Category: English

I walked at six months—a proud story my parents told—until a car crash at age one changed everything. A firefighter said my swaddled body shielded Mom from a steel rebar. Losing a leg felt worth it if it saved her. When Mom said sadly, “It’s my fault, Alice,” I’d hug her and smile. “I love you. It doesn’t hurt.” Back then, it was just us, warm and close. Then Lily was born. She hated the attention my leg drew. She’d break my toys and blame me. Slowly, Mom’s eyes grew cold. Once, Lily accused me of throwing her teddy in the pond. Mom grabbed a cane and whipped me. “Stop bullying Lily!” I tried to run but couldn’t. “Get that bear now, or don’t come home!” “Mom, please,” I begged, “Grandma said the water’s dangerous.” Holding Lily, she sneered, “If you can’t get it, just die there.” I closed my eyes, jumped into the icy river, and remembered too late: a cripple in water can truly drown. The frigid river water rushed into my lungs instantly, and my soaked cotton clothes became incredibly heavy. Through my blurry vision, I saw the teddy bear lying still at the bottom. A pang of fear struck me; my instinct was to swim back to shore, but Mom’s words, “You can’t come home without the bear,” echoed like a curse in my mind. I wanted to go home, to be with Mom. So, enduring the intense pain of my lungs being crushed, I stretched out with all my might and finally clutched the teddy bear from the riverbed. “Mom, look. I found the bear.” I struggled desperately to swim towards the bank, but the clinging weeds, like countless icy hands, wrapped tightly around my left leg. In a haze, I heard Mom’s voice, so near, yet so far away: “Alice, why are you standing by the river all alone? You could die if you fall in!” Then came Lily’s soft voice: “Mommy, I’m waiting for big sister to get my bear.” “That useless brat, she’s taken so long to get it back, who knows where she’s playing. Look at you, your hands are freezing cold.” “Come home with Mommy, Mommy will bake you oranges.” My heart clenched, and I struggled frantically towards the surface. Mom, don’t leave, I’m still here! Suddenly, my body felt lighter. I burst out of the water, scrambling onto the ice, only to see Mom’s retreating back. She held Lily, walking straight towards home. Lily hugged Mom’s neck affectionately: “Mommy, I saw fish blowing bubbles just now!” Mom smiled, stroking Lily’s cheek: “Does Lily like fish? How about Daddy and Mommy take you to the aquarium tomorrow?” I tried to take a few steps to follow, but my disabled left leg gave way, and I fell heavily onto the ground. Mom, wait for me, I found Lily’s bear. Can you, please, take me to the aquarium too? The teddy bear tumbled from my embrace. I reached for it, but it slipped through my fingers again and again, skittering across the ice. Tears welled up in my eyes; I was so frustrated. Why couldn’t I pick it up? If I couldn’t get the bear, Mom would be upset. Just then, a man in a tall black hat appeared before me. He bent down, picked up the teddy bear, and gently placed it in my arms. “Alice, come with me.” I looked at the man in black, confused: “Sir, do you know me? I can’t go with you, Mom will worry.” The man in black frowned: “You are dead. You need to be reincarnated now. I’ve found you a good family, and if we’re too slow, you’ll miss your chance.” I’m dead? A huge sigh of relief escaped me. Mom, did you hear that? I’m not that useless brat. It’s because I died, that’s why I couldn’t pick up the bear. I turned my head, searching for Mom’s retreating figure, but behind me, everything was a boundless expanse of white. Mom had already gone far away. I tugged on the black-clad man’s sleeve, whispering a plea: “Sir, can I wait one more day?” “I want to go to the aquarium with Mom one last time.” The man in black hesitated for a moment, then nodded, letting out a soft sigh: “Alright, I’ll give you one more day. I’ll come personally to pick you up tomorrow.” “Thank you, sir!” Clutching the teddy bear, I ran back home without looking back. Oh, joy, Mom. I can go to the aquarium with you now. When I was five, my classmates teased me because I couldn’t walk properly. I cried all the way home, and Dad and Mom took me to the aquarium. Dad carried me on his shoulders, pointing at the gracefully dancing mermaids behind the glass. “Look, Alice,” he said, “mermaids don’t have legs, do they? You’re the little mermaid gifted to Mom and me by the heavens.” “Your legs will turn into a beautiful tail one day, which is why you can’t walk properly for now.” I was so happy. Every day after that, I’d ask Mom when she could take me to the aquarium again. But after Lily was born, Mom always said it was inconvenient to take me out, and I never went to the aquarium again. I knew Mom wasn’t unwilling to take me out. She blamed me for my lame leg, that I was just a burden to them. I returned home to find Dad, Mom, and Lily sitting around the dinner table. On the table was my favorite sweet and sour pork ribs. “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” Dad picked up a rib for Lily, anxiously glancing outside: “Where did Alice run off to? It’s dinner time, and she’s still not back.” “She probably went off playing again. Even with her bad leg, she loves to run around so much.” Mom, I didn’t run wild. I went to get Lily’s bear back for her. Oh, I forgot. I’m dead. Mom can’t see me. Dad put down his chopsticks and looked at Mom, a hint of reproach in his voice: “Alice’s leg isn’t her fault, it’s ours. Why are you so hard on her?” Mom slammed her bowl onto the table, startling Lily into loud sobs. “My fault?! If you hadn’t been fooling around…” I desperately wanted to wipe away the tears welling in Mom’s eyes. But I forgot, I was dead, and there was nothing I could do. Dad comforted Lily, sighing: “Alright, alright! Is this something to be proud of? Let’s just eat.” Mom’s phone rang; it was Grandma! Lily sweetly said into the camera, “Happy New Year, Grandma!” Grandma smiled broadly: “Lily is such a good girl. Where’s your sister? Why isn’t she eating with you?” Mom picked up Lily and aimed the camera at her own face: “That brat, who knows where she’s been. When she gets back, I’m definitely going to give her a good talking to.” Grandma coughed twice, then sighed: “Since it’s the New Year, why don’t you send Alice to stay with me for a couple of days? You and David (Dad’s name) have a lot of pressure too.” I murmured to myself, Grandma’s house had my cousin who always played with me; I loved going to Grandma’s the most. “Alice is also the child you carried for ten months. You should talk to her gently…” Mom pursed her lips, interrupting Grandma: “She’s nothing but trouble, a curse. All these years, she’s inconvenienced me and her dad enough, and she’s dragged Lily down with her, getting her discriminated against and bullied.” I knew Mom was talking about the time I got into a fight at school. I opened my mouth to explain, but tears wouldn’t stop falling first, so I quickly covered my mouth with my hand. Mom said she didn’t like crying children. But Mom, it really wasn’t me who caused Lily to be bullied. Dad had said he had to work late and asked me to pick Lily up from school. But Lily’s classmates saw I was a cripple and surrounded us, spitting at me and Lily: “The lame sister is here to pick up the lame sister!” They laughed at me for being a cripple, and I didn’t get angry, but they couldn’t bully Lily. Mom said I was the older sister, I had to protect my sister. I charged forward, headbutting the strongest little chubby kid, then sat on him, hitting him left and right: “Don’t you dare bully my sister! My sister isn’t a cripple, apologize to her!” A group of them pushed me to the ground, and the chubby kid kicked me in the stomach, but I didn’t feel any pain at all. I pushed Lily away, turned my head, and shouted at her: “Lily, run!” Lily ran, and she called Mom. I held my head high, like a proud little peacock. I had protected my sister, Mom must be here to praise me. But what greeted me was Mom’s fierce slap. “I work myself to the bone to send you to school, and you come here to fight people!” “Do you have any respect for me and your father?” I turned my head away from the blow, wiping away my tears, full of injustice: “They were bullying Lily, that’s why I fought them.” The teacher came out then and pulled Mom away: “Alice’s Mom, when the school staff arrived, it was indeed Alice who was getting beaten.” Mom looked at me suspiciously, then Lily suddenly spoke up: “No, it wasn’t like that at all. Sister was the one who rushed up and started hitting first. They were just playing a game with me.” No, it wasn’t like that, not at all. I looked at Lily in disbelief, not understanding why she would say such a thing. Mom, after hearing Lily’s words, twisted my ear and took me home. All the way home, the scrutinizing gazes of the students felt more painful than any wound. When we got home, Mom snapped two canes asking me why I had lied. I lay on the floor, dizzy, clutching my stomach, but I couldn’t lie. I could only explain over and over again: “I fought to protect Lily.” From then on, to avoid Lily being implicated, Mom never let me go to school again. I didn’t blame Mom; it was my fault, this little cripple, for burdening her again. The news report on TV jolted me back to reality. “Breaking news: A female body has been recovered from the artificial lake in the city center. Preliminary identification indicates the age of approximately nine years old.” I pointed at the familiar shadow on the TV, my eyes instantly hot, and I yelled at Mom: “Mom! That’s me, I’m dead!”

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In my past life, my twin sister was adopted by a wealthy family, while I was taken home to be a child bride. Later, my sister jumped from a high-rise building, while I bloomed from the darkness. My sister smiled and said: “Sister, if it were you, you wouldn’t have let your life become such a mess, right?” Reborn into a new life, my sister and I switched fates. I am the dazzling sun shining in the day, and my sister is the evil spirit crawling in the dark night. We never looked back, taking turns moving forward. 01 I was reborn to the day my sister was adopted when we were five years old. This time, my clever and lively sister acted completely devoid of manners, even shouting that she was going to be a rich person, causing Mrs. Sterling to frown and choose me, who was quiet and steady. My sister and I exchanged a glance, and I saw the sly smile in her eyes. I knew my sister had also been reborn. My sister and I are fraternal twins. In our previous life, my sister was chosen by the Sterling family, a wealthy family in New York. When she left, she looked at me with wide eyes and said, “Sister, I will come back for you.” But I never saw my sister again. I was adopted by an ordinary family because their son was intellectually disabled, and they wanted to raise me to marry him when I grew up. I grew up amidst beatings and curses. I studied desperately, telling them that I had a great future and would bring them more benefits. Through bullying and humiliation, I got into a top university and later passed the civil service exam. My sister, who had entered the wealthy family, became notorious and jumped from a high-rise building. Before she died, my sister sent me a message: “I’m so unwilling to accept this. If you had been adopted by the Sterling family, sister, you wouldn’t have ended up like this.” Two minutes later, there was an extra five million dollars in my bank account. That was the inheritance my sister left me. Unfortunately, before I could enjoy the inheritance my sister left me, I was stabbed to death a few days later by my adoptive parents’ intellectually disabled son who suddenly rushed out. When I regained consciousness, I was back to when I was five years old. 02 I went to the Sterling family, changed my name to Ava Sterling, had my own room, parents, and a brother named Liam Sterling. The first day I ate at the Sterling family, I accidentally broke a bowl. I was already mentally prepared to be beaten. The expected beating and scolding didn’t come. Instead, I received concern, asking if I had cut my hand. For the first time, I learned that breaking a bowl doesn’t mean getting beaten. The new home had everything. Dad was rarely home, and Mom didn’t pay much attention to me. The servants did the chores, and a nanny played with me and Liam. If my sister’s death hadn’t reminded me, I almost would have drowned in this luxurious happiness. Liam was in poor health. A fortune teller told Mr. and Mrs. Sterling to adopt a girl from the orphanage to be his sister, and his health would improve and everything would go smoothly. So that was the reason the Sterling family adopted an orphan. Liam spoke little and seemed a bit gloomy. I wasn’t an extrovert either, so we weren’t close. Strictly speaking, I was like an outsider living in the Sterling family, but I enjoyed the best of everything, and I was very grateful. By the time we were in middle school, Liam’s health had improved greatly, and his personality had also changed a bit. We were in the same school but acted like strangers. No one knew our relationship. I lacked nothing, but I had no money. I ate and lived at home, and I hadn’t found a chance to go back to the small town to see my sister. It wasn’t until high school that I realized the malice I encountered in this life was different from the malice I experienced in the town in my previous life. The malice in middle school and high school were also different. The malice I encountered in this life was more arrogant, opaque, like madness surging under a dark current. The similarity was that both were deadly. But, I finally had a chance to go see my sister. 