Category: English

The day the true Ashworth heiress returned, my life ended. I became a ghost on the streets, fighting stray dogs for scraps from dumpsters. With a ruined face and missing arm, no one challenged me for meals. “Ugh, she’s not even wearing pants!” a passerby sneered. Dignity was a luxury I couldn’t afford. I devoured a discarded cake, shoving it into my mouth with what remained of my fingers. Then I noticed him—staring in horrified disbelief. “Must be losing my mind,” he muttered, “mistaking a homeless woman for Roxanne Ashworth.” As he walked away, his voice warm with love for his wife, my tears mixed with the last bitter bite. I’d walked a thousand miles for this final look at him. Now that I had it… it meant nothing. 01 This cake was incredible. It would keep the hunger at bay for at least three days. I lay back on the cold stone steps, letting out a soft, contented burp. The man pointed at me, his handsome face an unreadable mask. “Mark,” he said to his assistant, “take her to a shelter. Help her find her family.” The man named Mark crouched down, his gaze sweeping over me with undisguised contempt. “Mr. Gabel, she’s been a fixture around here for years. I saw her… ‘working’… with a few other vagrants last year, if you catch my drift.” He wrinkled his nose. “Are you sure you want to help someone like her?” I was used to that look. The disgust. I let my matted hair fall away from my face and lunged at him with a guttural cry. He yelped, stumbling backward and falling flat on his ass. The man—Ethan Gabel—flashed a brief look of surprise, then shook his head, a frown tightening his lips. “Never mind.” “Just get her out of here,” he commanded. “I don’t want her on the grounds of Gabel Enterprises again. It’s bad for the company’s image.” He looked at me, his eyes as cold as a winter sky, and in them, I saw the Ethan I remembered. “Roxanne hurt Natalia, stole from the family safe, and fled the country. This can’t be her.” His tenderness, his affection—that was reserved for Natalia Ashworth and Natalia alone. A bitter acid churned in my stomach. Before Mark could say another word, I used a nearby pillar to haul myself to my feet and began to shuffle away. Mark scrambled back to Ethan’s side. “Sir, you have an appointment for Ms. Ashworth’s prenatal check-up in an hour. Will you go directly to the hospital, or shall I have a car take you home to pick her up?” “Natalia can’t stand the way you guys drive,” Ethan’s voice softened, a note of pure adoration creeping in. “I’ll go get her myself. Three years of marriage, a month away from being a mother, and she’s still got the temperament of a child. I wonder who spoiled her so badly.” The words were like a physical blow, a spike of pain through my ears. I froze, my gaze falling to the small, faded heart tattoo on my wrist with the initials ‘E & C’ inside. We’d gotten them together, the night of our engagement party. Four years. A lifetime ago. They were married now. They were having a child. Tears I could no longer control burned their way down my cheeks. Two years, walking a thousand miles, just to get back to Crestfall City. Another two years, haunting these streets, just for a glimpse of him from afar. And now, my wish was granted. There were no more regrets left to have. Nearby, Mark nodded. “I’ll pick you up at 2 p.m., then.” Ethan took the car keys from his hand and started toward the parking garage. He noticed I was still standing there, unmoving, and shot me a glare. “Why haven’t you gotten rid of her yet?” Mark rushed over, his voice sharp. “What, are you waiting for me to call security to throw you out? You bums are all the same—lazy, freeloading, preying on people’s kindness. Gabel Enterprises is not a place you want to mess with.” As he spoke, a pair of patrolling security guards hurried over. “It’s her! She tried to steal the keys to the guardhouse last time.” “Get her out of here!” The words had barely left his mouth before their rubber batons came down on me. I crumpled to the ground, curling into a ball and covering my head with my one good arm. Just endure it, I told myself. Let them get it out of their system, and then you can leave. But one of the guards had other ideas. He kicked my mangled left hand, the one with only three fingers, and then stomped on it, grinding his boot into the fragile bones. “Maybe breaking this one will teach you a lesson.” “Let’s do it, boys! I’ll take the heat if anything happens!” A wave of pure terror washed over me. I knew what was coming. I risked one last look at Ethan, a final, silent goodbye, and squeezed my eyes shut. Ethan, I thought, in the next life, we will not meet again. But the blinding pain I expected never came. A sharp “Stop!” from Mark cut through the air, and then a strong hand gripped my wrist. Ethan Gabel yanked me to my feet, his face pale, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “Where,” he demanded, his eyes locked on the faded ink, “did you get that ‘E & C’ tattoo?” 02 I stared up at him through my mess of hair, my face a roadmap of scars, and bit my lip until I tasted blood. What was I supposed to say? That I was her? That I was Roxanne Ashworth, the wild, headstrong girl who was once the bane of everyone’s existence? I, who had used my family’s power to force Ethan Gabel into an engagement. I, who had drugged him, then dragged his unconscious body to a tattoo parlor to brand us with matching symbols of a love he never wanted. I, who had watched him wake up, seething with a fury that was almost beautiful. Now, seeing me like this—a broken, homeless creature—would only bring him a grim satisfaction. His grip on my wrist was crushing, a vice of steel and ice. I tried to pull away, but he was immovable. Just then, his phone rang. I gestured weakly toward his pocket, but he didn’t move, his gaze still boring into me. It was Mark who finally answered the call. “Mrs. Gabel, yes. Mr. Gabel is just leaving the office now. He’ll be home shortly to take you to your appointment.” It must be Natalia. The icy fury in Ethan’s eyes thawed for a moment. He released my wrist, his voice regaining its commanding tone. “Take her to the shelter. Run a background check. Find out who she is.” He stared at me one last time before turning on his heel. “I want to know the second you have anything.” I watched him go, my eyes fixed on his retreating back long after he disappeared. Mark was efficient. Within the hour, I was not only at a shelter but in a private room. After I had washed, he returned with a doctor. The doctor examined the scars on my face, his expression grim. “My god,” he sighed. “Who did this to you? These wounds are at least three years old. A sharp blade, cut deep enough to graze bone. With her scar tissue, reconstructive surgery will be… difficult.” Even Mark, a man who I was sure had seen his share of unpleasantness, had to cover his mouth to stifle a gag. The doctor moved to my right side, gently rolling up the empty, tattered sleeve. The beam of his penlight illuminated the stump of my arm. “The right arm was severed. Hacked off, by the looks of it. Probably a cleaver or something similar.” He leaned in closer. “But it was clearly an amateur. Or maybe the blade was dull. See the hesitation marks? The ragged flesh? It was a brutal, clumsy job.” I looked down, a humorless smile twisting my lips. Natalia, who had never so much as harmed a fly, had complained that my bones were too hard. It took her more than a dozen swings to finally sever the limb. Did that count as an amateur? Mark let out a string of curses under his breath. “Jesus Christ. What kind of monster does something like this?” “That’s not all,” the doctor said, gently tilting my chin up. He shone the light into my mouth. “Her tongue… it’s been partially severed. She can’t speak properly.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with a pity that felt worse than any blow. “Young lady, who did you cross to end up like this?” I couldn’t stand their sympathetic gazes. They were a thousand times more painful than the guards’ batons. After Natalia was found and the DNA test proved she was the true Ashworth heiress, everyone I had ever slighted came for their revenge. Natalia had pointed at my right arm with a sweet, girlish smile. “Oh, Daisy, was it this arm she slapped you with? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it for you.” Her best friend had held a pair of pliers, and with a sickening crunch, had snipped off the tip of my tongue. As I screamed, Natalia had poured a bottle of high-proof gin over my face, the alcohol searing my skin. “Every time you scream,” she’d whispered, “I’ll cut you again.” “You stole Ethan from me,” she’d said, her voice a singsong of madness. “So I’ll steal your name, your family, your life.” “This is what you owe me, Roxanne.” The memories of those three days and nights of torture clawed their way back into my mind. I began to tremble uncontrollably, my teeth chattering with a violent, rhythmic clicking. The doctor quickly pulled a syringe from his bag and administered a sedative. As my body went limp, he carefully tied off my good arm and inserted a needle. “Her emotional state is extremely fragile, and she can’t communicate. I’ll take this blood sample and run it through the database for a match. We should have results in about three days.” 03 I drifted in a hazy state, half-asleep, half-drowning in memory. In my mind, I was back in the Ashworth mansion. After Natalia had broken my legs, she’d had me thrown into the cellar. I couldn’t make a sound, only listen to the happy chatter of the family I once called my own living their lives above me. On the fifth day of my disappearance, I heard my mother, Eleanor, speaking to Natalia in a hushed voice at the top of the cellar stairs. “It’s been a week since Roxanne came home. You two went out together that day, didn’t you come back together?” Natalia’s voice was the picture of innocence. “Oh, Mom, you know how Roxanne is. Such a snob. She can’t stand my friends. We went to Daisy’s house, but she left after a little while, said she had something to do. She’s probably shacked up with some new boyfriend.” Eleanor sounded worried. “That doesn’t seem right. Roxanne can be a handful, but she’s always been responsible. She never stays out all night without calling.” She was about to say more when my father, Richard Ashworth, cut her off. “Why are you still talking about that little monster?” His voice was a low growl. “I just went to open the safe. The cash is gone. So are the gold bars. It’s pretty damn obvious who took them.” “And look at Natalia’s leg!” he roared. “She was a rising star in the National Ballet Company, and that little witch pushed her down the stairs and broke it! Natalia may never dance again! And you’re worried about her? I hope she rots out there!” Any lingering concern Eleanor had for me vanished in the face of my father’s rage. “It’s all my fault!” she spat, her voice thick with regret. “I should have known when I saw she didn’t look like me. I should have done a DNA test in secret years ago. Think of all the hardship our Natalia endured with that servant woman. It’s only fair that Roxanne gets a taste of it.” “She’s just like her biological mother,” Eleanor declared. “Rotten to the core! Heartless! A vile, ungrateful wretch!” I clung to the crack in the cellar door, their curses stabbing into me, a pain far deeper than any physical wound. Seeing me lying on the damp floor like a gutted fish, Natalia had smiled, her face radiant. “Roxanne, Dad and Mom have agreed to let me marry Ethan.” “And I have you to thank for it,” she’d chirped. “After you threw away all my little gifts to him, he came to find me, to apologize and beg for my forgiveness. Thanks to you, we slept together that very night.” My eyes, dry for days, burned with a sudden fire. I turned my head slowly, my lips forming words that would not come out. Natalia’s smile widened. She stepped forward, grinding her heel onto two of my fingers. The agony was so intense it made my scalp tingle. I whimpered, struggling against the pain. So those little things I’d found in Ethan’s office—the hand-knitted scarf, the poorly-made clay mug—they were all from her. I had asked Ethan where they came from. He’d looked at me, his expression flat. “Jealous? They’re from a student I sponsor. If you like them, you can have them.” My possessiveness over Ethan was a fierce, ugly thing. While he was in a meeting, I’d swept everything that wasn’t from me into the trash. When he returned, he’d merely glanced at the clean desk. “You actually threw them out? You have quite a temper.” At the time, I truly believed he didn’t care. Natalia saw the despair in my eyes. She lifted her foot and brought a small hammer down on my already twisted fingers. “Don’t blame me for being cruel,” she whispered. “It was you who forced your way in. It was you who forced him to marry you.” “We were so close, Ethan and I. It was all your fault. Your fault. Your fault!” Natalia’s face twisted and warped before my eyes, growing larger and more grotesque until it consumed my vision. I snapped awake, gasping for air, my heart hammering against my ribs. It was just a dream. Thank God. Hearing the movement, Mark stood up from a chair in the corner, a frown on his face. “Mr. Gabel,” he said into his phone, “she’s awake. Are you planning to come back to ask about the tattoo?”

