Category: English

The year my son turned three, I overheard a conversation between my down-on-his-luck husband and my secretary. “Ethan, honey, if Seraphina ever found out you’re spoiling the kid rotten on purpose, just to ruin him, she’d probably have a heart attack, right?” “A heart attack? You underestimate her. If she discovered the truth, she’d kick me to the curb without a second thought.” “We need to keep this completely under wraps. Once she realizes her son is a lost cause, our little Mason can be ‘adopted’ by her, inherit everything!” I glanced at my own son, Daniel. Only three, yet they’d already fattened him up to sixty pounds. Pretending I hadn’t heard, I pushed another bite of cake into the little chubby boy’s mouth as he threw a tantrum on the floor. Twenty years later, my son Daniel was proficient in every vice – drinking, gambling, womanizing. He died violently in a street brawl. I let my husband rant about our son’s lack of filial piety, watched numbly as Ethan personally scattered Daniel’s ashes into the fish tank. Shortly after, he transferred all my company shares and assets to our ‘adopted’ son, Mason. At the share transfer meeting, Nicole, my secretary, clung to Ethan’s arm, holding a paternity test report. She presented it to me. “Seraphina, Mason is Ethan’s and my biological son. You’ve had him long enough. Now, it’s time to give him back.” I raised an eyebrow. “As you wish.” 1 “Honey, aren’t you flying to France for that project meeting today? Why haven’t you left yet?” Ethan Cole pushed the suitcase he’d meticulously packed for me, his voice laced with the usual concern. I looked at Daniel, already plump as a little piglet, and sighed. “Ethan, you’ve certainly made him… sturdy. But… being this overweight, won’t it stunt his growth?” Ethan gently draped my coat over my shoulders. “Don’t worry. I take Danny for check-ups every month. The doctor says he’s way ahead of his peers, strong as an ox. He’ll definitely hit six feet.” “You’re so busy, don’t stress about Daniel. I’d hate for you to get worn out,” he added, his eyes full of care. I met his gaze, smiled faintly, and said nothing. Ethan and I were childhood sweethearts. When his family lost their fortune, I married him without hesitation, ignoring everyone’s objections. Twenty-seven years, side-by-side. He knew my every like and dislike. He’d wait in line all day for a slice of cake I loved. He meticulously prepared gifts for every important occasion. He even bravely pushed me out of the way of a speeding car once. If I hadn’t come home early that one day and overheard his conversation with Nicole Ryan, his secretary… I would never have imagined, not in a million years, that the man sleeping beside me was plotting to steal my fortune and harm my child. “Auntie Nikki, you’re here! I want lots and lots of strawberry cake today! And I wanna watch JOJO!” The door opened, and Daniel bounced up excitedly, half-tumbling, half-crawling towards Nicole. Nicole scooped him up, expertly stuffing a large piece of cream-dripping cake into his mouth. “Eat up, little Danny, eat lots!” Then, Nicole suddenly noticed I was still home. Her smile froze instantly, a flash of panic crossing her face. Before she could speak, Ethan jumped in. “Honey, sometimes it’s just too much for me to handle Daniel alone. Besides you, there’s no one I trust. So, I asked Nicole to lend a hand occasionally.” Nicole quickly put Daniel down, nervously explaining, “Ms. Vance, I promise it doesn’t interfere with work. As soon as I help Mr. Cole out, I head straight back to the office.” Seeing her pale, pretty face, I couldn’t help but remember the day Daniel was born. Nicole had come to visit, held the baby, but in her ‘excitement,’ she dropped him. If not for the soft mat on the floor cushioning the fall, Daniel might have suffered brain damage. Back then, Nicole’s face had been just as pale. Seeing me silent now, Nicole looked about ready to cry. “Ms. Vance, please don’t be upset. I’ll head back to the office right now.” I chuckled, stopping her. “Don’t be silly. I’m too busy with work to manage him properly. If Daniel likes you, I should be thanking you.” “How about this: forget the office for now. Starting today, why don’t you stay here and help me take care of Daniel?” I paused, seeing the barely concealed excitement and joy flicker in both their eyes. “I know you’re highly educated, and being a nanny might feel beneath you. Tell you what, besides your regular salary, I’ll add an extra five thousand dollars a month.” Nicole’s smile nearly split her face, yet she managed a demure reply. “Ms. Vance, I’m happy to do anything for you. I… I’m just worried I won’t be a good enough caregiver for the young master.” I squeezed Daniel’s chubby arm. “Danny, do you like Auntie Nikki? Do you want her to take care of you?” Daniel nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, yes! I love Auntie Nikki the most!” As if afraid Daniel might say something revealing, Ethan quickly stuffed another piece of cake into his mouth. “Honey, thank you so much! With Nicole’s help, I’m sure Daniel will be even better taken care of.” Nicole quickly added her assurances: “Ms. Vance, please rest assured. I’ll treat Daniel like my own son, spoil him rotten.” Hearing this, Daniel beamed, pulling both of them towards the TV for cartoons. I glanced at the ‘family’ snuggled on the sofa. A knowing smile touched my lips as I wheeled my suitcase out the door. 2 2 Perhaps thinking I was too consumed by work to ever notice anything amiss with Daniel, Ethan and Nicole grew bolder. Before, Nicole could only sneak time with Ethan when things were slow at the office. Now, with the convenient arrangement of her living under my roof, sparks flew constantly between them. The living room, the kitchen, the balcony, even my bedroom—nearly every corner of that house bore traces of their liaisons. Their carelessness only snapped back into focus when Daniel, whom they’d started to ignore, let out a piercing shriek after being scalded by hot water. Only then did they scramble, pulling on clothes and dialing 911. Daniel spent a month in the hospital. Guilt-ridden, they became even more indulgent, catering to his every whim, feeding him endless fried chicken and cake. They even got him his own smartphone. I timed my return home perfectly one day to find a child, layers of fat jiggling, spewing curses at a game on his phone while sprawled on the sofa. Seeing my disappointed expression, Ethan rushed to placate me. “Honey, don’t worry. All kids get hooked on phone games these days. Once he matures a bit, understands things better, he’ll naturally grow out of it.” I snorted coldly. “My son is not comparable to children from ordinary families. He’s supposed to take over my company someday. This behavior is unacceptable!” At this, Nicole produced a pre-prepared video. “Ms. Vance, look, this is research I did. Ninety percent of families struggle with kids playing mobile games. But experts say it actually helps develop their intelligence!” “Look at Danny’s progress! He can even do some basic coding himself now!” I glanced at the screen, showing a simple program easily replicated by typing a few letters from a template someone else had clearly made. I nodded with feigned satisfaction. “It seems times really have changed. All I know is how to make money. Educating children… I suppose I’ll have to leave that to you two.” Seeing my smile, they exchanged a knowing glance, smirking inwardly. They laughed because they thought I was easy to fool. I laughed because they were utter fools. 3 3 Daniel’s college entrance exam results came back – a disaster. His scores were abysmal, barely enough to break triple digits if you added them all together. Playing my part, I staged a furious outburst at home. “Daniel! Did you take these exams with your backside? You could score higher just by randomly guessing C on everything!” Daniel, barely five feet tall but weighing nearly two hundred pounds, just kept his head down, engrossed in his game, ignoring me completely. “Mom, chill. We’re loaded, right? You can just buy me a degree somewhere.” “Besides,” he sneered, “only losers need diplomas. I’m gonna be the CEO. Who’d dare look down on me then?” Ethan shot me a look, then turned to Daniel with a pained expression. “Danny! How dare you speak to your mother like that? Apologize! And put the phone away when you’re talking to adults, understand?” Seeing Daniel still glued to his screen, I snatched the phone and threw it down the stairs. “Starting today, no more phone. I’m arranging for you to be sent abroad to study properly. Until then, you stay home, grounded. You’re not going anywhere.” To my surprise, Daniel exploded, shoving me hard. “You old witch! I don’t want you controlling me! The first thing I do when I take over the company is lock you up in a mental hospital!” Caught off guard, I stumbled back, hitting the corner of a cabinet sharply. I cried out in pain. Daniel just scoffed, “Stop faking it, Mom. It’d be better if you actually died.” With that, he stormed out. Nicole could barely contain her glee, quickly schooling her features into a concerned frown as she chased after him. “Ms. Vance, don’t worry, I’ll bring Danny back and make him apologize.” I stared sadly in the direction Daniel had run, murmuring, “Ethan, how did our sweet boy turn into this?” Ethan looked pained, hesitating before finally speaking. “Honey, it seems Daniel… might be a lost cause. Actually, for years, I’ve been quietly sponsoring a young man. He just got into Stanford this year. A very promising, good kid.” Meeting my questioning gaze, he continued, “He’s an orphan. Why don’t we adopt him as our son? Let him manage the company for Daniel in the future. That way, your years of hard work won’t go to waste.” Seeing the nervous anticipation on Ethan’s face, I pondered for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Alright. Maybe having some competition will give Daniel a sense of urgency, motivate him to shape up.” Mason Cole was soon brought before me and formally adopted, becoming Mason Vance. He was indeed brilliant, hardworking, and crucially, knew how to be respectful and navigate social situations. During his four years at Stanford, I diligently mentored him, familiarizing him with the company’s operations. Daniel, on the other hand, refused to repeat his exams or go abroad. He fell in with a rough crowd, spending his days drinking, fighting, and causing trouble. Eventually, I stopped even answering the frequent calls from the police station asking me to bail him out. I left all matters concerning Daniel for Ethan to handle. I focused instead on preparing a graduation gift for Mason. Ethan massaged my shoulders, his voice full of sympathy. “Honey, you’ve worked so hard all these years. Thankfully, Mason is about to graduate. He’ll be able to help you soon.” I leaned back tiredly in my chair. “Yes, finally. I can take a proper rest.” Ethan’s smile was strange, hinting at something more. “Yes, soon. Our family of three can finally, truly rest.” 4 4 On the day of Mason’s graduation from Stanford, Ethan dressed sharply and insisted I accompany him to celebrate. As we were leaving, Nicole fussed over us, repeatedly reminding Ethan, “Make sure to take lots of pictures for me!” Then, dabbing at non-existent tears, she explained to me, “I just want to see what a university graduation looks like… hoping one day our Danny will have such a proud moment too.” I frowned, annoyed. “Is Daniel out carousing again?” “Nicole, find him and bring him back. Tell him he’s grounded, confined to his room to think about his actions.” Later, as Mason stood on stage delivering his valedictorian speech, Ethan suddenly thrust his phone in front of me, trembling. “Honey, bad news! Daniel got into a fight, he’s been stabbed! They’re rushing him to the hospital now, we need to go!” I looked at the photo – a blurry image of an obese figure, a bloody mess. Disgust churned in my stomach. I placed a hand on Ethan’s arm, stopping him from rising. “Hmph. It’s probably just another scheme cooked up with his lowlife friends to scam money out of us. Ignore him.” “Mason’s speech is quite impressive,” I added coolly. “He has my flair from back in the day.” Ethan gave me a suspicious look, but seeing only genuine disdain for Daniel and admiration for Mason in my eyes, he seemed reassured and started clapping along with the audience. By the time Mason, Ethan, and I arrived home, laughing and talking, Daniel had been reduced to an urn of ashes on the coffee table. Nicole was sobbing uncontrollably. “Ms. Vance! Danny… he didn’t make it through surgery. He’s gone!” “After he died,” she wailed, “those thugs were threatening to desecrate his body! I had no choice, I was so scared, I had him cremated immediately!” Mason quickly steadied me as I pretended to swoon. Trembling, I asked, “How could this happen? What kind of trouble did he get into?” Nicole cried, “The police said he was trying to stage a fight to scam money from home, but they argued over the split, and things got violent… and then… then this happened.” I feigned fury, pointing at the urn. “Idiot! He was always an idiot!” Ethan looked at me with ‘concern’. “Honey, please don’t let this degenerate upset you so much. It’s not worth your health.” “Daniel was ungrateful! I’ll feed his ashes to the fish right now to vent your anger!” Seeing my cold indifference, my lack of objection, Nicole lunged forward as if to stop him. But somehow, perhaps intentionally, she stumbled as she got up, shoving Ethan hard from behind. Ethan lost his balance. The lid of the urn popped open, and the ashes scattered entirely into the large fish tank. The fish swarmed eagerly. Nicole, a manic glint of triumph in her eyes, turned to me. “Honey, are you satisfied now?” My gaze swept over Ethan, Nicole, and Mason, my eyes dark and deep. “Watching the son I despised being fed to the fish? Naturally, I’m extremely satisfied.” I sank onto the sofa, feigning weakness. “Mason, Mom only has you now. Thank goodness you’re so capable.” “Mom is tired. I’ve decided… I’m transferring all my company shares to you, right now.” Nicole covered her face, seemingly overwhelmed, and ran out. I ignored her, forcing myself to contact my legal team, instructing them to expedite the share transfer process. After the share transfer meeting concluded, while people were still lingering, Nicole made a grand entrance, dressed in a designer gown. Amidst the confused and surprised murmurs, she held up a paternity test report and announced loudly to me: “Seraphina Vance! Mason is actually Ethan’s and my biological son! You’ve kept them apart for so many years. Now, it’s time you returned him to me!” The room erupted in gasps and whispers. “Isn’t that Nicole Ryan? Ms. Vance valued her so much years ago, even moved her into her home… Talk about letting a wolf into the sheepfold!” “Showing up now to claim the son? It’s obviously about Ms. Vance’s money!” Amidst the condemnations, Ethan wrapped an arm around Nicole, speaking defiantly. “Most of you here are men. Ask yourselves honestly, could you accept your wife being away on business constantly, never home to take care of you?” “For years, it’s just been me, Nicole, and the boy in that house. We were already a family.” I remained silent, merely looking towards Mason who stood nearby. He walked over to stand beside Ethan and Nicole, then addressed me calmly. “Mom, if you just sign the divorce papers and let our family finally be together, I promise I’ll take care of you in the future.” “How about… you stay on as our housekeeper?” His words ignited outrage among the onlookers. “What kind of disgusting people are these? Ungrateful snakes! She just transferred billions to him, and he immediately turns around and insults her, offering her a job as a maid?” “I can’t watch this! Ms. Vance, don’t be afraid! We old-timers support you! Without us, Mason won’t find it easy to establish himself in this company!” People were defending me, indignant on my behalf, yet Ethan and Nicole looked calm, almost smug. As if they could handle any fallout. However, amidst the rising anger of the crowd, I offered a gentle smile. “Fine. I’ll sign.” Then, under everyone’s astonished gaze, I signed the divorce agreement. The trio – Ethan, Nicole, and Mason – looked at each other, eyebrows raised in disbelief, seemingly shocked I’d agreed so readily. They carefully inspected the documents, and confirming everything was in order, they smiled, relieved. Seeing their triumphant, smug expressions, the look of having won it all. I smiled too. “It’s rude not to return a gift. And I have a rather significant one for you.”