03 “Don’t think that just because you have good grades, Liam will like you. How could a nerd like you ever get his affection?” “Who are you putting on this aloof act for? Everyone knows you’re secretly hooking up with Liam! Slut!” A few girls cornered me in the restroom, pulling my hair, warning me not to have any more interactions with Liam. I pulled my hair back and stated calmly: “Liam is my brother. We live under the same roof.” They were stunned. Although my last name was also Sterling, Liam and I didn’t look like siblings at all. I continued: “Since I was little, my grades have always been good. My parents love me very much. I don’t want to be gossiped about; I just want to study hard, so I pretend not to know my brother at school.” “My brother doesn’t like people who bully others, and my parents like it even less. If you don’t believe me, you can check for yourselves.” I walked out of the girls’ restroom unharmed. However, during the lunch break that day, I was called over by one of Liam’s lackeys. Liam asked me impatiently: “Why did you tell others about our relationship?” “Because your presence makes people bully me. Your admirers think I like you.” A playful light flashed in Liam’s eyes, and his expression was slightly mocking, as if saying, Don’t you like me? I looked straight into Liam’s eyes and said lightly: “I also don’t want the person I like to misunderstand.” Liam’s expression changed slightly, then he chuckled: “The person you like? Who?” I looked serious and said firmly: “Ethan.” Liam’s face grew even uglier, and at that moment, a low laugh suddenly came from behind. “What does Ava like about me? I’m truly flattered.” 04 Ethan was Liam’s good friend, and in my previous life, he was also my sister’s closest companion. When I was ostracized and isolated in school, Ethan appeared by my side like the warm spring sun and the gentle summer evening breeze. Then I understood why my sister was desperate enough to jump off a building in the end. My sister was lively, straightforward, and easy to connect with, which in other words meant she was easier to deceive. When my sister died, her identity was that of a mistress kept by Ethan. The day before she jumped was the exact day Ethan got married. They said my sister was never content. After entering the Sterling family, she was too ambitious. She tried her best to please Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, and later she was even bold enough to try and hook up with the young master of the Sterling family. After being thrown out of the room by him, the Sterling family was utterly disgusted with her. Yet she still dreamed of marrying into a wealthy family, so she climbed into the bed of Liam’s childhood friend, Ethan. She was with Ethan for three years, originally thinking she could become his official girlfriend. Unfortunately, her dream of joining a wealthy family shattered again, so unable to bear the shock, she jumped off a building. Those who play with genuine feelings must be prepared to be played by others one day. Liam’s angry voice brought me back to my senses. “How old are you? Do you even know what liking someone means? Focus on your studies! If you dare date early, I’ll break your legs.” “Liam is so domineering, don’t scare our little Ava.” I sneaked a peek at Ethan and blushed. Liam walked away with a sour face. After I made my relationship with Liam public, Liam didn’t deny it. The malice and exclusion that surrounded me seemed to vanish. 05 In high school, with living expenses, living in the dorms, and having some freedom, I took a day off to find my sister. I found her in an alley near the county high school. She was holding an iron rod, had blood on her face, and her foot was stepping on a boy’s back. She looked like a complete delinquent. Next to her squatted two other boys holding their heads. “Looking very impressive, Chloe.” Hearing my voice, my sister froze for a moment, then turned around, glared at me, and cursed viciously: “Where did this nosy person come from? Get lost!” I stood there without speaking. My sister kicked the boy under her foot, told them to scram, then sat on the ground, pulled out a cigarette, and put it in her mouth. She said sarcastically: “Oh, isn’t this my sister who entered a wealthy family? What made you think of your poor sister?” “Are you here to give me money? Hand it over then!” I looked at the three guys leaving and couldn’t help clenching my fists. Those three were the ones who bullied me in high school. In middle school, girls with slightly more developed chests were called “cows,” and those who were a bit chubby were called “tanks.” That shameful nickname, “cow,” was given to me by those guys and stayed with me throughout high school. Seeing me stay silent, my sister glared at me impatiently. “Can’t you understand human language? If you don’t have money, get lost!” I walked over, took the cigarette from her mouth, and threw it away. I then took out the living expenses I had saved up in my pocket, kept a little for myself, and gave the rest to her. My sister quickly took the money. “At least you have a conscience. Come see me more often, but don’t come if you don’t bring money!” Instead, I lunged forward and hugged my sister tightly. I asked her in a low voice: “Are you in high school? Don’t you want to be a star?” “Go take the art exams. Study hard in high school. The academic requirements aren’t that high. Whatever you want to learn, I have money, I’ll give it to you.” I felt my sister’s body stiffen, then she whispered back: “I’m in school. The idiot died, so the family can only rely on me now. If they didn’t let me go to school, I would have caused a huge scene.” “What to learn? I’ve learned everything. With my looks, I’ll definitely be a shining big star.” The idiot died? I looked at my sister in disbelief. She casually flipped her hair: “Died in an accident.” 06 “Alright, you’ve given me the money, now leave quickly. Don’t bother me!” My sister suddenly pushed me away, looking impatient. I wanted to ask her about her past life, but she had already walked away swinging the iron rod. And behind me, a cold voice suddenly sounded. It was Liam! “You went through all this trouble just to see a piece of trash like that?” I turned around, feeling cold all over. Liam was actually stalking me! I showed an embarrassed expression and lowered my head: “She is my sister.” “Your sister just treats you like a free ATM. Ava, are you really that useless? You gave her your own living expenses?” Liam said arrogantly: “Today is only Tuesday. Don’t expect me to help you out.” Me: “I’m dieting.” Liam looked at me, seemingly amused by his anger. I turned around and walked outside to wait for the bus back to school. Liam stood next to me, and I couldn’t help but ask: “Brother, are you worried about me?” Liam snorted coldly: “I just came to see if you were doing anything behind my back to wrong the Sterling family. You eat our food, live in our house. If you dare to embarrass us, I won’t let you off easily.” I looked up at him with a sincere smile: “Brother, if you’re worried about me, just say it. A brother worrying about his sister isn’t embarrassing.” Liam’s ears suddenly turned red. He pursed his lips and said nothing, but my heart was completely calm. My sister was right. If she and I switched places, we would both live very exciting lives. She could fight back against all the bullying on the spot, picking up an iron rod and smashing it down hard, and she could also make sure her adoptive parents couldn’t control her. And I could also become an existence that made the Sterling family look at me with new eyes, making everyone like me. We will eventually reunite at the very top. 07 After Thursday’s evening self-study, Liam and Ethan came to find me, insisting on having a late-night snack, so I didn’t find a chance to sneak out alone. Actually, this day was mine and my sister’s birthday. After returning to the dorm, the school gates were already locked. I struggled to climb over the wall and unluckily ran into Ethan. Ethan and I sat side-by-side on the school wall. He looked at me with interest: “Where are you sneaking off to so late?” I stammered and couldn’t say it. Ethan leaned closer and said very ambiguously: “Did you know I was here, so you came to meet me?” “Unfortunately, your brother is about to come out. How about I take you away first, and we can go have fun.” I blushed and whispered: “I wanted to go buy… buy that.” When I said buy that, Ethan understood. He coughed unnaturally, then said: “Aren’t you uncomfortable right now? Let me buy it for you.” I shook my head, “No need, I’ll buy it myself.” Saying that, I was about to jump down. Ethan jumped down first and opened his arms to me: “Come down, I’ll catch you.” I jumped down and landed in a steady embrace. Ethan pulled me along. “Hurry, don’t let your brother find out. He’s been really jealous lately and always targets me.” I let Ethan pull me along, and we brushed past a girl standing at the school gate. She was holding a bouquet of white camellias in her hand, and neither of us looked at each other. After buying my things, I went to a bakery and bought two small cakes, paying for them before Ethan could. Then we went into a bookstore next door. Ethan shook his head: “What kind of person goes to a bookstore when they’re out to have fun? Little Ava, you really don’t know how to be romantic!” I took out a small cake, scooped up a spoonful, and offered it to Ethan’s mouth. He was stunned for a moment, then smiled radiantly, opened his mouth, and ate the cake I fed him. “So sweet.” I placed the other small cake on a bookshelf, then pulled Ethan and ran back. When we reached the school gate, there was a bouquet of white camellias on the ground. I crouched down and picked it up. At the same time, a girl took a small cake from a shelf in the bookstore. 08 During my three years of high school, I studied like my life depended on it, utilizing every resource I could. After all, being in an international high school, I was surrounded by the best and brightest. These people would be valuable connections in the future, so I had to be outstanding enough to make them respect me. After the college entrance exams, Ethan confessed his feelings to me amidst a bustling crowd. When I turned my head, I met Liam’s obscure and hard-to-read gaze. He was looking at me too. I had seen that look in his eyes countless times over the past two years. I smiled sweetly and walked toward Ethan: “Hello, boyfriend.” That night, Liam pinned me against the wall in my room and interrogated me with red eyes: “What’s so good about Ethan? Do you really like him that much?” “I don’t believe you don’t know how I feel! Have you forgotten who highlighted your notes day and night and helped you guess exam questions?” In my past life, did my sister also break into his room and confess her feelings like this? What did he say then? “Are you really that cheap? Calling me brother isn’t enough, you also want to be the mistress of the Sterling family?” “Remember your place! You’re just a dog raised by the Sterling family.” I tilted my head, looking at Liam with confusion but firmness: “But, you are my brother.” “Mom and Dad raised me and worked hard to cultivate me. How could I bite the hand that feeds me?” Liam’s eyes flashed with restraint, and he whispered: “I’ll figure something out with Mom and Dad. They like you a lot too.” “I’m sorry, brother. You are a very important family member to me, but the person I like has always been Ethan.” 09 In this life, I became the top scorer in science for the provincial college entrance exam. Liam also did very well, but unfortunately, it seemed I stole all the thunder. The Sterling family hosted a celebration banquet for us, and everyone was very curious about me. I behaved obediently, sensibly, and elegantly, earning a lot of face for the Sterling family. Many people approached with intentions of arranged marriages, but Mr. and Mrs. Sterling tactfully declined them all. The Ethan family immediately claimed me, saying Ethan and I were already together. Others smiled and congratulated Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, saying the Ethan and Sterling families were already close, and now with this marriage tie, others would only be left with scraps. I smiled at Ethan, getting lost in his tender and affectionate eyes, remembering something my sister had said. She said, “Sister, I really did love him.” Being intentionally flirted with by a golden boy like Liam, boldly confessing, being humiliated, and feeling heartbroken and sad—Ethan was like a ray of light shining into her heart. He was always so gentle, so attentive. With those beautiful peach blossom eyes, he looked deeply affectionate even when looking at a dog. He was extremely patient. But after three years of dating, he smiled and said he was bored, handed my sister a card, and told her to leave. After Ethan got married, the Sterling family felt they had raised my sister for nothing and made a loss, so they made her accompany a difficult client. That client was a sixty-year-old man with sadistic tendencies. My sister told me this with a smile. She said she had lived for over twenty years, and there wasn’t a single person around her who truly cared for her. No one noticed that since middle school, she had always hurt herself, time and time again, just to hold on until she was twenty-four. For the past few years, we would meet at a certain bookstore during holidays. My sister wore a baseball cap and a mask, and we sat back-to-back, slowly recounting the years we had missed in each other’s lives. Because other people’s parents said holidays were for family reunions, in this life, we made sure to find a way to meet on every holiday.