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In the tenth year of our marriage, my husband, Adam, had an affair. He brought his mistress’s two children to me. He said the children were pitiful and needed a father. My own daughter begged him not to leave, but he was unmoved. I didn’t fight him. I took our daughter and left. Fearing she would be mistreated by a stepfather, I never remarried. Years later, my daughter found a good man. My granddaughter was adorable, and I spent my days caring for her. Life was happy and peaceful. On my sixtieth birthday, my daughter and son-in-law said they were swamped with work. My granddaughter had a last-minute tutoring session. They promised to celebrate with me the next day. But that night, I came across a local video on my phone. In a luxurious private room at a hotel— My daughter and her family were standing with Adam. And his mistress’s two children. The six of them were gathered together, singing “Happy Birthday” to the other woman. And my daughter called her, “Mom.” 1 My daughter insisted that my sixtieth birthday had to be a grand celebration. I told her not to spend so much money. “No,” she said. “I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked all these years. This has to be a proper celebration.” Her words warmed my heart. I was deeply touched. All these years, I had raised her alone. I watched her grow up, get married, and have a child of her own. My son-in-law was a good man, treating me like his own mother. My granddaughter was a sweet, lovely child who called me “Grandma” in the most adorable voice. I was happy. The pain of Adam’s betrayal had slowly healed over the years. So, when my daughter brought up the idea of a big party, I was genuinely moved and looked forward to the day. When you get older, you crave the liveliness of family, the feeling of being surrounded by your children and grandchildren. It gives you something to look forward to. On the day of my birthday, I woke up early. I tidied myself up, took my granddaughter, Rebecca, to school, and left breakfast on the table for my daughter and son-in-law before they left for work. My daughter, Eva, had promised they would finish their work in the morning and come home early to start the party. I stayed home, cleaning the house, waiting for them. But I waited and waited. The agreed-upon time came and went, and Eva still wasn’t home. Worried something had happened, I was just about to call her when my phone rang. It was her. “Mom, something important came up at work, for both me and Will. It’s so sudden. We can’t get away. I don’t think we can celebrate your birthday today…” Her voice was full of guilt. I was disappointed, but their careers were more important. I tried to sound cheerful. “It’s okay, dear. Work comes first. You two focus on your jobs. I’ll go pick up Rebecca from…” “Oh!” She cut me off before I could finish. “Mom, it’s your birthday. You should take a break. A friend of mine is passing by the school this afternoon and will pick Rebecca up and bring her to my office. You just stay home and rest.” Thinking of how hard Eva was working, and how young Rebecca was, I protested. “Let me get her. You’re so busy, and she’s at that rambunctious age. She’ll distract you from your work.” At that, Eva sounded agitated, her voice rising. “No, really, it’s on my friend’s way. Mom, don’t worry about it. Just rest at home. I have a meeting soon, so I have to go.” She hung up before I could say another word. Listening to the dial tone, I sighed. Eva had been working so hard lately, she’d lost weight. I went back into the kitchen to stew a chicken for her and Will, to help them regain their strength. The chicken needed to cook for a long time, and I had already finished the housework. So I sat on the sofa, took out my phone, and decided to rest for a bit. When you’re older, you find simple pleasures in things like scrolling through videos. I opened the app, swiped through a few, but nothing caught my eye. Just as I was about to close it, I accidentally tapped on the “Local” feed. And I saw her. I recognized the back of her head instantly. It was my daughter, Eva. 2 The video had been posted half an hour ago. I tapped on it. The scene was a private room in a hotel. My daughter stood at a table, my son-in-law beside her, holding Rebecca’s hand. All three of them were smiling. Eva turned her head slightly, and the camera panned. And then, I saw Adam. If there was one person in this world I hated, it was, without a doubt, Adam. We had fallen in love when we were young. I thought we would have a lifetime of happiness together. But in the tenth year of our marriage, his first love’s husband died in a car accident, leaving her a widow with two young children. Such a pitiful sight. At first, he helped them secretly, behind my back. When I found out, we had a huge fight. His face was red with fury as he called me heartless. Then, he came to me, with his first love’s two children in his arms, and handed me the divorce papers. “Leo and Violet are too young,” he said. “They can’t be without a father.” So he was divorcing me to be with his first love, to become a father to these two children. As he said this, our own daughter, then named Amy, clung to his leg, sobbing, begging her daddy not to leave. But Adam turned and walked away without a second glance. I didn’t prolong the agony. I took most of his assets and left with our daughter. I changed her surname to mine, Wang. From Amy, she became Eva. Fearing she would be mistreated by a stepfather, I never remarried. I devoted my life to her, watching her grow, go to university, fall in love, get married, and then have the adorable Rebecca. And through all of this, Adam never once appeared in our lives. I heard rumors that he and his first love never had children of their own, that they raised her two children as their own, tirelessly and without complaint. Eva had once told me that she hated Adam as much as I did. I thought that she, who had memories of the divorce, would remember my pain and shun them like the plague. But I never imagined they were still in contact. Not only that, in the video, Eva and Adam stood side by side, heads bowed in conversation, with not a trace of hatred between them. Eva was even leading the “Happy Birthday” song. My son-in-law and Rebecca clapped along, and the mistress’s two children, now grown, joined in the singing. And the woman in the center of their circle, the star of the show, was Adam’s first love, Sophia. She was as radiant as ever, dressed in a beautiful gown, still treated like a princess. She and I share the same birthday. And the cruelest joke of all— My daughter, Eva, the light of my life, after the song finished, walked up to Sophia, hugged her, and called her, “Mom.” 3 My phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor, the video still playing on a loop. My chest ached, but more than the pain, there was a sense of disbelief. I tried to find an excuse, any reason to make it not true. My daughter, who had been my whole world, who had witnessed her father’s cruelty, who had seen how Sophia played the innocent victim while destroying our family—how could she call that woman… Mom? I sat on the sofa for a long time, numb, until the acrid smell of something burning pulled me back to reality. The chicken soup had boiled dry. I rushed to turn off the stove, my mind in a turmoil. I reached for the pot with my bare hands, searing my fingers. A large red welt immediately appeared. Just as I was about to treat the burn, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find a delivery man holding a cake. The cake I had ordered for myself. A small one. When you’re old, you tend to get sentimental. After Eva’s call, I had gone online and ordered a small cake. A celebration for one is still a celebration. I placed the cake on the coffee table and stuck a few candles in it. I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes to make a wish. I had had my wishes all planned out. I wish for my precious daughter to have a happy and smooth life. I wish for my son-in-law to love my daughter forever. I wish for my adorable Rebecca to be healthy and smart. Those were the wishes I had intended to make. But now— When I closed my eyes, all I could see was Eva lying to me about working late, then taking her husband and child to celebrate Sophia’s birthday. In the video, Sophia was surrounded by people, her birthday celebration so lively. They looked like a real family. Unlike me, alone and cold, a clown, a joke. The child I had given birth to had become a knife plunged into my heart. The pain was unbearable. Tears, useless and unwelcome, streamed down my face. I wiped them away and made a new wish. “I wish… that for the rest of my days, I will be happy.” That’s right. For so many years, all my wishes had been for my child. Never for myself. And now, I saw how little it was worth. I took a couple of bites of the cake. It was too sweet, cloying. I glanced at the time. It was already eleven at night. Usually, by now, I would have finished all the housework, put the child to bed, and gone to sleep myself. But tonight, I couldn’t sleep. A moment later— I heard a noise at the front door. Eva tiptoed in, but as she passed the entryway, she saw me sitting in the living room. She froze, a flicker of panic in her eyes. My son-in-law and Rebecca followed behind her, chattering about the birthday party until they saw me and fell silent. Rebecca, trying to act innocent, blinked her big eyes, held out her arms to me, and said she missed her grandma and wanted a hug. But as she ran towards me, I didn’t scoop her up with my usual affection. This child, from the moment she was born, I had poured all my love into her, just as I had with Eva. My son-in-law had no parents, and they were both so busy. In this big city, expenses were high. I had taken care of Rebecca so they could work without worry. But she, so young, had also betrayed me, just like her mother. Eva walked towards me, still trying to pretend nothing was wrong. She rubbed her shoulders and complained about how busy her day had been, promising to make it up to me tomorrow. Her eyes fell on the small cake on the coffee table, and she paused. “Mom, you bought yourself a cake?” Maybe it was because my cake was so small, or maybe because the one they had for Sophia was so large, but the guilt in her eyes deepened. I saw no point in beating around the bush. I asked her directly, “Eva, where were you today?” She froze, her eyes searching my face, as if looking for something. In the end, she chose to play dumb. “Mom, what are you talking about? I was at work.” She glanced at Will and Rebecca. Will nodded quickly. “That’s right, Mom. I was swamped today. My back is killing me.” Rebecca, mimicking her father, shook her head like a bobblehead doll. “Grandma, we didn’t go eat cake today, we didn’t—” Children are not very good at lying. The more they talk, the more they reveal. Eva didn’t even have time to cover her mouth. She could only offer a strained smile, her eyes darting around as she tried to come up with another lie. “Mom, don’t misunderstand. Rebecca was getting restless at my office, so I bought her a small piece of cake.” The flimsy lie was a deep disappointment. I took out my phone, found the video, and tossed it in front of her. She froze, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to explain. But in the end, she sighed, flopped onto the sofa beside me, and adopted a defiant tone. “Oh, Mom! It’s been so many years! I know you hate Dad, but he and I are related by blood. For your sake, I’ve barely seen him all these years. Isn’t that enough? You’re so old now, what grudges can’t you let go of? Even if you can’t, don’t drag me into it! Have I ever missed one of your birthdays? Aunt… Sophia has the same birthday as you. She never says anything, but I know she wants the family to be together. I figured, since we live together, we can celebrate your birthday any day. So I celebrated with her first, and I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. What’s the big deal? Mom, you’re not a child anymore. Stop throwing tantrums! Will and I are exhausted from work every day. Being with Dad is actually relaxing for me. Can’t you just try to see things from my perspective for once?” Her whining words chilled my already cold heart. “So,” I asked, “you’re blaming me for keeping you from your father?” I looked at Eva. She didn’t resemble Adam at all; she looked more like me. That’s why, when we divorced, Adam had poured all his fatherly love onto Sophia’s two children, especially her daughter, Violet. The first time I saw her, she was only six, but she was the spitting image of Sophia. Adam adored her. Back then, Eva had cried hysterically, curled up in my arms, asking me over and over, “Mommy, why doesn’t Daddy want me? Why is he going to be someone else’s daddy? Doesn’t he love me anymore?” Seeing her cry broke my heart. The child I had carried for ten months, saddled with such an irresponsible father. It was a tragedy. But now, it all seemed like a joke. Eva, oblivious to the change in my tone, started to whine like she always did. “Mom, that’s not what I mean. But think about it, Dad is getting old. No matter what, I have his blood in me. After so many years, shouldn’t the hatred have faded? And Aunt Sophia… she’s actually a very nice person. She only stole Dad away because she was worried Leo and Violet wouldn’t have a father. She even apologized to me and buys me gifts, treats me like her own daughter. Whatever happened in the past, you’re old now. Why do you have to keep clinging to that old baggage?” Her complaints were laughable. The father who had abandoned her without a backward glance, the father she had cried for in the middle of the night, asking me why he didn’t want her. And Sophia, the other woman, who had bought her a few gifts and was now forgiven? I shook her hand off me. “Eva, so in your eyes, my not forgiving Adam and Sophia is me being unreasonable?” She nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course it is! I was young then, I’ve forgotten most of the bad stuff. When I close my eyes now, all I remember are the good times with Dad when I was a little girl. We were so happy then. So, Mom, I hope you can forget too. We can be a family again, like before. Aunt Sophia is really nice, you two could probably be like sis… ah!” Before she could finish, I slapped her across the face. She shrieked, jumped to her feet, and clutched her cheek, yelling at me, “Mom, what did you hit me for?! With a temper like yours, it’s no wonder Dad prefers gentle, quiet Sophia!” With that, she ran into her room, crying. My son-in-law and Rebecca followed, trying to comfort her. The door was left ajar. I could vaguely hear their voices. “…getting old and senile…” “…holding a grudge for a lifetime…” “…cranky old woman…” “…so annoying…” And more. These were the words of the daughter I had loved for half my life. In that moment, my heart truly died. I stood up, went to my room, packed my bags, and left the homeowners’ association group chat on my phone. Eva and her husband had worked hard for years, but the housing prices in the capital were astronomical. They were still paying off their mortgage every month. I had felt sorry for them, so I had been supplementing their income with my pension and paying their mortgage, as well as their utilities, groceries, and even Rebecca’s tutoring fees. Now that I was leaving, I would no longer be contributing. Whether they could afford it on their own was no longer my concern. Besides that, I had another property that no one, not even Eva, knew about. I had bought it as a precaution against my son-in-law, in case he turned out to be like Adam. The property was in my name, and I had planned to transfer it to Eva after I was gone. Now, it seemed, that was no longer necessary. That property would be my new home. With a handsome pension every month, I could live quite comfortably on my own. When I left my room, Eva was still crying. The cake was still on the table. Everything was a mess. I dragged my suitcase and left without a second of hesitation.

