo’s arm, refusing to let him go. “Olivia! Are you not happy until you’ve driven everyone insane?” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The next second, he exploded like a volcano. He kicked the coffee table, sending glass shattering across the floor. “Ah!” Sienna screamed, shrinking back in fear. Her scream seemed to shock Theo back to his senses. He rushed to her side, helping her up and pulling her behind him. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The apology was for her. Sienna shook her head, her eyes red-rimmed as she clutched his sleeve. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me…” she whispered. “The most important thing right now is to calm your wife down.” Just like that, Theo was calm again. He ordered Mrs. Gable to bring Leo downstairs. A moment later, Leo appeared, trembling at the top of the stairs. He was wearing only a thin pair of cartoon bear pajamas. He said, “Dad.” He said, “Auntie Sienna.” He didn’t even glance at me. I automatically reached for his coat, wanting to wrap it around his small shoulders. He flinched away from me in disgust. “You smell weird,” he sneered. “It’s gross. I’m not wearing your clothes.” He shot me a look of pure disdain and ran to Sienna. “Hey, sweetie, why are you wearing so little?” Sienna said, her voice dripping with affection. She took off her own coat and wrapped it around him, scooping him into her arms. “Auntie Sienna, you’re so nice,” Leo mumbled into her shoulder. “Not like some people… who just fight with Dad all the time…” Theo cleared his throat. “Leo, apologize to your mother. She’s upset because she didn’t get to go to your school event. If you don’t apologize, she’s going to leave us.” Leo’s eyes lit up. “Is the wicked witch finally leaving?” he chirped. “I’m not apologizing! Go on, get out! I want Auntie Sienna to be my mom!” It was like a knife twisting in my heart. Was this really the child I had nearly died to give birth to? Theo’s brow furrowed. “Don’t talk like that! Apologize to your mother, now!” Leo, stubborn like his father, just shook his head, his eyes turning red. “No! I hate her!” Even Theo couldn’t get through to him. It was Sienna who finally broke the stalemate. “Sweetie,” she cooed, “why don’t you apologize to your mom? As a little favor for Auntie Sienna, okay?” Leo bit his lip, hesitated for a moment, and then actually gave in. “Sorry,” he muttered. “There, you happy?” Theo let out a breath of relief. “See? He apologized. Now can you stop this drama? I’m giving you an out. Take it.” Just then, Sienna’s phone buzzed twice. She glanced at it and typed a quick reply. Then, Leo’s smartwatch buzzed twice. For the next two minutes, the phone and the watch buzzed back and forth. A sly, knowing smile played on Leo’s lips. He stole a glance at me. My stomach dropped. They were messaging each other. About me. It felt like a hand was closing around my throat, squeezing the air from my lungs. Without a word, I snatched the watch from Leo’s wrist. And there it was. A group chat. Just the three of them. The group name was “The Safe Harbor.” Leo: The wicked witch is so annoying! I hate her! Sienna: Leo, sweetie, you shouldn’t say bad things about your mommy~ But it breaks Auntie’s heart to see you so upset. Leo: Why doesn’t she just die? Then I could be with Auntie Sienna forever! Sienna: Leo, you should keep thoughts like that to yourself. If your mommy found out, she might spank you… Reading the last message, I started to tremble uncontrollably. Leo was flailing, trying to grab the watch back. “Wicked witch! Don’t touch my stuff!” His small fists pummeled my face, my neck. The watch slipped from my grasp and shattered on the floor. “You stupid witch!” Leo shrieked, his face red with fury. He picked up the broken watch and threw it at my head. A sharp pain, and then I felt something warm trickling down my temple. The broken screen had cut me. I shuddered, my limbs going numb. My heart seized in a painful knot. I pressed a hand to the wound, my voice surprisingly calm. “I’ll buy you a new one.” Leo wasn’t having it. He spat at me. “Get out! Get out!” He kept shoving me, pushing me away. Theo, seeing the blood, looked torn. “Leo, that’s enough.” He handed me a tissue. “You know, if your son isn’t close to you, maybe you should think about why. You’re so aggressive. Who could possibly like you?” He sighed. “He apologized. You should be satisfied.” I blinked back the stinging tears. “Sign the papers, Theo. I’m done.” 3 “Olivia! Don’t push your luck! It’s such a small thing! I had the entire family coddle you, and it’s still not enough?” I looked up at him and shook my head. The emptiness in my eyes seemed to startle him. “…You really want to divorce me?” “Yes,” I said, my voice firm. Theo laughed, a harsh, angry sound. “You’d better think this through. Everything you have, I gave to you. After the divorce, you’ll be nothing but a washed-up, second-hand woman that no one wants.” “You won’t get a penny of my money! And you can forget about custody of Leo!” He thought he was threatening me. He had no idea I no longer cared about any of it. I nodded calmly and pointed to the divorce agreement. “You