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On my birthday, Ethan proposed to me. But the moment he pulled out the ring, Chloe snatched it from his hands and slipped it onto her own finger. Ethan just smiled, looking at her with absolute adoration. “Chloe is always so playful.” The room went dead silent. Everyone was waiting for my reaction—the actual girlfriend. They expected a screaming match, a hair-pulling reality TV catfight. Instead, I casually popped a party popper. As confetti rained down on them, I smiled and offered my congratulations. “A match made in heaven. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.” 1 Ethan stared at me through the falling confetti. Chloe happily wrapped her arms around his neck, acting like a spoiled child. “I love this ring! I want it.” It was as if Ethan had suddenly snapped out of a trance. He finally seemed to remember that this was my birthday party. He pulled Chloe’s hands off his neck and nervously tried to explain. “Chloe’s just messing around.” The guests were all mutual friends of mine and Ethan’s. They quickly tried to laugh it off and ease the tension. “Tonight’s your special night! Don’t let irrelevant people ruin your mood.” Irrelevant? I looked at Chloe standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Ethan. They were childhood sweethearts. The golden boy and the perfect girl. She raised her hand, deliberately showing off the ring on her middle finger. The fit was absolutely perfect. It was a silent declaration: I was the irrelevant one here. I raised an eyebrow, locking eyes with Ethan. “Since the ring is already on, shouldn’t you guys head straight to the honeymoon suite?” Ethan’s face instantly darkened. He took a long stride toward me. “Mia, Chloe was just curious and wanted to try it on. Could you please be a little more generous?” “We grew up together. She’s practically still a child at heart. Are you seriously going to hold a grudge against a kid?” The expressions on everyone’s faces turned painfully awkward. Chloe wasn’t six. She wasn’t sixteen. She was a twenty-six-year-old woman! Calling her a “child” implied everyone else in the room was blind. Chloe slid the ring off her finger. “Ethan, how could you say that to Mia? She’s not holding a grudge against me. Mia, here’s your ring back. Happy birthday.” She casually tossed the ring toward me. The small, diamond-encrusted band hit the floor and rolled, stopping right at the toe of my shoe. The atmosphere in the room turned suffocatingly weird. The entire situation was baffling. I was the one who had just been deeply humiliated, yet Ethan was fiercely protecting Chloe, even yelling at me in front of all our friends. Ethan glared at me, his eyes icy, trying to intimidate me into submission. It felt like a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over my head. I was instantly, terrifyingly sober. In the past, a situation like this would have made me lose my mind. I would have launched myself at Chloe and torn her apart. I would have had a screaming match with Ethan, leading to a massive cold war. Then, he would use that as a perfectly valid excuse to disappear for days, completely ignoring my calls and texts, until I finally swallowed my pride, apologized, and begged him to come back. That was how he had systematically trained me over the years. I had bowed my head so many times that he no longer even factored my feelings into his decisions. After all, in a relationship, whoever falls first… Loses. 2 Ethan and Chloe grew up in the same affluent, tight-knit neighborhood. Chloe was naturally chaotic and loved causing trouble. But in Ethan’s eyes, she was as pure and innocent as a child. He willingly, tirelessly cleaned up every single one of her messes. During college, even though they never officially announced they were dating, everyone assumed they were a package deal. So, when Ethan suddenly showed up with a massive bouquet of red roses and asked me to be his girlfriend… I was completely stunned. I thought it was a prank. A dare from a frat party. Or maybe I was just hallucinating. But I was so desperately in love with Ethan that even if it was a dream, I was more than willing to dive in. And reality seemed to reward my devotion. Ethan actually became my boyfriend. I got to hold his hand secretly under the table in the library. We went on dates to cute coffee shops. On every major holiday, I got to spend it with him. But there was a catch: I had to initiate every single one of those things. I rationalized it. I told myself it was his first real relationship and he just didn’t know how to take care of someone. Until I saw with my own eyes exactly how he took care of Chloe. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it. It was just that the person receiving his meticulous, unwavering devotion… wasn’t me. 3 The candles on my birthday cake were lit. My friends urged me to make a wish quickly. I snapped out of my daze and blew out all the candles without closing my eyes. Seeing this, Ethan frowned impatiently. “Mia, what kind of tantrum is this now? Don’t think that just because it’s your birthday I’m going to let you act like a brat!” I gripped the edge of the table and stood up. “Fine. Then I’ll let you have the floor.” I walked around the table, completely ignoring Ethan’s furious, dark expression, and walked straight out of the private room. As the door was closing behind me, I heard Chloe’s signature, dramatic voice: “Oh no… it’s Mia’s birthday after all. It’s really bad that we made the birthday girl leave so angry, isn’t it? Should I go apologize to her?” Ethan fought back his annoyance, his tone instantly shifting to a gentle, comforting murmur. “If she wants to leave, let her leave. No one is going to tolerate her terrible temper. Come on, let’s just enjoy the party!” A single, heavy door separated us. Inside the room was the roar of a party. Outside the door was absolute, suffocating isolation. Ethan had never, ever spoken to me with that kind of gentleness. He had never, not once, publicly taken my side or defended me in front of others. They always did this. Right in front of my face, under the guise of “just being childhood friends,” they did everything a romantic couple would do. Chloe was terrible with directions, so he would happily drive an hour out of his way to pick her up from work. When Chloe made a massive mistake on a project and got fired, he immediately hired her to be his personal assistant. The passenger seat of his car practically had her name permanently etched into it. Any free time he had, the moment she called, he was there. Whenever I felt my boundaries were being violated and got angry, he would tell me, “We are the ones building a life together. Chloe is just a kid. Don’t be so petty and jealous.” But every time I saw another one of Chloe’s things left in our apartment, a deep, sickening panic would gnaw at me. Until tonight. When Ethan stood by and allowed Chloe to slip on the engagement ring meant for me. He finally turned me into a complete, undeniable joke. Ethan took the love I had for him and forged it into a blade, driving it straight into my chest. I pulled out my phone to order an Uber. A notification popped up. A friend inside the room had texted me a photo. It was Chloe, looking slightly flushed from the alcohol, comfortably nestled in Ethan’s arms. “Mia, Ethan is going way too far. Does he even remember he’s your boyfriend?” Did he remember? He probably did. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be just innocently holding her while she was drunk. He would be carrying her out of there, finding a quiet, empty room, and having his way with her… A cold night wind swept down the street, blowing dust into my eyes. My eyes stung and watered, and I rubbed them aggressively. But I realized… I wasn’t crying. My heart wasn’t aching with that familiar, suffocating pain anymore. It felt like the world had finally gone quiet. So this is what it feels like when you finally stop loving someone. 4 By the time I got home and finished washing up, it was past midnight. Ethan hadn’t texted me once. For the first time, I didn’t send him the usual barrage of texts demanding to know when he was coming home. Instead, I opened a message from my manager, Sarah. “Mia, are you seriously not going to consider the overseas posting? It’s a massive learning opportunity provided by corporate. It’s incredibly rare! It’s only for three years. Is your relationship with your boyfriend really so fragile it can’t survive three years?” Sarah was my senior from college and my current boss. The company had an upcoming opening for an international posting—a fast-track program for future executives—and she had highly recommended me for it. I had politely declined, using my poor English as an excuse. But she saw right through me. She knew I was completely blinded by love. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Ethan alone in the States. When I graduated college, my advisor asked our class what our ultimate goals were. My classmates shouted about making six figures, buying houses and sports cars, starting their own companies… I just squeezed Ethan’s hand tightly and said with absolute sincerity: “I want to build a home with Ethan!” Later, we did buy an apartment together. But I couldn’t even manage to get him to come home to it. I typed and deleted sentences in the chat box. Before I could hit send, Sarah called me. “Mia, I truly believe in your potential. You do this three-year stint, and when you come back, you’ll walk straight into upper management. Plus, you’ll be going with an entire team. You won’t be out there fighting alone.” “Sarah… let me think about it a little more.” Hearing the hesitation in my voice, Sarah’s tone instantly brightened. “Great! While you’re thinking it over, I highly suggest you start preparing. Brush up on your English. The deployment isn’t until next month, you have plenty of time.” I had absolutely no natural talent for English. Back in school, no matter how hard I studied, I barely scraped by with passing grades. As for conversational speaking… back then, Ethan used to help me. Now, I had to rely entirely on myself. All the English books in the apartment were ones I had bought for Ethan. I knew this place inside and out. Without even looking, I grabbed the exact textbook I needed from the shelf. I used to naively believe I knew Ethan just as well. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. He was currently drowning in the affection of his true love. Why would he need me to care about him? I read for a while until my eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. I was half-asleep when I heard the sound of keys turning in the lock, followed by heavy footsteps. Ethan was home. “Mia.” He called my name from the living room a few times, then pushed the bedroom door open. Seeing me in bed, his tone immediately turned displeased. “Mia!” I furrowed my brow, rubbed my eyes, and sat up. “You’re back?” He froze. Usually, if he came home this late, I would be sitting rigidly on the living room sofa waiting for him. Then, I would interrogate him endlessly about exactly what he had been doing, accuse him of having an inappropriate relationship with Chloe, and it would escalate into a massive, screaming fight. This was the first time things hadn’t gone exactly according to his script. His face was dark as a thundercloud. I adjusted my blanket. “Go take a shower and get to bed. It’s late.” “After you left, Chloe got drunk, so I had to drive her home. Then…” “Oh.” I didn’t wait for him to finish his excuse. I lay back down and pulled the covers up. He took a step closer to the bed. The sharp scent of alcohol mixed with expensive women’s perfume invaded my nose. “What happened with the ring… she took it too far. I’ll make it up to you another day…” “She just acts like a kid. She likes to play around.” I reached a hand out from under the covers and waved the air in front of my face. “Just go shower. I’m exhausted.” “Mia, what exactly is your endgame here?” He was suppressing his anger, his voice low and tight. I opened my eyes, looking at him with genuine confusion. “What do you mean?” “You…” For once, he was completely speechless. In the past, whenever I questioned him, he would just get annoyed and tell me to shut up. I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself. “Stop overthinking it. We both have work tomorrow.” With that, I closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep. He stood silently by the bed for a few minutes before finally turning and walking out. He slammed the bedroom door behind him with absolutely zero hesitation, venting his frustration. I knew he was angry, and I knew exactly why. He had actually lowered his pride to offer a rare, half-assed explanation, and I completely ignored it. So he threw a tantrum. He actually thought I would jump out of bed and go chase after him to comfort him, just like I always used to.

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Ever since Madeline came crawling back to the family after her affair, I’ve made it a ritual. Every single day, I post. Is infidelity an addiction? How much of a rush is the betrayal, really? After the act, does a woman feel more guilt toward her child or her lover? I tag her university in every single post. I make sure the algorithm does its job, pushing my words directly into the feeds of her students, her colleagues, and most importantly, her lover. Everyone tells me to stop. They tell me it’s “undignified,” that I should be the “bigger person,” the “gracious husband.” Madeline was the only one who defended me at first. She’d shield me from their judgment, her voice soft and martyred: “I’m the one who did wrong. Let Silas vent. He has every right to his anger.” That lasted until the ninety-ninth post. Madeline burst through the door like a hurricane, eyes bloodshot, and smashed my laptop against the hardwood floor. “Silas, for God’s sake, enough! I’m back, aren’t I? I’m here! What more do you want from me?” she screamed, her voice cracking. “How much longer are you going to torture me before you’re satisfied?” I didn’t give her an answer. I didn’t even look up. I just finished drying the last of the dinner plates, set it gently in the rack, and turned to her with a calm, practiced smile. “Are you hungry? I can fix you a plate if you’d like.” … Madeline stood frozen, her chest heaving with a fury that had nowhere to land. My question was a punch into a cloud of cotton—soft, yielding, and utterly infuriating. When she didn’t speak, I reached past her and picked up the silk dress she had discarded on the armchair. “This is getting wrinkled,” I noted idly. “I’ll go iron it for you.” “Silas!” She caught my arm, her voice vibrating with a frantic, suppressed edge. “Stop the act! Stop pretending to be insane! Do you have any idea what those posts are doing to my reputation? To my career? I’m a human being, Silas. I’m exhausted!” My hand stilled. My breath hitched, just for a second. “Are you afraid of the impact on your career?” I asked, looking her in the eye. “Or are you afraid of what it’s doing to Tristan?” That name was a landmine. It detonated between us, shredding whatever was left of the quiet. “Why are you bringing up Tristan again?” she snapped. “I told you, I had him transferred to a different research group. I cut him off. You know this. Do you want to drive everyone around you as crazy as you are? Is that the goal?” Her voice climbed to a shrill peak, but then she caught sight of my face—gaunt, shadowed, the face of a man who hadn’t slept in weeks. Her anger vanished as quickly as it had arrived, replaced by a suffocating, performative guilt. She reached out, pulling me into a desperate embrace. “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have snapped. You know the pregnancy makes my emotions go haywire. I’m impulsive. I’ll buy you a new laptop tomorrow, I promise.” I recoiled from her touch as if her skin were live wire. I stumbled toward the door, my stomach rolling, and began to retch. “Don’t touch me,” I gasped. “You’re… you’re covered in it.” Madeline’s face darkened. Her eyes welled with tears, her hands trembling. “You think I’m disgusting?” Before I could move, she grabbed my wrists, shoving me back against the doorframe. She fumbled with my belt, her movements frantic and territorial. She leaned in, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. “The doctor said the second trimester is fine. Silas, let’s just… let’s just be us again.” “Get off me! It’s nauseating!” I shoved her away with a burst of desperate strength. I collapsed to the floor, frantically scrubbing at the skin she’d touched, rubbing until it turned a raw, angry red. The room filled with the sound of my heaving. “So dirty. I have to… I have to wash it off…” “Silas! Do you hate me that much? Tell me what I have to do to make you forgive me!” Madeline shrieked behind me, her voice ragged. I ignored her. I scrambled into the bathroom, locked the door, and turned the shower to a freezing needles-and-ice spray. I let the cold soak into my bones. Outside, the bedroom door slammed with enough force to rattle the pipes. I looked up, catching my reflection in the steamed-over mirror. A pale, ghost-like face looked back, eyes drowning in tears. The grief hit me then, a tidal wave that stole the air from my lungs. I clutched my chest, sobbing until I couldn’t breathe. I never thought we’d end up here—the golden couple of the faculty, the high school sweethearts everyone envied—now reduced to this visceral, skin-crawling loathing. We used to be inseparable. Now, her shadow felt like a stain. I had tried. God, I had tried to be the “broad-minded husband.” I tried to bury the images. But every time I looked at her growing belly, I remembered. I remembered that she had been with him—the student I had personally mentored, the boy I had helped with his tuition—while she was carrying a child. I remembered that while I was at my father’s funeral, she was in our bed, in our home, doing things I couldn’t unsee. My stomach cramped, a sharp, surgical pain that felt like a knife twisting in my vitals. Why did she get to walk around so unburdened? Why did she get to act as if nothing had happened, while I was rotting from the inside out? Eventually, I stumbled out of the bathroom. The house was deathly quiet. Madeline was sitting on the sofa, her eyes rimmed with red. