Category: English

I was the unattainable first love of a Manhattan elite. When we reunited at my engagement dinner, I found out the man I was marrying was actually his brother. I forced a calm smile and greeted him, “Carter. It’s been a while.” “I’m about to be your sister-in-law.” Under the watchful eyes of everyone in the room, Carter dropped his cigarette and strode right up to me. “Sister-in-law?” He leaned in slightly, his lips brushing my ear. “Do you think becoming my sister-in-law wipes our slate clean?” 1 My engagement dinner with Nolan Davis was meant to be an intimate affair. We only invited our parents and a few important relatives from both sides. We planned to finalize the wedding details over a nice meal. If everything went according to plan, we would go to City Hall to get our marriage license this afternoon, hold the ceremony later, and officially become a family. It was all happening so fast that I felt a little dazed. Nolan, my soon-to-be husband, sat beside me, meticulously peeling shrimp for me. When our relatives teased him for spoiling his future wife, his ears turned red and he just offered a soft chuckle. He placed the peeled shrimp in a small bowl, casually pushed it in front of me, and even mixed a dipping sauce for me. In that moment, just like many times before, I felt so lucky to have met a man as good as him. I was just about to dip a shrimp into the sauce when the private dining room doors were violently shoved open from the outside. Every eye in the room darted toward the door, including mine. But the moment I saw who had walked in, I froze. A second later, I calmly averted my gaze and turned my head away. I heard Nolan’s father speak up. “Carter? What are you doing here?” My first thought was sheer confusion. Why did Mr. Sterling know Carter? Nolan’s family was well-off, sure, but compared to the Sterling family—an old-money dynasty that practically owned the city—they were miles apart. They shouldn’t even run in the same circles. “My son is getting engaged. How could I not be here? Right, Dad?” Carter placed a heavy, venomous emphasis on the word “Dad.” I couldn’t help but look up at Mr. Sterling. Looking closely, the two men actually did share a resemblance. He was Carter’s father? Then that made Nolan… Carter’s brother? After all these years, my life had come full circle, only for me to become my first love’s sister-in-law? It was absurd. While I was still drowning in this unacceptable reality, Mr. Sterling let out an awkward, nervous laugh. He quickly flagged down a waiter to add another chair. “Right, right, right. You should be here.” He was clearly terrified of Carter. The tone and posture he used to speak to him were painfully cautious. “Let me introduce everyone. This is my youngest son, Carter.” The waiter brought a chair, and Mr. Sterling patted the back of it, waving him over. “Carter, come sit.” But Carter was exactly the same as he was years ago. He didn’t give a damn about saving face for anyone. He stood rooted to the spot, his sharp gaze sweeping the room before locking dead onto me. With an unreadable emotion flashing in his eyes, Carter lifted his chin in my direction. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” My stomach dropped. Mr. Sterling opened his mouth to speak, but the man sitting quietly beside me suddenly stood up. Nolan placed a hand on my shoulder, looked at Carter, and said slowly, “Carter, this is my fiancée, Vivian Hayes.” I didn’t know if I was imagining it, but there was a faint trace of provocation in Nolan’s tone. 2 The air pressure in the room plummeted. A scorching gaze pinned me to my seat and refused to look away. Nolan patted my shoulder, signaling me to stand up and say hello. It looked like I couldn’t hide from this. But on second thought, so many years had passed. The young heir of the Sterling empire never lacked beautiful women around him. There was no way he was still hung up on a nobody like me. Thinking this, I stood beside Nolan and greeted him calmly. “Hello, Carter. I’m Vivian Hayes.” His eyes were cold and piercingly direct. I was terrified he was going to say something he shouldn’t. My mother cared deeply about this engagement, and I naturally didn’t want anything to go wrong. “If nothing goes wrong, I’ll be your sister-in-law soon!” I stated my identity clearly, a subtle warning for him not to cause a scene. But I forgot that Carter was a madman. Six years had passed, and he was even crazier now. Under the watchful eyes of everyone in the room, Carter dropped his cigarette and strode right up to me with absolute arrogance. “Sister-in-law?” His tone was dripping with blatant mockery. With his hands shoved in his pockets, he completely ignored Nolan standing right beside me. Carter leaned in slightly, his lips brushing my ear. “Do you think becoming my sister-in-law wipes our slate clean?” His voice wasn’t quiet. It was loud enough for every single person in the room to hear clearly. Mr. Sterling was the first to speak. “Vivian, you know Carter?” I gripped the fabric of my dress, my knuckles turning white. I kept a polite smile glued to my face. “We were in high school together.” Hearing the words “high school” fall from my lips, Carter’s eyes turned to ice. Even the mocking smirk on his lips vanished. He narrowed his eyes, his voice dripping with danger. “Were we just classmates?” It wasn’t just him; everyone in the room was holding their breath, waiting for my answer. I stared straight into Carter’s eyes. “Just classmates.” Carter’s body went rigid for a split second. He stood up straight, looking down at me from his towering height. He was a tall man, and his gaze always carried a suffocating weight—even more so now, considering the guilt eating me alive. “Vivian Hayes,” Carter said my name suddenly. “Hugging and making out with normal classmates… You were pretty wild in high school, weren’t you?” 3 That single sentence sent a shockwave through the room. The way everyone looked at me instantly changed. Only Nolan acted like he already knew. He grabbed my hand, pulling me behind him protectively. “Carter, the past is in the past. From now on, she will be my wife, and your sister-in-law.” Carter ignored Nolan’s words entirely. His eyes were glued to our intertwined hands. He let out a cold, dark laugh. “You really think you can steal my woman and live long enough to marry her?” “Let me make this perfectly clear. Whoever dares to marry her, I’ll kill him. If you don’t believe me, try it.” He aimed that threat directly at Linda, Nolan’s mother. The effect was immediate. The warmth in Linda’s eyes vanished. She glared at me, blaming me for provoking a monster like Carter. She marched over and physically yanked Nolan away from me. “I’m so sorry, Vivian! But I really don’t think you two are a good match. Let’s just call off this engagement.” I lowered my head, my grip tightening on my now-empty hand. Nolan refused to leave with her. “Mom, what do you mean call it off?! I’m marrying Vivian!” His mother dragged him toward the door. When Nolan resisted, the usually gentle Linda suddenly slapped him hard across the face. “Carter just said he’ll kill whoever marries her! Do you have a death wish?!” “Did you forget that he and his mother are both absolute lunatics?!” Nolan, who had been fighting her off, suddenly went completely still. He let his mother drag him out of the room. My mother rushed out after them. I knew she was going to try to salvage the situation. Eventually, Carter and I were the only ones left in the private room. I stepped around him, preparing to leave. But as I passed him, his hand clamped down on my wrist like a vice. “Vivian, it’s been so long. Do you really have nothing to say to me?” I struggled, but couldn’t break free. He hadn’t changed a bit in six years. I sighed, exasperated. “Carter, stalking me won’t change anything. I said everything I needed to say six years ago.” He still refused to let go, but thankfully, my mother rushed back in at that exact moment. She shoved Carter away, pulling me behind her, eyeing him defensively. Without a word, she dragged me out the door. In the elevator, I expected my mom to interrogate me, but she didn’t ask a single question. Seeing my body trembling uncontrollably, she just wrapped me in a tight hug. “Vivian, Mom won’t let anyone bully you.” She smelled so comforting. I took a deep breath and nodded against her shoulder. But the moment we stepped out of the elevator, she clutched her chest and collapsed forward. My mother suffered from severe heart disease. In the blink of an eye, her face turned a terrifying shade of pale. I screamed for help. Carter, who had just stepped out of the neighboring elevator, saw what happened. He immediately rushed over, scooped my mother up in his arms, and sprinted toward the exit. In that moment, I threw all our past grudges out the window. I only prayed he could get her to a hospital in time. On the frantic ride there, Carter didn’t forget to comfort me. “Don’t be scared. She’ll be fine.” Years ago, in the pitch black, he had said those exact same words to me: “Don’t be scared, Vivian.” 