Category: English

My mother-in-law made my life hell during my postpartum recovery. Even when I jumped off the roof, she showed no remorse. Given a second chance at life, I decided I wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. I was determined to teach that mother and son a lesson. 1 “You couldn’t even give me a grandson, so what’s wrong with me finding someone else?” I stood on the rooftop, holding my three-month-old daughter. The wind howled, carrying my mother-in-law’s voice even further. She’d always been materialistic, blatantly favoring boys over girls, incredibly two-faced – saying one thing to your face and another behind your back. Before the wedding, she showered me with sweet talk, making me dizzy with promises, convincing me to ignore my parents’ objections and marry Jake. After the wedding, the mask came off, revealing a monster. My husband, Jake, wasn’t the sharp, capable man he’d pretended to be. Quite the opposite – lazy and a total mama’s boy. After our daughter was born, he barely visited, letting his mother “take care” of me during my recovery. When I finally got out of that postpartum haze and went looking for him, I found out he’d secretly bought a house, and there was a pregnant woman living in it. The postpartum period is rough enough, prone to physical and emotional issues. The constant gloom plunged me into postpartum depression. So, after that series of blows, I ended up on the rooftop. I looked at my daughter in my arms and managed a weak smile. Behind me, my mother-in-law was already starting her usual drama queen routine. Spouting nonsense like, “Our family needs an heir! How dare a woman who can’t even produce a son think about ending her life!” I tuned her out like background noise. Gently, I stroked my daughter’s soft cheek. Sweet baby girl, maybe in the next life, if we’re lucky, you can be Mommy’s daughter again. As I jumped, I turned and saw my parents’ faces. Suddenly, it hit me – I’d lived such a pathetic life, letting everyone down. If there was a next life… If I could just start over… 2 “Honey, I need some cash right now. Mom says Mr. Johnson’s factory is having cash flow problems. If we invest, we can get a stake in the business!” Jake’s excited voice buzzed in my ear. My mother-in-law sat beside him, egging him on. “Ashley, you’re pretty far along now, almost due. Keep enough for the hospital bills, but give the rest to Jake for his business venture!” My head felt foggy as I looked at the familiar scene, instinctively touching my belly. At this point, I was seven months pregnant. Right on schedule for Jake asking for money for his “business.” Just like last time. Last time, seeing Jake so ambitious, I took $25,000 out of the $30,000 my parents gave me as a wedding gift and handed it over, fully supporting his “career.” During that period, my mother-in-law and Jake were sickeningly sweet to me, showering me with attention. It was almost overwhelming. That was the best treatment I got after they found out I was carrying a girl. But did that money really go into a business? Nope. His mother had introduced Jake to another girl. That pair, mother and son, conned $25,000 out of me to make a down payment on a house for her. I let out a cold snort, looking at the fawning duo with a half-smile. “Mom, I can give you the money, but when are Jake and I actually going to get our marriage license?” Her eyes darted around nervously, looking from Jake to me. Jake didn’t dare speak either. I leaned back on the couch, flashing the same sweet smile I used to, and asked again. She slapped her thigh abruptly, annoyance flashing across her face. “Obviously, after you’ve given our family an heir, a son! Then we’ll get the license!” I agreed softly, “Okay, I’ll transfer the money to your account tomorrow.” Hearing this, Jake and his mother couldn’t hide their excitement. Sitting across from them, I smirked inwardly. A marriage license? Jake had already married that other woman. How could he possibly marry me? This time, I’ll make sure this mother and son get exactly what they deserve. 3 The next morning, my mother-in-law knocked on my bedroom door early. Her voice was syrupy sweet, “Ashley, breakfast is ready!” I fumbled for my phone on the big bed. 7 AM. She really couldn’t wait. I mumbled an acknowledgment, slowly put on my robe, and went into the en-suite bathroom to wash up. After dawdling for half an hour, ignoring her constant calls, I finally emerged. The moment I stepped out, the door to the adjacent room opened too. Jake, hair sticking up like a bird’s nest, groggily started venting his morning grumpiness, “Mom, what’s all the racket this early? Can’t a guy get some sleep!” His mother shrieked, “Why were you sleeping in that room? Ashley, how could you let Jake sleep in that dumpy room!” I ignored her and walked straight to the dining table. Gotta hand it to her, she really pulled out all the stops for my money. There must have been eighteen different breakfast dishes. I picked up a fried egg, put it on my plate, and took a careful sip of the slightly too-hot oatmeal. Seeing me ignore her, she grabbed Jake and stood beside me, snatching the bowl out of my hand. “Ashley, I’m talking to you! That little room has nothing in it but a crappy old mattress! How could you make Jake sleep there!” “Jake snores so loudly at night, I can’t sleep. If he doesn’t stay there, should he sleep with you instead?” Just looking at Jake made me sick now; sharing a room was out of the question. Last night, when he tried to get into bed, I kicked him out and sent him to the unfinished guest room. Jake initially refused, but I just stared at him coldly and asked flatly, “Do you still want that twenty-five thousand or not?” His face turned pale, and he obediently grabbed his pillow and shuffled off to the next room. My mother-in-law wouldn’t let it go. “Why are you so delicate? Back in my day, women worked in the fields while pregnant! How can a little snoring bother you?” “Aren’t you afraid your man will run off to another woman’s bed!” I glanced at her, a cryptic smile playing on my lips. Isn’t Jake already in another woman’s bed? But I couldn’t expose them yet. Not the right time. I decided to mimic her shrewish behavior, only worse. With one sweep of my arm, I sent the lavish breakfast crashing to the floor. Porcelain plates and bowls shattered, the clattering sound like music to my ears. My mother-in-law and Jake froze, stunned. Jake reacted first, rolling up his sleeves and storming towards me menacingly. “Ashley, how dare you throw a tantrum at my mom?” I raised an eyebrow, unfazed, and used my trump card again. “What? You gonna hit me? I guess you don’t want that twenty-five thousand after all!” Jake froze mid-stride. His mother forced a strained smile onto her ugly face. I knew it. This pair only bullied me because they thought I was weak. Try to bully me now? Not a chance. 4 The money had to be given, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for them. Yesterday I told them I’d go to the bank today. But after this morning’s scene, did they really expect me to just trot off to the bank? No way. I nonchalantly dropped the line, “I’m not in a good mood. I’m going back to my parents’ place for a bit. We can go to the bank another day.” Without waiting to see their reactions, I steadied myself with my hand on my belly and slowly went back to my room to pack. Behind me, my mother-in-law put on a show of scolding Jake, her voice loud enough for me to hear clearly. “Jake! You ungrateful son! How could you almost raise a hand to Ashley! She’s carrying your child! Are you trying to kill your mother with anger!” Jake mumbled apologies to his mom. Quite the actors, really treating me like an idiot. And Jake – he wanted to hit me, why was he apologizing to his mom? I rolled my eyes behind their backs, muttered “Hypocrites,” and slammed my bedroom door shut with a bang. The voices outside quieted, but I could still faintly hear them. “Son, are you stupid? Wait until we get the money, then you can hit her all you want! If you scare her off now and she doesn’t give us the money, what about… over there?” Disgusting. Looked decent enough, but couldn’t speak or act like a human being. Planning to hit me once the money was secured? I won’t give you the chance. I knew who “over there” was – that other woman. She was pressuring Jake to buy the house. But what did that have to do with me? Let Jake deal with his own headache. Since Jake had shown he might get violent, I definitely couldn’t stay under the same roof. If he actually hit me, I’d have no one to turn to. I packed my clothes and dug out the property deed from the closet. I opened it and planted a big kiss on the page showing only my name. Jake came from a rural background, clawing his way up through college. I was a city girl, raised comfortably. My family was well-off, and I’d met plenty of rich kids. But Jake presented himself as hardworking, down-to-earth, and kind, with a decent face – different from anyone I knew. We fell in love quickly in college, and after graduation, I married him despite my parents’ strong objections. My parents were furious at my stubbornness, practically wanting to crack my head open to see what was inside. But in the end, they relented and agreed to the marriage. I remembered my dad, wiping away tears in anger, shoving this deed and a bank card at me. “This is the house I bought for you, and the money in this card is your dowry. Don’t bother coming back to see your mother and me. We’ll pretend we never had a daughter.” I didn’t say anything then, just took Jake’s arm and left. I even complained that the 1500-square-foot house was too small. But now, I was incredibly grateful. Thank goodness I hadn’t impulsively added Jake’s name to the deed, otherwise, I’d have no way to kick this mother-son duo out later. I packed all my valuables into my suitcase and walked out under their watchful eyes, head held high. 5 Instead of going straight to my parents’ house, I went to the hospital first. Last time, my daughter was premature, which made her frail. I needed to check on the baby’s condition this time around. “Your baby is positioned very low. You should be on bed rest during the third trimester.” I clutched the check-up report, the doctor’s words echoing in my ears. I was already seven months pregnant. In these seven months, I’d only had two proper prenatal checks, both at small clinics. One was to determine the baby’s sex, the other because of sudden abdominal pain. I wanted to go to the main city hospital, but my mother-in-law always said it was unnecessary. “As long as the baby’s healthy, why waste the money?” After the first check revealed it was a girl, my mother-in-law threw the ultrasound report at my head right then and there, yelling, “Useless! A good-for-nothing can only produce another good-for-nothing! Our family line is going to end with you!” The second time was the sudden pain. I was so panicked I didn’t notice my mother-in-law’s reaction, just kept urging Jake to get me to the hospital. Thinking back now, her expression was clearly one of suppressed excitement and joy! I never even got a glimpse of the test results from that visit; Jake and his mother hid them completely. Jake even offered fake comfort, saying, “It’s nothing, you just got too emotional, there was a risk of miscarriage.” At the time, I wondered how that could be. I’d been trying hard to stay calm and avoid getting angry. How could “being too emotional” cause a threatened miscarriage? Thinking of this, I looked down at the report in my hand again, gripping it so tightly my knuckles turned white. I remembered my mother-in-law constantly nagging me, “Ashley, you have to walk around a lot before giving birth, that way you won’t have a difficult labor.” She repeated this almost daily. Luckily, back then I was genuinely scared of miscarrying, so I stayed put on bed rest for a while, which saved the baby. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. If I hadn’t come to the hospital today, wouldn’t my baby have suffered the same fate as last time? I clenched my teeth and cursed under my breath, “That old witch, always plotting how to harm me, never doing anything decent!” But right now, none of that mattered. The only thing in my head was “bed rest, protect the baby.” I ignored Jake’s incessant calls, carefully cradling my belly as I walked to the hospital entrance and hailed a cab. 6 This was the first time I’d been home in the three years since I married Jake. The furniture in the house hadn’t changed; it still felt familiar and warm. When I walked in, my parents were snuggled on the sofa watching TV. From the doorway, I could see their graying hair. They looked much older than three years ago. My nose stung, and I couldn’t even manage to call out “Mom, Dad.” For them, it was seeing the daughter they’d essentially cut ties with for three years. For me, it was the unspeakable regret spanning two lifetimes, separated by death. I stood in the doorway, pregnant, pulling my suitcase, momentarily speechless. My mom spotted me first. She froze, then nudged my dad urgently, “She’s home! Look, Ashley’s home!” My dad didn’t turn around immediately. As I stepped further inside, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I threw myself into my mom’s arms and sobbed uncontrollably. Mom held me tight, crying with me, gently patting my back. “You stubborn girl! Said you wouldn’t come back and really meant it! Did you think Mom and Dad would actually disown you?” I buried my head in her shoulder, shaking my head. My dad sighed heavily beside us. “You got hurt, didn’t you? Told you not to marry him! You wouldn’t listen. Would your parents ever steer you wrong?” I looked up at him. His aged eyes were filled with tears, a deep, undeniable pain in them. My parents’ faces merged with the last image I saw before I jumped in my previous life. Wiping my tears, I forced a smile. “Dad, you were right. Jake is no good. But I’ll make sure he pays for what he did!” My parents didn’t ask what exactly happened. But a married daughter, heavily pregnant, showing up at her parents’ doorstep looking disheveled and pulling a suitcase – it was obvious she’d been through hell. My dad nodded, patting my shoulder. “It’s okay if you took a wrong turn for a while. The important thing is to turn back.”

