Category: English

Arthur Sterling got drunk one night and got a girl pregnant. By the time I found out, her belly was already six months along. He told me that if we kept this child, we could go back to the way things were. I shook my head and stubbornly asked him: “Me or this child—who do you choose?” That day, he remained silent for a long time, unable to give me an answer. But after I vanished from his life, he finally felt the crushing weight of regret. 1 Married for five years, I never imagined Arthur and I would end like this. At the hospital entrance, Arthur was carefully helping a young, beautiful girl down the steps. I stood a short distance away, making direct eye contact with him just as his face was full of tender care. His eyes darted away, stiffly avoiding my gaze. The heavily pregnant girl beside him also looked my way, tears instantly welling up in her eyes. After safely helping the girl into a car and giving her a few careful instructions, Arthur finally walked over to me. His steps were calm and composed, entirely devoid of the panic of a man who had just been caught. He reached out and took my hands, which were as cold as ice, wrapping them tightly in his warm palms. “Why are you at the hospital? Are you feeling unwell?” He spoke with deep concern, raising a hand to touch my forehead. I dodged his touch. “Who is she?” Arthur didn’t answer my question. Instead, he pulled me into his embrace, trying to comfort me. “She’s no one important. Let’s go home and I’ll explain everything, okay?” Hearing his gentle, soothing voice in this moment finally caused my tears to fall. I looked up at him stubbornly, demanding an answer. As long as he said it, I would believe him. Arthur let out a soft sigh, then gently wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. “The child is mine.” The tears froze on my face. I felt as though I had forgotten how to breathe. I bit my lower lip until it turned crimson, breaking free from his embrace and taking several steps back. Only then did a flash of genuine anger cross Arthur’s face. He pulled me back to his side, looking at me with heartache. “Eleanor, you can blame me, but don’t torture yourself.” I couldn’t understand why he would do something so devastating, yet still look at me with such profound love. Amidst our silent standoff, the girl stepped out of the car. “Get back inside!” Arthur ordered coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth. The girl looked at him timidly but didn’t retreat. A hint of determination appeared in her eyes. “Mrs. Sterling, Mr. Sterling and I aren’t what you think. This child was an accident.” She offered a bitter smile. “If I had a choice, I would want this baby gone more than anyone.” My vision was blurred with tears. Though I couldn’t clearly see the expression on Arthur’s face, I knew him well enough to feel that his initial coldness toward her had already faded. “Enough, stop talking!” Jealousy and resentment flooded my heart, and I screamed in a total breakdown. Startled, the girl swayed and nearly fell, but Arthur rushed forward and caught her securely in his arms. I stared blankly at the scene. A wild thought flashed through my mind. I lunged toward them. Just as I was about to collide with her swollen belly, a massive force shoved me away. I fell hard onto the pavement. Lifting my scraped, bleeding palms, I let out a miserable laugh. Arthur stared in utter disbelief at his own outstretched hands, completely stunned by what he had just done. That day, Arthur left the six-month pregnant girl behind and took me home. But I knew in my heart that he and I had no future left. 2 Once we were home, Arthur gave me his explanation. I sat on the bed, motionless for a long time. He stood on the balcony of my room and smoked for the entire night. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was using this self-destructive behavior to make my heart ache for him. When it came to me, he always knew exactly how to exploit my weaknesses. As dawn broke, Arthur turned, walked inside, and sat beside me. “Are you hungry? Tell me what you want, I’ll cook.” I stopped him with a hoarse voice. “Arthur, we need to talk.” His footsteps halted. For a long time, he didn’t turn around. He knew my personality well. He knew I cared deeply about loyalty. I cared a lot. Even if he had too much to drink that night, even if his contact with that girl was an unintentional mistake. I could never forgive him. Knowing this, Arthur had hidden the truth from me. But no one expected that this strange girl, someone he claimed was just a one-night mistake, would get pregnant. And because of a rare medical condition, she couldn’t safely terminate the pregnancy. That was how we ended up here. Arthur walked out. He didn’t dare face the words he knew I was about to say. I knew he loved me. If he didn’t, we wouldn’t have survived years of a marathon romance to finally get married. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have spoiled me to the point where I felt safe enough to throw tantrums and cry over the smallest things. For the next week, Arthur didn’t come home. Yet, every single day, he called our housekeeper to ask about every detail of my life and how I was doing. The housekeeper tried to persuade me: “Ma’am, you and Mr. Sterling are the most loving couple I’ve ever seen. Whatever happened, just talk it out and it will pass. Mr. Sterling… he’s lost so much weight recently.” She had worked for us for years and had never seen us have a single fight. Even Arthur’s mother, who had been displeased with me in our early years, gradually accepted me as her daughter-in-law simply because Arthur and I were so blissfully happy together. My phone rang. It was one of Arthur’s friends. “Eleanor, Arthur is black-out drunk. Could you come pick him up?” “Leave him be!” After hanging up, the heavy knot in my chest only grew tighter. My mind kept replaying the sight of his back as he walked out the door a week ago—his posture seemed to have bent under the weight of it all. In the end, I couldn’t be ruthless enough to just leave him there alone. After a brief internal struggle, I grabbed my car keys and strode out the door. 3 The door to the VIP room was ajar. I stood outside, not stepping in. Arthur was indeed horribly drunk, sprawled carelessly across the sofa with zero regard for his image. Standing directly in front of him was the heavily pregnant girl. Arthur’s friend looked incredibly awkward. “Ms. Dawson, Eleanor refused to come, and Arthur refuses to leave. I had no choice but to call you.” The girl, Chloe Dawson, smiled softly and reached out to support one of Arthur’s arms. He abruptly shoved her away. A few gasps in the room jolted Arthur slightly out of his drunken stupor. He looked at the woman in front of him, a smile forming on his face that looked far worse than crying. “Chloe, it’s all because of you… Eleanor doesn’t want me anymore…” Arthur kept repeating that sentence, looking around frantically for more alcohol. No one could stop him. He grabbed a liquor bottle and started chugging it like his life depended on it. Suddenly, Chloe snatched the bottle from his hand and smashed it violently against the floor. The room instantly fell dead silent. Even Arthur, who had just been throwing a drunken fit, stared at her blankly. “Arthur Sterling, your shouting and screaming is going to scare our child. Get up. I’m tired, and you are taking me home.” Arthur was a man who could practically summon the wind and rain in Chicago’s business world. Aside from me, no one had ever dared to order him around like that. Everyone in the room thought he was going to explode. They held their breath. But in that suffocating atmosphere, Arthur didn’t say a word. He slowly stood up, grabbed his jacket, and silently followed Chloe out the door. I hid in the shadows of the corridor, watching the man and woman walk away. Suddenly, I smiled. But that smile tasted entirely of bitter ash. I trailed their taxi to a high-end luxury apartment complex. I watched with my own eyes as Arthur got out of the car and followed the girl upstairs. A light flicked on in a window high above. I sat in my car and watched that window for the entire night. Arthur never came out. At 7:00 AM, he walked back into the building carrying breakfast bags. I stared at his deeply familiar silhouette. Then, quietly, I drove away alone. 4 I summoned Arthur back home, but I didn’t mention divorce. I looked at the man, who had visibly lost weight, and quickly averted my gaze. “I didn’t pick you up last night. Where did you sleep?” Arthur’s fingers twitched slightly. After a moment, he said: “I slept at the office.” I couldn’t quite describe what I felt in my heart. There wasn’t much sorrow left. Just an overwhelming sense of disappointment. When did Arthur learn to lie to me so effortlessly? The man who once promised to treat me with absolute honesty for the rest of his life had changed. I didn’t expose his lie. For me, it had lost all meaning. “How many months is she?” Arthur paused for a few seconds, as if he couldn’t bear to hurt me. “Almost seven months.” After saying that, he dropped to one knee in front of me and buried his face deeply into my lap. His tears soaked through my skirt. “Ellie, I was wrong. Please don’t throw me away.” In my entire memory of him, Arthur had never cried. Now, he was sobbing uncontrollably. Watching him cry made my heart physically ache. But I knew that, in this moment, I couldn’t afford to be soft-hearted. “Arrange a meeting for me and that girl.” We chose to meet at Chloe’s apartment. Arthur waited outside the door. Chloe gently caressed her lower belly, her eyes brimming with pure anticipation for the child. “That night, the lights were off in the room, and I was genuinely terrified.” “But the next morning, when I saw Mr. Sterling sleeping beside me… for a split second, I actually felt lucky.” Chloe smiled as she spoke. She looked up at me, still maintaining that gentle, innocent facade. “Mrs. Sterling, Arthur and I are going to have a child very soon. Why don’t you just step aside and let us be together?” Without Arthur around, this girl was like a completely different person. Honestly, I wasn’t that surprised. Because the night I went to the bar to find Arthur, I saw Chloe glance toward the door crack. I knew she had seen me watching them that night. She slowly stood up and pushed open a closed door in the apartment. Inside was a beautifully decorated, warm nursery. “Arthur personally picked out everything in here. He decorated this room himself.” “It’s not that he has no expectations for this child.” I really wanted to maintain my last shred of dignity and composure in front of this woman flaunting my husband’s fatherly love. But she still managed to enrage me. So, Arthur did look forward to this child. He wasn’t as indifferent as he claimed. All the strength drained from my body. I leaned heavily against the dining table, accidentally knocking over a glass of water. It shattered with a crisp crash, mirroring the fracturing of my own heart. Hearing the noise, Arthur burst in. What he saw was me swaying unsteadily on my feet, while Chloe lay on the floor crying out in pain. I will never forget that day—the day Arthur’s first choice was no longer me. Chloe shot me a triumphant smirk, convinced she had won the war. As he brushed past me, Arthur hesitated for only a fraction of a second. Ultimately, he bypassed me entirely, scooped Chloe up in his arms, and rushed her to the hospital. 5 When he left, Arthur didn’t even look back at me. I stood rooted to the spot for a long time before slowly digesting the reality that he had abandoned me. I followed them to the hospital. By the time I arrived, Arthur’s parents were already there. It turned out I was the only one kept in the dark. His parents had known about this for a while. Seeing me approach, Arthur’s mother slapped me hard across the face. “If anything happens to my grandson, I will make you pay!” Arthur instantly stepped in front of me, shielding me completely behind his back. Seeing this, his mother grew even more furious. “Arthur, I don’t care if you protect her normally, but right now she’s trying to kill your son!” Arthur laughed, his voice thick with suppressed rebellion. “So what? If the kid dies, he dies.” If his parents hadn’t gone behind his back to help preserve this pregnancy, Ellie wouldn’t be this heartbroken right now. No one knew that when he saw Chloe fall, his very first instinctive reaction was… relief. He deeply regretted the existence of this ‘accident.’ The doctor came out of the room and announced the baby was safe. Arthur’s parents rushed inside to coddle and comfort Chloe. But Chloe kept her pitiful, teary gaze locked on Arthur, who was standing by the door. She dared to scheme against me. Why would I let her get what she wanted? I tilted my face to show Arthur my red, swollen left cheek, ensuring his heart would ache for me. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” I told him. Arthur left with me. As we walked away, I looked back at Chloe lying in the hospital bed and returned her victorious smile with one of my own. At least for now, Arthur’s bias still favored me. Even if it was a bias I no longer wanted. During the days when Arthur believed I was slowly accepting the existence of his child, I was actually preparing for my departure. I packed up my belongings and had my lawyer draft the divorce papers. I was just waiting for the day to leave. Yes, I was going to leave on the exact day Chloe gave birth. Didn’t she want me to step aside so they could be a happy family of three? I was going to grant her that wish.