4 Thankfully, we made it in time. The doctors stabilized her and said she was out of danger. When I went to the billing window, I realized I had left my purse behind in the chaos, and my phone was nowhere to be found. Just as I stood there panicking, Carter reached from behind me and handed a sleek black card to the nurse. I looked at him with genuine gratitude. “You saved her today. Thank you! I’ll pay you back later.” “The doctor said she’s going to be okay. You can go home now.” Carter stood silhouetted against the hospital lights. Hearing my words, his body went rigid. He let out a self-deprecating laugh. When he spoke again, his voice was chillingly cold. “Vivian Hayes. You use me when you need me, and you kick me to the curb the second you don’t. Six years ago and today… nothing’s changed, has it?” He wet his lips, leaning in close. “Do you really think I’m going to let you run away so easily this time?” The sweltering afternoon sun poured in from the window at the end of the hallway. Carter’s towering frame cast a heavy shadow over me. Just as I was struggling to find an answer, a sharp, crisp female voice shattered the eerie tension. “Carter.” The clicking of designer heels approached. Carter looked past my shoulder. I didn’t even need to turn around; just hearing that voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “I heard you were here, so I came to check on you.” The woman speaking was Regina Croft—the living nightmare of my youth. She stopped about three feet behind me, scanning me from head to toe before speaking with feigned uncertainty. “Vivian Hayes?” Great. She actually remembered me. I turned to look at Regina. Years had passed, and she was even more radiant and glamorous than before. Usually, beautiful people naturally draw others in, but I felt nothing but pure, visceral disgust for Regina. “I’ll pay you back later. I’m leaving.” Without another word to Carter, I turned on my heel. I didn’t want to spend a single extra second near them. My dismissive attitude clearly pissed Regina off. She called after me. “Vivian Hayes, you actually have the nerve to show your face in this city again?” I was no longer the timid, terrified little girl I used to be. I threw a cold smirk over my shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I? Because a ghoul like you lives here? Regina, we’re adults now. Can you grow up?” Of course, Regina was no longer the explosive, raging bully she used to be either. Everyone had changed. Everyone except Carter, who stubbornly clung to the past. I instinctively glanced at him, then steeled my resolve and walked away quickly. Behind me, I could hear Regina questioning him. “Carter, why are you still entangled with her? Did you forget what she did to you?” “You almost died because of her! And her? Did she even look back at you once?” My footsteps faltered. Was there something I didn’t know about what happened back then? But the past was the past. I had fought so hard to crawl out of that darkness; I didn’t dare stop and look back now. I felt a gaze following me down the hall until I turned the corner. Just before I disappeared, I heard Carter’s voice, cold as ice: “Shut your mouth.” 5 On the way to the hospital, I had been too worried about my mom to notice that Carter had brought us to an ultra-exclusive private hospital in the suburbs. It was impossible to hail a cab out here, and I didn’t have a dime on me. I had no choice but to head back inside to borrow a nurse’s phone to call a friend. But I had barely taken a step when a sleek black Bentley swerved in front of me, blocking my path back to the entrance. The window slowly rolled down. Carter was in the driver’s seat, one hand lazily gripping the steering wheel. “Get in.” I originally had zero intention of humoring him. But when I casually glanced up, I saw Regina standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window on the second floor, staring down at us. When our eyes met, a flash of memory hit me. Back then, she used to look at me with that exact same expression, right before dumping a tidal wave of abuse on me that I couldn’t endure. Sunlight works in mysterious ways. I felt like this moment mirrored the past perfectly. Suddenly, I smiled right at her, walked over to the Bentley, and slid into the passenger seat. Regina loved Carter. She was obsessed with him. She was back then, and she still was now. From the suburbs to the city center, the starry sky was eventually replaced by the neon glow of Manhattan. “Where do you live?” Carter was the first to break the silence, slowly pulling the car over to the side of the road. I only got into his car to spite Regina. It didn’t mean I wanted anything to do with him. “I’ll get out here. Thank you.” I was reaching for my seatbelt when the car suddenly lurched forward with a violent roar. I froze. I snapped my head to look at him. He was staring straight ahead, his face dark. “When you’re ready to tell me your address, I’ll take you home.” “Carter, stop acting like a child.” I pressed myself against the seat, taking a deep breath. “Don’t make things uglier between us.” The car shot forward again, then slammed to a brutal stop without warning. I thanked God it was late at night and the road was empty. “Did you forget who provoked who first?!” Before my head even stopped spinning from the whiplash, Carter unbuckled his seatbelt, lunged over the center console, and pinned me violently against the passenger seat, his hand gripping the back of my neck. He was so close that even in the dim streetlights, I could see the red rims of his eyes. “Why are things ugly between us? Isn’t this entirely your doing, Vivian?!” His mocking tone cracked, betraying a barely noticeable tremor. “You wouldn’t let me drive you home because you’re terrified I’ll stalk you?” “Vivian, don’t you think you overestimate yourself?” “I am Carter Sterling. What kind of woman can’t I have? Do you honestly think you’re irreplaceable?” He let go of me, threw himself back into the driver’s seat, and stared out his window. “Get out.” The second I stepped out of the car, as if to prove a point, the black Bentley peeled away from me like a rocket. In the blink of an eye, the taillights disappeared into the night. 6 The next morning, I asked my assistant to handle the hospital transfer paperwork for my mom. After work, I immediately drove out to pick her up. Before heading over, I tried calling her, but no one answered. I only relaxed when I peeked through the small window in her hospital room door and saw her sitting safely in her wheelchair, waiting for me. I opened the door and walked in. She whipped her head around, a flash of pure panic in her eyes. It wasn’t until she recognized me that her tension slowly melted away. I frowned, walking over. “Mom, what’s wrong?” “Nothing, I was just… thinking about something. You scared me opening the door so suddenly.” Her eyes darted around as she spoke, and she nervously fiddled with her hair. My heart sank. I knew that was her “tell” when she was lying. As she lifted her hand, the sleeve of her hospital gown slid down, exposing nasty dark bruises on her wrist. I grabbed her arm. “Where did these come from?” She kept stammering, refusing to tell me the truth. I looked around the room. The patient in the neighboring bed had already been moved. It was a massive VIP suite, and my mom was the only one in it. It was way too convenient that everyone else was suddenly “discharged” right after she moved in. I carefully examined her. Aside from her wrists, she had bruises on her back and legs too. I photographed every single one. Then I went to the nurses’ station to demand answers and asked to see the security footage. The nurses wouldn’t look me in the eye either. What started as a suspicion quickly morphed into certainty. When I ran into Regina here the other day, she was wearing a white lab coat. The hospital walls were lined with her accolades: “Genius surgeon,” “Ivy League prodigy,” “Award-winning researcher.” It wasn’t that I was assuming the worst of her; it was that she had been rotten to the core since we were kids. I marched straight to Regina’s office and threw the door open. She wasn’t surprised to see me. “You’re pretty protective of your mother, huh?” She wore a sickeningly fake smile that made me want to rip her face off. “Did you do this to my mom?” She tilted her head back and laughed, utterly unapologetic. “So what if I did? What are you going to do about it? I waited until no one was around, pushed her to the edge of the stairwell, and made sure she took a nice tumble.” “Vivian, I’m admitting it to your face. What are you gonna do? The security footage has already been wiped!” Her absolute fearlessness because of her privilege was probably her only consistent trait. Back in high school, every time she tormented me, she had that same smug look, knowing I was too powerless to fight back. But things were different now. I walked right up to her and slapped her across the face with everything I had. She stumbled backward. Before she could even lift her head, I backhanded her across the other cheek. “You dare hit me?!” I had noticed when I walked in—there were no security cameras in her private office. “Surprised?” I shook my stinging hand. “Did you really think I was scared of you back in school?” I attended an elite Manhattan prep school on a full ride. Not because my family had money. In fact, we were dirt poor. The school waived my tuition and offered a massive stipend. But the condition was that I had to maintain the #1 rank in my grade and couldn’t have a single disciplinary strike on my record. So, when Regina bullied me ruthlessly, I had to swallow my anger and take it. I stepped closer, grabbed a handful of her perfectly styled hair, and yanked her head back so she was forced to look up at me. “I warned you six years ago. Don’t mess with me.” “Did you think I let you off easy back then? Did you forget what I said?” Maybe remembering how unhinged I went back then brought back some trauma, because fear started creeping into her eyes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hand creeping toward her phone to make a call. I slapped the phone out of her hand, picked it up, and chucked it out the window. I grabbed a heavy metal pen off her desk, gripping it tightly, and walked slowly toward her. “S-sorry,” Regina suddenly stuttered out an apology. Hearing that, I laughed softly. I stopped, tossing the pen aside. “Since I’m the one who hit you, I should be the one apologizing.” I gave her a perfectly polite, formal bow. “I’m sorry, Regina. I shouldn’t have hit you.” I stood up straight. “Now, it’s your turn to go apologize to my mother.” Regina was frozen stiff by my terrifyingly calm smile. “Regina, you really don’t want anyone seeing you looking like this, do you? Be a good girl and wait right here for me to come back.” Watching her nod frantically, I smiled in satisfaction, turned the doorknob, and prepared to leave. But the moment I opened the door, I looked up and saw Carter standing right outside. Regina saw him too. She looked like a drowning woman spotting a life raft. “Carter, save me! Vivian’s insane, she’s trying to kill me!”