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was out of line tonight. It’s all my fault. I won’t do it again.” “It doesn’t matter,” I said, cutting her off. “That’s your business.” I didn’t wait for her response. I walked into the bedroom and lay down. My tears soaked the pillow as I thought of the life inside her. I’m sorry, little one. Daddy’s just tired. As my eyes drifted shut, I began to count. One hundred days. Just one hundred more days until the baby was born. Then, I would be free. I woke up to a screaming pain in my gut. It was a jagged, rolling agony that made my vision blur. I tried to get out of bed to find my medication, but when I turned the handle, the door didn’t budge. It was locked. From the outside. Panic flared in my chest, competing with the pain. I fumbled for my phone and dialed Madeline. “Madeline… the stomach pain is back. The door is locked… I can’t get out. Please, you have to come back.” Madeline’s voice came through the line, cold and saturated with exhaustion. “Silas, enough. The awards ceremony today is a massive deal for the university. Stop acting out for attention.” “Madeline!” a fresh wave of pain made me cry out. “It’s real. I think it’s an acute flare-up. Please!” “Again with this!” her voice rose. “Are you really trying to ruin the ceremony? Is this your plan? You were so quiet last night just so you could pull this stunt now?” “Madeline, I’m not—” The pain spiked, stealing my voice. I doubled over, and a warm, metallic liquid surged up my throat. I coughed, and a spray of blood splattered across the white duvet. She started to say something else, but a younger, familiar voice broke in from her end. “Is Professor Miller okay? Is your husband causing trouble again?” Tristan asked, his tone dripping with fake concern. “Maybe you should go home, Madeline. You don’t have to stay for me…” “Ignore him,” Madeline said, her voice softening as she spoke to him. “The work comes first.” The sounds of the faculty lounge—laughter, the clink of glasses—swelled in the background. Then, she hung up. I fought for breath. I dialed 911. But as I tried to stand, my legs gave way. I collapsed into the pool of my own blood, tears streaming down my face. The paramedics arrived fast. When they kicked in the door, they found me unconscious in a red sea. I was out for an entire day. The doctor told me it was acute gastritis complicated by stress-induced myocarditis. If I’d been found an hour later, I wouldn’t have made it. Madeline was sitting by my bed when I woke up, clutching my hand, her face a mask of tears. “Silas, I’m so sorry. I’m a monster, a complete idiot!” she sobbed. “I was just so scared that seeing me on stage with Tristan would trigger you… forgive me, honey. Do it for the baby.” The last time I’d seen her cry like this was at our wedding. She’d held me tight and promised to love me for a lifetime. Everything was different now. The woman in front of me was a stranger wearing the skin of the girl I used to love. I stared at the ceiling, feeling a strange, sudden sense of relief. After coming so close to death, the need to force this marriage to work simply evaporated. The buzzing of her phone broke the silence of her confession. It was Tristan. To prove her loyalty, she immediately hit the speakerphone and barked into the receiver, “Tristan, I told you! Stop calling me!” The voice on the other end was shaky, hesitant. “Professor… the results came back. The baby… it’s mine.” My heart didn’t just skip a beat; it felt like it stopped entirely. “I won’t harass you,” the boy continued. “But as the mother, I thought you had a right to know.” My hands curled into fists, my lips trembling so hard I had to bite them to stay still. The child. It wasn’t mine. Madeline hung up instantly, her face a ghastly shade of grey. She looked at me, her eyes filled with a pathetic, desperate terror. “Silas… the baby… he’ll only ever know you as his father. I swear.” I started to laugh. It was a jagged, broken sound. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. “Madeline,” I whispered. “I want a divorce.” “No! No divorce!” Madeline stood up, lunging forward to wrap her arms around me. “Silas, I love you. Don’t say that. Please.” I ripped her hands away, the IV in my arm tugging painfully. “Then let’s go. Right now. We’re walking down to the OB-GYN wing, and I’m going to watch you terminate that pregnancy.” Madeline closed her eyes, trembling. “Tristan… he has severe clinical depression, Silas. He told me if I get rid of the baby, he… he’ll kill himself. I can’t have that on my conscience.” “And what about me?” I grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table and hurled it at her. It shattered against her shoulder, soaking her blouse. “I’m just supposed to wear the horns and raise another man’s child? I’m supposed to play house with the woman who let my mother’s son rot while she chased a student?” Her phone buzzed again. A text from Tristan. She looked at it, her face going pale. “Madeline, I can’t do this anymore. I’m ending it. Goodbye…” Madeline’s composure shattered. Without a word to me, without a second glance, she grabbed her coat and sprinted out of the hospital room. I watched her go. The silence she left behind was heavy. My mother, who had been waiting in the hallway, came in and took my hand. Her eyes were full of a mother’s fierce, protective sorrow. “My boy. No more. We aren’t taking this anymore.” “Divorce her, Silas,” she said firmly. “I’m going back to the house to pack your things.” But the next time I heard my mother’s voice, it wasn’t a call for help. It was the sound of her soul breaking over the phone. “Silas! The house… Madeline sent people. They’re tearing down the old cottage in the valley!” My heart felt like it had been lanced. That cottage… my father had built it with his own two hands, stone by stone. It was all my mother had left of him. “She’s demolishing it, Silas! She says it’s ‘unsafe’!” I called Madeline, my hands shaking so violently I nearly dropped the phone. “How dare you?” I screamed. “How dare you touch that house? My parents treated you like their own daughter!” Madeline’s voice was ice-cold. “If I had been one second later, Tristan would have swallowed a bottle of Xanax, Silas. Your mother called the Dean. She tried to get him expelled, tried to destroy his life. She almost killed him!” “The cottage is gone. It’s for the best. Now your mother will have to move into the city, where I can keep an eye on both of you.” Ten years of marriage, and I finally understood her. She wasn’t just cruel; she was a warden. She wanted to cut off every exit, to force my family to live under her thumb, beholden to her “mercy.” “Madeline,” I hissed, “I hope you rot with him.” “You’re being hysterical,” she said, and hung up. I was still in the hospital, tethered to machines. My mother, overwhelmed by the shock and the loss, suffered a massive heart attack an hour later. The blows kept coming, one after another, until I felt numb. I opened my phone and posted the hundredth message. My wife is carrying her lover’s child. How do I make them burn? The post went nuclear. Within hours, it was trending on every major platform. The internet, in its beautiful, terrible collective rage, found Madeline. They found her university profile, her Instagram, her LinkedIn. She’s a predator. A disgrace to the profession. Check out the ‘happy couple.’ Hope they enjoy hell. Seeing the tide turn was the only thing that gave me a spark of life. I felt a grim, dark satisfaction. Until my account posted a new statement. I’m so sorry, everyone. All of my previous posts were fabrications. I was suffering a mental breakdown. My wife and her student, Tristan, are innocent victims of my delusions. I am deeply sorry for the harm I’ve caused. I tried to log in to delete it. Incorrect Password. Then I remembered. The smashed laptop. Madeline had taken it. She’d used my synced accounts to rewrite the narrative. Then, Madeline posted from her own verified account: Since my pregnancy began, my husband has struggled with paranoid delusions. He’s obsessed with the idea that I’m involved with one of my students. I’ve done everything to help him, including transferring the student to another department, but his condition has worsened. He will be making a public apology soon. Thank you for respecting our privacy during this difficult time. The reversal was instantaneous. The vitriol that had been aimed at her turned on me. You sick old man. Get help and stop ruining a woman’s life. This is pure misogyny. He can’t handle her success, so he invents a scandal. If you’re sick, just die quietly and leave her alone. Before I could process the messages, Madeline called. “Silas. Come to the university tomorrow. You’re going to apologize to Tristan in person.” I was shaking with rage. “Over my dead body.” “He’s innocent in all of this, Silas,” she said, her voice hard. “And the baby is coming whether you like it or not. If you want your mother’s heart surgery to stay on the schedule, if you want her to have a room in this hospital, you will do exactly what I say.” She was using my dying mother’s life as a bargaining chip for her lover’s reputation. I bit my lip until I tasted copper. “Fine,” I whispered. “I’ll be there.” I settled my mother as best I could and took a car to the campus. Tristan was standing behind Madeline, his eyes red, looking like a kicked puppy. When he saw me, he actually had the nerve to rush forward and slap me across the face. “You almost ruined me, Silas! You’re a sick, pathetic man!” The surrounding faculty and students watched with sneers of disgust. Someone was filming, the red ‘Live’ dot glowing on their phone. Madeline looked at me, her eyes warning. “Silas. Apologize.” I swallowed the blood in my mouth. I went to speak, but someone—a student, probably—kicked the back of my knees. I hit the pavement hard, kneeling right at Tristan’s feet. In the scuffle, my shirt caught and tore, exposing the jagged, ugly scar across my back. I’d gotten that scar years ago, shielding Madeline from a mugger with a knife. “Look at him,” someone jeered. “Ugly inside and out. Imagine being married to that.” “Disgusting. No wonder she looked elsewhere in his fantasies.” Madeline looked down at me, a flicker of embarrassment crossing her face. She wasn’t moved; she was just ashamed to be associated with someone so broken. “Silas, don’t look so indignant. You posted a hundred lies. Tristan gave you one slap. Consider it a bargain.” “I’ve wired money to your account for your mother’s bills. Now, we’re even. Don’t ever mention this again.” I hauled myself up, my eyes burning as I looked at her. Even? We would never be even. I suppressed the scream in my throat and rushed back to the hospital to see my mother. When I arrived, the nurses were frantic. She had been moved to the ICU. “She fell,” the nurse told me, her voice trembling. “Down the stairwell. Internal bleeding, multiple fractures. We’re doing everything we can.” The security footage showed it all. It wasn’t a fall. Tristan had been there. He’d pushed her. The blood in my veins turned to liquid nitrogen. I called Tristan, my voice a low, vibrating growl. “You pushed her. I will see you behind bars if it’s the last thing I do.” But it was Madeline who answered his phone. “Don’t blame Tristan for this, Silas. He went to the hospital to check on her, and she started screaming at him. He was scared. It was an accident. He barely touched her.” I was past the point of reason. I screamed into the phone, “She’s in surgery for a brain bleed, Madeline! You’re defending a murderer! Do you have a soul?” She hung up. When I tried to call back, I was blocked. I sat outside the ICU for hours, a ghost in a plastic chair. Finally, the surgeon walked out. He didn’t have to say a word. The tilt of his head said it all. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Miller.” The world tilted. The lights blurred into long streaks of white. I doubled over and retched blood onto the hospital linoleum. My mother was gone. The last person who loved me was gone. The hate that surged through me then was more powerful than the pain. I got into a cab and headed straight back to the university. They wanted a madman? Fine. I would give them a goddamn lunatic. When I arrived at the auditorium, Tristan was on stage giving a speech about “resilience.” I didn’t wait. I stormed the stage, grabbed him by the hair, and slammed my fist into his face. “Murderer! I’ll kill you!” The audience erupted. “Ah! Madeline, help me!” Tristan wailed. Madeline charged onto the stage, and before I could move, she kicked me squarely in the stomach—right where my gastritis was most inflamed. “Silas! What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?” She shielded Tristan with her body, her face contorted with loathing. “You’re ruining the symposium! You’re destroying everything!” Tristan started sobbing, throwing himself onto his knees, wailing for the crowd. “I can’t do this anymore! He won’t stop! I’ll just kill myself, I’ll end it right now so he can be happy!” I saw the flicker of triumph in his eyes as he ran toward the roof access. By the time the crowd reached the rooftop, Tristan was standing on the outer ledge, swaying. “Tristan, baby, don’t do this,” Madeline pleaded, her voice cracking. “I’m here. I’ll fix it.” Tristan’s face was a masterpiece of manufactured tragedy. “I can’t, Madeline. He’s driving me insane. I’m just a kid from a trailer park, I worked so hard for this, and he’s taking it all away…” From the back of the crowd, I barked out a laugh. “Then jump! Do it!” Slap. Madeline’s hand caught me across the face again. “Shut up, Silas! Are you trying to kill him?” She grabbed me by the hair, dragging me to the edge where Tristan stood. “Kneel,” she hissed. “Kneel and apologize. Swear you’ll never touch him again, or so help me God…” “In your dreams,” I spat. Madeline pulled out her phone. She pulled up the live feed from the funeral home where my mother’s body had just been delivered. She looked at me, her voice a flat, robotic monotone. “I’ll give you ten seconds. If you aren’t on your knees, I’m calling the morgue. I’ll have them dump her body on the sidewalk like trash.” I stared at her, looking for a shred of the woman I’d married. There was nothing. Just a machine. “Five… four…” I looked at the screen. I saw a van pulling up to the back of the morgue. I broke. I fell to my knees in front of that sniveling boy. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, the words like glass in my throat. “It was my fault. I won’t do it again. Please.” Tristan smirked, then looked at Madeline with wide, watery eyes. “Professor… I don’t think he means it.” Madeline grabbed the back of my head and slammed my forehead into the gravel of the roof. Warm blood began to mask my vision. She whispered in my ear, “Just take it, Silas. Just get him down, and then it’s over.” I banged my head against that roof ninety-nine times. When Tristan finally stepped down and wrapped his arms around Madeline, he looked over her shoulder at me with pure, unadulterated venom. But then, the rooftop door burst open. Not with students, but with police.