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The fake heiress and I became sugar babies for two billionaire brothers in New York’s elite circle. Even while sneaking out for a quick iced coffee, we couldn’t stop complaining about how our sugar daddies seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of energy every single night. Then, the younger brother’s “first love” was rumored to be returning from abroad. The fake heiress: “Are you going to run?” Me: “I’m down for whatever. It’s up to you.” The fake heiress: “Do you run first, or do I run first?” Me: “Let’s just run together.” As it turned out, because we were way too obvious, we were caught red-handed right in the middle of our grand escape. The New York billionaire sneered in pure, cold fury: “He has a ‘first love’ coming back, I don’t. What exactly are you running from?” 1 When my family’s business empire went bankrupt, the fake heiress, Sienna, and I were essentially handed over to the powerful Sterling brothers to settle the debt. I was given to the older brother, Roman Sterling. Sienna was given to the younger one, Brooks Sterling. Life at the Sterling estate was actually pretty comfortable. The two brothers treated us with an almost eerie level of consistency. They never skimped on our monthly allowance, but they never gave us a second glance during the day either. Sienna and I were more than happy with that arrangement. Whenever we managed to sneak out for an iced coffee, we’d spend the entire time venting about our sugar daddies’ endless stamina in the bedroom every night. But lately, Sienna had been totally distracted during our gossip sessions. I poked her arm. “What’s the matter? Did Brooks keep you up all night again?” She snapped back to reality and let out a heavy sigh. “Brooks’s ‘first love’ is coming back from London.” I let out an “Oh.” I couldn’t really relate to that specific brand of drama. Because on this point, the brothers were polar opposites. Roman had always cultivated a strict, stoic, almost ascetic image. I heard that before I arrived, he hadn’t let a single woman get within ten feet of him. Brooks was the same way. Except, rumor had it he’d been pining for his “first love” for years. Sienna continued to sigh. “I think it’s time for me to leave before I have to deal with her.” I took a long sip of my latte. “Where are you going? I’m coming with you.” Sienna seemed to suddenly steel her resolve. “I’m making a run for it. Are you in or out?” I didn’t blink. “If you run, I run.” Honestly, Roman treated me pretty well. But it’s a big world, and sisters come before misters. Who cares if he’s nice? Sienna’s face filled with relief. “Okay, then. Do you run first, or do I run first?” I thought about it. “Let’s just run together.” Even though Roman didn’t have a lingering ex, who knew when a strategic corporate marriage would pop up? I needed to be proactive. This was the perfect chance to disappear together. Sienna finalized the deal instantly. “Perfect! We run together!” Then, she started delegating tasks: “I’ll handle buying the tickets and gathering the supplies. You’re in charge of the actual escape plan.” She paused, narrowing her eyes at me. “And if you try to wing it without a real plan like last time, you’re staying behind!” She clenched her fist, the threat painfully clear. I nodded frantically. “Don’t worry, don’t worry! I’ll do it tonight when we get back. I’ll have a full PowerPoint and a written itinerary ready!” Since this wasn’t just a normal vacation, I really had to put some effort into it. Hearing my promise, Sienna nodded in satisfaction. 2 When we got home that night, we both tacitly rejected our sugar daddies’ “invitations” for the evening. She claimed a stomach ache; I claimed a dizzy spell. The moment the two men left our rooms, I bolted out of bed, fired up my laptop, and started typing out the escape plan at lightning speed. Halfway through, Roman came back with some medicine. I dove back under the duvet and played dead. He reached out and felt my forehead, murmuring, “Why are you sweating?” He tried to pull the blanket down to let some air in. I yanked it back tight, pretending to be freezing. Roman checked my temp again, saw it had dropped slightly, and finally left the room feeling reassured. The second the door clicked shut, I pulled my overheating laptop back out from under the covers. My body was roasting from being buried in the blankets, but I didn’t have time to care. I opened the laptop and kept typing. Throughout the night, Roman kept popping in to check on my condition. Every time I heard him coming, I’d slam the laptop shut and pretend to be asleep. After doing this repeatedly, the sky was starting to lighten by the time I finally finished. I hit ‘Save,’ tossed the laptop aside, and immediately fell into a dead sleep. 3 When I woke up, Sienna was sitting on the edge of my bed. She looked even more haggard than I did. Seeing me wake up, she immediately reached out, asking for the escape plan. I opened the laptop to show her. I asked casually, “Why do you look so awful?” Scrolling through the screen, Sienna let out a haunting sigh. “That psycho Brooks realized I was faking it, so he made me pay for the lie all night anyway.” As she spoke, her suppressed rage flared up again. “Damn it, if we don’t run soon, I’m going to die of exhaustion.” I was still half-asleep. She finally finished reading and Airdropped the plan to her own laptop. I yawned and asked, “Everything ready on your end? When’s the move?” Sienna’s eyes went ice-cold. “I heard the ‘first love’ lands in three days. Both brothers have to be at the welcome gala.” “We run that night. It’s perfect timing.” I nodded. “Okay, whatever you say.” Her word was law. Sienna handed the laptop back. “We’ll hammer out the final details when they’re not around. I need to go catch up on sleep.” The second she closed the door, I pulled the covers over my head and went back to sleep. I slept straight through until Roman came home. He took off his watch and came over to feel my forehead again. “How are you feeling today? The maids said you slept all day.” His hand was a little cold, and I shivered. “I’m all better.” With Sienna’s failure fresh in my mind, I was terrified he’d realize I had been faking it. Roman started unbuttoning his shirt. “Then let’s go to bed early.” I had actual PTSD from that unbuttoning motion. I stuttered in panic, “Um, actually, I’m not completely better. We should just… sleep normally.” Roman paused for two seconds and raised an eyebrow. “If we aren’t going to sleep normally, what did you want to do?” What else could we do?! He knew exactly what I meant. My face flushed red, and I hid under the covers again. “Nothing, let’s just sleep, go to sleep.” Roman didn’t say anything else. He reached out, pulled me into his arms, and quickly fell asleep. Because I had slept all day, my eyes were wide open staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t fall asleep at all. My mind was entirely focused on the escape plan and what still needed tweaking. I lay there with my eyes open until dawn, finally feeling a hint of drowsiness. I could only faintly hear the sound of Roman getting out of bed; I couldn’t open my eyes. I don’t know how much time passed, but he leaned over, kissed my forehead, and then the room went quiet. To lower the brothers’ suspicions, Sienna and I canceled our afternoon iced coffee sessions. We stayed in our rooms every day, perfecting the plan. Finally, the day the “first love” returned arrived. 4 First thing in the morning, Sienna found a random excuse to get into a massive screaming match with Brooks. Then she locked herself in her room and refused to open the door, even when I called for her. Brooks assumed she was just throwing a tantrum and stormed out in a rage. My eyes fell on Roman, who was leisurely sipping tea on the sofa, and I started to panic internally. Wasn’t he supposed to go to the welcome gala? Why wasn’t he leaving? If he didn’t leave soon, we were going to miss our flight. I was pacing like an ant on a hot pan. Finally, Roman stood up. Overjoyed, I prepared to play the caring girlfriend and tell him to drive safely. Instead, Roman looked at me and frowned. “Why haven’t you changed your clothes yet?” I froze. “Huh?” He glanced at his watch. “Aren’t you going to the welcome gala tonight?” Of course I’m not going! Feeling his intense gaze on me, I thought fast and forced out two fake tears. “I’m feeling a little sick again today. I think I’ll sit this one out.” I thought that would be enough to get me off the hook. Instead, Roman paused halfway through putting on his suit jacket. “Change your clothes anyway. I’m taking you to the hospital.” I panicked so hard I practically caught fire. I waved my hands frantically. “No, no, no! I don’t need to go to the hospital. I just need to sleep for a bit.” Roman’s tone brooked no argument. “Absolutely not. You’ve been feeling sick for days. You need a full checkup.” I shook my head. “The welcome gala is really important. You should go handle your business first, and we can go to the doctor when you get back.” By the time he got back, Sienna and I would have successfully escaped. Roman wasn’t buying it. “It’s just an irrelevant person. We’re getting you checked out first. Be good.” Seeing that he was literally about to drag me out the door, I desperately grabbed onto the arm of the sofa. “Actually… actually, I lied to you. I’m not sick.” Roman clearly didn’t believe me. His grip loosened slightly, but he looked displeased. “I don’t care what you say. You are getting checked out today.” I broke out in a cold sweat. Thinking fast, I gripped his sleeve. “I’m really not sick! I just want to stay home and keep Sienna company. She’s really sad today, and I’m worried about her.” Roman looked at me suspiciously. I pressed on, “You know she’s one of the most important people in the world to me. I don’t want to leave her alone.” Roman probably remembered the emotional baggage between his brother and this “first love.” He let go of my hand and nodded. “Fine. You stay and keep her company.” I was ecstatic. I threw myself at him and kissed him on the lips. “You’re the best! Don’t drink too much tonight, bye-bye!” Roman grabbed my waist and looked down at me. “She’s ‘one of’ the most important people. Who are the others?” Honestly, there was no “one of.” Sienna was my only family. But I didn’t mind buttering him up a bit more to lower his guard. “You, of course! Just you two, no one else.” The corner of Roman’s mouth ticked up. “Smooth talker.” He leaned down and kissed me hard. My legs turned to jelly; I could barely stand. Afraid he might lose control and decide to stay, I quickly pushed him away. “You’re going to be late! Hurry up and go!” Roman finally let me go. “Don’t fall asleep tonight.” Just to get him out the door, I would have agreed to anything. Watching his car disappear down the driveway, I let out a massive sigh of relief. I took the stairs two at a time to find Sienna. 5 I barely knocked on the door before Sienna yanked it open just enough to drag me inside. I stared at the four massive suitcases in front of me, utterly bewildered. “Are you… trying to escape?” With bags this bulky, we’d be caught as thieves before we even made it off the property, right? Sienna dusted off her hands, completely oblivious to how insane this looked. “Yeah! We’ll take all this stuff so we don’t have to waste money buying it again.” “Once we’re out of here, we definitely can’t use their credit cards. Shouldn’t we save wherever we can?” I was silent. “…” Whatever. As long as she’s happy. We waited until the maids were having their dinner before dragging the heavy suitcases downstairs. Unfortunately, because the bags were so heavy, we made a ton of noise. In a flash of brilliance, I put on a furious face and yelled, “You buy this useless junk every single day! I swear I’m going to throw it all out!” Our eyes met, and Sienna instantly understood my play. She dragged the suitcases toward the door, walking as fast as she could while shouting back, “Don’t try to pull rank on me just because you’re the older brother’s girl!” “Fine, throw it out then!” “I’ll do it for you!” The maids stared at us in absolute shock, totally bewildered by the sudden falling out between the inseparable “sisters.” Seizing the opportunity, I grabbed the other two suitcases and stormed toward the door. “Fine, I’m throwing it all out!” We kept up the fake argument all the way out of the mansion. I dumped the two suitcases I was carrying next to the trash cans, grabbed Sienna, and shoved her into the Uber we had pre-booked. Sienna kept looking back at the trash cans. “Wait, our stuff!” I yanked her arm. “Forget the stuff! If you leave it there, they’ll actually believe we had a massive fight!” It was the only way to buy ourselves time to escape. Otherwise, someone would realize something was wrong before we even left the gated community. Sienna adjusted immediately. “You’re right. Garbage belongs with garbage men!” We didn’t dare waste a single second. As soon as we got to JFK Airport, we opened the remaining suitcases to change our clothes. I rushed her as I changed. “Hurry up! We need to make a few transfers before they get back from the gala!” Sienna, in the stall next to me, didn’t answer. I assumed she was already waiting outside, so I finished adjusting my hoodie and walked out of the restroom. The second I stepped out, I saw Roman standing a few feet away, his expression absolute ice. My brain literally blue-screened. Before Roman could walk over, I pulled my hoodie over my head, looked down, and tried to sneak away. I had barely taken three steps along the wall when a hand grabbed my hood. I flinched, burying my head even lower. Wait, how did he track us so fast?! Shouldn’t he be clinking champagne glasses at the gala right now? While I kept my head down, Roman reached out, grabbed my chin, and forced me to look up at him. He offered a humorless smile. “Faking sick, acting cute, refusing to leave the house… so this was the plan all along?” I didn’t dare answer. I refused to look him in the eye. I was fully committed to playing dead. Roman took a deep breath, his tone softening slightly. “Tell me. Why did you run?” “What did I do to make you unhappy?” I mumbled, “I don’t know.” I’m with my best friend. Do I need another reason? Roman repeated the words. “‘You don’t know’?” I felt guilty. “She ran, so I ran…” I couldn’t leave Sienna. That was the bottom line. Roman actually laughed out of pure exasperation. “She ran because my brother has a ‘first love.’ I don’t! What exactly were you running from?!” I didn’t dare make a sound. Roman’s voice grew heavier. “Speak!” I jumped, on the verge of tears. “I can’t betray my best friend! If she’s running, why would I stay?!” Roman clearly hadn’t anticipated that answer. He was so angry his breathing became ragged. It took him a long time to get his emotions under control. “We’re going home.” I asked cautiously, “Can you give me my phone back first?” Since leaving the bathroom, I hadn’t seen Sienna anywhere. I hadn’t seen Brooks, either. So she probably still had a chance to escape. I needed to text her and tell her to change her route. Roman shot me a side-eye. “Trying to tip her off?” I shook my head vigorously. “No, I just want to check the time.” Roman shoved his wrist in my face, showing me his watch. “Check mine.” I practically choked on my own blood. I grabbed his hand and pushed it down. “Just let me use my phone for one second. I’m begging you.” Roman wrapped his arm around my waist, his tone frigid. “Don’t bother. She got caught too.” He paused, staring at me with a cold sneer. “Your punishment tonight is going to be far worse than hers.” I panicked instantly. “What are you going to do?!” “It’s your brother’s fault for being sketchy with some other girl! So what if Sienna ran?!” “Neither of you brothers are any good!” The more I spoke, the more agitated I got, watching Roman’s face darken with every word. But since I was already doomed, I might as well get the satisfaction of telling him off. I puffed out my chest. “What are you glaring at?! If you’re so tough, let us go!” Roman tightened his grip, leaning close to my ear. He sneered, his voice dropping so low only I could hear. “I’m not tough enough to let you go. But I am tough enough to destroy you in bed tonight.” All the color drained from my face. My voice trembled. “I retract my statement. I didn’t say anything.” I got too carried away and forgot that Roman really wasn’t a good guy! Roman’s expression didn’t change. “Too late.”