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My husband and I are in an arranged marriage. He’s incredibly busy, leaving him almost no time for me and our daughter. To keep myself occupied and stop my mind from wandering, I got a boyfriend. I told my boyfriend my daughter was my little sister. But just now, my daughter got hold of my phone and added both my boyfriend and my husband to a group chat. She even sent a voice message asking: “Which one of you is free to take me bike riding tomorrow?” 1 I stepped out of the shower just in time to see question marks pop up from both my husband and my boyfriend. I felt the blood drain from my face! My husband was an arranged match. We’ve been married for four years, have a three-year-old daughter, and rarely see each other. But he’s devastatingly handsome, incredibly successful, and makes a ton of money. Otherwise, I never would have agreed to marry him. After all, there’s a whole forest of options waiting for me out there. 2 Being with him, I thought, was pretty great. He’s mature, steady, and commands respect. He’s stoic and reserved, but in bed, he’s intensely dominant. The contrast is intoxicating; I can’t get enough of him. Basically, whenever he’s home, all I want to do is drag him to bed. You could definitely call it a physical attraction. But human greed knows no bounds. Not long after we got married, I got pregnant, had our baby, and devoted myself to taking care of her. Meanwhile, he remained as swamped with work as ever. 3 And me? Having been raised since childhood with the mindset that “important men shouldn’t be bothered while working,” I could only silently swallow my negative emotions. I didn’t even dare show them, for fear of annoying him. I had to be the “understanding” wife. Once my daughter started preschool, I suddenly had a lot of free time. So, I started playing video games. While gaming, I met a total pro. His skills were god-tier, and he carried me through matches. Not only did he make me feel like a badass in the game, but he also chatted with me constantly, and eventually, we got “married” in-game. I figured, sure, his voice sounded amazing, but in real life, he was probably some short, broke, ugly guy. I didn’t take it seriously; it was just a game, just for fun. 4 But the truth was, I really needed the company. So, I kept pretending he was my husband. We called each other “hubby” and “wifey” in the game. I don’t know what possessed me, but I even gave my avatar a pregnant belly. Then I told him we were having a baby together. He bought me a ton of in-game gear. 5 Initially, I didn’t add him on any social media because I was afraid of the hassle, and I was also worried my husband would find out I was gaming so much and think less of me. We kept all our chatting within the game. And, for some reason, even though my husband seemed so mature and normal, I caught him checking my phone on several occasions. It was like he was checking to see if I was cheating on him while he was away. It made me feel really uncomfortable at the time. What did he take me for? Only later did I realize he actually had great foresight. When a guy is constantly traveling for business, isn’t it highly likely his wife might stray? 6 Back to my boyfriend. After playing together for a few months, we became a very close “online couple.” He was gentle and considerate, and his voice was so deep and attractive it could make a girl swoon. I started relying on him a lot. Then, he asked to meet offline. He even sent me a picture of himself. 7 He was gorgeous. And not just regular gorgeous, but that rare, untamed, rebellious kind of gorgeous! Just to see if he was catfishing me, I agreed on the spot. At that time, I was also feeling incredibly empty. My husband was traveling more than ever. I felt like a machine. I desperately needed human emotional nourishment. When we met, I realized he was genuinely that handsome! Unlike my husband’s mature, steady, and stoic demeanor. My boyfriend radiated youth, rebellion, and a wild, untamed energy. Yet, this wild guy would lower his head, softly coax me, and ask why I was unhappy. He would cup my face and kiss me with intense focus. And then he would compliment me: “You smell like sweet milk.” 8 I loved both my boyfriend and my husband. Honestly, human beings are capable of loving two people at the same time. Love isn’t exclusively singular. Meeting my boyfriend offline filled the void left by my husband’s business trips and brought so much more joy into my life. He was still a college student. When we first met offline, he was a junior. Two years passed, and he was about to graduate. He had started his own business and was very successful. Now, the gifts he gave me were luxury cars and houses. Yes, we had a love nest. He even got a dog and said it was the “baby” we had in the game. 9 When you love someone, you desperately want to share your life with them, especially everything you cherish. I couldn’t share my husband with my boyfriend, so I could only share my daughter. But to rationalize my daughter’s existence. I told him a tragic backstory. Divorced parents, an irresponsible father who only knew how to cheat and have kids outside the marriage. I claimed my daughter was one of my father’s illegitimate children. No one took care of her, so I had to. I told him she was my little sister. My daughter is very sharp. She didn’t call me “Sister”; she called me by my name. 10 Recently, my husband hasn’t been traveling as much. He even makes time to play with our daughter. But he’s still very busy with work. So, I shuttle my daughter between the two of them. This way, someone is always keeping her company, the best of both worlds. But my daughter is only three. She doesn’t yet understand that her “Uncle” and her “Daddy” cannot know about each other’s existence. She only knows that if Daddy is busy, I take her to play with Uncle. And if Uncle is busy, it’s not as fun. She said she wanted to go bike riding tomorrow. My husband hadn’t come home yet, and tomorrow was the weekend. So I said: “Let’s wait for JJ to come home and see if he has time to take us? If JJ is busy, we’ll ask Cole.” (Translator’s Note: I’m replacing “Jin Jin” with “JJ” and “Jia Yan” with “Cole” for smoother reading in English.) 10 (continued) “JJ” is James, my husband, her father. “Cole” is Cole Evans, my boyfriend, her “uncle.” I never let her use titles; I just had her use their names. That way, I could avoid slipping up. In front of my husband, she would say: “Today Cole took us to the amusement park to ride the carousel and eat ice cream.” My husband was confused at first, but I told him Cole was my best friend. He assumed a “best friend” was definitely a woman. In front of my boyfriend, my daughter would say: “This morning JJ washed my face and put lotion on me.” My boyfriend was confused. I explained that JJ was our maid. Then I said we both have a lisp and trouble pronouncing certain sounds. The maid’s name is actually “Jane,” but it sounds like “JJ” when we say it. He knew my family was wealthy, just lacking love, so hiring a maid made sense. In front of my boyfriend, my daughter also called me: “Maya, hug me.” “Maya, wipe my hands.” 