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Right after giving birth, my husband sent me off to recover at his old flame’s postpartum wellness center. What I didn’t know was that it was a shady, unlicensed joint. For a whole month, no visitors. The caregivers there either hit me or screamed at me, constantly mocking my post-baby body. Meanwhile, my husband, Ethan, was busy throwing a huge one-month celebration party for my baby with his precious Sophia. I saw it on TV. A luxurious ballroom, packed with guests. Ethan and Sophia stood center stage, looking like the perfect little family. When a reporter asked a question, Ethan looked at Sophia with such tenderness and pity, “You’ve worked so hard, honey.” Everyone gushed about what a power couple the CEO of Sterling Corp and his “wife” were. My mother-in-law, who always gave me the cold shoulder, beamed as she slipped the family heirloom bracelet onto Sophia’s wrist. Swallowing the blood and tears, I pulled out the cell phone I’d managed to hide under the mattress and called my brother, who was finally back in the country. “I need to get my baby back, Chris. And I’m going to make every single one of them pay!” … I was finally home, sipping some hot chicken soup, when Ethan and Sophia burst through the door with some people. Ethan was furious. “Maya, what the hell are you doing running around? Do you have any idea how worried Sophia was when she found out you disappeared from the center? She nearly lost her mind! And you’re just sitting here calmly drinking soup?” Sophia put on her best hurt expression. “Ethan, don’t blame Maya. Maybe she just missed home and left without telling anyone.” That just made Ethan angrier. “Sophia was kind enough to let you stay at her high-end center, arranged the best caregivers, the best nutritional meals, and this is how you thank her? Maya, you’re getting more and more ridiculous! Apologize to Sophia right now!” I let out a cold laugh. This was the man I once loved. Sending me to an unlicensed hellhole just for his old flame. The “best nutritional meals” he mentioned? Cold leftovers. Chicken soup with a thick layer of grease solidified on top, and a gnawed chicken bone sunk at the bottom! His “best caregivers” gave me cold water, took my phone, kept me locked up, and dished out beatings and verbal abuse daily. The more I remembered, the hotter the hatred burned inside me. But it wasn’t time to deal with them yet. I finished my soup and set the bowl down gently. “Where is my baby?” Ethan paced irritably, then rounded on me again. “Who are you giving that attitude to? “Didn’t I explain this already? Sophia lost her baby; she just wanted to borrow ours for a little while. She’s been through so much, what’s the big deal letting her have the baby for a bit? We can always have another one!” I sneered inwardly. Just like that, he casually talks about giving away the child I nearly died to bring into the world. I remembered when Ethan was chasing me, promising he’d always treat me right. My parents hadn’t approved of him back then, didn’t want us together. He actually knelt outside their door, swearing he wouldn’t marry anyone else. That’s what finally, reluctantly, convinced them. But the moment his old flame, Sophia, came back to the city, everything changed. I thought about the day I went into labor. I couldn’t reach him, no matter how many times I called. Complications arose, needing family consent for procedures. He was nowhere to be found. Shaking, I signed the critical condition forms myself. And where was he? His excuse later: “Sophia’s kid fell down the stairs and was in the ER! Can you stop being so dramatic?” Before I could even respond, he’d hung up violently. When I tried calling back, his phone was off. When I finally woke up, I found myself in some recovery center I’d never heard of, and the baby I’d endured a traumatic birth for was gone. My phone was missing. I couldn’t contact anyone. Panicked, I tried to run out to find my son, but the center’s staff grabbed me, dragged me back to the room, and literally tied me down. They fed me scraps. I was on the verge of a complete breakdown when I saw the news report about Ethan’s party on the TV in the corner. There he was, arm around Sophia, who was holding my baby. My mother-in-law personally placed the family bracelet on Sophia’s wrist, smiling and telling the cameras, “My daughter-in-law gave birth to a beautiful, healthy boy! She’s the hero of the Sterling family!” A happy family of four, perfect for the media. While I was tied up like an animal in that dark, hopeless place. 2 My hands, resting on my lap, clenched into fists. I looked Ethan straight in the eye. “Give me back my son, or I’m calling the cops. Tell them how you illegally confined me in an unlicensed facility just to steal my child!” Ethan’s face changed. Sophia burst into tears. “I’ve been a mother; I know how hard it is. That’s why I suggested Ethan let you stay at my recovery center. I never thought you’d see me this way, Maya. “I didn’t want to steal your baby, I just wanted to hold him… And since you couldn’t attend the one-month party during your recovery, I just went in your place to watch over him. I didn’t realize you’d misunderstand.” She sobbed pitifully, looking completely innocent. Ethan’s eyes filled with sympathy for her. He patted her back comfortingly. “You were just trying to help; it’s not your fault.” Then he turned to me impatiently. “Maya, don’t push your luck. Apologize to Sophia! And go back to the center quietly, or you’ll never see the baby again!” Without waiting for my reaction, he waved to the orderlies behind him, signaling them to take me away by force. Just as their rough hands grabbed me, pulling me up— My brother, Chris, walked in through the door. His gaze was ice-cold, his face stern. Behind him stood several tall, imposing bodyguards. “What do you think you’re doing to my sister?” A couple of bodyguards stepped forward, grabbed the orderlies, and slapped them hard across the face, again and again, until their cheeks were swollen. These were the same monsters who had abused me. Back then, I didn’t know the center belonged to Sophia. Treated like that, I thought maybe I was in some kind of psych ward. I begged them to let me call Ethan. They just laughed cruelly. “It was your husband and Ms. Sophia who put you in here. You think he’s going to come get you out?” My heart dropped. The C-section scar throbbed. Guessing they were deliberately sent to torture me, I snapped, “You’re assaulting a patient! That’s illegal! Aren’t you afraid of getting arrested?” Their tone was pure contempt. “We’ve been open for ages, taken in countless new moms. Nobody’s ever successfully reported us. Who the hell do you think you are?” “Just behave yourself in here, and we’ll take real good care of you!” They didn’t want to waste more words. Their faces turned menacing, their fingernails dirty black as they pressed down hard on my incision. The pain was blinding; blood slowly seeped from the wound. And at that exact moment, my husband was parading his love for his old flame in front of the media. … Ethan looked at my brother, visibly shaken. His expression flickered. Cautiously, he said, “Maya might have postpartum depression. I just wanted her to get some rest and treatment.” “Funny, I wasn’t aware my sister had PPD,” Chris scoffed. “You think the medical team at Lin Corp can’t compare to your little wellness center?” Ethan’s face finally drained of color. He whipped his head around to look at me, his voice dry. “Maya, the CEO of Lin Corp is your brother? Why didn’t you tell me?” I gave him a cold smile. “My brother was busy, he couldn’t make our wedding. I was planning a nice family dinner after the baby was born, get everyone together. Who knew you’d ship me off to that hellhole instead?” Back then, my parents had reluctantly agreed to let me be with Ethan, but they wanted to “observe” him longer. They told me not to reveal our family’s situation to him. So, he had no idea I was the sister of Chris Lin, CEO of Lin Corporation. Coincidentally, my grandfather got sick this year, so my parents went abroad with him for treatment. Chris was tied up with overseas business. That’s why, when I had complications during labor, Ethan was the only one I could turn to. 3 Ethan looked like he was about to crumble. I knew his company had been struggling recently. He’d been bending over backward, wining and dining one of my brother’s VPs, desperate to land a partnership project with Lin Corp. Chris casually draped a jacket over my shoulders, then turned to Ethan with a smirk. “You know, I was actually considering what my sister said the other day… giving your company the project, partnering up. Wasn’t out of the question. But seeing how you treat her…” Of course, Chris was bluffing. I wanted Ethan to taste hope, only to have it snatched away. A flicker of desperate hope crossed Ethan’s eyes, though he tried to maintain composure. He grabbed my hand, his tone reproachful. “Why didn’t you tell me something so important? “Sending you to the recovery center was for your own good! But if you didn’t like it, fine.” Every word was an excuse, shifting blame, completely ignoring the suffering I endured there. Seeing this, my brother barely contained his anger. “My sister suffered in that place,” he said contemptuously. “I won’t make things difficult. We’ll just follow the law. Report this center, get the person in charge and the abusers thrown in jail. Stop them from hurting anyone else.” Hearing this, Sophia finally panicked. She tugged at Ethan’s sleeve, crying, “Ethan, I didn’t know they’d treat Maya like that! I just wanted her to have the best care, I swear I didn’t know… “Maya, if you have to blame someone, blame me. Ethan didn’t know anything.” She cried so pitifully, looking every bit the innocent victim. Sophia was Ethan’s childhood neighbor, the girl he’d crushed on, the one that got away. Back then, she’d flirted with him but refused to commit, marrying some rich guy instead. But the rich guy’s family went bankrupt soon after. She got divorced and came back with her kid. From that moment on, Ethan started staying out all night. All she had to do was put on a damsel-in-distress act, mention her kid was sick and she didn’t know what to do. Ethan would drop everything, leave my side instantly, and rush to her. Meanwhile, I was heavily pregnant, going to prenatal checkups alone. When I had a fever, I had to call a ride-share myself. I had insisted on marrying Ethan against my parents’ wishes. Now I was reaping the bitter consequences, swallowing them alone. I didn’t want my parents to worry, so I always told them everything was fine when they called. I never imagined it would embolden them to escalate things this far. I laughed coldly. “One ‘I didn’t know’ and you wash your hands of it all? If apologies actually fixed anything, what would be the point of the police?” The air grew thick with tension. Chris helped me sit down at a table with some tea, watching Ethan and Sophia’s faces shift through various shades of panic. “You two should leave,” Chris said flatly. “You’re not welcome here. “And Ethan, forget about the business deal.” The next second, Ethan suddenly spun around and slapped Sophia hard across the face. “Who told you to treat my wife like that?” he roared. Sophia clutched her reddening cheek, eyes wide with disbelief. I almost laughed out loud. Wow, Ethan really was ruthless. Willing to strike his precious Sophia just to protect his interests. I remembered how, not long ago, Sophia had falsely accused me of burning her finger. Ethan had shoved me away so violently I hit my head, then forced me to apologize. He stayed away for days, saying he’d only come back and forgive me when I truly admitted I was wrong. I’d wanted to divorce him right then, but while getting my head wound treated at the hospital, I found out I was pregnant. When Ethan learned I was pregnant, he was ecstatic. He instantly reverted to the attentive man he used to be. I thought it was because of the baby, the responsibility of a new life, that he’d had a change of heart. Only later did I learn the truth. Sophia had complications giving birth to her daughter and had a hysterectomy. She could never have children again. And the baby I was carrying… tests had shown it was a boy. Ethan stood with his back to me; I couldn’t see his expression. Sophia was sobbing, kneeling before me. “I’m so sorry, Maya.” Ethan put on a guilty face. “Maya, Sophia didn’t mean it. We grew up together; I just look out for her a little more sometimes.” I remained unmoved. I knew exactly what Ethan felt, or didn’t feel, for his old flame. I just asked coldly, “Where is my son?” Ethan quickly replied, “He’s at our place, safe and sound.” 4 My brother and I rushed over to my mother-in-law’s place. As soon as she opened the door and saw me, her face soured, and she physically blocked the entrance. “What do you want?” Ever since I married Ethan, she’d disliked me. She thought her precious son, with his looks and supposed wealth, deserved a rich heiress, not an “ordinary” woman like me. (Never mind that when Ethan and I got together, his company was just starting, he was broke, and the gifts he bought me cost less than one of my typical meals.) Before, I put up with her attitude for the sake of family harmony. Now, talking to her felt like a waste of breath. I simply nodded to the bodyguards behind me. One guard took each of her arms and pulled her aside. My mother-in-law struggled violently, screaming. “Help! Someone’s breaking in to steal the baby! Ethan? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t let her take the baby—” “Mom! Maya and I are here to see the baby! Why are you blocking the door?” Ethan cut her off sharply. I gave a cold smile, ignoring their little performance. Pushing the door open, I saw my precious baby boy nestled in his bassinet, chewing on his little foot. Maybe it was a mother’s connection, but the moment he saw me, he broke into a wide, toothless grin. I covered my mouth, tears welling up, and rushed over to hold him. I’d only glimpsed him briefly after he was born before passing out from the pain and exhaustion. It had been almost two months, and this was the first time I truly held him. So soft, so small, this tiny being I carried for ten months. “It’s okay, little one,” I whispered, holding him close. “Mommy won’t let anyone take you away from me ever again.” I cuddled him gently, and he soon fell asleep in my arms. I carefully placed him back in the bassinet and instructed the bodyguards to take him out first. My mother-in-law panicked. “That’s my Sterling grandson! Where are you taking him, you bitch?” Ethan snapped impatiently, “Mom! Maya is his mother! What are you talking about? This isn’t your business; go back to your room!” My mother-in-law looked furious, her chest heaving, but she listened to him and left. Ethan gently put an arm around me. “See, Maya? Now you believe me, right?” I managed a smile. “Believe what? He’s my son, of course he is. But right now, the whole world thinks he’s Sophia’s child, that you two are the happy family.” Ethan rushed to reassure me. “That was all Sophia’s idea! She insisted on going. I only went along with it for the company’s image. “Come on, Maya, everything I do, all the hard work for the company, isn’t it all to give you and the baby a better life?” If I believed that load of crap, I really would be an idiot. But simply sending Sophia to jail wasn’t enough. I wanted her reputation utterly destroyed. And Ethan, the main culprit, had to face his own reckoning. After a moment’s thought, I said, “I want you to hold another party. A proper one. And in front of all the media, you will acknowledge me as your wife and the mother of our child. Everyone needs to know the truth.” Ethan readily promised. Before he could relax, I turned, looking at Sophia’s delicate, tear-streaked face, and added with a sweet smile: “Of course, Ms. Sophia wronged me significantly. She publicly tried to steal my husband and my child. So naturally, she also needs to publicly kneel and apologize to me. “Any objections, Ms. Sophia?” Sophia’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

