Category: English

Three years into my marriage with Michael, my periods just… stopped. Then, this woman shows up at my door, makeup caked on, hand possessively on her belly, chin tilted up like she owned the place. She shoves a stack of divorce papers at me like she’s doing me a favor. “Mike told me he’s gonna marry me. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get your stuff and get out!” Two months later, in court. I clutched the divorce decree, a tight smile on my face as I looked at Michael and Jessica. “Excuse me, but could you please get your trash off my property as soon as possible?” Rewind a bit. For the first two years I was married to Michael, getting pregnant was my full-time job, on top of my actual job. Chinese herbs, Western medicine, fertility clinics – you name it, I tried it. Nothing worked. God wasn’t listening, or maybe just didn’t care. Then came year three, and boom – menopause, basically. At the doctor’s office, staring at the lab report, the number practically screamed at me: AMH 0.5. The room spun. It felt like my world was ending. Michael’s mom is… well, let’s just say she’s from a small town with very traditional values. Carrying on the family name is everything to her. Michael’s her only son, the golden child who clawed his way out of poverty, got a college degree, and landed a decent government job here in the city. She poured everything into him. He was her everything. Now, Michael had the respectable job, the nice wife, the house in the suburbs… everything except a kid. His mom never let us forget it. Little comments here and there, getting louder over time, about needing a grandchild. Honestly, I hadn’t planned on rushing into kids, but Michael couldn’t handle his mom’s constant nagging, so we started trying. Me? I’m an OB/GYN. I bring dozens of babies into the world every week. I know better than anyone what a huge responsibility a child is. It’s not a whim; it’s a lifetime commitment of love and care. So, we decided. We tried. And tried. Nothing. His mom always acted like it was my fault, giving me the cold shoulder whenever she visited. Michael, to his credit back then, would try to smooth things over. He’d comfort me in private, buy me little gifts, cook dinner sometimes. I appreciated it. It made swallowing handfuls of fertility drugs a little easier. Turns out, his mom was right all along. It was me. 2 That night, I got home and tried to keep it together. I placed the lab report on the kitchen table, my hands shaking slightly. “What’s this?” Michael asked, looking confused. “My test results.” The words “test results” were like a trigger for his mom. She practically lunged across the table and snatched the paper before Michael could even reach for it. “AMH 0.5? What the hell does that mean?” Michael’s face paled. He’d been to enough doctor’s appointments with me to pick up some of the jargon. “It means her egg count is practically zero! She can barely get pregnant!” His mom’s voice screeched, confirming his fear. “That’s right,” I said, forcing myself to sound calm, though the lump in my throat threatened to choke me. “I can’t have children.” “I knew it!” She jabbed a finger towards my face. “My Michael is perfectly healthy! How could he not have kids by now? It’s because of you, you cursed luck!” Her voice dripped with venom. “Honestly, even a rock in a warm bed could probably hatch something after three years! What’s wrong with your womb?” “I told him you were damaged goods! See? Damaged!” Her words were getting nastier, more personal. Michael finally stepped in. “Mom! That’s enough. Sarah feels bad enough already!” I grew up comfortably middle-class, maybe not rich, but definitely sheltered by loving parents. I’d never had anyone talk to me like that, so raw and cruel. Tears welled up despite my best efforts. “What are you doing? Getting too big for your britches now?” she snapped back at Michael. “Forgot who starved and scraped so you could go to college?” She always held that over his head, convinced I’d turned him against her. “I told you not to marry her from the start! And now look! Can’t even give me a grandchild!” “Bottom line, you have to divorce her! Our family name means something back home! Marrying a woman who can’t have kids? How can I show my face? Do you want our family line to just… end with you?” Her furious rant silenced Michael. He knew exactly how much she’d sacrificed for him, collecting cans, working odd jobs, anything to keep him in school. That guilt was a powerful weapon. “Sarah,” Michael turned and took my hand. His felt clammy. “Mom’s just upset. I’m not going to divorce you. Don’t worry.” I squeezed his hand back, clinging to that shred of hope, my eyes probably showing more love than he deserved. 3 The next few weeks were a blur of internet searches and consultations with colleagues at the hospital. I desperately looked for any way to boost my AMH levels, but it was hopeless. There was only one path left: IVF. In Vitro Fertilization. Problem was, we’d just bought the house, sinking every penny we had into the down payment and taking on a massive $400,000 mortgage. IVF wasn’t cheap. There were different levels, different protocols. I wanted the best chance, the most expensive option – tens of thousands of dollars. I didn’t want my issue to compromise the health of our potential child. I just wanted a healthy baby. I talked it over with Michael. Between my salary and his government job, we brought in about $15,000 a month, but after the $5,000 mortgage payment and other bills, there was no way we could afford a huge IVF bill upfront. I suggested we ask his mom for a loan. I knew Michael sent her money every month; I just pretended not to notice. Who wouldn’t help out their own mother? When we brought it up, she hit the roof. “Absolutely not! I forbid it!” “Mom, Sarah just wants us to have a baby, give you that grandchild you want,” Michael tried to reason. “Ha! Don’t kid yourself. She’s just after the money you’ve been giving me!” She glared at me, suspicion etched on her face. She didn’t have a pension, just a small fixed income, so Michael’s monthly contribution was her lifeline. “Mom, that’s not true, I really just—” My defense sounded weak even to my own ears. “Michael, if you have any respect left for me, you’ll divorce her!” So, the loan idea died right there. And slowly, things started to shift with Michael. He was still acting gentle, but his words started carrying a subtle sting, constantly reminding me of my infertility. “Look, it is a fact you can’t conceive. Mom didn’t say anything untrue, she was just… blunt about it. You need to be more understanding.” “I still love you, you know. Whether you can have kids or not.” “Kids aren’t the most important thing. Having you is enough for me.” “We’ll save up slowly. We can wait a few more years for kids. Don’t put pressure on yourself.” “You’re overthinking things. I’m only saying this stuff for your own good.” 4 I started shutting down, growing quiet, anxious, and easily irritated. I kept wondering what terrible thing I must have done in a past life to deserve this. Michael started coming home later and later. “Work,” he’d say. “Trying to get that promotion to supervisor, gotta put in the hours, make a good impression.” My own shifts at the hospital, often overnight, meant we barely saw each other anyway. Our communication dwindled to almost nothing. I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d actually been intimate. One night, a colleague covered my shift, so I got off early. It was around 11 PM when I got home. The living room was dark, but I heard the shower running in the master bathroom, and muffled sounds of Michael talking. A small smile touched my lips. I decided to surprise him. I quietly changed into the silky black lingerie I’d bought a while back, hoping to reignite something. Tiptoeing to the bathroom door, I reached for the handle. That’s when I heard it, a sentence that froze the blood in my veins. “My wife? Please, that barren woman can’t hold a candle to you!” Michael’s voice was slick, sleazy, unrecognizable. My hand hovered over the doorknob, unable to push it down. “Stop hiding! It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before!” “Come on, move the phone down a little lower!” “Oh, Mikey, you’re making me blush~” A simpering female voice came through the phone speaker, loud enough for me to hear over the running water. I couldn’t believe it. My quiet, dependable husband was video-calling another woman while she showered? “Yeah, yeah! Right there!” The conversation that followed… I can’t even repeat it. It was disgusting. Listening to his low groans from inside the bathroom, I knew exactly what was happening. All strength drained from my body. I slumped against the wall, sliding down to the cold tile floor outside the door. The water kept running. I don’t know how long I sat there. “Mikey,” the woman’s voice purred, sounding weak but satisfied. “When are you finally gonna divorce your wife?” “It’s gonna take a little more time,” Michael replied, still slightly breathless. “What do you mean!” Her voice sharpened with annoyance. “You keep saying that! Wait, wait, wait! I’m tired of waiting!” “I already told you, Jess,” Michael explained patiently, “if I divorce her now, she gets half the house. Give me a little longer. I promise I’ll get her to sign a property agreement, make her give up her claim willingly.” “Really?” “Jess, would I lie to you? You know how crazy I am about you. I want to marry you as soon as possible.” Then, his voice dropped, filled with contempt. “Besides… a woman who can’t even have kids thinks she deserves half my property? Dream on! If I wasn’t trying to trick her into signing that agreement, I’d have kicked her out months ago!”

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My wife’s family was worth millions, and I married into it. Her adoptive brother claimed I caused the accident that left her dad in a vegetative state, that I only married her for the money. Just based on his suspicion, I was sent to prison. She broke the hand I used to paint. She damaged the eye I used for photography, leaving a four-inch scar across my face. My mom knelt before her, begging for my release. After getting out, I avoided her like the plague. But she haunted me, relentless as a ghost. My mom spent her life savings to bail me out, but my wife demanded she kneel and apologize right there before agreeing. On the way home, the stress triggered a heart attack. Mom collapsed, and then a passing car hit her. Now she’s the one in a vegetative state. Only when I suffered the same fate as her father did the Vances finally back off. The first thing I did after getting out was sign the divorce papers. I wanted nothing to do with the Vances ever again. To pay for Mom’s medical bills, I scraped together two high-paying—or what counted as high-paying for me now—jobs. I thought I’d paid a steep enough price. But seeing Sarah Vance at the nightclub proved how naive I was. Surrounded by her friends, her gaze landed on me, full of condescending arrogance. “Well, if it isn’t the great artist, Liam? What’s someone like you doing in a low-class joint like this?” “I seem to recall you looking down your nose at places like this.” She pulled a wad of cash from her purse and threw it in my face. “Take good care of my friends, and there’s more where that came from.” I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw trembled. “You’ve got the wrong guy. I just serve drinks. I’m not an escort.” Laughter erupted around me. Sarah’s face tightened for a second before she pulled out several thousand dollars and tossed it on the floor in front of me. “You can be!” They casually rattled off names of expensive liquors, shattering what little pride I had left. That booze, worth more than my life felt like right now… if I sold it, Mom’s medical bills for the next month would be covered. I slowly lowered my head and went to get the drinks. My hand, the one she’d broken in prison that never healed right, trembled violently as I held the tray. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I held the tray out. Nobody moved to take anything. The sweat soaked through my shirt. After a long moment, Sarah finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. “How are you going to sell drinks if you don’t drink? Don’t you know the rules here?” My grip tightened on the tray. We were together for five years. She knew perfectly well I was allergic to alcohol. If it weren’t for the scar on my face and the damage to my wrist, I wouldn’t have been desperate enough to take this job. I grabbed a bottle, ready to drink it anyway, but she snatched it from me. She poured it onto the floor, letting it soak into the carpet under the sofa. She tilted her chin, gesturing for me to get on my knees. “Oops, how clumsy of me. That’s expensive stuff. What a waste… unless… you just lap it up from the carpet.” My eyes fixed on the stained carpet. A wave of humiliation washed over me, worse than anything I’d felt before. God knows how many shoes had trampled this club carpet, and I doubted it had ever been cleaned. The manager saw what was happening and strode over. He kicked the back of my knee. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to the floor. Stay calm, Liam, I told myself, over and over. This is the best job you could find. You need this. When I didn’t move, Sarah threw another ten thousand dollars, the bills scattering over my head and shoulders. Stiffly, I bent forward, my face getting closer and closer to the filthy carpet, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch it. The next second, Sarah’s stiletto heel pressed down on the back of my head. My head twisted, forcing my cheek flat against the carpet. The club lights hit the grotesque scar near my eye. That happened in prison. She’d used a pen… the tip had grazed my eyeball as I flinched away in pain, tearing the skin. Emergency surgery saved the eye itself, but not the vision. I lost sight in my left eye. People around gasped as if they’d just noticed. “Ugh, what is that on his face? So creepy! They’ll hire anyone here!” They knew damn well how I got the scar, every single one of them. But they pretended ignorance, twisting the knife. Sarah chuckled softly, the point of her heel tracing the edge of my scar. “Is this really our great artist? I barely recognize you.” Then, she shifted her weight, grinding her heel into the wrist of my bad hand, the one pinned beneath me. The tendons were already ruined, never healed properly, but the pressure sent white-hot pain shooting up my arm. “Liam,” she said slowly, each word deliberate, the pressure increasing, “is this the hand you used to tamper with my father’s car?” She picked up some of the scattered bills and started slapping them against my face. “Still not drinking? Are you waiting for a formal invitation?” The manager, who had frozen nearby, snapped back to attention. He kicked me sharply in the backside. “Drink it, now! These are VIPs! Screw this up, and you’re fired!” He grabbed my head, forcing it down until my lips were pressed against the alcohol-soaked carpet. My skin already burned, reacting to the cheap booze. With my bad hand pinned and the other useless, I couldn’t fight his strength. Sarah leaned close, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear, “This is payback for what you did to my dad!” I tried to shake my head, but the manager clamped his hands on either side, holding me still. I’d explained it countless times in prison. The car accident had nothing to do with me. If it weren’t for Mr. Vance, I never could have afforded art school, let alone had someone sponsor my gallery show. Why would I hurt him for money? But no one listened. Because of one accusation from her adoptive brother, Jason, I was suddenly the villain, guilty as charged. I clamped my jaw shut, my lips grinding against the rough carpet fibers. I forced the words out through gritted teeth. “Sarah… I told you… it wasn’t me…” Hearing the old nickname made her eyes flash red. “If not you, then who? My brother? Dad adopted Jason when he was five, raised him like a son, groomed him to take over the company! Are you saying he hurt Dad? The brother who’s always been there for me? And now he’s blaming you?!” “The Vance fortune was practically his already. Why would he need to?” Thinking of her father, her only remaining family, Sarah grew more agitated. She spat through clenched teeth, “Still talking? Guess you haven’t had enough to drink!” As soon as she said it, one of her friends chimed in. “Wow, this carpet really soaks it up! Let me try…” She grabbed another bottle and poured, the liquid pooling and spreading beyond the carpet now. A bitter laugh welled up inside me. When I got the call about Mr. Vance’s accident, I rushed over immediately. He only had minor injuries then. But after Jason arrived, put him in his car, and took him to the hospital… he ended up vegetative. Bitter irony. Maybe Jason didn’t do it for the money. But what if he did it for you, Sarah? I had to open my mouth to breathe, and ended up gulping down the disgusting, booze-soaked liquid. Alcohol flooded my throat, and a fierce itch started deep inside me, my allergy kicking in. The manager, startled by my reaction, muttered an excuse about me needing to clean up in the restroom, finally giving me a momentary escape. In the bathroom, I choked down the allergy pills I always carried, then shoved my face under the faucet, turning the cold water on full blast. Tears or sweat, I couldn’t tell, but my face was soaked. Just as I felt like I was about to suffocate, a hesitant female voice sounded nearby. “Excuse me, are you Liam?” I lifted my dripping face from the sink and met a pair of clear, kind eyes. The young woman was dressed head-to-toe in designer clothes – clearly from a different world than mine now. I figured she had the wrong person. I gave a slight nod and turned to leave. I still had to go back out there and earn that money. But she stopped me, her eyes lighting up with excitement, though she hesitated when her gaze fell on my scar. “I thought I was mistaken! I saw your gallery show. I loved your work, but then… I couldn’t find any news about you.” She flashed a charming smile and held out her hand. “Hi, I guess I’m one of your earliest fans. My name is Grace Norton.” Hearing her name, a vague memory surfaced. That one and only gallery show, sponsored by Mr. Vance… only one person had contacted me afterward, wanting to buy a piece. I’d been ecstatic then, thinking it was the start of my career. Turns out, it was the only time. And the last. The past felt like another lifetime. I avoided her gaze and mumbled, “You’re mistaken. I just serve drinks here.” Then I practically