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I met Ethan through a blind date set up by friends. We dated for a few months and then had a whirlwind wedding. This year marked our first Christmas together as a married couple. Before getting married, we agreed to alternate holidays with our families. This year was supposed to be with my parents, next year with his. After we hit the highway, Ethan was driving and told me to get some rest. Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes, and the car had turned around and was heading onto a completely different freeway. … Waking up in the car, I saw a sign ahead. 【Rockbridge: 50 miles】 Rockbridge? That wasn’t anywhere near my parents’ place. I snapped awake instantly and turned to Ethan in the driver’s seat. “Where are we going?” He looked a bit uncomfortable, but the car sped up slightly. “Honey, my mom just called. Maybe we could go to my place first this year?” Suppressing my anger, I asked, “Is there some emergency at your parents’ place that requires us to rush back today?” He stammered, unable to give a straight answer, just silently pressing the gas pedal a few more times. My voice rose. “Ethan, we had a deal. My parents have cooked a whole feast waiting for us for dinner.” Sensing my displeasure, Ethan finally started explaining: “Sarah, my sister Jenny managed to come home with her kid for Christmas this year, it’s a rare occasion. She really wants me to bring you home so we can all take a family photo together. Can you do this for me?” He’d told me about this sister before. She rarely came home after getting married, and supposedly her husband wasn’t good to her, always messing around. Her sudden return this time… did something happen? I checked the map on my phone. We were getting closer and closer to Ethan’s hometown. Turning back to my parents’ place would add another three hours to the trip. After his repeated pleading, I had to give in. I called my parents, explained the situation, and told them we’d have to go to my in-laws’ first this year. Though unhappy, my parents just reminded me to be careful and polite when I got there. … When we arrived at Ethan’s family home, his parents beamed, seeing us loaded down with bags and gifts. A woman walked out of the house, holding the hand of a five or six-year-old boy. The boy resembled Ethan somewhat. They say nephews often look like their uncles, so I guessed that must be Ethan’s sister, Jenny. Ethan’s mom quickly pulled the child over to me. “Bobby, come here. Say hi to Aunt Sarah.” The boy mumbled a soft “Aunt Sarah,” and I handed him the gift card I had ready. He shyly retreated back to his mother’s side. I politely greeted her, “Hi, Jenny.” She just sniffed, turned around, and took the boy back into her room. Ethan’s mom looked a little embarrassed. “She hasn’t been home in a long time, she’s a bit out of sorts. Don’t mind her, Sarah.” Since we were already here, I figured we had to make the best of the holiday. Ethan and I started helping his mom get things ready, bustling around. Jenny just watched us come and go with a long face. Especially when Ethan showed any concern for me, she’d throw out a snide remark or two. I quietly asked Ethan if his sister didn’t like me. He just reassured me, saying she was heartbroken after her husband left her, and that’s why she was acting this way. It’s normal for someone going through a rough breakup to be moody. I was puzzled, though. If she specifically wanted to meet me, why was she being so cold? All these questions were answered on Christmas Eve. During dinner, Ethan’s mother suddenly proposed that Jenny’s son, Bobby, be legally put under my name so he could attend school in the city. I glanced at Ethan. He practically buried his head in his bowl. His mother continued: “Sarah, Bobby just needs to use your address for the school district. It’s just on paper. Besides, you two don’t have kids yet anyway.” The apartment was mine. My parents made the down payment before the wedding, and I paid the mortgage. Ethan and I split our finances down the middle after getting married, so decisions about the apartment were mine to make. Seeing my silence, Ethan’s mother nudged Jenny beside her: “Are you mute? Say something.” Jenny finally spoke, reluctantly: “Can’t you see she doesn’t want to? What’s the point of you blabbering on?” Her words silenced the table instantly. Everyone looked our way. My chopsticks, reaching for food, hovered awkwardly. I nudged Ethan under the table, but he pretended not to notice, just kept eating. My heart instantly turned cold. This mother-daughter duo was putting on a show, trying to pressure me into agreeing out of politeness. … “The apartment is technically still under my parents’ names. I’ll have to ask them about this.” Luckily, when I bought it, my salary wasn’t high enough, so we put it in my parents’ names initially. It served as a convenient excuse now. Hearing this, Jenny scoffed, while Ethan’s mother forced a smile. “Well, yes, you certainly need to ask your parents. Let’s eat, let’s eat.” The rest of the meal passed with unspoken tensions. Later that night, while setting off some fireworks, one of Ethan’s young cousins accidentally bumped into Jenny. The boy mumbled, looking down, “Sorry, ma’am.” (He used a term closer to ‘sister-in-law’ in the original, but ‘ma’am’ or avoiding a title fits better here). I thought he might be talking to me and asked loudly, “What’s wrong?” The little boy just bolted away. Jenny, however, shot me a glare. That look made me feel she genuinely disliked me. The next day was Christmas Day. As soon as I woke up, Ethan told me to go serve tea to the elders. (This custom is specific, let’s adapt it to a more general ‘pay respects’ or ‘give gifts’ scenario typical of a formal family gathering, though less common in the US. Let’s make it about giving a small gift or offering a formal greeting). I was surprised that this small town had such specific holiday rituals. After offering greetings and a small gift to Ethan’s parents, his mother gave me a card with some cash inside, smiling. I took the card and turned to leave, but Ethan stopped me and led me over to Jenny. “Give my sister a greeting too.” I looked at him, utterly confused. Paying respects to parents, I understood. But to his sister? I’d never heard of such a thing. It felt archaic, almost demeaning. Jenny sat on the chair, chin held high, looking down at me with disdain. I strongly felt her hostility, even though this was truly our first real interaction. Seeing me hesitate, Ethan urged me on. “Didn’t we only do this for your parents at the wedding?” Even though Jenny wasn’t at the wedding, Ethan had plenty of other cousins and relatives there, and this wasn’t done. Ethan nudged me again. “It’s a family tradition here. Just offer her a greeting.” Seeing me remain motionless, Jenny’s expression hardened where she sat. She snapped sharply: “You married Ethan, so you follow the family’s ways. You have to do this today.” This was the first time Jenny had raised her voice at me since I arrived, openly showing her dislike. I took the small token gift Ethan was holding out, making them think I was about to present it to Jenny. The next second, I dropped it on the floor. … The atmosphere instantly froze. Enraged, Jenny lunged forward and slapped me hard across the face. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to react. Clutching my stinging left cheek, I stumbled back a step. “You’re just Ethan’s sister. What right do you have to hit me?” Looking at Ethan standing there, completely stunned, I wondered how I could have married such a spineless man. Watching his wife get hit by his own sister, and he just froze in shock. Jenny suddenly burst out laughing, her face twisting as she lunged at me again. “Today, I’ll teach you a lesson for Ethan, you disobedient bitch!” I thought Jenny was the aloof type, but deep down, she was completely unhinged. I even wondered if she had some mental health issues. Ethan’s parents finally reacted, rushing to pull her back. “Jenny, don’t be rash! Think about Bobby’s future, it depends on Ethan and Sarah!” I naturally assumed they meant Jenny was divorced and now relying on her family and her brother, Ethan. Suddenly, Bobby rushed out from the room, pummeling me with his small fists and feet. “You bad woman! It’s your fault I don’t have a daddy! I’ll beat you up!” Bobby’s words left me completely bewildered. This was the first time I’d ever met Jenny, let alone her supposed ex-husband. What misunderstanding was this? Ethan’s mother quickly covered Bobby’s mouth and dragged him away. Jenny was also led away, leaving just Ethan and me in the living room. He was silent for a long time, seemingly searching for an excuse. “Sarah, don’t take it personally. My sister… she’s not mentally stable right now. I apologize on her behalf.” He tried to step forward and hug me, but I dodged him. “So you just stood there and watched your sister hit me?” My relationship with Ethan was built over just a few months. He was introduced by a friend, and I thought he was honest and responsible. Now, it seemed he’d hidden his true nature very well. The plan to start trying for a baby after the New Year was now completely off the table in my mind. I decided I needed to seriously re-evaluate our marriage. … That evening, after Ethan’s sincere apologies, I backed down slightly. Christmas break was only a few days anyway. I could tough it out. Seeing my mood soften, Ethan brought up Bobby again. “Do you think maybe Bobby could come live with us after the holidays? My mom could come too, to look after him. My sister’s mental state… she definitely can’t care for him right now.” Seeing my silence, he added: “My parents have retirement pensions; they won’t need money from us. We can live just like before, plus we’ll have someone home to do chores and cook.” With him putting it that way, it was hard to refuse. Even if I disliked Jenny, the child was innocent. Growing up with a seemingly unstable mother could ruin his life. Plus, his grandmother would be looking after him, not me. When I nodded, Ethan was overjoyed and tried to get close to me. I instinctively pushed him away. “We have to get up early tomorrow to visit your uncle’s family. Let’s sleep.” The next day, on the way to visit relatives, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the neighbors were looking at me strangely. When I glanced their way, the chattering groups would fall conspicuously silent. Just as we neared his uncle’s house, an older woman, Mrs. Davis maybe, suddenly called out from behind us: “Ethan! How come your first wife isn’t out today?” Ethan’s face became extremely unnatural. “Mrs. Davis, what nonsense are you talking about? My wife is right here!” Mrs. Davis looked me up and down. “Oh? Went to the city and tricked another pretty wife, did you!” Another? Mrs. Davis’s words made me certain Ethan was hiding something significant from me. I wanted to ask her what she meant, but Ethan quickly pulled me away, muttering that Mrs. Davis had dementia. After visiting his uncle’s family and exchanging pleasantries. The uncle’s family also acted strangely, constantly asking, “When is Jenny leaving?” I was surprised by their intense curiosity about Jenny’s plans. I returned to Ethan’s house filled with doubt. Before I even stepped into the living room, I heard his mother’s voice. “Jenny, you need to stop provoking that Sarah for a while. What if she gets upset? What about Bobby? Can’t you just tolerate it for a few days?” Then came Jenny’s furious roar. “What was wrong with me asking her to show respect? She should have knelt and served me tea! Just based on the fact that I entered this family before she did! Back in the day, Sarah would just be a concubine!” My mind suddenly went blank. A few words echoed in my head. Ethan’s child… concubine… The words circled relentlessly. I couldn’t believe it, but I quickly understood what she meant. Ethan beside me was already panicking, rushing inside to try and stop them. Just then, Jenny burst out of her room, hair disheveled. The slap mark on her face was still clearly visible. … Seeing Ethan and me standing at the doorway.