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My grades tanked on the midterms, and I got kicked out of the Honors Program, dumped back into regular classes. My parents took a belt to me until I was covered in welts, then made me kneel in the living room until late at night. My genius older sister, Emily, called me an idiot. My pretty, artistic younger sister, Chloe, flaunted the love letter she got from Ethan—the guy I had a secret crush on. So, I gripped the fruit knife tightly and killed them both with my own hands. 1. All I ever dreamed of was my parents acknowledging me just once, praising me just once. But growing up, it never happened. Not even once. All because I had a genius older sister, Emily, and a pretty, artistic younger sister, Chloe. Even though we were triplets, I was the plain, awkward one. Every time I handed my parents a report card where I barely scraped by, trembling, they’d scowl, and then, without warning, a slap would land across my face. My ears would ring violently, but it didn’t stop their voices from cutting through: “You pig! Do you think I work my ass off just so you can embarrass me like this? Are you brain-dead?” “Why don’t you just go die!” My parents were obsessed with appearances. And I was just a constant source of embarrassment for them. My nightmare always began after family get-togethers. My aunts, uncles… the words spilling from their mouths were like a curse. “My little Susie got straight A’s again, top of her class!” “My Timmy’s doing great too, made class president.” “Our Jenny won an award at the Mathletes competition!” Every time, my mom’s face would darken, forcing a tight smile. She’d glare at me, huddled in the corner with my head down. “Our Ashley just can’t compare to those good kids. Bad grades, no common sense… just useless.” Back home, the moment my dad reached for his belt, I’d wet my pants in fear. While I screamed and tried to shield my head, my sisters, Emily and Chloe, would stand nearby, watching with blank expressions. Emily’s brilliance and Chloe’s outgoing nature weren’t enough to erase the stain my uselessness brought upon my parents. I still don’t know why. I just couldn’t grasp those complicated math symbols, couldn’t memorize vocabulary words, couldn’t understand dense texts. Just looking at a textbook made me tremble. 2. I sat on the floor, staring blankly at Emily lying in a pool of blood. She still wore her thick, black-framed glasses, her face frozen in terror, hands clutching her bleeding stomach. Ignoring the throbbing pain all over my body, I tried to drag her corpse under the bed. We triplets had the exact same face. As I pulled her, I felt disoriented. It was like I was the one lying there. Or maybe, like I had finally become Emily. Emily was the smart one. She could effortlessly get the grades that made Mom and Dad happy. She could solve math problems in seconds that I couldn’t figure out even if I stared at them all night. At home, she could do whatever she wanted. Never yelled at, never hit, never forced to kneel. But she never helped me either. She’d only whisper in my ear while I studied late into the night, “Ashley, stop trying. You’ll never get it. You’re just an idiot.” “No matter how hard you work, Mom and Dad will never approve of you. In their hearts, there’s only room for their brilliant daughter—me.” As if to prove her point, the next second, Dad would get up to use the bathroom, see my light still on, kick my door violently, and start cursing. “It’s this late, and you’re still wasting electricity! If you can’t get decent grades, I’ll beat you to death!” Emily would just give a soft chuckle, yawn, and climb into bed for a peaceful night’s sleep. Now, she lay on the floor, pale and breathless, unable to mock me ever again. The sensation of the knife sinking into her soft belly was strange. I didn’t feel scared, just a sort of grim satisfaction. With her dead, would Mom and Dad finally see me? Finally approve of me? Would they stop tearing up my report card when I improved by one rank? Stop ripping up my honor roll certificates? Stop throwing away the gifts I saved up to buy them? 3. Using all my strength, I shoved Emily’s body under the bed. Then I leaned against the bed frame, gasping for breath. Chills ran through me, making me shiver. It was so cold. Just like that winter freshman year when I failed English. Dad ripped off my winter coat and made me kneel on the balcony in just my thin clothes. It was snowing that day. I was freezing, collapsing onto the cold concrete. The snow landed on my swollen, red face. It felt cool, almost soothing. I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. That just made Dad angrier. He whipped me again, hard. “You stupid idiot! Your mother and I never amounted to anything, working dead-end jobs our whole lives. We pinned all our hopes on you, hoping you’d make something of yourself, make us proud! Why are you so damn dumb!” Emily and Chloe peeked out from behind Dad, making funny faces at me. I mumbled, “You still have them.” Dad kicked me again, harder this time. “Don’t change the subject! Talking back now, are you?!” A whimpering sound started. It wasn’t me; it was Mom. “Ashley! I eat leftovers every day ’til my stomach hurts, my hands are chapped and raw from washing your clothes, I walk everywhere instead of taking the bus, all to save money for your education! Why can’t you just try harder?” “Can’t you make your parents proud just once?” I looked towards where Emily’s body lay hidden and shook my head silently. There are so many naturally smart and talented people like her. Does only a child as brilliant as Emily deserve a parent’s love? Footsteps sounded outside the door. Mom and Dad! I held my breath, my heart pounding like it would burst out of my chest. “Is Ashley asleep?” “Looks like it. The light’s off.” “Sigh.” A heavy sigh, then silence returned outside the door. But that sigh felt like it crashed right into my heart. They must be so frustrated, so disappointed. I wanted to be the child they could be proud of. But… I just couldn’t do it. I could never be as perfect as Emily. Since I couldn’t become her, my only choice was to kill her. After shoving her under the bed, I let out a long breath. Emily, you must really regret coming in to mock me tonight after I got beaten, just like all the other times, right? I stumbled a few steps and tripped on something, nearly falling. Looking down, I saw a few paintbrushes. Nearby lay Chloe’s body. 4. I crouched down, reaching out to touch her cheek. I still couldn’t understand why, with the exact same face, she was considered prettier than me. Oh, right. She had that small beauty mark near the corner of her eyebrow, adding a playful charm. I really didn’t want to kill her. I liked her the most. She was pretty, cheerful, her eyes always bright, a smile always on her lips. What adult wouldn’t like her? Once, after finishing my homework, I secretly started drawing. Using a pencil, I sketched the world of my dreams. The lines and shades seemed to come alive, flowing and dancing on the page. I was lost in it when suddenly, Mom was standing behind me. I hadn’t even heard her come in. Her jaw clenched, she snatched my drawing, ripped it into shreds, grabbed my pencils, and threw them violently across the room. Then she dragged me up and called Dad. “Instead of studying, you’re messing around with this useless junk! Drawing? Can drawing put food on the table? If I catch you doing this again, I’ll break your hands!” As Dad smacked my palms with a ruler, Chloe skipped over, picked up my fallen pencils, her eyes sparkling as she examined them. After that day, Mom and Dad signed Chloe up for art classes. They didn’t pressure her about grades; they let her become an art student. I gritted my teeth and dragged Chloe’s body with all my might. The shiny fruit knife was still embedded in her stomach. As I pulled, a pink envelope fell out of her pocket. I picked it up, studying the envelope closely. This letter. This was what cost Chloe her life.

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I was in the hospital for my stomach problems, watching the live broadcast of my wife, Ava, winning the Breakthrough Artist Award on the TV. She was all smiles, talking about thanking the most important person in her journey. But there wasn’t a single mention of me. The camera panned to the audience, focusing on Ava’s childhood friend, Liam. A reporter asked what their relationship was. They stood silent. But the identical rings on their clasped hands sent the reporters into a frenzy of flashes. Finally, under the gaze of thousands, they shared an intimate, passionate kiss. I chuckled softly and typed a comment on the live stream. Wishing you happiness. 1 A sharp sting on my hand made me frown. The nurse was staring intently at my phone, only realizing I was looking when she flinched and hastily tended to my IV drip. “You’re a fan of them too! I absolutely love their CP! They’re such a rare real couple in show business!” The nurse chattered excitedly, pulling out her own phone to show me fan edits of Ava and Liam, the screen filled with well wishes that made my eyes ache. I scrolled through them, my heart aching too. January 20th, my birthday. Ava said she had work at the studio and couldn’t come home. Instead, she decorated an entire beach with flowers for Liam. March 16th, our wedding anniversary. Ava said she had a tight schedule. But she was photographed embracing Liam on a beach in Miami. June 5th, Ava’s birthday. I cooked a huge dinner. By the time the food went cold, she and Liam were sharing smiles in a recording studio. Every time she was absent from my life, she was present somewhere else, with him. The ache in my chest intensified, mirroring the churning pain in my stomach. My finger slipped, and the tablet screen landed on a reality show. It was a couples’ show. When the invitation first came, I’d worked overtime for a month straight just to clear my schedule so Ava and I could participate. But Ava dismissed it, saying it was boring, that her career was taking off, and appearing on it wouldn’t be good for her image. So I had to drop it. During that month of overtime, I saw the city skyline at 4 AM more times than I could count. But home was always dark, just me, alone, lonely. Yet, on that show, Ava had her arms wrapped around Liam’s neck, laughing loudly, saying, “Of course, you have to leave a light on for the one you love when they come home.” I took a deep breath, feeling the sharp pain in my gut, and sent Ava a text: “Let’s get a divorce.” On the live broadcast, Ava’s assistant quickly handed her the phone. 2: Dreams of the Past Ava frowned as she opened the message, her brow furrowing. She muttered under her breath, “Damn it,” then shut off the phone and tossed it back to her assistant. She seamlessly returned to the live broadcast, smiling sweetly as she held onto Liam’s arm. A curious reporter asked, “Ava, who was that message from? You didn’t look too happy.” Ava’s expression froze for a second, then she shook her head with a troubled look. “Just some overly enthusiastic fans. My assistant is handling it.” She leaned into Liam’s embrace. “We really hope everyone can be rational fans. I already have someone I love.” Liam stroked her hair affectionately. “Our Ava is just too popular. It’s making me feel insecure.” Ava snuggled against him, saying sweetly, “But my heart belongs only to Liam.” Liam looked down at her, and they shared a meaningful smile. My stomach twisted painfully. To help Ava win this Breakthrough Artist Award, I, someone unfamiliar with the entertainment industry, had busted my gut finding resources for her. She couldn’t sign with a good agency? I invested my own money, throwing cash at the problem until she got a contract with the best agency out there. Her acting wasn’t great? I begged veteran actors to mentor her while simultaneously sucking up to directors to get her more opportunities. Her temper was volatile? I hired the best PR firm to spin it as “straightforward and endearingly honest.” Even this stomach condition – I got it from being forced to drink excessively at business dinners while trying to secure those resources for her. I gave almost everything for her, but it seemed like she never saw any of it. The live broadcast continued, their sweet interactions drawing screams from the audience. I gasped from the pain, my hand trembling as I reached for the call button by the bed. Everyone was focused on them; no one cared about me, alone in this hospital bed. The room was filled only with the cheers from the broadcast. I tried desperately to control the pain, but then a line from the show echoed: “Ava loves Liam forever!” I whipped my head toward the screen. Amidst a shower of pink heart effects, Liam and Ava were locked in a tight embrace. They looked like they would never be parted. Amid the screams and blessings, the churning in my stomach became unbearable. I lost control, fell from the bed, and passed out. When I woke up again, Ava was sitting by my bedside, scrolling idly through her phone. 