Category: English

Five years ago, I helped the Shaws get back on their feet. I was the woman working tirelessly behind the scenes for Ethan Shaw. He used to say, “Scarlett, you’re the only one I’ll ever need.” Five years later, he wants to call off our engagement for another woman. I agreed. Then I turned around and started making arrangements for his imminent downfall. 1 Ethan spent five years overseas expanding into the international market. “Mr. Shaw got back yesterday afternoon,” my assistant reported. “He had a girl with him. They went back to the Shaw family home together.” After saying this, my assistant sensed my displeasure and lowered her head, falling silent. I waved a dismissive hand. “Get some gifts together. We’re going over to the Shaws’ tonight,” I said coldly. Five years apart, and it seemed my fiancé had developed some new ideas. When I arrived at the Shaw residence that evening, it was dinner time. A girl sat next to Ethan. When she saw me, she stood up along with him to greet me. My eyes swept over his face. His features were sharper, more defined than when he was younger. Dressed in a black custom suit, he looked tall, imposing, coolly sophisticated. I clicked across the floor in my heels and sat down opposite Ethan. I glanced around at the standing figures, a perfectly innocent smile playing on my lips. I raised an eyebrow at the girl. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Ethan frowned slightly, discreetly taking the hand of the girl beside him. “This is Miss Reed. And this is—” Before he could finish, the girl interrupted, eagerly introducing herself with a face full of excitement. “My name is Sophie Bell. I’m Ethan’s girlfriend.” I glanced down at her for a split second, not bothering to respond directly. I turned my head to look at the expressionless Ethan and let out a soft scoff. “Well, isn’t that convenient. You’re his girlfriend, and I’m his fiancée.” Sophie didn’t raise her voice or question me. Instead, she calmly withdrew her hand and smiled. “I know. He told me everything.” I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, radiating confidence. “So you knew, and you still dare to call yourself his girlfriend.” Sophie linked her arm through Ethan’s, putting on an innocent face. “But Ethan already told you he wanted to break off the engagement, didn’t he?” Ah, right. I did get a text from him yesterday. Something about calling things off. However. “He says break it off, we break it off? That depends on whether I agree.” I shifted my gaze to Ethan’s father, waiting for him to weigh in. Five years ago, when the Shaw family business hit rock bottom, it was my family, the Reeds, who bailed them out. That huge overseas market? Without the Reed family’s backing, Ethan never could have handled it. Seeing the tension, Mr. Shaw quickly tried to smooth things over. “Scarlett, have you eaten? Why don’t you join us?” “Sure,” I replied sweetly. I pushed the plate of shrimp in front of me across the table. “Miss Bell, would you mind peeling these shrimp for me?” Ethan immediately pushed the plate back towards me, his eyes flashing with annoyance. “Sophie isn’t a servant. If you want shrimp, peel them yourself.” I propped my elbows on the table, resting my chin in my hand, a half-smile playing on my lips. “She won’t do it? Then how about you?” Mr. Shaw frantically signaled Ethan with his eyes. Ethan clenched his jaw, then visibly forced himself to relax his fist and began peeling the shrimp with grim determination. Soon, a plate of perfectly peeled shrimp sat before me, arranged neatly in a circle. I picked up the plate and walked over to Ethan’s side. I lifted it high above his head, then tilted my hand. The entire plateful of shrimp slid down over his hair and onto the floor. Sophie shrieked, immediately grabbing napkins to wipe the grease from his face. I leaned down close to his ear and whispered a warning, “I don’t care how big you think you’ve gotten. If you make me unhappy, I can break your wings just like that.” I looked up and met Sophie’s furious glare, her teeth gritted as she stared at me. “Keep looking, and I’ll gouge your eyes out.” I held up two fingers, mimicking the action. Ethan instinctively grabbed my wrist. “Scarlett, don’t go too far,” he growled. I yanked my arm back, freeing myself from his grip. I picked up Ethan’s soup bowl, took a delicate sip, and savored it. “You touched what’s mine. Now you face the consequences.” Standing tall, I gave one last look at each member of the Shaw family, nodded politely in farewell, and left. On the drive back, my assistant gave me a detailed report on Ethan’s overseas business development. I fiddled with my watch, gazing out at the passing scenery. “Five years,” I mused aloud, “is long enough to change a person’s heart.” Sophie Bell was a student the Shaws had sponsored. She studied abroad, working part-time to support herself. During his years overseas, Ethan had kept in touch with her. Apparently, he was moved by her “sincerity” and “resilience,” and naturally, they hooked up. A pure, innocent little flower? I tossed the file aside, scoffing at how blind and foolish Ethan was. The attitude of the Shaws tonight was even more chilling. I’d let things slide for too long. It was time for a little reminder. 2 I instructed my assistant to inform the Reed family’s overseas team: Take down the Shaw’s market share, piece by piece, no matter the cost. When it came to financial power, Ethan Shaw was still leagues behind. If I hadn’t had some lingering feelings for him back then, the Shaws would have been begging on street corners long ago. A few days later, I received an invitation to a celebration party hosted by the Shaws. My parents wanted to use the opportunity to defend my honor, but I stopped them. “Not yet,” I said. “Slow burn. I’m going to boil this frog slowly.” Dylan Troy was Ethan’s biggest rival. We’d gotten closer over the past few years. He was always talking about chasing after me, usually while trying to get some business advantage out of me. In a private room at the club, Dylan lounged in a flashy deep purple suit. With his long, elegant fingers, he pushed a limited-edition designer bag across the table towards me. He sighed dramatically. “You know, you promised me the South Hills development project. Now that Ethan’s back, you’re not really going to back out, are you?” I swirled the drink in my glass, truly looking at Dylan for the first time. Unlike Ethan’s ruggedness, Dylan had a certain refined, almost feline grace. When his almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly, he looked like a cunning fox. Yet, somehow, he seemed to possess a surprisingly genuine core. In all the time he’d spent by my side, he’d never crossed any lines. After all, the infamous Scarlett Reed, known for her arrogance, didn’t have many friends. Dylan was perhaps the only one. Just then, the door pushed open, and a Little Miss Innocent type appeared in the doorway. Dylan’s first reaction was, “Who the hell are you?” The colorful club lights flashed across the girl’s face. Sophie? Recognizing her, I put down my drink and settled into a more comfortable position. “That’s Sophie Bell. Ethan’s little sweetheart.” Hearing this, Dylan immediately wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Ew.” He looked her up and down with those foxy eyes and delivered his verdict: “Doesn’t hold a candle to even one of Scarlett Reed’s fingers. Is Ethan blind or something?” Sophie seemed to summon all her courage before finally lifting her head to meet my gaze, trembling slightly. “Miss Reed, when are you going to break off the engagement with Ethan? He doesn’t love you anymore. Can’t you please just stop clinging to him?” I watched her, amused, tapping my finger idly against my watch face. Dylan saw the gesture and knew my patience was wearing thin. He gestured to the bodyguards standing behind Sophie, signaling them to remove her. The burly guards surrounded Sophie, frightening her so much she dropped to her knees with a thump. She started crying, tears streaming down her face, making it look like we’d actually done something horrible to her. I rose and strolled over to her. Bending down, I tilted her chin up with my finger, my voice lazy and distant. “If you want the engagement called off, you should have Ethan come talk to me. You don’t have the standing to make demands here.” Footsteps hurried closer, and suddenly, Ethan appeared. He must have run, as his hair and shirt were slightly disheveled. He rushed forward, helped Sophie to her feet, his eyes, usually like calm pools, now dangerously cold, his brow furrowed. “Scarlett, do whatever you want to me, but you can’t use your dirty tricks on an innocent person.” Ha! That was rich. “Innocent?” I advanced on him, my voice sharp. “She knew you had a fiancée and still hooked up with you. You dare call her innocent?” “What position is she in to come here demanding I break off our engagement? You dare call her innocent?” “We haven’t even officially broken up yet, and she’s already crawling into your bed. You dare call her innocent?” Behind me, Dylan chuckled. “Sounds like a classic snake in the grass to me. Didn’t realize Mr. Shaw had such low standards.” At that, Ethan’s pupils contracted, his annoyance written all over his face. “Dylan, you’re nothing but Scarlett Reed’s lapdog. Who are you to judge anyone?” Did Ethan really just say that? I was stunned.

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Seven months pregnant, and my husband’s childhood sweetheart poisoned the town’s water supply, causing an epidemic to sweep through Maple Creek. She burst into the Senator’s manor, demanding to use my unborn child as the key ingredient for a cure. I didn’t fight back. I let her take the premature baby. Because in my past life, I had pleaded with my husband, Ethan, to let me keep the child. Then, heavily pregnant, I went out to treat the sick townspeople myself. I saved their lives, but they were left with chronic, debilitating headaches. Olivia, his sweetheart, also caught the plague and died from it. Ethan comforted me, saying it was the best possible outcome, told me to rest and focus on the baby, that he would handle everything else. Then, on the day I went into labor, he had me and our newborn son dragged to the town square and publicly tortured to death. Before I died, I saw the twisted hatred on his face. “If you hadn’t poisoned the water, none of these people would have suffered! Olivia wouldn’t have died! You did this horrific thing for your own selfish reasons. Dying like this is getting off easy!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Olivia stormed the manor, demanding my child for her cure. … I closed my eyes in despair amidst the curses of the townspeople outside. I couldn’t believe it. I had run a clinic in the Capital for six years, saved countless lives, yet not a single person believed I was innocent. Even the man I loved believed I was the poisoner. As I opened my eyes again, my assistant Chloe’s voice was firm, “Ms. Hayes, our mistress has a unique constitution. Her pregnancies go to twelve months for a full term. If you take the baby now, at only seven months, it won’t survive.” Olivia scoffed, “Normal women carry for nine months, and a seven-month fetus can survive. Why is your mistress so different?” She raised an eyebrow at me, “Sarah, don’t tell me you’re unwilling to give up the baby to save everyone?” Chloe was furious. “Even if it’s to save people, you can’t do it like this! My mistress is a brilliant doctor herself! Maybe she can cure this epidemic! Why must you take her child for a cure? It’s barbaric!” Olivia couldn’t be bothered arguing. She waved her hand dismissively. “Taking the child saves the whole town! Don’t hesitate, people, get her!” Urged on by her, the crowd forced Chloe and me back against the wall. Every face was fierce, eager to cut open my belly and take the premature child to save themselves. Chloe shielded me desperately, screaming, “This is the Senator’s wife! How dare any of you touch her!” Her shout made them pause. Everyone knew Senator Vance adored his wife. Seeing this, Olivia grew anxious. “The Senator owes his position to the support of the people! We’re just asking for a little blood from the baby’s fingertip after it’s born. She won’t even make that small sacrifice for the town? She doesn’t deserve to be the Senator’s wife!” The crowd turned menacing again. “She always claimed to be compassionate, dedicated to healing, but now there’s an epidemic, she hides in this fancy manor, afraid of getting sick herself! What kind of doctor is that!” “Why should you rich folks stay safe while we common people die? I don’t care if it’s the Senator’s kid or the President’s kid inside her, I’ll take it for my own child’s sake!” A few inflammatory words whipped the crowd into a frenzy. They lost all reason. Just then, the door was kicked open. My husband, Ethan, entered with several security guards. Seeing him, Chloe scrambled over like he was her last hope, kneeling. “Senator, you’re finally back! They want to take the mistress’s baby! It’s a matter of life and death, please save her!” Olivia instantly changed her tune, looking fragile and pitiful. “Ethan, the blood of a newborn from the Bai family can cure any poison. We’re doing this for everyone in town.” Chloe cried beside her, “Senator, the mistress’s constitution is special! Taking the baby now will kill it!” Ethan’s expression shifted. Just as Chloe thought they were saved, he abruptly raised his hand and asked his men, “Where is the labor-inducing drug I asked you to prepare?” A bowl of dark brown liquid was brought forward. Chloe’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what was happening. She tried to run towards me. Ethan’s guards swiftly intercepted her, grabbing her arms, holding her fast. Ethan held the bowl in front of me, his voice ice-cold. “Drink it.” Looking at his face, my heart shattered, but I clung to a sliver of hope. “Ethan, this is your own child in my belly. Are you truly going to take him out now?” “That’s why I found you the best midwife,” Ethan replied flatly. “I’ve asked around. A seven-month fetus can survive with careful nursing. I will protect him.” “But…” Before I could explain, Ethan lost his patience. He struck me hard across the face. “Sarah, after the evil you’ve done, just having you deliver the baby early is letting you off easy!” The force knocked me to the ground. My head hit a cabinet, ringing. Warm blood trickled down my forehead. Accusations rained down on me from everyone in the room. “Her family have been doctors for generations, how could they produce such a menace!” “So selfish and afraid to die! She’s ruining the Senator’s reputation!” The accusations were sickeningly familiar, dragging me back to my previous life. Me and my son, hung from the town walls. Ethan handed knives to the townspeople, allowing them to slice pieces of my flesh. Those same people who once called me their savior, holding knives in one hand, chili water in the other. The same expressions as they tortured me to death. That terror surged back into my heart. I took a breath and looked at Ethan. “I can drink it. But you have to grant me one request.” My quick agreement seemed to make Ethan frown. “What do you want?” I took the bowl. Before drinking, I stared straight at him. “I want a divorce.” 