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After showering, I stepped barefoot onto the smart scale in our house. A chime rang out: “Congratulations, Mindy, mid-pregnancy, baby is 1.5 kg!” I was stunned. I was pregnant? How did I not know? Excited, I grabbed my phone and immediately called my husband: “What’s wrong with the scale? Am I pregnant?” There was a brief second of silence on the other end, then his usual gentle chuckle: “Skylar, it’s just a scale, the data’s wrong. Are you overly sensitive because you haven’t conceived yet?” I hung up, then connected via Bluetooth. In the scale’s data log, I saw three months of continuous weight gain. Grabbing my car keys, I drove straight to Mindy’s university. Before confronting Mindy, I needed to confirm my suspicions. In the scale’s app, there was a heart icon every two weeks, which I assumed marked a prenatal check-up. Based on the pattern, today was a check-up day! I parked my car outside the private hospital. The scent of disinfectant hung heavy in the obstetrics and gynecology corridor. A few minutes later, a girl in a white cotton dress walked out of the consulting room, head down. Long hair reaching her waist, no makeup on her face—exactly the pure, innocent look my husband, Alex, always favored. The moment she looked up, I confirmed it. It was Mindy, the underprivileged student my husband and I had been sponsoring. When she saw me, her eyes clearly flickered with panic for a moment, but she quickly composed herself, patting her belly and forcing a shy smile: “Skylar? What a coincidence, are you here for an appointment too?” “Yes, a prenatal check-up.” “My scale at home says I’m pregnant, so I came to see if it’s true.” I got straight to the point, “And you? A prenatal check-up too? Your belly looks about four or five months along?” “N-no!” She waved her hands frantically, “I… I just gained weight…” “I just came for a routine physical… yes, a physical!” She stammered through her explanation, full of holes. If not for the smart scale’s cold “mid-pregnancy” announcement, I might have actually believed her. My gaze fell on her tightly clutched abdomen. She trembled with fright, instinctively taking a step back. But I smiled, stepping closer, my voice gentle: “Don’t be nervous, plenty of people get pregnant before marriage, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” “If you really are pregnant, just make the man marry you. Have Alex talk to him; let’s see if he dares to shirk responsibility.” Mindy’s face instantly paled, her lips trembling as she bolted. I didn’t watch her humiliated retreat, instead turning to make a call. “Get me Mindy’s medical report.” Within ten minutes, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from my best friend, Chloe. An image: Mindy’s prenatal check-up report. A quick glance confirmed it was indeed mid-pregnancy. In the emergency contact section, two names stood out. Alex. Chloe was silent for a few seconds, dropping her usual playful tone: “Is it his?” I shook my head, a bitter smile on my face: “No proof yet…” Back home, before I even had a chance to change my shoes, my phone screen lit up. It was a notification from Mindy’s social media. A photo of a pregnant belly, the background my carefully chosen living room sofa, her wearing my loungewear, intimately leaning on a cushion I’d bought, with the caption: “Baby’s new home, I love it.” The location: the address of my newly renovated villa. I forced myself to calm down and stormed into Alex’s study. Following a woman’s intuition, I found his old phone tucked into a hidden compartment on the top shelf of the bookshelf. The lock screen was a photo of me, and the password was still my birthday. The screen lit up, and I tapped on the profile picture; it was a new account. The profile picture showed a slender hand stroking a woman’s pregnant belly. A chill ran through me. The plain silver band on that hand’s ring finger was one I had designed myself ten years ago. The contact list contained only Mindy. I opened the chat, and their love story unfolded before my eyes. The timeline wasn’t long, starting from when I was temporarily transferred out of town six months ago. The earliest message was from last Christmas, sent by Mindy: “Alex, Merry Christmas, the gift I want to give you is myself.” Alex hadn’t replied to that message, but I remembered he used the excuse of working overtime that night and didn’t come home. After a few innocuous holiday greetings, the messages grew increasingly vulgar. “Your waist is so soft.” “You were amazing last night, you utterly captivated me.” Those disgusting words turned my stomach. On our wedding anniversary, he video-called me until midnight. But after hanging up, he immediately went to find Mindy, hiking with her up a mountain to watch the sunrise. Mindy would occasionally feign innocence, asking: “Will Skylar be angry?” Alex’s reply was cold and heartless: “Our private world doesn’t include her.” I trembled as I opened the album of that secondary account; it was filled with Mindy. They kissed at sunset, their maternity photos, their dreams of a beautiful life as a family of three… I was shaking with rage, almost crushing the phone. Just then, my own phone received a picture of steamed dumplings from Alex, and immediately afterwards, the phone rang. “Skylar, are you home yet?” “I queued for half an hour in the North End to get your favorite dumplings. I was just about to bring them over, but something urgent came up at the company…” I sneered inwardly, looking at the message Mindy had just sent on the old phone: “Honey, the hotel room is ready, I’m waiting for you in my new sexy lingerie~” Unsurprisingly, those dumplings would soon appear before Mindy. I regulated my breathing: “Okay, you go take care of it.” I copied all the chat logs and videos from Alex’s old phone. When Alex rushed home, I was sitting in the living room. Seeing the scene, the gentle smile on his face froze for a moment, but he still walked over as usual, trying to embrace me: “Skylar, what’s wrong?” I sidestepped, avoiding him, and threw the printed prenatal report onto the coffee table in front of him. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, yet he still feigned innocence: “Skylar, why did you actually go to the hospital for a check-up?” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Alex, look closely at the name on there—it’s Mindy, not Skylar! What do you have to say for yourself?” He still brazenly lied. “Mindy? Mindy’s pregnant? How would I know… you know these young university students getting pregnant so easily…” “But darling, what does this have to do with me? You’re not suspecting me, are you… I’m innocent…” I looked at the man before me, a terrible actor, and couldn’t understand how I had loved him for so many years. “Darling, I’ll go find Mindy right now and have her clarify everything to your face.” Alex calmly took out his phone and dialed Mindy’s number. Not long after, the doorbell rang. Alex pulled in a delicate figure from outside, it was Mindy. She cowered, timidly looking at me, no makeup on her face, appearing clean and innocent. “Alex… Am I here at a bad time? Skylar, please don’t misunderstand Alex, it’s all my fault…” “Do you have a say here?” I sharply snapped. Mindy flinched, her body swaying, and she fell straight to the ground. I watched her with cold eyes, not moving an inch. Alex, however, rushed forward, cradling Mindy protectively in his arms, then turned to me and roared: “Skylar! Why did you push her! She’s carrying a child!” Before I could speak, a commotion erupted outside the door. “What child? Who has a child of the Chen family?” A middle-aged couple, plainly dressed but with sharp eyes, pushed their way in. It was Alex’s parents. They had come to deliver local specialties to Alex. As soon as Alex’s parents entered, they saw Alex embracing Mindy. His mother glared fiercely at Mindy, then charged forward, ready to strike her: “You shameless hussy! How dare you seduce my son!” Alex quickly shielded Mindy: “Mom! What are you doing! Mindy is the daughter of Mrs. Davis from the general store at the village entrance!” At these words, Alex’s parents’ attitude did a complete 180-degree turn. His mother stopped her tirade, beaming with joy, “Oh, it’s Mrs. Davis’s girl, let me see, you’ve grown so big?” She scrutinized Mindy’s belly, “Pregnant? That’s wonderful! Where are you living now? I say, don’t live anywhere else, just stay here in our villa with a nanny, we’ll make sure you’re perfectly comfortable.” Alex adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, and following his mother’s lead, turned to me: “From today onwards, Mindy will live here to rest during her pregnancy. Give her the master bedroom; you can go to the guest room for now.” His tone was not a discussion, but a decree. Before I could object, he helped Mindy up and walked out, leaving me alone in the living room. The next morning, Mindy sauntered downstairs wearing my favorite silk bathrobe. She was wearing my usual perfume, a unique scent that Alex and I had custom-blended in France during our courtship. There was only one of its kind in the world. I sat at the dining table, coldly watching her take a seat opposite me. “How did you sleep last night, sister?” Mindy deliberately rested her wrist on the table, revealing a Patek Philippe watch, smiling with feigned innocence. She was an underprivileged student; she couldn’t possibly afford it. Undoubtedly, the watch was a gift from Alex, and she was flaunting it to me. I ignored her, looking down at my porridge. She seemed unfazed, picking up a bowl of bird’s nest soup and stirring it gently with a spoon. “Alex is so good to me. He knows I have morning sickness and no appetite, so he even got up in the middle of the night to make me bird’s nest soup, saying it’s good for the baby.” “Sister, would you like to try some?” “Crash!” I couldn’t take it anymore, and furiously smashed the bowl of bird’s nest soup on the floor. “Ah!” Mindy shrieked, perfectly dodging into Alex’s arms as he walked in, crying, her face a tear-streaked mess. “Alex, I’m so scared, is Skylar going crazy?” Alex immediately shielded the “startled” Mindy behind him, his eyes burning with anger as he looked at me: “Skylar, look at yourself. What have you become?” “Mindy is pregnant, she’s from my hometown, and she’s an underprivileged student we both sponsored. Why are you losing your temper with her?” I couldn’t stand it anymore. I wasn’t going to play Alex’s game any longer. “I know Mindy is carrying your child.” Alex paused for a moment, then laughed. “Skylar, haven’t you always wanted a child?” The smile on his lips turned cruel. “I got Mindy to be your surrogate, shouldn’t you thank me?” “Thank you?” I trembled with rage. “Alex, you want me to thank you for getting your mistress to have a child for me?” My mother-in-law, who had just arrived with chicken soup early that morning, suddenly appeared. “Alex, are you saying Mindy is carrying your child?” Alex nodded. My mother-in-law’s eyes suddenly lit up, and she burst into laughter. “Heaven has eyes! Our Chen family finally has an heir!” She walked up to me, pointed at my nose, and cursed me furiously: “You barren hen! Our Chen family has had only one heir per generation, and after three years of marriage with you, there’s been no sign of a baby! Now you want to harm my precious grandchild! What are your intentions?!” Alex’s father also chimed in: “Skylar, it’s your good fortune that our Alex married you. If you can’t have children yourself, shouldn’t he be allowed to find someone who can? Don’t be so overbearing!” That whole family, they epitomized shamelessness. “Sister, don’t be angry,” Mindy poked her head out from behind Alex, stroking her belly. “Didn’t the doctor say you weren’t well and it would be hard for you to conceive? Alex is doing this for your own good too.” I was shaking with rage at this twisted scene, pointing at them, unable to speak. Suddenly, my vision went black, and I slowly collapsed. When I woke up, I saw that my assistant had called me hundreds of times. While I was unconscious, Alex had urgently convened a board meeting of the Forrester Group, proposing to remove me from my position. I floored the accelerator, crashing through the boardroom doors ten minutes later. Alex froze when he saw me, but quickly replaced it with a look of concern. “Skylar, it’s cold, don’t catch a chill.” I ignored him, addressing everyone: “Who wants to remove me? I don’t agree!” A cold laugh came from among the board members, it was my stepmother, Victoria. “Skylar, your mental state has been deteriorating lately. You’re constantly throwing tantrums and smashing things. You’re simply not fit to hold a board position.” I suddenly remembered a few months ago, when I accidentally overheard them secretly talking in the garden. Victoria handed Alex a card, both of them acting furtively. He had then dismissed it as “pocket money” from my stepmother, a gesture from an elder. It turned out they had already colluded. Alex’s voice suddenly came through the microphone: “Everyone, please settle down. I have a video I’d like to show you all, of my wife, Skylar’s, recent… true condition.” The giant screen behind him lit up, showing me. I was screaming hysterically in the living room, my face contorted, violently smashing the bowl of bird’s nest soup on the floor. The video was meticulously edited, only showing my most uncontrolled moments, perfectly portraying me as a deranged lunatic. The room erupted in gasps. Victoria opportunely pulled out a handkerchief and began to sob quietly. I coldly watched Alex on the stage. He looked back at me, his eyes filled with feigned heartbreak. He was truly a good actor. As soon as the video finished, a man in a white lab coat appeared in the conference room. “I am Dr. Lewis, head of the Provincial Mental Hospital,” “According to my diagnosis, Ms. Forrester is experiencing an acute manic episode of bipolar disorder, with severe violent tendencies, and must be immediately placed in isolation for treatment!” Alex’s tears instantly welled up: “My wife’s mental state has been extremely unstable recently due to personal family reasons, and it has severely impacted the company’s normal operations.” “To protect our collective hard work, I propose that Ms. Forrester’s chairman position be temporarily suspended, and I be granted full authority to manage the subsequent crisis!” “Uncles and aunts, for Skylar’s sake, and for everyone’s safety, I have no choice but to do this!” No sooner had his words fallen than several of his cronies on the board immediately voiced their agreement. “Mr. Chen is right, the top priority is to stabilize the situation!” “Ms. Forrester should take care of her personal affairs first; her health is paramount.” The conference room door was once again flung open, and blinding flashlights instantly engulfed me. A group of reporters rushed in. Alex’s face was etched with a grief I had never seen before. “To all media friends, I am deeply pained.” He pushed me away, leading the reporters into the room. “My wife… she has developed some mental issues because she hasn’t been able to have children.” Several reporters’ recording pens appeared before me. “Ms. Forrester, have you truly developed a mental illness due to infertility?” “Mr. Chen said you’ve been smashing things at home, even becoming violent towards him, is that true?” “Can shareholders really trust the Forrester Group to a mentally ill person?” Before I could refute, Alex stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. He looked at the camera, his eyes red-rimmed: “Skylar, don’t be afraid. I’ll take you to the best hospital for treatment right away.” His performance was flawless, like a perfect husband utterly heartbroken for his wife. And I, wearing only a thin nightgown, my hair disheveled, my face ashen. He roughly dragged me, shoving me into a car from the mental institution.