fled. What was once my armor—my art—was now the sharpest knife twisting in my gut. Swallowing the bitterness, I forced myself back to Sarah’s table. A few good-looking guys had joined them now, charming her friends into giggles. One of the women saw me and exclaimed, “Sarah, you were right! He actually came back! Ugh, I lost the bet! So annoying!” I took a deep breath, trying to muster a smile. Sarah was leaning against one of the guys now. She scoffed, “He kissed my ass for five years. I know exactly what he’s thinking. You only lost, what, fifty grand? Just take it out on him.” I bit down hard to keep quiet. My pride was being trampled by these people, and all I felt was a burning, helpless resentment. The woman who lost the bet brightened at Sarah’s suggestion. The next second, she slipped off her high heel, picked up one of the bottles I’d just brought, and poured the expensive liquor into her shoe. Then she covered her mouth in mock horror. “Oh my god, I’m so clumsy! This stuff is so expensive, what a waste…” Her eyes met mine, a playful smirk on her lips. “What should we do? That’s probably, like, two months’ salary for you, right? Can’t let it go to waste. How about this: you drink it, I’ll pay for the bottle. Deal?” “Besides,” she added, “isn’t it an honor for this booze to be consumed by such a great artist?” Laughter rippled through the group. Their eyes were on me, expectant, burning holes in my already shredded dignity. I turned my head, looking straight at Sarah. The woman I’d loved for five years. Honestly, deep down, a part of me still couldn’t believe she could be this cruel. Five years together. We were each other’s first love. After prison, I’d specifically checked at the hospital – Mr. Vance’s condition was stable. There was a chance he could wake up. If he did, he could clear my name. But she ignored my stare, turning back to flirt with the guy next to her. The woman with the shoe gestured towards it with her bare foot, tilting her chin expectantly. I bent down, lowering my head to hide my shame. My whole body trembled as I reached for the shoe. Just before my fingers could touch it, a hand grabbed my arm. “Liam? Fancy meeting you here. Are you looking for inspiration? Could I possibly talk to you about that painting of yours?” Seeing this, Sarah finally pulled away from the guy she was leaning on. She looked at Grace, her expression wary and cold. “I’m dealing with my own man here. What’s it to you?” I cut in, my voice flat. “Sarah, we’re divorced.” She flushed, momentarily speechless. Seeing her caught off guard, one of her friends jumped in, scowling at Grace. “You must have the wrong guy. He’s no artist now. What painting are you talking about? Something Sarah paid for back when they were together?” “I think you’re confused,” another added venomously. “That artist basically died in prison. The person in front of you now is just a crippled bartender. Possibly even an attempted murderer…” She emphasized the word “crippled,” and the blood drained from my face. Not wanting my only fan to witness this humiliation, I just nodded numbly. “Yeah, you must be mistaken. I just serve drinks.” Hearing me admit defeat seemed to satisfy Sarah. Her expression softened slightly as she tossed another thick stack of cash—maybe twenty grand—onto the table. In this age of digital payments, I couldn’t help but think she used cash specifically to humiliate me. Tapping a phone screen just didn’t have the same degrading impact as forcing me to grovel for bills on the floor. Grace watched this exchange, her earlier smile gone, replaced by a serious expression. She said firmly, “Fine. Then I want to buy his services. That should be okay, right?” Sarah’s friend immediately scowled. “Do you know who we are? Are you looking for trouble? Didn’t you hear us?” Grace blinked innocently. “I want to hire him too. I like his face. Since you’ve already bought the drinks, what’s wrong with me taking him?” In the dim light, Sarah coldly pulled out her phone and dialed a number. “Manager? Someone here is causing trouble for me. Do you want to stay in business or not? Have you forgotten who your best customers are?” Hearing her make the call, my heart jumped into my throat. I saw someone slip away, probably to get security. The other women glared at Grace. “Where did this broke bitch come from? Trying to take someone from us?” I didn’t want Grace getting dragged into this because of me. I whispered quickly, “You should go. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” I knew how much clout the Vance family had locally. Anyone hanging out with Sarah wasn’t likely to be ordinary either. But Grace just set her jaw, reached into her designer bag, and pulled out a black card. She tossed it casually onto the table. “Tonight, I’m taking him with me. Period.”

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While I was fighting over discount groceries at the supermarket, Mark was dropping a fortune on jewelry for his secretary. He gave me the freebie that came with it as an anniversary gift. I looked at the pile of discounted groceries on the table and the necklace marked ‘promotional item.’ While I was nearly dying from an allergic reaction, Mark was fussing over his secretary’s paper cut. Later, I wore a wedding dress and married my childhood friend. Mark, however, choked back tears and asked, “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t marry anyone but me?” 1 The night Mark didn’t come home again, I finally didn’t call him. Usually, I’d complain and then call him again and again, urging him to come back. At first, Mark would just say, “Be right there.” Later, he got annoyed when I asked too much. “I just don’t want to come back. Seeing you looking like such a mess ruins my appetite.” I started spiraling, buying tons of makeup to hide how tired I looked. Instead, my face broke out like crazy. When Mark saw it, his expression was pure mockery. “Ugh, Sarah, you look awful. Trying too hard just makes it worse.” I unpinned his chat from the top of my contacts list. Mark came home. He reeked of alcohol, and underneath it, the unmistakable smell of someone else’s cheap perfume. “Sarah, you’re getting lazier. You didn’t even make dinner.” I looked at Mark, exhausted. “Have you even looked at the time?” The clock on the wall showed midnight. Mark was momentarily speechless, maybe feeling a flicker of guilt. “It was Megan’s birthday today, so things ran a little late.” Megan was the new secretary, the darling of their department, spoiled since she was a kid. She and Mark were inseparable. They’d often share food off the same plate, sip from the same drink. They’d even crashed on the same couch sometimes. I often asked them to keep their distance, reminding them we were engaged. At first, Mark listened and kept some distance, but eventually, he just stopped caring. “If Megan hadn’t gone abroad back then, do you think you’d even have a chance with me?” And somehow, Megan found out about this. At parties, Megan would sometimes bring the conversation around to me. “Sarah, see? I’m not getting too close to Mark.” “Mark, you shouldn’t come to karaoke with us. Sarah will just accuse me of flirting with you again.” Megan’s words always made Mark’s face darken instantly. He increasingly felt like I was tearing him and his “best buddy” apart. Soon, rumors spread through our circle: Mark’s girlfriend was a control freak, a total psycho. Mark never defended me, not once. It was as if that’s just who I was. Seeing my indifferent expression now, that tiny bit of guilt in Mark vanished instantly. He slammed his mug down on the table, shattering it on the floor. “Who do you think you’re giving that attitude to, Sarah?” The ceramic exploded near my feet, fragments flying up and hitting my face. Stinging cuts appeared. That mug was a gift from Mark when we first moved in together. Back then, his company hadn’t taken off yet. He wasn’t Mr. Thompson, the boss. He was just Mark. His voice choked with emotion, he had said, “I will never let you down.” Later, he could afford endless mugs, but he was also short on genuine feelings. Seeing the blood on my face, Mark sobered up instantly. Guilt over coming home late and cheating finally surfaced. “Sarah, are you okay? I just got a little worked up.” I didn’t say anything, just wiped the blood from my face with my hand. Mark, uncharacteristically, fumbled for a Band-Aid. My heart warmed for a second, only to plummet the next. 2 “This is Megan’s Band-Aid. You’re always picking on her, but see how nice she still is to you?” “Can’t you learn from her? Stop being so petty.” So, all along, he thought I was petty, jealous of his little girl crush. I felt the cuts sting, and red patches started appearing all over my face. “What’s in the Band-Aid?” Mark wasn’t used to my sharp tone and faltered slightly. “Uh, I think it’s peach scented.” “Megan knows I’m allergic to peaches.” How could she not know? Once, Megan deliberately gave me a dress for a party. She’d secretly rubbed peach fuzz inside it. I didn’t notice anything until the party started. My whole body turned red, my face swelled up like a balloon. Mark thought I did it on purpose just to embarrass him. He looked at me, writhing in allergic agony, with nothing but contempt. “Figures. Straight out of the sticks. Can’t even handle a simple party.” “She’s really punching way above her weight being with me.” Megan, meanwhile, put on her best pitiful act. “Mark, maybe Sarah didn’t like the dress I gave her? She looks really unwell.” Of course, Mark wouldn’t let Megan feel the slightest bit wronged. “Uncultured thing. You’re just embarrassing me.” My throat was swelling shut. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t get a word out. I knew Mark wouldn’t believe me anyway. Finally, I was taken to the hospital. As I was being helped out, Megan whispered in my ear. “I know you’re allergic to peach fuzz. I did it on purpose.” “That’s what you get for stealing Mark. It’s karma.” Someone who hates you will stoop to anything to hurt you, while the person who supposedly loves you doesn’t even know your allergies. Eventually, a shred of guilt must have pricked Mark, because he drove me to the hospital. The car was full of traces of another woman. A pink Hello Kitty keychain, the scent of gardenia perfume, even a half-eaten bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos on the floor. Mark was a notorious neat freak. Once, I ate a Snickers bar in his car because my blood sugar was low. He kicked me out immediately. “You got crumbs all over the car! Are you disgusting?” It was below freezing, maybe 20 degrees Fahrenheit. I walked for almost an hour in a thin sweater before I could get a cab. I went home with a raging fever. And Mark just said: “So I made you walk a couple of miles? Do you have to be so dramatic?” Mark noticed me looking at the car’s interior and seemed a bit sheepish. “Megan’s always forgetting things. I’ll give them back to her later.” My head was pounding from the allergic reaction, and I didn’t have the energy to listen to his excuses. Suddenly, Mark’s phone buzzed. He snatched it up immediately. His face lit up with undisguised joy. “Megan? How are you?” “Okay, okay, I’m coming right over. Stay right there, don’t move.” He hung up. The car speeded up abruptly, the inertia making me feel even sicker. “Megan cut her hand. I need to go check on her.” Mark didn’t drive to the hospital. He parked downstairs from Megan’s apartment. I watched him go upstairs, feeling my breathing get heavier and heavier. I stared at the lights in Megan’s apartment until they went out. He never came back down. In that instant, despair washed over me completely. The Mark who promised to always protect me died that night. With my last ounce of strength, I dialed a number I hadn’t called in far too long. “Help me.” 3 When Liam got me to the hospital, I was covered in hives from the allergic reaction, nearly dead from anaphylactic shock. I was unconscious for a long time before slowly waking up. “Liam.” The boyishness was gone from the man before me, replaced by maturity. Seeing me awake, he looked relieved, but his words were laced with sarcasm. “You really love making things hard for yourself, don’t you? Why did you have to stick by that guy while he was building his empire from scratch?” “Isn’t everyone in our family loaded? Was there any need to suffer like that?” I had been rebellious, refusing to let my parents arrange my life, so I ran off with Mark. I supported him as he started with nothing, only to end up like this. Just as I was about to thank him, Mark called. “Sarah, where the hell are you? Didn’t make breakfast? Didn’t iron my shirt?” “When did you get so lazy?” Liam, beside me, frowned deeply. He seemed shocked that the person Sarah ran away for was this guy. “I’m in the hospital. Hire a housekeeper.” Mark on the other end seemed to remember abandoning me, allergic and alone, in the car the other night. His voice turned hesitant. “Okay, uh, I’ll have Sam bring you some soup. I’ll pick you up this afternoon?” I could hear Megan in the background. “It’s all my fault. I’m the reason Sarah’s in the hospital.” Megan’s cloying voice completely erased any guilt or concern Mark might have felt for me. “She’s just being dramatic. It’s just an allergic reaction. What’s the big deal?” Yeah, just an allergic reaction. But if Liam had been just a little later, I could have died from shock. “This is the guy you chose? Total idiot.” He was still as blunt as ever, but I didn’t have the strength to argue. Everything he said was true. At noon, Sam brought me some snacks and drinks. Mark checked my social media all afternoon and saw nothing. He called again. “Did you get the stuff I sent? Why didn’t you post about it?” After all, I used to post pictures of everything he gave me, showing the world how happy I was. Until the day I overheard Mark saying dismissively: “Sarah’s such a hick. Gets excited over such small things she has to post them.” “Women with no class are so easy to please.” So that’s what he really thought of me. I replied flatly. “Saw it. Didn’t feel the need.” I hung up. Surprisingly, Mark actually showed up on time that afternoon to pick me up. With Megan. He was never on time before, usually making me wait an hour or two, then fobbing me off with “work was busy.” Megan sat in the front passenger seat, looking smug. “Sarah, Mark and I just ran into each other. You don’t mind me sitting up front, right?” The old me would have definitely thrown a fit, demanding why Megan was in the passenger seat. I couldn’t be bothered arguing. I just got in the back. Mark sensed my low mood and, for once, actually offered an explanation. “Ran into her after work. Just giving her a lift.” Just as Mark was about to start the car, a pair of long legs slid into the back seat next to me. Liam leaned close. “Hey sis, don’t leave me behind.” Then, addressing the front seats: “Hi there. I’m Liam, Sarah’s childhood friend.” 3 Mark’s face turned green. He had no idea I had a childhood friend. After all, I always told people I was an orphan, with no one to rely on. “Since when do you have a childhood friend? How come I never knew?” I didn’t answer directly. “I told you before. You probably forgot.” “You can have your childhood friend, why can’t I have mine?” My counter-question caught Mark off guard. He fell silent. But Megan wouldn’t miss this opportunity. She started chatting with Mark about their childhood memories again. Usually, they’d be deep in conversation in the car, making me feel like an outsider. But now, Mark was still annoyed about what I’d just said, so he completely ignored Megan. Megan looked awkward. Suddenly, she seemed to remember something. “Mark gave me a necklace the other day. Easily worth seven figures.” She glanced pointedly at my neck. “Yours is the freebie that came with it, right, Sarah?” I touched my neck, my heart sinking. That morning, I’d been so pleased I managed to snag those discount groceries, thinking I got a great deal. Turns out, Mark had casually dropped a fortune on Megan. Seven figures. How long would it take me to save that much? Mark spent it without a second thought. I looked at the promotional necklace he gave me for our anniversary. I thought maybe Mark was finally changing his ways, but it turned out to be just as worthless as he thought I was. When we finally got home, Mark immediately started yelling. “How can you be such a slut, always hitting on guys?” “Do you really think I believe your crap? How could he possibly be your childhood friend?” After listening, I didn’t answer his question, just shot back: “You can hang out with your childhood pal to cure your loneliness, but I can’t see mine?” “Why is it okay for you but not for me?” My rapid-fire questions left Mark speechless. He rarely saw me this angry. “Let’s break up.” My next words made Mark even angrier. “Sarah, you’ve got some nerve now, huh? You dare break up with me? For some pretty boy?” “He’s just after your money right now! If you leave me, you’re broke! Who’s gonna want you then?” I laughed bitterly. So that’s how Mark saw me all along. He thought I was only with him for his money. But what about when he had nothing, and I was willing to run away with him? What was that then? My eyes reddened. It felt like I was truly seeing this man for the first time in years. I turned and went back to the bedroom to start packing. In the bedroom trash can, I saw a used condom. And in the closet, some sexy lingerie that definitely wasn’t mine. I hadn’t been home for a few days. It was obvious whose these were. I showed these items to Mark. For once, real panic flickered across his face. “Megan’s just… forgetful sometimes. This…” I cut him off. “You should throw out used condoms. They’re dirty.” I don’t know which word hit Mark the wrong way. He snapped, “None of your damn business,” and stormed out. As I finished packing, I realized I barely owned anything. When we were poor, I didn’t dare buy things. Now that we had money, I couldn’t shake the deep-seated feeling that I didn’t deserve nice things. Liam had been waiting downstairs for a while. He leaned against his Maybach, glancing at the single suitcase beside me. “That’s it? You really went through a lot these past few years, huh?” I gave a weak smile. “Wouldn’t have given up if I hadn’t gone through it, right?” Once, I was full of passion, thinking we could spend our lives together. Later, I realized it was just wishful thinking on my part. We stumbled through poverty together, but when wealth came, I was left behind alone. “Thanks for what you did in the car today.” Liam shrugged it off. “Wanted to do that for a long time.” Mark called again. “Sarah, bring me a box of condoms. Don’t slack off.”