should read it. Custody of Leo goes to you. I’m only taking the house my father left me before we were married. I don’t want anything else.” The hand holding the papers was trembling slightly. Sienna chose that moment to reappear, her eyes red. “Ma’am,” she began, her voice trembling, “this is all my fault. If you really can’t stand me, I can apply to switch advisors… You’re a family. I’m just an outsider. Please, don’t let me come between you.” “I can even leave this city, disappear from your lives forever. I just want the professor to be happy…” She bit her lip, on the verge of tears. Theo’s brow furrowed, his eyes filled with sympathy for her. Leo immediately jumped to her defense. “Auntie Sienna, you’re not an outsider! If you leave, I’m going with you!” He shot me a sly look and whispered in Sienna’s ear, “Dad won’t want to be without me. He’ll leave the wicked witch and come find us.” I heard every word. The irony was suffocating. “Theo, let’s get a divorce,” I said, my voice flat. “Do you really think this marriage has any meaning anymore?” “Ma’am, please don’t be impulsive,” Sienna pleaded. I couldn’t help myself. “Sienna, who do you think you are? And what’s with the Good Samaritan act? You’re dying for us to get divorced so you can move in. Stop the performance.” “Olivia!” Theo was shaking with rage. He pulled Sienna protectively behind him. “You can take your anger out on me, but leave innocent people out of it.” Just a moment ago, he had refused to sign, no matter what I said. Now, just because I had said a few words to Sienna, he snatched up a pen and scrawled his name across the papers. It was laughable. “There! I hope you don’t regret this,” he snarled, throwing the papers in my face. The sharp edge stung my cheek. Then, dead silence. I crouched down and picked up the scattered pages. I straightened them, kept one copy, and left the other for him. “Thank you,” I said. “Don’t you have a meeting? You should go. Don’t be late.” He stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief, as if he couldn’t understand my calmness. Under his stunned gaze, I went back to the bedroom. My bags had been packed for two weeks. I pulled out my suitcase and handed a gift-wrapped box to Leo. “Your birthday is next month. This is for you. It’s the Barcelona Bear you wanted.” “I don’t want it!” he pouted, rolling his eyes at me. He snatched the box and marched over to the fireplace. With a final, defiant glare, he tossed the bear into the flames. The fire swallowed it whole. “Auntie Sienna will buy me one!” he declared. I felt nothing. “Fine. Do what you want.” I turned and walked toward the door, Theo’s cold words chasing me. “The moment you walk out that door, Leo has nothing to do with you! He will never call you ‘Mom’ again!” “And don’t think for a second I’ll ever come crawling back! I’ll be glad to be rid of the dead weight!” His voice grew more frantic. I knew he was trying to make me back down. I just waved a hand over my shoulder, a lightness spreading through my chest. “Whatever.” “I don’t want him as my son anymore anyway. And as for you, I’ve had enough.” I didn’t slow my pace. I walked out of that house, out of that life filled with pain and bitter memories. I was finally free.

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My mother picked two suitors: a wealthy gentleman for my sister Evelyn, and a blind, wheelchair-bound scholar’s son for me. I devoted myself to his care—funding treatments, describing the world, becoming his eyes. Doctors said his legs were fine; perhaps it was psychological. Then we were kidnapped. As a knife stabbed toward Evelyn, my husband suddenly stood, yanking me in front of her. The blade pierced my heart. His bodyguards called him “Young Master.” He wasn’t disabled. His father, the city’s richest man, had staged this to test sincerity. “You passed,” he whispered as I died. “But I love Evelyn. I’ll repay you next life.” I awoke back at the choosing day. 1 In the living room, my mother was all smiles, chatting with two young men. One was Julian Harelik, sitting in a wheelchair. The other was the impeccably dressed Harrison Ford. Just like last time, my sister Evelyn’s gaze was fixed entirely on Harrison. My younger brother, Will, ever the troublemaker, saw my pale face and decided to poke fun. “Is there even a choice here? Rachel’s dressed like a farm girl. She and the blind guy are a perfect match.” He smirked. “But Evelyn has been the campus queen since we were kids. We can’t let a cripple ruin her.” My fists clenched. “So what you’re saying is that I, the sister who has fed and clothed you your whole life, deserve to be ruined?” “Don’t you forget how you’re still alive today!” Evelyn and Will were twins, three years my junior. From a young age, my parents had drilled one idea into my head: the eldest sister is like a mother. I had to care for my siblings like an adult and help support the family. So, the best food always went to them. New clothes were always for them. When Will needed a kidney transplant, it was my kidney that I gave. Now, Will wanted to marry some socialite, but we couldn’t afford the bride price. So my mother, shameless as