3: Pushing Too Far Seeing me awake, Ava tossed a file onto my chest, ordering, “Sign this.” My stomach still throbbed dully. I picked it up and almost laughed bitterly. It was an appointment letter. If signed, Liam would replace me as CEO of Sterling Corp. I pressed the call button for my assistant, asked him to bring me water, and help me sit up. “Is there nothing else you want to say to me?” I stared fixedly at Ava, unable to believe I had loved this person for five years. “Just sign it. I’m busy. I’ll leave once you’ve signed.” Perhaps seeing my lack of movement, Ava clicked her tongue impatiently. “Someone dug up an old interview where I mentioned my husband was the CEO of Sterling Corp.” “Things being what they are, I can’t let Liam be wronged. Just appoint Liam as CEO.” “Liam is innocent. It’s tragic enough he got dragged into our mess. Don’t make trouble.” I gave a cold laugh. “So, what you’re saying is, even though I’m your legal husband, to prevent your lover from feeling wronged, I need to hand over everything I own?” “Ava, how did I never notice before? Are you completely clueless?” Ava shot up from her chair, furious. “Ethan! What did you say!” “How dare you talk about Liam like that!” “Let me tell you, I’m famous now! I’m not someone an upstart like you can associate with! If you know what’s good for you, sign the papers. Otherwise, don’t blame me for playing rough!” I was livid, staring hard at Ava, about to say something more, when the door suddenly opened. Liam walked in carrying breakfast. “Ava, honey, I got you breakfast. You must have been exhausted last night.” They exchanged a knowing smile. Liam then acted as if he just noticed me. “Oh, Ethan, man, I’m so sorry. I forgot you were in the hospital with your stomach thing. Didn’t get you anything. Please don’t mind.” Ava rolled her eyes. “Mind? Why would he mind? Why should you have to serve him?” She threatened again, “Hurry up and sign this agreement!” Liam wrapped an arm around Ava’s waist, feigning embarrassment. “Ethan, really sorry about this. Ava just cares about me too much. She can’t stand seeing me suffer even a little, so you’ll have to take the hit, buddy.” “No need to be sorry. It’s not like I plan on taking any hits.” I snapped a few pictures of the agreement with my phone, then, to their utter shock, ripped it into pieces and threw the shreds in their faces. “I’m not signing this. You can leave now.” I closed my eyes, ready to dismiss them. Liam looked hurt, holding Ava’s hand. “Ava, maybe you should just tell everyone about Ethan. I’m really not good enough for you. You’re so amazing, and I have nothing. Only someone like Ethan, who has everything, deserves your love.” It was always like this. Whenever Liam wanted something from me, he’d claim he wasn’t good enough for Ava, and Ava would invariably hand over whatever he desired on a silver platter. This time was no different. Ava asked me coldly, “Last chance. Are you signing or not?” “Not signing.” I watched her calmly, curious to see what stunt she’d pull next. But Ava just turned and left. 4: Wife Escalates, My Counterattack Not long after Ava left, my assistant rushed into the room. “Mr. Sterling! This is bad! Mrs. Sterling is saying you coerced her!” The accusation was so absurd that I froze for a moment. Taking the assistant’s phone, I saw Ava had posted on social media, accusing me of essentially forcing her into a relationship using my power and wealth, making her my “kept woman.” That was why, she claimed, she’d said on the show her husband was the CEO of Sterling Corp. But then, she alleged, I cruelly discarded her for someone new, leaving her unable to cope, even developing depression. It was Liam, she claimed, who saved her, helping her slowly heal and embrace the world again. A complete reversal of truth, twisting facts. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. Who was this person I had loved all these years? Her audacity stemmed from one thing: she was convinced I loved her. Convinced I wouldn’t destroy her. Convinced I’d take all the blame. Convinced she could threaten me. But the moment she kissed Liam, that love died. Ava had just won the Breakthrough Artist Award the night before; her popularity was peaking. Major media outlets were reposting her social media blast. Even the company’s stock price was affected. I said calmly, “Release the marriage certificate. And everything about Ava’s history with the company, release it all.” Ava and I met in college. She wrote letters to me via campus mail for a year. We agreed to meet on a specific day. After we met, things progressed naturally – dating, marriage. In the early years of our marriage, I arranged for her to work at Sterling Corp. But she was spoiled and arrogant, using her status as the CEO’s wife to run wild, even leaking confidential company information. When discovered, she denied everything until the security footage was played. But back then, she cried, promising she’d change, her eyes filled with tears, looking at me helplessly, as if I were her entire world. How could I abandon her? So, I protected her. Later, she said she wanted to enter the entertainment industry, unwilling to be confined to domestic life. So I poured money and resources into launching her career. But she grew closer and closer to Liam, to the point where, unbeknownst to me, the public saw them as the couple. My eyes stung. Fighting back tears, I told my assistant, “Draft a divorce agreement.” Ava, this time, I’m letting you go. 5: Wife Refuses Reality, I Resolve to Leave After my assistant posted the marriage certificate and details of Ava leaking company secrets online, the situation exploded. The internet was buzzing, filled with condemnation for Ava: “So all that marketing was just the ‘true love’ story of an adulteress and her side piece.” “Using her husband’s resources only to slander him? What kind of new low is this?” But I wasn’t finished. I hired a top-tier PR firm, instructing them to use this incident to utterly ruin Ava’s reputation. Simultaneously, I reached an agreement with her entertainment agency to suspend all her activities, effectively blacklisting her. I didn’t forget about Liam either. Liam had been obscure since his debut until about two years ago when his luck suddenly changed, landing him a role on a reality show he wasn’t qualified for, which made him famous. I had my assistant investigate Liam, and sure enough, some interesting things surfaced. After handling all this, the suffocating pressure in my chest finally eased somewhat. But Ava stormed into my hospital room, furious. “Ethan! Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve caused me!” “How could you do this to me?” “I’ll give you one chance. Go public right now and say you made it all up. Otherwise, I’m divorcing you!” She ordered me around arrogantly. I just smiled faintly and had my assistant bring the drafted divorce agreement. “You want a divorce? Fine. Sign here.” Ava snatched the papers, glanced through them quickly, then threw them on the floor. “On what grounds are you demanding I leave with nothing!” Liam noticed Ava trembling slightly and quickly took her hand. “Ava, Ethan’s just angry. We were in the wrong this time.” “He’s just upset. If you just sweet-talk him a little, he’ll come around. Think about how much Ethan loves you! How could he possibly bear to treat you like this?” “Guys just need a little coaxing. Just smooth things over, and it’ll be fine.” Liam’s words seemed to restore Ava’s confidence. She scoffed, rolling her eyes at me. “You want me to bow down? Not in this lifetime!” “I’m a big star now! I won the Breakthrough Artist Award! But you, Ethan, you’re just some new money!” “If you know what’s good for you, apologize to me! Otherwise, we get divorced!” With that, she proudly swept out with Liam. Her sheer confidence left me with a headache. All my past sacrifices for her, what did they mean in her eyes? It wasn’t that she didn’t see them; she just didn’t care. She took everything for granted. She squandered it, wasted it. To her, I was just a fool, wasn’t I? Even now, she thought my actions, based on my past blind devotion, were just ploys to force an apology out of her. I sighed and called my assistant. “I recall the VIP rooms have security cameras, right?” “Yes, Mr. Sterling. What is it?” “Release the footage from the day Ava came here demanding I sign that appointment letter. And release the photos of the letter too.” Let’s see how confident they remain when facing utter ruin.

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It was the fifth year after my death. Ethan Lee, back home after eight years of peacekeeping duty overseas, had just stepped out of the airport terminal when I saw her—a young woman stopping him, handing him a small box. My ghostly form watched. “These were my sister’s things,” the girl said. “I think she would have wanted you to have them.” Ethan’s brow furrowed slightly, a faint, cynical smile playing on his lips. “If you’re returning things after a breakup, shouldn’t the person do it herself?” The girl froze, then tears welled up and slid down her cheeks. “My sister… she died. Five years ago.” 1 Instead of heading straight to his unit to report in, Ethan hailed a cab and gave the driver an address that sent a jolt through my spectral existence. “302 Oak Street.” That was the house I’d bought before… well, before. I drifted into the back seat with him. Three years earlier, Ethan, after five intense years in Yemen, had finally gotten approval for a short leave back home. I’d waited for him at the airport, wearing the same dress I wore when I first met him back in college. He was thinner, tanner, his features sharper, his gaze more intense. I ran to him, throwing my arms around him, hugging him so tight I could feel the rise and fall of his chest. I took him to 302 Oak Street. It was the house I’d poured all my savings into the moment I knew he was coming back. I stood on my toes, covering his eyes, wanting it to be a surprise. But his stifled chuckle ruined it. “You already knew?” I glared, confused. “Aren’t your friends my friends too?” He tossed his backpack onto the sofa, sat down, patted his lap, and pulled me onto his thighs. “I…” Whatever he was about to say got lost as I kissed him. That month or so flew by. We spent more time holed up together than going out. Even though I counted every single day, the month evaporated. I started to panic. So that night, I proposed to Ethan. I put on the white wedding dress I’d secretly bought, fussing with a slightly crooked veil. Moonlight streamed in as Ethan opened the door, bringing a chill from the night air with him. He stopped dead when he saw me. The coldness radiating off him made me shiver too. “I want to marry you,” I blurted out. “Then, legally, you’ll be mine.” I watched the familiar deep red slowly creep into his eyes – the eyes of the proud, cool guy who always seemed so detached from the world. Seeing him flustered like this, brought low by my proposal, gave me a secret thrill. He was mine now. Ethan pulled me into a tight embrace, burying his face in my neck. His warm breath sent shivers down my spine. “Are you really sure about this?” His voice was the same deep, sensual rumble I remembered. I nodded hard. Later that night, he pulled me onto the bed… Afterward, he produced a card from somewhere. “This is everything I have. I should have given it to you the day I got back.” I took the card gleefully, clutching it like a treasure. We planned to go get the marriage license the very next day. But just as we arrived at the courthouse, my work phone—silent for the entire month—suddenly rang. Everyone at the station knew I was on leave. Why would they call? After hesitating for a long moment, I stepped aside to answer. My editor’s tone was off. He said there was a decision from management, something important, and I absolutely had to come back to the station right away. I looked over at Ethan, waiting patiently. We were next in line. The phone felt heavy in my hand. Finally, I walked back to him. “Ethan, something came up at work. I think… I might have to go back.” He glanced at the line. He didn’t say anything, just gave a slow, lazy smile. “Okay.” The drive back was silent. His leave was almost over. I stifled a sigh and took his hand. “Is your flight tomorrow?” He nodded. “Wait for me tonight.” He smiled and nodded again. He dropped me off in front of the TV station. I waved goodbye with all my might. If I had known then that it was the last time I’d ever see him in this life, I think I would have held onto him much, much longer. 2 The taxi stopped, pulling my consciousness back to the present. I watched Ethan walk into the familiar apartment building. The ding of the elevator button sent a tremor through my soul, a sense that something I deeply feared was about to happen. Ethan stood outside the door to 302 for a long time, his shoulders slumped, his eyes downcast. It was freezing out, but he only wore a thin black hoodie, standing motionless like an ice sculpture. Slowly, he pulled a key from his pocket. The handle was worn smooth, clearly turned over and over in his hand countless times. He was about to unlock the door. I shook my head frantically, voicelessly. “No, don’t! Don’t open it…” I reached out to stop him, but my hand passed straight through his body. I couldn’t stop him. My spectral eyes burned red with terror. But then, mercifully, he stopped. His left hand rested on the doorframe. After a long moment, he withdrew the key. He tossed it casually, and the small silver thing landed, glinting, in the crack under the door. Then, he turned and walked away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. A dull ache started behind my eyes, a desire to cry that produced no tears. A thick fog seemed to roll in around me, making the air feel even colder. I followed Ethan back to his base, a special forces unit. After reporting in, he went silently to his dorm room. He didn’t have much luggage. He unpacked a few toiletries from his duffel bag, arranging them methodically. Something small fell to the floor. I drifted closer to see. Ethan was faster. He bent down, picked it up, and tossed it carelessly into a drawer. But I saw it in that split second. It was a photograph. In it, he and I were laughing, bright smiles on our faces, Starlight Amusement Park blurred in the background. I remembered that day. It was during his leave three years ago. I’d dragged him there, and we’d taken that picture. Except… this copy was torn into pieces, crudely taped back together. I watched him fall back into his routine. Training day after day, a highly disciplined life. He seemed to get along well with his comrades, his personality even seeming a bit lighter than before. I managed a faint, ghostly smile. That was good. At least one of us should be happy. One afternoon, after training, the gate guard called out to Ethan. Someone was there to see him. It was the third time this month someone had come asking for him. Everyone shot him knowing glances; a few guys even let out suggestive “Ooohs.” Ethan wiped the sweat from his brow with a towel. This time, he didn’t refuse the visitor. When he reached the gate, the warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by chips of ice. His expression was deliberately casual. “I thought I made it clear. If things need returning, tell Ava to bring them herself.” He must have called me frantically back then, countless calls going unanswered. He must have been so confused, so hurt. He probably chose to believe me, believe in me. Believed something unavoidable had kept me away. Then, months later, he finally got a message from me. It was short, just a few words, but each one must have felt like a knife twisting deeper. We’re done. I’m getting married. He’d wanted to come back immediately, but his peacekeeping mission was entering a critical phase. The battlefield had no room for personal drama. After a brief respite, he threw himself back into the fighting, surviving several near-death encounters. If he’d possessed even a shred of warmth before, after that message, he became pure steel – a sharpened blade, a cold weapon, freezing anyone who got too close. The young woman at the gate stubbornly held the box out to him, her eyes brimming with tears. “My sister… she really can’t come.” A breeze rustled the leaves. Ethan let out a humorless chuckle. “Ava was always like that. Does whatever she wants, never considers anyone else. Same then, same now.” I frowned, but a part of me had to agree. Looking back, I really had been awful to him. But I didn’t have a choice back then, did I? A wave of self-pity washed over me. My sister shook her head, tears tracing paths down her cheeks. “No, that’s not it. You’ve misunderstood my sister.” “Whatever she has to say, she can tell me herself. I have to get back to training.” He turned to leave. My sister rushed after him, but her voice was drowned out by a sudden blare – the signal for assembly. Ethan’s stride faltered for half a second. Did he hear something? Died? What died? He glanced back. The girl still stood there, clutching the box, watching him. He hesitated, wanting to stop, but the insistent call of the bugle urged him forward. 