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Two kids were in the same car crash, and I only saved one. My husband condemned me for being cold. My mother-in-law went ballistic, demanding, “Why didn’t you save your son?! Why didn’t you save my grandson?!” Because I did it on purpose. 1. In the hospital, Ethan was still in surgery. Little Chloe clung to me, her small body trembling. “Auntie Amelia, is Ethan gonna be okay?” I glanced towards the operating room, my expression flickering. Ethan’s legs were practically crushed. Even if he pulled through, he wouldn’t keep them. I pulled out a wet wipe and gently cleaned the grime off Chloe’s face, murmuring softly, “He’ll be okay, sweetie. Don’t worry.” Then, I checked her scrapes again. Her arms and knees were scraped raw. They’d been cleaned up, but looking at them still made my heart ache. “How about you? Does it hurt bad?” Chloe shook her head, poking my arm lightly with her little hand, her eyes red-rimmed. “I’m okay, Auntie. You’re hurt really bad. You should let the nurse bandage you up.” I’d been so focused on the kids that I hadn’t even registered my own injuries until she mentioned it. A big patch of skin was gone from my elbow, raw and bloody, looking nasty. It happened when I’d grabbed Chloe and rolled during the crash. Seeing the fear and worry in her eyes, I softened my voice even more. “Okay, Auntie will go get bandaged right now. Don’t cry, Chloe. Later, Auntie will buy you some ice cream, how about that?” Chloe quickly shook her head, showing surprising maturity. “I want to wait for Ethan to wake up. We can buy it for him.” Right. Her mind was completely fixated on Ethan now; she had no appetite for treats. I patted her head gently and didn’t push it. After I got my arm bandaged, my mother-in-law, Carol, and my sister-in-law, Sarah, rushed into the hospital. They frantically asked about Ethan. When I told them the truth, Carol grabbed my arm, her voice cracking with desperation, “Why didn’t you save your son?! Why didn’t you save my grandson?!” I just stared back at her meltdown, expressionless, saying nothing. 2. “He’s our family’s only grandson! Do you want us to have no one to carry on the name?! Amelia Stern, if anything happens to my grandson, I’ll never forgive you!” I finally spoke, my voice eerily calm. “It all happened so fast. I could only grab one of them.” Sarah, Mark’s sister, shoved me, her eyes blazing red. “Amelia, are you crazy?! Why is Ethan the one in there?!” I looked at her losing control and gave a cold smirk. “Who did you think it should be? Chloe? Could you stand it if she were in there? She’s your daughter.” “You!” Chloe squeezed between us, hugging Sarah’s legs tightly, crying out, “Mommy, don’t pull Auntie! Auntie’s hurt! Auntie’s hurt!” “Get off me!” Sarah kicked Chloe away. I reacted instantly, scooping her into my arms. The anger I’d been suppressing finally surfaced. I glared hard at Sarah, warning her, “Sarah, if you try that again, I won’t be so nice!” Both Sarah and Carol froze, stunned. In all the time they’d known me, this was the first time I’d ever spoken to them with such harshness. Just then, a doctor walking by sternly told us to keep quiet. That finally shut them up. While waiting for the surgery to end, mother and daughter huddled together, looking utterly terrified and anxious. It was almost funny to watch. I glanced down at Chloe’s downcast face, my heart clenching. I hugged her closer. “Chloe, are you hungry? How about Auntie takes you out to get something to eat?” Before Chloe could answer, Sarah shot me a venomous look. “Are you serious?! How can you even think about food right now?!” I swallowed my anger, my voice cold. “Ethan’s surgery could take hours. Are we all supposed to starve while waiting? Besides, isn’t Chloe your daughter? She’s hurt and scared too. Are you only concerned about my son and have no thought for her?” Sarah was speechless, her face flushed red with anger. Chloe gently tugged my hand. “Auntie, I’m not hungry. Let’s wait for Ethan to come out.” Out of consideration for Chloe’s feelings, I held back the harsher words I wanted to say. A little later, my husband, Mark, arrived. 3. “How is he? How’s the kid?” he asked, out of breath. Carol seemed to find her anchor, collapsing into Mark’s arms, sobbing, “Ethan’s still in surgery… it looks really bad… I don’t know if he’s going to make it!” “And your wonderful wife here,” she spat, glaring at me, “didn’t even save her own son. Cold-blooded, that’s what she is!” Mark turned to me, his expression dark with displeasure. “Amelia, what the hell happened?” Impatiently, I repeated myself again. “It happened too fast. I could only save one.” “Then why didn’t you save Ethan?!” “Why, why, why? Enough with the whys!” I looked at their faces with disgust. “All you care about is Ethan! Doesn’t Chloe’s life matter? If Chloe were the one lying in there, would you even care?!” Just then, the doors to the operating room opened. Ethan was wheeled out. He was no longer in immediate danger, but his head injury was significant, and both legs were gone. He would need to be monitored and treated in the ICU. Hearing this, the Davis family completely fell apart. Carol and Sarah buried their faces in their hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Even Mark’s eyes turned red. While their attention was entirely focused on Ethan, I gently patted Chloe, who was crying silently. “Don’t cry, sweetie. Ethan’s going to be okay. Let me take you to get something to eat, alright?” She shook her head, wiping her tears. I tried a different approach. “Okay, then… how about Chloe keeps Auntie company while I eat? Auntie is really, really hungry.” Chloe glanced at her family, bit her lip, and nodded. I took Chloe to Pizza Hut and ordered a bunch of her favorite things. But the poor kid had no appetite, her little face clouded with worry. I wanted to comfort her, but I didn’t know where to start. From her perspective, seeing Ethan hurt so badly must have been devastating. “Auntie, why didn’t you save Ethan?” Chloe’s sudden question startled me. I paused, then gave a wry smile. “Didn’t Auntie tell you? I could only save one person.” “But… Ethan’s your real kid…” The little girl looked confused, and there was a hint of guilt in her eyes, as if she felt she’d stolen the health that rightfully belonged to Ethan. I dropped the smile, my expression becoming serious. “Then tell Auntie this: if I had saved Ethan and not you, would you be sad?” 4. Chloe thought for a moment. “If I lost my legs, I’d be really, really sad. But… if you hadn’t saved me, I wouldn’t be sad at you. Ethan’s your real son. You were supposed to save him first.” She was so young, yet her maturity was heartbreaking. Compared to Ethan, who was basically the same age – maybe born a few minutes earlier – but acted like a little terror. Before, I’d just thought Chloe was exceptionally well-behaved. I never considered what kind of environment must have shaped her into being so quiet and compliant. “Chloe, in Auntie’s heart, you are very, very important. Maybe even more important than Ethan.” The little girl looked up, surprised and confused. “Why?” “Because Ethan has so many people who love him. He doesn’t need one more from me.” Chloe paused, then looked down sadly, poking at her food. “Yeah… Mommy and Grandma Carol… they love Ethan a lot…” “So, you see, since so many people love Ethan for me, I should love Chloe more, right? Now, does Chloe want to show Auntie how much she appreciates that love?” Chloe nodded vigorously. “Yes!” “Then you need to eat your food, okay? No being sad. Don’t make Auntie worry, alright?” “Okay!” Whatever it took, at least the little girl started eating properly. Whenever she used to visit my house, she’d always eye Ethan’s snacks and toys with envy. When I took them both out, she’d watch Ethan ordering whatever he wanted, buying things impulsively, while she never asked for anything herself. She loved Pizza Hut. Every time I brought her here, her eyes would light up with undisguised joy. Back then, I could never understand it. Okay, Carol favored boys, that was obvious. But Sarah was Chloe’s mother. Why was she so harsh with her own daughter? For a long time, I assumed it was because Sarah was a single mom, projecting her anger towards Chloe’s father onto Chloe herself. That’s why she couldn’t love her properly. The Davis family was busy fussing over Ethan. I took Chloe home first to rest. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally. After eating, she quickly drifted off to sleep. Once Chloe was settled, I walked around the house, finally stopping by the window. My hands trembled as I lit a cigarette. It was residual fear, mixed with the overwhelming relief of surviving something… again. Who would believe that I’d already lived through this accident once before? The only difference was, last time, I saved Ethan.

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My son was prone to rage, a violent bully. Even as I lay dying, he was hitting me: “You old hag, who the hell do you think you are, trying to tell me what to do?” My young daughter threw herself over me, but it didn’t stop his fists: “Get off, you useless brat! Move, or I’ll beat you too!” Then I opened my eyes. I was back, one year earlier. I gently reminded my husband, “Remember to just give him whatever he wants, indulge his every whim. Otherwise, he might actually kill you, you know.” 1. The moment I opened my eyes, I saw my son frantically smashing things. As he wrecked the room, he screamed, “You old hag, if you don’t buy me that new PlayStation, get the hell out of my house!” My daughter was terrified, sobbing loudly. “Shut up or I’ll choke you!” he shrieked, grabbing a vase and hurling it. I quickly shielded my daughter. Ceramic shards hit my forehead, and blood instantly welled up. He didn’t even notice, just kept throwing things at me. I wiped away the blood, numbly cleaning up the mess. Then, I looked him straight in the eye and refused sternly: “No. I’m not buying it.” He blinked, stunned that I’d contradicted him for the first time, then exploded with rage: “Damn you, why won’t you buy it for me? Why the hell not!” I looked at my son’s face, twisted with hatred, murder flashing in his eyes, and my heart went cold. He was my firstborn, the Jones family’s golden boy, showered with affection since birth. My in-laws treated him like a precious jewel, spoiling him rotten. As a result, he grew up arrogant and aggressive. Every time I tried to set boundaries, my in-laws and my husband shut me down. “He’s just a kid,” they’d say. “He’ll grow out of it.” But if the roots are rotten, can the tree grow straight? In my past life, my own stupidity led to my miserable end. How could I have been so naive, believing he would magically change as he got older? How could I have believed my husband when he said every family needs someone to sacrifice, convincing me to become a stay-at-home mom? Letting his whole family treat me like the Jones’s maid. Even the child knew I deserved no respect. And now, this fifteen-year-old boy, already tall and strong, wanted to hit me again… Thinking of this, I dodged his incoming fist and slapped him hard across the face. “Because I’m your mother! You’re a student, you can’t be obsessed with video games!” He was stunned, frozen for a moment. Then he lunged at me, fists flying. “I’m gonna kill you today!” Quick as lightning, I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. “If I can’t control you, maybe we should both just end it!” He swallowed hard, fear flickering in his eyes. Pointing a shaking finger at me, he backed away towards the door. “Fine! Just fine! You wait! I’ll have my dad deal with you when he gets back!” He slammed the door behind him. I finally let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My daughter ran to me, crying. “Mommy, are you okay?” Her chubby little hands touched my bruised cheek, trying to soothe the sting. “Mommy, does it hurt?” Tears welled up in my eyes. “When Lily kisses it better, it doesn’t hurt anymore.” In my past life, after my son killed me, my daughter’s life was hell. Grandparents ignored her, Dad didn’t care, her brother bullied her relentlessly. She ended up an orphan, unwanted by everyone. This time, I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. 2. My husband’s call came an hour later. The second I answered, he roared, “Sarah, what the hell is this about you kicking Kevin out of the house?!” “He’s just a kid! So he wants to play some games, big deal! Did you have to make such a scene? Do you have any idea how hard I work, busting my ass day and night to support you, him, and that… other kid? And you’re still not satisfied! Can’t I even have peace of mind on a business trip?” I held the phone away from my ear, interrupting his tirade coldly, “If you’re on a business trip, then focus on your work. When you get back, we need to settle things between us.” The yelling continued on the other end, but I had already hung up. I used to have a steady career. He was the one who sweet-talked me into quitting, saying he’d handle the finances, and I should focus on the home. My in-laws supposedly came to help with the kids, but really, they just wanted me to wait on them hand and foot. On top of raising the children, I had to care for them too. I was exhausted every single day. When we disagreed on how to raise Kevin, their boundless spoiling drained me completely. Later, Mark convinced me to have a second child, promising that his parents would take over childcare afterward, freeing me up to go back to work. But after Lily was born, my in-laws changed their tune right outside the delivery room, calling her a “money pit” and saying the Jones family didn’t want a girl. From then on, I raised two children alone. Going back to work became a distant dream. My life revolved around my husband and kids. Going out meant school runs and grocery shopping. Over time, I stopped bothering with makeup or dressing up. Eventually, I became the “old hag” my husband complained about, and my son picked up the term, using it too. Not long after I hung up, I got a call from the neighborhood security. My son, Kevin, had gotten into a fight with another boy in the community park’s fitness area. He started it. As soon as I arrived, the other boy’s parent started yelling. “How do you raise your kid? He’s like some rabid animal, attacking people for no reason! My son didn’t even look at him, and yours just punched him! You think you can just bully people?” “Yeah, grandson! Let me see him again, I’ll beat the crap out of him!” my son snarled from the side. The neighbor was furious. “We’re calling the police! No settling this privately!” I bowed my head, apologized profusely, and promised to pay double for all medical expenses before they finally, reluctantly, let it go. Walking away from the security office, my son sneered at me, “Wimp. So what if we have to pay? Dad’s loaded. Like we can’t afford it. Should’ve beaten him harder!” “That’s disgraceful! Go home, now!” I yelled at him. He froze. Then he gave me a hard shove and stomped off towards home. Back inside, Kevin sprawled on the sofa and ordered me around, “I’m hungry. Go buy me Popeyes.” Looking at his arrogant face, treating me like his servant, I wanted to laugh bitterly. In my past life, he was always this defiant. I tried to reach him with love, gave in to his every demand, which only made him think I was afraid of his father and grandparents yelling at me. Now, it was clear. This child was beyond saving. “I don’t have any money. Ask your father.” First, I didn’t approve of him constantly eating fried chicken, soda, and burgers. Second, his attitude towards me was truly chilling. Kevin glared at me. “Dad gives you money for expenses! Go buy it!” Just then, the doorbell rang. It was my best friend, Brenda. She saw us staring each other down and looked surprised. “What’s wrong? Look how upset Kevin is.” “I want Popeyes, and the old hag won’t buy it for me!” Brenda immediately played peacemaker, pulling Kevin onto the sofa, cooing softly, “If Mommy won’t buy it, Auntie Brenda will.” With that, Brenda took out her phone, handed it to Kevin, and told him to order whatever he wanted. As Kevin ordered, he shot me a warning glare, daring me to object. He’d been overweight for two years already. The doctor said absolutely no fried foods, especially chicken and soda. I tried to enforce it strictly every day, but his father, grandparents, and even Brenda constantly snuck him extra treats. Two years of trying to lose weight, and he only got fatter. In stark contrast to Kevin’s selfish rebellion, my daughter Lily was a true sweetheart, well-behaved and adorable. I decided to ignore my son. I went with Lily to her room, helped her set up her drawing supplies, and while she was busy drawing, I went to the kitchen to start dinner. Kevin was gorging himself in the living room, practically draped over Brenda, praising her effusively. Then I heard him say, “Auntie Brenda, you should be my mom instead. I can’t stand that old hag anymore, she ruins everything!” Brenda giggled, covering her mouth. “What nonsense are you talking!” “It’s true! Auntie Brenda, please be my mom.” The spatula in my hand suddenly felt heavy, slipping slightly. A deep chill spread through my heart. For this marriage, for this son, I had done more than enough. Enough was enough. 