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It was the New Year’s Eve party. Someone swapped my pineapple juice for a beer. The problem? I had just taken antibiotics that day. I barely made it after they rushed me to the hospital. When I came to, my wife, Chloe, was shielding the guy who did it. “Let this go, Ethan. Be the bigger person. He didn’t mean it.” I wasn’t about to let this guy—the one who’d been way too close to my wife for comfort—off the hook. Chloe cut me off, frowning. “Enough! He just graduated, he’s just a kid who doesn’t know any better. Why are you picking on him?” “Do you have to ruin his life to be happy?” Seeing her defend him like that, my heart turned to ash. “Then maybe you two should be together.” … “What do you mean, we should be together?! Ethan, can you stop being so petty? What’s wrong with a boss caring about her employee? And you twist it into this? You ruined a perfectly good New Year’s party!” My words hit a nerve. Flustered, Chloe lashed out, trying to sound tough. I let out a cold laugh. “Oh really? Some ‘caring’. Seems like you care more about him than your own husband. When I collapsed at the party, you were the one who stepped back, weren’t you?” Chloe froze for a second, then visibly tried to calm herself down, forcing her anger back. “Ethan, I know you’re upset. I promise I’ll discipline Sam. I’ll give you an outcome you’re satisfied with. But calling the cops? That’s completely unnecessary. He just graduated college…” “How are you planning to discipline him?” Having just stared death in the face, everything suddenly felt crystal clear. A dull ache throbbed in my temples. I cut through her rambling. Chloe blinked, then mumbled, “Dock his pay for three days.” “…I almost died, and you want to dock three days’ pay?!” I couldn’t believe it. I almost laughed out of sheer anger. “Enough! He didn’t do it on purpose! He’s just a kid fresh out of college, how much money do you think he has? He has rent, bills… this is already serious! How is he supposed to live next month?!” Chloe’s face turned ugly. She clearly wanted me to drop it. But I had lost all interest in talking to her. I pulled out my phone to call 911. Just graduated? Sorry, old enough means old enough to take responsibility for your actions. I’d barely dialed a few numbers when Chloe snatched the phone from my hand, hanging up and yelling. “Do you really have to destroy his future?! He’s so young! What does he know?!” “I just want to tell the police the facts. He knows exactly what he did.” My brow furrowed. I reached to grab my phone back. The tension in the hospital room was thick. Neither of us would back down. Knock, knock, knock. The door opened. It was Sam, holding a fruit basket. He had a couple of perfectly placed tears on his cheeks. He entered the room looking timid and scared, bowing his head in apology the moment he met my gaze. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. This is all my fault. I’m really, truly sorry.” “Sam, quick, sit down.” Chloe immediately rushed to welcome him, taking the fruit basket and patting his shoulder. “Look at you, spending money like this. Ethan’s fine, really. What are you crying for? Don’t be scared.” “Sorry, Chloe. I caused you so much trouble.” That only made it worse. Sam’s eyes reddened further as if he really was terrified. His choked sob made Chloe’s heart ache even more. As tears welled up, he glanced up at me, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. I frowned, about to tell him to cut the act, but the next second, he dropped to his knees in front of my hospital bed with a thud. He bowed his head and spoke through tears. “I’m sorry, Ethan, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know you’d taken medication. Switching the drinks… it was just… for the atmosphere. I honestly didn’t mean anything else by it.” “Sam! What are you doing?! Get up!” Chloe was stunned. She moved to pull him up, then turned to me, furious when she saw my expressionless face. “He’s like this! And you still don’t believe him?! Ethan, I never realized you could be so cold-hearted! Forgive him right now! Stop making things difficult for this kid! Sam… get up, please. I don’t want to see you like this either…” “I’m not getting up! Not until Ethan forgives me!” Tears streamed down Sam’s face as he knelt there, stubbornly demanding my forgiveness. My head throbbed. I couldn’t be bothered watching his performance. Seeing me still unmoved, Chloe marched over and slapped me hard across the face. “Ethan! You son of a bitch!” Smack! It happened so fast. My right cheek burned. That slap completely extinguished the last spark of feeling I had left for her. 2 Chloe and I met in college. We were classmates in the finance program. Our university’s finance department was one of the best in the country. Most students there had family with “connections” and “backgrounds,” but Chloe was different. She got in purely through her own hard work and planned to build her future from scratch. That determination drew me in almost instantly. Getting together with her felt inevitable. I pursued her. I learned a lot from her too. My family never thought much of Chloe. When we graduated, they’d already picked out a suitable bride for an arranged marriage, figuring Chloe was just a phase I’d get over before coming home. But youth is rebellious. That fire I had back then is long gone now. I fought with my family and chose Chloe. Looking back, we’ve been married for three years, together for five. In those three years, Chloe’s career took off, thanks in part to my help. There was a time she stood up for me just like she was standing up for Sam today. She once yelled at a condescending business partner who was trying to force drinks on me. She used to cook for me late at night. I truly believed Chloe and I would spend our lives together. Our life got better, but the feelings faded. Ever since Sam joined the company as an intern assistant, Chloe’s attitude towards me took a nosedive. I heard she specifically requested to have Sam transferred to work directly under her. After that, she was constantly traveling for work or working late, and Sam was always with her. The official reason was “developing his skills.” I wondered just what “skills” were being developed. It got to the point where rumors started flying around the office these past few months, suggesting Sam wasn’t just getting mentored, but that Chloe was involved with him. I was lost in thought when another slap hit me, just as hard. I slowly looked up at Chloe. She gritted her teeth, spitting out each word. “Ethan, accept Sam’s apology. Right now. Or I’ll make your life hell.” “Chloe, don’t hit him! Please don’t fight because of me!” Sam waited until after she hit me to intervene. Then, he decisively stood up, a look of resolve flashing across his face. “Ethan, since you still won’t forgive me, maybe I should just turn myself in. I’m willing to spend the rest of my life making amends for this!” With that, before we could react, he bolted out of the hospital room. “Sam! Where are you going?! Don’t do anything stupid!” Chloe frantically chased after him. Before leaving, she shot me a parting threat. “Ethan, if anything happens to him, I’ll never forgive you!” The door slammed shut, finally leaving the room quiet. I let out a long breath, feeling utterly exhausted. Of course, Sam wasn’t going to turn himself in. Everything he did today was calculated to drive a wedge between Chloe and me. It was such an obvious ploy, only Chloe would fall for it. Sure enough, a little while later, Chloe posted on social media. The picture was a scenic view not far from the hospital. Her caption read: “I’ll protect you forever.” She didn’t hide it from anyone. Just put it out there for the world to see. After chasing him out, she never came back to see me. I guess it made sense. I was out of danger, so there was no need. I laughed coldly, indifferent to her passive-aggressive provocation. My stomach had just been pumped the night before. I couldn’t eat anything, but I didn’t want to stay in the hospital either. I talked to the doctor about being discharged the next day. I packed my things and went home. Chloe was there. 3 “You’re back?” Chloe was sitting on the sofa. The moment she saw me, her smile vanished. Her tone was lukewarm, and she didn’t even ask how I was feeling. She clearly hadn’t expected me back so soon. She seemed to have been in a good mood before I opened the door, but my arrival instantly soured it. For a married couple to reach this point… we were truly just putting on a show. “Yeah, I’m back.” I replied casually, my tone equally flat. That’s when I noticed her posture seemed unconsciously tense. I frowned. The next moment, I heard the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. Someone else was home. “Who’s taking a shower?” Even though a suspicion had already formed in my mind, I still held onto a sliver of hope as I asked. But as soon as Chloe heard the question, her expression turned guarded, and she quickly forced an explanation. “It’s Sam. His water’s been shut off for a week, so I let him come over to shower after work. Don’t get the wrong idea, his water really is off.” “Got it. I wasn’t thinking anything.” My calm response actually seemed to throw her off. She studied my face, searching for any sign of anger. When she found none, she visibly relaxed. “Wow, you finally figured it out. Nice to see you’re not making a scene for once.” Making a scene? Is that how she saw my reactions all along? I didn’t reply. I walked straight into the bedroom, dragged a suitcase out of the closet, and started packing without a word. During this time, Chloe didn’t even peek in to check on me. As I packed, I realized how few things I actually owned after years of marriage. I’m not a particularly materialistic person. I left behind everything Chloe had given me and anything we owned jointly. I didn’t want them. I didn’t want the memories. When I finished packing and came out, Chloe was already drying Sam’s hair. She was kneeling on the sofa, laughing and chatting with him. Looking at them, they seemed like a genuinely loving couple. I felt completely out of place in my own home. Chloe’s back was to me, and the hairdryer was too loud for her to hear me approach. But Sam saw me the instant I stepped out of the room. He slowly looked up, a smug expression spreading across his face, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. It was as if he was saying, See? You can’t win against me. My face remained blank. I didn’t want to win, nor did I feel like I had lost. I just quietly watched Chloe patiently and gently drying Sam’s hair, her expression soft. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked at me like that. So, it wasn’t work stress making her lash out at me at home. It was just that her tenderness was reserved for someone else. The hairdryer switched off. Chloe turned, saw me, and her expression tightened. She quickly explained. “Just drying his hair. Didn’t want him to catch a cold with wet hair and miss work tomorrow.” “I know. You don’t have to tell me everything.” My casual, indifferent reply gave Sam another opening. He adopted a timid look. “Ethan, I guess I’m not welcome here… I should probably go.” He made a show of getting ready to leave, and Chloe immediately stopped him. “You just showered. Going out now, you’ll catch a cold!” “I didn’t say you weren’t welcome. I’m the one who’s extra here. You can stay. I’m leaving.” I grabbed my suitcase from the bedroom and headed straight for the door. Seeing this, Chloe’s face darkened, and she stepped in front of me to block my way. “Ethan, what are you doing? I knew something was up when you came home acting so calm. What kind of scheme is this?!” A faint, ironic smile touched my lips. I really couldn’t be bothered to guess what kind of image Sam’s manipulations had painted of me in Chloe’s eyes. I looked at her calmly, my voice devoid of emotion. “No scheme, Chloe. Check your email soon. I’ll be sending you the divorce papers.” 4 “You want to divorce me?!” Unexpectedly, hearing those words didn’t make Chloe explode with rage. Instead, she frowned, a hint of confusion in her expression. “Ethan, you have no reason to divorce me. All I did was look out for Sam, practically like a little brother. If you want a divorce over this, I can only assume you don’t love me anymore, that you never really cared.” “Think whatever you want. The divorce is happening.” I didn’t even glance at her. Arguing at this point was meaningless. My unwavering attitude seemed to finally make something click for Chloe. She initially thought I was just “making a scene” like before, but now she realized I was serious. She instinctively reached out and grabbed my arm. “Ethan, stop messing around. Let’s just talk…” I yanked my arm away, a deep look of disgust flashing across my face. “Don’t touch me!” With that, I turned to leave. Thrown off balance, Chloe stumbled back, her anger finally igniting. She yelled after me. “Ethan! Where are you going to go without me?! Back to your family? Don’t forget, you cut ties with your family years ago!” “Get back here! Did I say I agreed to this divorce?!” I acted as if I hadn’t heard a word. I got in my car and drove straight to the office. After packing up my desk, I went to HR and submitted my resignation. “Uh… Ethan, are you sure about resigning?” The HR person saw my blank expression and probably guessed what was happening. She held the form, asking tentatively. “Yes.” I understood her hesitation. Everyone in the company knew I was the husband of the CEO, Chloe. Although she always claimed to keep business and personal life separate, there was inevitably office gossip. Sure enough, a troubled look crossed the HR person’s face. “Well… I can’t really approve this myself. Maybe we should wait for Ms. Hayes to get back?” (Assuming Hayes as Chloe’s Americanized surname). “No need. My position doesn’t require her sign-off. Just process it through the usual channels.” Chloe founded this company five years ago. I was one of the first employees back when there were only about ten of us. I wore multiple hats – tech guy, running errands, handling sales. I worked incredibly hard for a long time. But in the last couple of years, as the company started doing well, Chloe kept me in this low-level position, earning a basic salary. It was even less than what Sam made as her personal assistant. The HR person sighed helplessly. Technically, my position didn’t require CEO approval. She signed the form, probably just hoping Chloe’s eventual wrath wouldn’t land on her. I went back to my desk, picked up the cardboard box with my belongings, and walked out. As I left, I saw the pitying looks from my colleagues and heard their hushed whispers. “He’s really… leaving?” “I actually liked Ethan… When I first started, he was the one who taught me everything about sales.” “It’s because of Ms. Hayes’s new assistant, isn’t it… She really has been a bit too…” Hearing their words didn’t change my expression one bit. Just as I stepped out of the building, I saw Chloe arriving with Sam. When she saw me holding the box, she immediately flew into a rage. “Ethan, how long are you going to keep this up?! You want to leave me that badly?! You’re even quitting the company?!” “Ethan, calm down. I heard you’ve been with this company for years… Don’t be impulsive.” I completely ignored Sam’s attempts to stir the pot, not even giving him a glance. Seeing my indifference, Chloe took several deep breaths, struggling to contain her fury. “Fine! Fine! You’re dead set on divorcing me, aren’t you? Then let’s do it! I’ll sign the papers right away! Ethan, just don’t you regret this!” Hearing this, I stopped walking, finally showing a reaction. “Since you’re signing, let’s go to the courthouse this afternoon.” That same afternoon, Chloe and I finalized the divorce. She was clearly still furious and left immediately with Sam. I didn’t bother trying to talk to her further. I was just relieved it was over so quickly. Standing outside the courthouse, I took a deep breath, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number I hadn’t called more than a few times in three years. It rang twice before a somewhat stern voice answered, sounding surprised. “Hello? Ethan?” I pressed my lips together, then spoke, my voice hoarse. “…Dad? Mom? I want to come home.”