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I was just a stand-in, playing the part of my wealthy best friend on an arranged date. But Rhys Donovan, the heir to a corporate empire, fell for me instead. From that day on, if any other man so much as glanced at me, he’d have their legs broken and their bodies thrown into the river. When I confessed I wasn’t who he thought I was, he carved three lines into the back of his hand, each one deep enough to show bone. “I don’t care who you are,” he’d whispered, his voice shaking. “Just don’t ever leave me. The thought of you marrying someone else, having a child with another man… it makes me want to kill them all.” He showered me with affection for three years. The night I was rushing home, bursting to tell him I was pregnant, I found him tangled in our marital bed with my best friend, both of them naked. A madness I couldn’t control seized me. I tried to throw them out. But Rhys, his eyes red with fury, slapped me across the face. “Ava, why do you have to be so unreasonable?” “I broke off my engagement with the Langford family for you! Isabelle is being tormented at home because of it. All she wants is a child to secure her position. Can’t you find it in your heart to understand?” My best friend knelt on the floor, clutching her stomach, her voice a desperate plea. “Ava, I’m already pregnant. The baby is innocent!” I stared at them, my heart a frozen stone in my chest. “We’re done.” Rhys’s sanity snapped. “Who gave you permission to say that?” In the middle of a hurricane, he locked me on the balcony, forcing me to listen to the storm rage outside and the sounds of their lovemaking inside, all night long. That was the night I lost our baby to a raging fever. Rhys Donovan, this time, I’m really letting you go. … I was on that balcony all night. Just as the cold was about to swallow me whole, Rhys finally opened the glass door, a sliver of mercy in a sea of cruelty. He draped a warm coat over my shivering body and tucked my frozen feet against his stomach to warm them. He sighed, a sound of weary frustration. “Ava, don’t blame me for being harsh. You’re just so stubborn. You fly off the handle over the smallest thing, threatening to leave me. This was the only way to make you listen.” He tilted my chin up. “See? Who else would love you, would cherish you, like this?” Cherish me? The word was a bitter joke. He knew the hurricane last night was no ordinary storm, yet he had locked me out in it deliberately. I had pounded on the glass until my fists were raw, screaming that I was pregnant, that the cold could make me miscarry. But Rhys had only lifted his head from Isabelle’s body for a moment, his gaze sweeping over me with a tired annoyance. “Ava, don’t tell such lies to get my attention. I love you, but I’m not a fool. You had your appendix out a few months ago. I haven’t touched you since because I was afraid of hurting you. Where would a baby come from?” Blood had trickled down my thighs, staining my dress crimson. I had screamed until my throat was raw, telling him I was miscarrying, begging him to take me to a doctor. Rhys had only gotten out of bed, opened the door just enough to frame his face, and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. “Shh, darling,” he’d soothed. “You must love me so much that you’ve imagined you’re carrying my child. Just wait. As soon as Isabelle gives birth, I promise I’ll give you a baby of your own. The three of us will be a happy family.” Then, he’d turned, retrieved a sanitary pad from the nightstand, and pressed it into my hand. “We’ve been together for three years. I have every one of your periods logged in my calendar. I know this isn’t a miscarriage. It’s just your time of the month, you silly girl.” After that, no matter how much I screamed, he ignored me. My agonized cries only seemed to fuel their passion. The more I suffered, the harder Rhys moved, and the louder Isabelle moaned, as if to make sure I heard every single second. The memory made me squeeze my eyes shut. I pushed Rhys’s hands away and shakily stood up, walking out of the room. The pain in my abdomen was so intense my legs threatened to buckle. The hem of my dress was soaked in blood. I locked myself in the bathroom and stood under the shower for an hour, trying to wash away the humiliation of the night. It was laughable to think that just yesterday, before coming home, I was naively planning my future with Rhys, filled with such hope. The man I thought was devoted to me, who had eyes only for me, had been sleeping with my best friend for months. I plugged in my dead phone. Once it had enough power, I opened my contacts and found the number for my gynecologist. “Hello, Doctor,” I said, my voice flat. “I need to schedule an abortion. As soon as possible.” With an appointment set for the afternoon, I changed into clean clothes and went downstairs. Rhys and Isabelle were already at the dining table, eating. The man who was usually so meticulous, almost obsessive about a clean table, was letting Isabelle make a complete mess of the food. She pouted. “I’m pregnant, I have no appetite. None of this tastes good. I’m craving that mango passionfruit trifle Ava makes. She’s so good at it!” As I reached for a chair, Rhys’s hand stopped me. “Ava, go make a trifle for Isabelle.” I stared at him in disbelief. “I haven’t eaten anything.” “Be good, Ava. Isabelle is pregnant. She comes first right now.” “She’s already made a mess of the food on the table, so you can’t eat that anyway. I’ve already asked the housekeeper to make something new. You can make the trifle while you wait.” I had no memory of ever making a mango passionfruit trifle. But Isabelle, my best friend, knew perfectly well that I was severely allergic to mangoes. I knew arguing was pointless. I turned and went to the kitchen in silence. When I returned with the bowl, my hands were swollen and covered in an angry, red rash. Rhys’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed my hands. “What happened to you? Are you hurt? Why are they so swollen?” He started to pull me towards the first-aid kit. But at that moment, there was a sharp crash from the table. Isabelle was bent over, gagging, tears welling in her eyes. “Ava, what did you put in this? Why do I feel so sick after eating it?” Rhys froze. He immediately dropped my hands and rushed to her side. “Ava, why would you do that?” “I know you hate me and Isabelle, but the baby is innocent! How could you be so cruel as to harm a child?” His eyes were daggers. I opened my mouth to defend myself. But he cut me off with a cold glare, shouldering past me as he rushed Isabelle out of the house. I stood by the table for a long time, my blood sugar so low I nearly fainted. Finally, I pulled out a chair, preparing to eat the leftover scraps. But the housekeeper came out and, right in front of me, scraped all the food into the trash. “Mr. Donovan called,” she said, not meeting my eye. “He said Miss Langford is not doing well. As a punishment, you are no longer allowed to eat in this house.” “The kitchen will be locked from now on. You are not to go near it. If you do, you will be thrown out.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. When he had signed this house over to me, he had declared to everyone that I was the lady of the house. That everything, including him, was mine to command. Now, he threatened to throw me out as if I were nothing more than an ant. I went to my desk and pulled a document from a drawer. We never had a wedding, but Rhys had insisted we get legally married. He’d said that since I’d tricked him by pretending to be Isabelle, he couldn’t trust me not to leave. He had to tie me to him. And for three years of blissful devotion, the thought of leaving had never once crossed my mind. But now, with Isabelle in the picture, everything had changed. I opened the folder, and with a few swift strokes, signed my name on the divorce papers. Then I sealed it in an envelope and took it with me to the hospital. I met with the doctor I’d scheduled. After the examination, he came back with the results, a gentle look on his face. “The baby is still alive. It has a very strong heartbeat. Do you want to try and save it?” I stared at him, stunned into silence for a moment before I finally managed to whisper, “No.” He sighed, not giving up. “But Mr. Donovan has been so looking forward to having a child with you. He knows it’s difficult for you to conceive, and he never wanted to pressure you by talking about it. If he knew, he’d be overjoyed!” While I hesitated, the doctor stepped out of the room. I heard him on the phone with Rhys, telling him I was in the maternity ward. Less than a minute later, Rhys burst in, breathless. He looked me up and down, a wave of relief washing over his face when he saw I was unharmed. “Ava, you’re being a little difficult. You knew I was with Isabelle. Why would you have the doctor call me over here?” I was about to tell him I hadn’t, but Rhys grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall to another room. Two people were standing guard outside. The moment they saw me, they approached. Isabelle’s father, his face contorted with rage, slapped me hard. “You ungrateful little witch!” he snarled, jabbing a finger in my face. “My daughter treated you like a sister, and you tried to poison her!” “You took her place on that date, stole her position as Mrs. Donovan, and she suffered in silence. Now that you’ve lost his favor, you try to blame her? No wonder Rhys presents her to the world as his wife and keeps you hidden away!” I looked at Rhys in shock. So that’s why he never took me to any events. That’s why whenever I called Isabelle to pass the time, she was always coincidentally busy. How many other secrets were they keeping from me? My cheek stung. I couldn’t swallow the insult. I raised my hand to strike back. “It was Isabelle who didn’t want the arranged marriage! She was threatening to jump off a roof! That’s the only reason I went in her place!” But Rhys caught my wrist, his brow furrowed. “Ava, Isabelle just collapsed. The doctors worked for hours to stabilize her. Just let her parents vent.” “They’re right. If you hadn’t pretended to be her on our date, I never would have wronged the Langford family.” I stared at him, my world tilting on its axis. Before I could react, Isabelle’s mother shoved me. My back slammed against a cold, hard bench, the impact knocking the wind out of me. She kicked at me with her sharp heels. “You’re a little tramp! Seducing Rhys, scheming against my daughter! You’ll pay for every tear she’s shed!” I curled into a ball, trying to shield myself, my eyes pleading with Rhys for help. He stood frozen, his fists clenched, his eyes filled with a mixture of pity and pain. But his feet were rooted to the spot. “Ava, just endure it for a little while. I’ll make it up to you after today.”

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After breaking up with Liam Sterling, I found out I was three months pregnant. I raised our little Lily all by myself for five years. But the sheer exhaustion of working three jobs finally caught up with me. I suffered a massive stroke and died suddenly. Now, I was floating in mid-air. And suddenly, I saw him. Liam Sterling, who was now a Hollywood superstar. He was knocking on my front door. 01 It took a long time for the door to open. “Who are you?” The one opening the door was my daughter, Lily. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the deadbolt, which took her a while. She looked warily at my ex-boyfriend—her biological father, Liam Sterling. Seeing it wasn’t me, Lily immediately tried to close the door. Liam caught the frame with his hand. He frowned. “Where is Emma Hayes?” Lily thought for a moment, looked up at him, and gave a bright smile. “You’re looking for my mommy! Mommy isn’t home.” “She’s at work.” Liam’s face darkened. He asked again, “Where is your dad?” It’s you! You are Lily’s father! I screamed frantically from mid-air, but he couldn’t hear me. Lily tilted her head. “My daddy is far, far away making lots of money. Mommy said when he makes enough money, he’ll come pick us up.” Liam’s frown deepened. Suddenly, he let out a self-deprecating laugh. He muttered to himself in a low voice. “Heh, I must be out of my mind. I actually thought you’d wait for me.” With that, he turned to leave. But he suddenly stopped. He asked for Lily’s full name. “Lily. Lily Hayes.” “Mommy says I’m her little flower, so my name is Lily.” Lily said it with so much pride. Liam’s eyes searched her small face. It was as if he was looking for some kind of proof. But in the end, he didn’t say anything. He stepped into his black stretch SUV. I looked at the car driving away into the distance, screaming. Don’t go, Liam! If you leave, what is our Lily going to do? She’s only five! How is she supposed to survive all alone? I turned back to my daughter, who was blinking her big eyes at the dust kicked up by the departing car, and coaxed her softly. Be a good girl, Lily. Go chase after Daddy. Mommy is gone now, he’s the only one who can take care of you. But Lily couldn’t hear me either. She just muttered, “What a weird man.” And she closed the door. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to slap myself across the face. Why didn’t I tell Lily who her father was sooner? Why didn’t I ever show her a picture of him? This was all my fault. It didn’t matter that I was dead. But my daughter… what was going to happen to her? 02 Lily swung her little legs from the chair, waiting for me to come home. The last light of the sunset faded. The sky grew dark. Normally, I would have been home by now. Because I knew Lily was terrified of the dark. But I was already dead. My coworker, Sarah, had just received the notification at the hospital that my resuscitation had failed. She was told to contact my next of kin. But when she opened my phone, she found the “Family” section of my contacts completely empty. However, everyone at work knew I had a child. So, that night, the phone in our tiny apartment rang. Lily ran toward the phone on her little legs. “Hello?” That sweet, innocent voice brought tears to my coworker’s eyes. She didn’t know how to explain to a little girl that her mother had passed away. That she was never coming back. “Is that you, Mommy?” Lily’s voice was full of excitement. “Are you working late again? It’s okay, I’m fine. I’m not hungry at all. I just ate the muffins Mommy bought.” She patted her round little belly as she spoke. “Lily… your mommy… she just passed away.” Lily asked, confused: “Where is passed away? Is it far? It’s okay, Mommy will definitely take me with her.” Once, because of a last-minute schedule change, I had to travel out of state for work. I couldn’t bear to leave Lily home alone. So I took her with me. It was Lily’s first time leaving our city. Sitting on the Amtrak train, she pointed at the scenery outside the window, thrilled. So right now, Lily still thought I just went on another business trip. Hearing her innocent reply, Sarah let out a heavy sigh. She didn’t know what else to say. She could only hang up the phone. In the end, she represented the company and sent my body to be cremated. All that was left of me was a single urn of ashes. 03 That night felt agonizingly long. It was the first time I hadn’t come home. Every so often, Lily would run to the front door, peeking out to see if I was there. But quickly, the darkness of the hallway would scare her back inside. She ran back and forth like this countless times. Unable to fight off her exhaustion. She finally fell asleep hugging the teddy bear I had bought her. Dawn broke. She jolted awake. She hurriedly ran to the door again. Seeing I still wasn’t back. A flash of disappointment crossed her face. But soon, she comforted herself. “It’s okay. Mommy is just really busy. She’ll be back soon.” Having eaten almost nothing the night before, her stomach began to rumble. She could only eat another muffin to fill the void. Then she opened a carton of milk I had bought. Mimicking what I used to do, she wanted to heat up some water on the stove to warm the milk. “Mommy said I can’t drink it cold, or my tummy will hurt.” As she spoke, she held a heavy pot filled with water. But her hands were so small, how could she possibly lift it? I was frantic, screaming at her to stop. But I was completely powerless. Standing on a stool, just as she tried to heave the pot onto the stove burner… Her grip slipped. Water splashed everywhere. The heavy metal pot crashed down right onto her tiny foot. Instantly, the top of her foot swelled up. My heart ached as if it were being carved out with a knife. But at the same time, I was so thankful the water hadn’t been boiling yet. Lily began to whimper softly. Quickly, she hugged her foot and blew on it. “Mommy isn’t here. I’ll blow on it myself, and it won’t hurt anymore.” She wiped her tears away. She dragged the stool over. She sat right in front of the living room, staring unblinkingly at the front door. “I won’t cry. When Mommy comes back, she’ll tell me how brave I am.” Lily was so well-behaved. So mature. So mature that it shattered my heart. How I wished she would resent me right now, blame me for being a terrible mother. But she just sat there, waiting so patiently for me to come home. 04 Two hours later. A car pulled up in front of our apartment building. Sarah knocked on the door. Lily was overjoyed, thinking it was me. She ran as fast as she could. But she tripped and took a hard fall. Her little leg was scraped by the sharp edge of the doorframe. But she just frowned, quickly scrambled back up, and opened the door. When she saw it wasn’t me. Her emotions finally broke. She burst into loud, heartbroken sobs. “Mommy… why isn’t Mommy back yet?” “My foot is swollen, and my leg hurts so much. I’ve been so brave!” “But Mommy still isn’t back. Mommy doesn’t care about me anymore.” “Does Mommy not love me anymore?” Lily cried so hard she could barely breathe. Hearing her, my heart shattered into a million pieces. … Sarah hurriedly comforted her. She found the first-aid kit in the bathroom, disinfected Lily’s scrape, and put a Band-Aid on it. After making sure she was okay. Sarah brought in my urn and the belongings cleared from my desk at work. Lily looked confused. But then she spotted a photograph I had kept on my desk. It was from a recent trip to the amusement park. In the photo, I was holding Lily, and we were both laughing brightly. She recognized me. She asked, “Miss, are these my mommy’s things? Where did my mommy go?” Sarah fought back her tears. She pointed at the small urn. “Your mommy… she’s inside here. If you miss her, you can hug it and talk to it.” Lily violently shook her head. “How could my mommy turn into a jar? She’s not a wizard, she can’t just magically shapeshift! You’re lying.” She pulled my photograph tightly into her arms. “This is my mommy.” She pressed a loud kiss to the photo. And smiled sweetly. Sarah let out a heavy sigh and placed my urn high up on a shelf. Then she looked around the empty apartment. She asked, “Where is your daddy? Are you all alone here?” Lily lowered her head. “Mommy said Daddy went far away to make money. I haven’t seen him since I was born.” Sarah looked at her in disbelief. “Do you have any other family? Grandparents? Aunts or uncles?” Lily shook her head. Sarah couldn’t hold back her tears any longer and pulled Lily into a tight hug. “You poor, sweet girl.” “You’re so little… how could your mother bear to leave you all alone in this world?” Lily argued back. “Mommy didn’t leave me! Mommy loves me the most!” Sarah pressed a debit card into Lily’s small hand. “This is the compensation money from your mommy’s company. There’s $30,000 on this card. The PIN is 0000. Keep it safe. Don’t ever lose it.” Lily nodded seriously. She gripped the card tightly in her fist. Because we were so poor, I had taught Lily from a young age that money was important and had to be guarded carefully. Now, she had etched that lesson into her heart. After figuring out the next steps. Sarah made a call to the local child protective services. They were an organization specifically for children with nowhere else to go. My heart swelled with profound gratitude. Floating in the air, I bowed deeply to my coworker. Thank you. If she could get into a safe children’s home, at least my little Lily would survive. 05 When the social workers arrived to pick Lily up. She refused to go. She clung to the doorframe, wailing at the top of her lungs. “You’re kidnappers! Don’t take me! I’m not worth any money!” The social workers didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The lead woman crouched down. She spoke to her gently: “We aren’t kidnappers, sweetie. We’re taking you to a new home.” Lily frowned. She told them very seriously. “This is my home! If you take me away, Mommy won’t be able to find me when she comes back. She’ll be so worried!” I covered my mouth, tears streaming down my face. The social workers exchanged a look, their own eyes growing damp. They gently coaxed her: “Be a good girl, Lily. Your mommy is the one who asked us to take you there. She had to go on a very long trip for work, and she can’t come back just yet. She asked us to take care of you until she does.” “Plus, there are lots of other kids just like you there. You won’t be lonely.” Lily listened carefully. She blinked her big eyes at them. “Really?” “Of course.” Only then did Lily slowly let go of the doorframe. But right before getting into the car. Lily ran back inside the apartment. She grabbed the teddy bear I bought her and the photograph of us. She held them tight against her chest. As the car drove away. It was Lily’s first time traveling so far with strangers. The bravery she had forced herself to show earlier… Shattered. Fear and panic washed over her all at once. She finally broke down sobbing. “Mommy, I promise I’ll be good. I’ll be so good.” “You have to come pick me up soon, okay?” I drifted behind the car, floating, following. Wherever Lily went, I went. But she couldn’t see me. And I couldn’t hold her.