3 My sister left. She went off to college far away. With only her left, Mom and Dad followed her, leaving the city behind. I stayed by Ethan’s side, day after day. Watched him sleep on schedule, wake on schedule. On his occasional days off, he’d hang out with his buddies. Lately, though, it seemed like he’d started seeing someone. The past few weekends, he’d spent his time with this new girl. A dull ache settled in my chest. “Ethan, I want cotton candy,” the girl murmured, leaning against his chest as they sat on a bench at Starlight Amusement Park. Her voice was soft and sweet. Ethan stared off into the distance, lost in thought. It wasn’t until the girl prompted him a second time that he turned back, forcing a lazy smile. “Okay, I’ll go get some.” He walked over to the stand. “Two bunny-shaped cotton candies, please.” My dim, ghostly eyes lit up. Bunnies were my lucky charm; I had bunny things everywhere. He remembered! A wave of pure joy washed over me. But the next second, he changed his mind. “Actually, you know what? Just make them regular ones.” I let out a long, silent sigh. The girl ate her cotton candy, leaning comfortably against him. A bitter taste filled my non-existent mouth. The fog around me thickened, the air growing colder. The girl shivered, blowing on her hands. “It’s freezing.” I expected Ethan to offer her his jacket, but he just raised an eyebrow, his voice flat. “Let’s head back then.” A flicker of mean-spirited happiness sparked within me, immediately followed by guilt. Was I terrible for ruining his date? I followed him back to the base. It was already dark. Suddenly, my head swam, and something dark and red trickled down my forehead. I reached up—a ghostly hand covered in phantom blood. I paced frantically outside the bathroom door. Ethan had been in there for over an hour. Why wasn’t he coming out? A terrible premonition gripped me. I tried to push through the door, but I couldn’t! It was like hitting a solid wall. I beat against the door, a useless, frantic gesture. The world seemed eerily silent. The phantom blood flowed faster, coating me. In my panic and fear, my spectral hair seemed to lengthen wildly, my eyes burning red. The lights in the hallway flickered violently, casting eerie shadows. Someone noticed the strange lights and commotion, rushing towards Ethan’s room at top speed. But they didn’t check the bathroom! In desperation, I focused all my energy, and the lightbulb directly outside the bathroom door shattered with a pop. The soldiers nearby jumped, nearly crying out. But in the sudden quiet, they heard it – the faint, persistent sound of running water from inside the bathroom. When they finally forced the door open, they found Ethan collapsed on the floor, his face deathly pale. He was rushed to the hospital. The doctors diagnosed it as complications from old injuries – internal pressure causing him to pass out. I hovered over his hospital bed, watching him sleep. His face was still the same one I remembered, but his body… scars, large and small, littered his skin. It hurt just looking at them, a deep ache that made me wish I could take his pain onto myself. The wind howled outside. I stood beside him, tracing the lines of his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose with an intangible finger. He frowned in his sleep. I sighed again. “Not even peaceful in your dreams, huh? Maybe I should stay away. Maybe if I left, you wouldn’t have such bad luck.” I watched over him for two days and three nights. On the third day, a crowd of his buddies came to visit, hearing he was awake. One of them held a box. “This came for you at the mailroom this morning. Figured I’d bring it over.” The guys started teasing him, but Ethan just tossed the box aside without looking at it. It landed haphazardly under the bed. He stayed in the hospital for three days. As he was leaving, he walked out the door without a backward glance. A young nurse hurried after him, pressing the box back into his hands. Ethan gave a small, humorless smile. He got on the bus, and then, as if finally making a decision, he opened the box. Inside, there wasn’t much. A few notebooks, a couple of small jars, and a letter. He opened one of the notebooks. The first few pages were filled with my notes from college classes. But further in, the subject slowly shifted to him. Page after page detailed the small moments we shared. Our first university welcome party together, the first time our eyes met, the first time we skipped class to see a movie, the first time we got drunk together, the first concert, rescuing that stray kitten, dreaming about the future together… “Ethan, what do you want to do after graduation?” We were lying on the grass in our caps and gowns, looking up at the bright blue sky. He held my hand, his voice quiet but firm. “I want to join the peacekeeping forces. Follow in my father’s footsteps.” My eyes shone. “And I want to be a journalist,” I’d added. “We’ll both be doing something good for people.” Wind gusted through the open bus window, flipping the pages in his hands. “I was supposed to get the license with you. Why did work have to call right then? Ethan, I miss you so much. You better not be looking at other girls, not even a glance. Wait for me, okay?…” Beside the text, I’d drawn a little cartoon of a stern-faced guy with a buzz cut. “Ethan, I have to go soon. You didn’t answer my calls. Are things really busy over there? Remember to eat properly and dress warmly.” “…” It seemed like I was rushed towards the end. The entries got shorter, more fragmented. The last one was just a single sentence. “The station gave me the assignment. I have to go to the border zone. Ethan, if I make it back alive, I swear I’ll hunt you down and marry you. If I die… this stuff is yours.” The date was the day after he had left, three years ago.

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After Dad died, Mom got a big settlement check. But I never knew where it went. She didn’t buy me clothes, even took out high-interest loans, and would haggle over fifty cents at the grocery store. She wasn’t very nice to me. Didn’t let me have friends, locked me in the house at night, never smiled at me. Then, I died. … I died, and my soul floated in the air. I looked down in disgust at my own half-naked body being pulled from the water. Bloated and pale, it was truly ugly. I couldn’t stand it there. It was so cold. As if guided, my spirit started drifting, slowly, towards home. It was the same familiar small town. Just as I drifted into the main street, I saw Mom. She looked much older than other women her age, her cheeks lined with dry wrinkles, streaks of white at her temples. Mom had gotten so thin these past couple of years, often with bruises on her face. I never knew where she got them. Right now, she was arguing with the old lady who ran the vegetable stand. “These greens aren’t even fresh, nobody’s gonna want ’em. How about you just give ’em all to me for two bucks!” Mom frowned, looking like she was doing the lady a favor by taking them off her hands, but her grip on that bunch of collards was tight. “No way! I’d lose my shirt sellin’ ’em to you for that!” the stand owner snapped back, getting flustered. “Why not? C’mon, knock off fifty cents, and I’ll buy a bit more.” … She was always doing things that annoyed me! What was the point of fighting over a few dollars’ worth of vegetables? Look at her, couldn’t win the argument, so now she’s resorting to insults. She never finished school, so she always had a sharp tongue, could argue someone into knots. Whenever she won one of these fights, she’d be happy all day. She also used to pick up discarded vegetable leaves people didn’t want, ignoring the dirty looks she got. That’s why nobody in town really liked Mom. They all said she was stingy, hard to get along with. When did it start? I thought back hard. Oh, right! Ever since Dad died, Mom was like a different person. She became fierce, foul-mouthed, ready to pick a fight with anyone over anything. Everyone said Mom had jinxed Dad, brought him bad luck that killed him. Even Grandma said so. So, I didn’t like my mom. She made me lose my dad. Because of her, kids in town used to make fun of me when I was little. They all said I was the kid with no dad, and a widow mom who’d caused his death. It hurt so much, I’d run home crying. When Mom saw me, she’d give me a cold stare and scold me: “They say that stuff, don’t you know how to talk back? All you do is cry!” Then, like a cornered animal, she’d grab a kitchen knife and storm over to their house, yelling and cursing. The things she said were awful, loud enough for half the town to hear. After that, I was completely alone. No kids wanted to play with me. I hated Mom. Not only did she cost me my dad, but she cost me my friends too. She had so many bad habits, always arguing everywhere. It drove me crazy and made me a little scared of her. After a while, I got used to it. Mom was always serious. Even when I was sick, she wouldn’t coddle me. She’d hold my hand, and though it was warm, the rough calluses made me flinch. She’d look at me with a sneer, “Useless thing. What’s there to be scared of with a little sickness? It won’t kill you.” At that moment, I felt like the most pitiful kid in the world. No dad, and a mom who didn’t seem to care. At least it forced me to become independent. Later, I started school. Whenever there was a parent-teacher conference, Mom always showed up, ready to embarrass me. Other moms weren’t exactly glamorous, but at least they looked neat. But my mom, always dusty and disheveled, like she’d just crawled out of somewhere. She never bothered to clean herself up. After a while, I stopped telling her about the conferences. When the teacher asked, I’d say she was busy. But somehow, Mom always found out and showed up right at the last minute! And she had to make a scene, standing in the doorway in her dirt-stained clothes, waving at me in front of the whole class, making me want to disappear. Back then, I never stopped to think about what Mom was doing, why she was always dirty. My young self just couldn’t understand. Why did I have a mother like this? Always doing things that made me ashamed. Maybe she just didn’t care about me at all, so she acted however she wanted. I always envied other kids whose moms could give them some sense of normalcy, of decency. Me? I had nothing. Nothing but a cage… 2 Mom was also incredibly controlling. She even interfered with my friends. Anytime I got close to a classmate, she insisted I bring them home for her inspection. And after meeting them, she’d purse her lips, unsatisfied. She always said I was making friends with “bad influences,” that I needed to cut them off. I scoffed inwardly. What did someone who never went to school know about good friends?! If I wanted to go out at night, she’d strictly forbid it, locking me inside. Then she’d grab her bag and hurry out herself. She never explained where she was going, and I wasn’t curious. Through the window, I’d silently watch the other kids playing outside in the evening, envious. They had that happiness. I didn’t. When I got to high school, my features started to blossom. People on the street would comment on how pretty I was becoming, which made me secretly happy. Gradually, I started caring about how I looked. I begged Mom to buy me nice clothes, but she always bought the plainest things. So frumpy, it made me cringe. But she didn’t see it. She stubbornly believed those clothes suited me. She also constantly lectured me about studying hard. “You’re a student. What do you need to dress up so fancy for? There are creeps out there. You need to focus on your studies.” Other girls dressed up nicely, but I mostly just wore my plain clothes or whatever was required for school. Because I was afraid people would laugh at the ugly clothes Mom bought. That teenage pride. Because of Mom, my insecurity started early. I knew we weren’t rich, but we should have had enough for basics, right? Maybe Mom wanted me to be looked down on, just like her. After all, she was disliked everywhere she went. But I didn’t want that. Whenever Mom and I went out together, I never walked too close to her, afraid someone would realize she was my mother. Sometimes, Mom would try to take my arm, and I’d always frown and push her hand away. Mom’s presence felt like a heavy weight constantly pressing down on me. I just wanted to grow up fast, get away, far, far away from her. During school, my good grades and looks earned me the appreciation of teachers. But because I didn’t talk much with classmates, I was isolated again. Mom knew nothing about this. She left early and came home late every day. Probably working, I assumed, though I never knew what she did. If I had understood then, maybe I wouldn’t have… Mom had a reputation for being fierce. Although she never hit me, she wasn’t gentle either. She rarely smiled at me. She was always sternly telling me I had to get into a top college! Maybe my excellent grades were just something for her to brag about. She was so selfish! My life was nothing but studying, studying, studying. Mom controlled me. I felt like a bird she kept caged, unable to spread my wings. She got her wish, though. I scored in the top ten in the state on the college entrance exams, got amazing scores. But I wasn’t particularly happy. My mom, however, must have been ecstatic. Look, there she is now, finished haggling for vegetables, already bragging to the neighbors about my scores. “My daughter, she’s gonna be the one to fly out of this town and make something of herself, hahaha!” Her grin nearly reached her ears. Looks like my homeroom teacher already called her. I’d never seen her look so happy. Was getting into a top college really that big a deal? Later, I would find out. It truly was her lifelong dream. 