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Ethan and I had been married for five years. We got along well, respectful, like we were always on the same page. But then, in an interview, he dropped this bomb with a regretful look: “In the end, I couldn’t marry the person I truly loved.” That’s when it hit me. The happy marriage I thought I had? It was all just a joke. 1 “So, Ethan, are you married?” On the screen, the interviewer had that gossipy glint in her eye. Ethan went quiet for a beat, then gave a small, sad smile. “The person I wanted to marry… well, she married someone else.” The implication was clear: If the woman he wanted was with someone else, what was the point of him being married? I stared at the TV playing in the shop window, feeling completely lost. Then what was I? I caught my reflection in the glass and just went silent. The face staring back was pale, tired-looking, the picture of a worn-out stay-at-home mom with no spark left. I was stunned. Was that really me? I remembered how I looked five years ago when Ethan proposed. Confident, energetic, always laughing, full of life. Nothing like the drained woman I saw now. I still used a photo from his proposal as my phone background, a reminder of that supposedly perfect moment. In the picture, we looked great together – handsome guy, pretty girl, the ideal couple. Now, Ethan was still thriving, maybe even more so. Success had given him this air of command. And me? I gave a bitter laugh. Just another woman who’d let herself go. 2 2 Ethan and I knew each other in college, but we weren’t close – more like a nod-in-the-hallway kind of thing. We actually got familiar after graduation. I lucked out and found a great mentor who took me under her wing, dragging me to client meetings all over. In just a few years, I became the top salesperson. Meanwhile, Ethan was just starting his own company. He’d just landed some seed funding and was desperately trying to recruit people. We bumped into each other randomly. Old classmates catching up, naturally, we talked about what we were doing. That’s how we started talking more. He’d tell me about his struggles, how hard starting a business was, how lonely he felt. I’d listen, offer comfort, try to cheer him up. Slowly, things got… blurry. Flirty, maybe? But neither of us crossed that line. Until one night, Ethan called me after having too much to drink at a client dinner. “Lauren,” he slurred, his words fuzzy, but I got the gist. “Will you be my girlfriend?” “Come work with me,” he added. “Let’s build this thing together.” My heart fluttered. I felt for him, too. Yeah, he was out there grinding all alone, no one really in his corner. That night, I held the phone, thinking for a long time. Eventually, I said yes. Ethan was ecstatic. “Thank you, Lauren. Thank you.” He was rambling a bit, but I could feel his genuine excitement and warmth. I smiled, but that good feeling didn’t last long. The day I submitted my resignation, my mentor – the one who’d basically trained me – called. She was quiet for a long moment on the other end. “Lauren, are you really throwing away years of hard work for some guy?” “I’m planning to leave in a few years,” she said. “My position would have been yours. You’d be the youngest executive in the company.” My response was firm. “Ethan and I are going to build something together. Our own future.” My mentor didn’t argue further. She just sighed heavily and hung up. I threw myself headfirst into Ethan’s tiny startup. It was brand new. No real investment yet, barely any staff, no connections. For years, Ethan and I worked ourselves ragged. There was one stretch where we didn’t even see each other for three whole months, too busy even to text. Even when we had downtime, it was just quick, exhausted meetups. Ethan would hold me, his voice laced with guilt. “Maybe I should be the only one hitting the road for sales. I hate seeing you like this.” He wasn’t wrong. In just a year, I’d lost over fifteen pounds. People used to say I had a nice figure; now I was just skin and bones. But I didn’t care. Love gave me courage and determination. “Ethan,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “I will help you make this work.” Later on, when Ethan’s health wasn’t great, I took over most of his workload. Business trips? I went. Client dinners and negotiations? Me again. Recruiting talent? My job too. The company started taking off, gaining momentum. Finally, I could breathe a little and think about myself. Ethan and I had been together for six years. Maybe… maybe it was time to get married? Whenever I brought it up, Ethan would get vague, changing the subject. Love had blinded me. I ignored the weirdness. The company was just getting stable, he must still be overwhelmed, no time to think about marriage, right? One day, I came back to the office after a long trip. I was standing outside his office door with some files when I heard him on the phone. “…I still want to wait a little longer.” “Maybe! Who knows, maybe she’ll come back someday?” I couldn’t hear the other person, but Ethan’s face fell. “If that’s what she wants.” He took a deep breath. “I understand.” I knocked, put the files on his desk. He hung up quickly. I didn’t think much of it. The very next day, completely out of the blue, Ethan proposed. It was exactly what I thought I wanted. Surrounded by cheering friends, I happily accepted. Everything after that felt like fast-forward: wedding, pregnancy. But after I got pregnant, Ethan said to me: “The company’s stable now. You and the baby are what’s important.” He looked sincere. “You’ve worked so hard for years. It’s time you relaxed and enjoyed things.” I agreed. I cherished our first child. I stayed home, took it easy, eagerly waiting for the baby to arrive. Once I stepped back from the company, Ethan started coming home later and later. Maybe work picked up without me there, I reasoned. Soon, I didn’t have time to dwell on it. After the baby was born, all my focus shifted. He was born a bit early, had some health issues, needed constant watching. I didn’t notice Ethan’s presence in our home fading more and more. Until today, watching that interview, it finally clicked. Maybe he hadn’t needed me, or this family, for a long time now. 3 Ethan got home late that night. When he flipped on the light, he jumped, startled to see me sitting on the couch in the dark. Then his expression hardened slightly. “What are you doing sitting here in the middle of the night? Why aren’t you asleep?” I looked at him quietly. “I saw the interview today.” Ethan froze mid-motion, taking off his jacket. He clearly hadn’t expected me to see it. And why would he? I was usually swamped with the baby, barely had time to glance at my phone, let alone watch some obscure financial talk show. Who knew fate would be so ironic? He paused only for that second, then tossed his jacket onto the sofa and looked at me, acting completely unfazed. “So?” So? I wanted to laugh, and I actually did. A hollow sound. “Is that really how you see our marriage?” My laugh was shaky, tears welling up. “Couldn’t marry the one you loved?” “Then what about me? What am I?” Ethan sighed, annoyed. “It was just something I said off the cuff. Don’t make a federal case out of it.” I stopped laughing, wiping my eyes. My emotions were too raw. This wasn’t the time to talk. Seeing me quiet down, Ethan seemed to think he’d won. “You shouldn’t sit around overthinking things all day. Go out, take a walk or something.” “I bust my ass out there earning money, not so you can sit at home getting paranoid and…” His words were cut off by the sound of the bedroom door closing as I walked away. I thought about so much that night. Flashes of the startup days, drinking until my stomach burned at client dinners, sometimes throwing up three or four times in an evening. Then flashes of early pregnancy, Ethan always claiming he was too busy with work, never once coming with me to a prenatal checkup. Then back further, before we were officially together, how he’d sometimes take me out just to clear my head, magically producing a single rose on a walk. Years of moments, flickering before my eyes. Sleep was hazy, restless. We’ll talk properly tomorrow, I thought. When problems arise between a couple, you can’t avoid them. You just have to solve them. Unfortunately, that was just my perspective. The next morning, Ethan left early and didn’t come back that night. I called to ask where he was. The background was loud when someone picked up. It was a woman’s voice. “Ethan? Ethan, phone for you.” She sounded like she was shaking him awake. “Answer your phone.” Ethan mumbled something incoherent. Then I heard a distinct smack sound, like a kiss, followed by the woman’s playfully annoyed protests and laughter from others around them. No one paid any attention to the still-open phone line. Ethan didn’t come home all night. I sat on the couch, wide awake until morning. Around 8 or 9 AM, my phone rang with his number calling back. But it wasn’t Ethan. It was the same woman from last night. “Oh, sorry about that,” she said, her apology laced with provocation. “Ethan drank a little too much last night. He crashed at my place.” I just said, “Okay,” showing I understood, and hung up without another word. That evening, Ethan came home acting like nothing happened. He didn’t smell like alcohol, didn’t look hungover. In fact, he seemed almost cheerful. When I asked him where he was last night, he casually replied, “Out for drinks with an old friend.” Then, as if just remembering, he added, “It was Amanda, the one who answered your call. She just got divorced, her ex was really awful to her.” “Don’t get the wrong idea,” he tacked on. “There’s nothing going on between us.” I saw the faint red mark on the back of his neck. “Oh,” I said. Logically, I knew I should press for details. But emotionally, a part of me just wanted to let it go. He said it himself, maybe it really was nothing. But then it was one day, two days, a whole week – he didn’t come home. The first few times, his excuse was, “Something came up at work, I have to stay late.” When I questioned why no one else seemed to be working overtime, he dropped the pretense. “Amanda’s ex found out where she’s living now and he keeps showing up, harassing her,” he told me, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. “She’s terrified to even leave the apartment. I have to stay with her.” I was about to argue when the baby in my arms started crying. Ethan, seemingly unable to stand the noise, quickly hung up. I focused on comforting the baby. Strangely, my usually calm child just wouldn’t stop crying. I frantically grabbed the thermometer. 102 degrees! I immediately tried to call a car service on my phone. A fever in a young child is serious. We needed to get to the hospital right away! Wouldn’t you know it, there was a big concert at the stadium tonight, just letting out. All the Ubers and taxis were on the other side of town. No cars available. No choice. I had to call Ethan again. He had taken our only car. I needed him back here, now, to take our son to the ER. The baby was still crying weakly, his distress tearing me apart. I kept praying Ethan would pick up. After three or four missed calls, he finally answered, clearly annoyed. “What is it now?” I could hear a woman’s laughter in the background, but I didn’t have time to care. “Ethan, the baby’s sick, he has a high fever! You need to come back right now and take us to the hospital!” Ethan was silent for a moment, then scoffed. “Lauren, you’re really something else now. You’d even use our kid like this?” “Don’t waste your breath. I told you, there’s nothing going on with Amanda. She needs help with something here. I’ll be back in a few days.” “I’m not lying! He’s really…” “Look, I gotta go.” He hung up abruptly.