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A distant great-aunt passed away, leaving me a massive inheritance. But there was a catch: to inherit the money, I had to raise her autistic grandson. 1 “How much?” I asked the lawyer. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stated a figure I absolutely could not refuse. “And that’s not including the real estate,” he added. My eyes lit up. I dusted off my knees, which were dirty from moving boxes all day. “Deal. Where do I sign?” “Ms. Davis, do you accept the attached conditions?” “It’s just raising a person, right? With that kind of money, I could raise a whole football team.” Mr. Wu, the lawyer, looked displeased. “He is not a typical person. You might need to thoroughly educate yourself on individuals with his specific condition.” I thought about it for a second. “Alright, let’s meet him first, then we’ll talk.” The next day at noon, I was a few minutes late arriving at the agreed-upon location. My team lead at the corporate grind-house had a habit of terrorizing employees. I couldn’t even count how many interns he had made cry. If I didn’t need the money to pay off my debts, I would have bailed ages ago. 2 When I arrived, I spotted Mr. Wu from a distance. He pointed toward a flower shop nearby, looking a bit exasperated. “He’s over there. Let’s head over, and I’ll explain on the way.” I walked with him into an absurdly large flower shop. Calling it a flower shop felt like an understatement; it was more like a mini botanical garden. “Oliver loves plants. He even majored in botany abroad. You must remember this: his one and only interest is plants.” I was surprised. “You mean he can study at a university level?” Mr. Wu gave me a deadpan look. “He has autism. He’s not stupid.” I nodded sheepishly. Mr. Wu reminded me, “If you can’t get him to accept you as family, you forfeit your right to the inheritance.” “So what’s the metric for ‘accepting’ me?” “That he is willing to live with you.” Mr. Wu continued listing things to watch out for, but my attention was suddenly hijacked by a figure standing ahead. 3 The young man was tall, lean, and pale. His eyes were starkly black and white, incredibly clear. He was staring unblinking at a potted plant in front of him. Sunlight filtered through the transparent skylight, casting a dusting of golden light over him. He reached out a long, slender finger and tapped a leaf. “Are you sick?” his voice was barely a whisper. “Is that him?” I asked Mr. Wu. He adjusted his glasses and gave a solemn nod. “Oliver, your aunt is here.” I quickly waved my hands. “I’m barely a few years older than him. Just call me by my name.” But clearly, Oliver was more familiar with Mr. Wu. Without even looking up, he repeated, “Auntie.” I tentatively walked up to him. “Do you like this tree?” It was like he didn’t even hear me. He just gently stroked the leaves, as if he were healing the plant. When we left the shop, I bought that potted plant and gave it to Oliver. When he took it, he softly whispered, “Thank you.” According to the contract, I took Oliver home to live with me. If we made it smoothly through the next three months, I would receive the entire inheritance. 4 The apartment I rented wasn’t huge, but it was perfectly fine for two people. Plus, it was close to my office, so I hadn’t considered moving. Oliver was visibly tense in the new environment. The only things he said to me were, “Where is Grandma?” or “Where is Mr. Wu?” I didn’t sugarcoat it. “Grandma passed away, and Mr. Wu is very busy. You’re going to live with me from now on, okay?” He didn’t say anything, so I assumed he agreed. But when I got home from work, he was gone. Panicking, I didn’t even take off my shoes and was about to rush out to find him, when I suddenly heard a noise from the balcony. I walked over and saw him huddled in the corner of the balcony, hiding himself behind a plant stand. He sat on the floor quietly, like a silent, dormant plant. I parted the dense leaves of a spider plant. He instinctively looked up, his eyes crystal clear. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Time to eat.” 5 He didn’t get up. He just asked me, “Where is Grandma?” “She passed away, remember?” It took a long moment before he blinked. “Grandma passed away.” “Come on out, let’s eat first.” He shrank further into the corner, pressing his hands tightly over his ears. “I don’t like it here. I want to go home.” Feeling helpless, I tried to coax him. “I’ll take you home after we eat.” He hesitated, dawdling for a long time before finally coming out. Mr. Wu had mentioned that Oliver had been living abroad for treatment since he was ten. It would take time for him to adjust to life back in the States. At the dinner table, he managed to eat half a bowl of rice. I breathed another sigh of relief. It was a very strange feeling. He felt like a rare, exotic plant that had just been transplanted into my home, and I was a novice gardener, trying to meticulously control every environmental factor to ensure he survived. After all, he was my literal money tree. 6 “Good job.” I patted his head praisingly. He didn’t pull away; he even reached up and patted his own head. His hair was fluffy and soft, kind of like the texture of a yew tree. The yew tree was the potted plant I had bought for him. After dinner, he gathered the bowls and took them into the kitchen, then turned around to look at me. “What is it?” “There’s no dishwasher here. But the housekeeper usually puts the bowls in the dishwasher.” I rolled up my sleeves. “It’s fine, go play.” He stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at me for a long time before walking away, looking exactly like a rich kid who had never seen how the peasants lived. By the time I finished cleaning the kitchen, he was talking to himself, facing the potted plant. As I mopped the floor, I moved closer. Listening carefully, I realized he was reciting the specific characteristics of that type of plant. The technical jargon completely went over my head. When he finished, I tried to strike up a conversation. “Are you talking to it?” “I’m talking to you.” “Got it. I’m listening.” He seemed a bit happy about that and crouched down to talk to the spider plant. I could tell he was incredibly familiar with the habits of these plants. When I finished mopping, he finally stood up and said, “Auntie, I want to go home now.” 7 “You don’t want to live with me?” “I live with Grandma.” “Grandma passed away. She asked me to take care of you. You’re going to live with me from now on, okay?” He immediately grew agitated. “No. I don’t want Auntie.” I rubbed my temples. Great, issues on day one. “I want to go home,” he repeated stubbornly. A sudden idea hit me. I pointed to the half-dead plants sitting on my windowsill. “If you leave, what will happen to them? There’s no one to help me take care of them. They’ll die.” He froze, his expression turning conflicted. I crouched down in front of him, clasping my hands together in a pleading gesture. “Could you please help me take care of them? I’m begging you.” “When they bloom, I’m going home.” Judging by his words, he had agreed to stay. 8 I catered to his interests, gradually turning the apartment into a botanical garden. Plants became our medium of communication. After a month of living together, he had at least grown used to my presence. Oliver possessed a genuine talent for gardening. My jasmine plant, which had never flowered before, suddenly sprouted numerous buds. He even knew exactly what time the flowers would open. He would sit on the balcony in the middle of the night waiting, and the moment a flower bloomed, he’d shake me awake. Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I’d let him drag me out to look at the flowers. When Oliver was happy, his eyes would sparkle like starlight, making them look even more vivid and alive. “Does Nora like flowers?” he asked me. Ever since I told him my name, he switched between calling me Auntie and Nora. “I like them,” I said, stifling a yawn. “I have lots and lots of flowers at home. Mr. Wu said someone is taking care of them, but I want to go home.” He was talking about his home abroad. Oliver had a 3,000-square-foot greenhouse there. “When I get some time off, I’ll go back with you.” He didn’t reject the idea this time. He smiled and said okay. 9 One day, I came home from work, and the elderly neighbor next door was giving me a very weird look. She shook her head and sighed as she walked past me. My head was full of question marks. Before I could process it, my front door was pushed open. My ex-boyfriend, Mark, stood there, looking at me with a mocking sneer. “Wow, Nora. We haven’t even been broken up for two months, and you’ve already moved some random guy in?” I pushed past him. Oliver was carrying dishes to the table. “Auntie, time to eat.” I whipped around and slapped Mark across the face. “You made him cook?!” Mark clutched his cheek and roared, “I cooked the damn food! He insisted on carrying it!” 10 A bizarre silence descended over the dinner table. After a long time, I finally spoke. “Give me back the key.” “You’re pretty ruthless,” Mark said, crossing his arms and looking Oliver up and down. “He’s a relative on Richard’s side. Does he even count as your nephew?” “If he found me, he counts,” I replied. Mark knew I came from a blended family. Richard was my stepdad. He died of a heart attack after his business failed, leaving behind a mountain of debt. Mark’s lips twitched in a sneer. “It’s one thing to pay off Richard’s debts, but to take on a massive burden like this? Have you lost your mind?” “You don’t understand.” He wasn’t a burden; he was my money tree. Mark let out a harsh scoff. “I’m preparing to study abroad. I’m leaving in a few days.” I remained expressionless. “Congratulations.” “I said I’m leaving the country, and you have no reaction? You’re not going to ask me to stay?” Before I could even open my mouth, Oliver suddenly chimed in. “Don’t want him to stay.”