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After being brutally dumped by Chloe, Ethan slept with me when he was vulnerable and drunk. I essentially forced him to marry me. Seven years later, Chloe returned from abroad. Ethan took our son to welcome her back. Everyone in our social circle was waiting to watch me make a fool of myself. Even my own son sided with them, accusing me of being unreasonable and dramatic. He looked at me with disgust, clearly resenting the fact that a woman like me was his mother. That was the moment I finally let go. A forced marriage only breeds bitter resentment. When my editor-in-chief offered me the opportunity to become a war correspondent for Doctors Without Borders, I filled out the application without a second thought. 1 The cake sitting on the dining table began to melt, the frosting drooping sadly down the sides. It looked pathetic and laughable. Ethan had promised me he would pick up our son after work and they would come straight home to celebrate my birthday. I had been sitting at this table for three solid hours. The messages I sent had disappeared into the void. No replies. Or rather, he was too busy to reply. People who usually restricted me from seeing their social media posts were suddenly updating their feeds relentlessly. In the background of one of the photos, a massive pile of luxury gift boxes was visible. In the center was an extravagant, eight-tier custom cake with intricate sugar flowers. Written in elegant icing was: Welcome Home, Chloe. And right below it, in smaller letters: From Ethan. And there they were—two figures I recognized instantly. Ethan, my husband, had his hands gently resting over Chloe’s as they cut the cake together. Leo, my son, was standing beside them, clapping and cheering. Chloe was back. Everyone had rushed to throw her a welcome-home party. No one bothered to invite me. Of course not. Why would anyone invite the woman who shamelessly stole her sister’s boyfriend? That lively, vibrant social media post seemed specifically designed to tell me: Mia, the things you stole using underhanded tactics seven years ago are finally returning to their rightful owner. 2 Seven years ago, Chloe moved abroad for grad school. Ethan was subjected to a brutal, sudden breakup. And I took advantage of his devastation and got into his bed. I forced his hand and made him marry me. I used to have hope. I hoped that, maybe, over the course of these seven years, Ethan would slowly start to fall for me. Or, at the very least, my son would stand by my side. But I failed miserably. I didn’t get either of them. They forgot my birthday to go keep someone else company. It felt like a mess I had created entirely by myself. I couldn’t blame anyone else. The clock on the wall ticked past midnight, heavily signaling the arrival of a new day. I took a knife and smoothed out the drooping frosting on my cake. Forget it. I’m not waiting anymore. With a completely blank expression, I blew out the candles and whispered to the empty room: “Happy Birthday, Mia.” It’s fine. Because after tonight, this will never happen again. My laptop chimed with a notification. My application to be a war correspondent for Doctors Without Borders had passed the initial review. At that exact moment, the front door unlocked. Ethan and Leo walked in. Ethan was holding a small cake box. He immediately launched into an excuse: “Chloe just got back. She doesn’t know her way around anymore, so she needed someone to organize a get-together for her. I’ll make time to celebrate your birthday properly next week.” “Okay.” “Are you still working?” He reached out, intending to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “How did you manage to get frosting in your hair just from eating cake…” Looking at the hand that, just hours ago, had been intimately holding another woman’s, I instinctively flinched and pulled away. “I’ve got a lot of work right now. I need to focus.” His hand froze in mid-air. I didn’t look at them again. I walked straight into the guest bedroom and shut the door. 3 My editor-in-chief’s words echoed in my head. The Eastern Republic is a literal warzone right now. Everyone is desperately trying to flee. Choosing to go there now is not a rational decision. My editor is an older woman, a seasoned journalist who has seen the absolute worst of humanity, yet remains incredibly sharp and resilient. She was worried I was making a reckless, impulsive decision driven by emotional distress. She didn’t approve the transfer immediately. She gave me a few days to seriously consider it. “Your son is only six years old. Are you really willing to leave him behind?” She knew I had a six-year-old son. Leo. But I had already stepped back for his sake once before. It happened at our wedding reception seven years ago. News broke that a shooting had occurred near Chloe’s university in London. Ethan immediately booked the next flight out. I tried desperately to stop him: “By the time you get there, it will be over! The police already announced the shooter was apprehended…” “Mia, how can you be so incredibly selfish?” “She is your biological sister.” His eyes were freezing cold. I stood there, stunned, and slowly let go of his sleeve. He abandoned me at our own wedding reception, leaving me to endure the brutal gossip and mocking stares of every single guest. Back then, I seriously considered just calling the whole thing off. But shortly after, I unexpectedly discovered I was pregnant with Leo. So, I chose to forgive him. “I don’t need to consider it anymore, Chief. I’m going.” 4 In her office, my editor sighed heavily and handed me the final approval forms. She told me to go say my final goodbyes to my family. Given the nature of the assignment, there was no guarantee when—or if—I would ever return. Looking at the familiar number saved in my phone. After agonizing over it, I finally pressed call. I might never come back. I just wanted to see my mother one last time. The call connected quickly. “Hello? Who is this?” Her voice hadn’t changed much over the years. “Mom, it’s me.” “Oh! Mia! What’s going on?” “I miss you.” The woman on the other end instantly picked up on the strange tone in my voice. She asked cautiously: “Do you… want to come stay with Mom for a few days? I miss you too.” I choked back a sob and managed a quiet “Mm.” 5 I stopped at the supermarket downstairs to buy some groceries before heading up to the apartment. I blew warm air into my freezing hands. My heart was fluttering with a million different hopeful scenarios. “Mom! It’s been so long! Did you miss me?!” “Mom, I missed you so much—” I imagined countless ways to casually, happily greet her. But they all died in my throat the second she opened the door. “You actually came?” My mother looked genuinely shocked, as if she thought I was just joking on the phone. I felt incredibly awkward, but forced a smile: “What? Do I need to schedule an appointment to visit my own mother?” My smile felt stiff and frozen, barely clinging to my face. Finally, my mother stepped aside to let me in. “Well, come on in.” It was a cozy, two-bedroom apartment. Very warm and inviting. My mother had a new family now, and a new child. 6 “Mia, how have you and your dad been doing these past few years?” “Dad is dead.” The woman looked extremely uncomfortable, but didn’t ask any follow-up questions. If she had, she would know that my father passed away the summer after I graduated high school. He didn’t leave me a single cent. His will was crystal clear: every asset he owned went to Chloe. So, Chloe used that money to study abroad. Because I didn’t technically meet the poverty criteria, I couldn’t even qualify for financial aid. I spent my entire college career working multiple part-time jobs just to cover my basic living expenses. She never had to do that. “Mom! The drumstick is mine!” At the dinner table, Lily, my half-sister, immediately pouted and threw a fit when she saw our mother place a chicken drumstick in my bowl. There was literally an entire plate of drumsticks still on the table. But my mother instantly smiled, picked up the drumstick from my bowl, and placed it in Lily’s. “Okay, okay, this one is for Lily—” The next second, the little girl picked up the drumstick and threw it back onto the table: “Your chopsticks touched it! It has your spit on it! That’s gross! I don’t want it! Eat it yourself!” “Lily! Behave!” My mother finally got angry. The child slammed her chopsticks down and stormed off to her room. Leaving me sitting there alone, holding my chopsticks, completely unsure of what to do. 7 That night, lying in bed, I couldn’t sleep. I stared blankly at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. “Mom, why is that person still in our house? Didn’t you say she got married and left?” “Keep your voice down! Don’t let your sister hear you, or she’ll start overthinking again!” “She’s not my sister! Chloe is my only sister.” The walls in the apartment were paper-thin. I heard every single word perfectly clearly. The next day, my mother asked me to go pick Lily up from school. She said it would be a good way to ease the tension between us. “I already told Lily you were coming, so she knows to look for you.” I left thirty minutes early. When I arrived, school hadn’t even let out yet. This was my old elementary school, so I took a look around. I suddenly realized how much time had passed; the place had changed drastically. There were new academic buildings, and the cafeteria had been completely renovated. I waited in the designated parent pickup area for a very long time. It wasn’t until every single fourth-grader had left the campus that panic finally set in. Lily was gone. 8 I immediately contacted the school security guards. We checked the cameras. She had walked out the front gates a long time ago. Remembering the recent news reports about child abductions, I panicked and sprinted back to my mother’s apartment to tell her. “You didn’t pick up Lily?!” My mother’s brow furrowed tightly. “Didn’t I specifically tell you to go early?!” “I did go ear—” Before I could finish explaining, a vicious slap sent my head snapping to the side. “Even when you were little, I knew you were vindictive. I can’t believe you’re married now and you still haven’t changed!” “Just because Lily didn’t let you eat a chicken drumstick yesterday, you had to retaliate like this?!” “She’s just a child!” Her finger was practically jabbing into my eye. Her hands were shaking as she pulled out her phone, ready to call the police. The front door opened. It was my mother’s second husband. “Mom! I’m home!” The little girl skipped happily into my mother’s arms. “You picked Lily up?” “Yeah, I finished my shift early, so I went and picked her up. We went out for hotpot,” the man said, dropping a pink princess backpack onto the sofa. “Didn’t I text you?” My mother finally checked her phone and realized she had accidentally put it on ‘Do Not Disturb’. “Mia… does it still hurt? Mom was just so panicked,” she stammered, looking incredibly awkward. She tried to grab my hand to explain. “Mom didn’t mean what she said. Please don’t take it to heart, okay?” “If you’re angry, you can hit Mom back.” She took my hand and weakly tapped it against her own arm. I pulled my hand back, fighting the lump in my throat. “I’m just glad she’s safe.”

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Right after high school graduation, I got engaged to my honorary “younger uncle.” But he only ever treated me like a kid. On our first night in our new home, my hands trembled as I reached up to untie his tie. He brushed my hands away with a lazy, mocking smile. “Do you honestly think I’m such an animal that I’d sleep with the niece I raised?” The very next day, he used a business trip as an excuse and flew overseas. Two years later, we ran into each other at a karaoke bar. At that exact moment, a senior from my university was publicly confessing his love to me. And my “uncle”? He was leaning against the wall, holding a drink, watching the whole show with absolute indifference. … Later that night, I sat nervously in the backseat of his Maybach, while he pinched my chin, studying me intently. “I raised you with my own two hands. Do you really think you could ever run away with anyone else?” 1 I only stepped out of the karaoke room to get some fresh air. I never expected to run into Liam Vance, the “younger uncle” I hadn’t seen in over two years, right there in the hallway. And I definitely didn’t expect to get cornered by a senior student confessing his feelings at the exact same time. I shook my head, completely flustered. “I’m sorry, Matt, I…” “Chloe, is it because I’m four years older than you?” He cut me off, clearly having prepared his speech in advance. “Actually, older guys know how to take care of you better. Like me, for example…” Liam was leaning lazily against the wall a few feet away, holding a drink. He looked completely detached, like he was watching a theater performance. Matt had probably been planning this confession for a long time. The moment he finished his sentence, the rest of the people from our private room poured out into the hallway, surrounding us. “Say yes! Say yes!!” “Come on, Chloe! Matt is so handsome, and he’s rich too!” “You definitely won’t regret it!” I waited for the cheering to die down before biting my lip and finishing my sentence. “I’m sorry. I already have a boyfriend.” A short distance away, Liam slowly lifted his eyes. Matt frowned, his patience visibly wearing thin. “You’ve been using that ‘I have a boyfriend’ excuse since freshman year! How come none of us have ever seen him?!” “Call him right now, and I’ll believe you!” “Yeah, Chloe. You always use that excuse to reject people. It’s so obviously fake.” I was getting a little annoyed now. I argued back, my voice muffled but firm: “We’re getting married this year. Why would I lie to you?” Honestly, I realized it shortly after seeing Liam in the hallway. I was about to turn 20. He flew back to the States this time specifically to marry me. And knowing him, shortly after we got the marriage certificate, he’d probably leave again. Being rejected so publicly made Matt furious and humiliated. “Getting married?!” “Are you playing me for a fool, Chloe?!” “Did I give you too much leeway?!” He pointed a finger directly at my face, his expression turning ugly as he prepared to curse me out. But before he could speak, a much larger, stronger hand grabbed his finger and ruthlessly bent it backward. A shrill, agonizing scream echoed down the entire hallway. 2 The one who acted was Liam’s bodyguard. He followed it up with a sharp kick to the back of Matt’s knees. Unable to support himself, the senior student dropped straight to his knees right in front of me. Hearing the commotion, the club manager rushed over. Acting as if we weren’t even there, he bowed slightly and scurried straight to Liam, his face pale with panic. “Mr. Vance, is there a problem?” “Did this kid do something to upset you?” Liam didn’t answer. He simply raised the hand holding his drink, and the manager immediately took the glass with both hands, bowing subserviently. Liam looked at me, raising one eyebrow, a faint smile on his lips. “Aren’t you going to come over here?” The crowd that had been cheering just moments ago was now dead silent. They even voluntarily parted to create a clear path for me. I obediently walked over to Liam’s side, catching the faint, clean scent of alcohol on him. One of the girls from my group mustered her courage and asked me, her voice trembling slightly: “Is this… your boyfriend?” Liam had always treated me like a child. He definitely wouldn’t appreciate me making bold claims like that on my own. I shook my head to deny it, introducing him: “This is my younger uncle.” Liam’s face remained completely unreadable. He just casually rubbed his left ring finger—right over the engagement ring I had put on him two years ago. The manager, completely unable to read Liam’s mood, was sweating profusely. “Has your anger subsided, Mr. Vance…?” “If not, I can have my guys teach this kid a proper lesson!” Liam raised a hand to stop him. “No need.” He then ordered someone to go back into his private room and fetch his suit jacket. Holding it in one hand, he turned to me. “Do you want to keep playing, or are you coming home with me?” The curiosity burning in the eyes of everyone behind me was practically overflowing. There was no way I was staying here to be interrogated. I subconsciously moved a little closer to him, seeking safety. “Uncle Liam, I want to go home.” 3 The moment we got in the car, the driver immediately raised the privacy partition, making me feel incredibly awkward. The cabin was so quiet I could hear the steady hum of the tires on the highway. Beside me, Liam sat with his eyes closed, rubbing his temples. I curled my fingers nervously on my lap, gathering my courage before speaking softly: “Uncle Liam, do you have a headache?” “I… I can massage it for you.” It had been almost six months since we last saw each other. The dynamic between us had reverted to a stiff, polite boundary line. The man’s deep, magnetic voice held a hint of a chuckle, making it impossibly alluring. “Oh? And I should just let you work hard for me?” “The second I got off the plane, I was dragged to that welcome party. I didn’t even have time to tell you I was back.” It took me two seconds to realize he was explaining his presence at the club to me. “It’s okay.” I unbuckled my seatbelt, kneeled on the seat, and straightened up. I reached out and placed my hands on his temples, massaging them earnestly. Since his eyes were closed, I finally dared to openly trace the lines of his face with my gaze. He really was incredibly handsome. His features weren’t overly delicate, nor were they too sharp or aggressive. He was just simply more handsome than anyone I had ever met. A sudden, sharp honk shattered the silence. The driver slammed on the brakes. Inertia threw me violently forward and to the side. “Ah—” Just