3. Mark suddenly walked in. Kevin’s scowl vanished instantly, and he ran happily to hug his father. “Dad, you’re finally back!” Mark hugged Kevin back tightly. “Hey, buddy! Dad missed you like crazy.” “Daddy.” Lily left the dinner table too, wanting to greet her father, but Mark coldly pushed her away. My daughter’s lower lip trembled, and she looked at me with pleading eyes. I went over and carried her back to her chair. Father and son completely ignored this. Kevin pointed an accusing finger at me. “Dad, she wouldn’t let me have fried chicken and soda! And she hit me!” He pointed to his cheek. “It really hurts.” Mark shot me an angry glare, then handed the family bucket of chicken he was holding to Kevin. He said loudly, clearly for me to hear, “Eat up, son. Eat all you want. It’s my money she’s spending anyway. Who dares tell my precious boy he can’t have what he wants!” They say depending on someone else financially is hard. Mark proved it point-blank. He believed that as long as I asked him for living expenses, I had to obey his commands. He pulled Kevin over towards me, his tone commanding, “Apologize to your son. You went too far.” I replied firmly, “Absolutely not.” He roared at me, “If you don’t apologize, I’ll cut off support for you and the girl! I’ll only provide for Kevin!” So, the son belonged to the Jones family, but the daughter was solely mine. I hadn’t expected him to care for Lily, but hearing him say it out loud still stung. “Bullshit!” I retorted forcefully. Mark froze. It was the first time I’d defied him so openly in front of someone else, and with Kevin waiting for him to assert his authority. He became furious, raising his hand to slap me. “You rebellious bitch!” I looked at him coldly. “I want a divorce.” His raised hand stopped mid-air. He was stunned, unable to believe that I, who had always revolved around him, would initiate a divorce. Then, as if hearing a joke, he started laughing, the flesh on his face trembling. “Your parents practically disowned you, and you’ve got that brother living there now. Where are you gonna go if you divorce me? Do you even know your own worth?” “If you behave, apologize to Kevin, and beg his forgiveness, maybe I’ll give you one more chance.” I didn’t bother arguing. I pulled out the divorce papers. “I’ve already signed. Kevin goes with you, Lily comes with me.” His eyes flickered down to my signature, confirming I was serious. He sneered, “You’re the one asking for the divorce. Fine, but don’t expect a dime from me for you two.” “No problem.” Mark glared at me. Maybe my initiating the divorce wounded his pride. He laughed mockingly, “Talk is cheap. You think you can actually support that… girl… without me?” I said, “Why don’t you take both of them?” Mark fell silent for a moment. Brenda quickly interjected, “Sarah, what are you thinking? They say daughters are a comfort. You don’t want either of them? You’ll regret this later.” I stared straight at Mark, asking again, “I can’t afford both. Will you take them both?” The Jones family had always called Lily a “money pit”; they would never agree to take her. I was just calling his bluff. Kevin sneered at me, “Whoever had the useless kid can take her. The Jones family doesn’t raise useless kids.” Then, with an air of superiority, he added, “If you apologize to me right now, maybe I’ll feel sorry for you and ask Dad to give you some child support.” In that instant, it felt like a thousand needles were pricking my heart. Kevin was a carbon copy of Mark – arrogant, condescending, exactly like his father. In the last couple of years, Mark’s business had taken off, his office space getting bigger and bigger. Money had completely inflated his ego. Inflated it so much he thought I couldn’t possibly survive without this house, without him. In this home, I received zero respect. Mark was clearly pleased with Kevin’s performance. “Good boy. Dad will buy you the latest game console tomorrow.” Kevin’s face lit up immediately. He looked at me like I was an eyesore. “Dad, hurry up and sign the papers so she leaves! Let her take the useless kid. She’ll come crying and begging you later.” 4. Mark smirked cruelly. “Take the girl and get out, and I’ll sign.” I said, “Fine, I’ll take her. But you need to give me some financial compensation. How else am I supposed to raise her?” Perhaps afraid I’d drag things out, Mark didn’t hesitate much. He actually gave me a sum of money. “Okay,” I said. “From now on, if Kevin needs anything, you can’t come to me. Likewise, even if we end up begging on the streets, we will never come to you.” “You remember what you said.” Mark quickly signed the agreement, his fat trembling slightly. “Remember! Don’t come crawling back, even if you’re begging!” “The same goes for you and your son,” I shot back. My wonderful son sneered at me, “Just get lost already! Once you’re gone, Dad can take me to buy that game console.” Brenda stood by, putting on a show of trying to reconcile us. “Oh dear, why divorce? Surely you can work things out?” I gave her a cold, knowing look. In my past life, when I was heavily pregnant with my second child and started hemorrhaging, I called Mark to take me to the hospital. He said he was busy, told me to take a taxi. But then I saw Brenda’s social media post. A familiar pair of hands, a familiar watch. That night, I was alone in the hospital fighting for my life. Because they couldn’t reach him, my parents had to come and sign the consent forms for surgery. Afterward, Brenda came to visit me in the hospital. She gushed about the diamond necklace her “boyfriend” had given her that night, how he took her shopping, bought her designer bags, how they embraced on a bed covered in heart-shaped rose petals… For the sake of the children, I chose to play deaf and dumb. In public, I forced a smile. Behind closed doors, I cried constantly. The resentment festered inside me, unresolved. My daughter never even got a drop of breast milk because of the stress. I had failed my daughter. My husband and my best friend had been together for ages. My precious son thought Brenda would treat him well. He didn’t understand. Brenda was spoiling him rotten, setting him up for failure! He wasn’t her flesh and blood. Whether he became obese or terminally ill, what did it matter to her? As for Mark, that scumbag? Once he had new children with Brenda, would he still care about Kevin? But… it was none of my business anymore. Since Kevin didn’t want me as his mother, I didn’t want him either.

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I host a relationship advice stream. That night, I connected with a female caller. She said she’d fallen for someone, but he was married. It wasn’t until I clicked on her profile page, checking out her videos, that I realized the guy she was talking about looked disturbingly familiar. Wasn’t this mystery man my own picture-perfect, couldn’t-do-enough-for-me husband? 1 I’m a relationship advice streamer. Every night, I slap on a silly face filter and use a voice modulator to chat live with followers, helping them figure out their problems. Tonight’s caller was a regular, one of my long-time fans. But what she said blew up the chat and knocked me completely off balance. “I don’t believe in limiting myself. If I like someone, that’s all that matters.” “So, okay, I’m not technically the other woman yet, but I might be soon, and honestly? I don’t care. As long as I’m happy.” The chat immediately filled with question marks. People were seriously questioning her sanity. I couldn’t help but push back a little, pointing out that knowingly becoming the other woman hurts people. But instead of reflecting, she doubled down. “You can’t force feelings. It’s not like I’m demanding he marry me. Is it wrong to chase your own happiness?” What kind of twisted logic was this? “So, what if another woman came along and stole your husband? You’d be okay with that?” She paused for maybe two seconds before firing back, all self-righteous, “Yeah, as long as we split the assets fairly.” Of course. So, it really was about the guy’s money. Trying to sound romantic while being completely mercenary. She kept spewing her justifications in the stream, and meanwhile, the viewer count was skyrocketing. I quickly grabbed my phone and used my burner account to check out her profile. I had to see who this woman was. How could anyone be so shameless? Her profile pics showed her smiling sweetly, looking blissfully happy. The man next to her always had his back to the camera, never showing his face. The only identifying feature visible was on the back of his neck – four moles, forming a perfect little square. That pattern sparked a flicker of recognition, making my heart pound erratically. I scrolled through more of her posts. Always selfies of her, followed by shots of a man’s arm, his leg, other body parts. Never his face. Coincidentally, her IP address showed she was in the same city as me. After quickly hitting ‘follow’ from my burner account, I forced myself back to the stream, trying to pull myself together. The chat was a waterfall of comments. The woman was still talking nonstop, clearly pleased with herself, thinking she’d won me over with her “logic.” I looked at her profile picture and let out a cold, genuine laugh. “You know people are going to drag you for this. You know your morals are messed up. You’re blowing up a family and calling it love? Knowingly being the other woman? What kind of person are you?” Even then, she argued back, accusing me of using my platform to cyberbully her. I wasn’t having it. I laid into her with righteous anger, then decisively cut her connection. Virtual gifts flooded the screen. The chat was full of applause. I’ve been streaming for three or four years, and this was the first time I’d encountered someone so brazen about being the third party. After she was gone, I took a few more calls, but my heart wasn’t in it. All evening, I kept seeing flashes of them together, kept picturing those four damn moles. As soon as I could reasonably end the stream, I logged into my burner account and messaged her. I pretended to be a fellow mistress, complaining about how nobody understood our situation, telling her I felt a connection, like we were kindred spirits. It only took a couple of hours for her to start trusting me. She even started spilling details about the guy’s family situation, his age, his job. Married three years, no kids, a dynamic where the wife was the main breadwinner… Every little clue seemed to point in one direction. The man she was talking about was my own doting, perfect husband. Mark. 2: The Confirmation After chatting for a bit, I told her I needed to sign off and get some rest. Not long after, Mark came home. He immediately started giving me a shoulder rub, sweet as ever, even running water for me to soak my feet. He always said I worked too hard, that this helped me relax. Honestly, the idea of him cheating seemed impossible. Two years ago, when my grandpa was hospitalized, Mark was a rockstar. He was there constantly, helping out so much that even the doctors commented on what a devoted grandson-in-law he was. Every holiday, every birthday, he’d be at my parents’ place days early, planning meals, bringing thoughtful gifts for them. We never even fought. How could he be cheating? I stared at him, lost in thought. Mark seemed to notice my gaze and offered a small smile. His hand, still damp, lightly tapped my nose. “Looks like my wife is exhausted. You’re totally zoned out.” He sat beside me, pulling me into a hug. He reminded me our anniversary was the day after tomorrow, whispering he had a surprise planned. The next day, he took me to a high-end jewelry store bright and early. A salesperson approached us eagerly, a dazzling smile on her face. That face… It was the woman from my stream last night! Jessica! Her eyes flickered past me, landing on Mark beside me. I caught it out of the corner of my eye. Mark’s expression didn’t change, but the tiny muscle twitching under his eye gave him away. So, they definitely knew each other. Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I followed her into the main showroom. I kept my head down, pretending to browse the display cases, but I was watching them both like a hawk. They were chatting and laughing easily, completely ignoring me. I looked up. “Your name’s Jessica, right? You’ve been really helpful. Can I get your contact info? I’ll definitely come back to you next time I’m looking for jewelry.” She hesitated for a split second, then agreed. Later, I casually scrolled through her professional Instagram – clearly a work account. The latest post: Pushing for my sales target! Free stainless steel tumbler with purchase! Plus, you get me as your bonus. Attached was a cute, flirty selfie. So, Mark’s idea of an anniversary gift was actually just helping Jessica hit her sales quota! Fury turned into retail therapy. I pointed at several expensive pieces, racking up a hefty bill. Right there, in front of both of us, Mark had to play the big shot, emptying out his personal savings account to cover it. 3: The Alliance That night, I hopped back onto my burner account and messaged Jessica. She was practically gloating, bragging about how clueless his wife (me!) was, totally oblivious that she’d just helped Jessica hit her sales target. Called me an idiot. Playing the part of the envious fellow mistress, I asked what her next move was. Surely, she didn’t want to stay hidden forever? I fanned the flames: “I’m so jealous you actually get to see his wife! I keep pushing my guy to divorce her, but he just avoids the topic. I don’t even know if I should keep waiting.” Sure enough, less than two minutes later, Jessica sent a barrage of voice messages. She urged me to fight for “true love,” not to be scared off by society’s judgment. Back and forth we went, becoming “besties” who shared everything. Our little “True Love Alliance.” And Jessica got bolder. She started posting pictures of herself with Mark on her work Instagram more often. Still careful never to show his face, though. I silently ‘liked’ every single one. 4: The Confrontation Today was our wedding anniversary. Mark had ordered a cake first thing in the morning, promising to cook me a special dinner when he got home from work. But by evening, he still wasn’t back. Then came the phone call. A sudden work emergency, he claimed. He had to work late, couldn’t make it home. He promised to make it up to me another day. I asked calmly, “Mark, are you absolutely sure you’re not coming home tonight?” I could hear frantic typing on his end. He was too “busy” to even really answer, just mumbled a few excuses and hung up quickly. My phone pinged with a notification. It was Jessica, messaging my burner account. Bragging. Saying her boyfriend ditched his boring wife to be with her, how incredibly romantic and sweet it all was. I knew how vile she was, but I played along, praising her boldness. Ever since that jewelry store incident, it was like Mark had gotten a taste of freedom and couldn’t get enough. He was becoming reckless. He came home less and less. Our arguments became more frequent. Jessica grew even more daring, sneakily snapping pictures of his back, posting them to her stories, then deleting them five minutes later. Completely disregarding me. Fine. If that’s how they wanted to play it, I’d just add fuel to the fire. I kept up the charade with Jessica on my burner account, feeding her fake updates about my own “affair.” I told her I’d confronted the wife, caused a huge scene, and that they were definitely getting divorced now. I filled my messages with fake joy about finally “making it official.” Predictably, Jessica couldn’t stand it. The next day, I was in the kitchen making lunch when I heard a sharp knock at the door. There she stood, flawlessly made-up, poured into a tight, dark gray dress that showed off every curve. Before I could react, she swept past me like she owned the place, plopped down on my sofa in her high heels. One shoe dangled precariously off her toes. “Hi. I’m Jessica. Mark’s partner. I believe we’ve met.” Her eyes scanned me from head to toe, a sneer playing on her lips. “Honestly, I don’t see what he ever saw in you. You’re nothing special.” “He doesn’t love you anymore. There’s no point in dragging this out. Just be smart, sign the divorce papers, and let yourselves move on with some dignity.” Seeing my silence, she grew bolder, launching into a speech about her deep, unbreakable bond with Mark. Anyone listening would think I was the homewrecker. “You’re just a housewife. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll hurry up and—” SMACK! I didn’t let her finish. I swung my hand with everything I had. My palm stung. A bright red handprint blossomed on her right cheek. Damn, that felt good. “You hit me!” Her eyes widened in fury, and she lunged at me, teeth bared. I’m taller, and her heels made her clumsy. I easily shoved her back onto the sofa and started letting her have it. Jessica shrieked that she was calling the cops. I stayed calm. “Go ahead. Call them. Let’s see who they arrest – me, or the woman breaking into someone’s home to harass them.” “If he really loved you, would he let you be the dirty little secret? You think you found true love, but you’re just a fling to him.” “A plaything. Something to use and throw away when he’s bored.” That hit a nerve. Jessica completely lost it. She swiped everything off the coffee table – ceramic vases shattered on the floor. I quickly pulled out my phone, recorded her meltdown, sent the video to our family group chat, and specifically tagged Mark. Less than twenty minutes later, he burst through the door, looking frantic. Jessica saw him like a lifeline, sobbing and throwing herself into his arms. I leaned against the wall, watching the drama unfold with a strange sense of detachment. Two whole years. Now, the mask was finally slipping. I was almost excited to see how he’d try to spin this. Mark shoved Jessica away. Sweat beaded on his forehead, darkening his shirt, even though the room wasn’t particularly warm. He scrambled over to me, hands raised in surrender, begging me to listen. “Chloe, it’s all a misunderstanding! There’s nothing going on between us, I swear!” Jessica screeched, “Didn’t you tell me you two had no feelings left?! That she’s just some online personality with a bit of money?! Look at her! How can she possibly compare to me?” “Jessica, shut up!” Mark yelled back. I stared at them, a dawning realization hitting me. So, in Mark’s world, our love had died long ago. It was true, my online career had taken off in the last couple of years. I’d even bought myself a new car. If Jessica hadn’t blurted it out today, I might never have known he was resentful, that he was after my money. Suddenly, the disgust washed over me. These two were repulsive. I started pushing them both towards the door. Suddenly, Jessica clutched her stomach, her eyes wide with alarm as she looked at me. The words she spoke next hit me like a physical blow. “Don’t touch me! I’m pregnant!”