2 Hearing the word “divorce,” Ethan froze for a second, then sneered, “Is this some new trick?” I was too tired to argue. “If you agree, I’ll drink it now,” I said indifferently. I expected him to agree without hesitation. Instead, he crouched down, grabbed my hair, pinched my jaw open, and forcibly poured the medicine down my throat. The bitter liquid choked me, tears streaming down my face. I suddenly remembered a time I caught a cold because of Ethan and refused to take my medicine. He had paced anxiously beside me, only coaxing me gently, never saying a harsh word. That day, for every bowl I drank, he drank two, telling me with red eyes that he’d never let me suffer again. The man then and the man forcing medicine down my throat now were like two different people. After pouring it all, Ethan smashed the bowl on the floor. “You’re in no position to make demands,” he spat viciously. He left with his guards and Chloe, leaving only Olivia and the midwife in the room. An hour after drinking the medicine, my belly remained quiet. The midwife examined me again and again. “The mistress grew up around herbs and remedies,” she concluded. “She might be resistant to this drug. Should we ask the Senator about giving her another dose?” Olivia shook her head. “We’ve already wasted an hour on this medicine. Trying another type will just waste another hour. Let’s try a simpler method.” She pulled out a dagger. The midwife paled. “Ms. Hayes, you mustn’t! Cutting her open directly could kill her!” “Who cares about her life at a time like this?” Olivia laughed triumphantly. “Is anyone worried about the lives of the townspeople outside?” Seeing the dagger, I panicked too. I scrambled off the bed, trying to run. Olivia ordered the two midwives to hold me down. They pinned me but looked up, asking if they should check with the Senator. “Don’t you understand the Senator’s intention? This baby must come out today.” She approached me with the knife, aiming the tip directly at my belly. As the blade sank in, I screamed, my whole body convulsing. Blood pooled on the floor. The pain was so intense I fainted instantly. Moments later, agony jolted me awake again. Olivia applied more pressure, slicing my belly open from top to bottom. I gasped for breath, pain overwhelming me, tears falling. Outside the door, Ethan asked, “Why is she screaming like that?” Olivia clamped her hand over my mouth. “Childbirth is always painful, Ethan,” she called back. “Please don’t come in. It’s bad luck for a man to be in the delivery room.” Silence fell outside. Olivia roughly pulled my baby out. The baby let out an immediate cry. Hearing that sound, I looked up, my heart clenching inexplicably. Olivia cleaned him off. As she was about to leave, I couldn’t help but plead, “Olivia, after you take the fingertip blood, please bring him back to me.” Olivia snorted coldly and left. I heard her say to Ethan outside, “It’s wonderful, Ethan! The townspeople can be saved!” Outside, Ethan cooed over the baby twice. “Let’s go. We’ll save the townspeople right now.” Everyone left, forgetting about me, still bleeding profusely. The blood flowed faster, the pain intensified. My consciousness faded, and I passed out again. When I woke next, I heard Chloe’s crying. “Mistress, wake up…” Chloe grew up with me, my personal maid who came with me when I married. In the Senator’s manor, she was the kindest person to me besides Ethan. In my past life, she died protecting me and my son, beaten to death. I opened my eyes. Her crying grew more desperate. “Mistress, you’re awake! How do you feel? You lost so much blood…” 3 I forced myself to sit up and told her to get the small box hidden in my cabinet. Inside was a special medicinal pill, a Bai family heirloom. After swallowing it, I felt much of my strength return. I had Chloe bring me a needle and thread, and I stitched up my own abdomen. After doing all this, I used my own blood to write down a prescription and a letter, telling Chloe to deliver them to the Capital. I only learned later that someone infected had fled to the Capital, causing the epidemic to spread there too. Even the Governor and his wife had fallen ill. The cure I developed in my past life, while effective against the epidemic, left patients with chronic headaches as a side effect. But the headaches were treatable. While waiting to give birth, I had shared the treatment method with the local doctors, asking them to help the townspeople. I never imagined this act would be twisted into me seeking fame. They claimed I deliberately left them with the affliction so they would constantly remember my name. The thought chilled me again. My family had practiced medicine for generations, guided by the principle of saving lives. The Bai family name was already renowned. Why would I need to seek fame like that? But people only believe what they want to believe. So later, when someone accused me of poisoning the water, not a single person defended me. The formula I sent to the Governor was an improved version. One dose would cure the illness completely, with no side effects. After Chloe left, exhaustion overwhelmed me, and I fell into a deep sleep. Soon, I developed a fever. In my delirium, I thought I saw Ethan pacing anxiously by my bedside. But I must have been mistaken. He wouldn’t come. He was surely with Olivia, busy “saving” the town. I must have slept for about seven days when a splash of cold water woke me. I opened my eyes to see Olivia standing over me. “While Ethan and I worked tirelessly saving people, you slept soundly.” I lifted my heavy eyelids. “What do you want?” “Came to return your baby, of course.” Olivia smirked wickedly and tossed the bundle in her hands into the air. I screamed, scrambling out of bed, collapsing to the floor as pain flared from my wound. Thankfully, I caught the baby. My son in the bundle had his eyes closed, his face deathly pale, no sign of breath. I took his tiny hand. A deep gash marked his wrist. Dead. He was dead. A roaring filled my ears. My mind went blank. I looked up at Olivia, my eyes filled with hatred. “Didn’t you say you’d only take a little blood?” Because of my family’s constitution, while others carried for nine months, Bai women needed twelve. My seven months were equivalent to someone else’s five. I had hoped if she only took a little fingertip blood, I could still nurse him back to health. But she had drained nearly all the blood from his tiny body. Olivia sneered, “Sarah, you’re a doctor too. How could a tiny bit of fingertip blood possibly save so many people?” Seeing her nonchalance, I glanced down at the lifeless child in my arms and couldn’t hold back any longer. I pulled out the dagger I kept hidden and lunged at Olivia. “Go to hell!” She easily pushed me down, then took the dagger and tapped my face with it, her expression hideous. “Sarah, pathetic as you are, you think you can kill me? Are you…” She stopped mid-sentence, her expression changing dramatically. She twisted her hand, letting the dagger graze her shoulder, making it look like I had stabbed her from behind. “Mistress! Why would you do this?” Before I could react, someone kicked me forcefully. I rolled across the floor, instinctively clutching my dead child tighter. At the same time, a ginseng root landed near me. I recognized it instantly – it looked like rare, potent ginseng. I remembered once telling Ethan that ginseng was the best thing for a mother’s postpartum recovery. Ethan had smiled then. “I’ll definitely send someone to find the best thousand-year ginseng for you. I couldn’t bear for my Sarah to suffer even a little.” Could Ethan have brought this? “Sarah, you venomous woman! How dare you harm Olivia!” Ethan’s furious roar snapped me back to reality. I looked up at him, the last embers of love in my heart extinguished. Strangely, he froze when he saw me. He let go of Olivia in his arms and hurried towards me. Only then did I realize the kick had torn open the stitches on my abdomen. Blood gushed out again, instantly soaking the floor. Ethan’s face was grim as he lifted my clothes. Seeing the horrifying wound, he sucked in a sharp breath. His voice trembled. “Sarah, what happened to your stomach?”

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I spent two weeks learning how to make the perfect chicken soup for Justin King, and he turned around and gave it to his new assistant. That same night, I saw a message from the assistant: “I drank it all! Your girlfriend won’t be mad, right? Before I could even get angry, Justin insisted we break up. As I desperately tried to change his mind, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly echoed in my head. All the memories flooded back instantly. I quickly took a step back, my eyes filled with suspicion as I looked at Justin. “Well then, good riddance!” 1 He picked up the phone, his cool voice on the other end. “Hello? Who’s this?” I stood downstairs from his bustling office building, clutching the thermos, my heart bubbling with excitement. “I made you soup! Remember to buzz me in.” He didn’t answer right away. After a long pause, he just mumbled a soft “Mm.” I ignored the weird silence in between, too caught up in the joy of seeing the guy I loved. The elevator numbers climbed steadily. The reflection in the mirrored walls showed a happy little woman, beaming. Justin’s office door was open. I walked in, practically skipping. “Come try the soup I made! I spent over two weeks learning how.” The words had barely left my mouth when I saw the girl standing nervously by his desk. I stopped talking. “And this is?” Justin kept his eyes glued to the contract on his desk, not even glancing my way. “My new assistant.” I didn’t think much of it and put the thermos down on his desk. “Go on, try it while it’s hot. See my new skills.” The assistant, who hadn’t said a word, timidly looked up. “Maybe I should go, I don’t want to interrupt—” I looked over at her and noticed her eyes were getting misty, like I’d committed some horrible crime. My heart sank. I instinctively looked towards Justin. Just then, Justin looked up, and I saw the impatience clear in his eyes. Before I could even register that, I heard him say, “Wendy, I’m working. Can you head home now?” The smile froze on my face. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but I quickly pulled myself together. I knew Justin hated being disturbed when he was working. “Okay, I’ll go then. Make sure you finish the soup while it’s hot.” I repeated the reminder, feeling a weight in my chest, then walked out with heavy steps. Halfway down the hall, I realized I’d left my wallet on his desk. Normally, I’d just ask Justin to bring it home after work, but this time, some strange impulse made me turn back. Through the glass door, I saw Justin push the thermos towards the girl he called his new assistant. He was smiling, eyes crinkled, saying something that made the assistant giggle flirtatiously. In that instant, my heart felt like it had plunged into an icy abyss. My body started trembling uncontrollably. I practically ran away. 2 Justin came home late. He’d been coming home late a lot recently. Every night, I’d sit on the sofa waiting for him. Sometimes, exhaustion would win, and I’d curl up and fall asleep right there. The sound of the shower woke me. The living room was pitch black, except for the faint light spilling from the bathroom. The water stopped, and he walked out, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair slightly damp. Tall and long-legged, water droplets traced paths from his hairline, over his well-defined collarbones, disappearing beneath the towel, adding a layer of raw appeal. I sat on the sofa, just staring at him blankly. How did I ever manage to land such an incredible guy? Wendy Shaw, you are seriously lucky. Justin really was exceptional. Started his own company sophomore year of college, raked in scholarships left and right, and now he was the CEO. The company wasn’t huge, but it was financially stable, miles ahead of most people his age. Justin walked past me, heading straight for the fridge. I knew he was going for ice water. But his stomach issues were pretty bad. I used to stay up late making him hot meals, just so he wouldn’t go hungry and could get his stomach back on track. This time, though, I didn’t stop him like I usually would. The scene from earlier kept replaying in my mind. I couldn’t let it go. “How was the soup I made today? Was it good?” Justin paused mid-sip, seemingly surprised by the sudden question. He turned to face me, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “It was great. Anything Wendy makes is great, of course.” I smiled back, but tears welled up in my eyes. A suffocating feeling clamped down on my chest, making it hard to breathe, my throat raw with pain. Justin, why are you lying to me? He stepped closer, patted my head gently, and said softly, “It’s late, Wendy. Go get some sleep.” He hadn’t noticed anything wrong. Not a single thing. “Oh, right, I put your wallet on the table.” “Honestly, you’re a grown woman, still so forgetful.” I sat there silently in the living room as darkness swallowed me, blanketing my sorrow. In that moment, it felt like I split into two people. One watched everything unfold with cold detachment. The other was utterly heartbroken, desperately urging me to fight for Justin, to hold onto him. I don’t know how long I sat there before I finally forced myself to move, heading towards the bedroom. Justin was already fast asleep. His phone lay on the nightstand nearby. Expressionless, I used his fingerprint to unlock it and opened his messaging app. Right there, catching my eye immediately, were several unread messages. “Thanks for the chicken soup today, boss.” “But… won’t your girlfriend be mad that you gave it to me?” “It’s getting late, you should rest up. Goodnight, boss.” Followed by a cute emoji. I let out a cold sneer and kept scrolling up. “Boss, I’m so scared. What if I mess up this project?” “Don’t worry, I’ll cover for you.” “Boss, you’re the best! Love ya! ” “Mm.” Seeing that, what else was there left to misunderstand? I laughed silently in the dark, tears streaming down my face. “Ugh, this guy is disgusting.” I heard a strange voice echo in my mind. Yeah, he really is disgusting. I mocked my own stupidity. 3 This year marks the fourth year Justin and I have been together. We met in high school during an academic competition and gradually became friends. After graduation, he kept telling me not to leave right away, to wait for him in the park nearby. I did as he asked. And so, on that scorching hot afternoon, the eighteen-year-old boy walked towards me, ears flushed red, holding a single Lisianthus flower. “Wendy Shaw, will you be my girlfriend?” Justin was a good boyfriend. He brought me breakfast, was there for me whenever I needed him, gave me a huge bouquet of Lisianthus every birthday, and showered me with thoughtful, expensive gifts. Almost every anniversary came with a big cake. Senior year of college, my parents died in a car accident, leaving me alone. I sat numbly in the hospital corridor, completely lost. I still remember the sharp smell of antiseptic flooding my senses, almost paralyzing me. It was Justin who took a train for over ten hours to get to me, held me tight, and whispered words of comfort and encouragement over and over. I huddled in his arms, feeling his warmth, sobbing too hard to speak. After the funeral, I carried the two small urns home, feeling completely numb. Justin knelt in front of me, his eyes sincere. I saw my own reflection in them, tiny and fragile. I heard him say, “Wendy, I’ll always be with you. I’ll never let you suffer even the slightest bit.” “From now on, I’m your rock.” “I’ll take care of you, Wendy. Just wait for me.” The emotions I’d suppressed for two weeks finally burst forth. I threw myself into his arms with all my strength, wailing uncontrollably. “Justin, you’re all I have left.” But now… it’s only been a year. Justin, all those promises you made to me… they’re all void now. 4 “Wendy, I’m heading to work. You can sleep in.” In my drowsy state, I felt a warm touch on my forehead. I slowly woke up. “Going so early?” Justin gave a helpless smile, ruffling my hair. “Yeah, gotta work hard to support you, right? I promised my Wendy.” I snuggled against his hand. “Then you have to come home for dinner with me tonight.” “I want to eat out.” Justin playfully tapped my nose. “Okay, deal.” I looked at him, clinging to him like he was my last straw. Justin, if you just come back tonight, if you just show up, I can forgive everything you’ve done wrong. After getting up, I started searching for restaurants, booked one, and shared the location and menu with Justin. “This place looks amazing! Can we eat here tonight?” “Remember to buy me flowers! You know Lisianthus are my favorite.” Lisianthus means sincere, unchanging love. More importantly, every time I saw those flowers, I remembered that hot afternoon four years ago, my boy shyly telling me clumsy sweet nothings. The message went unanswered. My heart sank with it. It’s okay, maybe he’s busy, no time to check his phone. He promised me, he’ll definitely show up in the end. I tried to comfort myself, deceiving myself. When the agreed time arrived, I got all dressed up beautifully and headed to the restaurant. An hour passed. No one came, no messages. Two hours passed. The person I wanted to see still hadn’t appeared. … I called him. No answer. I kept calling, again and again, relentlessly. Finally, on the twelfth call, he picked up. It was incredibly loud on his end – music, the rattle of dice, shrieks, laughter. “Where are you?” “I’m so sorry, Wendy. Something urgent came up here. I can’t make it to dinner.” “What kind of urgent situation?” He hemmed and hawed for a while before finally mumbling, “You know that new assistant I hired? She just landed a huge deal, we’re celebrating with her.” I listened silently, tears dripping onto the table, one by one. “Wendy, you know, she’s really capable. I want to keep her at the company—” I cut him off. “Have fun.” After saying that, without a shred of hesitation, I hung up. “Waiter, bring the food.” I couldn’t taste anything. My tears were flowing uncontrollably now, like a dam had broken, splashing into my bowl. After eating, I hailed a cab to go home, but then I received a friend request notification. I recognized the profile picture from last night. It was the assistant. “Hi Wendy, I’m Tiffany Yan, Justin’s new assistant.” Then she sent a video and a location pin. The video background was dim, looked like a bar or a club. But I couldn’t mistake the main character: Justin. Suddenly, the background noise became a unified chant. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Two figures moved closer and closer, finally pressing together. Just then, the lights suddenly brightened, and I clearly saw the two people locked in a passionate kiss. Who else could it be but Justin and Tiffany Yan? I trembled, finally unable to hold back the nausea rising in my throat. I started dry-heaving. Tears streamed down my cheeks instantly. It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my heart, making me gasp desperately for air. The driver saw my wretched state in the rearview mirror. “Miss, are you alright?” I shook my head, wiping away the tears. “Driver, turn around.”