11 But I never anticipated that my daughter was so impatient. And that she knew how to use my phone. She sent a sweet, baby-voiced voice memo to the group chat: “Which one of you is free to take me bike riding tomorrow?” My boyfriend and my husband both instantly replied with a question mark. My daughter asked: “JJ, do you have to work overtime tomorrow?” Then I saw the replies that made my vision go black. My husband replied via voice memo: “Baby, you have to call me Daddy, not by my name.” “Daddy isn’t working overtime tomorrow; I can take you bike riding.” My boyfriend’s voice memo followed immediately: “Isn’t he your maid? Why is he saying he’s Calf’s dad?” (“Calf” was my daughter’s nickname.) Then they each sent another question mark. My daughter recognized my expression and cheered: “Maya, I asked! JJ has time tomorrow!” I instantly deleted the group chat. 12 By this time, my phone was already vibrating again. A direct message from my boyfriend arrived: “Your maid Jane is a guy? Why did he say he’s Calf’s dad?” I panicked and quickly explained: “He IS our dad. In my heart, he doesn’t deserve to be a father to me or my sister! He’s just a tool in the house. A total stud horse!” (I referred to my daughter as my sister. I couldn’t forget that to my boyfriend, my daughter was my sister!) A major screw-up was not an option. Once I got my story straight, I continued: “But my sister lacks love and still craves a father figure. Ugh, I don’t even want to talk about it.” I added: “I deleted the group. I don’t want my dad to know I’m dating. He’d definitely try to break us up; he’s counting on marrying me off for money.” My boyfriend sent a few hugging emojis, then said: “Baby, you’ve suffered so much.” I replied: “I have, but meeting you makes it all worth it.” 13 Having pacified my boyfriend, my heart was still in my throat. Why hadn’t my husband texted to ask me about it? I had already formulated an excuse in my head. A moment later, I heard the iron gate downstairs open, and my husband’s car drove in. My daughter was already asleep. I hurried to the master bathroom to run his bathwater. When I came out, he was already in the bedroom. His suit was immaculate. His stoic, handsome face was still as heart-stopping as ever. Every movement exuded a mature, steady aura. And the commanding presence of someone accustomed to being in charge. 14 I put on a bright smile: “Hubby, you’re home! The bath is ready. Have you eaten? Should I go make you something?” But he doesn’t eat after 8 PM. I was just being polite. Sure enough, his cool, textured voice replied: “I ate at the office. I’m going to shower.” I said: “I’ll get your pajamas.” He took off his watch, placed it on the coffee table, and asked casually: “Calf is asleep?” I nodded: “She’s asleep. She was so happy when you said you’d spend time with her tomorrow.” I felt anxious, waiting for him to ask me about the WeChat group, watching his expression closely. But he didn’t ask anything. His expression was the same as always, unreadable. Before stepping into the bathroom, he invited me: “Want to shower together?” I looked at his hard, handsome face, his broad shoulders and narrow waist, and his long legs wrapped in suit pants. Thinking of his stamina, I couldn’t help but swallow secretly, drawn to follow him into the bathroom… 15 The moment I stepped into the bathroom, he roughly pinned me against the door. His turbulent kisses engulfed me like a tidal wave… Just as I thought he didn’t care about the WeChat thing, this bastard decided to interrogate me at the most critical moment… Me: … “Who is he?” I said between gasps: “He, he’s my b-best friend Cole! D-didn’t you k-know?” He pinched my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were full of intimidation. I felt a little scared, hugged him, and whined: “Hubby, why don’t you believe me?” “I thought your best friend was a woman.” He said coldly: “So, you frequently take Calf to see a man?” 16 This animal. If he was going to ask, he should just ask. Why use physical force? I gritted my teeth and explained: “He likes guys.” My husband let out a short laugh. He didn’t say anything else, just continued to torment me. His laugh gave me the creeps. When I woke up the next day, it was almost noon. I was startled. My daughter hadn’t come to pester me to take her out to play. I rolled over to get up, but the movement was too big, and the soreness in my body made me wince. I picked up my phone to check my messages. 17 My husband had sent a video of my daughter riding her bike. My boyfriend had sent a message asking me out to dinner. Ever since I added my boyfriend on WeChat, I changed my phone password. My husband could no longer easily unlock my phone. I still remember the day I came out of the shower and saw him holding my phone, staring blankly at it. I actually felt guilty. I almost forgot how controlling he could be. At the time, he asked: “What’s your passcode?” I immediately deployed my prepared speech, saying married couples need privacy too, that I never check his phone, and asking him to respect me as well. I was almost loved to death that night. But I held my ground and refused to give him the passcode. 18 I told my boyfriend my dad was back and I couldn’t go out. I crafted a tragic narrative where my dad was forcing me into an arranged marriage for money. I couldn’t let my dad know I was dating. After handling my boyfriend and deleting the chat history, I went downstairs. Just in time to run into my daughter happily pulling my husband inside. Seeing me, my daughter ran over joyfully: “Maya Maya Maya Maya! JJ, Daddy, and I went bike riding. I rode so fast! Daddy couldn’t catch up!” JJ? Daddy? I felt a surge of guilt. Terrified my daughter would spill the beans to my husband. But I usually took her to play with my boyfriend, and my boyfriend and I never did anything intimate in front of her. She probably just thought he was an uncle. It should be fine, right??? I looked up at my husband and realized he was also looking at me, his gaze dark and penetrating. I felt a chill run down my spine. My husband then said seriously to my daughter: “Maya Jr., how did Daddy teach you to address people?” My daughter looked at my husband and happily raised her hand: “Calf should call JJ ‘Daddy’, and call Maya ‘Mommy’!” After saying that, she yelled at me: “Mommy Mommy Mommy Mommy!” Me: … 19 While eating lunch, my husband seemingly casually said to me: “By the way, Cole often helps take care of Calf. We should treat him to dinner.” After he finished, he just looked at me. My scalp went numb. My daughter cheered beside us: “Yay! Calf and Cole are good friends, and Cole and JJ… Daddy are good friends. Cole and Daddy can be good friends too! Right, Maya… Mommy?” I looked at her innocent face, thinking, Look how smart my daughter is! Her communication skills are so strong! I thought sadly, Did her little mouth just sell me out? I said naturally: “He’s out of town on a business trip recently. When he gets back, I’ll ask him.” My husband gave a short laugh.