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My boyfriend became a zombie. The moment we saw each other again, he lunged at me viciously… and hammered the zombie right behind me into oblivion! He quickly hid his blood-stained hands behind his back, not wanting me to see. He just looked at me with those wide, puppy-dog eyes, like a kid caught doing something wrong. 2 My boyfriend, Liam, was my best friend since kindergarten. He was always obsessed with being clean, but right now, he was covered in dust and blood. His usually neat hair was a total mess, his glasses were gone, and his eyes… they were glowing with this freaky, unnatural red light. I slowly walked towards him. He just stood there, looking completely lost. The virus had taken over his mind, but somehow, it seemed to strip away his usual guard, showing the real him underneath. Normally, you could never tell what Liam was thinking, but right now, his embarrassment was written all over his face. He suddenly turned, and I knew he was about to run. I darted forward and grabbed his shirt. He still tried to pull away, but I snapped, “Liam!” Ever since we were kids, me using his full name meant I was seriously mad, and he’d always, always drop everything to try and make me feel better. Even as a zombie, that hadn’t changed. But this time, his apology was in his actions. He stopped trying to run. I remembered I had some wet wipes in my backpack. I pulled one out and started gently wiping the blood and grime off his face. Liam obediently closed his eyes, letting me clean him up. His face was clean, so I started on his hands. But he’d clearly been wandering outside for a while. Some of the dirt was just too caked on; it would need a real wash. So, I brought him home. 3 It sounds completely insane, I know. I actually brought a zombie home. But he was Liam. My Liam, who would never hurt me. First thing I did when we got inside was double-bolt the door. Luckily, the outbreak hit in the evening about a month ago, so most of the zombies in our apartment building were probably trapped inside their own places. Still, you always had to watch out for surprise attacks – Survival 101. Door secured, I dug out some old clothes Liam had left at my place and led him to the bathroom. Turns out, even though some part of him was still human, he’d forgotten basic life skills. The blank stare he gave the showerhead told me everything I needed to know. This was going to be up to me. By the time we were done, he was spotless and fresh, and I was soaked to the bone, my face probably beet red. But I was still incredibly happy. My food stash at home was running low. I’d planned to risk a trip to the corner store downstairs today, maybe scavenge something. Instead, I found Liam. It was more than I could have hoped for. After a terrifying day, and being absolutely starving, I slept like a rock. Sometime deep in the night, I had a nightmare. I dreamed a zombie was biting me. I jolted awake and realized it was Liam, his arms wrapped around my neck, gnawing on my skin. He hadn’t broken the skin, just sort of… grinding, but I could see him swallowing reflexively. “Leo,” I whispered, using his old nickname, my hand gently stroking his hair. “Are you trying to eat me?” “Rrrgh!” Hearing my voice, Liam shuddered violently, pushed me away, and scrambled out of the bedroom. “Leo!” I chased him into the spare room. He was huddled in the corner, his tall frame curled into a ball, ferociously biting his own hand. Skin tore, but not a single drop of blood fell. He was hungry, wasn’t he? Hurting himself like this just so he wouldn’t hurt me? My nose stung, and tears welled up. I rushed to the storage closet. I remembered a gag gift a friend gave me for my eighteenth birthday – one of those weird, Hannibal Lecter-style muzzles. It was supposed to be a joke, but now… I didn’t want to use something like this on Liam, I really didn’t. But I couldn’t think of any other way to stop him from hurting himself. I found it and hurried back to the spare room. Liam growled at me. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t tell me what he wanted, but his red eyes were filled with desperation and pain, begging me to stay away. I ignored it. Stubbornly, I walked closer and knelt in front of him. I carefully fitted the makeshift muzzle over his mouth. Liam reached out, his cold, grayish thumb trembling as it brushed the corner of my eye. That’s when I realized I was crying. I stayed in the room with Liam all night. As the sky turned a dim gray, I went out onto the balcony, my heart heavy as I looked out at the world. Everything had changed. Completely. Zombies roamed free, pushing humanity into smaller and smaller corners. Despair hung over the city like a shroud. The streets were stained with dried blood, littered with gruesome reminders of what people had become. It was horrifying. I glanced to my left and saw Mrs. Henderson, my neighbor, standing on her balcony in a white nightgown, just staring blankly at the ground below. I called out her name. She turned, and our eyes met. I wanted to say something encouraging, like we usually did, find some words of comfort. But before I could speak, she gave me a small, sad smile, climbed over the railing, and jumped. 4 A swarm of zombies instantly converged on her broken body below, tearing it apart. I could almost hear the sickening crunch and squelch of their teeth. Swallowing back nausea, I looked up at the sky. It wasn’t the first suicide I’d heard about. Not by a long shot. I knew Mrs. Henderson had reached her breaking point. Her husband went out for supplies last week and never came back. Three days ago, her only son left too. I’d overheard him promising her over and over that he’d return, saying he was fully geared up and would be fine. Then… nothing. Silence. “Rrrroargh!” Liam was growling in the spare room. I knew he was starving, but we didn’t have any meat left. I didn’t want to die by his hands, but I couldn’t let him leave either. I went back to him, adjusted the muzzle, and took his hand, just like I always used to. “Leo,” I said, trying to sound normal. “Let’s go find some food, okay? Can you try really, really hard not to… eat people?” I took Liam to the big supermarket downtown. Before leaving, I bundled myself up – layers of clothes, and then wrapped myself in thick layers of old newspaper and packing tape. Crude armor, but better than nothing. This was my third supply run. I hated going this far, but the small convenience store downstairs had been picked clean ages ago. The big supermarket was my only hope. When the virus first hit, a lot of people fled the city, heading for safer zones. But some, like me, were too scared to leave home, hunkered down, and missed the first wave of evacuations. Now, we were just trying to survive day by day. I wondered if any more rescue teams would ever come back for us. Liam followed me obediently, staying close like a loyal shadow. He didn’t attack me, didn’t wander off. When we encountered zombies, I used my modified fire axe to take them down – aiming for the head. But the closer we got to the supermarket, the more zombies there were. I was starting to get overwhelmed. Just as I was dealing with one in front of me, another lunged from the side, clamping its jaws onto my lower leg. I cried out, looking down. It was just the top half of a zombie, dragging its guts behind it, clawing its way up my pants. I reached for the boning knife I kept tucked in my belt, ready to plunge it into its skull. Before I could strike, its head snapped sideways with a sickening crack. I looked up into Liam’s expressionless face. Zombies couldn’t show much emotion, but somehow, I felt his worry radiating off him. “Leo, I’m okay! Look!” I stuck my leg out for him to see. “See? This newspaper armor actually works! I stuffed cotton padding inside too. It didn’t even break the skin.” “Come on,” I said, patting his cheek. “Let’s go shopping!” I led him straight down to the supermarket’s basement level, where they usually kept the meat storage. There was still plenty of food down there. I took a deep breath and removed the muzzle from his face. It was incredibly risky – a starving Liam could easily turn on me. But I trusted him. I believed he wouldn’t hurt me, just like how, even as a zombie, he’d instinctively protected me moments ago. Holding my breath, I held out a piece of raw pork towards his mouth, my eyes filled with hope. Liam hesitated for a long moment, then leaned forward and took a bite. His face remained blank. I couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, but I saw his throat move as he swallowed. Relief washed over me, so strong I almost collapsed. I felt like I’d won the lottery. I offered him other things – raw beef, chicken. He ate them all. As long as it was raw meat, he seemed okay with it. I threw my arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time. His diet wasn’t limited to humans! There was hope! 5 Liam was different from the other zombies. Not just because he recognized me and could control his urge to attack me, but crucially, because he could eat raw meat. Other zombies didn’t seem to have either of these traits. My gut told me Liam’s uniqueness had to be kept secret. People don’t react well to anomalies, especially now. If anyone found out how different he was, they’d probably want to lock him up, study him… I’d seen enough movies and read enough books to know how that story goes. We grabbed as much meat and other supplies as we could carry and hurried back to the apartment building. As I reached our floor, I saw someone huddled by my neighbor’s door. He looked up sharply as I came up the stairs, then relaxed slightly when he saw it was me, slumping back against the wall. He was covered in dried blood and grime, looking like he’d just survived a major fight. I stopped, stunned. “Ethan…?” It was Mrs. Henderson’s son. “Sarah? Is my mom out? Why won’t she open the door?” My heart sank. Seeing his hopeful face, thinking about his mother’s desperate leap from the balcony… I didn’t know how to tell him. I remembered last year when he got into the state university. Just turned eighteen, so proud, his mom handing out little bags of candy at the building entrance, wanting everyone to share her joy. Now… this. God. Maybe he saw something in my face, because his expression started to change, hope draining away. “She went out, didn’t she…? Didn’t she? But I told her I’d come back! I promised her! Why… why didn’t she believe me…?” He started muttering to himself, pure panic taking over his eyes. “Your mom… she didn’t go out, Ethan…” His dull eyes flickered with a tiny spark. “I… I saw her this morning. She jumped from the balcony. She thought… she thought you weren’t coming back. I’m so sorry…” The words felt like stones in my mouth. Ethan froze. He stopped talking, just stared at the floor, his head bowed. I didn’t know what to say. Any words of comfort would sound hollow, useless. I thought he’d stay like that, lost in shock, but after a minute, he slowly stood up, picked up the makeshift weapon lying at his feet – looked like a sharpened pipe – and started walking towards the stairs, heading down. “Where are you going?” I called after him. His voice was raspy, broken. “Downstairs… to find my mom.