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The moment Chloe Vance showed up asking me to take her in, I heard a strange voice: 【I can’t believe I actually got reborn back to my high school days. If I get her to adopt me early this time, she’ll definitely give me the company eventually.】 【Old witch, if you don’t give me the company, I’ll make sure you die in another car crash!】 I froze, looking at the pitiful, innocent-looking girl in front of me. My heart sank. Young lady, if what you’re thinking is true, then I won’t be holding back. 1. I was on stage, presenting at my company’s new product launch. Suddenly, the main doors burst open. A girl, dressed deliberately plainly, almost like she was wearing rags, rushed in, dodging the security guards trying to stop her. Weaving through the throng of reporters, she threw herself at my feet, wailing dramatically. “Aunt Eliza, my mother, Brenda Evans… she’s dead! I’m an orphan now! I have nowhere to go!” I was completely baffled. I quickly helped the girl up, trying to understand what was happening. Leaning against me, the girl turned to face all the reporters and spoke first. “My mom was Brenda Evans. She was Eliza Hayes’—Aunt Eliza’s—good friend for many years.” “Right after they finished school, it was my mom who helped Aunt Eliza find her first job, found her a place to live.” “They were around the same age and quickly became best friends, sharing everything.” “Later, Aunt Eliza became successful, started her own company. My mom got married and had me. They drifted apart a bit after that.” After explaining the history to the reporters, the girl turned back to me, her face streaked with tears. “Even though they saw less of each other, my mom never forgot you. She always talked about you.” “Now… she died unexpectedly. I had to bring you to see her one last time, to fulfill her final wish!” Buried memories resurfaced as the girl spoke. I pictured Brenda, strong-willed and determined. The girl who always looked out for me like a little sister… she… she was dead? The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I started trembling uncontrollably. Clutching this girl, who looked so much like a young Brenda—maybe seventy percent resemblance—my heart ached. “What… what happened? How did your mom die? Where is she now?” “She died in an accident yesterday… She’s in the next city over, in her rented room…” Supporting the girl, I was about to get up, ready to go with her to see her mother one last time. Suddenly, an ethereal, yet eerily familiar voice whispered right beside me. 【Seriously? Is this woman nuts? That corpse is disgusting. Why drag me back there?】 【I came here so you’d adopt me straight away, not take me back to look at a dead body!】 2. My eyes widened in disbelief. I stared straight ahead. The girl was sobbing, looking back at me, her eyes tear-filled, her face flushed. Her mouth wasn’t moving, but that strange, familiar voice continued. 【What are you staring at, old witch? My acting is flawless. You think someone as sharp as you can see through it?】 【If you know what’s good for you, just check me into a five-star hotel and go deal with the body yourself. Stop being a nuisance!】 The voice stopped. The girl’s legs suddenly gave way, and she slumped back onto the floor. “Aunt Eliza… after Mom died… I had to handle everything myself. I’m just… so tired now…” My eyes narrowed. My expression hardened. That ethereal, familiar voice… the girl’s dramatic performance… There was no mistake. That voice was her inner thoughts. Corpse… disgusting… old witch… nuisance. What she said and did on the outside, and what she thought on the inside, were complete opposites! Ignoring her act, I pulled her up firmly and led her out of the conference hall. Speeding towards the neighboring city, I stared out the window. The car was silent. No one spoke, but the voice in my ear was non-stop. 【Why’s the driver going so fast? Trying to race to the afterlife? Guess you miss the feeling of dying in that car crash last time, huh?】 【Seriously, this old witch is impossible to figure out. Suddenly flips like that, treating me like her mortal enemy. What an idiot!】 【Having to put on an act and beg her to adopt me while looking at that sour face… it makes me sick, like I’ve swallowed a fly!】 【But hey, at least I got reborn back to high school. If she adopts me now, builds that bond, the old witch will definitely give me the company later…】 The entire drive, the girl—Chloe—her inner voice chattered on, filling me in on the whole story. Chloe Vance. She had been reborn. 3. In her previous life, Chloe’s father died in a construction accident when she was in middle school. Her mother, Brenda, raised her alone, working odd jobs. But the typical story of a child from a poor family maturing early didn’t happen with Chloe. She exploited Brenda’s guilt over being a single mother, constantly demanding more. Anywhere money was needed, Chloe never held back, never got a part-time job, just held out her hand to Brenda. Even after she started working, she complained her salary wasn’t enough to live on. That woman, Brenda, who had been strong her whole life, never imagined the daughter she depended on would exploit her for her own selfish enjoyment. Working multiple jobs a day, she unconditionally funded her vampire daughter’s vanity and laziness. Finally, Brenda collapsed from exhaustion and illness. At her worst, Brenda called Chloe, asking her to come back, wanting to see her. But Chloe refused. 【Stupid woman. Has her brain gone soft? I’m not a doctor. What good would calling me back do?】 That was the last call Brenda ever made. She died alone from her illness. Days later, her body was discovered by the landlord, who called Chloe to deal with it. Only then did she show up. Reluctantly, she initially planned to just pay someone to cremate the body and be done with it. But while going through Brenda’s belongings, Chloe found my phone number. Checking my profile on social media, she confirmed I was that Eliza Hayes, the moderately famous businesswoman. When Chloe was younger, Brenda had told her stories about escaping her controlling family back home and how her good friend, me, had helped her start a new life. Chloe had always dismissed these as tales of two poor girls helping each other, scoffing at them. But seeing my social media profile, she instantly realized her mother’s “good friend” was me. With this connection established, a new idea sparked in her mind: hold a proper funeral for her mother. It would let her contact me and get close to me, and bonus, she could collect funeral donations. A quick buck for Chloe. At the funeral in the previous life, I showed up. My reaction was the same as when I first saw Chloe moments ago – disbelief and grief. Seeing my old friend again, only to find she was gone, leaving behind a daughter who looked so much like her younger self… Feeling guilty for not reconnecting and helping Brenda after I became successful, I agreed to become Chloe’s godmother, essentially taking her in. 4. 【Old witch. Never married, all alone. Just me as her goddaughter. And she still won’t give me the company right away, saying I don’t have experience. So damn picky!】 【Not just stingy, but meddles in everything! Even who I date! Forced me to break up with my true love. Just jealous I had someone, right?】 【One foot in the grave and still won’t listen. Forced my hand, had to arrange that car accident to kill you! And it got me killed too, dammit!】 【Thank God fate gave me a second chance. This time, just watch me destroy you!】 Her thoughts stopped just as we arrived. The car pulled over. Chloe took a deep breath, adjusted her expression, and turned to me. “Aunt Eliza… I don’t think I can go up. I’m afraid if I see Mom’s body… I won’t be able to stop crying…” She lowered her head, sniffling pitifully. I let out a long, slow breath, releasing the tension in my chest. Glancing sideways at Chloe, I got out and went upstairs. The apartment door was slightly ajar. Pushing it open, a wave of damp, cold air hit me. The room was dim. Sunlight was a luxury in these low-rent apartments, probably cost extra. It wasn’t large, maybe under 300 square feet, crammed with various items, but neatly organized. In this humble setting, Brenda had raised the clean-cut, seemingly refined, but ultimately rotten Chloe. Brenda had given everything she had, but that bottomless pit could never be filled! The room looked like any normal living space; there were no signs of preparations for saying goodbye to the deceased. The only “preparation,” I suspected, was the phony mourning outfit Chloe wore for her act! My mood soured further, my expression growing colder. Taking a few steps to the bedside, I saw a very thin person lying there. Almost skin and bones, her hair already half-gray. Her eyes were closed, her features contorted in pain. She was only in her early forties, yet she looked so withered and worn. And… it looked like she had been in extreme pain when she died. My heart clenched violently. I immediately knelt beside her bed. Suddenly, a timid “Aunt Eliza?” came from behind me, followed by that ethereal voice again. 【Shouldn’t have come up here to put on a show. This old witch is crazy. What’s there to cry about?】 【To suck up to you earlier, I personally pushed her down the stairs. Didn’t feel a thing!】 My pupils dilated instantly. I spun around, glaring at Chloe in utter disbelief. Startled by my stare, Chloe took a frightened step back. Before she could react further, I lunged forward and slapped her hard across the face. Animal! Monster! This isn’t a person, this is a heartless beast! To stoop so low for personal gain, to murder her own mother for advancement! Despicable! The slap was forceful, sending Chloe’s still relatively frail body tumbling backward onto the stairs. The apartment building’s stairs were steep and narrow. She rolled, unable to stop, all the way to the bottom landing. I looked down at her from the top, teeth clenched, nails digging deep into my palms. “From today on, you’ll stay with me. You’ll be my adopted daughter.” You wanted to latch onto me, didn’t you? Fine, I’ll give you that chance! But you better pray, you ungrateful viper, that you’re tough enough to survive it! 5. After arranging Brenda’s funeral, I officially took Chloe in. When she arrived at my house, still recovering with broken bones from her tumble down the stairs, her eyes instantly lit up. 【Doesn’t matter what crazy fit she threw back at the apartment. As long as she adopts me, that’s all that counts!】 【Getting adopted five years earlier this time… this fortune is definitely mine for the taking!】 Listening to her thoughts, watching her greedy expression, I remained outwardly calm. Yours for the taking? We’ll see if you even live through the next five years. Before Chloe’s injuries even fully healed, I arranged for her to transfer schools. Her original high school wasn’t bad; Brenda had worked hard to get her in there. But the school I chose wasn’t about elevating her status. It was about pushing her into a pit of fire. “Ms. Hayes, she’s been enrolled in the junior class at Crestview High, the one notorious for the spoiled, unruly kids from wealthy families,” my assistant confirmed. “She starts tomorrow. Also, arrange for someone to follow her discreetly, live-stream everything to me.” The next day, Chloe was sent off to school. A live feed appeared on my computer. The moment Chloe stepped into the classroom, a few boys with mischievous grins eyed her up and down. Noticing their stares, Chloe paused, then walked straight up to them. “What are you looking at? Bunch of creeps acting like you’ve never seen a girl before. Look again and I’ll gouge your eyes out!” The previously rowdy classroom fell silent instantly. All eyes turned towards them. The boys who had been smirking at Chloe froze, their expressions turning cold. Undeterred by the attention, Chloe seemed to relish it, scanning the room and announcing loudly. “From now on, in this class, everyone revolves around me! Everyone listens to me!” Watching this, I was slightly surprised. I hadn’t expected Chloe to have such an arrogant streak. But then I remembered she was reborn. It made sense. Given her personality, it was entirely plausible she developed this arrogance after I took her in during her previous life. My original plan was just to use her natural tendency to show off to get her taught a lesson. Her providing this level of blatant provocation was an unexpected bonus. Just as I refocused on the screen, things escalated. One boy, clearly unable to stand Chloe’s arrogance, cursed and kicked out at her. Caught completely off guard, Chloe took the kick full force. She stumbled backward, crashing into desks and chairs, sending a cascade of clattering noise through the room. After the kick, the boy advanced, stepping hard on Chloe’s one good hand. “What was that you said just now? My hearing’s not great. Didn’t quite catch it.” Gritting her teeth, Chloe tried to kick his foot off her hand with her good leg. But lying on the ground versus standing tall – the advantage was clear. The moment Chloe moved, the boy reacted instantly, stomping down again. This time, his foot landed squarely on her good leg. A faint cracking sound, barely audible. Chloe’s face immediately contorted in agony. A sharp cry escaped her lips. Shin bones are tough, they don’t break easily, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell. After that stomp, all the arrogance vanished from Chloe’s face. Instead, smiles appeared on the faces of the onlookers. Queen bee? Sorry, kid. Everyone in this class is meaner and more entitled than you.