3 My soul felt tethered to Mom, drifting wherever she went. We were back home now. Everything in the house was the same, filled with the familiar smells of everyday life. Mom’s sallow face was full of joy as she eagerly cooked dinner. It was the same old meal: rice, collard greens, and fried pork chops. I was so sick of it I could puke, but she always made it, tirelessly. Then she went into her room and brought out a bag. Inside seemed to be a box. She placed the bag carefully on the table. What was it? Was it for me? I was a little curious. Mom looked at the clock on the wall, then stood by the door, waiting for me. She waited for a long, long time, until the sun began to set. She rubbed her aching lower back, starting to mutter, “Why isn’t that girl home yet? The food’s getting cold.” Oh, right. She didn’t know I was dead. She would never see me again. I was finally free. After a little longer, Mom’s face started showing real anxiety. Like an ant on a hot pan, she paced back and forth by the door. Then suddenly, she slammed the door shut and rushed outside. My soul flew along with Mom’s figure through the air. The weather was getting colder, the air biting. Mom didn’t seem to feel it, rushing through the town, yelling my name. Some neighbors heard the noise and peeked out, saw it was my mom, and shut their doors again. Makes sense. Nobody liked Mom, why would they help her look for me? The whole town echoed with Mom’s calls, her voice filled with worry and panic. I desperately waved at her. I’m here, right here! But she couldn’t hear or see me. I could only watch helplessly as she ran out of town, heading towards the school. Her shadow stretched long under the streetlights. Mom was so short, so small. All these years, she’d been like this intimidating force, giving me the illusion she was tall and imposing. Mom searched all the way from the school to the bus stop, but there was no sign of me. She got even more frantic, mostly just lost and unsure what to do. I’d never seen such panic on her face. Growing up, my image of her was always arrogant, bossy, supremely confident. Even though it was winter, beads of sweat covered her forehead, trickling down her cheeks. I wanted to wipe the sweat away for her, but I couldn’t touch her. Stop looking. I’m already dead. I said silently in my heart. Just then, a phone rang. Mom pulled an old flip phone from her faded jeans pocket. I scoffed silently. That phone was at least ten years old, and she still wouldn’t replace it. So cheap! After answering the call, I saw her face turn deathly white, whiter than my own dead face. She swayed, her whole body trembling, leaning against a railing just to stay upright. Then, the phone slipped from her hand and hit the ground, automatically switching to speakerphone. “Linda? Mrs. Hayes? Are you listening? You need to come to the riverbank. They found a girl’s body… they think it might be Chloe…” It was my homeroom teacher’s voice. So Mom knew. She knew I was dead. Suddenly, I didn’t dare… I didn’t dare look at my mom’s expression. If she found out how I died. She’d be furious, wouldn’t she? 4 Dark, heavy clouds pressed down on the sky, making the whole world feel hushed and suffocating. Then, a light drizzle began to fall. The wind howled, chilling me to the bone. Mom practically dragged herself to the riverbank. By now, my body was surrounded by yellow police tape, and a crowd had gathered outside the perimeter. Mom stood on her tiptoes at the edge, peering in. When she saw my body, I clearly saw her stumble back. Then she abruptly lowered her head, fists clenched, trembling slightly. Rainwater streamed down her thin jawline. After a long moment, Mom finally lifted her head. Her eyes looked a little red. It was dark out. It must have been my imagination. Mom was so strong, how could she cry? I heard people in the crowd whispering beside me. “What happened here? Suicide?” “Maybe murder, you think?” “Nah, you guys got it wrong. Heard when they pulled her out, she wasn’t wearing pants. Definitely raped and then drowned.” … I had to admit, that last spectator hit the nail on the head. That’s exactly how I died. I had no future left. Mom looked up, staring intently at my body for a while. Suddenly, she started shaking her head, backing away, muttering: “No, no, that’s not my daughter! My daughter’s waiting at home for me to cook dinner, I need to get back…” With that, she turned and stumbled away, disappearing into the rain. I was a bit speechless. My face was bloated from the water, but surely she could still recognize me? Mom ran all the way home, bursting through the door. Inside the house, she paced frantically, calling my name, her only answer the empty air. She collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. Only then did I notice the food on the table hadn’t been touched. Mom, she must still be hungry. So foolish. I floated over to her, helplessly whispering in her ear, “Mom, I’m really dead. Stop waiting for me.” Late that night, Mom sat at my desk. She carefully took a photograph out of her pocket. That photo… I drifted closer, looking carefully. It was a picture of Mom and me. It had been torn up and taped back together. How did it get torn? I shook my head, trying to remember. Oh, right! When I was little, blaming Mom for Dad’s death, I tore up the only photo we had together. She actually kept it. Mom really was frugal and sentimental, wouldn’t even throw away a torn photo. I pursed my lips. Her dry, wrinkled hand stroked the image of little me in the photo, over and over again. Mom, when she was young, she used to be so pretty too. Why did she look so worn down now? After a moment, she took out that bag again. And I finally knew what was inside. It was an iPhone. So, Mom remembered. I had mentioned wanting an iPhone a few times. Mom had looked pained then, saying she didn’t have enough money. At the time, I thought she was just being cheap. A faint, unidentifiable emotion stirred in my chest. I had misunderstood her. Mom stroked the photo, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it: “Mommy bought you your favorite gift. Why aren’t you home yet?” As she said this, I heard a soft “plink.” It was a tear.

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I’m a murderer. The kind the cops will never find. Because I can jump between places. Spaces. Create the perfect alibi, every single time. I killed one person after another. Right up until I killed the person I loved most. 1. I figured out I could do this back in middle school. It was a bright, sunny morning. I remember it clearly because I’d pulled an all-nighter doing homework the day before. I was totally groggy. Same routine as always. Ate breakfast, said bye to Mom, started walking to school. The little trees lining the street had new buds on their branches. I’d just reached the intersection when this huge semi-truck came barreling towards me, horn blasting. I just froze, completely stunned, only had time to throw my hands up in front of my face. There was this moment of silence, except it wasn’t that long, just filled with the screech of brakes. But the pain I was braced for never came. I slowly cracked my eyes open… and I was standing on the other side of the street. I looked back. There was a woman lying in the middle of the road. Looked like she’d just come from the farmer’s market, groceries scattered everywhere. She was… flattened. Brains splattered on the pavement. The truck driver scrambled out of his cab, saw the mess, and just bolted. Ran off like his life depended on it. A crowd started gathering, people shouting, a mess of noise. But nobody questioned how I got across the street. For a second, I thought maybe my memory was screwed up. Still reeling from the shock, all I could think was, Man, I wish I was home right now. Just thought it. And boom, the scene shifted. I was back in my house. I just stood there, stunned. But I knew, instantly. I tested it. Pictured the school cafeteria. Five seconds later, I opened my eyes, and I was standing right there. 2 After figuring out I could teleport, I didn’t tell a soul. I had no idea how people would react. Would they think I was awesome? Or crazy? Or maybe something to be dissected in a lab? Telling anyone felt way too risky. A risk I couldn’t afford to take. At first, the power was just convenient. Meant I could sleep in and never be late for school. Simple stuff. But that all changed when Madison showed up. Her arrival completely derailed my life. Madison was in my grade when I started high school. Her family had serious money. When we first met, she wasn’t exactly nice to me, but she wasn’t outright horrible either. Tolerable, I guess. Maybe it’s some twisted rich-kid thing, I don’t know, but she loved picking on this one girl in our class, Hannah. Hannah came from a poor family, always carried this faded, washed-out backpack. She was quiet, kind of withdrawn, didn’t really have any friends. Every time Madison passed Hannah’s desk, she’d say something nasty, like, “Ugh, what’s that smell?” Just humiliating stuff like that. At first, it was just words. But I guess that got boring for Madison, because it escalated. Turned into physical torment. Madison started spreading slut-shaming rumors about Hannah, started hitting her, kicking her. Hannah constantly had bruises and cuts, all over her face, her arms. Scumbags from outside school would corner her, leer at her with these disgusting looks, asking how much for a night. Her textbooks would vanish from her desk. Then she’d find dead mice in there, or just trash. Someone would scrawl “SLUT” on her desk. People treated her like a garbage can, tossing their trash at her. She’d come in with clean hair, and someone would stick gum in it. They’d say her face was dirty and shove her head in the toilet bowl “to wash it.” Telling a teacher was useless. Madison’s family was too influential. The teachers couldn’t afford to piss them off, so they just looked the other way. How do I know all this so clearly? Because later, I went through the exact same thing. It happened because Hannah killed herself. It was sophomore year, during evening English study hall. I was bored out of my mind, just spinning a black pen in my hand, half-asleep listening to the teacher drone on. Suddenly, I heard a desk scraping loud in the back of the room. Before I could even process what was happening, someone yelled— “Hannah killed herself! She jumped!” Yeah, her name was Hannah. A name full of hope for a peaceful, healthy life. Everything erupted into chaos. I looked back, stunned. Hannah’s seat was empty. The English teacher was yelling for everyone to be quiet, call 911. But I couldn’t hear anything clearly. Just one phrase cut through the noise, straight into my brain. “So much blood.” 3 Hannah didn’t make it. For her, I guess it was a release. Living was worse, right? Because of all the cuts and bruises on her body, marks that hadn’t healed, the police suspected she’d been abused before she died. A bunch of cops descended on our school to investigate. Everyone in our class was pulled into small rooms, one by one, for questioning. I thought Madison would be scared. But that morning, she actually showed me a video of Hannah being sexually assaulted, like she was bragging. Smiled while she told me, “I just wanted to film her, you know? Who knew she was so fragile she’d actually kill herself over it? Shame, really. Guess this is her final portrait now.” I knew Madison was cruel, but I hadn’t grasped the depths of it. Or how utterly brazen she was. She was like a demon crawled straight out of hell, filled with unspeakable evil. When they took me into the little room, the cop across from me flipped through his notes. “No need to be nervous,” he said. “Just tell us what you know. We’re just investigating the circumstances of Hannah’s death.” In that instant, for some reason, I thought of Hannah’s faded white backpack. I swear, I’ve regretted it countless times since. Why did I have to think of that backpack? Why did it stir that tiny flicker of pity in me? Why was I trying to be good in that moment? It was the stupidest I’ve ever been. Because I told them everything Madison had done. I thought I wouldn’t see Madison at school again. I thought the cops would take her in, especially with the video on her phone as solid proof. But I underestimated the power of money. The next morning, I’d just put my backpack down and sat in my chair when Madison appeared beside me. She leaned in close, whispering right in my ear, “You really disappointed me.” Yeah. You never know how much it hurts until the knife cuts you. It was like Madison couldn’t function without tormenting someone. Her target shifted from Hannah to me. My books started disappearing. Friends I thought were close suddenly kept their distance. Bugs started showing up in my lunch. Madison and her little clique cornered me in the girls’ bathroom. While they were ripping at my clothes, Madison pressed the lit end of a cigarette—one she’d smoked halfway down—onto my arm. Again and again. “You like playing hero, right?” she hissed, grinding it in. “Go on! Stand up and be the hero now!” I glared at her, pure hatred boiling inside me. And a terrifying thought surfaced. I actually can play the hero. I knew Madison’s crew liked to hang out at this specific bar on Saturday nights. I’d even been there once. It was shady, lots of illegal stuff going down, so a lot of the security cameras didn’t work or were conveniently “broken.” That Saturday, I asked my teacher if I could stay late at school to study. Maybe because she felt bad about what I’d been going through, she sighed and said yes. I sat in the empty classroom, my pen moving over math problems, but my mind was racing, plotting how to kill Madison without leaving a trace. I stayed there, staring blankly, until ten PM. Then I walked out of the classroom and went to the bathroom – the one spot on campus with no cameras. I put on a mask, gloves, plastic shoe covers. Over my clothes, I pulled on a disposable raincoat. I pictured Madison’s location, the bar bathroom. In an instant, I was there. Pure luck. Madison was inside, humming to herself while washing her hands at the sink. I appeared silently behind her. Grabbed her, clamped one hand tight over her mouth, muffling her scream. With the other hand, I pulled out the knife I’d prepared – one I’d stolen from her main lackey earlier – and plunged it into her chest. Again. And again. A part of me felt it wasn’t fair. I should have tortured her, made her beg for death. But I didn’t have much time. I just needed to make sure she was dead. Completely dead. I let go. Watched her crumple to the floor, her eyes wide, staring right at me. “Madison,” I whispered, “you were always too arrogant. Turns out, I can deliver justice.” Then I vanished. Left nothing behind but the knife clattering on the tile. The knife belonging to her follower. I didn’t go back to school immediately. I teleported north, to a deserted landfill on the edge of the city. I threw the raincoat, gloves, shoe covers, and mask into a pile of trash. Then I set it all on fire. Watched my past burn away with it.