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The night before our wedding, I found Margot Prescott in bed with a total stranger. For a woman as poised and untouchable as she was, it was the first time I’d ever seen her completely come apart. She sat there, tangled in the high-thread-count sheets of the bridal suite, her face slick with tears. She whispered that she’d had too much to drink, that she’d mistaken him for me, that it would never, ever happen again. The boy—and he was just a boy back then—sobbed along with her. He claimed he’d been obsessed with Margot for years, that he’d bribed a porter to get the key card. He knelt on the floor and bowed his head, swearing he’d disappear from our lives forever. For the next eight years, we were the gold standard. The couple everyone envied. We lived in a beautiful brownstone in Chicago, our lives a seamless blend of shared history and professional success. We were “The Prescotts,” even though I’d kept my own name, Grant. Then came Margot’s thirtieth birthday. I took a week off work and endured an eleven-hour flight to London to surprise her at her overseas post. I stopped at a small corner shop near her flat to grab a bottle of water. A man stood at the counter next to me, his phone pressed to his ear. “You’re so needy tonight,” he chuckled. “It’s only been an hour, and you’ve already blown up my phone.” He paused, a predatory grin spreading across his face. “Just wait. Tonight, I’m going to make sure you can’t even walk tomorrow morning.” … Being a fellow American in a foreign city, I glanced at him out of habit. My heart didn’t just skip a beat; it stopped. The man was him. The boy from the hotel room. Years had sharpened his jawline and filled out his frame, but I knew that smirk. He didn’t recognize me. He turned to the cashier, still talking. “I’m not cold. I’m wearing plenty of layers, baby. You can check for yourself in a bit.” His voice dropped to a suggestive silkiness. “You can slide your hand right under my waistband, follow the curve of my back until you hit…” Driven by a sickening impulse, I pulled out my phone and texted Margot. [Margot, are you off work yet?] No reply. The man reached for the shelf behind the counter and grabbed two boxes of condoms. The same brand, the same scent—the one Margot always insisted I use. “It’s your birthday,” the man said into the phone, his voice bright and triumphant. “You get to decide how many rounds we go.” I looked down at my phone again. Still nothing. I followed him out of the shop, staying back in the shadows of the London drizzle. He laughed into the receiver. “Stop rushing me. I see your car. God, you really can’t wait, can you?” The rain hit my face, cold as needles. With trembling fingers, I pressed the call button for Margot. A mechanical female voice informed me that the person I was calling had “Do Not Disturb” turned on. I felt a hollow ache in my chest. She’d told me the London branch was grueling. She said once she stepped into that office, she was off the grid. It wasn’t the first time I couldn’t reach her. A sleek black Bentley pulled up at the corner. “Margot!” the man called out, stepping toward the passenger side. I turned my head just enough to see. And in that moment, I was pinned to the pavement. The window was halfway down. The woman in the driver’s seat was striking, her profile etched with a cold, aristocratic beauty. She looked like a swan. The man leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. She smiled, a soft, indulgent expression I knew better than my own reflection. “Always with the theatrics,” she murmured. The streetlights were dim, but I saw her with terrifying clarity. This was the woman who had been the architecture of my entire life. Age three: We held hands on the first day of preschool. She’d pressed a piece of butterscotch into my palm and whispered, “I’ll protect you, Oliver. Don’t cry.” Age sixteen: She’d sketched my portrait and hidden it in her sketchbook, movie-style. When I found it, her ears turned bright red. “I like you, okay? So what?” Age nineteen: Our first real date. When we finally kissed, she was so giddy she paid for every person’s meal in the bistro. “I want the whole world to know I’m the luckiest woman alive.” Age twenty-two: I proposed, and in front of both our families, she swore I was the only man she would ever love. It all froze on that night before the wedding. The hotel door opening. The sight of her and a stranger, limbs entwined, raw and exposed. Everyone told me it was a fluke. A drunken mistake. They said a lifetime of shared memories shouldn’t be discarded over one night of poor judgment. Even the boy had knelt at my feet, weeping, claiming he’d manipulated her. Margot, usually so proud, had broken. When I stayed silent, she picked up a paring knife from the fruit basket and pointed it at her own heart. “Oliver, I’ve failed you,” she’d sobbed, her voice vibrating with terror. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you. My heart belongs to you and only you.” Her face had been a blur of tears. “Don’t leave me. Please, baby. You know how long I’ve loved you. If you leave, I’ll die. I swear I will.” I had buried that memory. I had convinced myself we were a single organism, two halves of a whole, destined to grow old together. But in this second, on a rainy street in London… Thirty years of history collapsed into dust. I walked back to the apartment I’d rented, my mind a white noise of shock. My mother texted me: [How is it? Margot must be thrilled you’re there!] I took a shaky breath, swallowing the bile in my throat, and typed back: [Not yet. Just got to her place. Keeping it a surprise.] The door to the flat clicked open. Margot walked in, looking flushed. When our eyes met, her expression flickered with a micro-second of guilt before smoothing into a mask of perfect composure. “Oliver? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have picked you up from Heathrow.” “I wanted to surprise you,” I said, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else. She smiled and crossed the room, throwing her arms around me. “I hate that you went through all that trouble. The jet lag must be killer, and just for my birthday?” Her phone buzzed in her pocket. As she checked it, her face softened into that familiar look of patience and tenderness. “I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, looking up with an apologetic pout. “I actually have a late meeting with a client. I have to head back out. You must be exhausted.” Without waiting for me to respond, she went to the closet and grabbed a small bag. I knew. She wasn’t here for me. She was here for whatever the man had forgotten. I had spent weeks decorating this temporary flat for her. I’d taken time off, lost a major account, and spent half a day sourcing a specific vintage vase she’d mentioned once in passing. The vase was gone. Even the framed photo of us on the fridge had vanished. A sharp, damp cold seeped through my rain-slicked coat and into my marrow. I stood up abruptly and grabbed my suitcase. “Are you angry?” Margot asked, catching my arm. “The place is a mess, let me book you a room at the Savoy nearby. I promise, I’ll spend all of tomorrow with you. Okay?” She leaned in to kiss me, just as she always did. A scent hit me. A strange, sharp citrus cologne. His scent. I pulled away. Margot didn’t seem to care; she was already checking her watch, eager to be gone. At the elevator, a woman from the neighboring flat watched me leave. She let out a low whistle, her eyes trailing over me. “How much?” she asked with a cynical smirk. “If she doesn’t want you tonight, I’ll take you.” “She has a boyfriend,” I said coldly. “Oh, I’ve seen him,” the neighbor laughed. “He’s handsome, sure, but why do you look like your world just ended? Everyone in the building knows them. They’re the ‘happy couple’ of the fourth floor.” She moved to touch me, and I recoiled, my heart hammering against my ribs. I didn’t wait for the elevator. I hit the stairs and ran. I didn’t stop until I reached the airport. I sat in the terminal, staring at nothing, wondering how we got back here. In the first two years of our marriage, I had nightmares. I’d see her in that hotel room, naked in the arms of that stranger. I’d wake up gasping. She would hold me. She would whisper, “It’s my fault. I broke my husband’s heart, and I’ll spend forever fixing it.” She changed all her passwords to my birthday. She introduced me as her soulmate at every gala. She gave me a play-by-play of her entire day. When she traveled, she kept FaceTime on all night so I could hear her breathing while I slept. We were both so careful. So fragile. When did the rot start? I remembered the man’s name from eight years ago. Dominic West. I opened social media. It took one minute to find him. His profile picture was taken inside Margot’s office back in the States. In the background hung a painting I’d commissioned for her—a piece I’d waited outside a gallery for six hours to secure because she said she liked the artist’s “soul.” Dominic was a travel blogger now. A minor influencer. I scrolled. The first hint of her appeared three years ago. A photo of Dominic holding a woman’s hand. The background was our high school football field. [Found my way back to my Golden Girl.] That was where we’d first held hands at eighteen. Margot’s palms had been sweaty. She’d told me, “When we’re old and grey, we’re coming back here.” Two years ago, our anniversary. Margot said she was stuck at a corporate retreat. Dominic’s feed showed them eating street food at a night market. Last New Year’s, I was hospitalized with a brutal case of the flu. Margot appeared in the corner of Dominic’s video, carefully bandaging a scratch on his finger. My hands were shaking so hard I almost dropped the phone. She was never centered in the photos. But that jawline, the mole on her wrist… I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. A new post popped up. A photo of a lace maid’s outfit, so skimpy it made my stomach turn. [My reward tonight.] That’s what she’d come back to the apartment to get. The comments were full of fans joking. [Lucky guy! Your girl clearly adores you.] Dominic replied: [I asked her when she first fell for me. She said it was eight years ago. The day I finally told her I loved her. She said my eyes were so bright it scared her. She never forgot it.] Eight years ago. The night I caught them. I felt like I was suffocating. Dominic posted a video next. The camera panned over a bed covered in rose petals. “My followers want to know,” Dominic’s voice said off-camera. “Now that you’re thirty, what’s the plan for us?” Margot’s voice, silk and honey, drifted through the speakers. “The plan?” “I think I’m ready to have your baby.” The camera blurred as the phone was tossed aside, the sound of rustling fabric filling the silence. My fingers were numb. I had to dial her three times before I hit the right buttons. She picked up on the third ring. “Margot,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Am I in your plans for the future?” There was a pause. “Of course you are, Oliver. Why are you asking this now?” In the background, I heard Dominic’s low murmur. “Focus, baby. Or I’m going to have to punish you.” If I hadn’t seen him, I would have thought it was a colleague. A TV in the background. Anything else. The love I’d carried for thirty years evaporated. It didn’t burn; it just went cold. “Are you doing this again?” Margot’s voice sharpened into irritation. “The paranoia? Oliver, I turned down a dozen international postings because of your insecurity. I’m here working for our future. Can you just give me a minute to breathe?” I let out a soft, broken laugh. “You’re right, Margot. I’m insecure.” “When you get back to Chicago, we’re getting a divorce.” She hung up first. “Fine,” she snapped. “Whatever you want.” The dial tone was a rhythmic thud against my skull. I didn’t sleep for a single second of the flight home. I’d thought happiness was something we’d built together, brick by brick. I didn’t realize the foundation was made of sand. After a day of staring at the walls of our empty house, I got a text. [I’m back. We have dinner at my parents’ tonight. Don’t cause a scene in front of them.] [Oliver, you’re an adult. Stop throwing a tantrum and show up.] I replied with a single word: [Okay.] When I arrived at the Prescott estate, both families were already seated. Margot sat next to me, her face a mask of cool elegance. She leaned in, her voice a hushed whisper. “Are you still sulking?” She slid a box across the table into my lap. Inside was a watch. “It was my fault. There. I said it. This is an olive branch. Smile for the cameras, okay?” My skin crawled. Just before I’d left for the airport in London, Dominic had posted again. A bed littered with gifts. He’d unboxed them one by one: a limited edition watch, custom designer suits, the keys to a new car. He’d held up this specific, basic-model watch with a sneer. “This one’s boring. I don’t want it.” Margot’s voice had laughed lovingly in the video. “I buy you gifts on my birthday and you still complain? Fine, I’ll just throw it away.” I let the watch slide off my lap and hit the floor with a dull thud. Margot’s brow furrowed. “What more do you want from me? Take it or leave it.” Margot’s mother smiled warmly from the head of the table. “I heard Oliver flew all the way to London and you were too busy with work to see him. That was naughty of you, Margot.” My mother chimed in, trying to keep the peace. “Oh, he’s just sensitive. Oliver, did you give her the gift? You know, your grandmother’s ring you spent months tracking down?” “Grandmother’s ring?” Margot froze. She turned to me, her eyes wide. “Oliver… you found it? You actually found it?” Her cool exterior melted. For a moment, she looked like the girl who’d given me butterscotch in preschool. Her eyes shimmered with genuine emotion. The parents all laughed. “Look at her. She’s smitten.” “No,” I said quietly. “Someone else made a better offer. I sold it.” The room went silent. Margot’s smile died. She forced a laugh. “Oliver, that’s not funny.” I didn’t blink. I reached into my coat and pulled out the divorce papers. “I met Dominic West, Margot.” “I figured if I didn’t divorce you, he’d have to spend the rest of his life as a mistress. And that just seems cruel, doesn’t it?”