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Right before I died, my adopted daughter finally showed her true colors. She wasn’t an orphan. She was the biological daughter of my housekeeper and my driver. She pinched my oxygen tube shut, staring down at me with pure disgust. “What’s a lonely old woman like you, with no kids, need all this money for?” “Just hurry up and die already! The money comes to us, and we can finally live the good life!” With all those memories intact, I was reborn. This time, you can tear each other apart. 1. In the private hospital room, my adopted daughter, Ava, glared impatiently at me before complaining to my housekeeper. “Mom, didn’t you tell Dad to arrange for that truck driver to hit her? How is she still alive?” Brenda, my housekeeper, didn’t look too pleased either as she peeled an apple for Ava. “Who knows how she’s so damn tough? Yesterday the doctor said her chances were slim.” “Your Dad’s asking the doctor now what we need to watch out for. Then we just do the opposite.” As they were talking, a man pushed the door open – it was Mike, my driver. Seeing Mike walk in, Ava and Brenda both stood up. One called him “Dad,” the other “Honey.” Lying in the hospital bed, tubes sticking out of me everywhere, I struggled to open my eyes, staring in disbelief at the scene unfolding. What… what was happening? That car crash… wasn’t an accident? And… why was the orphan girl I adopted calling my driver and housekeeper Mom and Dad? Why were my driver and housekeeper, who always claimed to be single, actually married? My sluggish brain couldn’t process it all before Mike walked over to my bedside, looking at the monitors. “Doctor says she’s stable for now, but still critical. We gotta be careful.” “When watching her, pay close attention to keeping her calm, breathing steady, heart rate normal.” He’d barely finished speaking when Ava stepped closer, grabbing my oxygen tube and glaring at me. “Old woman, I was never grateful to you. Taking me in, spending money on me – you owed me that!” Brenda sidled up next to her, putting an arm around Ava intimately, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Oh, kids say the darnedest things, don’t mind her. But really, the three of us, we all have you to thank.” “If it wasn’t for you, our own flesh and blood wouldn’t have grown up so pretty and classy.” The three of us, our own flesh and blood… So, everything they were saying now was true. This was all their plan? All this time I thought Ava was an orphan, adopting her… I was just raising their kid for them! But… even if they were a family, why did they want me dead? “Why… why… why hurt me?” Fighting against the searing pain ripping through my body from the crash, I croaked out the words, my voice hoarse. Hearing me, Ava looked at me with utter disgust. “What’s a lonely old woman like you, with no kids, need all this money for?” “Just hurry up and die already! The money comes to us, and we can finally live the good life!” They’d leeched off me after I took her in, and it still wasn’t enough! What they wanted was to kill me, to grab my entire fortune! Ungrateful snakes! Backstabbers! My heart hammered against my ribs like it wanted to break free, fury boiling up inside me. Ignoring the pain wracking my body, I tried to fight back, to scream for help. But Ava saw what I was trying to do. Before I could make a sound, she squeezed harder. The oxygen tube was completely blocked. A crushing feeling of suffocation washed over me. I struggled, trying to rip the mask off, but Brenda pinned my arms down. “What are you fighting for? You’ve had your fancy life for decades. It’s our family’s turn now.” “You’ve got no one, nothing to tie you down. Just die already, stop struggling!” My arms were held fast. The struggling tore at my wounds. The air in my lungs thinned, disappearing bit by bit. Endless pain and despair enveloped me. My vision started to blacken around the edges. I knew I was dying, but I forced my eyes open as wide as I could. I had to memorize these three faces. Even as a ghost, I wouldn’t let them get away with this! 2 My consciousness sank into endless darkness. I don’t know how long passed before, suddenly, everything jolted. A man’s loud, angry voice filled my ears. “Whose kid is this? Squatting in the middle of the road like that? I almost hit her!” Opening my eyes, I found myself sitting in the back seat of the car. Mike was in the driver’s seat. He had his head stuck out the window, yelling at a young-looking girl in front of the car. This scene… it felt so familiar… I’d lived through this before! The first time I met Ava, she was pretending to have a stomach ache, crouched right in the middle of the street. Mike had been driving me home from work. If he hadn’t slammed on the brakes, he would have hit her. Now, it was happening again! Looking at my own younger face reflected in the car window, feeling the realness of my hands and feet, a jolt went through me. I really was reborn. And I’d come back to the exact moment right before I was supposed to adopt Ava! Snapping back to reality, Mike had already gotten out of the car. He was pulling a timid-looking Ava over to the side of the car. “Boss, this kid just popped up out of nowhere, lying in the road.” “Looks like she might not be feeling well. What should we do?” I stared with disgust at the father and daughter in front of me, feeling sick to my stomach. “Is this your first day driving for me? You don’t know what to do?” My sudden sharp tone made both of them flinch, too scared to look me in the eye. Mike looked down at Ava, his hand awkwardly hovering, not sure whether to let go or hold on. I turned my head away, trying to control my rapid breathing, the images from my deathbed flashing before my eyes. I’m back! I have a chance! I can get revenge! I’m going to destroy them! But… how could I make them suffer enough to satisfy this burning hatred? As I thought, the flashing images stopped, freezing on one specific scene: the three of them standing together by my hospital bed, looking like a happy, harmonious family. An idea sparked, and I grabbed onto it. Turning back, I looked at the two outside the car. “Just a young girl, it’s not safe for her to be out here alone at night. Bring her back with us for now.” Mike, who had been looking down, glanced up at me, a flicker of joy crossing his face before disappearing. I saw it all. Joy? I’ll wipe that smile right off your face. 3 At the dinner table, Ava recited the exact same lines as she had in my past life while eating. She was fourteen, an orphan, ran away from the orphanage because she was bullied. My eyes swept over Mike, the driver, and Brenda, the housekeeper, who were lingering, clearly not wanting to leave. I spoke slowly. “How pitiful. Losing your parents so young, left all alone in the world.” As soon as I said it, Ava stopped eating, looking lost. She instinctively turned to look at Mike and Brenda. But their sharp glances stopped her, and she forced herself to turn back around. Pretending not to notice, I continued. “Losing your parents and becoming an orphan is sad, sure. But it’s even worse if they’re alive and just didn’t want you. Now that’s messed up!” “Some parents have no heart. If they don’t like girls, they just dump them. Absolutely shameless!” I paused, a slight smile on my lips, and pressed Ava. “Think hard now. Which kind of orphan are you?” Having been stopped once, Ava didn’t dare turn her head again. Pressured by my question and not knowing how to answer, she lowered her head, avoiding my gaze. Beside her, Brenda tried to step in and help Ava out. “Ma’am, she’s just a kid. Asking her these things… it’s not right!” I let out a short, sharp laugh, then slammed my hand on the table and stood up. “I’m talking to her. When did a housekeeper get the right to interrupt me? Get out!” Brenda’s face instantly turned pale. She quickly lowered her head, mumbled an apology, and backed out of the room. Without even glancing at Brenda, my eyes landed back on Ava. “You’re an orphan, and I don’t have any children of my own. Would you like to stay and be my daughter?” This was exactly what her family wanted. With me offering it outright, of course Ava wouldn’t refuse. Ava nodded eagerly. Nearby, Mike gave Ava a thumbs-up in approval. A smirk played on my lips as I dredged up the twisted ideas I needed to plant in Ava’s head. “Alright, since you’re going to be my daughter, the first lesson I’ll teach you is about knowing your place! There’s a hierarchy.” “We have a housekeeper, a driver, a gardener in this house. You remember this: your status is always above theirs!” This old-fashioned, almost feudal idea was a bit much for Ava to grasp immediately. She looked at me, confused. “When we were talking, that housekeeper interrupted, cut me off. That was wrong. She deserved to be scolded!” “Our position, our status, is higher than the help. They can never interrupt or cut in. Got it?” Although still bewildered, under the force of my presence, Ava finally nodded.