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His childhood sweetheart was trapped in an elevator shaft for half an hour. In a blind rage, my husband shoved me into a suitcase and zipped it shut. “You will suffer double what she suffered,” he snarled. Curled in the suffocating darkness, I gasped for air, my tears and apologies met only with his cold reprimand. “Take your punishment. A good lesson will teach you to behave.” He locked the suitcase, with me inside it, in the wardrobe. I screamed. I struggled. Blood seeped from the seams of the case, staining the floorboards. Five days later, in a moment of fleeting pity, he decided to end my punishment. “A small lesson to teach a greater one,” he mused. “I’ll let you off this time.” But he didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. My body had already rotted into an unrecognizable sludge. … 1 “That jealous shrew… has she learned her lesson yet? Why hasn’t she been causing trouble the last few days?” “See? A little punishment is all it takes to make her understand her place.” His assistant’s face suddenly went pale. “Mr. Briggs… about your wife… I… I don’t think she’s been let out yet.” A tremor went through Gabriel’s hand, but he quickly suppressed it. “A few more days of reflection won’t hurt her.” His assistant hesitated, then spoke again, his voice trembling. “Sir, a… a terrible smell is coming from the room where you locked Mrs. Briggs. Perhaps… you should go and see?” Gabriel’s voice turned to ice. “A smell? Of course there’s a smell. A woman like her, so desperate to cling to life, she’d do anything to survive. She’s probably eating her own waste. What do you expect?” The assistant tried to speak again, but Gabriel cut him off, his face a mask of disgust. “Enough. I’ll let her out tomorrow. A few days should be enough to teach her some manners. When she comes out, she will apologize properly to Evelyn, and we can put this all behind us.” Just as he finished speaking, Evelyn appeared in the doorway, barefoot and ethereal. Gabriel’s expression melted into one of profound tenderness. “Evie, are you still having nightmares? Don’t worry, I’ve punished Claire severely. I’ll make her pay a thousand times over for what you went through.” He swept her into his arms, his fingers gently tracing the line of her hair. “Gabriel, you’re the best to me,” Evelyn murmured into his chest, her voice a sweet, childish purr. “I’m sure Claire knows she was wrong now. I only wanted an apology, I never wanted her to be punished. She won’t blame me, will she?” Watching their cloying display of affection, I couldn’t help but laugh. A silent, hollow laugh that disturbed nothing. I was already dead. In the last, suffocating moments of my life, my soul had drifted free from that cramped, terrifying suitcase. From this third-person perspective, I could see the dark, crusted stains of blood that had soaked through the fabric. The wardrobe that held my tomb was secured with a heavy padlock, as if to ensure its prisoner would never, ever escape. Even as a spirit, the sight of that scene, the memory of the airless dark, made me want to shut my eyes. Meanwhile, Gabriel was whispering sweet reassurances to Evelyn. “Another nightmare? Don’t be afraid. I’ll always be here to protect you.” He gently stroked her cheek. “You’ve been through so much, my poor Evie.” His voice hardened. “Do you know what she’s like? She’s so desperate to live, she’d even… she’d consume her own filth. A person who values her own life so much, yet she dared to harm you. I’ll make her pay.” I hovered there, stunned into a state beyond tears. Gabriel was right. I did desperately want to live. The suitcase was too small. To make me fit, he had bent my arm back until the bone snapped. I had endured the searing pain, tried to find a way to escape, and when I realized it was hopeless, I focused on conserving my energy, on trying to last as long as possible. But he had forgotten. He had forgotten that when he forced me into that box, I was pregnant. The prolonged, contorted position put unbearable pressure on my belly. A sharp, stabbing pain made me lose control. I thrashed, but it was useless. In the final moments of my life, a primal, desperate will to survive took over. I screamed, I clawed at the zipper with my toenails, fighting for one last sliver of hope. His only response was a cold, merciless judgment from the other side of the door. “You’re this terrified? Imagine how helpless Evie must have felt. You stay in there and feel the pain. It’s the only way you’ll learn.” I had confessed. I had admitted to crimes I didn’t commit, begging him to let me out. Then, a warm gush of blood spread from between my legs, and my strength finally gave out. Through a haze of fading consciousness, I heard his final verdict. “She’s too loud. Still doesn’t know the rules. Lock it up. Let her reflect in silence.” I tried to plead, my voice a strangled rasp, but I could do nothing but listen as the heavy padlock clicked into place, extinguishing the last sliver of light, and my life along with it. 2 “Go and let Claire out. Tell her to clean herself up before she comes to apologize. I don’t want her stinking up the place and offending Evie’s eyes.” Gabriel’s tone was dismissive. The assistant nodded uncomfortably. Evelyn’s eyes sparkled as she clung to Gabriel’s arm. “Gabriel, when Claire comes out, you have to be nice to her. Don’t be angry anymore. You two are married, after all. You shouldn’t fight so ugly.” A flicker of annoyance crossed Gabriel’s face, but his hand gently kneaded her fingers. “She wouldn’t dare be angry. Because of her carelessness, you were trapped in that elevator for half an hour. I can’t even imagine how scared and helpless you must have been. Evie, you’re just too good, too kind. That’s why she takes advantage of you.” His voice was thick with repressed rage, as if he were afraid of frightening her. But to my ears, his words were a symphony of mockery. A week ago, while Gabriel was in a board meeting, Evelyn had come to our apartment to provoke me. “So what if you’re pregnant? He’ll never love the baby. It will be just as pathetic and unloved as you are.” I didn’t bother to argue. I just told her to get out. But on her way down, the elevator malfunctioned. She got stuck between floors. Trapped, she sent a long, dramatic farewell text to Gabriel, saying she probably wouldn’t make it out alive. “I know Claire doesn’t like me. I just hope that after I’m gone, she can take good care of you in my place.” “Gabriel, my love, perhaps we’ll meet in the next life.” The moment Gabriel saw the message, he abandoned his meeting and raced home like a madman, mobilizing every emergency service in the city. He finally found her, unconscious, in the elevator shaft. I had stood nearby, watching him cradle her in his arms, his anguished cries echoing in the hallway. “Evie, don’t leave me…” At the time, I thought they were ridiculous. Trapped for half an hour, and they were acting like it was a life-and-death tragedy. It was only when Gabriel grabbed me by the hair and brutally folded me into the suitcase that I understood. The love was for them. The tragedy was for me. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he had roared, his face contorted with rage. “Evie has claustrophobia! You almost killed her! Even if she survives, she’ll be scarred for life!” “Claire, I’m going to teach you that you can’t just do whatever you want because you’re my wife. If you don’t admit you were wrong, you are never getting out of there.” And now, he was still waiting, his face a cold mask, for me to come crawling back to him, begging for forgiveness. Too bad for him. That was never going to happen. “Sir… Sir! Mrs. Briggs… she… she’s not breathing! There’s no sign of life!” Gabriel froze for a second. I watched him closely, thinking, hoping for at least a flicker of remorse. He just laughed, a casual, dismissive sound. “She’s acting. The wicked live long. You think she’d die that easily?” He tapped his fingers on the desk, his voice detached. “If she’s dead, call the crematorium. Have them come and get her. If she loves pretending to be dead so much, let’s show her the consequences.” He turned to his assistant, his voice sharp. “Go and tell her she has half an hour to get cleaned up and come here. If she doesn’t, the punishment continues until she learns to stop her games.” The assistant was trembling, but before he could speak, Gabriel snapped, “Still standing there? Do you want to be punished too?” He wrapped his arm around Evelyn, his voice softening. “Evie, when she comes, you can’t be soft on her. You have to be strong. I’m going to make her kneel and apologize to you. That’s her punishment. You can’t feel sorry for her, do you understand?” Evelyn looked at him, her eyes wide with feigned compassion. “Oh, Gabriel…” I couldn’t even summon the energy to hate them anymore. But for some reason, my soul felt tethered, unable to leave. I was forced to watch as Gabriel mocked me, laughed at me. 3 This was the man I had loved for ten years. Three years of high school, four years of university, and three years of dating and marriage. What I never knew was that from the very beginning, he saw me as nothing more than a stain on his life. I had followed him like a shadow for seven years, believing my devotion could melt his icy exterior. The day he accepted my confession of love, I was so happy I couldn’t sleep. What I didn’t know was that he only agreed to marry me because his company’s funding had dried up, and he needed an infusion of my family’s capital. In our two years of marriage, I had poured everything I had into supporting his career. I took care of him, catered to his every need, tried to win him over. And slowly, he seemed to change. He started waiting up for me, making me breakfast, gently massaging my stomach when I had cramps. I almost, almost believed I had finally won his love. The day I found out I was pregnant, I was ecstatic, practically dancing around him. But his reaction was ice cold. “Claire. You’re saying you’re pregnant?” I didn’t hear the suspicion in his voice. I just nodded eagerly. “Hah,” he scoffed. “But I have a low sperm count. It’s nearly impossible for me to father a child. You know where that baby came from, don’t you?” I desperately tried to prove my innocence. I relayed the doctor’s words to him. “After nine weeks, we can do a test. I would never, ever betray you.” What I didn’t know was that on the very day I discovered my pregnancy, Evelyn had returned to the country. He had told her about my pregnancy, treating it like a joke. The iceberg I had spent a decade trying to melt had refrozen in an instant. Can a soul feel heartache? All I knew was that I couldn’t breathe. The suffocating despair of the suitcase washed over me again. Gabriel, still holding Evelyn, grew more and more agitated. “Why is she taking so long? After all this time to reflect, she still hasn’t learned her lesson? Is she trying to spite me?” He muttered under his breath, “Your bones better be as hard as your head, Claire.” I watched him, a cold spectator. His hand, which had been calmly playing with a string of prayer beads, was now fumbling, his movements agitated. A flicker of unease crossed his face. “Evie, I’m going to see what she’s up to. Don’t worry, I’ll make her come and apologize to you.” He stood up and strode toward the room where I was confined. As he neared the door, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. “What is that smell?” The assistant stood behind him, his shirt soaked with cold sweat. “Mr. Briggs… you should see for yourself.” I didn’t know what to feel. My spirit tensed. It would take courage to face the gruesome reality of my own death. Gabriel pushed the door open. The suitcase had been dragged out of the wardrobe and thrown onto the floor. The zipper was partially open, then hastily covered again. He stared at it, annoyed. “Claire, I let you out, and you’re still hiding? You plan on living in there forever?” Was it that I didn’t want to come out? I had fought until my last breath, just for one more glimpse of the sun. But there were no more chances. “Still throwing a tantrum? I give you an inch, and you take a mile, is that it?” He walked over to the suitcase. The stench was so overpowering it made his eyes water, but he didn’t stop. He lifted his foot and kicked it. “You stink! Go and clean yourself up! Who are you trying to disgust?” He kicked it hard. The suitcase toppled over, the lid flying open. And there I was, in all my horrifying glory. The body inside was twisted into an unnatural shape, my arm bent back at a ninety-degree angle. The look of terror was frozen on my face, my eyes and mouth stretched wide, my eyeballs bulging. My lower body was caked in a dark, dried crust of blood. Gabriel stumbled back, his voice shaking. 4 “Who put this… this dead thing in here to scare me? Where’s Claire? Find her! Does she think she can just plant a mannequin here and escape? I’m not an idiot! Find her, now!” I laughed until spiritual tears streamed down my face. What was this act of feigned ignorance? I was lying right there, my body rotting. Where else was he going to find me? “Mr. Briggs, your wife… she’s dead! The body is decomposing!” the assistant stammered. Gabriel glared at him. “You’re lying! You’re helping her trick me? Do you think I’m a fool? That I’ll see a smelly mannequin and believe she’s dead? I’ll tear this city apart, but I will find her!” He stormed out, ordering the room to be locked again, and sent his men to search for me. Evelyn saw his grim face and hurried to his side, wrapping her arms around his neck. “What’s wrong, Gabriel? Did Claire make you angry again? Don’t worry, Evie’s here for you.” He picked her up and sat on the sofa, his voice still trembling. “She’s gone too far this time. Faking her own death to run away! But no matter where she goes, I’ll find her. She still owes you an apology, and I’ll make her say it to your face.” So, even after seeing my corpse, he refused to believe it. Was it just because he needed me alive to apologize to Evelyn? I felt a wave of pathetic, self-deprecating humor. He pulled up the security footage from the room. The video clearly showed me being locked in, my struggles, my screams, and then… the gradual silence. But Gabriel still wouldn’t believe it. “The footage is the same at the end. It would be easy to edit. Claire, you really are a master of deception.” He slammed his fist into the computer monitor. Evelyn yelped, startled by his sudden violence, and clung to him, her eyes wide. Gabriel immediately softened, his voice turning gentle again. “It’s okay, Evie, don’t be scared. I’m just angry that she’s so irresponsible. Trying to just run away! Don’t you worry. I’ll have her back here before your birthday. And then, I’ll make her kneel before everyone and beg for your forgiveness!” A triumphant gleam appeared in Evelyn’s eyes. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. It was a fleeting touch, but it made Gabriel blush. Even I felt a little embarrassed for them. Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude on your little moment. I had always known about Evelyn. I knew about her from the moment I first fell for Gabriel. His social media profile picture was a childhood photo of the two of them. In it, a tiny Evelyn beamed at the camera, and he looked at her with an adoration that was impossible to hide. Some people’s love is just like that: blatant and unapologetic. Just like mine.