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The whole family found out about Mom’s online romance, and everyone laughed at her. My cousin Chloe scrolled through Mom’s phone. “Aunt Megan, your boyfriend is even pretending to be a celebrity? His profile is full of pictures of Ethan Cole.” Mom stated firmly, “That’s right. He is the actor Ethan Cole.” That just brought on louder, more explosive laughter. But when Ethan Cole actually showed up at our house for New Year’s Day, they stopped laughing. 1 On New Year’s Eve, the family was gathered around watching TV, but Mom’s phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. My Aunt Carol saw her chance and started poking around. “Megan, why are you glued to your phone giggling like that? Don’t tell me you’re online dating like some teenager?” For some reason, Aunt Carol had been nagging Mom all day about finding someone new. Ever since Mom got divorced, she and I had moved in with Grandma and Grandpa. But Aunt Carol kept saying that being around my dad for so long had rubbed off on us, that we had inherited his ‘scammer genes’ and would try to swindle Grandma and Grandpa out of their house. Funny, when our family was doing well financially, she was the one who visited the most, always managing to walk away with bags full of stuff. Sure enough, as soon as Aunt Carol saw Mom and me at Grandma’s today, her face soured. She slammed the door loud enough to shake the walls. The first thing out of her mouth after sitting down was, “So, Megan, when are you going to find your next meal ticket? You can’t just hang around your parents’ place in your thirties.” And now, here she was, starting up again. Except this time, she was actually right. There was a handsome man in Mom’s phone, and he even sent me snacks and toys sometimes. Mom blushed and quickly put her phone away, saying nothing. But wouldn’t you know it, my younger cousin Kevin snatched Mom’s phone right out of her hands. Mom doesn’t use a passcode, so he opened it easily. The screen was still on her recent chat history. Mom had saved the contact with a heart emoji. Kevin gasped, “Whoa, Aunt Megan really is dating someone online!” Mom scratched her head, nodding shyly. “I was planning to tell you all once things were a bit more stable.” I grabbed the phone back from Kevin, scolding him, “That’s rude!” But just as I got it, a slender hand plucked it away. My older cousin Chloe started scrolling through Mom’s online boyfriend’s social media feed. Suddenly, she burst out laughing, shaking so hard she almost dropped the phone. “Aunt Megan, your boyfriend is pretending to be a celebrity! His whole feed is pictures of Ethan Cole.” Chloe excitedly called over to Aunt Carol, “Mom, come look! It’s all Ethan Cole, the guy from that show you were binge-watching last month.” Uncle Rick and Aunt Carol crowded around, staring at the pictures of the handsome man on the phone. Aunt Carol started lecturing Mom in a patronizing tone, though the corners of her mouth were turned up in amusement. “You’ve definitely run into a scammer. Did the divorce mess with your head? How could you fall for something so obvious?” Mom got annoyed, insisting firmly, “I’m not being scammed. He is Ethan Cole.” That just led to another round of explosive laughter. Uncle Rick clutched his stomach, saying he was laughing so hard it hurt. “Come on, Sis. Think about it. A huge star like him? He’s got fans everywhere. And look at you – divorced, with Jenny to raise. Why would he possibly be interested in you? You’re dreaming.” Chloe took a picture of Ethan’s feed with her own phone and started typing furiously, even sending voice messages. “OMG, girls, you won’t believe this! My aunt is dating Ethan Cole online! LMAO!” After listening to a reply, Chloe chattered back into her phone, “Right? The scammer really knows how to target middle-aged women, though. Ethan Cole is like, the ultimate heartthrob for that generation.” Aunt Carol took Mom’s phone from Chloe and handed it back. “Megan, why don’t you try video calling him? You probably haven’t even done that, right? Bet it’s just some creep pretending on the other end.” 2 Mom quickly refused, “He’s rehearsing for a New Year’s broadcast right now! It’s not convenient for him to video chat!” “Rehearsing for a New Year’s broadcast? Oh my god, Aunt Megan, you’re killing me! Hahaha!” Chloe acted like she’d heard the funniest joke ever, bending over laughing and unable to straighten up. Uncle Rick sighed. “Sis, you can say stuff like this at home, but please don’t go embarrassing yourself outside.” Even Mom, who’s usually mild-tempered, started getting flustered. “I’m telling the truth! Don’t call!” But Aunt Carol had already hit the video call button. Sure enough, it rang for a long time with no answer. Not giving up, Aunt Carol tried again. Same result. Mom shrugged. “See? He’s busy right now.” Aunt Carol chuckled behind her hand, then pulled me aside. “Jenny, honey, talk some sense into your mom. She’s about to give you a scam artist for a stepfather.” Her words made me really uncomfortable. I pulled away and said seriously: “He’s not a scammer! I’ve seen him! He looks exactly like his pictures.” Once, our school had a big clean-up day, and we got out earlier than usual. When I came out of the school gate, I happened to see Mom talking to a man. But when he saw me, the man quickly looked down and walked away. It was only because I asked Mom later if her friend could come to the amusement park with us that he came back. He was tall and handsome, and standing next to Mom, they looked like what my teacher calls a perfect match. He’s definitely not a scammer! Aunt Carol’s face hardened, and she was about to scold me when Ethan Cole’s video call came through. Aunt Carol, quick as lightning, snatched the phone and answered. The lighting on his end was dim. You could vaguely see him looking down, tidying things up. “Hey Megan, what’s up? I was rehearsing and didn’t see my phone.” Uncle Rick, Aunt Carol, and Chloe all huddled closer. They couldn’t see his face clearly, their heads practically glued to the screen. Just then, he finished tidying up, picked up the phone, looked at the screen, and exclaimed, “Whoa! Who are you people?” Aunt Carol grabbed Chloe’s arm, her voice trembling slightly. “Chloe, doesn’t that voice sound exactly like him on TV?” Mom, clearly annoyed, took the phone back from them and exchanged a few brief pleasantries with Ethan Cole. When she turned back, Uncle Rick, Aunt Carol, and Chloe were just staring at each other, wide-eyed. Aunt Carol said, “I swear, that voice, and what I could see of him… it really seemed like Ethan Cole. But… that can’t be right, can it?” Chloe jumped in, her voice shrill. “Mom, you guys are so behind the times! That was probably an AI deepfake video. There are tons of scams like that going around lately.” Chloe then quickly searched for news articles about AI impersonation scams and showed them to Aunt Carol. Aunt Carol’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, right, right! That must be it!” 3 Grandma came out of the kitchen carrying a platter of food, calling out cheerfully, “Okay everyone, clear the table, time to eat!” Aunt Carol, Uncle Rick, and Chloe rushed to the dining table. In the end, Mom and I had to help Grandpa, who had just woken up from a nap, to his seat. Even though Grandpa has high cholesterol and sleeps a lot these days, his temper hasn’t softened a bit. At the table, Aunt Carol brought up Mom’s online dating again. Grandpa slammed his hand on the table and yelled, “Nonsense!” “When Jenny’s father got scammed, it was because you weren’t watching him properly! Are you going to get scammed again now?” I didn’t understand why Grandpa blamed Mom for Dad’s debts. Dad was the one who racked up debt and ran off. Mom only found out when the court came to repossess our house. Ever since Mom brought me here to Grandma’s house, Grandpa brings this up and blames Mom whenever he’s unhappy. Mom usually just listened silently, but this time she couldn’t hold back. “Dad, Gary was always like this. I saw the warning signs the first time he messed up. You were the one who insisted I give him another chance.” Grandpa’s face flushed with anger, his mustache bristling. “So your husband wasn’t good enough, and now you’re blaming your old man?” Aunt Carol chimed in to support him. “You know what they say, ‘for better or worse.’ Besides, you chose to marry him, didn’t you? How can you turn around and blame Dad now?” As Aunt Carol said this, I saw Uncle Rick nervously tugging at her sleeve. “That’s not how it happened at all!” Mom’s eyes turned red with hurt. “It was practically an arranged marriage! What choice did I have?” She murmured, “Dad, you ruined my career prospects back then for the sake of my brother. Are you going to control the rest of my life too?” Grandpa’s finger trembled as he pointed at Mom. “What- what are you saying? If I hadn’t brought you back, you’d still be in the city being some kind of… groupie?” I shouted, correcting him, “Not a groupie, Grandpa! An agent! A talent agent!” I had pestered Mom before to tell me stories about when she was young. Back then, Mom listened to Grandpa and went to work in a big city. She made some great friends who saw her potential and recommended her for a job as an agent. Mom said an agent’s job is to find work for the stars they manage, promote them, and help them become famous. Even though the agency was small and the actors Mom managed weren’t well-known, Mom said it was the happiest and freest time of her life. But later, when Grandpa heard about Mom’s job, he called it indecent, accused her of flaunting herself and not behaving properly, and actually went to her company, made a scene, and dragged her back home. As soon as Mom got back, Grandpa immediately arranged a marriage for her, forcing her to marry my dad, giving her absolutely no chance to resist. Mom only found out later that Grandpa was actually desperate for money to help Uncle Rick start a business, and that’s why he used the excuse about her job to bring her home and marry her off quickly. Hearing our conversation, Chloe’s interest was piqued. She put down her phone and stopped texting her friends, asking curiously: “What agent? You don’t mean like… a celebrity agent?” “Alright!” Uncle Rick cleared his throat, telling Chloe to be quiet. Then he said to Grandpa, “Dad, let’s not dredge up ancient history.” Grandma brought Grandpa a fresh pair of chopsticks and stepped in to smooth things over. “Let’s not argue on New Year’s. We still have the New Year’s Eve show to watch together after dinner.” I looked at Mom worriedly. She smiled and patted my hand, then lowered her head and took a bite of food. 4 After dinner, we all sat on the sofa to watch the New Year’s Eve specials on TV. My cousin Kevin complained, “It’s so crowded.” Aunt Carol, cracking sunflower seeds, remarked, “Well, there are two extra people this year, of course it’s crowded. Never heard of a married daughter coming back to her parents’ place for New Year’s Eve anyway.” Hearing Kevin say it was crowded, I started to get up to find him a small stool, but Mom stopped me. She asked Aunt Carol, “What exactly do you mean by that, Carol? I already told you I’ll look for a place of our own after the holidays.” Aunt Carol uncrossed her legs and sat up straight, facing Mom. “Megan, it’s not that I don’t want you here.” “I’m just worried you’ll get too comfortable and start thinking this is your house. What if you end up like your ex-husband and try to mortgage Mom and Dad’s house too?” Mom frowned. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say. I don’t owe anyone money. Why would I mortgage the house?” Chloe interjected with a worried expression, “My friend just sent me a bunch of news stories about people getting tricked by scammers into sending money or making donations online. Aunt Megan, be honest with us, how much has he scammed you out of already?” “He’s not a scammer,” Mom repeated tiredly, having said it several times already today. Just then, Aunt Carol pointed at the TV in shock. “Look! Isn’t that Ethan Cole?” On the screen, Ethan Cole was performing a solo, wearing a festive red suit. He was singing his own hit song, the one he wrote the lyrics for: “Moonlit Serenade.” Aunt Carol muttered to herself, “Why is he wearing the same clothes as in the video call earlier? Can scammers predict the future now?” Chloe patted Aunt Carol’s shoulder, explaining, “His performance outfit must have been leaked online by fans. Seriously, Aunt Megan, the scammer you’ve found is really meticulous.” Hearing this, Aunt Carol became even more convinced Mom was being duped. “Megan, this scammer really seems to have some tricks up his sleeve. Scams are so sophisticated these days, they can even fake what a big star is wearing on the same day! You absolutely cannot send him any more money.” Mom had been watching Ethan Cole’s performance with a soft smile, but Aunt Carol’s words made her expression harden again. After a long silence, Mom said, somewhat exasperated, “He is Ethan Cole! And I haven’t been scammed! If you really don’t believe me, should I ask him to come over for a New Year’s visit tomorrow so you can see for yourself?” Chloe secretly whispered in Aunt Carol’s ear, “Mom, I think she might actually be losing it.” “You said it! Let’s see Ethan Cole come visit our house,” Aunt Carol grinned, barely able to contain her amusement, eager to watch Mom make a fool of herself. But I was thrilled to hear this. I had secretly overheard Ethan telling Mom on the phone that he wanted to come visit for the holiday, but Mom kept saying they should wait. I’d been quite disappointed about that. 5 The next morning, Uncle Rick went out early, leaving Aunt Carol alone on the sofa, cracking sunflower seeds. “So, Megan, when is Ethan Cole arriving? If he doesn’t show up today, maybe you should start looking at apartments? Are you really planning to keep freeloading off Mom and Dad?” “He just finished his New Year’s performance. He’s on his way now.” “Right, right.” Aunt Carol smirked knowingly, spitting sunflower seed shells all over the floor. Grandma was mopping. Mom felt bad for Grandma, took the mop from her, and started cleaning, reminding Aunt Carol: “Don’t spit the shells on the floor. Mom just mopped there.” Aunt Carol scoffed, swinging her legs idly. Kevin was playing with my building blocks. I snatched them back from him. Having nothing to do, he started wandering around bored. Aunt Carol got up and went to the fridge, calling Kevin over. “Come here, sweetie. Mommy will steam some crab for you.” Suddenly, she exclaimed, “Oh dear, I didn’t realize Megan and Jenny would be here too. There are only six crab legs!” Then, with a look of mock apology, she said, “These are Alaskan King Crab legs, you know. Very special. We only splurge like this once a year for the holiday. Megan, surely you wouldn’t expect Mom and Dad to give up their share for you two.” Even I understood her implication – there were none for us. But I remembered there was still a whole box of crab legs in the freezer that Ethan Cole had sent over last time. Plenty to go around. Mom ignored Aunt Carol and put our entire box of crab legs in the steamer pot. It was packed full. When they were cooked, the aroma was incredible. Aunt Carol proudly declared that Alaskan King Crab always smelled that good, but when she went into the kitchen, she realized the delicious smell was coming from our crab legs. She immediately changed her tune, saying ours must have additives, that the smell was just artificial flavoring. At the table, Kevin finished the crab legs Aunt Carol had brought and reached for the ones Mom had steamed. Aunt Carol slapped his hand away with her chopsticks. “Don’t eat that junk. Who knows how long those freezer-burned things have been sitting there.” But Kevin threw a tantrum, whining and insisting he wanted to try one. Our crab legs were huge and looked much better than Aunt Carol’s; no wonder Kevin was tempted. He cracked open a shell and greedily started eating the meat inside. Aunt Carol got flustered and offered her own crab leg to him. “If you’re hungry, eat Mommy’s. Don’t eat that!” But Kevin threw the crab leg Aunt Carol offered onto the floor, shouting, “Aunt Megan’s crab is way better than yours!” Aunt Carol’s face turned ugly. Skeptically, she took one of our crab legs herself. The moment the crab meat hit her tongue, her eyes widened in astonishment. She was completely speechless. She silently finished the crab leg, then stared longingly at the platter, wanting another but too embarrassed to take one. Just then, the doorbell rang. “Is that Ethan?” I gasped, happily jumping down from my chair to answer the door. Aunt Carol muttered behind me, “No way, the scammer actually dared to show up…?” I opened the door, and standing there was a young man with a friendly face. His hands were full of bags, and he was balancing a large gift basket. He smiled when he saw me. “You must be little Jenny.” He had a baby face, but his voice was surprisingly deep, which startled me, making me step back. Aunt Carol peered over my shoulder, and her lips immediately curled into a smirk. “Seriously, Megan? This is your boyfriend? If he didn’t speak, I’d think he was your nephew! Hahaha…” “And you were so insistent it was Ethan Cole coming. You bring this guy instead? Are you trying to make fools out of us?”