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I crossed over into a novel while doing the deed with my billionaire husband, one of the most powerful men in New York. [Another one trying to conquer the villain? Hilarious.] [And dressing like a slut? The villain likes pure, innocent girls! This is totally going to fail.] [Arthur Sterling will eventually become a ruthless underworld boss who kills without blinking an eye.] I looked at the floating comments drifting past my eyes, then looked down at myself. A black deep-V dress plunging to my navel, the hem so short it barely covered my butt. Arthur begged me to wear this last night. He was on his knees on the bed, his eyes completely red. “Wife, just wear it this once, I’ll transfer ten million to your account.” 1 I reluctantly put it on. And then he tossed me around until midnight. Now look what happened. I wake up, and the Arthur standing before me, fresh out of the shower and wrapped in a towel, looks at me like he’s seen a ghost. “Who are you?” I was furious. What? He pulls his pants up and suddenly doesn’t know me?! “What do you mean who am I! I’m your wife!” The moment the words left my mouth, I was the one who froze. What kind of dump was this? Peeling paint, drafty windows, furniture that looked like it was scavenged from a dumpster. Where was my California King-sized luxury bed? Where was my bathtub that could fit five people? Arthur’s face was right in front of me. No scar on his temple, no weathering from the years on his face—only the cold, sharp alertness of youth. I reached out, cupped his face, and inspected it left and right. “Hubby, did you sneak off and get Thermage done behind my back?” Which clinic did he go to? The results are suspiciously good! Before I knew it, Arthur slapped my hands away, his gaze sharp as a knife. “I’ll ask you one more time—who are you?” 2 I calmed down. I took a closer look at the calendar on the wall. Five years ago. Which meant the guy standing in front of me was Arthur before he made his fortune. The dirt-poor Arthur. I took a deep breath, thinking of the Arthur from five years in the future. How glamorous he was then. Bodyguards followed him everywhere, crowds surrounded him at meetings, but when he came home, he was as obedient as a cat. When I threw tantrums, he coaxed me; when I whined, he spoiled me. If I said I wanted a star from the sky, he’d actually go buy me a meteorite fragment. Such a massive rock, sitting right in the middle of our living room. My heart ached just thinking about how much it cost. “Hubby, how much did this cost?” He was peeling an apple for me, not even looking up: “Not much.” “What does ‘not much’ mean?” He thought about it: “Only about ten million, give or take.” I almost passed out. “Are you crazy, Arthur?” He looked up at me, his eyes innocent. “Didn’t you say you wanted a star?” I was stumped. “I just said that casually!” He smiled, offering the peeled apple to my mouth. “Even if you say it casually, I take it seriously.” I looked at the eighteen-year-old boy in front of me now. I blinked and put on my standard, professional fake smile. “Little boy, let me ask you: how much money do you make a month right now?” 3 Arthur frowned: “None of your damn business.” “Of course it’s my business.” I circled him, looking him up and down. “If you don’t have money in the future, I’m not staying with you.” Arthur let out a cold sneer and turned toward the bathroom. “Psycho.” With lightning reflexes, I grabbed his towel. The towel dropped to the floor. The air froze for three seconds. Arthur’s face turned visibly red all the way to the tips of his ears. “You!” I looked down, nodding in satisfaction. “Mhm, the size checks out. This is definitely my husband.” [???????] [What the hell is this woman doing???] [LMAO, the villain just got completely exposed hahahaha] Arthur scrambled to pick up the towel and wrap it around himself, his eyes looking like he wanted to eat me alive. “What exactly are you trying to do!” I crossed my legs and sat on his creaky, broken bed. “I told you, I’m your wife.” “You don’t believe me? Then let me ask you: do you have a mole on your left butt cheek?” Arthur’s expression shifted. I continued: “You like it when I put my legs on your right shoulder, don’t you? “You love it most when we do it in front of the mirror, and you make me call you ‘hubby,’ and the moment I do, you…” “Enough!” Arthur cut me off, his voice cracking. He stared at me for a long time, finally asking through gritted teeth: “Are… are you really my future wife?” I nodded elegantly: “Mhm-hmm.” “Then tell me, will I have money in the future?” I laughed. Is that even a question? “You’ll be filthy rich.” “How rich?” I thought about it: “Last month, you transferred five million dollars to me just because I said a new handbag looked nice.” Arthur’s eyes lit up. But he quickly masked his expression and let out a cold hmph. “So you only came to me for my money?” I paused. That was a good question. I didn’t answer, instead asking him: “How much do you make a month?” Arthur was silent for a moment. “Five hundred.” I almost laughed out loud. Five hundred? I normally spend more than five hundred just on a single lipstick. I stood up, walked right up to him, and poked him in the chest. “Little boy, right now you make five hundred bucks, and I’m still standing right here. “Tell me, what exactly am I after?” 4 Arthur was stunned. The floating comments went crazy: [Holy shit, this woman knows what she’s doing] [The villain’s heart rate is going up!] [Wait, wasn’t she just acting super disgusted a minute ago???] Arthur was silent for a long time, then he turned his head away, his voice muffled. “You… put some clothes on first.” I looked down at my deep-V dress. “What, feeling shy?” Arthur’s ears were so red they looked like they were bleeding. [Ding— Villain Affection +10. Current Affection: 10] [WTF, what kind of chaotic strategy is this??] [Is this the legendary ‘innocence is worthless in the face of sex appeal’?] [Hah. Men.] I don’t know if Arthur believed me or not, but I stayed anyway. I batted my eyelashes and whined, wearing down all his resistance. Even though this dump didn’t even have heating. Even though this broken bed was so hard it hurt my bones. Even though Arthur left early and came back late every day, leaving me an allowance of only ten dollars. Ten dollars! I held that crumpled bill, lost in thought. The last time I saw a physical ten-dollar bill was in my past life. It had been a long time since I spent such small denominations; it actually felt like a novelty. Before Arthur left, he gave me a look. “Spend it carefully.” I pouted. Carefully? The word ‘careful’ doesn’t exist in Maya Sterling’s dictionary. 5 I went out with the ten dollars, walked around, and bought a boba tea. Seven dollars gone. Then I bought a slice of cake. Three dollars gone. On my way home, I passed by a menswear store and saw a sweater in the display window. I suddenly remembered that five years later, Arthur had an identical one. He bought that sweater himself. Once, I asked him: “When did you buy this one? It looks nice.” He glanced down at it and said casually, “A long time ago. I just couldn’t bear to throw it away.” I didn’t think much of it then. Now I suddenly understood. So this was when he bought it. I stood in front of the window, staring at it for a long time. I patted my pocket and realized I didn’t have my black card. I pulled out my phone to call Arthur, only to remember this was five years ago—he didn’t have my number yet, and I couldn’t use Apple Pay. Whatever. I turned to leave, took two steps, and looked back. That sweater was light grey. Arthur would look really good in it. 6 When Arthur came home that night, I was curled up on the sofa, shivering. The broken house was drafty. Back at the estate, the heating was on throughout the entire mansion, and I could run around barefoot. I hadn’t felt the sting of the cold in a very long time. He looked at the empty table. “You didn’t eat dinner?” “I ate.” “What did you eat?” “Boba and cake.” Arthur’s face darkened. “You call that food?” I was entirely justified. “That’s what I usually eat.” Arthur took a deep breath, turned around, and walked into that cramped, dingy kitchen. … Ten minutes later, he brought out a bowl of noodles. It was just plain broth and noodles, with a fried egg on top. I looked at it with disgust. “That looks terrible. Even a dog wouldn’t eat that.” Arthur slammed the bowl down in front of me. “If you don’t eat it, then starve.” Then he went into the bathroom. I stared at that bowl of noodles for a long time. Finally, I picked it up and ate it anyway. Damn, it’s actually really good. By the time Arthur came out, the bowl was empty. I was curled up on the sofa, pretending to be asleep. He stood there watching me for a while. Then, I felt a piece of clothing, still carrying body heat, draped over me. It was his jacket. A worn-out, faded, but very warm jacket. I secretly peeked open one eye. Arthur had his back to me, standing by the window. The moonlight hit him; his shoulders looked so thin it made my heart ache. [Affection +5. Current Affection: 15] [Conqueror, you actually tricked the villain into giving you his jacket!] [This is rare. The villain is actually softening up!] I ignored the comments. I just made a mental note. When we have money, I’ll buy Arthur ten jackets. No, a hundred. 