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Okay, so… my landlord kidnapped me. Yeah. Seriously. My boyfriend, Liam, was supposed to come with me to check out the apartment, but he got called away on a business trip last minute. The landlord saw I was just a college grad, all alone, and he started… well, he started getting grabby. Next thing I know, he’s locked me in his creepy basement. Like he actually thinks he can just keep me… 1. My eyelids felt heavy, like peeling tape off a wall. When I finally got them open, the scene in front of me hit me like a physical blow. My breath hitched. What the hell was I wearing? It was… trashy. Skimpy doesn’t even begin to cover it. It wasn’t really clothes. Just… scraps. Shreds of thin, ragged fabric draped over me, barely hiding anything important. I couldn’t stand looking. I squeezed my eyes shut again, heat flaring up my neck and cheeks. Pure, burning shame. I always dress pretty modestly, you know? Nothing flashy. I’d never, ever wear anything like… this. My hands automatically flew up to cover myself, but—clink. A cold, sharp sound. Metal. My wrists were chained. My stomach plummeted. Where am I? How did I get tied up here? My mind started racing backwards, trying to piece together how I ended up in this nightmare. My name’s Chloe. I just graduated a little while ago. Job hunting has been a total headache, and step one was finding my own place. Liam and I had planned to go apartment hunting together, but then his phone rang, and suddenly he had some “emergency” work thing he couldn’t miss. Just like that, he was gone. So there I was, standing alone in front of this apartment building, staring at this gross, yellowed wooden door. I got this really bad feeling. You hear those horror stories, right? Landlords preying on young women, college students especially. But we’d set up the viewing for today, and bailing last second felt rude, like it would tick the landlord off. He’d called me the day before, going on about how tight the rental market was because of graduation season, how places were getting snapped up instantly. If I didn’t commit fast, I’d lose it. So I’d locked it in, feeling pressured. And then, of course, Liam flakes out right when I need him. Still, that bad feeling wouldn’t go away. I quickly called my best friend, Maya, but it went straight to voicemail. Okay, Chloe, I told myself, trying to shake it off. You’re probably just being paranoid. What are the odds something bad actually happens? I took a deep breath, pushed the dread down, and knocked lightly on the door. 2 The door opened pretty fast, and this guy with a face full of stubble and a nasty scar popped out. His eyes were kinda spooky. He glanced outside first, like checking if anyone was around, then looked me up and down. The way he stared… it was like he wanted to eat me alive. Something felt really wrong. My feet were already backing away. I managed to get a little distance, running, but he caught up to me anyway. “Hey, I didn’t do anything. Why are you running?” He lunged, grabbed my arm hard, and kind of rubbed it a few times, this nasty smirk on his face. I frantically looked around. A few yards away, an older woman was walking towards us. Using all my strength, I yelled, “Mom!” In a crowd, yelling “Help!” might get ignored. But yell “Mom,” and almost every mother will turn her head. Sure enough, she looked over. She must have seen the scar-faced guy clamping his hand over my mouth and thought it looked weird, because she frowned and started walking our way. “What’s going on here?” she asked. The guy holding me didn’t miss a beat. “This is my wife,” he said smoothly, his hand still tight over my mouth. “She’s got some mental issues, doesn’t recognize me right now. Just having a little tantrum.” He sounded so practiced, like he’d done this a million times. How many girls had he trapped with this lie? I saw the woman’s expression shifting, starting to believe him, looking like she was about to walk away. I panicked. This might be my only chance. My brain raced, forcing myself to stay calm somehow. When his hand loosened just a tiny bit, I bit down hard on the palm covering my mouth. He yelped, snatching his hand back. “Shit! You bitch!” I grabbed onto the older woman’s purse strap with all my might. “Help me! I don’t know him, I really don’t! Please, call the police! Please…” He cut me off, grabbing me again. “How many times have you run off to the hospital? Can you stop making trouble for me?” I looked up at him, saw his eyes darting around as he tried to pull me away. I could only stare pleadingly at the older woman, praying she’d call 911. Then the guy pulled something out of his pocket – I couldn’t see what – and showed it to the woman. The look on her face changed instantly, and she practically ran away, leaving me behind. While his attention wasn’t on me for that second, I kicked him hard, right where it counts, and bolted, running back the way I came. I didn’t realize how dangerous that move was, how much it would provoke him. Later, I paid a heavy price for it. A sharp pain exploded in the back of my neck, and then… nothing. Everything went black as someone dragged me away. 3 Even with a million questions buzzing in my head, I forced myself to stay calm, trying not to attract the attention of whoever kidnapped me. I stayed quiet. That’s when I started really looking around. It was dark everywhere. A messy, dirty table held all sorts of chemical bottles I didn’t recognize. Various whips and handcuffs hung on the walls, along with different kinds of women’s underwear, just hanging there to dry. The dripping sound I’d barely noticed suddenly stopped. Then, slow footsteps approached from outside the door. Screeeape— There was a dragging sound, like something sharp being pulled across the floor. It echoed horribly in the quiet room. Fear tightened in my chest. When the door creaked open just a crack, I squeezed my eyes shut tight, pretending I was still out cold. Don’t see me… please don’t see me awake. I prayed silently, over and over. A cold draft brushed against my nearly naked skin, making me shiver involuntarily. Suddenly, I felt something wet near my ear, followed by a disgusting slurping sound. A rough hand landed on my chest. It slid down, fingers tracing over my stomach, stopping to rub circles on my lower belly. His other hand held something thin, like a needle, lightly scraping it across my sensitive skin. “Awake, are we?” His voice was deep, resonant. Normally, I’m a sucker for a good voice, but right now? Not interested. Did he know? Or was he just trying to trick me? I kept playing dead, not reacting. With my eyes closed, my other senses felt amplified. His hands didn’t stop. I felt him lightly hooking his fingernails along the inside of my thigh, exploring upwards, deeper. He didn’t make any sudden moves, just kept touching me. If he knew I was awake… I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to resist. After what felt like forever, he suddenly grabbed my leg, lifting it and hooking it over his hip. He just held it there. I had no idea what he was planning. Looking around the room again, at the disturbing décor, and remembering how he’d just been touching me without rushing… this kind of guy probably wanted me awake for whatever sick thing he had planned. Being moved like that made my leg twitch uncontrollably. That seemed to turn him on even more; his movements became rougher. But my thigh started shaking uncontrollably, trembling no matter how hard I tried to stop it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I cracked my eyes open just a slit. Staring down at me was the man with the deep scar across his face. It all came rushing back. It was him! The creepy landlord! He had this twisted, amused smile on his face. “Done playing possum?” And then, the sharp object pierced my skin. A jolt of pain shot through me. I felt a cool liquid slowly seeping into my body. A strange sense of calm washed over me, relaxing my mind and body. Was it drugs? I didn’t know… Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe the drug, but I felt dizzy, heavy… and then I passed out again.

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After secretly marrying an eSports King, I’m owning all the fangirls My sister-in-law’s rant about me went viral. “She’s using her pregnancy as an excuse to act like a queen! She’s making you rub her feet every day! You married a freakin’ servant!” “I like it!” In the video, the eSports Prince was ordering Epsom salts online. That night, a curvy eSports streamer fired back with a pregnancy test picture. “Foot rubs are nothing. You should see him washing my whole body!” The internet exploded! Everyone praised Sarah for being a boss. I slapped the arm of the guy rubbing my feet, Nate. “Why didn’t I know you were giving other people body washes? Get out!” 1 Late at night, after finishing some take-out, I was about to jump into a game. A notification popped up. #Curvy eSports Goddess Summer Shade-Throws Rich Sister-in-Law# I frowned. What money-grubbing scheme was this chick up to now? Probably another self-made drama. I was about to close it, but I clicked on it by mistake. After reading it, I was wide awake. Summer Shade was pregnant? Wasn’t she all about wanting to marry only Nate? Wait… Wasn’t that my sister-in-law in the video? What was she doing as Summer’s “rich sister-in-law?” Was Nate cheating on me? I looked over at Nate, rubbing my feet. If it wasn’t him, it was probably just the media making stuff up. They never got anything right. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have become the most hated player on the eSports scene. I opened up Twitter. The trending topics made my jaw drop. #Nate & Summer Dating Announcement!# #Curvy Goddess Summer Shades the Haters# #eSports Power Couple! Prince & Queen Officially Together# … I scrolled down and saw that Summer Shade was planting ideas in her fans’ heads. Fan 1: “Summer, is that pregnancy test real?” Summer: “Realer than diamonds.” Fan 2: “Was your account hacked?” Summer: “Totally me.” Fan 3: “Is the baby’s daddy the eSports Prince, Nate?” Summer: “Keep it on the DL.” … I was pretty sure that Summer Shade was serious. She was all-in on this. As Summer’s replies came out, more and more topics started trending. Soon, her fans were demanding that Nate officially claim her. But he was notoriously aloof. He never used Twitter. He even shut down the fan club his fans created for him. They couldn’t get to Nate, so they swarmed Summer. Her reply was: [Guys, chill. Even princes get shy. ;)]. I looked over at Nate, still rubbing my feet. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I kicked him off the couch. Nate looked at me, confused. “Babe, what’s wrong?” He had a look of hurt in his eyes, like a lost puppy. He was such a two-faced guy. During tournaments, he was cold as ice. But with me, he was like a magnet. That’s how he got me in the first place. I couldn’t resist his charm, I couldn’t stand to see him sad, and he took advantage of it. I threw my phone at him. “Why didn’t I know you were giving other people body washes? Get out!” Nate’s eyes widened. He started reading the phone. “Who is this chick? She’s just trying to get famous.” I didn’t say anything, just gave him a questioning look. Nate turned pale. He looked at me, panicked and hurt. “Babe, I swear I don’t know her. No, I’ve never even seen her. I swear on my life.” He got down on his knees. 2 I knew Nate wouldn’t cheat on me. Before I said yes, he had a crush on me for eight years, liking everything I posted on social media. After we both got famous, I set my privacy settings so only close friends could see my posts, to keep our relationship secret. Ever since we got together, he was always with me. That’s why my sister-in-law suddenly didn’t like me. She thought her brother had forgotten about his family after getting a girlfriend. The truth is, this curvy streamer, with her 36DDs, was always trying to get Nate’s attention. Whenever she watched him play, she’d take pictures from just the right angle, so everyone would think they were an item. Nate ignored her, but I hated it. I was thinking about what to do when I saw Nate grab my phone and start typing. Before I could stop him, it was too late. Nate had retweeted Summer Shade using my Twitter account. He wrote: “Stop trying to use me. With that fake plastic face, the eSports Prince wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.” My brain was about to explode. How could he be so reckless? I grabbed my phone, ready to cry. “Are you kidding me? If you want to start something, do it on your own account!” “You’re making me look bad!” Nate silently bit his lip, looking guilty. “Didn’t you tell me not to use Twitter? I don’t have an account. Not a real one, and definitely not a fake one!” I remembered that when I decided to join the eSports scene, I gave him a list of rules. Don’t tell anyone we’re together. (His fangirls would kill me.) Don’t help me behind the scenes. (I want to succeed on my own.) Don’t post anything about me on social media. (Keep it low-key, and the fans won’t notice.) If he couldn’t follow those rules, we couldn’t be together. So, only our families knew we were dating. No one in the eSports scene knew. Nate thought it was pointless, so he deleted Twitter, and never posted anything, ever. I sighed, and got ready for the storm. His reply blew up on Twitter. Summer Shade’s fans swarmed my account, sending me hate messages. Everything you could think of, classy and trashy. “Who do you think you are? Calling Summer plastic? Look at yourself!” “Low-class, jealous bitch. You’re just coming out to bite.” “The eSports Prince and Summer are a real couple. You’re just a jealous hater!” “Old hag needs to give it up. Your dead fish face isn’t fooling anyone. Stop trying to be relevant.” … As Summer’s rival, I was used to this stuff. They called me the Ice Queen of eSports. I almost never interacted with anyone, just playing and commentating. Nate was a lot like that. But Summer’s fans accused me of trying to copy Nate and steal Summer’s man! I was tired of being targetted. While I was trying to figure out what to do, Summer Shade herself commented on my tweet. “Nobody even knows who you are.” It was like she was spitting in my face. In this industry, you just didn’t publicly attack someone. There were too many things at stake. Everyone usually threw shade discreetly. You didn’t make it public. Summer and I were directly at each other’s throats, like a soap opera. If I replied, I’d be giving her exactly what she wanted. Attention. If I didn’t reply, it would look like I was weak. It was frustrating. This was the first time Summer and I had publicly clashed. My agency would be pissed. Sure enough, my agent, Brenda, called me right away. 3 “Sarah, are you out of your mind? Why did you retweet Summer Shade?” “Even if you hate her, you shouldn’t be using your main account to start drama. What are you going to do now?” “Do you remember what our contract says? Do you remember your advertising deals?” Of course I did. When I signed, the company said I needed to be a role model. I couldn’t do anything illegal, reply to rumors, or do anything that would create a bad image. In three years, I had become famous for my gaming skills and commentary, earning a lot of fans, and getting a few advertising deals. There were a lot of female commentators who were jealous, including Summer Shade. She didn’t have the skills, but she had a killer body. Her sexy commentary and barely-there outfits won over a lot of fans. We stayed out of each other’s way, but she kept trying to start something. I wanted to fight back, but I had to think about my contract and my career. But it was over. I didn’t need to put up with this anymore. I could pay the fine. It wasn’t like I couldn’t afford it. I could quit. It wasn’t like I could only do this. I could fight back. It wasn’t like I couldn’t hire a social media team. But Nate’s one tweet was going to cost me millions, and endless trouble. I still felt a little resentful and stressed. That money should come out of Nate’s pocket. Why was I suffering for his actions? I put my hand over the phone. “Give me ten million dollars! Not a penny less!” Nate blinked, then perked up. “You’re finally going to use my money? No problem! Here’s all my credit cards!” He came over to hug me. I held him back. I cleared my throat and told Brenda. “I’ll pay the penalty.” “What?” “I’m quitting. Have the legal department get ready, I’ll pay in full.” Brenda didn’t know that my dad was a mining tycoon, and thought I was just mad at the company. She tried to talk me down. “Don’t be crazy. Where are you going to get that kind of money?” “I have it.” “You have it? You’re not worth that much! Don’t mess around, I’m trying to work here! I’ll call you back!” Brenda was a tough cookie. Without even listening to me, she decided to call the company and negotiate. It was late, and I was really tired. I didn’t feel like explaining that I was actually rich. So I just let her do what she wanted. Nate, though, heard I was quitting, and started grinning. “Haha! You’re finally leaving eSports!” “Haha! Great! We can be together!” Nate didn’t want me to join the eSports scene in the first place. He said it was a den of wolves. He knew I was pretty, and guys would try to take advantage of me. When he found out I was pregnant, he wanted to run over to my company and cancel my contract. I insisted on trying it out, so he let me. Now, he was getting his way. The next afternoon, Brenda called to say she had worked out a deal with the company. They would let me join an eSports show, while I was still popular. Since I was going the trashy route, it was perfect. The most important thing was that Summer Shade would be on the show too. The two of us together would create crazy buzz, and the show might be a hit. Being famous was the most important thing. Afraid that I would refuse, Brenda pleaded. “Sarah, this is the best I can get for you. Why don’t you just try it?” When I found out that Summer Shade would be there, I agreed without even thinking. She said I was leeching off her fame? I’d show everyone who was leeching off who! I told my team to start collecting evidence. I was going to fight back! Brenda thought I was crazy, but she had no choice. 4 On the day the show started filming, the eSports Prince showed up, and the internet exploded. The show grabbed onto the attention and used it to promote the show. Before I even came out, I saw the crazy comments on my phone. “OMG, Nate’s really here!” “Total Prince Charming! Summer’s so lucky!” “Haha, is he going to do another body wash?” “He came all the way to the show! He’s in love!” … Then it was Summer’s turn. She was wearing almost nothing, with her boobs practically falling out. She walked in and saw Nate sitting on the couch, glaring at her. Summer looked shy and lowered her head as she walked past Nate. She even paused for a second, to let the fans take pictures of them together. The host called her over, and she finally sat down. Nate saw her sitting next to him, and he stood up and moved one seat over. The fans thought it was a cute lover’s spat. “Cold on the outside, passionate on the inside! The eSports Prince is two different people! And Summer is all about passion on the outside, and a traditional girl on the inside! They’re a perfect match!” “I can’t wait to see them flirt on the show! Go Summer!” “OMG, the couple finally met!” “So hot, I’m drooling!” … I frowned. The fans would ship anything. When it was my turn to come out, the comments changed. “WTF, what’s she doing here?” “Gross. Why is Sarah always everywhere? Trying to take Summer’s spotlight again!” “I always thought the rumors about her riding Summer’s coattails were just rumors, but it’s true! This girl is desperate.” “Did the show not check her rep? Why are they inviting every random person?” “This woman is so shameless. These two are a couple, what’s she doing here?” But some of my fans stood up for me. “What’s wrong with her being here? It’s a competition show, and Sarah has the best skills! Some people just take their clothes off to get famous!” “Summer only got famous by riding on Sarah’s fame! Who’s obsessed with who?” “Aww, our Sarah doesn’t have the connections, and can’t shake off the haters.” The fans were fighting, and things were getting heated. The host got a message and told me to sit down. I looked left and right, and sat down next to Nate. Nate looked at me and gave me a sly smile. I glared at him, and he immediately looked away. So, the seating arrangement was me and Nate together, and Summer Shade sitting alone in the corner. The comments went crazy: “Is this girl crazy? What’s she doing sitting next to Nate? Trying to steal Summer’s man?” “Sarah’s trying to be the other woman! Like the eSports Prince would even give her a second glance.” “Nate is so tolerant, getting glared at and not even getting mad!” … The hate aimed at me was at its peak. Then the other guests came out. The show was starting!