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My brother got diagnosed with breast cancer, but my Mom thought the diagnosis was mine. I pleaded with her to take him to the hospital. To pay for his treatment, I sold my condo, drained my savings, and worked three jobs a day. Eventually, my brother recovered. But I collapsed from exhaustion, suffering a brain hemorrhage. I survived, but I was paralyzed. Mom resented that I couldn’t earn money for my brother anymore. She dumped me in an old pigsty back in our rural hometown, leaving me to fend for myself. Then she took my disability settlement money to buy my brother a house and a car, and pay for his wedding. That’s when I found out Mom had savings tucked away the whole time. After I starved to death, alone in that pigsty, I woke up, reborn on the day my brother was diagnosed with breast cancer. This time, I tossed the medical report aside. Treat him? Don’t treat him? Not my problem. … Coming out of the clinic, clutching the medical report – identical to the one from my past life – the reality of my rebirth finally hit me. My brother had breast cancer. Last time, I spent every penny I had to save him, neglecting my own health until it was too late. He got better. I became disabled. The memory alone sent a fresh wave of pain through my chest. Shoving the report into my bag, I hailed a cab home. Just as I reached the entrance to my apartment complex, I saw my brother, Leo, and his girlfriend, Chloe, standing on the street corner, talking animatedly, looking thrilled about something. I slowed down, creeping closer, and heard Chloe’s excited voice, “Are you serious? Your sister’s dying?” “Totally,” Leo sounded like he’d won the lottery. “I heard the hospital call her today. The doctor definitely said ‘breast cancer.’ And Mom said we’re not gonna treat it. As soon as she kicks the bucket, her little nest egg is all mine. We’ll have the house, the car, everything.” Chloe gasped. “Your mom really said that? But she’s always doting on your sister, Sarah, always saying how great she is.” Leo crossed his arms smugly. “That’s just an act. The more Mom praises her, the harder Sarah tries. A little flattery, play the victim card, and Sarah just hands over the cash.” Even though I’d lived through this betrayal before, the words still felt like knives twisting in my gut, leaving me numb. Mom always favored Leo, but I tried to understand. Raising two kids alone wasn’t easy, and for her generation, having a son probably felt like security. So, when she showed clear favoritism, I never complained. When she asked me to help Leo out financially, I always did, as long as it wasn’t totally unreasonable. Lately, Mom’s attitude seemed to have shifted. She’d constantly apologize in front of others, saying how daughters were more reliable than sons. I thought she’d finally seen the light. Turns out, she’d just mastered the art of manipulating me out of my money. I wanted to hear more, but just then, Chloe spotted me. Her face went white. “Sarah!” she stammered. Leo jumped when he saw me, a flicker of panic in his eyes, but he quickly composed himself. “Jeez, Sarah, you walk like a ghost! Scared the crap outta me.” My gaze hardened. I immediately put on a wounded expression. “Were you serious? What you just said? Is that really what Mom told you?” Maybe because he thought my days were numbered, Leo dropped the pretense. He straightened up. “Yeah, it’s true. Don’t get bent out of shape, sis. It sounds harsh, but it’s the truth. I’m the man of the house. Your stuff? It should all come to me eventually anyway.” His smug, punchable face was too much. I snapped. “Go to hell,” I spat, slapping him hard across the face. The stinging sound felt incredibly satisfying. Without another word, I spun around and stormed home. Mom was in the kitchen cooking. Seeing me, she put on her usual concerned face. “Sarah, honey, you’re back! Everything okay with the check-up results?” I dug my nails into my thigh, forcing tears. “Mom, did you really say… if I got cancer… you wouldn’t get me treated?” 2 Mom’s eyes widened. Before she could speak, she looked up and saw Leo walking in. “Leo!” she gasped. “What happened to your face?” Leo pointed at me, whining, “Sarah hit me.” He quickly recounted what had just happened outside. Mom’s expression changed instantly. She gave Leo a sharp swat on the behind. “You don’t talk to your sister like that! No matter what!” After scolding Leo, she turned to me. “Sarah, I already told your brother off. He shouldn’t have said those things. But honey, he’s kind of right, isn’t he? If you have this… disease… you’d need surgery, lose your breast, right? No man would want you after that. You’d probably lose your job too. Instead of living like that, with no dignity, isn’t it better to leave the money for your brother’s future, for his wedding?” She’d said similar things in my past life. Back then, I was so focused on saving Leo that I hadn’t really registered the cruelty. I’d just grabbed the report and dragged him to the hospital. This time, I listened quietly until she finished, then put on an even more devastated act. “So… what if it was Leo who got breast cancer? Would you not treat him either?” Mom’s eyes bulged. “How could you say such a horrible thing about your brother? Spit three times, quick! Don’t jinx him!” She didn’t answer my question, but I already knew the answer. Just like when I got accepted into a four-year university after high school. She claimed the tuition was too high, that Leo would need money for high school in three years, and forced me into community college instead. But when I graduated, Leo only managed to get into a vocational high school that cost $20,000 a year. She paid it without blinking. I pulled the medical report out of my bag. “Mom, here are the results. Maybe you should take a look after all.” She recoiled, snatching the report and tossing it straight into the trash can. “I can’t look, honey. I love you too much. It would break my heart.” I stared at her, my expression cold. Her words dripped with love, but when it came down to money, Leo always came first. Fine. If Mom only loved Leo, she could pour all her love into him. As for his illness… since they were both convinced I was the one who was sick, then sick I would be. I had given her a chance, after all. Still, I put on a show, sobbing dramatically. Then I told Mom, “Mom, I’ve thought about it. You’re right. I should leave all my money to Leo.” Mom seemed surprised I’d agreed so readily. After a few seconds, a smile spread across her face. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Since you’ve come to your senses, you should probably write a will.” So, she didn’t even trust my word. Under her watchful eye, I wrote the will. Since I wasn’t the one dying, I could have written hundreds without a problem. Just as I was trying to figure out how to leverage this fake illness to get some money from Mom, an opportunity fell into my lap. The day after I wrote the will, Mom led a man into my room. He looked rough, maybe in his late forties or early fifties, dressed in worn-out clothes. At first, I thought he was here to collect recycling. I was about to go find some cardboard boxes when Mom grabbed my arm. “Recycling? What are you talking about? This is the man I set you up with. For a date.” My jaw dropped. “This… this is who you set me up with?” “You’re in no position to be picky now!” she snapped. “Be grateful anyone would have you. And listen, don’t you dare mention anything about being sick. I already talked to him. Thirty thousand dollars for the wedding gift. It’ll be perfect for your brother’s wedding fund.” It hit me then. Mom wasn’t trying to find me a partner. She was trying to sell me. After the brief introduction, Mom and the matchmaker left, leaving me alone in the room with the older man. Without a second thought, he lunged at me. I screamed, “Get away from me, or I’m calling the cops!” The man flashed a mouthful of yellow teeth. “We’re gettin’ married, ain’t we? Gonna happen sooner or later. Just let me have a little fun first.” “You want to marry me?” I stared straight at him. “Fine. But I’ll tell you right now, I have cancer. If you pay for my treatment, then I’ll marry you.” The man froze. Less than a minute later, he bolted out the door. Half an hour later, Mom stormed back in, furious. “Sarah, are you crazy? I told you not to tell anyone about your illness! Now everyone knows you’re sick! How are you supposed to get married and earn that money for your brother now?” I blinked innocently. “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry. It just slipped out. But really, what kind of guy was that? Only thirty thousand? So cheap! You know what? I bet I could find a guy who’d pay a million for me. Believe it?” 3 “A million?” Mom’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Are you serious?” I nodded, pulling out my phone and showing her a flyer. “Remember my middle school classmate, Maya? She took one of those ‘how to marry rich’ workshops. Within a month, she landed some trust fund kid. Got like seven hundred thousand in wedding gifts. I’m prettier than her, and I actually went to college. I could definitely get a million.” Mom didn’t quite buy my bluff. Instead, when Leo got home, she showed him the flyer. Hearing about the workshop, Leo slapped his thigh. “Oh yeah, I know about those! Some guys from my school did stuff like that. Maybe didn’t land a millionaire, but they made bank later doing social media stuff, like hundreds of thousands. With Sarah’s looks? Signing her up is a guaranteed win!” I knew Leo would say that. After all, I’d seen the flyer when I was messing around on his phone earlier. Mom’s eyes lit up. She handed the flyer back to me. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go sign up!” “Signing up is no problem,” I said, looking pitifully at Mom. “But I don’t have the money.” At the mention of money, Mom’s face fell. “I don’t have cash to spare. Use your own.” I immediately played the victim. “Mom, all my money is tied up in a Certificate of Deposit! It doesn’t mature for another year. If I take it out now, I’ll lose like three thousand in interest! It’s just not worth it.” Normally, Mom wouldn’t care less about losing three grand of my interest. But now, thinking all my money would soon be Leo’s, she suddenly felt the pinch. “How much do you need?” I held up three fingers. “Three thousand.” Mom transferred it to me instantly. She had no idea that three thousand was just the beginning. Three thousand for the course, sure. But to be a ‘socialite’, I needed clothes, right? Jewelry? Makeup? After the three thousand came ten thousand. Thirteen thousand was pretty much Mom’s limit. Just as she started grumbling daily about my spending, I brought a ‘rich boyfriend’ home to meet her. A fancy fruit basket, some flashy (but fake) gold jewelry – cheap tricks – and Mom gave me another ten thousand to buy a gift for my ‘future mother-in-law’. After that, I arranged for the ‘families’ to meet. At dinner, my fake future mother-in-law gifted Mom some more plated gold junk and promised a wedding gift of two million dollars. Mom was so ecstatic she couldn’t see straight. Without blinking, she gave me a hundred thousand dollars to go on an overseas trip with my rich ‘boyfriend’. I knew that hundred thousand was basically Mom’s entire life savings. She was really betting everything on me landing this ‘rich guy’. I quit my job, took the hundred thousand, and flew to Europe. Everything I’d never bought, never seen, never eaten before – I experienced it all. Of course, a hundred grand wasn’t nearly enough. So, behind Mom’s back, I sold my condo and blew through my savings too. By the time the money ran out, six months had passed. Mom called, furious. “You damn girl! Are you done playing around yet? When is that guy giving us the money? If he doesn’t pay up soon, I’m going straight to his family!” Swirling a glass of wine, I replied calmly, “It’s coming soon. What’s wrong? Why are you in such a hurry, Mom?” “Your brother’s girlfriend is pregnant! They’re planning the engagement party!” Mom’s voice was laced with venom. “Her family wants fifty thousand for the engagement gift. You get that money from your boyfriend right now! If he won’t give it, borrow it! You must bring fifty thousand to your brother’s engagement party the day after tomorrow!” She hung up. I waited a day, then photoshopped a bank transfer confirmation screenshot and sent it to her. 【Mom, the money came through. I’ll head straight to the hotel tomorrow. Don’t worry about a thing.】 My phone buzzed twice. Mom’s reply: 【Good girl! I knew you wouldn’t let Mom down! See, raising a daughter is better than raising a son after all.】 Reading that message made me sick to my stomach. But I couldn’t deny the thrill of anticipation. The engagement party was going to be quite a show. Leo’s engagement party was held at the fanciest hotel in the city. I rented a luxury car for my arrival. As soon as I walked in, all eyes were on me. I hadn’t seen Leo in a while. His chest looked… noticeably larger. When someone pointed it out, he puffed up with pride. “It’s muscle, idiot! What do you know?” When he saw me, he rushed over. “Where’s my future brother-in-law?” “He had something urgent come up. Couldn’t make it.” He lowered his voice. “Did the money arrive?” I nodded. Leo beamed and ran off to brag to someone else. After the usual engagement rituals, the two families sat down to officially discuss the money. Chloe’s mother addressed my Mom: “We originally wanted a hundred thousand. Chloe’s our only daughter, after all. But she felt bad for you, knowing you raised two kids alone, so we agreed on fifty thousand.” Mom, despite being prepared, still tried to haggle. “Fifty thousand… isn’t that a bit much?” The other side bristled. “Too much? Your daughter supposedly landed two million! We’re only asking for fifty thousand! That’s more than fair! Are you serious about this marriage or not?” Leo got anxious too, nudging Mom. “Mom!” Mom immediately backed down and told me to hand over the money. With both families watching, I took out a bank card. Just as I was about to hand it to Chloe’s mother, I pulled back. “Auntie, we can give you the money. But there’s one condition.” Chloe’s mother frowned, clearly annoyed, but the prospect of cash kept her polite. “What condition?” “The baby Chloe’s carrying must be a boy. After all,” I said, locking eyes with her, “my brother is dying. Mom can’t spend her retirement savings on a baby girl who won’t carry on the family name!”