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My new roommate was a total phony. Whenever we were on our phones, she’d sneak up behind us, watching our texts. She’d always be the first to grab a bite of anyone’s snacks, but she’d hide in bed after lights out to eat her own. She never bought shampoo or body wash. It was always, “Can I borrow your body wash?”, “Can I use your shampoo?”, “Can I have some of your laundry detergent?”, and then, eventually, “Do you have any tampons I can use?”… I bought a MIUMIU bag, and she kept saying how much she loved it. A few days later, she bought the same one! Turns out, she switched my real bag with her fake one, then accused me of using a knockoff! We had a huge fight, and I demanded she give me back my bag. Instead, she cut my real bag to shreds! Furious, I went to the Resident Advisor (RA) to complain. The RA told her to pay me back, but she started spreading rumors behind my back that I was a prostitute and a mistress! She even leaked my phone number, so I kept getting texts asking how much I charged! I was livid. I grabbed her and demanded she clear my name. She just laughed and mocked me, saying: “You think you’re so rich? Showing off in front of me? What do you have to show off now? I can’t stand you! Why should you have a good life?!” I realized she was doing it on purpose. I pounced on her! We got into a scuffle, and we both fell out the window. When I woke up, I was back when she first moved into our dorm room… 1 “We’ve got a student transferring into this dorm. Make her feel welcome.” Our RA, Ms. Evans, introduced us to Brittany. She gave us a shy smile. “Sarah, can you help Brittany settle in? She’s new to the class, and she might need some help adjusting. You guys are in the same club, so it should be easy for you to get along.” I gave the RA a polite, but apologetic smile: “Sorry, Ms. Evans, I’m busy with my senior project right now. I don’t have time. Maybe Ashley and Brittany can hang out. The three of us are in the same club.” Last time around, Brittany spread rumors about me, and Ashley was right there to add fuel to the fire. I couldn’t figure out what I had done to make Ashley do that, stab me in the back like that. But whatever. Let the phony and the backstabber fight it out. Last time, Brittany and I had been pretty friendly, at first. We went to the cafeteria together. I’d save us a table, and she’d get the food. I told her I hated cilantro and to get anything without it. She came back with a cilantro chicken burrito! I asked her what was up. Did she forget? Brittany looked at me with big, innocent eyes. “I didn’t forget! But, Sarah, the cilantro chicken burrito is so good! Just eat the chicken, don’t eat the cilantro! It’s fine!” I had to go get another burrito. Later, I told her that Professor Miller wanted us to come to room 503 in the library at 5 PM tomorrow for a meeting. She blinked at me, all innocent, and asked, “Why does she want us to come at 5 AM?” I told her it was 5 PM. She almost started to cry. “It’s already 6! Why are you telling me now?” I took a deep breath and told her it was 5 PM tomorrow. She looked down and mumbled, “Okay.” I thought that was it, but a minute later, she looked up and asked: “What room did you say?” “503!” “In the library or the student union?” Me: … “The library!” I thought I was being clear, but she didn’t show up to the meeting. Professor Miller called her and told her to come. When she finally got there, she accused me in front of everyone of deliberately trying to exclude her and not telling her about the meeting! I was so mad. She was such a phony! A phony who couldn’t understand a word you said! After that, our relationship went downhill fast, and it ended with both of us falling out the window. This time, I’d just leave her to Ashley. Let those two bitches tear each other apart. 2 Like attracts like, and Brittany and Ashley hit it off immediately. Ashley helped her unpack, and they huddled together, gossiping and giggling. I figured they were just two birds of a feather, and they could keep all their drama between them. But Brittany was a phony through and through. She was impossible to deal with! Soon, everyone in the dorm was sick of her! Every night, she’d stay up until all hours, either watching TV or playing video games. And when she played games, she used one of those clicky keyboards, and it was so loud, it kept everyone awake. And she always got up at 3 or 4 AM to use the bathroom. The toilet flushed loud, waking up the whole dorm. Being woken up in the middle of the night sucked! It was hard to go back to sleep! We had to get up and go to class the next morning. How could we handle it? Me and my other roommate, Chloe, decided to have a talk with her. We tried to be nice and told her to keep it down at night. Brittany burst into tears. “Chloe, Sarah, if you have a problem with me, just tell me! You don’t have to do this!” Ashley chimed in, sticking up for her. “Yeah, come on, we’re roommates! Why are you being so petty? Brittany just got up to pee! It’s a human need!” Chloe and I looked at each other, getting even angrier. You’re not the one getting woken up every night! You sleep like a rock and snore! Brittany heard Ashley’s words and got even bolder. “Well, I haven’t said anything about you guys getting up at 7:30 in the morning, making all that noise and waking me up! We’re roommates, shouldn’t we be understanding of each other’s schedules?” WHAT?! We got up at 7:30 because we had to go to our early-morning class! Was that wrong? Chloe was speechless. I had a sudden sense of kinship with her. The argument went nowhere. Brittany even started dropping things on purpose when she got up in the middle of the night, making more noise! Chloe and I bought earplugs to try and deal with it. Chloe thought we should try to be tolerant. After all, we were roommates. But I knew Brittany was just going to get worse. The higher they rise, the harder they fall! I was just waiting for her to dig her own grave. 3 After about a month, it was time to pay the electricity bill. Usually, we just split it evenly. But of course, Brittany had to make a scene. “I’m not paying! I never turn on the lights in the dorm, and I charge my phone and laptop in class. I barely use any electricity. Why should I have to pay as much as you guys?” Chloe and I were stunned. “Didn’t you get any use of the lights? Didn’t you feel the AC?” Brittany rolled her eyes. “I didn’t ask you to turn on the lights and AC! You decided to do it. Why should I have to pay for it?” Chloe was furious. “Then leave when we turn on the lights and AC! Don’t enjoy the results of our money!” Brittany looked at us with her innocent eyes. “What do you mean? Are you trying to kick me out of the dorm? I paid my rent. Why shouldn’t I be allowed to stay here?” What kind of logic was that?! She was a phony! I was sure of it! I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Nobody’s trying to kick you out, but you need to pay your share! Are you that broke? Can’t you afford a few bucks for electricity? Are you a freakin’ beggar?” Brittany started crying even louder. “You’re insulting me! How could you say that!” I laughed. “I’m insulting you? Look at what you’re doing!” I stormed to the closet and pulled out the laundry machine. “Brittany! I’ve never met someone so gross! How long have you left your clothes in the washing machine! It smells, you know!” Brittany rolled her eyes and covered her face. “Waaaaa… You look down on me!” Chloe saw the situation in the washing machine and got mad too. Before Brittany came, we bought the washing machine all together! It was ok for her to use it without paying for it, but she didn’t even dry the clothes she washed, just letting them stink. And she also used our washing machine to wash her shoes! Ugh! It was too gross for us to use the washing machine anymore! Chloe couldn’t stand it anymore. She grabbed one of the wet towels in the washing machine, a towel that smelled gross. She used two fingers to drag it into Brittany’s bed: “Smell it! Smell this gross stink! Who would look up to you now?! Your mom would look down on you!” I looked at Brittany with contempt. “I agree. You didn’t even pay for our washing machine! Why we should let you use our washing machine!” Brittany shrieked that we were bullying her. She ran out of the room, causing the other students to watch us. I intentionally looked at the door and said: “Brittany! Don’t say we bully you! Who has ever heard of a roommate who doesn’t share the electricity? By the way, your clothes smell! You let them rot in the washing machine!” Last time, everyone trusted Brittany and complained about me. But this time, I took the first step and made everyone know what kind of guy Brittany was! 4 Ashley must have said something to her. Brittany came back as if nothing had happened. She didn’t act politely. She still focused on our stuff. I knew that she did this, so I hurried to store my expensive Estee Lauder products. I put a bottle of SK-II product on my desk. I put hydrogen peroxide in the bottle. Let her steal it! Humph! Let her make her face ugly! But Chloe didn’t know what to do. She carelessly put her Clarins products on the desk. Brittany despised Ashley’s cheap skin-care products. Brittany started using the products Chloe bought and even used Chloe’s cleanser and toothpaste. Eww! She even applied Chloe’s cream on her feet! She used the hand that she used to rub the skin to apply the cream on her face! So gross! Last time, she must have done the same thing to me, so I was even more disgusted. Before I knew it, my face was closed to her foot skin. Yuck! Moreover, she was sharing the products she stole with Ashley! Ashley even used the cream that Brittany applied to her feet! Wow! Who were these garbage people? Did they even have a conscience? I laughed with anger. That’s why Ashley said bad things to me last time. Ashley even used the skin-care products that Brittany stole! They were so cunning! Last time, I killed Brittany, and I didn’t settle my account with Ashley! This time, they would never get away with this! I secretly took videos of her stealing the products and sharing them with Ashley. Then, I sent the videos to Chloe. 5 Chloe was furious. She couldn’t believe that Brittany was stealing our products. She pulled my hands and asked: “Is Brittany a beggar? Does she have a problem in her head? She stole my skin-care products and my toothpaste! Also, she used her foot to rub the skin, so gross! I will ruin her face!” She bought new products to replace the stolen ones and locked all of our skin-care products and wash-care products. When Brittany noticed that we locked our products, she even had the nerve to ask: “Sarah, Chloe, why did you lock your products? Who do you want to prevent?” I rolled my eyes. “Can you guess?” Brittany said: “Anyway, you are rich, so you should give us some, what’s the matter, you are stingy.” I said unhappily: “What about we are rich? Our money is earned by our parents! Our money is not from the wind! Our money is not for the thieves who take others’ products without permission!” Chloe agreed and said: “Some people’s faces are thick! They use other people’s products without permission. They use other people’s products as if their products were free! So gross!” Brittany kept silent. After a while, she came back with two bags of fruit tea. She gave us one cup of fruit tea: “I felt bad for that thing. I want to buy you some drinks so that you won’t be angry.” She gave us drinks of the top brands, each worth thirty dollars. She put straws into the drinks and gave us the drinks. “I want to say sorry to you, you can taste the drink, it is so delicious.” She added that there were grapefruits and strawberries in the drinks and that the drinks were super delicious. Brittany smiled and said: “There are grapefruits and strawberries in the drinks, and the drinks are super delicious, right?” Chloe’s expression changed. “Didn’t you say there were no citrus products?” Brittany winked her eyes: “Right, there are no oranges, but the grapefruits are not oranges.” Chloe’s face became red. “Quick, call 911. I am so allergic to citrus products, and I will be breathless! Quick call 911!” My face became pale. Severe allergic reaction will kill people! While I was calling 911, Brittany said: “Is that so serious? Is she acting? I only added some grapefruit juice. She is acting so scary, trying to deceive someone.” I was both angry and nervous and pointed at her nose: “If she has a problem, you will be in trouble!”

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My stepsister, Ashley, hit the jackpot landing Ethan Miller, the sole heir to the Miller Industries fortune. Invitations to their engagement party went out to every relative imaginable—except me. But on the big day, the party hit a snag. Things couldn’t get started because, apparently, the legendary Mrs. Miller, Ethan’s stepmother and the boss’s wife, hadn’t shown up yet. Suddenly, my phone was blowing up. Ashley was practically begging, pleading for me to grace them with my presence. Me? The person she deliberately left off the list? 1 It was the weekend, so I drove back to my dad’s place. Mom and Dad split when I was in high school. Two years later, Dad remarried. My stepmom, Linda, came with a daughter, Ashley, five years younger than me. Tonight, during dinner, Ashley dropped the bomb: she was getting engaged. And not just to anyone—to Ethan Miller, the Miller Industries heir. The engagement party was just a week away, at the most expensive six-star hotel downtown. Dad had actually mentioned it briefly when I called him a while back. He said Ashley—oh right, she changed her last name to match Dad’s not long after he married Linda—was dating this guy, a few years older than her. Rich family, powerful connections. Apparently, he treated Ashley like gold, chauffeured her everywhere, catered to her every whim. Just sickeningly sweet, according to Dad. “Seriously? I hear that hotel is insanely expensive. An engagement party there must cost tens of thousands!” Linda exclaimed. “Mom, Ethan’s the only heir to Miller Industries. A little money like that means nothing to him,” Ashley said, preening. “He just doesn’t want me to feel slighted. He wants it to be a huge, grand event.” “Oh, well, that’s very thoughtful of him. So, what do we need to do to help?” Linda asked. “Nothing, Mom. Ethan’s handling everything. I’ve already sent out invitations to all our relatives. You guys just need to show up.” “Well, isn’t that nice!” “Oh, and Mom,” Ashley added, “there will be a lot of guests. Ethan said to make sure everyone brings their invitation – it’s one per person – to keep out any party crashers. Remind Uncle Joe and everyone, okay?” Ashley and Linda were buzzing, chattering excitedly back and forth. Dad, quiet as usual, just sat there watching them, looking pleased. I thought back to what Ashley just said. All relatives got an invitation? Because I definitely didn’t get one. “Ashley,” I piped up, “what about mine? I didn’t get an invitation. Am I not family?” 