7 Days passed one by one. Arthur left early and came back late every day, and I had absolutely nothing to do all day. The floating comments started mocking me. [Is this conqueror actually going to do anything, or just lie around the house all day?] [Other conquerors are out there delivering warmth and care; this one just waits for the villain to come home and serve her.] [LMAO, she’s definitely going to fail.] I ignored them. My life goal was to be Arthur’s pampered canary anyway. What’s wrong with lying around? My husband supports me; it’s the natural order of things. But one day, as Arthur was leaving, I casually asked: “Where are you going?” “To work.” “What kind of work?” He paused. “Construction site. Hauling bricks.” I froze. Hauling bricks? I opened my mouth, wanting to say something. But Arthur had already left. That night, he came back very late. His hands were covered in bloody blisters. I saw them, but I didn’t say anything. I just waited until he fell asleep, then secretly got up, dug out his ointment, and carefully applied it for him. As I rubbed it in, I thought of another pair of hands. Five years later, the hands that frequently held mine. The palms were full of calluses, the knuckles thick, but they were dry and warm. Every time I threw a tantrum, he would use those hands to gently hold me. Every time I was sad, he would use those hands to wipe away my tears. Once, I stared at his hands for a long time. “Hubby, why are your hands so rough?” He looked down at them: “From working.” I frowned: “You’re so rich and prestigious, what kind of work made them like this?” He just smiled and didn’t answer. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Now, I suddenly understood. It was from hauling bricks. Those calluses were born from these bloody blisters. As I applied the ointment, my nose suddenly started to sting. 8 I grew up in a single-parent household, moving from place to place with my mom. Because I didn’t have a dad, I was often bullied. So, when I transferred schools, I deliberately built a persona of a wealthy heiress so no one would dare mess with me. Over time, I started deceiving even myself. Vain and materialistic. When Arthur first offered to be my sugar daddy, I agreed very quickly. It was just an exchange: I wanted money, he wanted my looks. Very fair. Compared to going hungry and being bullied, there was nothing to be ashamed of. But I never expected that Arthur wasn’t born a wealthy heir. Arthur’s brow was furrowed; he was sleeping very fitfully. I gently stroked his face. … The next day, when Arthur woke up and saw the ointment applied to his hands, he froze. He shot me a look. I pretended not to notice, continuing to curl up on the sofa and play on my phone. Arthur didn’t say anything. But before he left, he put a twenty-dollar bill on the table. Double the usual amount. [Affection +10. Current Affection: 25] [The villain seems… to care a little about this woman?] I rolled over. Duh. How could my husband not care about me? 9 I started trying to be a bit nicer to Arthur. “Arthur, I bought you a sweater!” I pulled out the gift, looking for praise. Arthur looked at the light grey sweater, then checked the price tag. “Sixty dollars?” “Yeah, looks good, right?” “Where did you get the money?” I was entirely justified: “The living expenses you gave me. I saved it up.” Arthur was silent for a moment. “How long did you save for?” I thought about it: “About a week.” “Then what did you eat for a week?” “The late-night takeout you brought back.” Arthur’s expression was incredibly complicated. Finally, he put the sweater on. It fit perfectly. I nodded in satisfaction: “Looks good.” Arthur looked down at himself, then back at me. “You… why are you being so nice to me?” I looked at the eighteen-year-old Arthur standing in front of me. Wearing the sweater I bought, his ears were red, and his gaze was both awkward and soft. I froze for a second. Why? Because I’m your wife. But as the words reached my lips, I remembered something else. 10 In the first year of our marriage, I caught a fever once. Arthur happened to be out of town on business and couldn’t make it back in time. Over the phone, his voice was frantic: “I’ll have someone take you to the hospital.” “No need, I already took some medicine.” “Are you sure?” “I’m sure. Focus on your work.” He was silent for a moment: “Wife, I’m sorry.” I laughed: “Sorry for what?” “For not being there with you.” “Oh, please, it’s just a fever. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” He was still worried. The next day, I received a massive pile of deliveries. Fever reducers, thermometers, heating pads, and my favorite strawberry cake. He had someone send a whole box of them. Later, I found out he stayed up all night, constantly making calls, trying to find someone to take care of me. I asked him: “Was all that really necessary?” He hugged me: “Yes.” “Anything involving you is necessary.” I suddenly understood a little. The reason he was so good at caring for someone was that he used to have absolutely nothing. Because he never had anything, he treasured what he had even more. I reached out and pinched his cheek. “Because you’re my future husband. “You’re going to be very rich one day. I’m being good to you now, so you can support me later.” Arthur’s expression stiffened. Then he smiled. The smile was a bit bitter. “Okay.” “Then I’ll work hard, to support you later.” [Affection +10. Current Affection: 35] [Wait, why does the villain look a bit hurt?] I didn’t care. I was telling the truth, anyway.

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For as long as I can remember, my dad was the undisputed Hide-and-Seek Champion of our neighborhood. He always found the most impossible spots. He’d vanish completely, only to pop out grinning the second I finally yelled, “I surrender!” I got used to not being able to find him. I knew the rules. As long as I gave up, he’d appear. Then came that day. The day patrol cars lined the streets, and sirens wailed through the night. It felt like the whole city was looking for him. Everyone’s face was set in grim exhaustion. Everyone except me. I was buzzing with excitement. I remember proudly thinking, Daddy’s too good at this. Even the cops can’t find him. But when a detective in a suit handed my mom his badge and ID, she collapsed onto the floor. She screamed, a raw, soul-shattering sound that echoed through the house. I pulled on her sleeve, confusing gnawing at my stomach. “Mommy, is the game over? Did Daddy win?” She grabbed me, sobbing into my shoulder, barely able to choke out the words. “Maya, Daddy’s not coming back. Not ever.” I squeezed the old, marked-up map in my pocket and shook my head. You’re wrong, I thought. He told me. Only I can find the final treasure. But nobody believed me. They said I was just trauma-stricken, that I missed him too much to accept the truth. Later, Mom started throwing Dad’s things away. She told me I had to forget. They all gave up. But I didn’t. Dad is still waiting for me, and I’m going to find him. 1 “Maya, say hello to Mr. Miller.” I looked up, staring at the man in front of me. He had a tight smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes. His name was Robert Miller. He was my mom’s new boyfriend. “I got you the new Barbie, the dreamhouse edition,” he said, pushing a beautifully wrapped box toward me. His smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Do you like it?” I didn’t look at the box. My gaze shifted to the boy hiding behind Robert’s leg. He was half a head shorter than me, gripping Robert’s jacket. He shot me a look of pure provocation. I lowered my head, my fingers tracing the edges of the old map in my pocket. It was the last thing Dad gave me. The only clue to where he was hiding. My mom’s face went stiff. “Maya, Robert is talking to you.” Robert quickly waved it off. “It’s fine, Liz. Kids take time to adjust.” He squatted down, trying to meet my eye level. “Maya, I know you miss your dad. But we have to move forward, sweetheart.” “Liz and I, and Leo here—we’re all going to be here for you, okay? Like a family.” I snapped my head up, glaring at him with icy intensity. “My dad is just playing a game,” I said, my voice shaking but firm. “He’s coming back.” Robert’s fake smile froze. Mom sighed, pulling me aside. “Maya, stop this. Dad is—” “He’s not dead!” I screamed, cutting her off. “He’s waiting for me to find him!” Robert’s son, Leo, suddenly pointed at me and bust out laughing. “Stupid! Your dad’s dead and buried! My dad is your dad now!” Something inside me snapped. I was like a wild animal pushed into a corner. I lunged at him. The living room dissolved into chaos. Screaming, crying, and the sounds of breaking glass. It ended with Mom locking me in my room. Through the door, I could hear Leo sobbing, Mom trying to soothe him, and Robert playing the peacemaker. “She’s just a kid, Liz. Don’t be too hard on her.” “I shouldn’t have let Leo say that. It’s my fault for not teaching him better.” “We’re going to be a family soon. We have to learn to get along.” I leaned against the door, slowly sliding down to the floor. I pulled out the map and unfolded it. Dad, they all say you’re dead. They’ve all given up. But I know the truth. This is just the biggest, hardest game of hide-and-seek we’ve ever played. You’re waiting for me. And I’m coming to find you. Soon. 2 Robert and Leo. They were like two nails, hammered forcefully into the life Mom and I had built. Dad’s old home office was gutted and turned into Leo’s playroom. The picture of Dad in his dress blues on the wall was taken down, replaced by a “family portrait” of the four of us. In the photo, Mom and Robert were leaning into each other, smiling widely. Leo was next to me, flashing a peace sign, looking