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The son I’d raised for years told me to drop dead. Then, a speeding car really did send me flying. Three months later, my son found me, sobbing hysterically as he clutched my half-rotted body. But he didn’t have a mom anymore. 1 “The victim was beyond saving the moment the speeding car hit. It’s a traffic accident.” I floated in the air, watching the cops and the medical examiner gather around my corpse. The street was decked out for New Year’s Eve, festive red lanterns hanging from the lampposts. It was supposed to be a night for families to be together. Because of me, these officers had to work overtime. I whispered an apology, though they couldn’t hear me. The ME carefully cradled my head. “This is the victim’s head. The other half of the body is over there…” Seeing the state I was in, even a veteran cop had to quietly turn away and retch. My body was smashed to pieces. Even I found it disgusting. After more than three hours of work, the police managed to collect my body fragments into a body bag. I followed the patrol car to the hospital morgue. “No ID on the body. The security cameras on Gold Street were down, so we can’t trace her movements. We’ll have to wait for her family to report her missing.” “Such a shame, dying on New Year’s Eve.” “Her family might still be waiting for her to celebrate. How heartbreaking must that be?” Hearing the officers, my vision dimmed, and I lowered my head, feeling dejected. The cops placed the body bag in the morgue and then walked right through me. I was the only “person” left in the morgue. No, I guess I’m not really a person anymore. The police said they were waiting for my family to file a report, but I didn’t know if my son would even notice I was gone. I sighed. If only I hadn’t gone out to buy meat. My son and daughter-in-law suddenly showed up from out of town on New Year’s Eve, and the fridge was empty. Living alone, I usually ate simple, vegetarian meals. When my son finally came back, I didn’t think twice before heading out to get some meat. Up north, you have to have dumplings for the New Year. But no butcher shops were open on the holiday. I searched for over an hour. As I crossed the street, a speeding Audi hit me… I stared at my own corpse. When would my son find out I was dead? 2 I floated back home. It was an unremarkable old apartment building, seven stories high. My legs weren’t what they used to be, so I lived on the first floor. My son, Kevin, was on the couch, making a call. I saw the number he dialed – it was my old flip phone. But I was dead. How could a dead person answer the phone? “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable…” “Damn old woman! Not picking up again!” Kevin slammed the phone down on the coffee table, his face, which resembled mine in some ways, contorted with anger. His wife, Tiffany, shrugged nonchalantly. “Why bother with her? The real reason we came today is to find the deed to the house.” Kevin stared darkly at the phone, then after a moment, grunted, “You’re right.” Kevin and Tiffany started rummaging through my apartment, quickly turning the neat and tidy place into a chaotic mess. Tiffany, sweating, cursed under her breath, “Damn old woman! Where the hell did she hide the deed?” Kevin, panting, looked at the photo of us hanging on the wall. Suddenly, he punched it hard! His fist landed right on my face in the picture. “Damn old woman! Just hurry up and die!” Even though I was already dead, hearing my son say that still shattered my heart. Ever since he was little, I did everything I could to give him whatever he wanted. Now, I really was dead. His wish would soon come true. I gazed at Kevin’s sullen profile, my nose stinging, and rubbed my burning eyes. 3 Kevin hated my guts. He thought I was responsible for his father’s death. When I was twenty, I met a handsome man who knew how to charm girls. Naturally, I fell head over heels. His family was poor, so the next year, he moved in with my family – essentially marrying into it. Soon, we had our little bundle of joy, Kevin. Gradually, I realized the man never loved me. He loved my family’s financial stability, our money. From a young age, he poisoned Kevin’s mind against me, teaching him to dislike and hate me, driving a wedge between us. I thought about divorce countless times, but looking at Kevin, I always chose to endure it. When my parents passed away, the man didn’t shed a single tear. My parents left me an apartment building, but when the lawyer read the will, the man was nowhere to be found. I searched frantically, finally finding him in a hotel bed. With a beautiful young woman beside him… The woman they caught me with seemed to have no sense of shame, smiling provocatively at me. “What do you have besides rich parents? Now that they’re dead, this is karma!” I trembled with rage. For the first time, I firmly uttered the word “divorce.” The man visibly panicked! He died chasing after me, hit by falling steel bars from a construction site. Rescuers couldn’t save him. From that day on, Kevin started hating me. He blamed everything on me, shouting, “Why did you have to divorce Dad? Dad was the backbone of this family! If you hadn’t divorced him, he wouldn’t have died!” I faced my hate-filled son, feeling helpless and lost, opening my mouth but unable to find the words. I couldn’t just tell him that the father he’d worshipped since childhood was a cheat and a leech… I tried carefully to protect his young heart. But he was convinced that all the family money came from his father’s hard work. He saw me as a greedy, high-and-mighty parasite. Selfish and cruel. Kevin had always been a good student, but after his father died, he studied even harder. “Sooner or later, I’ll get into a top university out of state, and then I’ll get far away from you!” he spat at me viciously. I didn’t know whether to feel proud or heartbroken. Every night, Kevin would study until two or three in the morning. He desperately wanted to succeed, to prove to me that I was wrong! What he didn’t know was that every night, after he fell asleep, I would quietly tuck him back in after he kicked off his blanket. Kevin envied his classmates’ brand-name clothes and shoes, staring intently at the TV commercials. I secretly measured his height and size, then bought him the clothes he wanted. He wouldn’t accept gifts from me, so I asked his aunt – my cousin – to give them to him. I secretly nurtured him with gentle motherly love, wanting him to thrive. Kevin was ambitious; his grades shot up like a rocket. Every time he did well on a test, he’d brag to me: “Just wait! I’ll prove I can do fine without you! I’ll get into a great university! After graduation, I’ll get a job and make millions a year!” I smiled silently. I never particularly hoped for Kevin to achieve great fame and fortune. Every year when I went hiking or visited temples, I only prayed for his lifelong happiness and safety. 4 Kevin and Tiffany, tired from searching for the deed, sat down on the couch to rest. The New Year’s Eve TV special was on, featuring a comedy sketch about motherly love. Tiffany wasn’t paying attention to the show at all, asking irritably, “Where could the old woman have hidden the deed?” Rumors had been circulating that my building was slated for demolition and redevelopment. I hadn’t expected Kevin and Tiffany’s New Year visit to be solely about the deed. I felt a pang of sadness. If only he had asked, I would have given it to him without a second thought. Kevin now worked for a large corporation, earning a yearly salary. Tiffany was an elementary school teacher. They met in college, fell in love, and finally got married this past spring. I remember on Kevin’s wedding day, we had a massive fight. He hadn’t invited me to the wedding; I found out from his aunt. Unable to contain my complicated feelings, I went to the venue alone. The moment Kevin saw me, veins bulged on his forehead. He roughly grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the exit! “I explicitly didn’t invite you! Get out! Get the hell out!” “Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be my mother! And you definitely don’t deserve to be at my wedding!” In the struggle, I fell hard! I landed on the ground, unable to move, tears welling up as I looked at Kevin, reaching out a trembling hand. “Mom just wanted to see you…” Kevin kicked my shoulder and spat! He turned and left without looking back, instructing the venue security not to let me in under any circumstances. I lay there at the entrance, my whole body feeling like it had fallen apart, completely unable to get up. Passersby stared at me strangely. I was drenched in cold sweat. When the wind blew, a bone-chilling coldness washed over me. Some kind soul took me to the hospital. The diagnosis: a fractured left femur and a fractured right shoulder… Because of my age, my recovery took much longer than usual. I stayed in the hospital for half a month. Kevin came to see me, holding a bouquet of flowers. I was so thrilled I didn’t know what to do. But then, he violently threw the flowers in my face! “Damn old woman! Now everyone at the company says I beat you up and broke your bones! I had to switch to another company, and my salary is half of what it was!” “Are you satisfied now? Wasn’t killing Dad enough for you? You won’t be happy until you’ve ruined me too, right?” I stared blankly at my furious son, not understanding what he was talking about. “I didn’t…” “Shut up!” He grabbed my collar forcefully, choking me until I could barely breathe. “From now on, I never want to see your old face again!” Kevin stormed out, leaving red petals scattered all over the bed, looking like blood spilled from my body. 5 It was almost midnight. Sporadic fireworks started popping outside. The doorbell rang— Kevin opened the door, his gloomy face instantly replaced with a beaming smile. “Aunt Judy, you’re here?” The woman, dressed in expensive designer clothes, had long, curly hair. Though wrinkles creased the corners of her eyes, you could still see she was attractive in her youth. My chest felt like it had been struck by a hammer! The pain was overwhelming! How could it be her! Judy Roth was my husband’s first love; they grew up in the same small town. After we married, they continued their entanglement. After I found out, Judy repeatedly provoked and humiliated me… Tiffany brought out two luxury brand shopping bags and handed them over respectfully. “This is a little something to show our respect.” Judy’s still-charming eyes crinkled into a smile as she chided them gently, “You newlyweds are just starting out. You need to learn to save money, don’t spend it on things like this.” She accepted the luxury goods while adopting the posture of an elder. Judy was naturally skilled at reading people, knowing exactly what to say to whom. When she was young, she clung to my husband. Now that she was older, who knows when she started getting close to my son! I glared at Judy, filled with resentment. Judy slipped on slippers and walked into the room, giving Kevin and Tiffany each a symbolic red envelope. “Wishing you two a harmonious and beautiful new year.” I saw the envelopes contained maybe two hundred dollars in total – utterly pathetic. Yet Kevin, accepting the envelope, beamed with a happiness and respect I had never seen him show me. “Thanks, Aunt Judy!” It was almost midnight, the start of a new year. Tiffany had prepared several dishes, placing them on the table one by one, filling the air with delicious aromas. I watched Kevin, Tiffany, and Judy interact warmly, looking like a real family of three. Judy glanced at the time and stood up. “It’s getting late, I should go.” Kevin urged her to stay. “Don’t go, Aunt Judy. Stay and celebrate the New Year with us.” Judy shook her head. “This is your mother’s house, after all. It wouldn’t be good if she walked in on us.” “What’s not good about it!” Kevin retorted. “Let her see! Aunt Judy, please sit down. We’ve spent the last few New Years together, this year should be no exception.” Spending New Year together… Ever since Kevin went to college, he never came home for New Year’s, not even a phone call. Every year, every day… I guarded this house alone, lonely, watching the lively scenes outside. So, Kevin had met Judy during his first year of college. After he started dating Tiffany, the three of them often spent New Year’s together. Judy hesitated for a moment, then pretended to reluctantly sit back down. Ha. We’re both women. Who doesn’t understand the other? Judy said she wanted to leave quickly, but her eyes greedily scanned my house, touching this and that. Judy asked, “I hear this building is in a good school district? The buyout for demolition is three times that of a regular residential building.” Kevin nodded. Judy sighed. “Your dad had a good eye, picking this building to buy back then.” I wanted to laugh scornfully. This building was left to me by my parents from the start. What did it have to do with anyone else? Judy pressed her hand to her heart, her eyes welling up. “It’s all my fault. If I had been firmer back then, your mom wouldn’t have forcibly broken your dad and me up, and your dad wouldn’t have died.” Kevin comforted her gently. “Aunt Judy, don’t be sad. It’s all that vicious woman’s fault! You never married, staying devoted to my dad’s memory. I should learn from you.” Judy dabbed her tears with a handkerchief. Kevin seemed moved and spoke solemnly, “Aunt Judy, if you don’t mind, from now on, I’ll be your son. I’ll take care of you in your old age!” “But your mother…” “I would never take care of that cruel-hearted woman! She only gave birth to me; she never raised me!” “Well…” The clock struck midnight. I watched, helpless, as Kevin knelt on both knees and bowed three times to Judy Roth. “Mom! From now on, I’m your son!” Judy stepped forward and hugged Kevin, murmuring, “Good son…”

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Finding out I was the switched-at-birth “wrong” daughter in a mega-rich family made me decide to just… check out. At the party officially welcoming the real daughter, she was dazzling everyone. My adoptive mother told me I should learn from her. Me: “If people better than me are still trying so hard, what’s the point of me trying?” My best friend warned me to get a job, worried I’d be married off for connections otherwise. Me: “Work just makes you crazy. No thanks.” My main goal? Just sticking around. 1 Being an heiress with millions to my name meant coasting through life was totally doable. The biggest problem? Turns out, I was an imposter. Super awkward. A week ago, Mom and Dad dropped the bomb: I was swapped at birth. Their biological daughter, Megan, had been found. My birth parents? No clue where they are. Mom and Dad didn’t want me to leave, so I just stayed, living in this weird limbo. Everyone gushed about how Megan was clearly a Sterling, perfect and accomplished despite growing up elsewhere. Unlike me. Even with the Sterlings pouring money into my upbringing, I was basically just… decorative. Mom heard the whispers and told me to be more like Megan. She said, “Your father and I spoiled you, didn’t push you. But you’re grown now, can’t you get your act together?” Not a chance. Effort gives me hives. I just want to chill. Besides, I suspected “getting her act together” was code for “know your place.” Without the Sterling heiress title, and being useless at everything, how could I possibly fit in here anymore? While I was moping, Megan slid into the family seamlessly in just a few days. She had Mom and Dad laughing constantly, even helping Megan sort through gifts for the welcome party. The three of them looked so happy, like a perfect family. Watching them, I wasn’t exactly jealous, but I wasn’t sad either. Truth is, I was never the favorite child here anyway. Having a daughter like me, who achieved nothing, was a constant source of worry for them. And I’m not the type to suck up. So, we coexisted politely, like strangers under the same roof. Megan’s arrival gave them hope. Because of that, Mom urged me to get closer to Megan, maybe ask her for tips on how to be… less useless. I sighed. “It’s not like you can just learn that.” Mom snapped, “Why not? We indulged you before, but now you have a perfect example right here! Can’t you even copy her?” Megan overheard and shot me a smug look, like, You’ll never measure up. Seriously? I’m the fake one. Why would I even compete? Isn’t lying low the better option? And anyway, I’m me. Why would I want to imitate someone else? I replied flatly, “Because Megan’s amazing and hardworking.” Before Mom could crack a smile, I added: “People way better than me are working their butts off. So why should I even bother?” I know my limits. Doing extra? Not my thing. Mom got so mad she actually threw a small vase nearby. “Listen to yourself!” I dodged it and jammed my hands in my pockets, heading upstairs. Behind me, I heard Megan’s soft voice comforting Mom: “Maybe Ashley’s just having a hard time accepting this… that’s why she’s trying to upset you.” “If it helps, I could move out… until she calms down, then I can come back.” Wow. What a masterclass in playing the victim. Nice try, but I wasn’t taking the bait. Mom gasped, “Absolutely not! This is your home!” I glanced back down at Megan. She looked up, a flicker of triumph in her eyes. She put on her most generous face. “I just want you all to be happy. It doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.” Mom fumed, “Why should you leave? If anyone goes, it should be…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes met mine. I tilted my head, thinking. “So… I should leave?” 2 The couple who raised Megan found her abandoned near a hospital. Which means, after being swapped, she was also ditched. My own origins were a mystery, so staying with the Sterlings was the temporary plan. Megan seemed to think my birth parents were trash, and that I’d unfairly benefited for years. She saw me as a thorn in her side. She clearly wanted me gone at the welcome party, but it didn’t happen. From then on, I knew we couldn’t both exist peacefully in this house. Even if I didn’t fight for anything. I glanced around my old bedroom – now Megan’s. It felt empty. A moment later, Megan appeared, looking suspicious. “What are you doing in my room?” I tapped my head. “Oops, sorry. Wrong room.” The day she arrived, Megan had mentioned liking my bedroom. Given my shaky status, I’d quietly moved out of it. Now, she was using it against me. She smirked knowingly. “You’d better get used to the new arrangement. Quickly.” I got her drift. What was hers, she intended to reclaim. Whether it was an identity or a room. But honestly, I didn’t want to fight over it. “After you!” I quickly retreated to my new, smaller room. Ugh! I mentally groaned like a beached whale. This is exhausting. I have zero interest in family drama. All I want is to chill! Maybe moving out soon is the best plan. I called my best friend, Chloe. “Hey, know any decent places to crash?” “Places? Honey, I’ve got properties. Just pick one, I’ll have it cleaned up for you.” Her casual wealth always took my breath away. Even as the supposed Sterling heiress, I only had one small apartment provided by the family. And now, even that was gone. Chloe added, “Things are awkward for you now. Maybe you should get a job? What’s your plan otherwise?” I rolled over on the bed. “Work drives people nuts. Being a couch potato sounds way better.” Slacking off was my true calling. Chloe was silent for a long moment, then practically ground out, “Fine! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” before hanging up. I clutched my phone, feeling a little lost. Trying hard really is pointless. Megan is clearly out to get me. Whatever I do, I’ll just be used to make her look better. So, might as well do nothing. Saves energy, and stops me from setting her up for success. Because she’s the real deal, and I’m the fake. 3 Mom and Dad think I only found out the truth the day Megan came back. Not true. I knew everything while they were still searching for her. Everyone was hiding it from me, probably scared I’d cause a scene. So, I played along, pretending ignorance. Today’s events just showed me exactly where I stand with them. I appreciate them letting me stay, but they’ve clearly chosen sides. After thinking it over, I decided to leave the Sterling house. Everything I owned technically belonged to them anyway. I’d just take myself. Mom grabbed my arm. “Ashley, are you still upset about what I said earlier?” I shook my head. “I shouldn’t be imposing here anymore.” “I only took my ID and cards. I’ll work to pay back everything you spent on me over the years.” I came downstairs carrying just a small plastic bag with my wallet inside. Even my phone – I left the handset, only taking the SIM card. Megan scoffed, “Such a temper. How will you survive?” I nodded agreeably. “Yep, you’re right. My future looks terrible.” She fumed, about to say more, but Mom stopped her. “Megan, Ashley didn’t do anything wrong.” That flipped Megan’s switch. She yelled, “Nothing wrong? I suffered out there while she lived my life in luxury! How is that fair?” Mom immediately softened, hugging her. “That’s not what I meant. Megan, don’t cry. I’ll make her leave right now.” Just like that, I became “her.” I placed the bag on a table, opened the front door, ready to leave the house I’d lived in for almost twenty years. Chloe was waiting outside. When she heard I was leaving with nothing, she drove straight over. Mom watched me, seeming hesitant. My heart twinged slightly. Before I could say anything comforting, she delivered the final blow. “Ashley, since you’re leaving… maybe you should take care of getting your name off the family records soon.” She held Megan gently. “Megan has been through so much. We can’t let her down anymore.” My mind went blank for a second, but I managed a reply. “Tomorrow.” Mom’s expression instantly relaxed. “Okay. Drive safe, you two.” I watched as Mom closed the heavy Sterling front door without a backward glance. From now on, that place had nothing to do with me. Chloe took me to her huge house, rambling the whole way. “Seriously, Ash, just come work with me.” I looked at her. “Nope.” Chloe: … Her face darkened. “Give me one good reason why you won’t get a job.” I handed her my phone, showing her an app screen. “Is this reason good enough?” Chloe let out a shriek. “Ashley Sterling! You actually…” She practically slid across the floor to grab my leg. “You’re the legendary stock market guru everyone whispers about?!” 4 Growing up, I had zero interest in piano, ballet, or French lessons. No matter how many tutors Mom and Dad hired, they all eventually gave up on me, frustrated. When I got a bit older and understood what the family business was, I actually got interested in commerce. Sometimes, Dad would have video conferences in his study, and I’d just hang out and listen. He didn’t seem to mind. Until one time, I noticed a flaw in the data for a bid they were preparing. I pointed it out directly to Dad. After that, he changed. He wouldn’t let me in the study anymore. He’d kick me out during meetings. I was hurt, thinking I’d messed up and made him angry. So, I asked everyone in the house what Dad liked, planning to buy him something nice to get back in his good graces. Instead, I overheard him arguing with Mom. Mom said, “If Ashley has a knack for business, why not let her learn from you?” Dad sounded annoyed. “We can’t let a girl get too ambitious. She needs to marry well. Are we going to hand the company over to some outsider husband?” Mom argued back, “Ashley’s our daughter! She’d definitely…” Dad’s voice was cold. “There are no ‘definitelies’. You need to focus on getting healthy. If you can’t give me a son, I’ll find someone who can!” I didn’t hear Mom argue anymore. I knew she’d given in. From that day on, I was the useless daughter, groomed solely to be a pawn in a strategic marriage. When Chloe heard this part of my “trophy daughter” origin story, she was so mad she started throwing pillows around her living room. “I always wondered! You were so smart in middle school, then suddenly tanked your grades near graduation! It was your parents!” I shrugged. “Well, someone else has taken over my role and duties now. I’m free.” Megan was undoubtedly the perfect candidate for a marriage alliance. Prettier than me, more accomplished, and desperate for Mom and Dad’s approval. I bet the three of them would be very happy together. As for me? I’ll just curl up quietly in a corner and count my money. “And here I was worried sick about you! You didn’t tell me anything!” Chloe sounded both angry and impressed by my low-key baller status. Someone like me, who just wants a chill life, isn’t exactly going to broadcast that she’s a secret stock trader, right? “Fine, don’t get a job. It’s not like you’ll starve.” 5 I prioritized getting my name legally changed and severing official ties with the Sterlings. I handled it as quickly as possible. Not only that, I chose a new name for myself. Making a clean break from the Sterling family, completely. Dad pointed his finger at me, yelling, “I always knew you were too ambitious! Good riddance with the name change, you’re not a Sterling anymore!” Mom was teary. “Ashley, why are you being so stubborn? We raised you for so many years.” I was genuinely confused. “Weren’t you the ones who asked me to sort out the legal stuff?” I did exactly what they wanted, even changed my name as a bonus, and they’re still not happy? Is rich people logic different from normal people logic? Megan slammed a bill down in front of me. “Since you’re so capable, pay back the money you owe.” I glanced at the itemized list. “Which account should I transfer it to?” Megan smugly produced a bank card. “Dad said this all should have been mine. Consider it compensation. Transfer it here.” The final amount was roughly what I’d calculated myself. I transferred the money immediately. The three of them stared, stunned. Megan looked blankly at Dad. “Did she steal money from the house? Or did you secretly give her money again?” I frowned. “Ms. Sterling, I earned this money through my own skills. Please don’t insult my intelligence.” The allowance account the Sterlings set up for me? I hadn’t touched a dime. The seed money for my trading came from part-time jobs I worked. I was always careful, scared Mom and Dad would check my bank statements and find out I was trading stocks. They would have clamped down even harder. Even though I told myself I didn’t care, deep down, I didn’t want them to be wary of me. Things reaching this point was unexpected for everyone. Mom reached out. “Ashley…” I stepped back. “Mom, this is probably the last time I’ll call you that. Take care of yourself. And… my name is Ava Hayes now.” The name I chose for my new life. With that, I turned and left. Behind me, I heard Mom’s heartbroken cry: “Ashley!” I didn’t look back. They’ll never know that money was supposed to be a surprise birthday gift for them. I had planned to proudly tell them I didn’t want the Sterling fortune, that I was starting my own business. My purpose wasn’t to be dressed up like a doll for show, or to be paraded around as a marriage prospect. I was just me. 6 The immediate transfer of funds clearly rattled the Sterlings. That same day, they made sure everyone knew I’d been kicked out of the family. Suddenly, the story was everywhere: I was the imposter who’d usurped the real heiress’s place. Megan, being the darling of the moment and a popular lifestyle blogger, easily gained massive online support. Trolls found my old, barely used social media accounts and launched a campaign of cyberbullying, venting their outrage on Megan’s behalf. 【Lived the high life meant for Megan for so long, finally got what you deserved!】 【Heard you’re totally useless, can’t do anything right lol】 【Blood will tell. No amount of fancy upbringing can make you compare to even Megan’s little finger!】 【You spent so much of the Sterlings’ money! Got the nerve to change your name but not pay it back?】 【Yeah, PAY IT BACK! It all belongs to Megan!】 【All that money spent on you and you’re still a failure. Poor Megan, having her place taken by that for years.】 I posted a screenshot of the final bill, marked paid, stating I had settled my expenses with the Sterling family. While some users were surprised I paid it back so quickly, they saw it was the Sterlings’ own calculation, and no one accused me of stealing from them directly. My straightforward attitude seemed to calm things down a bit, and the focus shifted away from me for a moment. Just when I thought it was over, Megan started posting vague things online. She subtly implied the money I repaid was actually given to me by the Sterlings, adding that I was ungrateful – money could be repaid, but the debt of raising me couldn’t. 【See? Knew a freeloader like her couldn’t earn that kind of cash.】 【Probably just spare change for the Sterlings, enough for her to live comfortably forever.】 【How dare she claim she ‘paid it back’? Shameless.】 【Feel so bad for Megan, coming home to all this drama. Maybe she was better off before.】 【This adopted girl is seriously ungrateful. Thinks paying back money settles everything?】 【The Sterlings raised her like their own for over a decade! How can she be so cold?】 【Looks like Megan is fitting in well. Her parents probably prefer her anyway.】 【Good, glad to hear it. Megan deserves better than constantly being reminded of this mess.】 The Sterlings chimed in at the right moment, officially stating Megan was their exceptional daughter, and the Chairman and his wife were incredibly proud of her. Online sleuths dug up my old school records. Comparing them to Megan’s achievements made my expulsion from the family seem like a cause for public celebration. Chloe was furious. She wanted to hire hackers to go after Megan, but I stopped her. “Doing that will just give them more ammunition.” No matter what, the fact remained: the Sterlings raised me, and Megan did suffer. In the public eye, I was expected to just take Megan’s digs and anger. Unless she did something truly outrageous, reacting would make me look bad. “Besides,” I added, “the Sterlings aren’t the only ones who can produce bank statements.” Because I’d overheard that argument between my adoptive parents years ago, I’d always kept a separate bank account. My own money, earned from those part-time jobs and early trades, went into that account. The Sterling allowance card was separate. I used my own card for things I liked, secretly stashing purchases at Chloe’s place, never daring to let my family know. My apparent “frugality” even earned me praise from Mom a few times. Back then, I felt guilty. Now, I felt incredibly lucky. I addressed the money issue again online. I stated clearly that I never forgot the debt of gratitude for being raised by the Sterlings, and if they ever truly needed help, I would provide assistance. People mocked me mercilessly. The Sterlings were a wealthy dynasty. What kind of help could I possibly offer?

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My father disappeared. The day after I reported him missing, I received his severed hand. Soon after, his body was found. My father’s mistress and my boyfriend were listed as suspects. Betrayed by those closest to me, I cried uncontrollably in public, but deep down, I was secretly smiling. They didn’t know yet—I was the one who killed him! … My father’s secretary called to tell me he was missing. I was out of town, but I rushed back that night to my father’s house. I pushed the door open. The whole house was dark and silent. A gust of wind whistled past my ear with a low moan, making my heart pound. I quickly fumbled for the light switch in the entryway. The light flooded a scene of chaos. Ceramic shards littered the floor, along with scattered fruit and splatters of blood. My legs gave out, and I collapsed, hands trembling as I pulled out my phone to call 911. Twenty minutes later, the police arrived. They put up yellow tape, then, fully geared up, entered the living room to process the scene. “Detective Evans,” I asked, my voice shaking, “my dad… he’s going to be okay, right?” “Ms. Miller,” Detective Evans said, “we can’t be sure yet. But rest assured, we’ll do everything we can to find your father. Once we’re done here, please check if anything valuable is missing.” After the police finished their initial sweep, I put on shoe covers and gloves and started checking for missing items. “Are you sure nothing’s gone?” Detective Evans asked later. I shook my head. “Besides what’s broken on the floor… there’s a safe missing. Nothing else seems to be gone.” “Alright. Please come with us to the station to give a formal statement.” 2 At the police station, I took a sip of water, trying to calm myself. “Okay, I’m ready.” Detective Evans started. “Your name, please?” “Sarah Miller.” “Who is the missing person? And what is your relationship to him?” “The missing person is Steven Miller. He’s my father.” “When did he go missing?” “I don’t know exactly. When I got back from my business trip, the house was like this. I called his secretary, who said Dad hadn’t shown up for work since April 21st.” “You didn’t contact him while you were away?” “My dad’s usually very busy, and I was busy with the trip too, so we didn’t talk much.” Later, the police asked for my father’s personal information and details about his social circle. I answered everything. Finally, I asked anxiously, “My father was always kind to people. How could he just disappear?” Tears started streaming down my face as I spoke. Detective Evans told me to try and stay calm, then continued, “When was the last time you saw your father?” “The last time was two days before I left for my trip. That was April 15th.” Detective Evans looked up at me. “You remember the date clearly, Ms. Miller.” I gave a bitter smile. “That day was the anniversary of my mother’s death. I went to ask Dad to visit her grave with me, but he said he didn’t have time.” Recalling that day, something clicked. “Oh, Detective Evans, on the anniversary, Dad said he was busy because he thought there were problems with the company finances. He was looking into it. Isn’t it strange that he disappeared right after saying he was auditing the books?” Finally, Detective Evans asked for a detailed account of my activities from the day of my mother’s anniversary until I called the police, and exactly what I saw when I returned home… When I finished my statement and left the interrogation room, my boyfriend, Jake, was standing outside. Seeing him, my nose stung, and tears welled up again. Jake immediately pulled me into a hug, his face full of concern. “Sarah, don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ll be with you through this. Your dad will come back safe.” I couldn’t speak, just sobbed into his chest. After a moment, I pulled away, wiped my nose and eyes, and said, “You should go in now.” Both my boyfriend, Jake, and the company’s finance manager, Linda, had been asked to come to the station for questioning. Linda arrived while I was waiting for Jake on a bench in the station lobby. Seeing me, she spoke with undisguised sarcasm, “Still here, Assistant Manager Miller? You should be getting some rest, planning for the future, you know.” “The future? What are you talking about?” Her snide tone made my anger flare up. “Oh, nothing. Just concerned about you, that’s all.” I was about to retort when the interrogation room door opened. Jake walked out, looking dejected. As soon as he saw me, he rushed over. “Sarah, you have to believe me! I was home the entire time you were gone. I didn’t go anywhere.” It sounded like he didn’t have an alibi and was worried. I tried to soothe him. “Can anyone verify that? Or is there security footage showing you didn’t leave the house?” Jake sighed heavily. He said he was alone at home, and the security cameras outside his apartment building had been broken those few days. He gripped my hand. “I was really at home, Sarah. I was just playing video games the whole time. I didn’t go anywhere.” My voice turned cold. “Playing video games?” Jake’s eyes darted away. His lips turned pale, and he stammered, unable to say anything more. I looked at him, utterly disappointed. Before my trip, he told me he’d found a job. While I was away, he kept texting me about how he was adjusting to the new work. Turns out… he was lying to me the whole time. “Jake, you really disappoint me!” Linda watched the drama between us like a spectator at a play, let out a small, mocking laugh, and then sashayed into the interrogation room. I didn’t want to see Jake anymore either. I went back to the apartment I owned downtown. 3 Once home, I called Mr. Davis, my lawyer, asking him to follow up on the case at the police station. After hanging up, I collapsed onto the sofa, not wanting to move an inch. So much had happened in the last two days; I was completely exhausted. Just as I was drifting off, the sound of the keypad lock jolted me awake. My dad had just disappeared, and I was living alone now. Panic started to set in. My eyes were glued to the door, fear tightening around my neck like invisible hands. Click. The door opened. My heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest. A familiar figure appeared outside—I instantly relaxed. It was Jake. Jake looked at me, concerned. “Sarah, are you okay? You look really pale.” I was still angry with him. “What’s it to you?!” “Sarah, you need to take care of yourself, otherwise…” He trailed off. “If you have something to say, say it. If not, get out!” Jake seemed to make up his mind. He was about to speak: “Sarah…” Buzz, buzz… My phone vibrated. It was Mr. Davis. Ignoring Jake, I answered. “Mr. Davis?” I listened quietly to his update, then just said, “Okay,” and hung up. Seeing me hang up, Jake immediately asked, “What did Mr. Davis say?” “That has nothing to do with you. What did you want to say?” For the first time since he walked in, Jake looked me straight in the eye, his expression earnest. “I wanted to tell you, when I first got close to you, it was because…” Ding-dong! The doorbell rang again, cutting Jake off mid-sentence.

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