2 Okay, truth is, Ashley and I never really got along behind the scenes, but we always put on a fake-nice act for Dad. She clearly wasn’t expecting me to call her out right then and there. Her eyes instantly welled up, getting red and teary. Total guilt trip mode activated. “Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry,” she stammered, her voice thick with fake remorse. “The guest list was just so long… I must have accidentally missed you. And now everything’s finalized, we can’t add anyone…” She bit her lip, looking all pitiful. “How about… how about Ethan and I take you out for a special dinner tomorrow? As an apology? Please don’t be mad. Or… or I could call Ethan right now and see if he can rearrange things?” She made a show of pulling out her phone, pretending she was about to call him. Linda jumped in immediately, grabbing Ashley’s arm. “No, no! We haven’t helped with anything for this engagement party. We can’t bother Ethan with little things like this now! He’ll get annoyed, and what if that makes things difficult for Ashley after they’re married?” Turning to me, Linda added, “It’s just the engagement party, not the wedding. A separate dinner sounds lovely.” Dad thought for a moment, then nodded. “Linda’s right, Sarah. It’s just the engagement. How about this? You can have my invitation. Linda and I can share one.” Ashley looked panicked at Dad’s suggestion. She quickly rubbed her eyes, putting on her best wounded-dove expression. It was clear she really didn’t want me there. I gave Ashley a long look, then turned to Dad. “It’s okay, Dad. You guys go ahead.” I forced a smile. “Like you said, it’s just the engagement. I can always go to the wedding.” “Exactly! See? Sarah understands,” Linda chimed in quickly, piling food onto my plate. Across the table, Ashley shot me a smug, triumphant glance. 3 After dinner, Ashley insisted on walking me downstairs. The second we were out of the apartment and a few steps away, she yanked her hand from my arm like I was contaminated and brushed off her sleeve. “Sarah,” she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain, “there was no mistake with the list. I deliberately didn’t invite you.” “Yeah, I figured,” I said calmly. Her little schemes were always painfully obvious, written all over her face. Only Dad, bless his trusting heart, couldn’t see through her and Linda’s act. My lack of reaction seemed to infuriate her. “Stop pretending, Sarah! God, I’ve always hated how you act so high and mighty, like you’re better than everyone. It’s disgusting.” She sneered. “So you got good grades and make a decent salary. Big deal. Who knows how you really make your money anyway.” I didn’t even bother looking at her. Arguing with her was a complete waste of emotional energy. I turned to leave, but she darted in front of me, blocking my path. “What, did I hit a nerve? Feeling guilty?” “I knew it,” she crowed. “I saw you got a new car recently. There’s no way you could afford something that nice on your salary so quickly. Who’s your sugar daddy?” I rolled my eyes. Unbelievable. The car was a gift—a wedding present from my husband. He’d wanted to get me a Rolls Royce, but I vetoed it—way too flashy. I picked out a modest Honda instead; it was just for commuting, the brand didn’t matter. But seriously? She thought I couldn’t afford a fifteen-thousand-dollar car on my own? Who did she think she was talking to? Dealing with idiots seriously tanks my mood. “Think whatever you want, Ashley,” I sighed. As I started to walk away again, something occurred to me. I stopped and turned back. “Hey, just double-checking… you’re absolutely sure you don’t need me at the engagement party?” She let out a short, sharp laugh. “Positive. Absolutely, one hundred percent positive!” “Okay then,” I shrugged. 4 After graduating college and landing a job, I moved out of Dad’s place. A few years later, I’d saved enough to buy my own small condo. I rarely stayed over at Dad’s—partly because I couldn’t stand being around Linda and Ashley, and partly because I didn’t want to make things awkward for Dad. Dad had told me once that Ashley had a rough childhood. Her biological father was a gambling addict. When he lost, he’d drink and take it out on Linda, hitting and yelling. He’d always be incredibly apologetic the next day, and Linda, being soft-hearted, could never bring herself to leave him. That might have gone on forever, but one night, he came home drunk after losing big. Ashley was just coming out of the bathroom, and he slapped her, hard, right out of the blue. She started screaming. Linda heard the commotion, saw Ashley crying, and was overwhelmed with guilt and pain. That was the final straw. She finally filed for divorce. After Linda married Dad, he learned about Ashley’s past and treated her really well, just like he treated me, his own daughter. Ashley seemed to adore Dad’s calm, gentle nature, always calling him ‘Dad’ affectionately. If it hadn’t been for that one incident, maybe we could have actually been a happy, blended family. But hey, at least Ashley and Linda were decent to Dad, even if Ashley and I didn’t get along. So, I mostly kept my mouth shut. 5 As Ashley’s engagement party approached, I found myself back at Dad’s more often. Ashley, clearly thinking she’d finally one-upped me by snagging a rich fiancé, needed an audience for her bragging. She’d get Dad to call me, saying she wanted to spend more time with her ‘big sister’ before getting married. Dad, naturally, fell for it and urged me to come over. I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I usually agreed. After dinner tonight, Ashley launched into another monologue about her oh-so-grand engagement party. “The hotel usually needs to be booked months in advance, but luckily, the Millers just made one call and sorted it out.” “My dress is custom-made by this exclusive designer Ethan found. Apparently, she only creates gowns for high society women.” “I told Ethan we didn’t need an engagement ring, but he insisted! It’s eight carats. He wanted to get something bigger, but eight is my lucky number, so we went with that for good luck.” “Oh, and here are some gifts we brought back from our trip abroad. For everyone!” Ignoring my obvious lack of interest, Ashley shoved a gift box into my hands, winking dramatically. “Go on, Sarah, open it! I picked this out especially for you.” I opened it. A set of skincare products. Judging by the minimalist, chic packaging, it looked like it came from one of those ultra-exclusive, bespoke skincare boutiques in LA or New York—the kind that analyzes your skin and creates custom formulas. I’d actually visited one with my husband during our honeymoon. Seeing me stare at the box, Ashley assumed I didn’t recognize the brand and adopted a slightly mocking tone. “Don’t worry, Sarah, it’s not some cheap drugstore stuff. It’s from a private custom skincare place overseas. I had it made just for you. It’s very expensive. There’s usually a long waiting list.” Linda winced visibly at the mention of ‘expensive.’ I quietly put the box aside and checked my watch, planning my escape in about ten minutes. “So, Sarah,” Ashley started, a sly glint in her eye, “you’re not getting any younger. When are you planning on getting married?” 6 Ugh, bad timing. Should have left right after getting the gift. Ten more minutes of this? Torture. Ashley waited expectantly for my answer, clearly ready to pounce. “I am married,” I stated simply. “You’re married?!” Dad practically jumped out of his chair, his eyes wide. “When did you get married? Why didn’t I know?” After getting settled in my career, I had legally separated my household registration from Dad’s (basically, handled my own affairs independently). I’d planned on telling Dad about the wedding soon, just hadn’t expected this ambush. I awkwardly explained things to Dad for a while. He knows I’m independent and wouldn’t rush into marriage lightly, so he eventually, reluctantly, accepted it. However, he insisted I bring my husband over to meet him within the week. Thinking they’d meet at Ashley’s engagement party anyway, I readily agreed. Dad seemed satisfied. Ashley, however, was not. I could practically see her gears turning. Her original plan was probably to flaunt Ethan’s connections and condescendingly offer to set me up with someone. My being married ruined her chance to show off her fiancé’s ‘generosity.’ Plan A foiled, she moved to Plan B. She actually asked me to be the one to ‘send her off’ from the house on the morning of the engagement party, claiming it was a tradition in ‘their family’ for the older sister to do it. Seriously? It was an engagement, not a wedding. What tradition? I refused. Predictably, Ashley started crying, wailing about how I didn’t consider her and Linda ‘real family.’ She was quite the actress, tears streaming down her face. It was her go-to tactic—weaponized vulnerability. And Dad, bless his soft heart, fell for it hook, line, and sinker. He agreed on my behalf. Unbelievable. Not invited to the party, but now I was expected to be part of the unpaid help! Ugh… whatever… 7 They called it an engagement, but the scale of it felt more like a full-blown wedding. I had to take a personal day off work for this – poof went my perfect attendance bonus. Thanks, Ashley. In the morning, I helped her try on her gown and sat through hours of makeup application. In the afternoon, I had to help her rehearse the engagement party schedule. She kept saying how many important people would be there and how everything had to be perfect. She wanted me to read the entire timeline to her, over and over. If I suggested she read it herself, the waterworks would start instantly, forcing the makeup artist to do frantic touch-ups. Me: … Are you kidding me… Fine. I read the damn schedule. After an exhausting day of catering to her every whim, it was finally time to ‘send her off.’ A fleet of luxury cars—Porsches, Rolls Royces, Maseratis—lined the street outside Dad’s apartment building. Nosey neighbors crowded around the main car, practically falling over themselves to compliment Ashley, gushing about how capable she was. Linda beamed, unable to contain her grin. To show off, Ashley handed out cash—like $50 or $100 bills—to every neighbor who came out. Even though it wasn’t huge amounts per person, with so many people, it added up quickly. And so, like a conquering queen, Ashley basked in the neighbors’ blessings and climbed into the fancy car, ready for her grand entrance. As the motorcade pulled away, the noisy apartment suddenly fell silent. It was just me. Finally. Peace and quiet. Bliss. I went back to my old room to relax. My phone buzzed with a text message. “Son’s engagement today. Why aren’t you here yet?” I typed back: “Nobody invited me.”

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The day I was supposed to leave for my study abroad program, my stepsister, Ashley—the one everyone thought was the real heiress until the truth came out—showed up at the airport out of nowhere. She threw herself on the ground in front of me, banging her head on the floor, begging. “Chloe, please! I did what you said! I went up to that godforsaken cabin in Appalachia, I dealt with those creepy mountain hermits, all ninety-nine days! Can I have the study abroad spot back now? Please?” My boyfriend, Ethan, the campus golden boy, immediately ripped up my plane ticket. Trip canceled, just like that. Then he arranged for me to be taken deep into the remote Appalachian wilderness – the real deep woods, miles from anywhere. No phone, no contact. He wanted me to experience what he thought Ashley had gone through, but worse. I survived out there for three years. Three years of being treated like an animal by the feral men who lived off the grid. They used me… used me until I barely felt human. I even lost a baby out there, a stillbirth brought on by the horror. The day Ethan finally showed up in a helicopter to get me, I overheard him on the radio, talking to someone back home. “Yeah, I know Ashley lied,” he said, his voice tinny through the speaker. “She never went to Appalachia, never saw any ‘hermits.’ But if I didn’t play along, she wouldn’t have gotten that scholarship slot. Besides, Chloe… she’s the actual daughter, the one inheriting everything. Missing one semester abroad? It’s nothing to her in the long run.” He paused. “Look, once I get her back, I’ll propose. I’ll make it up to her.” My heart turned to ice. I strapped on an emergency parachute I found stashed away, wrenched open the cabin door, and jumped. “I’m not going back,” I screamed over the wind. “Just leave me here in the mountains!” Ethan lunged, grabbing my hand, his face a mask of panic, begging me to come back. … The roar of the helicopter blades was deafening, the wind tearing at my ragged clothes. I instinctively tried to duck behind a tree, but Ethan grabbed my wrist, hard. His face was tight with anger as he dragged me towards the chopper, not caring as branches scraped my skin raw. “Didn’t you cry and beg me to come get you? What’s this stunt now?” His angry voice triggered something deep inside me. Almost automatically, out of pure muscle memory from the past three years, I dropped to my knees in front of him, ready to beg for mercy. Ethan froze, his expression darkening. “Chloe, for God’s sake! It’s been three years, haven’t you learned anything? Do I have to force you to leave?” I looked up at him blankly. The name ‘Chloe’ sounded strange, unfamiliar after so long. Out there, they didn’t use my name. They called me… things. Treated me like property, something to use whenever they felt the urge. At first, I fought back. Used sticks, rocks, anything I could find. But fighting only earned me worse beatings, bites… They tied me up with the livestock sometimes. When winter hit hard, they treated me like emergency rations, taking pieces… drinking my blood. Their needs were constant, brutal. Hours of torment, every single day. Afterwards, I’d often be bleeding, my whole body aching like I’d been run over by a truck. Months into it, I delivered a stillborn baby. It looked like a tiny infant, but… the memory is a blur of pain and horror. Ethan gave me a rough shove, his patience clearly gone. Without thinking, I pulled off my tattered jacket, exposing myself. When he just stood there, staring, I instinctively reached for his belt buckle. He shoved me away violently, his face turning purple with rage. “Chloe! Have you lost all sense of decency?!” he yelled. “Just three years! Have you forgotten what shame even is?” His shouting stunned me. I pressed myself against him, desperate. “I’m sorry! Whatever you want, I’ll do it!” That seemed to ignite his fury. He grabbed my throat, his eyes blazing. “Chloe, when did you become so… cheap?” His fists clenched, his teeth grinding. It terrified me. Images of the men in the woods flashed through my mind – the beatings, the violation. I scrambled backwards, shaking, my face paling. “Don’t hit me! Please, don’t hit me! I’ll do anything, just don’t hit me…” My voice was thin, trembling. “Whatever makes you happy, I’ll do it.” The terror washed over me, suffocating me with helplessness. He squinted, studying me with suspicion, but anger quickly took over again. “Stop acting!” he snapped. “I know you hate me for leaving you in this hellhole, but playing the victim won’t work!” “Weren’t you always so high and mighty? Looking down your nose at everyone? Now look at you, acting like a bitch in heat!” He sneered, a cruel twist to his lips. He wasn’t wrong. Before all this, I was proud, maybe even arrogant, thanks to my family’s name and money. I expected the best, even in a partner. Ethan had seemed perfect then. But after three years of being treated like less than human in those mountains, pride was a luxury I couldn’t afford. I remembered when I first got stranded. I frantically called Ethan on the cheap burner phone I’d had, begging him to help me. But the call connected, and I heard a woman’s soft sobbing. Ashley. “Ethan,” she sniffled, “are you sure about this? Leaving her out there… isn’t it too much?” Then Ethan’s cold voice. “You’re too soft, Ash. After everything she did to you? You’re still defending her.” “I’m just teaching her a lesson. When she finally admits she was wrong, I’ll bring her back.” Ashley sniffled again. “Maybe we should just forget it? I already forgave her, really.” “She ruined your reputation, almost cost you everything! What she did… she’ll pay for it, tenfold,” Ethan growled. “Baby, stop crying now, we’ve got better things to do…” I clutched the phone, listening in horror as the sounds turned intimate, unmistakable gasps and moans filling the silence. My world shattered. Soon after, the phone died, cutting off my last link to the outside world. “Chloe, I’m warning you,” Ethan snarled now, pulling me back to the present. “My patience is running out.” He hauled me to my feet and shoved me into the helicopter. “Enough with the drama. Come home. But if you ever try to hurt Ashley again, don’t think I won’t throw you right back into this wilderness!” 