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My mother-in-law was in the hospital. That night, while my husband, Jason, was supposedly watching over her, he reached out and pulled off her oxygen mask. He killed his own mother! I saw the whole thing. I’d just stepped out and came right back, standing just outside the door. Pure terror washed over me. Only one thought screamed in my head: Run! Then Jason’s voice, chillingly cold, came from behind me. “So, you saw.” 1. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced my face into a look of confusion. “Saw what? I forgot my house keys, just came back for them. How’s Mom doing?” He didn’t say anything, just stared, his eyes bloodshot, searching my face for any sign I was lying. I walked up, patted his shoulder, trying to sound soothing. “Look at you, your eyes are so red. You must be exhausted. Maybe I should stay tonight instead?” As I finished speaking, I pretended to head towards the hospital room. But Jason blocked my way. “No need. Here are the keys.” I let out a tiny, silent sigh of relief. Then his next words sent ice crawling up my spine. “It’s late. Let me drive you home.” My smile froze for a second, but my brain kicked in fast. “No, Mom needs someone here. You stay with her. I’ll just grab a rideshare.” He looked down, his face hidden in the shadows, his expression unreadable. “Don’t worry,” I added. “The nurse does rounds early tomorrow morning.” He gave a noncommittal “Mm-hmm.” Then, “Send me a pic of the license plate when you get a ride. Just to be safe.” “Okay, don’t worry,” I said. I booked a ride home on my phone. The driver arrived quickly. As I got in, I caught a glimpse of a figure flashing past a window up on the hospital floor. Just as I thought. He was still watching me. I screenshotted the car info and sent it to Jason. He texted back, “Let me know when you’re home.” The night was pitch black. The driver and I rode in heavy silence. As we reached a main intersection, I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it to the driver. “Hey, can you keep driving past this address? Just hit ‘arrived’ when you get there.” A low voice spoke from the front seat. “Why aren’t you going home?” The driver turned his head. It was Jason’s face! 2. A scream ripped through my throat. I jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. I was in my pajamas, lying in our master bedroom bed. “You’re awake? Come get some breakfast.” Jason pushed the bedroom door open and pulled back the curtains. Sunlight flooded the room, chasing away the shadows. I stared at his face, unable to tell dream from reality. He chuckled softly and tapped my nose. “Still want to sleep in?” His touch felt real, warm. It was him, the same gentle, doting husband. I sat up and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I had a horrible nightmare. It scared me to death.” He stroked my hair. “It’s okay now. Get up, I’m just going out to grab some groceries.” I quickly stopped him. “Doesn’t Mom need someone watching her at the hospital?” “What are you talking about? Mom’s not in the hospital,” Jason said, squeezing my hand affectionately. “Get up, okay? I’ll be back soon.” I nodded, let go, and gave his cheek a quick kiss. My head felt heavy, fuzzy. Only after Jason left did I slowly drag myself out of bed. In the wedding photo on the nightstand, Jason looked suave and gentle. I was smiling ear-to-ear, pure happiness. Sitting on the edge of the bed, possessed by some strange impulse, I called my mother-in-law. If she was okay, then what I saw at the hospital had to be a nightmare. Truthfully, she and I didn’t have the best relationship. It hit rock bottom after she got rid of my cat. We barely spoke day-to-day. The phone rang for a long time. Just as I was about to hang up, thinking no one would answer, a woman’s voice came on the line. “Hello? Who is this?” I immediately hung up and checked the contact again. It was definitely my mother-in-law’s number. But that voice… it wasn’t my mother-in-law at all! Since my father-in-law passed away, she’d always been a loner, rarely had friends over. But I quickly tried to rationalize. Maybe it was some distant relative I didn’t know about visiting. I dialed again. The same woman’s voice answered. I spoke first this time. “Hi, is my mother-in-law there?” There was a long pause, then her tone turned angry. “Jessica? Why are you calling me? What do you mean, ‘is your mother-in-law there’? Oh, I get it. You’re calling just to piss me off, aren’t you!” My mind went blank for a second. Can someone please tell me what is going on? My mother-in-law is seventy. Her voice is old, sharp, shrill. The voice on the phone sounded young! But how did she recognize my voice and know my name? Ignoring her nasty tone, driven by a huge wave of confusion, I blurted out, “Mom? Are you feeling okay?” “You damn bitch! Are you wishing I was sick? My son must have been blind to pick you! I should have fought tooth and nail against it!” That string of curses, that tone… that was exactly how my mother-in-law always talked. But the voice… how could it be…? 3. Another call came in. It was Jason. My head was throbbing from my mother-in-law’s yelling, so I quickly hung up on her and answered Jason’s call. “Hey, honey. Who were you on the phone with?” “Oh, just checking in on Mom. What’s up?” He chuckled lightly on the other end. “You two are like oil and water. Calling her is just asking for an earful, isn’t it? I was calling to ask what you want to eat. I’ll pick something up.” A wave of warmth spread through me. Jason still cared about me. That’s why, despite years of his mom’s disdain and insults, our relationship was still strong. “Anything’s fine, really. I’m not picky. Get what you like. Stop worrying about me all the time.” He spoke gently for a bit longer, making sure his mom hadn’t given me too hard a time, then reluctantly hung up. So far, everything seemed… normal. But something still felt off. I slowly got up and headed to the bathroom to wash my face. The next second, cold sweat prickled all over my body. Jason was standing right behind me. I hadn’t heard him come in. He was staring intently into my eyes through the mirror. 4. Startled, I spun around, backing up half a step until my back hit the sink. “Jason! When did you get back? You scared me half to death.” His gaze shifted to my face. A smile touched his lips, but it felt unfamiliar, alien. His voice was low, chilling. “Why the sudden urge to call Mom?” “No—no reason. I just dreamt she was sick, so I thought I’d call and see how she was.” He didn’t speak, just kept his eyes locked on mine, scrutinizing every flicker of expression. The small, closed-in bathroom felt suffocating. I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stay calm. I tilted my head up, trying to look casual. “What’s wrong?” After a long moment, he finally stepped back out of the bathroom. “Nothing. Come on, I’m taking you out for lunch today.” The knot of tension in my stomach tightened again. A huge question mark formed in my mind. Ever since I’d known him, we never ate out. I remember once, I was really craving sushi and begged Jason to take me. When his mom found out, she chewed him out, poking his forehead, yelling about him having no self-control, eating garbage from outside. After that, I never dared suggest eating out again. Jason called from the living room, urging me to hurry. I didn’t have time to think. I grabbed the nearest clothes, threw them on, and went out. When we ordered, I told the waiter, “Light on the oil, no spicy peppers, please.” Jason stopped me. “No, it’s fine. Make it regular.” His mom was vehemently against us eating anything spicy or heavy. She usually made steamed or boiled dishes, especially vegetables. It made me wonder if she was Buddhist. She used to boast to me that Jason grew up eating her cooking, which is why he was so healthy and smart, and that our future kids would have to follow her personally approved recipes too. I’d always shake my head and argue that we needed to consider the kids’ tastes, not just force her ideas on them. That led to a huge fight, ending with us not speaking. Her favorite line was: “My son must have been blind to pick you!” 5. My eyes drifted to the dishes in front of Jason – Spicy Beef, Frog Legs with Pickled Chilies. The bright red peppers screamed flavor and heat. I was about to swap my plain stir-fried bok choy for his dish when he pressed my hand down. I watched as he picked up several pieces of beef coated in thick Sichuan peppercorns and chili oil, and ate them without batting an eye. “Jason, you…” “Got tired of bland food. Time for a change now and then.” Watching him shovel down spicy food, remembering the nightmare version of him, a chill ran down my spine. Something about Jason felt… different. I shook my head slightly. “If Mom finds out about this,” I whispered, “she’ll say I’m corrupting you again.” His chopsticks paused mid-air. Then he resumed eating, stuffing beef into his mouth. His face flushed slightly from the spice, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. I quickly handed him a glass of water. “When I called earlier, Mom’s voice sounded weird. Since it’s the weekend, maybe we should go visit her?” That strange woman’s voice still echoed in my head. “Visit her? So we can fight again?” Jason took a sip of water and rubbed his temples. “I have things to do this afternoon. Maybe another day.” “Okay…” I noticed a drop of chili oil on his shirt, bright red and shiny. I grabbed a napkin to wipe it. “Look at you, getting food all over your shirt.” He was always so neat, never allowing a single speck of dirt on his clothes. I dabbed at it uselessly. “See? That’s what happens when you eat spicy food, oil drips everywhere. I’ll wash it for you when we get home,” I said helplessly. He stared down at the stain, lost in thought. After lunch, he went off to run his errands, and I started walking home slowly by myself. As I reached the corner, the image of his mom having her oxygen mask removed flashed through my mind. My heart pounded. Thinking it over, I still felt uneasy. I decided to grab a cab and head over to his mom’s place. 6. The cab stopped at the entrance to the alley. I paid and got out, planning to buy some fruit and milk at the corner store. Old Mrs. Henderson at the store saw me arrive alone and looked puzzled, peering behind me. “Coming to see your mother-in-law? Jason didn’t come with you?” I picked through the bananas. “Oh, he had something to do. Are these fresh?” “Fresh as can be, just came in this morning.” Mrs. Henderson sat back down and went back to cracking sunflower seeds. “You know, that Carol really lucked out. Husband died early, but she raised a good son. Nobody around here has a son as filial and obedient as hers.” I managed a small smile, taking the bananas to be weighed, then picked out some apples. Mrs. Henderson put down her seeds to weigh the fruit. “They’ve been through a lot together, just the two of them, all these years. Their bond is really strong. Carol told me Jason used to call her for two hours every single day back in college. Sigh, not like my kids. Wild horses couldn’t drag them home. A call every ten days or half a month is a miracle.” “Well, Mrs. H, everyone’s got their own treasures, right?” I smiled, paid, and picked up my bags. It wasn’t just college. Jason and I had been married for three years, and he still kept up that habit of calling his mom every day, rain or shine, for exactly two hours. Mrs. Henderson followed me to the door. “Oh, Jason’s wife, one more thing! Remind your mother-in-law about the line dancing meet-up this afternoon. She’s so proud, sometimes she needs coaxing.” I chuckled inwardly. Mrs. Henderson seriously overestimated my influence with my mother-in-law. “Sure, I’ll try.” Kids were playing noisily in the alley. One boy wasn’t looking and ran right into me. His mom saw it and yelled, “Mikey! Watch where you’re going! What if that had been Mrs. Evans? You think you could get away with running wild then?” I freed a hand to pat the boy’s head. “It’s okay, kids are just playing.” My mother-in-law was eccentric and proud. Most neighbors avoided interacting with her, and she, in turn, looked down on everyone. There were very few people in the world she actually respected. According to her, me marrying Jason was the result of my ancestors burning incense for eighteen generations. Even though we met through an arranged setup, and she was the one who chose me. Even though my education, looks, and family background were better than Jason’s, it didn’t stop her from disliking me. Lifestyle, eating habits, even ways of thinking – nothing could clash with hers. If it did, she’d condemn you to hell and unleash a torrent of verbal abuse. I often counted my blessings that I was just the daughter-in-law. Growing up under her thumb must have been incredibly tough for Jason.

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The world was freezing over, and my boyfriend, using a vacation as an excuse, wanted to bring his entire family to stay in my newly bought mountain cabin. His dad was a slob, spitting everywhere and wiping his nose with his hand. I tried to patiently explain proper hygiene, but his mom attacked me with a needle, saying I had no manners and didn’t respect my elders. They kicked me out onto the porch, refusing to let me eat and telling me I needed to learn some manners. My boyfriend’s younger brother played the nice guy, deliberately bringing me undercooked green beans, causing me to get food poisoning with violent vomiting and diarrhea. He then ratted me out to his family, saying I was trying to steal food and he had been so smart to catch me. My boyfriend wouldn’t even listen to my explanation, calling me a manipulative bitch. They beat me and kicked me, not caring if I lived or died, and threw me out of the house, telling me to go find food. I froze to death, full of anger and resentment, right outside my own front door. I woke up with a jolt, staring at the TV screen showing a low-temperature warning. I grabbed my phone and called my boyfriend. This time around, I was going to make his whole family pay. 1 “The National Weather Service is predicting a major cold front coming in tomorrow, the strongest of the year so far.” The familiar weather report played on the TV. A wave of heat rushed through me, my chest burning with rage. After a brief but intense bout of pain, I fell to the floor, gasping for air. I opened my eyes, exhausted, to find myself lying in the living room of my mountain cabin. Unlike the image I remembered, filled with trash and grime, the room was clean, with a soft, new sheepskin rug. I had been reborn, ten days before the disaster. My parents bought this cabin for me. It wasn’t huge, one bedroom, two bathrooms, a living room, and a kitchen, but it was quiet and peaceful, with a gorgeous view of the mountain stream through the massive picture windows. My parents were always busy with work, so they tried to make up for it with material things. They bought this place because it was beautiful, secluded, and had all the latest amenities. I came up here for vacations and to relax whenever I could. But little did they know, it would become my tomb. The hunger I had felt before dying flooded my brain. I ran to the fridge, grabbed a chilled ham hock, and started stuffing it into my mouth, washing it down with a bottle of ice-cold Coke. I didn’t even care about the cold air blasting from the refrigerator. Compared to the arctic freeze that had killed me, this was practically a sauna. Just as I was indulging in my newfound happiness, a familiar ringtone, his ringtone, made me instinctively hide the food. That sound was like the Grim Reaper himself, bringing back memories of my hellish life. Last time, my boyfriend, Chad, had called me wanting to bring his family to my place. [“Babe, I heard you bought a cabin up in the mountains. Can my family come stay for a few days?”] [“You know, my parents are getting older, and they want to take a vacation. They think hotels are too expensive and would like to come stay at your place.”] [“You don’t want to disappoint them the first time they meet you, do you?”] I had been so head-over-heels for Chad that I didn’t think twice before agreeing. Looking back, I realized how messed up it was. How did he know I had bought the cabin? And how did he know the address? I had only told my best friend, Megan, who worked at the same company. We lived in the same apartment building, carpooled to work every day, and went out for drinks and movies on weekends. A couple of times Megan had wanted to come with me to the cabin, but it was my secret escape, so I always made excuses. Megan acted a little hurt, but she never said anything. Chad and I had gone to the same college. We ended up working in the same city after graduation. I was blinded by love. Thinking about it now, the warning signs were there all along. He’d show up at my office to take me to lunch. Whenever I got back to my apartment after lunch, Megan was always out. She’d make up all sorts of excuses for not being home. One time I was leaving to grab a coffee and overheard Megan on a voice call with a guy, and the voice sounded a lot like Chad’s. She looked up and saw me and panicked. She stammered and said it was a friend from years ago. Looking back, their acting was terrible. Those two had been hooking up behind my back for who knows how long. 2 Now, remembering those times, I hated myself for being so clueless, for not seeing through their lies. Last time, to make a good impression on his parents, I paid for their tickets and even drove to the bus station to pick them up. I didn’t want them to get lost, so I made sure I got all of their dietary restrictions and preferences. I acted like a servant catering to a master, trying to make them happy. But that family of entitled jerks treated me like I was beneath them. They ate my food, used my things, and constantly criticized everything I did. If they were unhappy about something, they threw a fit. When the cold wave hit, they kicked me out of my own house because I didn’t have enough food prepared for five people, they told me I wasn’t allowed back until I found more food. No matter how much I pounded on the door and screamed for help, they wouldn’t open it. Meanwhile, they were laughing and carrying on like nothing was wrong. [“It doesn’t matter how much money she has, my son tricked her. You have good taste, she is dumb enough to give him money and sex. You should marry Megan.”] [“If we let her join our family, she’ll probably give birth to a dumb grandkid.”] Outside, I shivered from the cold and from the anger that was building inside. Chad had been cheating on me with Megan all along. They just saw me as a walking ATM. I wasn’t going to run away this time. I had been betrayed and tortured by the people I trusted the most, and I had died of starvation and exposure. They were going to experience the same pain. I forced myself to calm down and answered the phone, acting excited. [“Really? Your whole family is coming?”] My hand was shaking, my whole body trembling with rage. [“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure your parents are happy!”] I heard faint praise in the background. [“My son is so awesome! Just like his old man! He can just pick up any girl and she’ll provide for them.”] I pretended not to hear it and kept up the perfect girlfriend act. [“When are you guys coming? I can’t wait to meet your parents for the first time.”] Chad, emboldened by his family’s flattery and my obvious eagerness, became even more arrogant, sure that he had me completely under his thumb. [“We’ll be there in nine days. You better be ready, you hear? My parents already think of you as their daughter-in-law.”] I agreed, sounding like a dutiful wife. After hanging up, I grabbed a banana and pretended it was Chad. I chopped it into pieces. After releasing my anger, I mixed the chopped fruit with yogurt and lay down on the soft couch, watching trashy TV and eating. In this familiar, safe place, I drifted off to sleep. It was quiet and peaceful. I woke up when the sun filled the living room with golden light. The long-lost feeling of comfort made me wonder if the apocalypse had all been a nightmare. But then I looked at my phone, and saw the disaster warnings. My pain had been real. The cold wave was coming, bringing power outages, no running water, and freezing temperatures. This wasn’t a joke. Luckily, I had nine days to prepare before Chad and his family arrived. This time, I wouldn’t let them get away with anything. 