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I was treating my in-laws to dinner when my wife’s male assistant showed up at checkout. He saw my mother-in-law packing up the leftover fish soup and slapped the bag out of her hands. The soup splashed all over her. “If you can’t afford it, don’t eat here! How can a poor old hag like you be CEO Chan’s mother-in-law? Stop embarrassing her!” I asked the restaurant to prepare a fresh portion of the soup for us to take home. The assistant punched me to the ground. “This is a members-only restaurant. You’re using CEO Chan’s card, aren’t you? Can’t you earn your own money? You have to use her money to support your hick parents?” The stress sent my father-in-law to the hospital. I called my wife, Valerie, to come and sign the surgical consent forms. She just laughed. “Adrian told me everything. Your father gets sick and you try to trick me into paying for it? Has your whole family gone crazy for money?” “If he’s going to die, tell him to die quickly. And keep him away from me. It’s bad luck.” 1 “Valerie, your father is in the emergency room. You need to get to the hospital, now!” Her voice was casual, unconcerned. “Oh? What a coincidence. The moment I get to Adrian’s place, my dad suddenly has a problem? Thomas, next time you make up an excuse, can you curse yourself? Stop cursing my parents.” My father-in-law was downstairs in the ER, and my mother-in-law had fainted from the shock. I was by her bedside, completely overwhelmed. The doctor had already issued a critical condition notice for my father-in-law. Clinging to the last shred of our connection, I wanted Valerie to see her father one last time. I swallowed my anger and tried again. “I’m not lying. You can ask Adrian if you don’t believe me. I took your parents to dinner, and he was the one who kept provoking them until your father collapsed. Dad’s been declared critical. You need to come and sign the papers. If you wait any longer, you might not get to see him…” Valerie cut me off with a roar of fury. I heard her phone clatter to the floor, her shouts coming in broken waves. “Thomas, are you ever going to quit?! Adrian told me everything! Your hick parents came to town, and you used my money to treat them to a fancy dinner. I let that slide. Now the old man is sick, and you want me to come over? You just want me to be there to swipe my card, don’t you? You think I don’t know your little schemes?” “I told you before, Thomas! You only married me for my money, didn’t you? Well, you’ll never see a single cent of it, not even when you die!” I could hear Adrian murmuring comforts to her in the background. Then, his voice came on the line, sharp and mocking. “Thomas, I saw it with my own eyes. The old country woman is fine. Why don’t you put her on the phone? Don’t you think CEO Chan would recognize her own mother’s voice?” I fell silent. My mother-in-law had just fallen asleep in her hospital bed, an oxygen mask over her face. Waking her up now, just to prove to her own daughter that her husband was dying in the ER… I couldn’t imagine the pain it would cause her. After a long pause, I sighed. “Your mother just fell asleep. I don’t want to disturb her.” There was no response. I could hear the rustle of clothes, followed by the soft moans of two people lost in a passionate kiss. A long moment passed before Valerie’s voice, husky and intimate, came back on the line. “If you can’t provide any proof, then stop bothering me. Or would you rather listen to us get down to business?” Adrian laughed. “If you’re into that, Valerie, I don’t mind. But it does kind of kill the mood. Why don’t we just turn off the phone? Then no one can interrupt us.” “Okay~ Whatever you say.” The line went dead. The world returned to a suffocating silence. A lump of acid formed in my throat. My fingers clenched into a fist. My in-laws were good people. Even though my marriage to Valerie was a hollow shell, I still wished them health and longevity. But now, my father-in-law was fighting for his life, and his own daughter would rather fool around with her assistant than be by his side. They were educated, cultured people, too dignified to argue with Adrian in public. But their restraint had only emboldened him, letting him spew his venom until he’d literally pushed my father-in-law to the brink of death. 2 Two hours earlier, I was having dinner with my in-laws at The Lunar Court. The Lunar Court used to be my family’s restaurant. It was also their favorite, and Valerie’s. As we were leaving, my mother-in-law carefully packed up the leftover fish soup. “Valerie said she’s coming home for dinner tonight. She’s loved the fish soup here since she was a little girl. I’ll take it home and make her some noodles. A little taste of her childhood.” She was smiling, telling me stories about Valerie as a child, when a figure suddenly rushed forward and slapped the container out of her hands. The hot soup splashed all over her, getting in her eyes. My father-in-law and I forgot about everything else, scrambling to help her. But the man wasn’t finished. “Thomas, do you know where you are? This is The Lunar Court! Where did this poor trash come from, packing up leftover soup? You have the nerve to eat here?” He was decked out in designer clothes, clothes Valerie had bought him. He looked my in-laws up and down with disdain. “What are these old geezers wearing? If your parents are this poor, they should stick to street stalls. What are they doing at The Lunar Court? Valerie was right. You really are just after her money! Shameless!” My father-in-law understood. Adrian thought my in-laws were my parents and was mocking them for being poor. A man of dignity, he chose not to correct him, but to defend my parents instead. “Young man, how can you speak like that? It’s not your place to decide who is worthy of eating at The Lunar Court. Besides, we are your elders, and Thomas is older than you. You should not be so disrespectful. Please, apologize.” But Adrian didn’t apologize. He lifted his foot and aimed a vicious kick at my father-in-law. If I hadn’t pulled him back, he would have crashed to the floor. “Apologize?” Adrian sneered. “Do you know who I am? I’m the boyfriend of the CEO of the Chan Corporation! All I have to do is ask, and she’d give me this whole restaurant. What are you?” “You probably don’t know, but your useless son has already been kicked out of the family! He didn’t get a penny! And you’re here, enjoying a feast, expecting CEO Chan to foot the bill? Dream on!” As he spoke, a line of uniformed security guards from the restaurant appeared behind him. The staff had all been replaced since I last managed the place. My in-laws were always low-key, so no one recognized us. The guards bowed respectfully to Adrian, then, without a word, they forced the three of us to the ground. “How dare you poor filth eat at The Lunar Court! Do you know who you’ve offended? This is CEO Chan’s favorite. You’ve upset him. Let’s see how she deals with you!” My father-in-law already had bad legs. His knee hit the ground hard, and he couldn’t get back up. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. “Stop!” I yelled. “I am Thomas Qin, Valerie Chan’s husband! And these are her parents! Open your eyes and look! Get Mr. Chan to a hospital now! If anything happens to him, you will be held responsible!” The manager sneered and slapped me hard across the face. “I’ve seen this pathetic dine-and-dash trick a million times! People claim to be CEO Chan’s boyfriend every day to get a free meal. Funny how we’ve never seen her bring you here. So far, the only person she’s ever personally brought to dine here is Mr. Pitt. We only listen to Mr. Pitt.” Adrian beamed, his smile wide and predatory. “These people probably can’t pay. Take them to the kitchen. They can wash dishes to work off their bill.” The manager and his men ignored our protests. They confiscated our phones and threw us into the kitchen, forcing us to wash dishes and scrub floors under their watchful eyes. Any hesitation was met with a blow. It wasn’t until my father-in-law, locked in the sweltering garbage room, collapsed from lack of air that the manager realized he might have a death on his hands. They quickly threw us out the back door. As I was getting into the ambulance, my eyes met Adrian’s. He was standing at the restaurant entrance, his expression dark and menacing. “Thomas,” he said, his voice a low threat, “this was just a little lesson. This is what happens when you cross me.”

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1 My mother was on her deathbed. I called my brother, who was on vacation in Egypt with his wife, and begged him to come back to see our mother one last time. By some miracle, she pulled through. But his wife, my sister-in-law, died in a tragic accident abroad. While sorting through her belongings, my brother found her diary. In it, she wrote about how my mother and I had alienated her, how she felt she had no place in our family. That was the last straw. My brother cut us out of his life, and for nine years, we didn’t hear a word from him. Then, on the tenth anniversary of his wife’s death, he set our house on fire, killing us all. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother was first admitted to the hospital. The first thing I did was rush to her side. Her condition was already critical, her life sustained only by the rhythmic pulse and hiss of a ventilator. The room was silent save for the sterile, incessant beeping of the machines. A knock at the door broke the quiet. The doctor beckoned my father and me into the hallway. “I need you to sign the critical condition notice,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “We’re at the final stage. Whether she makes it through is… well, it’s up to her now.” The pen trembled in my father’s hand, the tip hovering over the signature line, unable to make its mark. Seeing his anguish, I took charge. I gently took the pen from him and signed my name, Anna. The doctor took the clipboard. “If there are any other close family members,” he advised, his eyes full of sympathy, “you should call them. She may not last the night.” At those words, my father’s composure shattered. He broke down, sobbing like a child. After a long moment, he wiped his tears, his face etched with grief. “Anna,” he rasped, “call your brother. Tell Nicholas to come home.” My immediate instinct was to refuse. In my last life, I did exactly that. I called Nicholas, and he caught the first flight back from Egypt. The good news was that my mother, seeing him, rallied. She fought off the illness and made a full recovery. The bad news was that his wife, Rachel, left alone in a foreign country, was abducted. The next time we saw her, she was a body in a morgue. Nicholas never blamed us to our faces, but I knew he could never forgive us. The memory of the fire he set, the heat and the smoke, was a phantom limb I could still feel. I couldn’t go through that again. “Dad,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s halfway across the world. Even if we called him now, he’d never make it in time. I’m here. I can take care of everything. We don’t need to bother him.” My father looked at me, confused. I was the one who always ran to my big brother for everything. Why the sudden change of heart? “Anna, I get that you want to step up, but if your brother doesn’t get to see your mother one last time, he’ll hate you for it!” But Dad, you don’t understand, I thought. If he comes back, his wife will die, and he’ll hate all of us. I couldn’t voice those fears. Instead, I gripped his hand, my voice steady and urgent. “Dad, trust me. Mom is going to pull through. I know it.” He stared at me for a long time before finally putting his phone away. Just then, our family group chat buzzed. It was Nicholas. I opened the message, my heart sinking as I read. “I know you guys never liked Rachel, but we’ve been on this trip for days. Has it occurred to any of you to even ask how we are?” “Other people’s families are a safe haven. You all just treat me like I’m invisible, don’t you?” “Anna, say something. You fall off the face of the earth?” I didn’t have to guess. Those were Rachel’s words, channeled through my brother. She had a major princess complex with a pauper’s reality, always finding fault, always dreaming of a life she couldn’t afford. But I couldn’t say that now. With a sigh, I typed a reply while we waited for news about Mom. “Nicholas, Rachel, hope you made it safely! Have an amazing time. Things are just a little crazy at home right now, Mom and Dad are swamped.” That night, luck was on our side. Mom’s condition stabilized enough for surgery. “If she wakes up on her own after this,” the surgeon told us, “she’ll be out of the woods.” My father, overwhelmed with gratitude, shook the surgeon’s hand, repeating “thank you” over and over. As we waited outside the OR, a nurse from admissions approached us. “Excuse me, who is the family of Helen Miller?” My father and I raised our hands. “Her bill is overdue,” the nurse said, handing us a statement. “And this doesn’t include the costs for the upcoming surgery.” My mother had been in the ICU for three days. There was one surgery when she was admitted, and now this was the second. All told, the medical bills had climbed to an astronomical forty-eight thousand dollars. 