utterly smug. And there I was, stone-faced, staring at the camera like a total outsider. “Look, Maya,” Mom said, her voice hopeful. “Now it actually looks like a real home.” I said nothing. I just turned and went back to my room. I was becoming a ghost in my own house. All I did was study Dad’s map. It was a map of the old downtown area, covered in strange symbols he’d drawn over the years. Stars, crescent moons, random strings of numbers and letters. They were our secret code. “Maya, dinner! Stop wasting your time in there with that garbage!” Mom’s voice banged against the door, tight with exasperation. I hid the map under my mattress and walked out. At the table, Robert kept piling food onto Mom’s plate. Leo was buzzing around, bragging about his new school certificate like a fly that wouldn’t go away. “Mom, Liz, the teacher said I have the best imagination in class!” Leo slammed a drawing down on the table, looking proud. It was a crayon drawing of a police officer getting crushed under the foot of a giant monster. The officer’s face had been aggressively crossed out with a thick red marker. My stomach dropped. My vision blurred. “Leo!” Mom’s voice actually cracked with severity. Leo jumped, but immediately pouted. “What? It’s true. He’s just a useless, dead cop.” “Shut up!” I grabbed my glass of milk and threw it directly in his face. Leo froze for two full seconds, stunned by the cold liquid, before exploding into ear-piercing shrieks. “You ruined my drawing! I’m gonna tear up your stupid map!” He screamed, scrambling off his chair and sprinting toward my room like a maniac. My heart nearly stopped. I tried to run after him, but Robert caught me by the arm, his grip bruising. “Maya, how could you do that to your brother!” Through the apartment, I heard the sickening sound of paper tearing. I ripped my arm away from Robert and ran to my room. My map. It was torn in half. I stared at the pieces on the floor. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. “Maya Anne Quinn! Look at what you’ve done! Apologize to Leo right now!” Mom’s angry roar came from behind me. I slowly lifted my head, looking at the three of them standing in the doorway. They looked like a family. And I was just an intruder. “Get out.” “Get the hell out of my room.” 3 After that night, I effectively became the “Invisible Girl” of the house. I used clear tape to carefully piece the map back together, inch by inch. Every symbol felt like Dad was whispering clues directly to me. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to activate the “treasure map.” The first marker was a star, drawn over the downtown public library. Dad used to take me there every weekend. He told me knowledge was the brightest star in the night sky. I lied to Mom, saying I was going to a friend’s house, and slipped away to the library. I followed his handwritten code: “A13-7.” I found the section, then the aisle. Row 13, shelf 7. It was an old, beaten-up copy of The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Our absolute favorite. My heart was banging against my ribs. I opened the book, flipping through the pages, careful not to attract attention. On page 137, I found it. Scrawled in the margin in extremely faint pencil, was a locker number and a combination code. I swallowed a gasp of pure joy. I broke into a run, heading straight for the Greyhound bus terminal in the city center. I stood in front of the locker. I took a deep breath, my hands shaking as I dialed in the code. Click. The metal door swung open. There was no Barbie doll. No secret stash of my favorite candy. Just a small, black metal box. I clutched the box to my chest and ran all the way back to the old apartment. We hadn’t sold it yet, and I still had my key. It was the only safe place I could think of. I locked myself in. The box had a tiny combination lock. The combination was Dad’s badge number. I dialed it in, easy. The lock opened. Inside was a key and a small USB drive. Underneath the drive, there was a sticky note. It was Dad’s handwriting. Fast, messy, energetic. To my little detective: Congratulations on passing Level One. The real game starts now. Remember, Game Rule #1: Trust no one. I clutched the sticky note, and the tears finally came. Dad. I knew it. I knew you were playing a game. I wiped my face and plugged the USB drive into my laptop. It held a single, encrypted file. The password prompt was: “My favorite song.” I didn’t even have to think about it. I typed in “The Downeaster ‘Alexa’” by Billy Joel. It was the song he always sang in the car, full volume. He said being a cop was like being a fisherman on a stormy sea—you had to be brave, or the waves would swallow you whole. The file decrypted. It was an audio file. I put on headphones and clicked play. It wasn’t Dad’s voice. It was a raspy, unfamiliar voice. “…The shipment is in. We do the deal at the old spot.” “Is the situation with Detective Quinn handled?” “Don’t worry. It’s tight. Internal Affairs is ruling it accidental line-of-duty. Nobody is looking closer.” “What about the kid?” “She’s a brat, fifteen. She’s not going to make waves. That map, though… we need to find it before she realizes what it is.” Everything went white. It felt like a bomb had gone off in my head. This wasn’t a game. 4 “Maya, what are you doing in there? Come out and eat dinner!” Mom’s voice banged against the door of the old apartment. I jumped violently, my heart leaping into my throat. I yanked the USB drive out of the port. I ran to the mirror, staring at the ghost staring back at me. My face was completely drained of color. Calm down. Maya Quinn, you have to be calm. Dad always said, The more dangerous the situation, the calmer you have to be. I took a shaky breath, forced my face into a neutral expression, and opened the door. “Coming, Mom.” At the dinner table back at the new house, Robert was playing the loving stepfather, loading food onto my plate. “Maya, honey, you need to eat more. You’re getting too thin.” He gave me that crinkled-eye smile. The same face that, just moments ago on the audio file, had sounded like a raw-throated monster. The raspy voice on the recording… it was distorted, but that unique, patronizing rhythm… it was Robert. It was definitely Robert. “Thanks, Robert.” I lowered my head, staring at the pasta on my plate, pretending to eat. “So, Maya,” Robert said, his voice casual, almost bored. “Your dad used to be into puzzles, right? I heard rumors he might have left you some kind of crazy scavenger hunt or something?” My hand jerked. My fork fell onto the floor, the metal clattering loudly in the sudden silence. Mom frowned, her mouth tight. ” Scavenger hunt? What are you talking about, Robert? It was just a stupid marked-up downtown map that she scribbles on. I told her to throw it away weeks ago.” “Threw it away? Oh, that’s a shame. I love a good puzzle.” I bent down to pick up my fork, my mind racing. He knows. He’s looking for the map. Later that night, I lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. The key I found in the metal box… what did it open? The “old spot” mentioned on the audio… where was that? Dad’s note said: Game Rule #1: Trust no one. But what was Rule #2? I sat up, pushing the covers off. I sat at my desk, turned on the small lamp, and unfolded the taped-up map. I stared at it, symbol by symbol. I couldn’t miss a single detail. In the bottom right corner, there was a tiny moon drawn in two different colors. Half was blue, half was red. I’d always assumed Dad had just grabbed the wrong marker when he drew it. But now… I remembered something. I opened my school bag and pulled out my student ID. The school logo on the back was a red and blue half-moon crescent shape. It represented “The moon reflecting on the bay.” Dad had hidden the next clue at my high school! My whole body started to shake with adrenaline. But the high school was massive. Where would I even begin to look? I stared at the map again, my brain working overtime. Next to the moon symbol, there was a string of numbers: “20100901.” September 1st, 2010. That was my birthday. Dad was using my birthday as a code. Birthday… The day the school was built? No. I suddenly remembered a huge assembly we had. Dad had been honored as a distinguished alumnus and had donated a massive collection of books to the school library. They even held a dedication ceremony. Right on the wall of the Alumni Hall of Fame. Under Dad’s photo, there was a small brass plaque. The dedication date carved into the brass was September 1st, 2010! Dad deliberately chose my birthday for the dedication date! The clue was in the Hall of Fame! 5 The next day, I lied again, saying I was going to an after-school study group. I knew the school’s blind spots. I avoided the cameras and slipped into the Hall of Fame. It didn’t take long to find Dad’s photo. He was in his dress blues, looking powerful and resolute. Dad. I’m here. I said it silently to myself. I carefully checked the brass plaque below the photo. It was held by security screws. It looked perfectly normal. I tapped on it with my knuckle. A solid thud. The clue wasn’t on the plaque. Then where? My gaze shifted back to the photo itself. Dad was holding his right hand over his chest. His index and middle fingers were positioned strangely, forming a shape. It wasn’t a peace sign. It looked more like… a number “7.” Seven? What does that mean? I backed up, looking around the entire hall. There were displays of school history everywhere. Trophies, old uniforms, original textbooks… My eyes finally landed on a row of display cases