ever, had contacted the Harelik and Ford families—families we hadn’t spoken to in over a decade—to demand they honor some casual, long-forgotten marriage pact made by our grandparents. She planned to use my and Evelyn’s dowries to pay for my brother’s wedding. But having lived and died once already, I had nothing left to lose. “I choose Harrison,” I announced, my voice ringing with a newfound firmness. “Or I won’t marry at all.” Everyone stared at me, stunned. Tears welled up in Evelyn’s eyes. I had never been so assertive, never dared to claim something she wanted. She immediately cast a pleading look at Harrison. He understood. He sat down beside her, pulling her into his arms. “Evelyn and I felt a connection the moment we met. As her older sister, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to stand in the way of her happiness.” Evelyn clung to his hand, her eyes misty. “And you know I’m terrible at taking care of people. I couldn’t possibly live with Julian. What if his condition gets worse because of me? I’d feel so guilty. Rachel, you learned traditional medicine from Grandpa, didn’t you? If you were with him, you might even be able to cure him. It would be a good deed.” I glanced at the silent Julian, a small, knowing smile playing on my lips. “So, you’ve decided on Harrison, then.” She nodded. My mother quickly sealed the deal. “Alright, it’s settled then.” But in the next moment, Julian moved. He lifted a slender hand, removed his dark glasses, and revealed a pair of startlingly bright eyes. Then, he stood up from his wheelchair. He walked past me, straight to Evelyn, a smile gracing his lips. “You don’t have to worry about taking care of me. I was just playing a little joke on everyone. And while I’m not from this city, my father is the wealthiest man in Crestmont. You’ll live a very comfortable life with me.” His voice was smooth as silk. “Evelyn, would you give me a chance to win your heart?” I scoffed inwardly. Of course. He was reborn, too. That made things much easier. 2 While everyone was still reeling from the shock, I spoke up. “Mom, since that’s the case, I’m not getting married. As for how much of a dowry you can get from them, that’s up to you.” My mother’s face flushed with embarrassment. One was the son of Crestmont’s richest man, the other the heir to a prominent local family. She couldn’t afford to offend either of them. And right on cue, Harrison’s competitive streak flared. He stood up, meeting Julian’s gaze. “A gentleman does not steal another’s love. Do you understand?” Julian returned his look without flinching. “Who is beloved, I believe, is for Miss Evelyn to decide.” A handsome curve formed on his lips as he turned his gaze, now filled with an overwhelming tenderness, back to Evelyn. “Do you remember, when we were children here in Seabrook, my grandfather set up a chess problem under a tree? You were the only one to solve it, and in less than an hour.” “I was so captivated by your intelligence then, I swore I would marry no one but you in this life.” “Don’t feel pressured. I will compete with Harrison fairly. No matter who you choose in the end, I will respect your decision.” In my past life, I had never understood why his love for Evelyn ran so deep. Now, hearing the reason, I could only find it laughable. I was the one who solved that chess problem. But I couldn’t blame him for the mistake. Back then, I was perpetually hungry, giving all my food to my siblings. I was shorter and scrawnier than Evelyn. But I had no intention of revealing the truth. It was all so pointless. Seeing Evelyn nod, Harrison, though displeased, agreed to the competition. This was no longer just about a girl; it was about the pride of two powerful families from two different cities. The show was over. I stood up to go to my room, but my mother stopped me. “Where are you going?” “Oh, I’m leaving this house to go live with Grandpa.” “You are not! If you leave, who will they marry?” I let out a sharp laugh. “Mom, what, you want both wealthy sons-in-law? If you’re that desperate, why don’t you marry one of them yourself? I’m not interested in anyone’s leftovers.” With that, I went to my room to pack. The truth was, my grandfather had disowned our family long ago. Twenty years ago, my mother, greedy for money, had boasted that his medical skills could bring the dead back to life. She insisted on bringing a corpse to his clinic, nearly ruining his lifelong reputation. He threw her out and severed all ties. Only I, after I was old enough, would secretly visit him. I had a natural talent for traditional medicine. In my last life, I could have inherited his legacy. I had to give it all up because I married Julian. I was too busy working odd jobs to pay for his treatments, saving up to take him on trips to lift his spirits. This time, I would live for myself. 3 After packing, I hurried to the entrance of our neighborhood to catch a cab. But Julian was there, blocking my path. It was the first time I had ever stood so close to him. I realized then how tall and perfectly sculpted he was. A beautiful vessel, but a rotten core. “Rachel, you’re reborn too, aren’t you?” I met his gaze, my head held high. “Yes. I remember every one of your cold glances, every lie you told me. And I remember the piercing pain of that knife.