2 I knew Ethan was my only ticket out of this nightmare, so I didn’t resist anymore. I just shut down. He frowned, clearly disgusted, and waved over the paramedic traveling with them. “Check her out. I want to see if she’s really hurt or just putting on a show.” He glared at me. “Chloe, I’m warning you, don’t think playing pitiful will get you off the hook.” “You will apologize to Ashley. Properly. Or I swear, I’ll kick you out of this helicopter mid-air. You don’t want another three years out there, do you?” The mere thought sent a violent tremor through my body. I huddled, shaking like a leaf. But when the paramedic approached, I flinched away violently, clutching my ragged jacket, refusing to let go. He was rough, ripping the fabric, pulling out clumps of my hair in the process. I hadn’t bathed properly in years, living in filth with animals. As my clothes came off, a foul stench filled the small cabin. My body was exposed – a roadmap of scars from whips, bites, and God knows what else. My lower body was almost entirely covered in ugly, raised scars. There wasn’t an inch of smooth skin left. Even the paramedic looked stunned, his hands trembling as he tried to examine me. “Mr. Thompson,” he said hesitantly, “Ms. Vance’s injuries are severe. She needs immediate hospital treatment.” Ethan’s eyes were cold, dismissive. “She’d do anything to get my sympathy,” he cut the paramedic off impatiently. “Don’t fall for her little pity party.” The paramedic shut his mouth, but his eyes held a flicker of pity as he looked at me. Ethan pinched his nose against the smell and tossed a spare jacket at me. “Three years, and you haven’t learned a thing. Still resorting to cheap tricks like faking injuries.” He scowled. “Don’t try any funny business. I’m not soft-hearted like Ashley.” His icy stare felt like a threat. Misinterpreting it, convinced he was about to hit me, my body reacted on instinct. I scrambled towards him, pressing myself against his legs, trying to appease him the only way I knew how anymore. I felt Ethan’s body go rigid. His neck flushed red with fury. He ripped me off him, his voice tight, teeth grinding. “Chloe! What is wrong with you? You’re acting like a bitch in heat!” My eyes were blank. I felt no shame, only fear of the blow I expected to follow. Seeing my lack of reaction seemed to infuriate him even more. “You almost destroyed Ashley’s life! And you have the nerve to stand there playing dumb?” He grabbed my arm. “Let’s go! You’re going to apologize to her. Now!” He dragged me into the main cabin area. Ashley was sitting there, pretending to read a book. The moment she saw me, she unbuckled her seatbelt and rushed over, bursting into tears. Her eyes, full of fake sympathy and pity, scanned my ruined appearance. “Oh, Chloe! Sister! It’s all my fault,” she sobbed, clinging to me. “If Ethan hadn’t been so determined to stand up for me, you wouldn’t have suffered out there in the wilderness.” She dabbed at her eyes. “He wouldn’t let me come get you, you know. I wanted to, so badly!” She choked back another sob, burying her face in her hands. Seeing my numb, unresponsive state, a flicker of triumphant satisfaction crossed Ashley’s face before she could hide it. As soon as Ethan stepped away to talk to the pilot, her mask dropped completely. “Those rescue messages you kept trying to send Ethan?” she whispered venomously, a smirk playing on her lips. “I deleted every single one. He never saw them.” Her eyes glittered with malice. “So, tell me, dear sister, how did it feel? Being ‘entertained’ by those charming mountain men?” I stared at her, disbelief warring with the dawning horror. Why? Why would she do this to me? Before I could even form the question, Ashley suddenly slapped herself across the face. Hard. She immediately started crying again, clutching her cheek, looking utterly pathetic and wronged. “Sister, I know you blame me!” she wailed, just loud enough for Ethan to hear. “Hit me, yell at me, I deserve it! But did you have to hit my face? I have that performance next week! Are you trying to ruin my career too?” Ethan spun around at the sound. Seeing the red mark blooming on Ashley’s cheek, his face hardened instantly. He strode over and backhanded me across the face, sending me sprawling to the floor. My head exploded with white noise, a loud ringing in my ears. “Chloe, are you insane?!” Ethan roared. “If you won’t learn your lesson, then I’ll teach it to you myself!” He ripped the silver chain from around his neck, wrapping it tightly around his knuckles. He clenched his fist and started walking towards me, his face a mask of cold fury. 3 Half of Ethan’s face was lost in shadow, making him look terrifyingly like the men from the woods. Their faces swam in my memory – eyes gleaming with predatory light, tearing at my clothes while I screamed, lashing me with thorny branches just to watch me bleed. My terrified cries only seemed to excite them more. Like a cornered rabbit, I scrambled behind a seat, trembling uncontrollably. “Don’t hit me! Don’t hit me! I’m sorry! I know I was wrong!” Driven by pure terror, I ripped off the jacket he’d given me, kneeling on the floor and instinctively arching my back, presenting myself in the degrading way they had trained me to. Ethan’s face contorted with disgust and rage. He kicked me hard, sending me tumbling sideways. “Have you got absolutely no shame left?!” he yelled, his voice cracking. Of course, I knew shame. But could shame feed me in the wilderness? Could it stop those brutes from beating me? He grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back and slamming it against the armrest of the seat. Again. And again. Sticky warmth trickled down my forehead, blurring my vision with blood. Pain flared through me. Looking up at Ethan’s furious, contorted face, tears finally started to well in my eyes. I remembered when we first got together. He wouldn’t let me suffer the smallest discomfort. He took care of everything, even silly things like putting on my socks for me before we went out. I used to tease him, asking if he was trying to turn me into a helpless doll. He’d sworn then, so sincerely, that he didn’t care if I became helpless; he’d happily spend his life devoted to me. But everything changed when Ashley appeared. She stole my parents’ affection, then she stole the man who claimed to love me. And then she orchestrated three years of hell for me in that wilderness. The paramedic from the front cabin rushed back and pulled Ethan off me before he could do more damage. Ethan glared down at me, breathing heavily, and let out a scornful laugh. “Don’t think playing dead will save you.” He spat the words out. “You made your mistakes, and you will pay for them. Don’t think you can trick your way out of it.” He dragged me towards the back where the paramedic had his equipment set up. But the sight of the examination table and the metal instruments sent a fresh wave of panic through me. I started screaming, fighting him. Ethan cursed and slammed me down onto the narrow bed, holding me there while the paramedic tried to examine my legs. It felt just like before. Those men in the woods, tying my arms and legs with vines, spreading me out like an animal sacrifice for their amusement. In the winter, they loved stripping me naked and forcing me to crawl in the snow, bleating like a sheep. If I moved too slowly, they’d whip the soles of my feet raw with thorny sticks. My screams were like fuel to their cruelty. Sometimes they used sharp rocks, other times rough, splintery branches… inside me. They wouldn’t stop until I was barely conscious. Slowly, piece by piece, they had broken me, tamed me like a wild animal. I learned not to fight back, just to endure, hoping it would lessen the pain. “Are you faking this, or are you really sick?” Ethan growled, pinning me down. “The doctor will find out.” My body wouldn’t stop shaking, which Ethan clearly took as a sign of guilt. “If I find out you’re faking,” he hissed, his face close to mine, “I’ll make you regret it!” His sudden shout terrified me. I tumbled off the bed, scrambling to his feet, banging my head on the floor, begging for mercy. When he didn’t immediately strike me, I dared to reach out, touching his pant leg, looking up with pleading eyes, trying to appease him. He seized my wrist, his grip like iron, threatening to crush the bone. “I knew it! You are faking!” he snarled. “You’d even pull this crap just to get me to forgive you!” Pain shot up my arm, cold sweat breaking out on my skin, but I only dared to whimper softly. Ethan flung my hand away, but his voice softened slightly, surprisingly. “Look, I know you nearly ruined Ashley’s life. I know you’re scared I’ll punish you, so you came up with this ‘crazy act’ routine.” He took a breath. “Just let the doctor check you out. Apologize properly to Ashley, and… I’ll still treat you like my wife.” He pulled me back onto the bed. Ignoring my desperate cries, he and the paramedic worked together, strapping my arms and legs down securely. The paramedic examined me for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he stepped out, his brow furrowed, looking grim. “Mr. Thompson, the results are in…” Ethan was instantly alert. “Well? Is she faking?” “Sir,” the paramedic said slowly, choosing his words carefully, “Ms. Vance has suffered severe psychological trauma… PTSD. That explains her… erratic behavior.” He hesitated. “And the scars on her lower body… they’re consistent with… with bite marks. Human bite marks, sir. Torn flesh.” He swallowed hard. “There’s also severe internal tearing and infection… consistent with repeated, brutal sexual assault…” The words hit Ethan like a physical blow. He just stood there, frozen, staring towards the curtained-off bed where I lay, his face utterly stunned, disbelieving. 4 “How could she…” Ethan whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with dawning confusion. He seemed to be questioning everything. But then, just as quickly, a cynical laugh escaped him. “Chloe’s always been manipulative. She’s too calculating to let herself get really hurt.” His voice hardened again. “This has to be another act. A desperate ploy to make me feel guilty.” He ripped back the curtain separating the examination area, his eyes narrowed, sharp as knives. “If I find out you lied to me about this, Chloe…” His words died in his throat as he saw me. Really saw me. I lay there, exposed on the narrow bed. The lower half of my body was a ruin of scar tissue, purpled and white, completely covering the skin. The edges of some scars clearly showed the jagged pattern of teeth marks. Near my inner thighs, the skin was raw, inflamed, weeping a mixture of blood and greenish pus. Even Ethan, with his anger and coldness, couldn’t help but recoil, sucking in a sharp breath. The sight was horrific. “How…? How did this happen?” he stammered, looking genuinely shaken. “I just left you in the mountains for three years. That’s all! And I told that park ranger, Mike, to keep an eye on you, make sure you were basically okay! How could you end up like… like this?” The Appalachian backcountry is vast and dangerous. Even experienced hikers with full gear get lost or injured. Sending me out there alone, a city girl with nothing… what did he think would happen? And as for the ranger… Mike… Just then, the walkie-talkie on Ethan’s belt crackled to life. “Mr. Thompson? Hey, uh, why’d you take that little piece back with you?” The voice was rough, familiar. Chillingly familiar. Static hissed, but I knew that voice instantly. It belonged to Mike, the ranger Ethan had supposedly told to “look after” me. He was the one who’d zap me with a cattle prod whenever I got too close to the edge of the territory, trying to find a way out. Once, I fell to my knees, begging him to just get a message to Ethan for me. He just grinned, showing yellow teeth, and unbuckled his belt in front of his buddies. “Maybe if you take real good care of me and the boys first,” he’d leered, “I might think about it…” I tried to run, but his men surrounded me. They dragged me into a dark shed… I was bleeding heavily when they finally let me go. Mike’s voice now, on the radio, was laced with a slimy attempt at camaraderie. “Mr. Thompson, sir, you told us to give that hot little thing some ‘special attention,’ make her learn her lesson, right? Me and the boys, we put in a lot of effort, yes sir.” He chuckled darkly. “She was a feisty one at first, I’ll give her that. Bit one of my guys bad, even after we broke a couple of her fingers.” He laughed again. “But she’s real obedient now. Real well-trained. Does whatever you tell her. Been real… fun having her around.” The walkie-talkie crackled with Mike’s self-satisfied laughter. His ugly, leering face floated in my mind’s eye, refusing to leave. The color drained from Ethan’s face. His hand holding the radio started to tremble. “You… you did what?” His voice was a strangled whisper. “Sir?” Mike sounded confused. “Wasn’t that the plan? You said she framed Miss Ashley, deserved whatever she got out here, left to rot?” Ethan lowered his voice, speaking into the radio, but his eyes were ice-cold, staring into nothing. “Actually,” he said, almost to himself, “I knew Ashley was lying. She never went to Shennongjia, never saw any wild men.” He took a shaky breath. “But if I didn’t go along with it, Ashley wouldn’t get that study abroad spot. And Chloe… she’s the real heiress, set for life. Missing one little trip abroad means nothing to her.” He sighed, a ragged sound. “Forget it. Once I get her back home, I’ll propose. Marry her. I’ll make it up to her then.” My head snapped up. I stared at Ethan’s back, the tiny spark of hope I hadn’t even realized I was holding onto instantly extinguished. It wasn’t just negligence. It was deliberate. Calculated. While everyone was distracted by the radio conversation, I moved. Quick and silent. I grabbed the emergency parachute pack I’d spotted earlier, fumbled with the straps, pulled it on. With every ounce of strength I had left, I threw open the helicopter door. Ethan whipped around, his eyes wide with terror. “Chloe! What are you doing?!” My heart felt like a lead weight. With a final, desolate look back, I jumped. “I’m not going back!” I screamed into the wind shear. “Just leave me in the mountains!”

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After college graduation, my dad wanted me to take over his company. Problem was, I had zero real-world experience and was terrified I’d run it into the ground. I talked it over with Dad, and we came up with a plan: I’d go undercover. Apply for an entry-level job at his company like any normal person, learn the ropes for six months, get some experience, and really see what makes the place tick from the inside. So, I dragged my boyfriend, Luke Fisher, who also majored in business management, along with me to apply. Let’s be real, people can be super materialistic these days. Guys often chase girls based on their family connections, specifically targeting rich girls. I was worried Luke might be one of those guys – only interested in what I had, not who I was. When Luke first asked me out freshman year, I spun a little white lie. Told him my parents were just regular folks, nothing fancy. Since turning eighteen, I’d been financially independent anyway, never asking Mom and Dad for a dime. I paid my own way through college working holidays and summers – tutoring, waiting tables at Starbucks, you name it. Whatever I could do to earn it myself.

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