3 The weather was getting colder, and the streets were mostly deserted. The supermarket was even quieter than usual; people weren’t worried and weren’t stocking up. After all, the weather report only called for a cold front. Nobody expected an apocalyptic freeze. I grabbed two shopping carts and headed straight for the frozen foods. Every kind of frozen food imaginable – dumplings, soups, noodles – anything that was easy to cook. I also grabbed long lasting fresh vegetables. When I was a kid we would save vegetables like this to eat in the spring. Everything went into my cart. I didn’t forget the snacks! Anything that looked good, I tossed into the cart. The cashier was in shock. If I hadn’t been paying for everything and acting normal, she probably would have thought I was robbing the place. After buying about two months’ worth of supplies, I told her I was throwing a big party and needed all this food. I paid extra to have the grocery store deliver it to my house. At the same time, I hired a construction crew to do some rush work on my cabin. The security system was already state-of-the-art. My parents had it installed because I was living alone. The main purpose of this construction was to install hidden cameras around the house. The most important part was the basement. I planned to live in the basement during the disaster. It had been built to shelter from storms, so it was very safe. The insulation was much better than in the main house. The basement would be warmer and use less energy. The basement had several exits, all hidden and disguised. Nobody would ever find them. If something went wrong, I could escape quickly. I didn’t care about the basement’s looks; I just wanted it done fast. I moved all my furniture, toys, collectibles, and cosmetics down there. I also installed a space heater and a wall of monitors so I could keep an eye on everything happening in the house. The passageway leading from the house to the basement was specially camouflaged. Nobody would find it except me. 4 Nine days later, Chad and his family were supposed to arrive at the cabin. I lay back on the lounge chair in the garden, soaking up the sun. It would be a while before I saw it again. My phone rang. [“Where the hell are you?”] I made my voice sound confused and frantic. [“What’s wrong, baby? Why aren’t you here yet?”] I swirled the wine in my glass and lounged in the chair. [“Where’s your house? The address you gave us is in the middle of nowhere! Are you messing with me, Megan?”] I bit back a laugh. [“Aren’t you on Peach Tree Lane? That’s where my house is.”] Chad was livid. [“Are you crazy? You wrote PINE Tree Lane, which is half a mountain away from Peach Tree Lane!”] I heard a chorus of angry voices on the other end of the phone. [“What kind of idiot did you pick up? She can’t even get the directions right.”] [“Chad, when you get there, smack her a few times to teach her a lesson.”] I ignored the angry accusations and pretended to be sorry. [“Oh, no! You need to turn around and come back! It’s going to get dark soon and you’ll have to spend the night on the mountain.”] I hung up, leaving them stranded in the middle of nowhere. Knowing they had to hike for hours in the cold and damp mountains to find a ride made my dinner taste extra delicious. It was pitch black, and I thought they were going to be stuck in the mountains all night. Then the caretaker called. On the road to my cabin, I had built a small, temporary cabin and hired a caretaker to register all visitors. I paid an actor who doubled as a bodyguard. I expected this family to be a handful. When I got there, they were covered in frost, their noses bright red, shivering and stomping their feet. I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from turning up. I almost burst out laughing. I lowered my head and put on a look of concern and regret, running to meet them to cover my glee. After composing myself, I looked at them with a face full of guilt. [“Aunt, Uncle! I was waiting for you all day! Why didn’t you call me when you got here?”] Chad saw me and came at me, his face red with anger. [“You stupid woman! How could you write down the wrong address? We’ve been hiking forever! I froze my ass off!”] The bodyguard had been waiting for this. He grabbed Chad’s arm and squeezed it hard. Chad screamed. [“Who do you think you are, putting your hands on my boss?”] The bodyguard was huge, six-foot-five and 250 pounds. He had a deep voice and a menacing presence. [“If my boss loses a hair on her head, you and your family are done for in this godforsaken place.”] The bodyguard stepped back and stood in front of me, staring Chad down. Chad rubbed his aching wrist, swallowed hard, and took a step back. I hid behind the bodyguard, looking upset. [“I didn’t mean to do it! I’m not good with directions. I missed you so much! I kept heating up dinner, waiting for you and your parents to arrive.”] Chad knew he couldn’t lay a hand on me. There was dinner waiting. He grudgingly accepted my apology. [“It’s a good thing you know what’s good for you. Take us to eat. We’ve been starving.”] I forced a smile and led them to the cabin. Because it was a family meal, I had the bodyguard take a break in the guardhouse. They hadn’t eaten all day, and I didn’t want to waste the special meal I had prepared.

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We were arguing in the car when the crash happened. My wife, Olivia, died instantly. By the time I woke up in the hospital, she’d already been cremated. Guilt ate me alive; I felt it was all my fault. I took care of her parents faithfully until they both passed away. But at their funeral, I saw someone who looked exactly like her. After some digging, I discovered the truth: the car crash was faked. She staged her death to ditch me and run off with her college dreamboat. When she found out I was investigating, she lured me to a mountain lookout and, when I wasn’t looking, shoved me off the edge. I blinked, and suddenly I was back in the car, back on that day, right before the argument. This time? If she wanted to play dead, I’d make sure she stayed that way. For good. 1 “Honey, I was thinking maybe we could go on a trip tomorrow? Like camping?” Olivia, my wife, suddenly draped herself over my arm, a complete flip from her usual icy demeanor. I stared at her, thrown by this unexpected warmth. In the four years we’d been married, Olivia had always kept me at arm’s length. If I suggested a vacation, she’d claim she was a homebody, only to turn around and hit the beach with her old college buddy, Mark. If I tried staying home to keep her company, she’d complain about needing “personal space” and tell me to leave her alone. Even intimacy was rare; she always seemed resistant. That’s why we still didn’t have kids. I’d always chalked it up to her personality, figuring enough care and affection would eventually thaw her out. So, when Olivia excitedly suggested this trip, I agreed without a second thought. I even called my best friend, Chris, practically bragging that I’d finally melted her frozen heart. But seeing me lost in thought, she instantly pulled her arm away, her face hardening. “What? You don’t want to go?” The flash of disgust in her eyes hit me like a ton of bricks. I finally got it. She was completely fed up with me. “I’d love to go,” I said carefully, “but your parents just got here. We can’t just leave them.” Her parents had arrived a few days earlier, supposedly to see how their daughter was doing. “Oh, don’t worry about us!” my mother-in-law chimed in, bustling in from the other room. “If Liv wants to go, you two should go. We’ll still be here when you get back.” Her eagerness felt… suspicious. Like she knew about the fake death plan all along. I nodded slowly. “Alright then. I’ll run to the grocery store, grab some things for you guys. Sorry to leave you hanging for a couple of days, but we’ll treat you to a nice dinner when we get back.” Relief washed over both their faces as I agreed. Downstairs, I didn’t head straight for the grocery store. First, I swung by an electronics shop and bought a tiny body camera, clipping it discreetly onto my hiking backpack. Then, I called Chris. He’s a big-shot investigative reporter. “Be near Eagle Crest Pass tomorrow morning,” I told him. “Trust me, there’s a huge story breaking.” He sounded skeptical but agreed to be there. Next stop: the pharmacy. I picked up some prescribed stomach medicine and some strong sleeping pills. When I got back from the grocery run, I found them all laughing and chatting cozily. The moment they saw me, the smiles vanished. I ignored it. “Mom, Dad, got all the groceries. I’ll prep some meals for you now, so you’ll have food ready for tomorrow and the day after.” My father-in-law, who’d made a bit of money in some small business years ago, always spoke with an air of superiority. “Now, Leo,” he started, “remember, no MSG when you cook. Plenty of vinegar, though. And make sure those greens are cooked until they’re mush…” His wife elbowed him lightly. “I don’t really care for your cooking, Leo,” she added, trying to sound polite. “Always seems a bit… off. But I suppose we’ll manage while you’re gone.” I swallowed my irritation and cooked anyway, making sure to label everything carefully. “Mom,” I said, pointing, “this is for tomorrow, this is for the day after. Don’t mix them up.” “Some of this stuff spoils quickly,” I added pointedly. “Could give you an upset stomach if you eat it on the wrong day.” At the mention of stomach trouble, my father-in-law grumbled some more, but thankfully, he seemed to register which food was for which day. 2 We hit the road early the next morning. I’d deliberately oversalted the breakfast I made. Olivia, driving, started complaining almost immediately. “Can’t you do anything right, Leo? Even making breakfast… way too much salt. No wonder Dad says your cooking sucks.” I calmly handed her an open bottle of water. “Sorry about that, honey. Here, drink some water.” She gulped down half the bottle and handed it back. “Hey, the mountain road up ahead gets tricky,” I offered. “Want me to take over driving?” She stiffened instantly, suddenly defensive. “No, I’m fine. I feel like driving today.” I just nodded. Any lingering shred of hope I had for her, for us, finally dissolved. We pulled into a rest stop halfway up. She told me to go dump the trash while she stayed in the car, making a call. I walked a good distance away, then switched on the listening device I’d planted earlier. “Okay, listen,” her voice came through, sharp and businesslike. “Be ready at Eagle Crest Pass. Splash plenty of fake blood around – make it look convincing. Got it?” Pause. “And put that fake rock prop right in the middle of the road. I’ll drive straight into it. Make sure you get good photos.” Another pause. “Don’t worry, you’ll get paid well once this is done.” Silence, then another call. “Mark? Hey! It’s happening soon. We’ll finally be together. Did you remind your uncle to get that death certificate ready? Just hand it directly to the guy who comes with me… Leo.” Pause. “Yeah, the cremation place is all set. Someone’s waiting to handle things on that end.” Another pause, her voice turning syrupy sweet. “Mark, baby, we’re almost there. God, if it wasn’t for that settlement money that idiot got, I would never have wasted my time on him.” In the previous timeline, right after her “death,” Mark had shown up with a bogus IOU for ten million dollars he claimed she owed him. Drowning in guilt and egged on by her parents, I’d sold my house and handed over every penny I had. God, I was such a fool back then. I waited until she hung up, then walked back to the car. She held out an already opened carton of milk. “Here,” she said, trying to sound considerate. “Drink this. You barely touched your breakfast; don’t want you getting hungry on the road.” I took the milk and, under her watchful, expectant gaze, drank the whole thing. Joke’s on her. I was the one who packed the car. I’d swapped her doctored milk with a perfectly normal one hours ago. 3 I sent a quick text to Chris: Eagle Crest Pass. Get ready. If you see anyone suspicious setting something up, film them discreetly, then call the cops. With everything in motion, a strange calm settled over me. Still, looking at the woman I’d loved, or thought I loved, for so many years, knowing how this would end… a flicker of regret, maybe pity, sparked inside me. I just watched her quietly for a moment. She noticed my gaze and recoiled. “God, stop looking at me like that,” she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. “It’s disgusting. Like you’ve never seen a woman before.” “Honestly, Leo, you’re just… pathetic. No ambition. I genuinely can’t stand you.” After I got that settlement money, all I wanted was to relax, enjoy life, spend time with family. But in her eyes, that translated to pathetic. My gaze turned cold. “Then why did you marry me, Olivia? If you didn’t love me, why stay with me?” “Because you wouldn’t leave me alone!” she spat back. “Clinging like some pathetic lost puppy! I only stuck around because I felt sorry for you!” Felt sorry for me. Right. Sure, I pursued her. Hard. Dropped a fortune doing it – expensive bags, designer clothes, fancy dinners at places I couldn’t really afford. She never said no, never even hinted she wasn’t interested. Now I was the pathetic one? I let out a long sigh, picking up the water bottle I’d given her earlier. It was nearly empty. “Okay, okay, my bad,” I said, handing it to her. “Here, finish this. Calm down.” She shot me a sideways glare but took the bottle and drained the rest. I watched her closely. Her eyelids started to droop. She looked like she was fighting sleep. Time was running out. “Honey,” I said gently, “maybe I should drive now? You look tired. Eagle Crest Pass is just up ahead.” We were heading to a campsite high in the mountains. All the turns and passes looked similar up here; it was easy to get confused if you weren’t paying close attention. The mention of “Eagle Crest Pass” jolted her awake. “I’m perfectly fine driving!” she snapped, suddenly alert. “Why are you so insistent on taking over? Don’t you trust my driving?” She was picking a fight, trying to replicate the scenario from the last time, trying to get me out of the car so she could stage the accident. “That’s not it,” I said, feigning helplessness. “I’m just worried you’re tired.” “Oh, I think you don’t trust me! God, you’re such a worrier, always nagging. I’m not made of glass, Leo!” “And remember that hospital project investment I told you about? Mark’s project? You hesitated! So useless!” Mark’s hospital venture. I knew it was shady, probably skirting the law, but Olivia had pushed, so I’d sunk over a million into it. Lost every cent. Afterward, Olivia blamed me, claiming I didn’t invest enough. I glanced at the clock. Past noon. Her parents would have likely eaten their lunch by now. The lunch I’d prepared. “Just get out! I don’t want to look at you!” she yelled. We were on a winding mountain road, miles from anywhere. No chance of catching a cab. But she didn’t care. I looked at her one last time. Her eyes were slits, struggling to stay open. “I… alright,” I stammered, playing my part. “Just… be careful driving, okay? Eagle Crest Pass is right around the bend.” “Get out!” she screamed. The car screeched to a halt. I opened the door and stepped out. The mountain road was deserted. Just me, the wind, and the tiny red light blinking almost imperceptibly on my backpack strap. She didn’t know. Eagle Crest Pass wasn’t this turnoff. It was the next one. 4 I tossed the empty water bottle she’d drunk from into a roadside trash bin, then quickly called Chris. The second I hung up, a deafening BOOM echoed from up ahead. Thick black smoke billowed into the clear mountain air. I sprinted forward. The car… or what was left of it… was completely engulfed in flames, already burning down to a skeletal frame. I dropped to my knees on the asphalt, forcing out gut-wrenching sobs. Soon, sirens wailed in the distance. Someone must have called 911. An ambulance arrived, police cars right behind them, quickly sealing off the mountain road. They loaded Olivia’s… remains… and me into the same ambulance. At the hospital, the official verdict came quickly: severe burns, deceased upon arrival. An autopsy would be required. Tears streaming (or so it seemed), I nodded my consent. Then, I immediately sought out her dear friend, Mark. “Mark,” I choked out, playing the distraught husband. “I don’t know anyone here… the doctors… they said they need to do an autopsy on Olivia… I…” Mark looked genuinely startled to see me conscious and walking around. According to their plan, I should have been passed out cold somewhere. He fumbled for his phone, dialed a number. It rang and rang, unanswered. He looked flustered. “Call her parents,” he instructed me curtly. I made a show of dialing their number several times. No answer. Mark looked increasingly uneasy, but he stuck to the script. He produced a folded document. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “Death certificate. Signed.” This meant no autopsy. He couldn’t risk them finding the sleeping pills still in her system. If they found that, I’d be implicated too. 5 After arranging things with the crematorium staff – specifically, the contact he mentioned – Mark turned back to me. “Okay, the funeral home is expecting you. Just take her straight there.” He seemed hesitant, reaching as if to pull back the white sheet covering Olivia. I quickly stepped in. “Just… straight to cremation?” I asked, feigning confusion and grief. “Don’t they need to examine the body or anything? Maybe I should check back with that coroner…” Mark’s hand froze. He clearly didn’t want anyone looking too closely. “Just go!” he snapped, impatient. “Do what I told you. Take her to Henderson at the crematorium. Give him this.” He thrust the death certificate into my hand. Heart pounding, but keeping my hand trembling, I took the certificate and headed for the crematorium. Just as instructed, I found the guy named Henderson and handed him the paperwork. He scanned the death certificate, then glanced grimly at the body bag on the gurney. His brow furrowed deeply. He reached for the phone on his desk.