as I thought I was going to crash into the door, a pair of strong hands caught me by the waist. I was pulled effortlessly onto Liam’s lap, sitting sideways across his legs. I instinctively threw my arms around his neck to steady myself. Our eyes met. His ink-black pupils clearly reflected my utter bewilderment. At this proximity, the smell of alcohol coming from his collar was much stronger. Snapping out of it, I tried to scramble off his lap. But Liam’s hands clamped down on my waist, trapping me completely. He stared directly into my eyes and suddenly asked: “Are you dating someone?” I looked at him in sheer confusion, having absolutely no idea where that question came from. “What…?” Liam calmly scrutinized my face. Suddenly, he raised a hand, pinched my chin, and tilted my face up. I unconsciously held my breath, too nervous to look at him. Liam was drunk. The intimidating aura he usually kept carefully restrained was now fully unleashed. “You’ve grown up. And your courage has grown with you.” “Uncle Liam…” I gripped the fabric of his shirt at the shoulder, calling his name with a slight tremble. The man’s murmurs grew quieter, yet they seemed to harbor some unspoken, obsessive possessiveness. “I raised you. Doesn’t that mean you belong to me?” He smirked slightly. “How could you ever dare to run away with someone else?” I wasn’t entirely sure what Liam meant by that, and I definitely didn’t dare to interpret it romantically. After all, over the last two years, we had probably spent less than three months actually in the same room together. And he had rejected me before. He certainly couldn’t be talking about ‘liking’ me. But right now, he was drunk. He was only going to hear what he wanted to hear, and he refused to let me go. I had to put my confusion aside for the moment. I clumsily lifted my arms and wrapped them around his shoulders. Fighting the intense heat rising in my ears, I whispered: “I am yours…” “I won’t run away.” As a reward, Liam gently kissed the top of my head. “Good girl.” 4 I had called our housekeeper in advance, asking her to prep the guest bedroom for Liam. But when we got home, he completely ignored it and followed me straight into the master bedroom. His intention was obvious. Honestly, this was bound to happen sooner or later. After all, in half a month—on my 20th birthday—Liam and I were getting our marriage certificate. When my hands reached for his tie, my heart was pounding so loud I half-suspected he could hear it. Facing the terrifying unknown, I couldn’t tell how much of what I was feeling was anticipation versus pure fear. Liam lowered his eyes, watching me silently. A few seconds later, just like two years ago, he gently brushed my hands away. “You’re still terrified.” I pressed my lips together tightly. “I’m sorry, Uncle Liam.” But it was different from two years ago. This time, it was more nervousness than actual fear. Liam wrapped his hand around my wrist and lifted it. He tilted his head slightly and pressed his lips against the fragile skin of my inner wrist. “You don’t need to apologize.” That night, I slept curled up in Liam’s arms. But my body remained subconsciously tense the entire time. In the dead of night, Liam gently stroked the back of my head. “Do you want to marry me?” I nodded slightly, giving the perfect, obedient answer. “I do.” As if to prove my point, I snuggled even closer into his embrace. I think… I might actually have a little bit of a crush on Liam. 5 Liam and I actually had an arranged marriage set up since we were kids. He was 9 years older than me and had never taken the ridiculous arrangement seriously. He told me to call him “Uncle Liam.” When I was little, during the years my dad was abroad expanding his business, Liam was the one who took care of me. But during my senior year of high school, my dad’s company faced bankruptcy. My dad went gray overnight. He finally sat me down, his voice heavy with desperation: “Chloe, will you marry Liam right after you graduate?” “We don’t have to get the legal certificate right away. We can just have the ceremony first.” “My company desperately needs funding from the Vance family…” I was incredibly resistant. I didn’t want a loveless marriage. Besides, at that time, I truly only saw Liam as an uncle figure. But then, my dad ended up in the hospital from severe overwork and exhaustion. Sitting by his hospital bed, I finally compromised. However, when my dad went to discuss it with Liam, he rejected it without a second thought. The next day, the moment I got home from school, my dad dropped to his knees in front of me. He cried hysterically: “I’m so sorry, Chloe.” “After you graduate… go to Uncle Lee. Please…” “Liam doesn’t want you, and I have absolutely no other options.” “Uncle Lee is the only one willing to help me.” That “Uncle Lee” was seven years older than my dad. He had a massive beer belly and was already balding. More importantly, he already had a wife. My dad was shaking violently as he cried. Blood was seeping through the bandages on his wrists. After Liam rejected him, the pressure from the debt collectors broke him, and he tried to slit his wrists. But he survived. So now, he was forcing me to essentially sell my life instead. 6 I ran through the pouring rain all the way to Liam’s house. When Liam opened the door and saw me standing there, my school uniform completely soaked through, he frowned deeply. He pulled me inside. “What happened?” Tears and rainwater mixed together, dripping onto his hardwood floor. I helplessly grabbed his sleeve and begged him: “Uncle Liam, please marry me… Please…” I didn’t want to die, and I couldn’t just stand by and watch my dad die either. My only option was to beg Liam for help. I knew I shouldn’t burden him like this. So the moment he agreed, I resolved myself to spend the rest of my life repaying the massive debt I owed him. The night of our engagement party, we went back to the new house he had bought. Liam had been toasted round after round by the guests, and his steps were slightly unsteady. I had been mentally preparing myself for this all day. But my hands still wouldn’t stop shaking when I reached up to untie his tie. Liam leaned back on the sofa and dodged my hands. Resting his head on his hand, he looked at me with an amused, mocking expression. “What are you trying to do?” I squeezed my sweaty palms together, closed my eyes, and leaned in to kiss him. Liam tilted his head back, dodging me again. He let out a short laugh, looking at me like I was a child throwing a ridiculous tantrum. “You don’t need to do this.” “Or do you honestly think I’m such an animal that I’d sleep with the niece I raised with my own hands?” He pushed off the armrest, stood up, and headed for the guest bedroom. I grabbed his hand, fighting back my panic, and looked up at him. “It’s fine… ” “After all, we’re going to be married eventually anyway.” Liam frowned and scoffed lightly. He reached out and flicked my forehead, a bit harder than usual. “Stop acting crazy, little girl.” “Just go to sleep.”

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1 The day my company went public, my best friend drugged me. When I opened my eyes again, I was tied up in a car. My so-called friend was toying with the signet ring he’d pulled from my finger, a vicious grin spreading across his face. “Rest easy, my friend,” he sneered. “I’ll be sure to take good care of your wife and the company for you.” Before I could even process the rage, the car, with me in it, plunged into the ocean. My best friend, Owen, thought I was dead. Three days later, at my memorial service, he and the shareholders he’d bribed prepared to take over my company. “Gentlemen,” Owen announced to the room, “the company has just gone public. It cannot be without a leader. Therefore, I propose to manage the company on my brother’s behalf, temporarily.” His words were a signal. The bought-off shareholders immediately voiced their support, pressuring those who remained hesitant. Just as the decision was about to be sealed, the man they thought was dead rolled into the memorial service, pushed in a wheelchair by my assistant. “I’m not dead yet,” I said, my voice cutting through the stunned silence. “So when did it become your turn, a murderer, to inherit my company?” … The triumphant smile on Owen’s face froze, his eyes wide with disbelief and shock. My arrival sent a wave of panic through the mourners. “Mr… Mr. Blackwood?” “A ghost! Is he a man or a ghost!” “But they said he was dead! The car went into the ocean, no body was ever found!” They scrambled back, giving me a wide berth. I wheeled myself to the side of the empty coffin and let out a cold laugh. “They couldn’t even find a body, and you dared to hold my memorial?” I fixed my gaze on Owen. “You must be very disappointed right now, Owen. Because you failed to kill me. And now, you’re in trouble. Now, it’s my turn to kill you.” My words shocked everyone back to reality. “Everyone, calm down! If Mr. Blackwood is speaking, it means he was lucky enough to survive.” “Wait, did you hear what he said first? He said, ‘When did it become your turn, a murderer, to inherit my company?’” The attendees exchanged nervous glances, their eyes all turning to the panicked figure of Owen standing by the altar. Whispers erupted as they began to piece together the truth. I expected Owen to be terrified, to beg for my mercy. He did neither. His composure returned with chilling speed, and a sarcastic smile touched his lips. “Brother, what are you talking about?” he said, his voice dripping with false innocence. “I didn’t murder you. If you’re going to insist on slandering me, you’d better have proof.” He added with a taunting lilt, “Spreading rumors is illegal, you know.” He walked down from the altar, and as he passed the coffin, he lifted his foot and kicked it over with a violent thud. “This damn thing is bad luck,” he scoffed. “Useless, empty box.” CRACK! The coffin splintered on the floor. Owen’s eyes met mine, a defiant, mocking glint in them. He was kicking the coffin, but he meant to kick me. “Brother, you may have come back alive, but the board has already decided to let me manage the company,” he declared. “And I swear, I didn’t use any dirty tricks to force the shareholders. Isn’t that right, gentlemen?” He smiled at the crowd of shareholders. Those he’d paid off quickly stepped forward. “That’s correct. It was the unanimous decision of the shareholders to have Mr. Stone manage the company.” “Even if you’re alive, you have to accept reality. The company is public now. You can’t just call all the shots by yourself.” Owen clapped his hands together, delighted. “Did you hear that, brother?” he said. “It’s not that I want the seat. It’s that they asked me to take it.” He leaned in closer. “I know you’re not happy about it, but you’ll have to swallow it. Because while I’m in charge, if anyone causes trouble for me, I won’t let them off easy.” The threat was clearly aimed at me. But he was forgetting something. I had started from nothing. I had seen and survived storms he couldn’t even imagine. I wasn’t about to capsize because of a pathetic snake like him. 2 Before I could speak, Owen’s assistant, drunk on his borrowed power, rushed forward and kicked my wheelchair. “Cole, it’s over for you! There’s no place for you in this company anymore.” He spat as he spoke, spittle landing in my hair. “And now you’re a cripple. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go home and rot.” I have a thing about cleanliness. I despise being made dirty. I looked up, my eyes narrowing. “Say that again.” Owen’s assistant didn’t sense the danger. He opened his mouth and repeated the insult. I pulled a small knife from my pocket and plunged it deep into his thigh. “Heh. A little closer, and you would’ve lost that ‘thing’ of yours.” The blade went in clean and came out red. Blood splattered onto my hand. I calmly took out a handkerchief and wiped it clean. “AAAAAHHHH!!” The assistant crumpled to the floor, clutching his leg and writhing in agony. The scene stunned the crowd into silence, a stark reminder of my more… ruthless methods. I ran a legitimate business, but I also commanded forces that few people knew existed. A mutt like this, daring to bark at me, was digging his own grave. “I did warn you,” I said softly. Owen’s face darkened, his eyes glaring at me like a wolf. A shareholder, eager to curry favor with him, stood up and pointed a finger at me. “Cole, don’t take it too far!” he shouted. “He was just telling you to leave, you didn’t have to hurt him!” I looked at the shareholder with a knowing, humorless smile. His name was Arthur. I had saved his life. I remembered years ago when he’d gambled away everything and was about to jump off a building. I pulled him back from the ledge, paid off his debts, and gave him a stake in my then-fledgling company. He had knelt at my feet, weeping, promising a lifetime of gratitude. Now, here he was, siding with Owen, ready to stab me in the back. The betrayal was a bitter pill to swallow. “You said he was just telling me to leave?” I asked, my voice dangerously low. “This empire was built with my blood and sweat. You thieves waltz in, try to steal it, and then order me out. Tell me, who exactly is taking it too far? Go on. I’m listening.” “Since you’re asking, I’ll tell you,” a new voice cut in. “Because the company needs a healthy man to lead it, not a cripple like you. Understand?” My wife, Evelyn, strode into the room, high heels clicking, swaying her hips. I turned to her in disbelief, my hands clenching into fists. Her eyes were fixed on Owen, and Owen’s eyes were devouring her figure. In that instant, I understood. The two of them had conspired against me, a vile, treacherous pact. “Evelyn,” I ground out. “Do you know what you’re saying? Do you remember whose wife you are?” She met my fury with a cold, indifferent shrug. “Of course, I know what I’m saying.” She paused, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. “As for being your wife… not anymore.” “What do you mean?” I demanded, a terrible premonition creeping into my heart. That night… they had gotten me drunk, and they’d made me sign two contracts. Was this…? My head snapped up to meet Evelyn’s cunning gaze and Owen’s triumphant sneer. The fire of being played for a fool was unquenchable. “Heh,” Evelyn purred. “It seems you’re finally starting to figure it out.” 3 Consumed by rage, I wheeled myself over to Evelyn, grabbing her arm. “Those contracts you two made me sign that night,” I snarled, “what were they?” She shot me a look of pure contempt and violently ripped her arm from my grasp. “Don’t touch me, you pathetic cripple.” Then, she slapped me. Hard. That slap obliterated any lingering affection I had for her. The remaining guests began to murmur amongst themselves. To quell the gossip, Evelyn addressed the room from the front. “Ladies and gentlemen, my sincerest apologies,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “It seems there has been a terrible misunderstanding. Cole is, as you can see, very much alive. I apologize for the confusion. Please, accept my apologies and feel free to leave. What remains is a private family matter, and we will handle it ourselves.” Once the guests had departed, Evelyn’s gentle smile vanished, replaced by a mask of cold cruelty. “Cole, you’re such a smart man,” she cooed. “Why don’t you use that brilliant mind of yours to guess what those contracts were?” As she finished speaking, Owen wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a deep, passionate kiss. I watched, my eyes burning red, my fists clenched so tight my knuckles were white, as my wife and my best friend devoured each other. A chill spread from my heart, and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Ev-e-lyn,” I bit out each syllable. “Give me one reason for this betrayal.” Owen effortlessly lifted her into his arms and sat down across from me. “Why are you so worked up, brother? With your legs broken, a useless man like you should be lying in bed, counting your final days.” He smirked. “Didn’t I tell you? I’d take care of the company and your wife for you. I just took care of her… all the way into my bed.” Evelyn, nestled in his embrace, added her own venom. “Cole, I never loved you. I married you because you were rich and powerful.” Her eyes raked over me with disgust. “Now you’ve lost everything. You’re useless. What’s the difference between you and a cripple?” Believing they had full control, they dropped all pretenses. Staring at their repulsive faces, my mind went blank. One was my best friend, the other, the woman I loved. I had treated them both with nothing but generosity after my success. Especially Owen. He was my childhood friend. His family was dirt poor; he almost couldn’t afford college. I begged my father to sponsor his education. And now, he had forgotten everything, using my kindness to destroy me. The few shareholders who hadn’t taken a side could no longer stand it. They stood up, their voices filled with righteous indignation, pointing at the pair. “You two are disgusting! Now I see it all.” “You conspired to kill Cole so you could take over his company, didn’t you?” “Shameless. Vicious. We will not accept Owen as the head of this company.” “That’s right!” For a brief moment, I felt a flicker of warmth. In times of crisis, you see who your true friends are. Owen set Evelyn down and stood up, strolling around nonchalantly. “So what if you guessed right? This world is survival of the fittest. If you’re not ruthless enough on your way to the top, you won’t last.” He sneered at the shareholder who had spoken. “You old fossil, your support means nothing. It won’t change the fact that I’m taking over.” With that, Owen punched the man, sending him staggering back. “Old man, if you ever dare point your finger at me again, I’ll break it on the spot.” He glared at the others. “Don’t think that cripple Cole can save you. You’d all be wise to pick the right side if you don’t want to end up in a ditch.”