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After my Aunt Lily and Uncle Mark died, my dad took my cousin Jessica in. But she treated him like her personal ATM, bleeding him dry and then accusing him of spying on her, of being a creep… 1. “Sarah, I can’t believe your dad… going after his own niece? Guess the old man’s still got some fire in him, huh? Hahaha!” I was head-down, working on a project proposal at the office. My arch-nemesis, Chloe Davis, suddenly materialized above me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. My blood boiled instantly. I figured she was just trying to sabotage me, snatch the project with some low-blow personal attack. But then she shoved her phone right in my face. Playing on the screen was a viral video – TikTok, probably – with hundreds of thousands of likes and comments: “OMG you guys, you won’t BELIEVE this. My own uncle… sexually harassed me. Spied on me. That old creep is absolutely shameless, lower than dirt! Here’s what happened: two years ago, my parents died in a car crash. My uncle, Michael Johnson – yeah, the disgusting old sicko – said I should come live with him. At first, I was actually happy. It meant I still had family, you know? But just two days ago, I caught him. The creep was spying on me while I was showering, changing clothes. And when I confronted him? He didn’t apologize. He threatened me! Told me if I said a word, he’d beat me senseless and leak the videos he took! That’s when I saw his true colors. I realized he didn’t take me in out of kindness. He wanted to take advantage of me! It all made sense then – why my underwear sometimes seemed like it had been moved around. That pervert is so disgusting! I don’t even know how many times he violated my privacy. So, I moved out immediately. But he’s my only family left, so I felt like I had to just suck it up, forgive him, and carry this burden alone. BUT, listen up everyone, if you’re ever spied on or taken advantage of, PLEASE don’t be like me and suffer in silence. Stand up for yourselves! Fight back against these predators! Call them out online…” I… I was completely numb. This was pure fabrication. Slander. The woman in the video was my cousin, Jessica Miller. Yes, she’d moved in with us two years ago after her parents died, and yes, she’d moved out a couple of days ago. But it wasn’t because my dad harassed her or spied on her. It was because she demanded twenty thousand dollars from him, and he didn’t give it to her! For the two years Jessica lived with us, my dad treated her like his own daughter. He paid for everything – food, housing, everything. She didn’t spend a dime. Sometimes, she’d even cry poverty to get money from him for clothes or makeup. I remember once, Dad worked a construction job for a year, only for the foreman and manager to skip town with everyone’s wages. He didn’t get paid a cent. We were struggling just to eat. When I found out, I lied and said I got a bonus at work. In reality, I gave him two months of my own salary so he could take a break. But when I came back from a business trip? I found him eating instant ramen noodles every day, not even buying cheap veggies. After I pressed him, he admitted Jessica had guilted the money out of him for some designer dress and outfit because “everyone at her new internship wears custom stuff.” I was so furious I couldn’t eat for three days! I don’t even own custom-made clothes! My dad would literally starve himself to make sure she had money, terrified she’d feel like a burden or an outsider. But that ungrateful viper? Instead of being thankful, she pushed her luck. She demanded another twenty thousand dollars from him for a “nest egg,” supposedly for when she eventually got married. And she made it clear any gift money from a future wedding was hers to keep too. Seriously? Was she treating my dad like her personal ATM?! I didn’t even have a nest egg saved up! What gave her the right? Besides, my dad’s just a regular construction worker. He’s been both mom and dad to me for years, working his fingers to the bone. Where was he supposed to pull twenty grand from?! Jessica threw a massive tantrum, screamed at him, completely turned on him right then and there. Called him heartless, greedy, said he cared more about money than family. I almost laughed out loud from sheer rage. Who was the one obsessed with money? Who was the shameless, heartless one?! And now, she had the audacity to post this kind of video? Twisting everything, spreading lies and slander? She’d stoop to this level – this vile, disgusting level – just for money? Does she even have a shred of humanity left? I slammed my fist on the desk! Just as I was about to unleash a string of curses, my boss, Mr. Peterson, called out, “Sarah, my office, please.” His face was grim. He’d clearly seen the video. As soon as I walked in, I started explaining, “Mr. Peterson, please don’t misunderstand. That video is completely false, pure slander. My dad would never spy on anyone. He’s just an honest, hardworking guy…” But Mr. Peterson held up a hand, cutting me off. “Sarah, even if I believe you, what difference does it make? That video already has millions of views. The public fallout is huge, and it’s going to hit you soon. I can’t let this negatively impact the company.” “So, Mr. Peterson, what… what are you saying?” A horrible feeling washed over me. He sighed. “Go home now, Sarah. Sort this out with your father. Let Chloe take over the project for now. Once this is completely resolved, you can come back.” In other words, if I couldn’t make this go away completely, I wouldn’t have a job to come back to. One malicious, slanderous video from Jessica, and my project, my job, were on the line? Panic surged. “Mr. Peterson, I promise you, my dad would absolutely never—” “Enough! Go home and check on your father! He needs you right now.” Mr. Peterson waved me away. I could only bite my lip and walk out. Jessica, you shameless, ungrateful snake. I will make you pay for this! “Wow, you just never know, do you? He seemed like such a quiet old guy, but behind closed doors, he’s a creep preying on his own niece. Tsk, tsk, really goes to show you can’t judge a book by its cover!” The second I stepped out of the office, Chloe’s mocking voice piped up again. Others quickly chimed in: “Exactly! Like father, like daughter, right? Maybe some people are just as twisted and dirty on the inside as their dad. We should probably keep our distance!” “Ugh, puts on a professional front, but comes from trash like that. People like them deserve to be canceled!” “………” Listening to their disgusting words, my fists clenched tight. Suddenly, Mr. Peterson’s sharp voice cut through from his office: “That’s enough! Do you all want your pay docked?” “Sarah, just go home!” I forced myself to swallow the rage. “You just wait,” I muttered under my breath. “The truth will come out.” 2. When I got home, Dad was on the phone. It sounded like one of our relatives, Aunt Carol, and she was laying into him. I could hear her sharp tones from across the room. “…Michael, how could you do such a thing? Jessica is your niece, your own blood! Have you no shame? At your age! I’m embarrassed for you! How are we supposed to face anyone now…” My dad was desperately trying to explain, but he’s never been good with words. He was getting so flustered tears were welling up in his eyes. “Carol, I swear I didn’t! I don’t know why Jessica would post something like that! I didn’t spy on her, really! She’s my niece, how could I possibly…? It’s impossible…” He was trembling, repeating the same phrases over and over. Seeing him like that broke my heart and fueled my anger. I walked over and snatched the phone from his hand. “Aunt Carol! If Dad really spied on Jessica, why didn’t she call the police? Why post a video online? She’s framing him! It’s slander!” My aunt paused for a second. “Well… well, that’s because Jessica’s a sensitive girl, she cares about family, and she’s probably scared you two will retaliate! How could you treat such a sweet girl so horribly…” “Sensitive? Cares about family? Ha! If you think she’s so great, why don’t you take her in? Stop wasting my time!” I scoffed. “You brat… you…! That video has hundreds of thousands of people talking! You think they’re all wrong? Jessica was right, you two are just heartless and ungrateful! You deserve…” “Believe whatever you want online! Just stop calling my dad!” SLAM! I hung up forcefully. Dad immediately started fussing, scolding me for talking to Aunt Carol like that, wanting to call her back. I tossed the phone onto the couch and grabbed his arm. “Dad! Stop! She won’t believe you!” “Then… then what do we do? I can’t just let people think this! What’s gotten into Jessica…?” Dad paced like a caged animal, wringing his hands. “Oh, right! I’ll call Jessica! If I just talk to her, clear things up, it’ll be fine! I’ll get her to take the video down…” He reached for the phone again. I blocked him once more. “Dad, don’t you get it yet? Jessica is an ungrateful viper! She won’t listen to you right now!” Dad shook his head frantically. “No, no, Jessica’s just confused, acting out. If I explain it to her, she’ll understand. She doesn’t really mean to hurt me. I’ll call her, we’ll sort it out…” I felt helpless. “What do you mean, confused? She’s deliberately slandering you! Can you please just stop trying to contact her? What we need to do now is call the police!” “The police? No, no! That would ruin Jessica! Let me just call her, we can talk it through. Let go of me…” Dad pulled his arm free with surprising strength. I was speechless with frustration. Fine. Call her. Let’s see what wonderful things she has to say to you. Dad dialed her number, his voice hesitant and careful. “Hello? Jessica? Honey, I saw that video you posted online… what’s going on? How could you say your uncle spied—” “Why do you care what video I post?! I’ll say whatever I want! You got a problem with that?!” Jessica’s furious voice erupted from the phone before he could finish. “No, Jessica, listen to me. You need to take that video down right now. Your Aunt Carol just called, she said—” “What do I care what she said?! Let me tell you something – no money, no deleting the video! Got it?!” Click. Beeeep beeep beeep… Dad just stood there, stunned, phone still pressed to his ear. “Well? See her true colors now?” I took the phone from his hand and guided him to the sofa. He sat there for a long time, silent. Then tears started streaming down his face. “How could she? How could Jessica do this? I never treated her badly… how could she lie about me like this…?” I knew this wasn’t the time for wallowing. We needed to clear his name, fast. I immediately dialed 911. Dad actually tried to stop me, still holding onto some sliver of hope for Jessica. I snapped, my voice sharp with frustration. “Do you want me to lose my job because of her? Think about what Aunt Carol just said! Think about what your coworkers will say! How are we supposed to live in this neighborhood anymore?” I pulled away from him and made the call. The police arrived quickly. After hearing the story, one officer asked, “Did you record that last phone call you made?” I shook my head. “Okay,” the officer said. “We’ll need to contact the other party involved, Ms. Miller, to get her statement and investigate further. If we can confirm she knowingly spread false information – defamation – we’ll proceed according to the law.” “How long will that take?” I asked anxiously. “It depends on her cooperation,” the officer replied. “This is just a preliminary investigation, so we can’t compel her testimony at this stage.” “So, if she just refuses to cooperate, we’re stuck? Just left hanging while our reputations are destroyed? What about the damage to our lives, the lost income?” I was getting desperate. “We understand your frustration,” the officer said reassuringly. “Rest assured, we will investigate this thoroughly and as quickly as possible, and take appropriate action based on the facts.” Great. Said a lot without saying anything useful! By the time the police finished their investigation, would I even have a job to go back to? After they left, the anger simmered inside me. That viper Jessica. Not only did she cost me my project, but she’d turned our family and friends against my dad. I couldn’t just let her get away with it. Just charging her with defamation wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. I needed to add something more potent to the mix. But before I could make my move, someone else targeted our home first.

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