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After I died, I discovered that my husband, Carter, could still see me. He wept tears of joy, saying we could be together forever. Later, he started coming home less and less. Even later, I saw the girl trailing behind him. She looked exactly like I used to. One day, that girl suddenly came down with an incurable, mysterious illness. The occultist said a dark, unclean entity was trying to harm her. Carter slowly turned and looked at me, while I stood there entirely lost. 1 I couldn’t process what was happening. I shook my head frantically at him. No one else could hear our conversation, nor could they see me. “Carter, it’s not me. You know me better than anyone.” At the same time, Lily, lying weakly on the bed, began to whimper. “Carter… it hurts so much…” Carter didn’t speak. He just kept staring at me floating in mid-air. His eyes were filled with scrutiny and dissatisfaction. I remembered what the occultist had just said: “This young lady might be entangled by a dark entity.” Lily looked terrified, shrinking into Carter’s embrace while crying. “Carter, I’ve never done anything bad in my life. Why would a dark entity want to haunt me?” Carter comforted her, “Lily, this isn’t your fault.” At the time, I didn’t understand what he meant by that. Now I do. He meant it was my fault. I was the “dark entity.” Lily asked the occultist, “Sir, is there any way to suppress this thing?” The occultist pulled out several warding sigils and a carved ashwood dagger. Lily took the dagger, waving it around fearfully. Whether intentional or not, the tip of the blade pointed directly at me. In an instant, I felt an agonizing, tearing pain rip through my soul. I couldn’t dodge. I was practically pinned in the air. Even without a physical body, the torment made me feel like I would dissipate in the next second. And Carter just kept looking in my direction, completely indifferent. Lily dropped the dagger, then picked up the warding sigils and looked at Carter. “Carter, could you help me put these sigils up?” I watched Carter. Watched him walk over and take those pieces of paper. Then, he smiled and patted Lily’s head. “Okay.” Once the sigils were plastered in all four corners of the room, the holy energy blasted my already exhausted soul straight out of the house. This was my marital home with Carter. The home we had shared for seven years. I scrambled up pathetically, trying to phase through the front door, only to find it was utterly futile. The residual pain from the ashwood dagger lingered. After my failed attempts, I collapsed and curled up in the corner of the porch. The front door opened. I scrambled up, overjoyed. “Carter…” Carter looked at me, his expression incredibly complex. “Hazel, from now on, don’t come inside anymore.” “Maybe you didn’t do it on purpose.” “But her health is truly fragile. Don’t hurt her anymore.” I didn’t know what to say. It’s hard to describe how I felt hearing those words. The man in front of me no longer seemed like the Carter who once swore he would love me for the rest of his life. A year ago, when I died, he had cried so heartbrokenly. Why had everything changed? “But this is my home. Our home. Why can’t I go inside?” “Because you’re dead!” “Because you are a wandering spirit now. You fear nothing, but she can’t handle it. Your presence affects her, makes her sick.” “Hazel, you never used to be this unreasonable.” As Carter turned to go back inside, I could only murmur to myself. “I didn’t hurt her.” His footsteps paused, but then he closed the door. He was wrong. I wasn’t entirely fearless. I wondered if he had noticed that my soul was fading, becoming more transparent. 2 I used to watch horror movies and thought that when people died and became ghosts, they possessed strange, terrifying powers. That they were truly afraid of nothing. They could even haunt the living. But after my own accidental death, I realized I wasn’t one of them. I had no powers whatsoever. Aside from Carter, I couldn’t make anyone else see me. In the very beginning, I even felt like I could dissipate at any moment. Because my body would often flicker and turn transparent. Whenever Carter noticed, he would cry and beg me not to leave him, and my condition would vastly improve. Today, he probably didn’t notice. I curled up in the corner, laughing bitterly. I wasn’t the only wandering spirit in this neighborhood. There were many other strange, hostile things. Right now, I couldn’t even keep my form solid. I didn’t know how I was going to survive tonight. When did things get this bad between Carter and me? Probably starting from when he stopped coming home at night not long ago. I used to be able to follow him wherever he went. But that night, I suddenly found I couldn’t. Maybe it was because of his parting words: “Don’t follow me tonight.” I remembered his friends had tricked him into visiting a psychiatric ward. They thought he was losing his mind from grief over my death, because he frequently talked to thin air. Later, paparazzi caught photos of Carter Sterling, the billionaire CEO, visiting a psychiatrist for “talking to himself.” It caused a huge scandal. For days, Carter felt like he was being mocked behind his back. I still remember how devastated he was by my death. When he first realized he could see me, he wept with joy, nearly going crazy with happiness. He said heaven was moved by our love, allowing us to stay together in this way. But now, it seemed this “heaven-moving” love had become a burden to him. He didn’t want the world to view him as abnormal anymore. So he drastically reduced the times we went out together, and even our conversations dwindled. Soon after, he brought Lily home. I didn’t know who she was. I only knew she sweetly called him “Mr. Sterling,” and they could communicate openly in the sunlight. While I could not. Even before she fell ill, it had been a long time since Carter and I had a proper conversation. “Well, well, isn’t this the little canary from the big mansion?” “What, you got kicked out?” “I told you long ago, the living and the dead don’t mix. Why don’t you come play with me—” There weren’t many wandering spirits in this area, but the few that existed were vicious. I had personally witnessed one of them tear another newly deceased soul to shreds. I stood up in terror, calling out to Carter. “Carter, I’m so scared…” A pale, rotting hand reached out to grab me. “Aren’t your man and his new toy madly in love? I saw them making out in his car not long ago. Tsk, the guy has no spine—he had to put on his ‘respectable’ mask the second he stepped out.” “You’re a dead woman. Why keep bothering him? Let him find true love!” I refused to believe the spirit’s words. I only knew that Carter had sworn he would never betray me. But the harder I pounded on the front door, the louder the soothing music inside became. They were dancing to the music, Lily laughing joyously in his arms. Maybe he would post it on social media. Maybe his friends would congratulate him on finally stepping out of his grief. Then he would become a normal person again, rather than a lunatic deemed insane because his dead wife’s ghost refused to leave. 3 When dawn broke, the dark things finally retreated. I wasn’t afraid of the sunlight. It was just that right now, I was so incredibly weak I couldn’t even twitch. Those hostile spirits enjoyed tearing souls apart for fun. But I was different from the others. Every time I was torn to shreds, I would miraculously piece myself back together. They found it fascinating. In the past, I spent every night in Carter’s bed, where they couldn’t enter. From now on, that probably wouldn’t be the case. I felt so lost, wondering how I would survive all the nights to come. The door finally opened. Carter rushed out, carrying Lily in his arms. I stayed curled in the corner, watching him quietly. My body seemed even more transparent. “Hurry, to the hospital!” He didn’t acknowledge my gaze. Only after placing her in the car did he turn his head, frowning as he shot me a glance. That one look contained so many emotions. Mostly, it was blame. But I didn’t even understand what I had done wrong. I wanted him to stay with me, to ask me if I was in pain. But maybe that was never going to happen again. When Carter returned from the hospital, I was still curled up in the corner. “Hazel, let’s talk.” My voice was hoarse. I gave a faint laugh. “Out here?” He had no intention of letting me back into the house. “Let’s just talk here. If you go inside, she might feel sick again when she gets back.” “Some things need to be made clear right now.” Before he could continue, I cut him off. “I have never harmed her.” But Carter exploded in sudden fury. He stood up, throwing a punch that passed right through my ethereal body and slammed into the wall behind me. “Then you tell me why, ever since she moved in here, she’s been coming down with all these bizarre, unexplainable illnesses!” “Don’t tell me it’s all a coincidence! Hazel, I’m not a fucking idiot!” His eyes were red, his emotions wildly volatile. “You know perfectly well that people think I’m mentally unstable. To help me, she threw away her own reputation.” “She’s the only one willing to believe that I can actually see you.” I sat up abruptly. “You told her you can see me?” Carter didn’t think that was the main issue. “If she wasn’t willing to believe me and stay by my side, my reputation and the company’s stock would tank, do you understand?” “Everyone would think I’m a clinically insane psychopath!” I looked at him calmly, feeling a mix of helplessness and resignation. “Carter, you fell in love with her, didn’t you?” I was just laying the truth out in the open. But that made him even more agitated. “Why is your mind so filthy?” “I said I would never betray you, and that won’t change. Is your wild paranoia the reason you decided to hurt her?!” I didn’t have the energy to repeat myself. “So what do you want me to do?” He let out a heavy breath. “Leave this place for a while. Stay far away from me for now.” I asked him, “If I leave, and she still gets sick, proving it wasn’t me, will you let me come back?” He fell silent. He didn’t speak. I think I had my answer. 4 If I was going to leave, I had to do it now. Once night fell and those things came out again, I might never be able to leave. I knew that once Carter made a decision, begging him was useless. And I wasn’t going to beg him anyway. Avoiding his gaze, I struggled to my feet and began to walk away. “You’re leaving just like that?” “Honestly, you were probably getting sick of this too. I just gave you a convenient excuse.” I left decisively, and ironically, he was the one unhappy about it. Unwilling to say another word, my soul felt unimaginably heavy. Every step was agonizingly difficult, but I refused to linger even for a second. I heard his footsteps behind me. But then they abruptly stopped. Followed by a fit of violent, violent coughing. “Mr. Sterling? What’s wrong?” “We’re about to take you to the hospital to visit Ms. Evans anyway, you should get a checkup too.” “Could it be… that dark entity wasn’t satisfied with hurting Ms. Evans, and now it wants to hurt you too?” At this point, I had no desire to defend myself. It was all pointless. Whatever Carter said next, I didn’t care. If he chose to believe it, defending myself ten thousand times wouldn’t change his mind. After leaving the estate, I was completely lost. This was my first time being a wandering ghost. I didn’t know why I ended up like this. I was dead, yet unable to pass on. Before Carter told me to leave, I physically couldn’t move far from him. Was it really like he said? Did his love move heaven, allowing me to stay by his side? Thinking about it now, that theory was hilariously absurd. So where could I go now? I didn’t know. I only knew my body was becoming increasingly transparent. It hadn’t actually been that long since my death. Yet I had already forgotten so many things. Suddenly, I lost consciousness in a split second. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself inside a temple sanctuary. Although I had no clear memory of it, standing there gave me an inexplicable sense of familiarity. There was no one else in the temple. Just me, and a single, burning lamp. The wick was weak; the candlelight was no longer bright. But when the wind blew, the flame remained entirely motionless. Memories suddenly flooded my mind, scrambling to the surface. “I ask for nothing else. I only hope my wife finds peace and safety, that she survives this ordeal, recovers quickly, and returns to me.” “If it’s permitted, I want to live with her, and die with her.” “I refuse to live in this world alone.” The man had climbed to the highest peak, taking one step and bowing his head to the ground with every single stride. When he stood up, his forehead was swollen and bleeding. I remembered now. That was probably the year Carter loved me the most. During the company’s annual gala, he went on stage to give a speech. A heavy crystal chandelier above him came loose, and no one noticed. I was the one who rushed forward and shoved him out of the way, taking the crushing impact myself and falling into a deep coma. While I was unconscious, I could only faintly hear Carter’s desperate murmurs. He said if I didn’t pull through, he was ready to die with me. In my unconscious dream state, I learned that because of Carter’s absolute devotion, the sanctuary had quietly lit a “soul-bound lantern.” It used both of our souls as the wick. If one soul disappeared from the other’s side, the other would die. I thought, I can’t let him die. That sheer will to live woke me up. Back then, I thought that having a soul-bound lantern was a wonderful thing. As long as we loved each other, nothing could ever tear us apart. But today, floating in this temple, I learned another secret. The reason I was anchored to this world wasn’t because Carter’s love had moved heaven. It was simply because, right after I died, I begged the Warden of the Afterlife to let me return.

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My best friend and I just got hit with the ultimate plot twist. We’re both pregnant. Unexpectedly. She’s carrying the child of an A-list movie star ex, and I have the baby of a terrifyingly powerful billionaire tycoon. Given that neither of these men seems to have “fatherhood” on their bingo card, my bestie suggested the impossible: “What if we just dump the dads and keep the kids?” I didn’t hesitate. “I’m in! Where you go, I go!” So, we grabbed our positive tests and fled the country, kicking off our happily ever after in paradise. Until two years later. Her baby went viral on TikTok because he looks exactly like the movie star father. And the camera caught me and my daughter in the shot. That very night, my bar was surrounded by a fleet of black SUVs. Before I could dial 911, my hands were pinned behind my back with a leather belt. He grabbed my waist, his voice raw with terrifying fury: “Go on. Call them. But guess how many times I’ll ruin you before the cops even show up?” 1 Heartbroken and single, my best friend Avery dragged me to a high-end bar to forget. She was just about to run her hand over a male model’s abs. When Oscar-winning actor Ethan Cole slammed through the bar doors. Ethan didn’t bother with a disguise. He stalked over, furious, pointing at the model who looked remarkably like him. “Who is he? Avery, are you using him as a substitute for me?” Avery looked up, a cold smirk playing on her lips as she stood up. “What? You used me as a substitute for Chloe St. James. Why can’t I find someone to replace you?” “Besides, your family’s heirloom diamond necklace is already on someone else’s neck.” Ethan choked on his own words. His voice went pale as he tried to explain, “I told you, I didn’t give her that necklace.” Avery: “Fine. Go get it back.” Silence fell between them like a roaring river, making the bar’s noise seem even louder. Ethan stood frozen for a long moment before finally sighing out, “I’m sorry. I can’t.” Even though she expected that answer, the expression on Avery’s face shattered. Her eyes were red. She grabbed her purse, gave me a look that said call me, and strutted out of the bar on her high heels. Ethan nodded to me, then chased after her. Thinking about the last few times Ethan had easily coaxed her back. I panicked and yelled, “Ava! Don’t you dare soften! This is a matter of principle!” “Break up! You absolutely have to break up this time!” My throat was raw from shouting. Suddenly, a hand with long, elegant fingers handed me a slice of watermelon. I looked at the hand, my heart fluttering a bit. Damn, I thought, this male model really knows how to treat a girl! I turned around, smiling: “Hey sweetie, what’s your name?” The second the words left my mouth, I froze solid. The male models in the booth were gone. Only Dominic Sterling was standing behind me. Chiseled features, a sharp jawline, and eyes looking at me like they were filled with ice. Terrified, I took a step back, but he grabbed my wrist. Dominic Sterling looked at me, a dangerous half-smile on his face: “You like ‘sweeties’?” “Fine. Let’s go home! I’ve got something sweet for you to see all night long!” 2 That night, Dominic Sterling had me pinned against the floor-to-ceiling window until dawn. The view overlooked the entire city skyline from a penthouse in one of the most expensive zip codes in the country. If it weren’t for Dominic, I wouldn’t even have the right to be in this neighborhood. But of course, I wasn’t Dominic Sterling’s girlfriend. At best, I was his high-end kept woman. During my first year trying to make it as an actress, I met a director who tried to impose the “casting couch” rules on me. Even though I rejected him at the dinner table multiple times, he kept pushing. Just as his hand was about to slide under my dress, Dominic appeared. He defused the situation with a single, careless sentence. He was the powerful, untouchable billionaire mogul, and I was just a fresh-faced, struggling nobody. Dominic’s pursuit wasn’t obvious. No massive, public displays of affection or gifts. But he took care of me everywhere, plus he had that face that could put any Hollywood leading man to shame. Over time, it was a lie to say I wasn’t smitten. But I knew my place. A kept woman is a kept woman. There’s a world of difference between that and a real girlfriend. I understood completely: we were never destined for a happy ending. I was always going to leave. “You’re still distracted?” Probably to punish me for not focusing, Dominic’s movements behind me grew harder: “What are you thinking about? Thinking about your ‘sweetie’?” I gasped out loud, my fingernails digging into his arm. I bit my lip and shook my head. But my response clearly didn’t satisfy him. He flipped me over: “Don’t worry. I’ll give you something to think about.” A long time later, after the storm calmed down, Dominic carried me to the bathtub and held me in his arms. While I was recovering, I suddenly asked, “I heard your older sister, Eleanor, is back?” “Yeah.” Dominic had always been close to Eleanor. She practically ran the entire Sterling family’s affairs. Most importantly, I heard Eleanor brought a woman back with her this time. A woman who was supposed to be Dominic’s arranged fiancée. Thinking about this, I cautiously asked, “Can I meet her?” Dominic’s eyes snapped open. He scrutinized me for a moment before coldly saying, “No need.” Of course. A kept woman wasn’t worthy of meeting the family. I hid the disappointment in my heart and smiled at him: “Okay.” That night, Avery, who said she would call me, never did. It wasn’t until noon the next day that she finally sent a message. [Relax, we didn’t get back together.] 