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.” “Save your cheap apologies. I will never forgive you. Now get out of my way.” Suddenly, his hand clamped around my arm like a vise. “You can’t leave.” In the next second, two of his bodyguards dragged me into a car. I was taken to a lavish villa and surrounded by his men. “Julian, what the hell are you doing? I’m not bothering you and Evelyn anymore. Why are you holding me captive?” “Rachel, in our last life, I said I would compensate you. If she doesn’t choose me this time, I will marry you and ensure you live a life of ease.” I snorted. “And if she does choose you?” “Then I’ll give you a sum of money and let you go. For now, I need your help. Tell me everything she likes.” He leaned in closer. “Tell me what she likes to eat. I’ve invited her for dinner. I’m going to cook for her myself.” Though my heart was filled with hatred, seeing him so devoted to Evelyn still sent a pang of pain through me. I bit my lip, refusing to speak, but his grip tightened until I thought my bones would break. “Expensive things,” I finally choked out. “The more expensive, the better.” After he went into the kitchen, I scouted the villa, looking for any possible escape route. Soon, the doorbell rang. Evelyn stood at the door in a pink dress, her face a picture of shy anticipation. Julian greeted her with a warm smile. “Thank you,” she cooed, her voice artificially sweet, before noticing my presence. “What are you doing here?” Julian quickly explained. “She’s here to help me win you over. I figured your sister would know your preferences best.” Though her eyes were filled with disdain, she forced a gentle smile. “Julian, you’re so thoughtful.” When we sat down to eat, I didn’t hold back, digging into the air-freighted lobster and king crab. But Evelyn was busy tapping on her phone. Soon, it rang urgently. “Mom? Calm down, what’s wrong?” “What? I’ll be right there.” After hanging up, she suddenly dropped to her knees in front of me. “Rachel, Will needs another kidney transplant! Please, help him! You can’t just let him die!” My mind went blank. After the last surgery, the doctor had said Will’s recovery was excellent and a relapse was highly unlikely. “You’re a match, too. Why don’t you donate?” But she acted as if she couldn’t hear me, banging her head on the floor. “Rachel, please, I’m begging you, save him!” Julian, his heart aching for her, pulled her up from the floor and into his arms. He then turned to me, his eyes blazing with anger. “You’re so selfish!” With that, he swept Evelyn out of the house, but not before ordering his guards to keep a close watch on me. 4 I was locked in a room on the third floor. No amount of pounding on the door did any good. I found a heavy trophy on a shelf and, without hesitation, smashed it against the window. Looking down from the third-floor height, my legs trembled. I closed my eyes and jumped. But fate was not on my side. I landed hard, breaking several ribs. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe. Just then, Julian walked over. I instinctively begged for help. “Take… take me to a hospital.” But his voice was glacial. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying here to donate a kidney to your brother.” I stared at him in disbelief, tears streaming down my face. “I only have one kidney left. If I give it to him, I’ll die.” “Yes,” he said flatly. “I know.” My heart turned to ice. “This is your compensation?” “I’m sorry. I can’t bear to see Evelyn sad. Just consider it another debt I owe you.” I lay in bed for days, my injuries slowly healing, but my life was ticking away. The feeling of waiting for death was a slow, creeping despair. Five days later, Evelyn came into my room alone. Seeing me tied to the bed, she burst out laughing. “Sister, since you’re about to die, I’ll tell you the truth. The one who needs the kidney isn’t Will. It’s the person he hit with his car. And what a coincidence, they’re a perfect match for you.” Tears poured from my eyes. “Have I ever been anything but good to you? Why are you doing this to me?” She shot me a venomous glare. “If you want to blame someone, blame Julian. If he were really a cripple, I would have let you have him. But he’s not. So I want them both!” I closed my eyes in sorrow. She untied my restraints. I got up and followed her slowly. As we reached the door, I suddenly shoved her out with all my might and slammed the door, locking it from the inside. I grabbed the can of gasoline I had prepared and doused the room, then struck a match. Evelyn pounded on the door frantically. “What are you doing? You can’t die! I’m calling Julian right now!” My voice was calm, detached. “I’ve already called the police. If you don’t want Julian to find out you conspired to trick him, you’d better pray I burn to death!” The pounding stopped. I stood amidst the swirling flames and laughed, a wild, liberating sound. Finally, release. Farewell, to this world that had never once been kind to me.

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