2 I was a recent graduate with barely any savings. My parents were hardworking, blue-collar folks their whole lives; the fifteen thousand they’d managed to put away was the fruit of a lifetime of labor. We pooled everything we had, called in every small favor, and still came up five thousand dollars short. With no other choice, I dialed my brother’s number. “Nicholas? It’s me. Listen, something’s happened at home. Could you possibly lend me five thousand dollars?” His response was immediate and scathing. “Have you no shame, Anna? Rachel and I are on a budget over here, pinching every penny, and you have the nerve to ask for five grand? Do you think money grows on trees?” “No, it’s not for me,” I stammered. “It’s for the family. It’s an emergency…” He scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “An ‘emergency’? Let me guess, you got yourself into debt with some online loan shark, didn’t you? Rachel saw right through you from the start. She told me to set you straight, but I actually defended you. I thought you were better than that. Turns out…” I opened my mouth to explain, but he cut me off. “Listen to me. I’m having a great time with my wife, and I don’t want you ruining our mood. We don’t have a leech like you in our family, Anna!” He hung up. When I tried to call back, it went straight to voicemail. Desperate, I sent him a text. “Nicholas, this is seriously urgent. Please, just lend me the five thousand. I’ll write you an IOU, I promise.” His response was to block my number. Seeing my distress, my dad took his phone and called him himself. “Nicholas? Anna tried to borrow money from you. Why did you block her?” At the sound of my name, my brother’s voice turned ragged with irritation. “Anna, Anna, it’s always about Anna with you guys. You don’t give a damn about your son all the way out here, do you?” My dad tried to placate him. “Son, it’s not what you think. We’re at a downtown hospital. You know people here. Even if you can’t give us the money, maybe you could help us out, make a few calls?” But Nicholas had no intention of helping us. Or rather, of helping me. Hearing we were at the hospital only fueled his bitterness. “I remember when I was a kid with a stomach ache, begging to go to the doctor, and you told me to tough it out. But now little Anna needs a hospital, and you rush her right over? Other families favor the son; you two don’t even care about your firstborn!” “Since you obviously don’t care about me, let Anna handle everything! Why are you even calling me?” It was like he’d been brainwashed, spouting nonsense without a second thought, refusing to listen to a word of explanation. The only person who could ever talk sense into him was Mom, and she was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. My dad looked lost, utterly bewildered by his son’s behavior. “Did we do something to upset him? Why is he acting like this, like he’s a different person?” One person came to my mind: my sister-in-law, Rachel. She’d always looked at my mother and me with suspicion, as if we were plotting against her. After she had a miscarriage, she treated us like enemies. None of us ever understood why. Maybe only she knew the real reason. “Dad, forget it,” I said, my voice heavy. “If Nicholas won’t help us, we’ll figure something else out.” We couldn’t just give up. It was only money. I’d swallow my pride and call our relatives. If that failed, I’d beg the doctors for a payment plan. But when I called my uncle, the response I got was completely unexpected. “Anna? Oh, it’s you,” he said, his tone thick with disapproval. “Look, I know I’m old-fashioned, but for a young girl like you to get pregnant out of wedlock… and then to call your family asking for abortion money? Doesn’t that make you feel cheap? It just reeks of desperation. Don’t you have any self-respect?” I was floored. “Uncle Mark, what are you talking about? Unwed pregnancy? Abortion? I’m calling to borrow money, yes, but it’s not for… I’m not…” He wouldn’t let me finish. “Your brother already gave us all a heads-up. He said you needed to be taught a lesson this time, to stop being so reckless. And look, I get it. You’re a young woman, you have certain… desires. But you need to protect yourself, kid.” He hung up, leaving me in stunned silence. I finally understood. Nicholas had anticipated I’d turn to our relatives and had systematically poisoned the well, cutting off my last resort. I made several more calls, but the answer was always the same. In that moment, I was hit with a profound, soul-crushing helplessness. I had truly hit rock bottom. 3 How could my own brother be so cruel? How much did he have to hate me to do this? My constant calls must have annoyed my uncle, because he showed up at the hospital, ready to lecture me in person. “Anna, you’re not a kid anymore, but you sure are reckless. You don’t even know the first thing about men, and you go and get yourself pregnant? And you,” he said, turning to my dad, “you need to keep a better eye on her, not just dote on your precious son.” My uncle had always favored Nicholas. He didn’t like me, and he certainly didn’t like my father. He wasn’t here to help; he was here to gloat. I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the billing office. “Uncle Mark, please, just lend me the five thousand dollars. I’m begging you. After this is over, you can yell at me all you want!” He shoved me away, and I stumbled, falling to the polished floor. “You think money just appears out of thin air? Five thousand dollars? You’ve completely lost your mind.” He was about to launch into another tirade when a sound from my mother’s room cut through the air. A long, piercing beep. The line on her heart monitor went flat.

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The son of the city’s wealthiest man was framed in a high-profile case. To let his little mistress shine, my husband deliberately lied to me about the court date. I arrived late, only to be blocked by the tycoon’s bodyguards and berated for my irresponsibility. Seeing through my husband’s scheme, I simply handed the role of lead defense counsel over to the other woman. “Since you’re so eager,” I said, “you’d better put on a good show.” My colleagues warned me not to be impulsive. This was a golden opportunity to impress the city’s most powerful man. But no one knew that I was the only lawyer in the entire country who could win this case. Even if the little mistress managed to argue her way through the first hearing, without me, her defense was doomed to fail. The tycoon’s son would still face prison. And my husband’s blind protection of her would only lead to his own ruin. 1 The son of our city’s top billionaire, Mr. Wallace, was ensnared in a meticulously planned frame-up, a major financial fraud case. One wrong move, and he could face the death penalty. But the day before the hearing, my husband, a partner at our law firm, told me the court time had been pushed back an hour, claiming the case files needed a final review. I had pulled a week of all-nighters for this case. But when I rushed to the courthouse, I was informed that a junior associate, Jenna, had already taken my place. Mr. Wallace, flanked by his bodyguards, cornered me, ready to tear me apart. “I trusted you! I hired you to defend my son, and you can’t even show up to the hearing on time! Do you have any idea what you almost did? You almost destroyed him!” I stood there, stunned. Just then, my husband, Mark, stormed out of the courthouse and laid into me as well. “Where have you been, Sierra?” “The hearing started, we were looking for you everywhere! Did you just forget about a case this important?” I stared at him in disbelief. What did he mean, forget? Wasn’t he the one who told me yesterday that the hearing had been postponed? Seeing Mr. Wallace seething with rage, I was about to explain when Mark cut me off. “It’s one thing to be absent-minded at home, but to get the time wrong for a court hearing? How did you even pass the bar?” he sneered. “Luckily, Jenna was available and stepped in at the last minute. This case can’t afford any mistakes. Did you stand us up because you wanted to drag the entire firm down with you?” In that instant, everything clicked into place. This whole elaborate charade… it was all for Jenna. Mr. Wallace was a titan of industry, his influence unmatched. Every lawyer, from junior associates to senior partners, was desperate for a piece of this case, a chance to get in his good graces and make a name for themselves. But Mr. Wallace had chosen me. I remember the day we signed the retainer agreement. Mark had been dripping with sarcasm. “Well done, Sierra. You act so high and mighty, so above it all, but you managed to talk Mr. Wallace into picking you personally.” “What a hypocrite. Always pulling strings behind the scenes, never giving the younger lawyers a chance.” At the time, I didn’t understand what he meant. Now, I did. Mark had deliberately made me miss the hearing so Jenna could have her moment in the spotlight. Just then, Jenna walked out of the courtroom. This case was far too complex for a single hearing, but from the look on her face, you’d think she’d already won. She put on a show of sweet concern. “Sierra, are you feeling unwell? Is that why you couldn’t make it? But for a case this important, you really should have given us a heads-up if you needed to take time off.” I watched her saccharine performance with cold eyes. As if she didn’t know exactly why I was late. Jenna then turned to Mark, her face a mask of apology. “Mark, I only stepped in because I was afraid the hearing would be delayed. I know as a junior associate I’m not qualified for a case like this. It was against the firm’s rules. You can punish me.” Mark smiled, completely ignoring my presence. “You did great. When it comes to a case, there’s no junior or senior. A dedicated and responsible person is what makes a truly good lawyer.” Watching the two of them, so wrapped up in their own little world, I could only laugh. Jenna was our junior from law school. I was the one who recommended her for a job at the firm. I had hoped she would bring some fresh energy, but instead, she spent her days flirting with the wealthy clients from our divorce cases. And at some point, she had gotten closer and closer to my husband. She was always calling him by his first name, her tone cloyingly intimate. During her probationary period, her mistakes nearly tanked our entire team on multiple occasions. But Mark always covered for her, saying, “Jenna’s still young. We should give her more support.” He and I had fought about it several times. “Were you perfect when you first started out? Can’t you give a newcomer a chance to make mistakes?” Even back then, I felt something in Mark slowly changing. Today, I finally saw him for who he truly was. I smiled at the two of them, a pair of scheming snakes. “In that case,” I said nonchalantly, “let her continue with the case.” Jenna immediately waved her hands in mock protest. “I’m just a junior associate! How could I possibly handle a VIP client’s case?” “Why not? Rules are made to be broken. Mr. Wallace was just praising your outstanding performance to me. You have a bright future ahead of you!” Mark looked at Jenna with pride shining in his eyes. “You’re going to be the star lawyer of our firm. I believe in you!” I let out a cold laugh and shoved my defense counsel ID badge into Jenna’s hand. She verbally refused, but her hand shot out and snatched it, as if afraid I’d change my mind. “Jenna must be exhausted. I’ll call a car to take you back to the office! I’ll order some barbecue later to celebrate!” Mark walked away with Jenna, not sparing me a single glance. Watching them walk away side-by-side, a bitter taste filled my mouth. A few minutes later, a post from Jenna popped up on my social media feed. “The luckiest thing in the world is when a dark horse meets a patron who believes in them. Thank you to my dearest mentor for giving me this chance. I’ll do my best!” The accompanying photo was of the two of them, giving a thumbs-up to the camera. A long string of likes followed. I glanced at it and silently locked my phone. A superficial victory in court meant nothing. I had studied this case inside and out. Mr. Wallace’s son was a classic scapegoat. These financial cases looked simple on the surface, but they involved a complex web of interdisciplinary financial knowledge, including niche topics like blockchain technology. If the defense lawyer lacked experience in these areas, the real culprits would exploit those loopholes, and we would lose. Combined with the high-profile nature of the defendant, it would be easy for the other side to use public opinion against us. But there were very few lawyers in the country who understood blockchain. I could say with confidence that I was the only one who could completely clear my client’s name. As for Jenna’s supposed victory? It was an illusion. The moment the other side made their next move and forced a second hearing, she would be crushed. She was desperate to make a name for herself in the legal world, but she didn’t understand that winning a case was about more than just reciting legal precedents from a textbook. After sending Jenna off, Mark came back to wrap things up. Seeing me still standing there, his face was a mask of impatience, all traces of his earlier gentleness gone. “I told you you couldn’t handle it, but you had to be so stubborn.” “Making a mistake like this in front of the court… you can forget about a promotion now.” “But you’re getting old anyway. It’s about time you took a step back and focused on taking care of our home.” He was always like this. He hated that I was strong, that I overshadowed him. But he never understood. I was just doing my job, fighting for every single one of my clients. Back at the firm, I found Jenna sitting in my office. “Sierra, a client of Mr. Wallace’s status probably shouldn’t be seen waiting in the main lobby. How about we switch offices? Oh, and by the way, could you please give me all the case files? It’ll help me prepare for the next steps.” The other lawyers in the office were openly staring, their ears perked for gossip. A junior associate being promoted to lead counsel was unheard of. And for the firm to tacitly approve it? Even more so. I could feel the pity in their eyes, as if they were all wondering how I would survive in the legal world now that I had offended a client as powerful as Mr. Wallace. I didn’t get angry. I simply gestured for her to take the seat. Just as Jenna was about to sit down, looking triumphant, I yanked the chair out from under her. She landed on the floor with a painful thud, her face contorting in pain. The office erupted in laughter. Mark saw what happened and rushed over, his voice booming. “What do you think you’re doing, Sierra? Are you trying to bully your colleagues now?” I just smiled coldly. Bullying? I wouldn’t dare. “I thought you had already familiarized yourself with the case. I didn’t realize you hadn’t even looked at the files before you went into court. Did you think this was a game?” “And another thing, this is a law firm. You earn your place in this office with skill, not by pulling strings.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it sent a ripple of chatter through the office. Everyone finally realized that Jenna’s sudden promotion wasn’t earned; it was a favor. I turned and walked away, not wanting to deal with them any longer. Mark, furious, chased after me, yelling about how irresponsible I was. “Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a lawyer!” I ignored him, my face a blank mask as I left the firm. But honestly, it would be a lie to say I wasn’t hurting. A large part of the reason I chose to study law was because of Mark. His father was an alcoholic who would come home drunk and beat him and his mother. I remember him telling me when we were in high school that he wanted to be a lawyer, to open his own firm. He wanted to bring his father to justice, to save his mother from that hell. So, I chose law too. I specialized in family and criminal law, hoping I could be his support. When I told him my plans, Mark was moved to tears. He held me tight and swore he would never marry anyone else, that he would build a different kind of law firm with me, and that we would become a legendary legal duo. Then Jenna appeared.