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Spring Break, and the old college group chat suddenly blew up. Jessica Miller was bragging, practically shouting through the screen: “Guess what? I’m engaged to Brandon Prescott! You know, the eldest son of the Prescott family? This weekend, I’m going to the family estate to meet everyone, get the whole official welcome. Get ready for wedding invites soon!” Everyone immediately started kissing up to her, blowing smoke like crazy. Then, like clockwork, they ganged up to tag me: “Unlike some people, who not only kiss up to their advisors but probably sleep with them too.” I just scoffed and didn’t reply. It was the same old garbage. All because I accidentally walked in on her getting way too cozy with our married academic advisor, she flipped it and spread rumors that I was the one having an affair with him. Pathetic. Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Arthur Prescott himself, the patriarch of the Prescott dynasty: “Ma’am, my grandson’s fiancée is visiting the estate tomorrow to be formally introduced and added to the family records. We’d be honored if you could join us.” Yeah, nobody ever believes it. That the most senior member of the Prescott family, the one who literally holds the pen for the family registry, the one sitting on billions, is a twenty-two-year-old college student. Me. … The moment I stepped out of the Rolls-Royce Mr. Prescott sent for me and stood before the grand entrance of the ancestral home, I tilted my head back, looking up at the old stone archway. Walking inside, I headed towards the back gardens. But then, from a secluded spot deep within the old wooded area near the edge of the property, I heard… sounds. Soft moans. My curiosity piqued, I crept closer, quiet as a mouse. Leaves rustled in the breeze, and through a gap, I saw them. My eyes widened. I stared hard at the woman. It was Jessica, looking flushed, wrapped around some guy I didn’t recognize. They were all over each other. Her eyes met mine. She instantly shoved the man away. She froze, frantically smoothing her clothes, then shot me a look so full of venom it could curdle milk. Then they both scrambled away. I was confused, but Mr. Prescott’s future granddaughter-in-law was arriving today. I decided to keep quiet for now. A little while later, as I was about to enter the main house where the family gathers, I noticed a forgotten broom lying near the entrance path. I bent down to pick it up. As I straightened and walked into the main hall, I was met with bursts of laughter. I looked up, and my eyes locked with Jessica’s. I frowned slightly. Jessica blinked, then her eyes raked over me from head to toe. She smirked at her gaggle of friends clustered behind her, then crossed her arms and sauntered towards me. She glanced pointedly at the broom in my hand, then back at my face. “Well, well,” she sneered. “Look who it is. Our esteemed student body president, moonlighting as a cleaning lady at the Prescott estate. And here I thought you were so high and mighty.” Her friends behind her burst into mocking laughter. The sound grated on my ears. My nails dug into my palms. “What are you doing here?” I demanded, keeping my voice low. A flicker of pure nastiness crossed Jessica’s face before one of her friends jumped in. “Jessica is going to be the future Mrs. Prescott, you idiot. This is the Prescott family home. Naturally, she’ll be your boss soon enough.” Another one linked arms with Jessica, practically dripping fake sweetness. “Oh, Jessica, I wish I had your luck! Marrying into the Prescott family… all that money and status…” Jessica soaked it up, a smug little smile playing on her lips. I dropped my gaze, stepping around them towards the main room. I couldn’t resist a cold chuckle. “He must be blind then,” I muttered, “ending up with someone like you.” Suddenly, a hand clamped down hard on my arm. “What did you say?! Did I say you could leave?” Jessica blocked my path. Her friends quickly surrounded me, trapping me in the middle. I couldn’t move. Before I could react, someone grabbed my hair from behind, yanking me backward. As I struggled, Jessica kicked me hard in the back of my knee. My leg buckled. I crumpled, landing hard on my knees on the polished floor. She crouched down in front of me, gripping my chin, her fingers digging in. A cruel smile spread across her face. “Still sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, aren’t you? Seeing things you shouldn’t see, saying things you shouldn’t say. You just never learn.” 2 I thrashed, trying to get away, but Jessica violently shoved me, sending me sprawling onto the floor. She planted her high heel squarely on the back of my hand, the sharp point grinding into my skin. Pain shot up my arm. I could feel the skin break. Jessica’s face was twisted with malice. She placed a hand protectively on her stomach, smiling sweetly. “You know, if you’d just told me you were working here as a cleaner, I could have put in a good word for you.” Summoning all my strength, I shoved upwards with my free hand. She stumbled backward, momentarily losing her balance. Her friends gasped and rushed behind her, cushioning her fall. Jessica looked genuinely shaken for a second. Painfully, I pushed myself up. Blood dripped from my hand onto the pristine floor. One of her friends charged forward, kicking me hard in the stomach. I gasped, doubling over, and fell to the floor again. Pain washed over me. Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision. “You little bitch!” Jessica shrieked, grabbing a fistful of my hair. “This baby is the future Prescott heir! Are you trying to kill me? Is that it?” She started slapping me, hard, across the face, again and again. My mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood. My ears were ringing. I looked up at her, managing a weak, knowing smile. “Prescott heir? Are you so sure about that?” That hit a nerve. It struck the core of her insecurity. Jessica’s grip loosened slightly. She spun around, trying to regain her composure, projecting false confidence. “Don’t you dare spread lies! This baby is a Prescott!” I slowly, shakily, got to my feet again. I laughed softly. “Why so defensive? I never said it wasn’t.” Her friends exchanged uneasy glances. “You think everyone’s as disgusting as you?” Jessica spat, pointing a shaking finger at me. “Going after married advisors? You’re just trash.” She was dredging up the lie from last year. The Photoshopped pictures she’d plastered all over the campus network. The university, desperate to protect the advisor’s reputation, had pinned it all on me, leaving a permanent black mark on my record. Thinking about it made my chest tighten with fury. My eyes found Sarah Chen, standing nervously on the edge of the group. I grabbed her arm, my voice rising. “Sarah! You were right there with me! Tell them the truth!” Sarah lowered her head, trembling. “Sarah, please,” I begged, my voice softer now. “Forget about last year. I just need you to tell the truth now. Give me that much.” I looked at her, hope flickering inside me. But then Jessica sidled up to Sarah, leaning in and whispering something in her ear. Sarah finally lifted her head. The look she gave me was… unreadable. Troubling. My stomach clenched with dread. Sure enough, when Sarah turned to face the others, she squeezed her eyes shut and yelled, “I saw her! I saw Ava sitting on the advisor’s lap!” Jessica let out a triumphant, ugly laugh. I just stood there, stunned. A bitter, hollow smile touched my lips. 3 Jessica gestured to her friends. They closed in on me again, grabbing at my clothes, shoving their phone cameras right in my face. My cries of pain and humiliation only seemed to fuel their amusement. Before I could process what was happening, someone grabbed the broom from near the entrance and swung it hard, hitting me across the back. I tried to fight back, to push them away, but I was outnumbered and weak. I squeezed my eyes shut, overwhelmed by shame and helplessness. I heard a sharp intake of breath, then the whistle of the broom swinging down again. But instead of hitting me, someone threw themselves in front of me, taking the blow. I twisted my head. It was Sarah, her face pale. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. I shoved her away forcefully. “What kind of act is this now?!” I yelled, tears finally breaking free and streaming down my face despite my anger. Jessica snatched the broom back, her face contorted with rage, and lunged at me again. The blow landed hard. I choked, spitting a spray of blood onto the floor. Suddenly, one of the household staff, an older woman, rushed over. She bowed slightly, wringing her hands. “Miss, please, please stop hitting her!” Jessica grabbed the woman by her uniform collar. “You better think carefully who you’re crossing,” she hissed. “You piss me off, and you won’t have a job here much longer.” The housekeeper looked at me with pity, then clutched something in her pocket – her phone? – and scurried back towards the main house. Just then, a sleek Aston Martin pulled up to the front entrance. The first person out was Jessica’s fiancé, Brandon Prescott. He respectfully opened the back door. A man in his sixties, radiating authority and vitality despite his age, stepped out. Arthur Prescott. Jessica saw them and immediately switched gears, pressing a hand to her mouth in mock fragility. “See?” she whispered loudly to her friends. “That’s the father of my child. The sole Prescott heir.” Her friends oohed and aahed, showering her with more fake praise. She glided towards Brandon, pausing beside me to shoot me a venomous look. “You just wait,” she whispered. “Brandon won’t let you get away with this.” She practically collapsed into Brandon’s arms, dabbing at dry eyes. “Honey, you came just in time! They almost killed me and the baby!” Brandon’s chest puffed out. He glared around furiously. “Who dared touch you?” he roared. Jessica burrowed her head into his chest, a tiny, triumphant smile hidden from his view. She clutched her stomach, leaning heavily on him. “Brandon,” she whimpered, “my stomach hurts so much.” Her friends immediately pointed at me. “It was her! She pushed Jessica to the ground!” Brandon’s icy gaze fixed on me. He strode over and planted his foot firmly on my shoulder, pinning me down. “Who the hell gave you the nerve?” he growled. His presence was overwhelming, radiating power and menace. Behind him, the older Mr. Prescott tapped his cane impatiently on the ground. His voice was stern, commanding. “Brandon! What is this behavior? Right at the entrance?” Brandon shot me one last glare before reluctantly removing his foot. Jessica immediately turned to the grandfather, playing the victim again. “Grandpa, she almost killed your great-grandchild!” Mr. Prescott patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll make sure justice is served. But we have more important matters to attend to right now.” A strange feeling washed over me. I struggled to lift my head, meeting Mr. Prescott’s eyes. My voice was hoarse. “Did you invite me back here just so I could be publicly humiliated?” The moment the words left my mouth, Mr. Prescott’s cane slipped from his grasp and clattered onto the stone pathway. His face went slack with shock. He stumbled towards me, his body trembling. He knelt, peering closely at my bruised and bloody face. Then, he gasped and collapsed backward, sitting heavily on the ground. “M-Ma’am,” he stammered, his voice choked with disbelief. “Ma’am!” Brandon quickly picked up the cane and rushed to his grandfather’s side, helping him up. “Grandpa? What’s wrong?” Mr. Prescott snatched the cane back and, without warning, swung it hard against Brandon’s legs. Brandon yelped and buckled, falling to his knees right in front of me. “You blind fool!” the old man roared. Then, Arthur Prescott, head of the Prescott dynasty, bowed his head low before me, his shoulders shaking. Tears streamed down his face. “Ma’am,” he choked out, “it’s my failure… my failure in raising him… letting this animal hurt you… Punish me, Ma’am. Whatever you see fit… I won’t object…”