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The day Asher Ford won Best Actor, a ten-year-old video went viral. The camera footage showed a torrential downpour. He was gripping a young girl’s shoulders, his voice raw with anguish. “Iris, how can someone as cold-blooded as you even exist? Why don’t you just die?” Netizens meticulously identified the girl in the video—me. The girl who now gutted fish at the local market, working several jobs a day to pay off debts, living a life that was a complete wreck. They all laughed, saying I’d gotten what I deserved. Later, we met again on another rainy night. I had fallen, a mess on the ground, struggling to right my busted-up tricycle. Asher Ford stepped out of a Maybach, holding an umbrella over my head. Beneath its shadow, his face was a mask of indifference. “This,” he said, “is the pathetic life you’ve made for yourself without me.” 01 When that ten-year-old video started trending, I was at the market, gutting a fish. In the video, the girl’s side was to the camera. The rain had soaked her white dress, making her look fragile and thin, like a butterfly with a broken wing. After that hysterical, desperate question from the young man, she pried his fingers from her shoulders, her voice almost cruel. “Then you can just consider me dead.” The old fan at the next stall over was so loud that the sound from my phone felt distorted and distant. I handed the wrapped fish to a young customer. She glanced at me, then back at the video playing on her phone. “Do you… do you know Asher Ford?” she stammered. I lowered my eyes. “No.” A splash of grimy water, thick with the smell of fish, hit my chin. It was a smell I was long used to, but at that moment, it made my stomach churn. The customer’s eyes were filled with doubt. I managed a small smile. “An A-lister like him? How could he know someone like me?” 02 I shut down my stall in a hurry and fled back to my cramped little flat. It was the middle of the rainy season, and the roof was leaking, leaving disgusting patches of mold on the ceiling. I’d never gotten around to replacing my shattered phone screen. The signal was terrible. I had to refresh the page several times before it finally loaded. The hashtag #AsherFordsExGirlfriend was at the top of the list. Someone had already doxxed me. I clicked on the post. The photo showed me with my lips pressed into a thin line, my hands covered in the blood and gore of my work. Sweat-plastered strands of hair stuck to my face, along with a few stray fish scales. I looked haggard and utterly defeated. The top comment had tens of thousands of likes. [Damn! The doxxing speed is insane. Karma’s a bitch!] [Asher’s watch is worth 3 million, she guts a fish for 3 bucks. Instant karma, LMAO.] [My heart broke seeing our angel Asher begging her not to leave, that look of despair on his handsome face! Someone needs to go smash her pathetic little fish stall tomorrow!] The bowl of noodle soup on my table had gone cold and congealed. The greens were wilted; I hadn’t been able to sell them before closing. The sight of it made my stomach turn. Rain dripped from the ceiling, a maddening, incessant beat against my nerves. The screen went dark. I wiped my eyes roughly. The rain had been bad for business lately. If I didn’t open the stall tomorrow, where would the money come from? Suddenly, my phone rang. “Hello? Is this… Iris? The fishmonger?” The man’s voice on the other end had a strange tone. “Tomorrow night at 6, I need your most expensive fish delivered to The Crestmont. I’ll pay you a twenty-dollar delivery fee in cash. Don’t be late, you hear me?” A few of my regular customers had my number. This was a lifeline, enough to get me through tomorrow. “Okay,” I said, my voice hoarse. 03 The Crestmont was a private venue up in the hills. The rain was coming down hard, and the road was poorly lit. My wheel hit a deep pothole. I didn’t even have time to cry out as the handlebars were ripped from my grasp. The little tricycle tipped violently, throwing me to the ground. My right shoulder and hip slammed into the asphalt, a dull throb of bone that made me gasp. I reached down to check, my fingertips coming away wet. I thought it was mud. But in a flash of a distant streetlight, I saw the dark stain of blood. The unsold, rotting vegetables I hadn’t unloaded yet were scattered all over the road. I didn’t break down and cry. Instead, I limped to my feet and crouched down to clean up the mess. On the storm-lashed mountain road, a pair of bright headlights cut through the rain, getting closer. They sliced through the downpour, illuminating my miserable state for the world to see. A Maybach pulled to a smooth stop. Someone stepped out, holding a black umbrella, and walked over to me, shielding me from the rain. I looked up. And just like that, I was staring into the eyes of Asher Ford. He tilted the umbrella slightly, revealing his face. It was the same, yet not the same. His expression was blank, his thin lips parting slightly. “This is the pathetic life you’ve made for yourself without me.” An indescribable sorrow pierced my heart. My hand, gripping the tricycle’s handlebar, turned white. My nails dug deep into my palm. Yes. This was the tenth year since I had abandoned him. This was the pathetic, broken creature I had become, just struggling to survive. Raindrops slid from the edge of his tailored suit jacket. He saw the blood seeping through my pants leg. The ice in his eyes melted, replaced by something sharper, more urgent. He crouched down. The cuff of his expensive trousers dipped into the filthy puddle at his feet. Asher’s hand came to rest on my back, his thumb brushing over my sharp shoulder blade. He paused. “We’re going to the hospital.” A few scrapes. Compared to not being able to afford food after a doctor’s visit… I didn’t have a choice. I struggled, pushing him away. “I’m fine.” Asher’s outstretched hand froze in mid-air. He stared at my face, a bitter, angry smile twisting his lips. His voice was cold. “Ten years, Iris. You’re just as stubborn and ungrateful as you’ve always been.” 04 His words made the color drain from my face. Just then, a young woman got out of the Maybach. She walked straight to Asher’s side. “Asher, everyone’s waiting for us. What’s taking so long?” Her voice was soft, almost a purr. The space under the umbrella suddenly felt crowded. I took a step back. The woman’s eyes flickered over me, a look of disgust flashing across her face as if she’d seen something foul. It was gone so quickly I thought I might have imagined it. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late. It’s your celebration dinner tonight. People will think we’re being divas.” She linked her arm through his. Asher just stared at me, not resisting her touch. The two of them stood there together. His champagne-colored suit, her matching dress. They looked like a perfect couple. My carefully constructed walls of composure began to crumble. I looked down. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m blocking your way.” I turned and scrambled back onto my tricycle, twisting the key. In the rearview mirror, the rain-swept world receded. It had been ten years. I thought I was over it. But in that single moment, the dull ache in my heart became a suffocating agony. I didn’t dare to stop, didn’t dare to look back. The thick fog of rain closed in, separating us completely. 05 The parking lot of The Crestmont was filled with luxury cars. I locked up my tricycle and pushed open the door to the private room. The people inside looked vaguely familiar. It took me a second to realize. They were my old high school classmates. The moment I walked in, the atmosphere froze. A dozen pairs of eyes raked over me, taking in my mud-caked rubber boots, my soaked pants, my wet hair dripping onto the floor. The face reflected in the glass was pale and makeup-free. “Iris?” The woman who had been with Asher stood up. A flash of disgust and excitement crossed her face. “So it was you back there.” Her smile widened. She turned to the others. “See? What did I tell you? Twenty bucks, and she comes running like a dog.” Her tone was light, but the words were dripping with contempt. Her face was unfamiliar, but her voice… suddenly, I knew who she was. After I broke up with Asher, I had gone through a period where anyone and everyone felt they could walk all over me. Sophia had dragged me into the school bathroom and held my head under the faucet. Her friends had pinned me down while she ground her heel into my hand. Then she’d crouched down, slapping me over and over. “You love pretending to be so pure to seduce Asher, don’t you? Go on, cry. Let’s see if he comes to save you now.” Ten years later, the memory still made my hands tremble. I fought back the wave of nausea rising in my throat. “Is there a Mr. Collins here? I have your order.” A man stood up. I recognized him. Mark Collins. He had been one of Sophia’s admirers back in the day. “Wow, Iris. Look at you. Is there even any point in living like this?” “Yeah, if I were her, I’d find a ditch to jump into. Or… I guess some things are easy to sell. Deliver a fish, and maybe something else on the side?” A wave of low, cruel laughter spread through the room. Someone whispered, “When Asher gets here and sees her looking like this, he’s going to puke.” At that, a look of pure, unadulterated pleasure crossed Sophia’s face. I had to get paid. I had to get out of there before Asher arrived. I swallowed my pride. I held out the fish. “Your order is here. Who’s paying?” Mark, trying to look like a big shot, pulled out his phone. “Fifty bucks. Keep the change.” He leered at me, his eyes roaming my body. “You’re cheap anyway.” Amidst a chorus of lewd chuckles, I pulled out my own phone, the screen a spiderweb of cracks, and opened the payment app. “This is a wild-caught yellow croaker. It’s five hundred dollars a pound.” 06 The laughter died instantly. Mark was the first to react. “What?! Five hundred a pound?!” Sophia frowned, her face a mask of disdain. “Iris, I know things are tough for you, but you can’t just scam your old classmates. It’s not like any of us have money to burn.” My patience was gone. “That’s the market price.” Mark’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He lunged forward and slapped my phone out of my hand. The old, fragile thing went flying. He gave me a hard shove. “You greedy bitch! Are you out of your fucking mind?!” I stumbled and fell. The black bag holding the fish hit a display shelf, sending a cascade of porcelain crashing to the floor. The expensive fish flopped wildly on the ground, its struggles spattering stinking water and slime everywhere. Sophia shrieked, staring in horror at a fish scale that had landed on her dress. “This is custom-made! Asher ordered it for me! Did you do this on purpose?” Someone threw a wad of napkins at me. “Do you have any idea how much that dress costs? You couldn’t afford it in a hundred lifetimes, you worthless trash!” Others chimed in. “People like her are just full of petty jealousy. Get on your knees and clean it up!” “She’s still the same as she was in high school. Poor, dirty, and pathetic.” The red tablecloth lay at my feet like a pool of blood. I reached for my phone, wanting to call the police. Someone playfully stuck out a foot, kicking the battered phone across the floor. The battery popped out. I scrambled to get it, but someone pinned me down. Every nerve in my body was screaming. Creeak. The door to the room opened. A tall figure was silhouetted against the light from the hallway. An expensive suit jacket framed a perfect physique. A pair of beautiful eyes found mine. There was no warmth in them. Only a cold, detached indifference. His gaze was as heavy as the storm outside, soaking the last tattered shreds of my dignity. The world went silent. I could barely breathe. “What are you all doing?” His voice was quiet, but it carried an undeniable weight. 07 I lowered my head and picked up the pieces of my phone. Asher stopped, the tip of his expensive shoe nearly touching my cheap rubber boot. Amid the stench of fish, I could smell the clean, woody scent of his cologne. His long, elegant hand opened, palm up. “Your number.” Every eye in the room snapped to us. Sophia bit her lip. “Asher, Mark was just trying to help an old classmate out, but she tried to take advantage…” Asher tapped his phone a few times. A cold, mechanical voice cut through her words. [Payment received: $3,000.] His face was unreadable. “I’m paying.” Under the weight of everyone’s stares, I avoided his eyes. “Thank you,” I whispered. My knee throbbed where I’d fallen. I staggered to my feet and turned to leave. Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets. It ran into my eyes, stinging. The cuts on my palms were starting to bleed again. At least I got paid. I let out a long, shaky breath. 08 The truth was, shortly after we broke up, my family went bankrupt. My father took his mistress and fled the country. He had already transferred all his assets. He didn’t leave a single penny for my sister and me. My sister’s health was poor, and over the years, she had only gotten sicker. I told myself that on my way to the hospital, I would buy her a pretty hair clip. The roar of an engine grew closer. That Maybach cut me off again. Asher’s face was dark. “Get in the car.” I said nothing. He frowned, letting out an impatient sigh. “Iris, do you have to be so stubborn?” People were starting to stare. He was a public figure now. A scene would be bad for him. Just as I was about to get in, my phone buzzed with a piercing ringtone. I fumbled to answer it. “Miss Miller? It’s the hospital. Your sister’s condition has taken a turn for the worse. You need to get here immediately.” A roar filled my ears. Those words shattered what little strength I had left. “What’s wrong?” Asher’s eyes flickered to my screen, and from my devastated reaction, he knew. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” I didn’t resist this time. I got in the car. In the hospital room, the nurse’s expression was full of pity. “We were able to stabilize her, but the kidney failure is progressing faster than we thought…” She paused, the unspoken words heavy in the air. “The money you paid last month just covered her basic treatment. The cost of the transplant evaluation and finding a match is… substantial. You need to start thinking about how you’re going to manage it.” I barely heard the rest. My mind was a chaotic mess. The beep of the monitor was a cold, steady rhythm. Lily lay on the bed, so small and fragile, the IV tubes like vines, tethering her to this world. So thin, so small, so young. Like a porcelain doll. I didn’t even dare to touch her hand. When I looked up, Asher was gone. I closed the door to her room and went to the stairwell. Every step felt like I was walking on cotton. I crouched in a corner, burying my face in my knees. And finally, I let myself cry in silence. For ten years, the only thing that had kept me going was my sister. But the mountain of medical bills was crushing me. What was I going to do? 09 Click. The stairwell door opened. Asher stood there. He saw my tear-streaked face and quickly looked away, shielding me from the view of the nurse behind him. He handed her something. “She’s not here. Could you please give this to her later?” He didn’t look at me again as he closed the door. I quickly wiped my eyes and went back to the room. The nurse handed me a few thin receipts. “The gentleman who was just here asked me to give you these.” She gave me a kind smile. “Also, your sister will be moved to our best private room today.” My hands trembled as I looked at the receipts. The pre-paid amount was a number that made my head spin. Ten years of bitterness. When we broke up, he had hated me. Hated me enough to wish me dead. But today, he had paid for everything without a second thought. I stumbled out of the stairwell and ran. His tall, straight back was just at the end of the hallway. “Asher!” My voice was breathless from running. The empty corridor was bathed in a sterile, white light that illuminated the detached expression on his face. “Thank you.” Meeting his deep, dark eyes, I clenched the hem of my shirt. “I’ll find a way to pay you back. I can write an IOU, with interest…” Before I could finish, he let out a short, sharp laugh. “Do you really think I care about the interest?” He took a step closer, his eyes like daggers. “Lily is like a sister to me. She used to call me her big brother. So swallow your pathetic pride. This has nothing to do with you.” I bit my lip, humiliated. Asher tossed a paper bag at me. “Antiseptic.” He turned and walked away without another word. Only then did I feel the stinging, burning pain in my leg. It was a scene that felt strangely familiar. Years ago, during gym class, I had scraped my leg and was sitting alone in the shade. A shadow fell over me. The sunlight dappled through the leaves, landing on Asher’s white shirt. He held out a paper bag. “This kind disinfects faster. It doesn’t hurt as much.” He had rolled up my pant leg and knelt at my feet, carefully cleaning the wound. His thin lips were set in a serious line, but they had a faint, reddish tint. On impulse, I had leaned in and kissed him. A light, fleeting touch. He had looked up, the tips of his ears bright red, but his gaze was steady. “That’s not how you do it,” he’d said. “Let me teach you.” But then… Everything had gone wrong.