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In the corpse-piles of a battlefield, I found the Crown Prince, his memory gone. I fought off wild dogs with him for scraps of food. Later, when he returned to the royal court, the King asked me what reward I desired. A line of text appeared before my eyes, visible only to me: 【Don’t tell me the side character is actually going to ask the Prince to marry her.】 【A common huntress from the countryside, daring to dream of marrying into the royal family? No wonder she ends up being forced to drink poison.】 So, marrying the Prince was that dangerous. I shivered, hiding the small sachet he had given me, and bowed my head to the stone floor. “Your Majesty, all that Edith asks… is to be sent back to my home in the Northern March.” 1 The King was silent for a long moment. “Is that all you wish for?” I thought about it, then answered honestly. “If it’s not too much trouble, a little money and a large house would be nice, too.” I peeked at the King’s expression and quickly corrected myself. “A small house would also be fine.” It was just that a small house wouldn’t have room for chickens and ducks, or a trellis for my climbing flowers. Silence fell over the throne room. Everyone had assumed I would demand the Prince marry me. After all, the Northern March was a harsh and unforgiving land. If I hadn’t found Prince Drake, gravely wounded and without memory, in that mass grave, he would have frozen to death that winter. A debt for a life saved is a heavy one. Even the King hadn’t expected my wish to be so… simple. The text before my eyes erupted into a chaotic argument: 【I didn’t expect the side character to be so decent. My heart aches for her.】 【It’s just a tactic, feigning retreat to advance later. All the scheming second female leads are like this.】 【If the side character is gone, the main female lead and the Prince can finally be together.】 【But the Prince is the devoted second male lead! If he gets the girl, what happens to the main male lead?】 The King told me to wait one month. “The Border Legion is preparing to depart. You may travel with them back to the Northern March.” “Edith,” he said, his expression unreadable, “you have been wronged.” But I didn’t feel wronged at all. “I have fine clothes to wear and good food to eat. Edith is already very content.” As for the Prince… I touched the sachet, a pang of sorrow in my chest. I’d just have to eat a few extra bowls of stew. The sadness would pass. 2 As I was leaving, the Lord Chamberlain, the head of the palace staff, pressed a food box into my hands with a benevolent smile. “His Majesty said you are too thin, my lady. Eat more to build up your strength. On the day you depart, he has a special gift for you.” I accepted the King’s decree and happily headed out of the inner palace. A cat suddenly darted out in front of me, and I stumbled, spilling soup and broth all over myself. A woman’s light laugh drifted from nearby. “A peasant from the countryside. Even dressed in fine silks, you still manage to ruin them.” I looked up. A group of noble ladies were watching me from a distance, but none came forward. The magical text flared with excitement: 【Ah, the female lead is here! I love a pampered, arrogant noblewoman.】 【I’m voting for the Prince. This kind of forbidden ‘sibling’ romance is the best.】 【How can someone so cruel be the female lead? She should eat something better for her soul.】 The one who had spoken was Lady Jasna. According to the text, her parents had sacrificed their lives to save the King during an assassination attempt years ago. Taking pity on the orphaned child, the King had brought her to court and raised her as his own daughter. She was the one who had been closest to Drake during his youth. Jasna’s gaze was contemptuous, like she was assessing livestock. “She has some beauty, I suppose. No wonder she managed to seduce my dear ‘brother’ Drake.” My thin summer gown was soaked, clinging uncomfortably to my body. I stood there in embarrassment, not knowing what to do. A handmaiden rushed forward with a cloak, but Jasna stopped her, taking it herself to place around my shoulders. “Edith, do you truly believe Prince Drake will marry you?” she whispered in my ear, her fingers digging into an old wound on my shoulder. “The whole capital is talking about how you fought with dogs over scraps of food with the Prince. The rumors are everywhere. If I were you, I would have left long ago, instead of shaming His Highness in the capital.” She thought I had come to the King to demand a royal marriage. The pain was so sharp that tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t help but push her away. “He wouldn’t!” I snapped. Drake would never think I was a disgrace. I hadn’t pushed her hard, but Jasna stumbled back dramatically, falling to the ground. A sharp stone on the path cut a long, bloody gash in her arm. “Lady Jasna!” The courtiers panicked. Drake arrived just in time to witness the scene. He rushed to help Jasna up, his eyes blazing with fury. “Edith! You presume upon the debt I owe you to act with such arrogance? Now you dare to harm the Lady Jasna herself!” “It wasn’t me…” I tried to explain, my voice small. “Brother, don’t blame Edith,” Jasna said, clutching her bleeding arm as if defending me. “She grew up without guidance. It’s only natural for her to be a bit… savage.” Drake wrapped an arm around her, his gaze on me turning to ice. “Do you think this is still the wilds of the North? You have no manners, no breeding. What’s the difference between you and a beast?” “Apologize to Jasna. Or get out of my sight.” His words struck me like a slap. My eyes stung, and a dull ache spread through my chest. So that’s how he saw me. He was ashamed of me too. I lowered my head and apologized to Jasna. Jasna turned away, tugging on Drake’s sleeve. “Brother, please, don’t force her.” Drake’s brow furrowed in anger. “Is that how you apologize?” Before we came to the capital, Drake had personally taught me court etiquette. “The capital is full of rules, Edith. You must be careful. You can’t be so carefree.” At the time, I had been practicing a clumsy curtsy. I grew nervous, wringing my hands. “What if I don’t learn it right? What if I really offend a noble?” Drake had smiled and gently smoothed my messy bangs. “Then you offend them. You are my savior, Edith. Who would dare to say a word against you?” Thank goodness I remembered all the rules in the end. I knelt properly on both knees, my forehead touching the sharp gravel of the path. “My Lady Jasna, this peasant deserves death for her crime. I beg for your mercy.” The stones were sharp. Soon, my forehead was a bloody mess. Drake’s expression flickered. “Edith, you don’t have to—” But Jasna tugged on his arm, crying, “Brother, it hurts.” And so, he said no more. The palace path was silent. I tried to be optimistic. The King had told me to keep my departure a secret, especially from Drake. A few bows were a small price to pay. I couldn’t let Drake throw me out. If he did, there would be no one to take me home. Before I fainted, I saw Drake say something to me. But I was in too much pain to hear. 3 In my dream, I was back in the Northern March. The winters there were brutal. When I first found Drake, my own pot was empty. The villagers urged me to leave him. “Edith, you’re about to starve yourself. What are you doing with him?” I was stubborn as an ox. “This is how my father found me. It’s a life. I can’t just leave it.” In the end, Old Matty, my neighbor, couldn’t bear to watch and gave me a bowl of thin rice porridge. I drank half and poured the rest down the throat of the blue-lipped Drake. He survived. But when he woke, he knew nothing but his name. The snows had blocked the mountain passes, and we couldn’t hunt. We were freezing and starving in my little cabin. Drake snuck out and returned in the middle of the night with a pouch of shriveled grain. I asked him where he got it. He grinned proudly. “I climbed two mountains and raided a field mouse’s burrow. Impressive, right?” His fingers were red and raw. The next day, they were covered in chilblains, itching terribly by the fire. I worried he would scratch them open, so I wrapped them carefully in strips of cloth. We survived the winter. I took him hunting in the mountains. Drake was a natural, learning everything instantly. The mountains were full of wild beasts. One day, we were carrying a rabbit back when we were cornered by a pack of feral dogs, their eyes red with hunger. I told Drake to drop the rabbit, but he stubbornly protected it. “No. This rabbit will feed us for two days.” We ran for miles before we finally shook off the pack. We stood there, covered in blood, clutching our hunting knives, and shared a weary smile. I cooked the rabbit that night, the tender meat mixed with hot peppers. The spice made Drake’s eyes water, but he didn’t leave a single drop of the broth. On the day of the Midwinter Festival, he shyly handed me a small sachet made of rough cloth, the stitching clumsy. “Edith, will you marry me?” I pretended to be calm and nodded. “Alright.” But I couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across my face. Soon, even Old Yeller, the dog at the village entrance, knew that Edith the foundling was getting married. Edith was going to have a family again. It was a tradition in the North that before a wedding, the couple would present a pair of carved wooden dolls to the spirits to bless their union with peace and happiness. I secretly learned how to carve from the villagers, getting several blisters on my hands, wanting to surprise Drake. But before the wedding, Drake disappeared. I thought a tiger had gotten him. I searched the entire mountain, weeping, and in my distress, I fell into a boar trap. An old hunter rescued me, but I was left with a deep scar on my shoulder. The next time I saw him, he was being escorted back to the capital by the Border Legion. The Crown Prince had returned. “Drake, will you come back to see me?” I clutched the cloth sachet, a sudden sadness gripping my heart. Drake sat on his horse, his silk robes finer than anything I had ever seen. They clashed terribly with the shabby sachet. The wooden doll hidden in my sleeve suddenly felt too crude to give him. He reached out a hand to me, his eyes gentle. “Edith, come with me.” “The capital is vast. There is so much good food and so many fun things to do. I can give you anything you want.” As if possessed, I took a step back and shook my head firmly. “No, Drake. This time, I won’t go with you.” 4 When I woke up, my cheeks were cold with dried tears. The handmaidens were gossiping by the window. “I heard the Lady Jasna’s arm will scar. She cried all night. In the end, His Highness gave her the Jade Scar Ointment left by the late Queen. That finally placated her.” “And it’s all because of the one in this room. Even when she’s in the wrong, the Prince is willing to clean up her messes. She’s just a huntress, but she’s so lucky.” Everyone said Edith was ungrateful. The Prince’s favor wasn’t enough for her; she dreamed of soaring into the sky like a golden phoenix. But all Edith wanted was to go back to the mountains of the North and be a free little bird. A thick bandage was wrapped around my forehead. I touched it. The knot was tied the way I had taught Drake. “You’re awake?” Drake was leaning wearily against the bed, dark circles under his eyes. He must have been up all night. “Drake, you should go back.” I urged him softly. I knew the Prince was very busy. He shouldn’t waste his time here. But Drake seemed to misunderstand. “Edith, are you still angry with me about Jasna?” “Jasna has agreed to forgive your disrespect, on one condition. You must personally hunt a white fox for her.” “And once Father issues the decree for our marriage, you will live with me in the Crown Prince’s palace. No one will be able to wrong you then.” The text scrolled rapidly: 【The Prince still has feelings for the side character. He’s even willing to humble himself and plead with the female lead for her.】 【He’d be dead without her. Now he says a few words for her and he’s patting himself on the back?】 【This is hilarious. All her suffering is caused by the Prince. I support her running away.】 I picked at the embroidery on the duvet and mumbled my agreement. “Fine.” I was leaving anyway. It could be my farewell gift to him. But my heart felt like I had bitten into an unripe plum, sour and bitter. Drake sighed in relief, explaining with rare patience, “Jasna is different from you. Her parents are dead, and she grew up in the palace. Her temper is understandably short. But she is a Lady of the court, the last of the High Duchess’s bloodline.” “The honor of the royal family cannot be tarnished. This was a light punishment. Edith, do not fail my efforts.” I knew. A huntress, drifting through life like a weed, was different from a golden-leaved noblewoman. Just as Edith and Drake were different. After Drake left, I took out the crude wooden doll and carefully carved its features with my knife. A tear fell unexpectedly, and I quickly chided myself. It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt that much. Time could sweeten a sour plum. Time could also help you let go of someone and stop hurting for them. But I never expected that the fox Jasna wanted was pregnant. 5 As I hesitated, an arrow flew from the opposite direction. Without thinking, I aimed my own arrow at the ornate one. With a sharp twang, both arrows shattered mid-air. The white vixen, sensing danger, leaped into the undergrowth and disappeared. Drake frowned and signaled for his guards to surround the area and capture the fox. I stood in his way. Drake’s face darkened. “Edith, are you going to fight me over an animal?” I shook my head. “All living things have a spirit. A hunter does not kill a pregnant mother.” It was a code of reverence among the mountain folk. I had taught it to Drake once. He seemed to have forgotten. “Edith, do you despise me so much? Not only did you push me down, but now you deliberately let my favorite fox escape.” Jasna’s eyes filled with tears, and as her sleeve slipped, it revealed a thick bandage. Drake comforted her in a low voice, then rode closer, gesturing for me to give him my bow. “Edith, be good.” “I did nothing wrong.” I refused to yield. Jasna’s tears fell like rain. “I remember my mother used to make me a new fox-fur cloak every year. But now, I don’t have a mother anymore.” “If my mother were still alive, she would be heartbroken to see me injured.” Drake’s gaze on me grew even more disappointed. “Edith is disobedient and unruly. For offending the Lady Jasna, she is to be confined for seven days to reflect.” My bow was taken from me, and I was locked away in a villa like a captured animal. That night, Drake was dispatched to the southern provinces. He spoke to me through the barred window. “Edith, the capital is not the North.” “Even I cannot do as I please, cannot protect you at every moment. For my sake, can you please just curb your temper?” I looked up at him and said, word by word, “Drake, I never wanted to stay in the capital.” I only forced myself because I liked you then. I touched my heart. But it seemed I didn’t like him so much anymore. “Edith, don’t say things you don’t mean. When I return, we will be married, alright?” The royal decree had not yet been issued, and a sense of unease gnawed at him. But the North was a thousand miles away, the roads plagued by bandits. Where else could a lone girl like Edith go? The day after Drake left, my food supply was cut off. The villa was on the outskirts of the capital. No one dared to disobey Lady Jasna’s orders. The gates were chained shut. When she came to visit, I hadn’t had food or water for two days. A stinking fox pelt was thrown in my face, the blood matting my eyelashes. Jasna leaned against the door, a mocking smile on her face. “A beast’s life is a tough one. The little cubs cried for three full hours after I cut them out before they finally died.” She wiped her hands in disgust. “Just like you. Why won’t you just die?”