3 I thought my life would just go on like that. Until a month later, when Avery and I realized Aunt Flo was late for both of us. We agreed to go to the doctor together. The moment the ultrasound results came back, we both stared at the words “Pregnancy Confirmed” on the paper, falling into a collective silence. Avery grabbed my ultrasound results and criticized me for failing to protect myself. “You said you were going to ditch him after getting some acting roles! You didn’t use protection?” “I did!” I protested loudly. But then I thought about the intensity against that window that night. My voice dropped: “But… it might have broken.” Avery rolled her eyes, too tired to even roast me. Now it was my turn to grab her results. I yelled, “You’re roasting me? What about you! You don’t even have a boyfriend! Whose kid is this? Some random hookup?” Avery’s eyelashes fluttered. She shot me a guilty look and muttered, “It’s Ethan’s.” “Whose?” I thought I heard wrong, my face turning into a confused mess. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and yelled in my ear, “My ex! Ethan Cole!” My ears were ringing. I mumbled, dissatisfied, “Okay, okay, Ethan Cole. You don’t have to yell!” Avery was broken up, and Ethan still had his ‘white moonlight’ ex, Chloe St. James. And me? I was Dominic Sterling’s hidden mistress. His fiancée had just returned to the country. Thinking about this, we looked at each other and sighed. Clearly, neither of these men would want to claim these babies. After a long silence, Avery grabbed my hand and said hesitantly, “What if… we just dump the dads and keep the kids?” I thought about it: “Fine. Dominic has been pretty generous over the years. Plus, with the money I made acting, it should be enough to buy a nice place in Australia.” “We can get a dog, a cat. One villa, two moms, two kids.” This is our retirement plan! 4 Let’s go! Even though Ethan was still hounding Avery, they were broken up and not living together, so she could leave anytime. But my situation was much trickier. During that time, I was trying to figure out how to propose ending this relationship, but I couldn’t find the right opportunity. Until one night, Dominic staggered home, completely wasted. The moment the door opened, the smile on my face completely froze. Dominic was half-collapsed on a beautiful woman. And this woman… I had seen her in the media photos taken the day Eleanor returned to the country. Dominic’s fiancée—Isabelle Reed. “Hi, you must be Seraphina Vance. Dominic is drunk. I brought him home.” Her eyes were kind as she looked at me. Different from what I imagined, Isabelle Reed seemed to know everything about me and Dominic. I managed a forced smile, took him from her, and put him on the sofa. Isabelle didn’t leave. She looked around the penthouse, smiled, and asked, “Can I have a glass of water?” I walked to the kitchen island without a word. Her casual chatter followed me. “I heard that while I was abroad, you were the one taking care of Dominic. Thank you.” “I’ve seen your movies. It’s really not easy for a woman without a background to make it in Hollywood.” “Eleanor mentioned it. She said she wanted to meet you at the Sterling family dinner soon. Did Dominic mention it to you?” The hand pouring the water froze mid-air. I turned around and calmly met Isabelle’s eyes. In her gaze, there was no mockery of my hidden status, and no arrogance about her own background. The only thing there was the sheer confidence that belonged to the true, future Mrs. Sterling. The kind of confidence I could never feel, no matter how long I stayed by Dominic’s side. In that moment, the massive stone hanging in my heart finally crushed down. I knew, without a doubt, it was time for me to go. That night, after Dominic fell asleep, I packed up my belongings. Because I always suspected this day would come, I didn’t have much in Dominic’s apartment. I left all the expensive jewelry Dominic had given me. I only took one woven rope bracelet. Dominic and I had gotten them together years ago at a spiritual retreat. We each have one. It was a wish for safety and happiness. I had been trying to think of how to say goodbye with dignity, in person. But perhaps, an in-person goodbye wasn’t necessary. On the gray silk sheets, Dominic’s face was still as breathtaking as the first day I met him. He always thought he chased me. He didn’t know that I fell in love at first sight, too. My heart was filled with bitterness and sadness. I sent him one last message on his phone: [I’m gone. Don’t look for me. Have a nice life.] Before I left, I blocked his number. Dominic Sterling, I hope your life is safe and happy… 5 Avery and I have been living in Melbourne for three years now. We both gave birth to healthy babies. Avery’s son is named Leo, and my daughter is named Maya. When Leo and Maya turned three, Avery started a social media account showing off the kids, but without showing her own face. I opened a high-end bar in Melbourne. Life was great. We had money and free time, and my bar had plenty of hot young bartenders to look at. Until one day, a comment appeared on one of Avery’s videos. [Is it just me, or does this little kid Leo look a lot like Oscar-winning actor Ethan Cole?] Since Ethan had posted childhood photos of himself online before. As soon as this was said, netizens immediately dug up old photos for comparison. Without comparing, you wouldn’t know. Once you compared, it was a total shock. You couldn’t even say they looked alike. They were identical! Leo became an overnight viral sensation! A ton of people started tagging Ethan Cole on Twitter, joking about it. Netizens also asked Avery: [Who’s the dad?] Avery gave a sarcastic reply: [He doesn’t have a dad. Self-cloning.] Seeing netizens questioning if she was a mistress and if the child was illegitimate, she just got sarcastic again. [If you knew who his dad was, you’d think I was incredibly unlucky.] However, the very next second after she posted that, an account named Ethan Cole replied below. [Are you sure about that? Avery Vance.] The account name was Ethan Cole. The profile picture was Ethan Cole. Most importantly, he directly called her Avery Vance. Saying this was just a crazed Ethan Cole fan was a stretch. So Avery was terrified and immediately deleted all her replies and set her account to only allow friends to comment. That night, she came to my bar to complain, terrified that Ethan would find her and take Leo’s custody away. I told her to stay calm. Australia is a massive country. Even if that person really was Ethan Cole, he couldn’t find her exact address just from a few viral TikToks. Seeing her still worrying herself sick, I suggested taking her out to clear her head the next day.

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1 After three years abroad, I finished my studies just before the holidays. I chartered an overnight flight home to surprise my parents. Instead of calling them, I dragged my suitcase, eager to see their faces. But when I reached my old home, I froze. The grand villa was gone—replaced by a shabby mud shack, its windows patched with paper. The swimming pool had become a smelly pigsty, and our champion Golden Retriever was now a scruffy, flea-covered mutt. For a moment, I thought I’d taken a wrong turn. Then Mom appeared, tanned and carrying pig feed on her shoulder. She stared at me. “Well, look who’s back!” I rushed to ask why she hadn’t told me we’d gone bankrupt. She gave me a blank look. “Studying abroad made you daft, did it? Bankrupt? When were we ever rich?” “Your dad earns barely three dollars for a hundred pounds of pig feed! A year’s work only brings in three thousand! Now that you’re home, you better help, or we’ll starve this holiday!” My jaw dropped. If we’d always been poor, then who bought me all those limited-edition luxury goods? … “What happened to our villa that used to be here? And the swimming pool? And Buster? Our big Golden Retriever!” I’d video-chatted with Mom just a few days ago, and Buster had been right there by her feet! Mom flinched, then spat right on my face. “Villa? Swimming pool? Golden Retriever? Your father’s always been a pathetic excuse for a man. Marrying him was the worst mistake of my life; I’ll never amount to anything!” “And you—” Mom’s eyes raked over me, then she rolled them. “Dressed to the nines, looking like you’re too good for us just because you’ve seen a bit of the world?” “You’ll still end up shoveling pig waste with me!” I stood there, completely numb. My home was gone, and Mom… she was a stranger. My mother, famous in the socialite circles for her impeccable cleanliness and demanding tastes, who insisted everything she touched be screened and disinfected by her staff, was now unrecognizable. Where was the elegant, refined woman I remembered? Had the shock of losing everything caused her to have a breakdown? It couldn’t be! Just as I was about to call Dad to get to the bottom of this, a worn-out middle-aged man hobbled out of the mud shack. His face was identical to Dad’s, but ravaged by time and hardship. “Dad, you’ve changed too—” My gaze dropped, and the words caught in my throat. His right leg was gone, just an empty space below the knee. Dad had been golfing with friends last week when we video-chatted. How could he have ended up like this? Trembling, I knelt and pulled up his pant leg. Gnarly scars crisscrossed his thigh, ending in a distinct amputation site. My voice was barely a whisper. “Dad, what happened to us?” A thousand possibilities flashed through my mind. Our family business was vast; had some formidable enemy driven us to this desperate state? Mom slapped me across the face. “You come home and start asking all these ridiculous questions! Your father’s been a good-for-nothing his whole life. Ten years ago, he got his leg cut off for stealing pork fat and didn’t even dare utter a word!” My face stung, but I felt no pain. Mom had never laid a hand on me since the day I was born! Something was definitely wrong here! I quickly pulled out a video of us surfing at the beach last year. I pointed at the screen, showing it to Mom. “A year ago, Dad’s leg was perfectly fine—” Mom’s eyes flickered across the screen for just a second, then she exploded, pointing at me. “You slut! Wearing so little, trying to tempt your own father, are you?” “I sent you to school, worked myself ragged, and this is what you learn to bring home?” It was a swimsuit! She’d bought it for me herself! Had she forgotten? Mom was now a complete shrew! What on earth had happened to our family? Why had she become like this? Almost fleeing, I stumbled out of the house and turned into the convenience store across the street. There, I bumped into my younger brother, Caleb, his hair dyed bright yellow, arms draped around two gaudily dressed girls. Caleb stared at me, dumbfounded. “Elara? You’re back?” Like a drowning person finding a lifeline, I clutched at him. “Caleb, tell me, what happened to our family? Why are Mom and Dad like this?” But then, Caleb’s expression turned strange. A chill crept down my spine. He said, “Our family has always been like this.” “Have you been away so long you’ve forgotten, Elara?” He gestured vaguely towards our house. “That mud hut, Mom built it the year she got married. And that pigsty, Mom fenced it in. Even our three hundred dollar monthly income depends on Mom.” “And me, your brother. I never went to school, never learned to read. Not like you, who got to see the world after finishing high school!” For a moment, my mind reeled. What did he mean he never went to school or learned to read? And what was with that bitter, resentful tone? He had won the national math competition three years in a row by his freshman year of high school! During the awards ceremony, he’d even given me his trophy, saying it was a gift for me. I still had the award video on my phone. But now, when I opened my gallery, I couldn’t find it anywhere. Even the video I’d shown Mom just moments ago had vanished. I frantically tapped on my chat history with Mom and Dad, only to find their profile pictures grayed out. A creeping coldness slowly ascended my spine. I felt as if I’d stepped into the Truman Show. Why? Was there some catalyst? Or was it just our family that had changed this way? But I’d lived in that house for twenty-five years! And from the moment I stepped off the plane until now, I’d been perfectly lucid. Nothing unusual had happened on the way. I desperately replayed every moment in my mind, feeling like I’d missed something crucial. Suddenly, a message from my best friend popped up. “Elara, I’m almost there! I’ve got a surprise for you!” In an instant, my heart settled. My best friend, Maya, was the daughter of the wealthiest man in the city. We’d met seven years ago at a party thrown by our parents and instantly clicked. We even planned to go to college together, and we’d stayed in close contact even when I went abroad. As soon as I told her I was coming home, Maya declared she’d spend the holidays with me! As soon as she arrived, it would prove my memories were right! They were definitely up to something! Watching the shared location with Maya get closer and closer, my heart quickened. Then, I saw a tricycle approaching. Maya was on it, her clothes old and baggy. She dismounted clumsily. A bad feeling coiled in my stomach. Only when Maya stood before me, greeting me, did I notice how swollen she looked. I forced down the strange sensation in my chest, about to ask her, when Maya, looking slightly smug, lifted her shirt. Her enormous belly swayed precariously with her movements, covered in red veins and stretch marks. “Elara, look. I’m married.” “Quintuplets, four boys. Surprise?” My worldview shattered again. Maya, my best friend with whom I shared everything, was a staunch DINK (dual income, no kids). She’d never even gone to one of the arranged marriages her father tried to set up, always causing a huge fuss. She’d even gone on a hunger strike to make her father give up on the idea of her marrying. My legs felt like jelly. Dad was a pathetic man. Mom was a shrew. My brother was a yellow-haired hooligan. And now, my long-unseen best friend was pregnant with quadruplets. Everyone seemed to be moving in the opposite direction of my memories! It was all wrong, everything was reversed! I was absolutely certain now. I was in another world! I no longer cared why this was happening. All I wanted to do was one thing: I wanted to go home! But my hand was gripped tight. Maya’s strength was incredible, pulling my hand towards her pregnant belly. “Elara, where are you going? Didn’t we say we’d spend the holidays together?” “Don’t you want to see my babies? Didn’t you say you’d be their favorite aunt?” My fingertips trembled. When had I ever said that? But when my palm actually touched Maya’s belly, the babies inside seemed to sense it, kicking me gently. That kick shattered the last sliver of hope in my heart. It was real! I almost spun and ran, my legs so weak I could barely stand. Run away, just run away! It felt like I was the only anomaly in the world. I needed to go home! Seeing I was actually trying to flee, Mom’s face contorted with fury as she chased after me. I cried out in panic, “I’m not your daughter! You’ve got the wrong person!” “I’d recognize you even if you were ashes! You go out and see the world, and now you’re too good for us? Get back here! I’ll sell you to the old beggar by the village entrance!” My best friend, Maya, also called out to me, clutching her pregnant belly. “Elara! Didn’t we say we’d spend the holidays together? Why are you running? Come back!” I bit down hard on my tongue, forcing myself to stay clear-headed. Then, a sharp pain shot through the back of my head. My brother had caught up and struck me hard with a stick. As I lost consciousness, I saw a flicker of sorrow and reluctance in his eyes. He said, “Elara, just bear with it. We’re doing this for your own good.”

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