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My college roommate loved to label people. On the first day of school, she took one look at my designer outfit, rolled her eyes, and sneered, “Fake-brand freak.” To prove to everyone else that her “expert eye” was never wrong, she grabbed my handbag and took a pair of scissors directly to it. She laughed. “Real cowhide is soft and supple. This thing is stiff as a board. It’s obviously fake. Even if I cut up a hundred of these, I could easily afford to pay you back.” Just as the words left her mouth, my nanny pushed open the dorm room door. “You’re absolutely right, miss. It isn’t cowhide, because it’s crocodile skin.” She held up her phone, displaying a black digital wallet interface. “I am Mia’s nanny. You can transfer the funds directly to me. The total is $240,000.” 01 Freshmen were required to complete a month of basic training. To save me from getting sunburned, my mom arranged for me to arrive on campus on the very last day of training. She also insisted on sending Martha, the nanny who practically raised me, to live nearby and take care of my daily needs. And so, there we were in the dorm room. After Martha meticulously cleaned and made my bed, she carefully sorted the small welcome gifts she had prepared. She advised me, “Since you’re arriving late, Mia, giving these perfumes and face creams to your roommates is a good way to build goodwill and integrate faster.” I frowned. “Helena Rubinstein? Isn’t that a bit too cheap?” Martha quickly shook her head. “If you want to experience normal college life, you can’t give them anything too expensive.” I nodded, conceding the point. “Alright, you should go now. They’ll be back soon. You can come back when the room is empty.” 02 After Martha left, I excitedly inspected the dorm room. I had been pampered and sheltered by my parents since I was born. Driven everywhere by a chauffeur, constantly accompanied by a nanny at home. It was incredibly boring. So, for college, I insisted on living in the dorms to finally experience communal student life. But my excitement only lasted a few seconds before I noticed something. One of my roommates had several high-end knockoff designer bags sitting on her desk. Immediately after, the dorm door was pushed open. Two deeply tanned girls walked in. They looked exhausted, but their eyes lit up the moment they saw me. They asked excitedly, “Are you our last roommate, Mia Sterling?” One of them, a very skinny girl, looked me up and down. She gasped, “Oh my god, you look perfectly put together, like a rich heiress from a TV show!” The other chimed in, equally enthusiastic, “Yeah, exactly! Your skin is literally glowing.” She gently poked my arm. And squealed, “You’re so soft!” Seeing how cheerful and outgoing they were, I couldn’t help but laugh along. I handed them the gift bags Martha had prepared. “It’s an honor to be your roommate. I look forward to getting along with you all.” Just as the words left my mouth, the door banged open. A girl who had clearly been rigorous about her sun protection, looking quite glamorous, strutted into the room. She gave me a single, sweeping glance. Then drawled lazily, “Fake-brand freak.” She walked straight over to the desk with the knockoff bags and sat down. 03 The cheerful atmosphere instantly evaporated, replaced by suffocating awkwardness. The skinny roommate tugged my sleeve and whispered kindly, “Chloe Vance comes from a really rich family too. She just has a terrible temper. Try not to let her get to you.” She then peeked into the gift bag, pulling out the face cream, and gasped loudly. “Oh my god, Mia, are you actually a real-life heiress?! You’re giving us Helena Rubinstein ‘Black Bandage’ cream on the first day?! Holy crap!!!” The other roommate joined in the exaggerated gratitude. “Lord above, has the trope of ‘rich heiress’s loyal sidekick’ finally chosen me?!” She dramatically dropped to one knee. “My lady, I am your humble servant. Should you require anything in the future, please do not hesitate to command me.” Her comedic timing was perfect. The three of us burst into laughter. But Chloe, sitting off to the side, suddenly grabbed the gift bag I had placed on her desk and violently smashed it onto the floor. She snapped at the other two, “Are you two actually that broke? Someone throws a little fake garbage at you, and you drop to your knees acting like grateful dogs?” Her voice was shrill and grating. “I should just start calling you two broke little mutts. You’ll accept anyone as your master. If someone fed you shit, you’d probably wag your tails happily.” Furious at her absolute rudeness, I demanded, “What gives you the right to say these are fake?” Chloe didn’t even blink. “Because my mom has gone through over a hundred jars of that stuff! I can spot a fake a mile away!” As if she needed to prove a point, she grabbed the handbag sitting on my desk and held it up to the other two roommates. “Do you two even know what this logo means?” They shook their heads. She scoffed. “Hermès. I went shopping at their boutique with my mom right before the semester started, and they absolutely did not have this model.” She slammed the bag back onto the desk. “You desperate poser.” “I’ve seen millions of girls like you. You’re just trying to fake a wealthy persona so you can snag a sugar daddy!” “If you’re so rich, why the hell are you living in a dorm? Why didn’t your parents just buy you a penthouse near campus?” Seeing my face flush red, she looked incredibly smug. “What? Did I hit a nerve? Are you triggered?” To definitively prove her point, she dug a pair of scissors out of her desk. She grabbed my bag and drove the scissors right into it. With several forceful slashes, the bag was covered in jagged, deep cuts. Chloe panted slightly from the effort. “See?! Real Hermès bags are made of premium cowhide! They’re soft! This piece of garbage is stiff as a board. It’s obviously fake.” She glared at me triumphantly. “I’ve seen plenty of girls trying to fake it till they make it.” “Running into me is your worst nightmare!” She pulled out her phone, looking down at me with absolute arrogance. “Give me your Zelle or Venmo.” “For a fake piece of trash like this, even if I cut up a hundred of them, I could easily afford to pay you back.” Right at that moment, Martha, carrying a beautifully crafted insulated lunchbox, appeared in the doorway, her face dark as a thundercloud. I knew this was bad. That bag was my birthday present from Martha. She had saved up for over half a year to buy it for me. Her heart had to be breaking. I expected her to completely lose her temper. But she maintained her elegant, refined composure perfectly. “You’re absolutely right, miss. It isn’t cowhide, because it’s crocodile skin.” “And it makes perfect sense that you haven’t seen it, because it’s an unreleased model from next spring’s collection.” She pulled out her phone, displaying a black digital wallet interface indicating an ultra-high-tier account. “I am Mia’s nanny. You can transfer the funds directly to me. The total is $240,000.” Seeing Chloe freeze in shock, she added smoothly, “With how arrogant you’re acting, surely you wouldn’t have trouble producing such a trivial amount, right?” 04 Martha’s presence was incredibly intimidating. The black digital wallet interface instantly shattered Chloe’s arrogant facade. But she quickly recovered her composure, letting out a harsh scoff. “Wow, you scammers are getting bold, bringing your operations straight onto a college campus now?” “You carry a fake bag, hire some older woman to act as a prop, and have the audacity to try and extort me for $240,000?” She crossed her arms, glaring at me with absolute contempt. “You pathetic little sugar baby. The real reason you skipped basic training for a month was probably because you were recovering from an abortion…” She didn’t get to finish the sentence. A sharp, resounding slap echoed through the room, landing squarely on her face. Martha completely dropped her elegant, polite demeanor. She snapped sharply, “Who the hell do you think you are, spewing that kind of garbage in front of my lady?!” “Throwing around the term ‘sugar baby’—what, is that how your mother managed to birth you?!” Her tone was deadly serious. “Take a good look in the mirror at your own pathetic behavior. Your mother clearly couldn’t land a decent sugar daddy, which is why you turned out so completely classless!” After finishing her tirade, she pulled a wet wipe from her bag. And began methodically wiping her hand. “If I ever hear you spreading malicious rumors again, I will personally tear your mouth off.” 05 For a moment, you could hear a pin drop in the dorm room. My eyes widened in absolute shock. Growing up, Martha had always been the epitome of refined, gentle grace around me. I had no idea she could be this devastatingly brutal when angry. I gave her a massive thumbs-up. She really earned her title as the elite nanny who had successfully navigated the vicious infighting of my mother’s aristocratic family. Her combat effectiveness was off the charts. Meanwhile, Chloe, who had been completely stunned by the slap, absolutely exploded when she saw my thumbs-up. She never anticipated that Martha would actually hit her. And she definitely didn’t expect me to so blatantly cheer Martha on right in front of her face. She lunged forward, ready to retaliate. She shrieked, “Do you have any idea who I am?! How dare you hit me!” She threw all her weight into it, looking like she wanted to slap Martha into a bloody pulp. But I was honestly more worried for her safety than Martha’s. Because in her youth, Martha had been the national kickboxing champion four years in a row. And exactly as I predicted… The very next second, Martha easily caught Chloe’s wrist, raised her other hand, and delivered another brutal slap. This time, the force sent Chloe crashing to the floor. Martha commanded, “I don’t give a damn who you are. If you dare insult my lady, you are asking for a beating!” 06 The explosive argument quickly drew a crowd of students from neighboring dorms, who gathered around our open door. A few girls who were friends with Chloe pushed their way to the front, shielding her, and yelled at Martha, “Who gave you the right to come onto a college campus and assault a student?!” “It’s just a cheap, fake bag! Chloe’s family owns over a dozen coal mines; do you really think she’d misidentify it?” “It’s obvious you two targeted her because she’s rich and tried to scam her, and when she exposed you, you lost your minds!” The others in the crowd quickly chimed in. “Yeah, exactly! Forget $240,000; even if it was $2 million, Chloe wouldn’t even blink.” “Trying to run a scam with a fake bag—do you think rich people are idiots?!” Everyone was shouting at once. It felt like they wanted to drown Martha and me in their self-righteous spit. Meanwhile, the skinny roommate nervously tugged on my shirt and whispered a warning. “Mia, maybe you should just apologize to Chloe. She holds massive grudges. A few days ago during training, the girl standing in front of her accidentally stepped on her shoe. Chloe relentlessly bullied her until the girl was forced to drop out of school entirely.” Just as she finished speaking, Martha’s phone flash went off. She laughed cheerfully. “No problem! I’m just taking a quick photo. Later, when the police order Ms. Vance to pay for the damages, I hope all of you currently defending her are willing to chip in and help her cover the cost!” “Don’t try to run away when the bill comes due!” The moment she said that, the crowd instantly went silent. This infuriated Chloe even more. She violently shoved away the girl who had been defending her and screamed, “What the hell are you waiting for?! Call the police! I am going to prove to every single person here today that I was right!” Hearing that, I smiled and pulled out my phone. “Don’t bother. I already called them.”

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On the day of the Spring Festival Gala, my childhood best friend’s microphone suddenly malfunctioned, causing a massive broadcasting disaster that earned her nationwide condemnation. Mysteriously, I also lost my voice on the same day and was subsequently sued by the production company for a staggering breach of contract fee. Unable to pay the debt, I was sentenced to prison. Before turning myself in, I sent my husband and son abroad.

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