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My childhood sweetheart and my brother both fell for the new scholarship girl, Jane Reed. One of them, my fiancé, turned his back on our betrothal, sneering, “A princess like Elara Vance? I’m not man enough to handle that.” The other, my brother, forgot our mother’s dying wish. “Jane’s had it so tough,” he’d pleaded. “Is it really so wrong if I just give her half the love I give you?” On my birthday, my fiancé chose to be with Jane. On the anniversary of my mother’s death, my brother was at a party, celebrating with Jane and her mother. And while they were off in Port Moore, accompanying Jane as she accepted a prestigious design award, I set a match to the house that held all our memories. I faked my death and vanished from Crestwood. But when the news of my demise reached Port Moore, the two men who had grown so tired of me went mad, rushing back to Crestwood that very night. They knelt before the smoldering ruins of the house, their cries echoing in the ashes.

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After I angered my stepbrother, my own sister locked me in the sterilization cabinet. My stepbrother, Denis, was torturing a kitten, holding a lighter to its tail. When I screamed at him to stop, my sister, Joelle, decided I was the one who needed to be punished. She shoved me into the industrial-sized sterilization cabinet in our utility room and chained it shut. “Go in there and wash out that filthy mouth of yours!” she’d snarled. “Is this what they teach you at that fancy school? To be so cruel to your own brother?” The heat inside the cabinet was unbearable. I was being boiled alive. My skin blistered and broke as I screamed and begged for mercy, but all I got was her cold, dismissive voice through the thick metal door. “If you can’t even handle a little discomfort, what makes you think you’re worthy of being my brother?” Then she left. She turned her back on me and went to coddle Denis. I could feel my own flesh cooking, the chemical, fishy smell of the sterilizing agent choking me, filling my lungs. A week later, they returned from their vacation. And they finally remembered me. “Now that he’s had time to cool off, I suppose I can let Finn out.” She didn’t know that my body had already rotted away, fused to the metal walls. I was never getting out. 1 “That little brat hasn’t bothered me for days. Looks like he’s finally learned his lesson,” Joelle mused, her fingers tracing the delicate bracelet Denis had given her. A faint smile played on her lips. “He tried that hunger strike nonsense on me before, threatening to disown me. I just locked him in his room for three days, and he came out crying and begging on his knees.” “For him to be quiet for a whole week…” The bodyguard standing beside her shifted, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. “Miss Vance… sir… he’s… I think he’s still locked inside.” Joelle’s hand froze. A flicker of unease crossed her features, but it was quickly replaced by her usual mask of indifference. “It’s good for a boy to face a little hardship.” The bodyguard’s face went rigid. After a moment of hesitation, he tried again. “There’s… there’s been no sound from in there for a long time. Maybe you should… open it and check?” Joelle shot him a look as cold as ice. “I said it’s fine!” “He’s just playing games. Trying to manipulate me. The moment I go to check on him, he’ll start his act all over again.” The bodyguard’s words died in his throat. Just then, Denis walked in from the garden. Hearing Joelle, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head on her shoulder. “You’re the best sister in the world,” he said, his voice sweet and innocent. Joelle’s expression softened instantly. She smiled and ruffled his curly hair. “You little fool. You’re the only brother I’ll ever need.” Denis looked up at her, his eyes wide and guileless. “I won’t let you protect me forever. I’m going to grow up fast and be the one to protect you.” “Good boy,” she cooed. “I knew you were worth it.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s all my fault. Finn must think I stole your love away from him. That’s why he hates me so much.” Joelle patted his shoulder comfortingly. “He’s just petty and small-minded. It has nothing to do with you.” “It’s been a week, though,” Denis said, his voice laced with false concern. “You should let him out. I’m sure he’s learned his lesson by now.” If I had been alive to hear those words, I would have lunged at Denis, ready to tear his mask away. And then Joelle would have punished me for it. But now, I felt nothing. Because I was already dead. In the final, agonizing moment, as the heat melted the last of my flesh, my soul finally broke free from that steel coffin. I watched as my own body, charred and unrecognizable, remained fused to the interior. The heavy iron chain was still wrapped around the door, secured with a massive padlock. There had been no escape. At first, I had thrown myself against the door, screaming, begging. When that failed, I had curled into a corner, trying to shield myself from the searing UV lamps. But it was a 360-degree sterilizer. There was nowhere to hide. My skin peeled away in sheets. The pain… it was unimaginable. I made one last, desperate attempt, hurling my body against the door with all my remaining strength. That’s when I heard Joelle’s voice, muffled but clear. “Can’t take it anymore?” “Denis was so traumatized by your vicious words that he threw himself into the freezing fountain pool. He has a raging fever, it almost turned into pneumonia.” “Today, I’m going to teach you the lesson our dead parents never could.” I cried. I apologized for things I had never done. I would have said anything to make her let me out. But the heat was relentless. It cooked my flesh until it slid from my bones and sizzled on the hot floor below, turning to a bloody slurry. My arm was already stripped bare, a skeleton’s limb. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard her command to the bodyguard. “Get the chains. Lock it tight.” “No one opens this without my permission. This time, he needs to learn his lesson. For good.” Despair, absolute and final, consumed me. I heard the rattle of the chains as they were wound around my tomb. And I felt the cold grip of death tighten around my throat. 2 “Go unlock the cabinet for Finn,” Joelle ordered coolly. “Tell him if he doesn’t want this to happen again, he’ll come and apologize to Denis properly.” The bodyguard opened his mouth, then closed it again. He simply bowed and left the room. Denis tugged at Joelle’s arm. “Sister, once Finn apologizes, let’s just forget about it. You should be nice to him, so he doesn’t feel left out.” He added, his voice a soft whisper, “If he leaves, you won’t have any family left.” A look of contempt flashed in Joelle’s eyes, but she smoothed it over with a fond pat on Denis’s head. “It would be better if he left. A person with such a vile mouth doesn’t deserve to be my brother.” “If it weren’t for the horrible things he said to you, you wouldn’t have gotten so sick. Denis, you’re just too kind, too soft-hearted. That’s why he’s always bullying you.” A fire of rage burned in her eyes, but it vanished the moment Denis looked at her, as if she were afraid the very heat of her anger might harm him. I thought being dead meant I couldn’t feel pain anymore. But watching this, an old, familiar ache returned, and ghostly tears fell from my eyes. A week ago, for Joelle’s birthday, I had bought her a little orange kitten, a surprise. But I found Denis in the garden, holding a lighter to its tail. He’d looked up at me with a smirk. “Don’t think that just because you found a cat that looks like her old one, you can win her back from me.” I had flown into a rage, shielding the terrified animal and screaming at him. Joelle had walked in at that exact moment. Denis immediately burst into tears and threw himself into the icy fountain in the courtyard. It was the middle of winter. He was wearing a thick, absorbent cotton jacket, and he sank like a stone. When they pulled him out, he was pale and barely breathing. “Sister,” he’d gasped, his voice a faint whisper. “If Finn can’t accept me… if he wants me to die… then I will.” “My only regret is that I won’t get to protect you. You have to take care of yourself, sister. In the next life, I want to be your brother again.” That day, Joelle canceled everything. She carried Denis to the hospital in her arms, not even bothering with an umbrella as the cold rain soaked her to the bone. In the end, Denis was diagnosed with an acute case of the flu. I stood outside the hospital room, watching her clutch his hand, her voice a desperate plea. “Denis, please. Please get better. Don’t leave me all alone…” It was laughable. My own sister, my flesh and blood. A powerful, commanding woman who ran a corporate empire, now acting out a deathbed drama over a common cold with a complete stranger. It was only when she was dragging me by the hair, shoving me into that sterilization cabinet, that I finally understood. In her heart, Denis was her only brother. And I… I was nothing. “How could I have a brother with such a filthy, disgusting mouth?” she’d screamed at me. “Denis almost died! Even when he recovers, he’ll be weak for a long time!” “I’m telling you, Finn, don’t think for a second that just because we share the same blood, you can do whatever you want!” “You’ll stay in there until Denis is better. You’ll stay in there until you learn to be sorry!” And to make sure I learned my “lesson,” she had the bodyguard chain the door shut. And now, only because Denis was in a good mood, she was deigning to let me out. She didn’t know. I was never getting out.