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My livestream got yanked. Again. And again. And again. My agent, Brenda, let out a long sigh over the phone. She told me not to worry about the stream for now, said she’d booked me a spot on a reality show. Oh, and Jessica Miller was going to be on it too. Brenda reminded me our statuses were worlds apart now and basically told me not to cause any trouble for her. Jessica Miller? You mean my dear “best friend” who stole my senior thesis project, flipped the script to frame me for plagiarism, and single-handedly nuked my acting career? Heh. How exactly should I act to make this long-overdue reunion truly memorable? 2 “Rural Roots” was the country’s first big “slow-living” reality show. The main goal was to showcase country life and boost the local economy. The meeting spot was the entrance to Harmony Creek village. I was the last one to arrive. As I got closer, I heard Jessica’s sickeningly sweet voice drifting over. “Please don’t be upset, sir,” she was cooing to someone. “Maya probably lives far away; I’m sure she didn’t mean to keep us all waiting.” There it was. That familiar tone. God, brings back memories. Before the other person could even respond, I beat her to the punch. “The call time set by the production team was 8:50 AM. It’s currently 8:25 AM. I arrived at the designated meeting point within the specified time. What exactly did I do wrong?” I paused, then added, “And ‘Maya’? Ms. Miller, are we pretending we’re close now?” Jessica choked on her words. She was so used to the usual Hollywood dance of fake niceties and backstabbing, she clearly didn’t expect me to just call her out directly. But, true to form, the professional two-face switched tactics instantly. She sidled up to me, eyes glistening like she was about to cry. “Maya, are you still mad at me? I… I just cared so much about my work back then, I couldn’t control myself, I just had to tell the truth…” She even tried to grab my hand, but I snatched it away. Beside her, some other male guest, Kevin something, shot me a dirty look. “Jessica, don’t blame yourself. It’s not like she has any right to be mad after plagiarizing.” Jessica kept up her act, pretending to “defend” me. I was about to let him have it when I saw my assistant behind the camera making a frantic throat-slitting gesture at me. Right. Keep it together for the cameras. Just then, a cool voice cut in. “When do we start filming in the village?” Someone nearby immediately scrambled. “Right away, right away.” A guy got out of a black SUV. Even with a baseball cap pulled low, you could tell he was seriously good-looking. He gave a curt nod to the group, a general greeting, and then just headed straight into the village. The camera operator assigned to him hurried to follow. I remembered my assistant briefing me last night – there was supposed to be a newly famous, award-winning actor on this shoot who wasn’t exactly Mr. Congeniality. Ethan Shi. That must’ve been him. 3 The first segment of the show was called “Honest Work.” Everyone had seen the production notes, but when we got to the actual location, we all just stood there, stunned. Before us stretched what looked like an ocean of green, endless fields of cornstalks reaching as far as the eye could see. Nothing but corn. Someone let out a groan. “Don’t tell me we have to harvest all this.” Instant drama for the cameras, perfect. While everyone else was taking in the “scenic view,” I turned to Jessica, lowered my voice, and smirked. “Dare you?” Jessica glared back at me. “Who’s afraid of who!” Before she could even process it, I grabbed her arm and dragged her right in front of the main camera. “Ms. Miller just challenged me to a corn-husking contest!” I announced brightly. “We need you all to be witnesses! We agreed that whoever loses has to wear pig ears and a nose for everyone to see. So please, keep us honest, folks!” Jessica finally realized she’d been played. The smile on her face nearly cracked, but she managed to keep her voice soft. “Maya, stop messing around.” She tried to pull her arm away, putting some force into it. Nice try. Like I’d let you break free after all those years of Taekwondo practice. The production team, loving the potential for drama and content, was more than happy to let us have our little competition. They even marked off two separate sections just for us. Normally, on these kinds of shows, the guests don’t have to do much real labor once the crew gets enough footage. Now, suddenly forced into this contest, Jessica didn’t show anything on camera, but behind the scenes, she shot me a few venomous looks. Pfft. Like looks could actually hurt me. The competition started mid-afternoon. We were decked out in full sun gear, heading into the cornfield under the blazing sun. Jessica quickly fell behind. Before long, I heard a cry from behind me. I turned just in time to witness Jessica’s dramatic collapse, like a delicate flower wilting to the ground. Everyone rushed over, and she was quickly whisked away to a local clinic or hospital. Suddenly, the filming location was almost empty, just a few scattered crew members left. I glanced towards the far end of the field. The A-list actor, Ethan, was either deaf or just completely unfazed. He was still husking corn, working away like a diligent old workhorse. The assistant director eventually said they had enough footage. I dusted myself off, waiting for the slightly-delayed movie star. We both ended up climbing onto an old farm truck. The thing clattered and banged down the dirt road for maybe fifty yards before sputtering to a stop. Out of gas. Of course. Resigned, Ethan and I hopped off the truck and started walking back towards the village, him slightly ahead, me trailing behind. I had no intention of striking up a conversation. But then he spoke first. “I really liked the princess.” “What?” I asked, confused. He paused for a few seconds. “The little princess from the fallen kingdom.” I froze. He was talking about the very first movie I ever did. I still remember the headlines after that film came out. “The most soulful young actress of the century.” “A natural talent blessed by the gods.” … But all of that vanished after the plagiarism scandal, like a drop of water falling into the ocean, gone without a trace. I leaned in closer to him, whispering, “You’re a huge star, Mr. Shi. We don’t really need to do the whole fake ‘mutual admiration’ thing, do we?” My sudden closeness must have startled him; he stumbled back. Instinctively, I grabbed his arm to steady him, but somehow, my momentum carried us both sideways, and we ended up stumbling right into a muddy patch beside the road. Seriously??? On the walk back, neither of us bothered bringing up our earlier topic. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn I detected a flicker of something like disappointment in Ethan’s expression. What did he have to be disappointed about? When we finally trudged back into the village, covered in mud, there was Jessica. Dressed in some kind of flowy, vaguely traditional-looking dress, sitting serenely in a little gazebo in the middle of the courtyard, sipping tea. Looking for all the world like a picture of perfect tranquility. Drinking tea, the little snake. Tsk tsk. “Ethan, did you fall?” Jessica gasped, immediately grabbing a towel from nearby and rushing over, intending to wipe the mud off him. Ethan sidestepped her smoothly. “No need. Give the towel to Maya.” And with that, he went straight into the house assigned to him. Jessica’s hand, holding the towel, hung awkwardly in mid-air for a few seconds before she remembered the cameras. She turned towards me, forcing a smile that was pure venom underneath. “You wouldn’t actually try to give me your towel, would you?” I muttered, keeping my voice low. Jessica leaned in close, her smile fixed, but her voice was ice. “A Z-list streamer who belongs to doing thirst traps online, now trying to climb the ladder on a reality show? Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking you can hook up with Ethan Shi and get back into acting? Let me warn you, Maya. Stay away from him! I ruined your reputation once, and I can make sure you rot in the gutter for good!” She finished her threat, then swept away, proud as a peacock. And there I stood, covered in mud, feeling like I was right back in that period after the thesis disaster. She had secretly deleted all the files related to my project from my computer, changing the dates. During rehearsals, she’d said she wanted to ‘surprise’ me. Then, the day before the final presentation, she claimed she was too nervous and asked if we could switch places, letting her go first. I agreed to everything. So, when the curtain rose on her performance, there were audible gasps from the audience. And Jessica, wearing an identical costume to mine, sat in the audience, wearing the exact same expression she had just now. Smug. Self-satisfied. Gloating. The department head was furious. My agency demanded to know why I was so stupid – plagiarism was one thing, but a direct copy-paste? Once the reporters published their stories, my career was effectively over. Nobody believed me. … If I wanted to actually hurt her, really do some damage, I couldn’t keep playing these harmless little pranks. I lifted my head and glanced towards the second floor of the main house. That was— Ethan Shi’s room. Stay away from him, she said? Heh. 4 I have trouble sleeping in strange beds. I woke up before dawn. Two nights in a row with bad sleep left me feeling completely drained and out of it. I peeked out the window. Nobody around. I snuck into the kitchen, found a small bag of oats, lit the wood stove, and filled a pot with water. Soon, the comforting smell of cooking oatmeal started to fill the air. I sat on the stool in front of the stove, letting out a satisfied yawn. A little while later, Ethan floated out like a ghost, sporting impressive bedhead and holding a bowl. “Mind if I grab some?” His look was a far cry from the cool, aloof movie star of yesterday. I smiled. “Of course.” We sat in silence for a bit. Just the sound of the oatmeal bubbling away. Ostensibly, I was watching the pot, but my peripheral vision was locked on the doorway. Right on cue, Jessica emerged, walking with that practiced gentle grace. When she saw Ethan and me sitting together by the stove, her composure almost slipped. “Oh, that smells wonderful!” she chirped, sliding smoothly into the space between us like she belonged there. “Can I have some too?” “No.” The blunt refusal came from Ethan. Jessica faltered, visibly surprised, and glanced at him. Ethan didn’t even look at her. After his one-word reply, his gaze was fixed intently on the oatmeal. Nicely done! Maybe this was what they meant by karma? Serves her right. 5 The first filming block ended at noon today. During the lull after breakfast, when everyone was just hanging around, I casually brought up the matter of the pig face punishment. Every pore on Jessica’s body screamed resistance. Her entire brand was built on being pure and beautiful. If footage of her looking ridiculous like that got out, who knew how many fans she’d lose. “But I fainted yesterday,” she protested weakly. “That doesn’t really count, does it?” “Fine by me,” I shrugged. “We can just go by the scores before you conveniently passed out. Doesn’t matter to me.” Kevin, the guy who’d defended her earlier, glared at me. “Maya, don’t push it.” I glared right back. “A bet’s a bet. You accept the challenge, you face the consequences. Simple as that.” Seeing that neither side was backing down, the production team, having gotten plenty of dramatic footage, decided to stir the pot further. “Alright, since there’s a disagreement, let’s settle this with an anonymous vote. We’ll see what everyone thinks.” Jessica gritted her teeth, clearly furious. She cast a pleading, doe-eyed look around at the male guests and crew members, the implication obvious. The final result showed that all her batting her eyes had been for nothing. 6 Everyone except Jessica voted for the pig face punishment. Kevin, the guy who’d just confronted me, had the grace to look embarrassed, scratching his head. “Uh, I thought about it… might be a funny contrast, you know?” Yeah, right. Funny contrast my ass. Jessica shot him daggers before storming off to the makeup trailer. She emerged nearly an hour and a half later. The moment she appeared, everyone burst out laughing. There she was, still in her flowy dress, her eye makeup impeccable, but sporting a huge prosthetic pig nose and floppy pig ears. Her cheeks were also padded out, making her face look round and puffy. You could still tell it was Jessica Miller. But simultaneously, she looked absolutely ridiculous. I guessed this final look was the result of some negotiation between Jessica and the makeup artist. She probably never dreamed the outcome would be this bad. … Once the segment wrapped, people started packing up and leaving in their assigned vehicles. My assistant had called last night; he got temporarily reassigned and would be late picking me up. Jessica was just about to get into her car when she saw me standing alone. Leaning against the open door, she said sweetly, “Maya, don’t you have an assistant? Need a ride back to the city? It’s really hard to get a cab out here.” Her eyes, however, were filled with pure, unadulterated glee at my apparent predicament. “She’s with me.” Ethan appeared seemingly out of nowhere, grabbed my suitcase from the courtyard, tossed it into the back of his SUV, and turned to me. “What are you waiting for? Didn’t you say you had something urgent back home?” I practically skipped over to Ethan’s SUV, leaned against the open passenger door, and beamed at Jessica. “Sorry, Ms. Miller, looks like I already have plans!” I deliberately made it sound suggestive and intriguing, then slammed the door shut. I immediately peeked back through the tinted window, watching Jessica’s reaction. Seeing her face twist with rage was deeply satisfying. I finally settled back into my seat. Only then did I remember the person sitting next to me. Ethan had clearly witnessed the entire exchange but didn’t call me out on my little performance. The car was already moving. He leaned back against the seat, holding a book with only a few pages left. The spine showed two words in elegant script: The Painted Veil He was sitting slightly turned, sunlight streaming through the window, catching the lines of his face, making him look almost ethereal. God, he had one of those unfairly handsome faces. “You like Maugham too?” I asked. Ethan nodded. He looked at me then, his gaze steady. “The line, ‘I knew you were second-rate, but I loved you.’ That one stuck with me.” It was only then I noticed that Ethan’s eyes were actually amber-colored. They had a strange, captivating quality. For a fleeting moment, I had the bizarre feeling that I was the ‘second-rate’ person he was talking about, and the ‘you’ in ‘I loved you’ was also me. Thankfully, he quickly looked back down at his book, missing the weird look that must have crossed my face. “Have you ever been in love?” he asked, not looking up. Uh. “I guess you could say that…” “‘Guess’?” I gave an awkward laugh. “Well, I’m not totally sure if it counts as ‘love.’ My deskmate back in middle school, this really sweet, kind of chubby kid. He used to bring me snacks every single day, all sorts of things. And each snack always had a little handwritten note with it – sometimes encouragement, sometimes math formulas. I’d never met a boy so genuinely kind. But then he transferred schools really suddenly… Anyway, first crushes, right? They usually fizzle out. It’s normal.” Just as I was talking, Ethan’s phone rang. He murmured an apology and answered it. Sounded like he was discussing AI voice simulation technology and audio conversion? Very technical terms I didn’t quite follow. Conveniently, my apartment building was just up ahead. I asked the driver to pull over. After thanking Ethan, I quickly got out and headed inside. …

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