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1 It happened on game night. The words tumbled out of Sheldon’s mouth, a casual, devastating confession: “It feels so good to be a dad.” The room went dead silent. The cheerful buzz of a moment ago evaporated, replaced by a thick, suffocating tension. Every eye in the room darted not to him, but to me. In their gazes, I saw no shock. Only a pained, unspoken pity. In that instant, I knew. They all knew. I was the only fool left in the dark. My hand trembled as I set down my wine glass, fighting to keep my composure. My voice was barely a whisper, but I forced the question out. “How many months?” Sheldon snapped back to reality as if waking from a dream, scrambling toward me. In his panic, he knocked over a bottle. It shattered, and he stumbled right over the shards, his bare feet instantly slick with blood. He didn’t seem to notice. He wrapped his arms around me, his body shaking. “Penny, the baby was an accident! I swear!” The words pierced my heart like a shard of glass from the bottle he’d just broken. “So it’s true… you cheated,” I breathed, the reality of it suffocating me. I pictured those same arms holding another woman, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I shoved him away, hard, and ran. Sheldon chased me to the door, but his phone rang. He stopped, answering it instantly. Even from a distance, I heard the cloying, sweet voice on the other end. “Sheldon… the baby misses you…” A bitter acid rose in my throat. I fled faster into the cold night. I don’t know how long I ran, the frigid wind a brutal shock against my thin sweater. I finally stumbled into a department store, desperate to buy a coat. A sales associate stared at me, her expression hesitant. “Excuse me… are you Penny Vance?” Before I could answer, a nearby shopper scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Please. It’s just a look-alike. Sheldon Vance worships his wife. You think he’d let the real Penny run around in this weather, freezing in a thin sweater, buying her own coat?” I managed a bitter, hollow laugh. I paid for the coat and walked out in silence. On the massive screen blanketing the side of the building, a replay of Sheldon’s recent TV interview was broadcasting to the entire city square. On camera, his voice was thick with emotion, his eyes glistening. “This year marks a decade with my wife. Ten years ago, when I had nothing, she stood by me. She even… she even lost our first child to save my life…” He choked back a sob, his gaze fixed on the camera as if he were looking right at me. “Penny is the one and only love of my life. In three days, I’m throwing her the wedding of the century, a renewal of our vows, so the whole world can witness how much I adore her.” Passersby stopped to watch, their faces soft with admiration. They praised him, calling him the poster boy for devoted husbands. Yes, everyone thought Sheldon Vance loved me to the bone. Until today, I thought so too. How could a man who loved me so much possibly cheat? I wandered out of the mall like a ghost, my mind numb, and then I saw it. Sheldon’s car, parked by the curb, waiting. I stood there, the wind whipping at me, a war raging in my chest. My feet slowed, a toxic, treacherous hope blooming within me. What was I even hoping for? That he was here for me? That this was all some horrible misunderstanding he could explain away? I hated myself for that flicker of weakness. I didn’t know if I could face him, but I couldn’t run anymore. Taking a deep breath, I started toward the car, each step a crushing weight on my heart. Just then, he got out. He didn’t come to me. He walked briskly to the passenger side and opened the door. A young woman, visibly pregnant, hopped out with a youthful bounce. The snow was thick on the ground, and she grabbed his arm, whining playfully. Without a second thought, Sheldon scooped her halfway into his arms, carefully shielding her designer shoes from the slush. “Thank you, Sheldon. You know how much I hate the cold.” For ten years, Sheldon had been an iceberg to every woman but me. He said it was to make me feel secure, to prove his love was undivided. His warmth, he’d always said, was reserved for me alone. Now, here I was, shivering in a thin coat, while he doted on another woman. I just watched, my stare so intense he finally felt it. His head snapped up. Our eyes met across the snowy street. His first reaction was a flicker of panic, his eyes darting away. The woman in his arms suddenly seemed to be a hot iron he couldn’t drop fast enough. He set her down and rushed toward me. He cupped my face with his hands, his thumbs stroking my frozen cheeks, his expression a mask of pure concern. “Penny, God, you’re freezing.” The worry in his eyes was so real, so familiar, that for a split second, my resolve wavered. But then I saw her, standing behind him. The woman with the swollen belly, one hand cradling it protectively, her head tilted in a look of blatant challenge. She was a living, breathing reminder that my life was a joke. I pulled away from Sheldon’s touch, taking two steps back. It felt like I was using my last ounce of strength to ask the question. “Who is she?” In that moment, I gambled everything—our ten years, our history, my entire heart—on his answer. It was my final, desperate bet. If he just denied it. If he would just look me in the eye and tell me that child wasn’t his, I would have believed him. I would have erased this entire nightmare and taken him back. But a soft, distinct sob carried across the cold air from the other woman. It was the sound of my last hope shattering. A pained look crossed Sheldon’s face. He let out a heavy sigh, and the words that destroyed my world fell from his lips, heavy and clear. “The baby… is mine.” My hand reacted before my mind could, slapping his away. My nails dug into my own palm, drawing blood. “Penny!” He grabbed my hand, prying my fingers open, his face a mess of panic and pain. “Hit me, scream at me, do anything, but please don’t hurt yourself.” He was almost begging. I remained silent, the agony in my chest too vast for words. Seeing my stony expression, he suddenly raised a hand and slapped himself across the face. Twice. Hard. Red welts bloomed instantly on his cheek. That’s when the girl, Emma, rushed forward, placing herself between us, shielding him. Her voice trembled, but her words were firm. “Miss Vanderbilt, my name is Emma. Sheldon and I… we were both victims in this. Please, don’t blame him!” Her eyes were wet with tears, but she stood her ground like a loyal protector. Sheldon’s face hardened. His voice was ice. “Penny is my wife. You will address her as Mrs. Vance.” Emma flinched, but her chin lifted with defiance. “Mrs. Vance, you’re a woman. You should understand. I’m only twenty-two. If it wasn’t for Sheldon’s mother… I would never have wanted to keep this baby!” Her words hung in the air. Sheldon’s gaze, which had been locked on me, flickered involuntarily toward Emma. And in that split second, as his focus shifted from me to her, I knew. It was over. 2 In the end, Sheldon had his executive assistant take Emma home. He drove me. The silence in the car was heavy, suffocating. He finally broke it, telling me the story. It happened last year, at the company gala. A competitor had drugged his drink. Emma, an intern, had “accidentally” wandered into his suite. He paid her a substantial sum for her silence afterward and had never seen her again. He never imagined she would get pregnant. And when his mother found out, she was adamant about keeping the child. I knew his mother’s stubbornness all too well. Shortly after we were married, we were in a horrific car accident. The car plunged into an icy reservoir. In the chaos, Sheldon shielded me with his own body. Shards of glass were embedded in his back, and his legs were pinned by the crushed seat. He fought through the pain to wake me from my unconscious state, urging me to escape first. But how could I leave him? I stayed, holding his head above the frigid water, trying to keep his wounds from being submerged. By the time the rescue team arrived, I had been soaking in that bone-chilling water for what felt like an eternity. Sheldon recovered quickly. I, on the other hand, lost our baby in the aftermath and was told that carrying another to term would be nearly impossible. From that day on, Sheldon’s love for me seemed to deepen into something sacred. He said we had faced death together, that nothing could ever tear us apart. His mother, however, never forgave my inability to give her a grandchild. Now, faced with this unexpected heir, I could easily imagine the lengths she would go to protect him. In the car, Sheldon reached for my hand, his voice thick with guilt. “Penny, it was a terrible mistake, an accident…” I looked him straight in the eye and asked the only question that mattered. “The baby, or me? You have to choose.” He fell silent. His silence was an answer louder than any confession. It was a hammer blow to my heart, an invisible wall slamming down between us. I knew, in that moment, that our marriage was broken beyond repair. I pulled my hand from his grasp and stared out the window at the glittering city lights. Our love had burned brightly for ten years, but like the fading day, its grand finale had finally arrived. When we got home, he gently took my arm. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “It’s late and you’re cold. Let me make you some soup to warm you up. I don’t want you to get a stomachache.” I said nothing, walking straight to our bedroom and locking the door behind me. A few moments later, a soft knock. “Penny? Please let me in. Just let me hold you. I’m so worried about you.” I pulled the covers over my head and willed the world away. When I woke up the next morning, my gaze fell on the calendar. A huge red circle was drawn around today’s date. My eyes burned with fresh tears. Today was the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death. Before she passed, she’d made me promise that on this day, I would visit her with my husband and children. When I told Sheldon about it years ago, he took it to heart. He’d made this calendar himself, marking the date with that big, bold circle. “Penny,” he’d said, his voice filled with a joy that felt so real, “the fact that you want me to meet your mother means everything to me. I’d move heaven and earth to be there. I’d crawl there if I had to.” Now… I wasn’t so sure. I stared at the closed door. It suddenly swung open. Sheldon stood there, looking haggard, his eyes bloodshot. “You had a key. Why didn’t you come in last night?” I asked, my voice cold. He gently tucked the blanket around me. “You wouldn’t have been able to sleep. I’m fine, I can handle one sleepless night.” A pang of grief hit me, and the words tumbled out. “Do you remember what day it is?” Sheldon looked at me, his expression serious. “Penny, how could I forget? It’s the day we visit your mother. I would forget anything in the world before I forgot this.” We got ready to leave. Just as we were about to walk out the door, his phone rang. His body went rigid. I could see the panic flash in his eyes as he answered. He didn’t put it on speaker, but I heard her cry clearly. “Sheldon! I fell! My stomach—it hurts so much! Help me!” He turned to me, his face a mask of desperation, his eyes pleading. “Penny, I’ll just go check on her. I swear, I’ll be right back. I promise I’ll make it.” He turned and ran. I lifted a hand to wipe my eyes, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. I went to the cemetery alone. I stayed until dusk, talking to my mother for hours, the silent gravestone a better confidant than my husband had been. When I returned home, I started packing. It was late, past midnight, when Sheldon finally came back. He wrapped me in his arms from behind, burying his face in my hair, murmuring “I’m sorry” over and over again. I let him hold me. I didn’t say a word. In his arms, our world felt cleaved in two. His embrace was warm and familiar, but my heart had never felt so cold, so distant. 3 The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, illuminating an empty space on the bed beside me. Sheldon was gone. A wave of nausea and unease washed over me, and I drove myself to the hospital. When the doctor laid the positive pregnancy test results in front of me, I started to laugh, a broken, hysterical sound that was drowned out by my own tears. The doctor watched me with sympathetic eyes. “Are you a single mother?” she asked gently. “Have you decided if you’ll be keeping the baby? Given your medical history, carrying this pregnancy to term will be extremely difficult.” I couldn’t answer. I left the hospital in a daze and drove to the first apartment Sheldon and I had ever shared—our pre-marital love nest. But when I stepped inside, my blood ran cold. Emma was there. She looked at me, her expression a mix of feigned timidity and blatant provocation. “Well, well. Did you come here to secretly record me, sister? Hoping to get something you can use to drive a wedge between me and Sheldon?” She pulled out a small electronic scanner and insisted on sweeping it over my body. I let out a cold laugh. “You’re the one making threats in the shadows. What right do you have to accuse anyone else?” Once she confirmed I wasn’t wearing a wire, her timid mask dropped. “So what if I am?” she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. “Your husband still wants me. You’re going to lose, and I’m going to win.” She flung the door open wider, gesturing around the apartment with a triumphant sweep of her arm. “I heard this was your little love nest. So romantic,” she purred. “But Sheldon’s mother said it was the perfect, quiet place for me to rest during my pregnancy, so he let me move in. You’re not mad, are you?” She trailed a hand over a sleek, modern armchair. “He was so worried I might bump into the old furniture and hurt the baby. So he had every single piece replaced. All in my favorite style, of course~” My eyes scanned the room. It was completely unrecognizable. A bitter bile rose in my throat, choking me. Memories flooded back, sharp and painful. The day he proposed, Sheldon had gotten down on one knee right here, in this room, and placed the only key in my hand. “Penny,” he had vowed, “no one else will ever step foot in this apartment. This place holds the memory of our love. It’s our world, just for the two of us.” This place was supposed to be our sanctuary. And he had handed it over to another woman. All the strength drained from my body. I sagged against the doorframe, the world tilting around me. Emma watched me, her eyes gleaming with a sick mixture of jealousy and hatred. I was helpless, drowning in a sea of despair in the very place that was supposed to be my safe harbor. “So how much longer are you going to cling to the title of Mrs. Vance?” Emma taunted, her voice sharp. “Can’t you see how much Sheldon adores me and our child? Can’t you see he’s already chosen us?” Cling? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I felt hollowed out. Suddenly, my eyes darted to an empty corner of the living room. My mother’s portrait. It was always there. Now, the space was bare. “Where is my mother’s portrait?!” My voice cracked, rising with disbelief and panic. Emma waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that morbid thing? Sheldon tossed it out, of course.” My glare was so intense that she finally, reluctantly, retrieved the framed photo from a closet. Then, right in front of me, a cruel smirk spread across her face. With a flick of her wrist, she let the frame drop. It hit the hardwood floor with a sickening crash, the glass shattering into a thousand pieces. I stared, frozen in a state of pure, unadulterated rage. But Emma was already collapsing to the floor, clutching her stomach and letting out a theatrical wail of pain. “Aah! My stomach! It hurts!” Her cries were a distant buzz in my ears. I lunged for the floor, desperately trying to gather the shards of my mother’s photo. Just as my fingers touched the broken glass, the door burst open and a furious roar filled the room. “Penny, why would you push her?!” I looked up from the floor, my hands bleeding, to see Sheldon. He hadn’t even looked at me. His eyes were locked on Emma. In a flash, he was scooping her into his arms and rushing out of the apartment. I stared down at my bloody hands, at the wreckage of my mother’s face on the floor. Our ten-year marriage wasn’t just a joke. It was a tragedy. I slowly, mechanically, began to clean up the mess. Soon after, his mother arrived. She stormed in and slapped me, hard, across the face. “You barren hen! If anything happens to my grandson, I will make you pay!” Sheldon, who had returned, quickly stepped between us. He finally rushed to my side, gently unwrapping the clumsy bandages I’d wrapped around my fingers and meticulously disinfecting the cuts. Seeing his mother was about to start another tirade, Sheldon said curtly, “She’s going into labor.” His mother’s face changed instantly, and she hurried out. Once she was gone, Sheldon watched me, his expression cautious. He chose his words carefully. “Penny, I know Emma is young and she upset you, but you shouldn’t have pushed her.” “I pushed her?” The words were incredulous, empty of feeling. “It’s okay, it’s okay. She won’t hold it against you,” he said, and though he didn’t say it outright, his words were a clear defense of her. He had already chosen a side. A profound exhaustion washed over me. I had no energy left to argue, to explain. In the contest between me and Emma, he had already chosen to believe her. Ten years of marriage meant nothing against a woman he’d known for less than a year. I watched him as he carefully tended to my wounds, his focus clearly elsewhere. I remembered the flicker of joy in his eyes when he’d said she was in labor.

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