along the side wall. The seventh case. Inside, there were items from ” distinguished past students.” Models, artwork, old newspaper clippings… In the far corner of that case, I saw a small drawing. The signature in the corner: A. Quinn. My dad’s initials! Anthony Quinn. The drawing was of a night sky, but the symbols—stars, moons—they were the exact same style as on my map. In the bottom right corner of the drawing, there was a barely visible comet streaking across the paper. The comet’s tail pointed straight toward the edge of the frame. My heart hammered. I carefully lifted the glass edge of the display—it wasn’t locked. Nobody ever touched this stuff. I picked up the drawing and turned it over. On the back of the cheap frame, someone had used a blade to carve a tiny, deep groove. And inside that groove was a folded-up sticky note. I opened it, my hands trembling. There was just one line of text: Safe deposit box at State St. Bank. The key in your hand is the key to the treasure. The key from the metal box! I quickly put the drawing back and closed the display case. Just as I turned to leave, the heavy doors of the Hall of Fame pushed open. My soul nearly left my body. I dove behind a massive display board. It was Robert. He looked hurried. He walked directly up to Dad’s photo. He mimicked my actions from earlier—he knocked on the plaque, looked at the photo, his brows furrowed in intense confusion. He obviously didn’t understand Dad’s finger signal. He paced around irritably, then pulled out his phone and made a call. “…I haven’t found it yet.” “Yeah, the brat came to school today. I followed her here.” “She’s definitely smart, she knows something.” Whatever the person on the other end said made Robert’s expression turn ugly. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it out of her.” “She’s just a fifteen-year-old kid. You think she can outsmart me?” He hung up, cursed under his breath, and marched out. I leaned back against the display board, cold sweat running down my back. He really was tracking me. This wasn’t a game. It was a race against a murderer. And I had to get to that safe deposit box before he found me. I gripped the key tightly in my pocket. Dad, I got this. I’m not going to let them win. This game… we’re going to be the Hide-and-Seek Champions, together. 6 I couldn’t go home. Not to that house. It wasn’t my home anymore. It was just a prison guarded by a monster. I needed help. Dad’s note in the library had said, “A-13-7,” pointing to page 137 of Sherlock Holmes. I suddenly remembered—there was more scrawled in faint pencil in the margin of that page. Below the locker combo, it had said: “IA. Detective Davies.” Davies. I recognized that name. The night Dad was “killed,” Detective Davies had been the one who handed Mom Dad’s badge. He had patted my head and said, “Maya, your father was a hero. Be strong, okay?” IA. Internal Affairs. Dad was trying to tell me who I could trust. But I didn’t have his number. And I couldn’t use my phone—Robert was definitely tracking it. My only hope was the USB drive. Wait. What if the USB drive was a trap? What if Robert left it for me to find, to lead me to the police, where I’d be forced to hand it over? Game Rule #1: Trust no one. That was the first rule of the game. Could I even trust Detective Davies? I sat on a park bench, the sun setting, casting long shadows across the grass. I was hungry, my stomach growling, but I didn’t have any money. I had to figure this out. I couldn’t make a single mistake. The park lights hummed to life. A city maintenance worker pushed a trash cart past me. She had an old radio clipped to her belt, and a news bulletin was playing. “…Police are issuing an Amber Alert for Maya Quinn, age 15. She was last seen leaving high school yesterday afternoon. Her mother, Liz Miller, is begging for her return…” Mom had called the cops. Or rather, Robert had. It was a tactic to flush me out. I pulled my baseball cap lower and got up to leave. Suddenly, another news story on the radio made me stop dead in my tracks. “…City Police Captain David Rodriguez is holding a press conference today on the ‘Community Policing Initiative’ at the Central Police Station downtown…” Rodriguez! I remembered. IA, and Rodriguez… they worked on the same floor. If I could get to Central Station and find Davies, maybe I could get to Rodriguez too! I didn’t have a car, I didn’t have money for a cab, so I ran. I ran until my lungs burned. Halfway there, a terrifying thought hit me. Even if I meet Detective Davies, how do I prove any of this is real? Robert has contacts in Internal Affairs—that was on the audio! If Davies isn’t who Dad thinks he is, he’ll just hand me right over to Robert… I stopped running, leaning against a lamp post, gasping for air. No. I can’t be reckless. Davies might not believe me. I need something that will make him believe me instantly, something that shows him how dangerous this really is. My eyes fell on the old map in my pocket. Dad always said, The map is the heart of the mystery. On the map, besides the stars and moons, there was one symbol that was different from all the others. A shield. Dad told me a shield represented protection and trust. That symbol was drawn over an old, abandoned warehouse down by the docks. The audio recording had mentioned “the spot.” What if that shield symbol was the key to proving everything? A dangerous plan started to take shape in my mind. I was going to that warehouse. And I was going to find the real evidence.

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I was the charity case, the poor student sponsored by the wealthy Sterling family. At twenty-two, I married Carter Sterling because I was pregnant. Carter was a notoriously severe germaphobe. He used separate serving spoons at dinner and refused to kiss me on the lips in bed. He even found it repulsive to drink from a glass I had used. But at a party recently, I watched him intercept a drink for his childhood sweetheart, his “one who got away,” downing the very glass she had just sipped from to save her from drinking too much. In that moment, I knew our marriage was over. 01 Carter stumbled through the front door, leaning heavily against me. He had intercepted far too many drinks for Serena Hayes, and by now, he was barely coherent. Before we left the party, Serena had looked at me, her face the picture of innocent guilt. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Miller. It’s all my fault Carter drank so much.” “It’s just that… I got a little too drunk once and almost kissed another guy. Ever since then, Carter absolutely refuses to let me drink too much.” Her hand had continuously stroked Carter’s chest, smoothing his shirt. She even had the nerve to remind me to make him honey water when we got home. I thought to myself, if it were any other woman, she would have slapped Serena across the face right then and there. But I just calmly took Carter’s weight and said absolutely nothing. It wasn’t that I was a saint who could endure anything; it was just that I knew I had no right to act like a jealous wife. Eventually, I poured Carter a glass of plain water. Even in his drunken stupor, as he took the glass, he instinctively asked: “Whose glass is this?” “Yours.” I replied flatly. Only then did he relax and drink it down. I knew about Carter’s germaphobia from the very beginning. Shortly after we got married, he had a sudden, severe stomach ache and was looking for his medication. In my panic, I grabbed my own water glass, filled it, and handed it to him. When Carter realized what I’d done, he was furious. He threw the glass, shattering it against the wall. “Haven’t I told you I don’t use other people’s glasses?!” That was the first time I had ever seen him so angry. I was terrified, standing off to the side, not daring to make a sound. Seeing my reaction, his tone involuntarily softened: “It’s not you. I just have a habit of not sharing things. Just be careful from now on.” But in that VIP booth tonight, sharing with Serena came so naturally to him. It turned out he didn’t have a habit of not sharing things; he just only shared with Serena. That realization made the tip of my nose sting. It wasn’t that I didn’t know Serena existed. She had just been living overseas for years. And Carter never brought her up on his own. He treated everyone, including me, with polite, detached courtesy. I figured I could live the rest of my life like that. But now, I had seen what he looked like when he actually loved someone. All the grievances I had convinced myself didn’t matter suddenly crashed over me like a tidal wave. They nearly drowned me. I suddenly felt so incredibly tired. Maybe… I didn’t have to endure this anymore. Maybe leaving would be better for both of us. 02 After helping Carter to his room, I went back to my own room to wash up. We normally slept in separate bedrooms. He only came to my room on the first and fifteenth of every month. Under the guise of fulfilling his “marital duties.” But whenever he got drunk, he would throw a childish tantrum, demanding to sleep with me, wrapping his arms around me and refusing to let go. Just like he was doing right now. I have no idea how he even managed to stumble into my room. I had barely laid down when a pair of large arms suddenly clamped around me. By the time I reacted, I was already locked tightly against his chest. He let out a satisfied sigh and fell asleep. In the past, even though I hated the smell of alcohol, I would have convinced myself to just let it go and sleep like this. After all, the debt of gratitude I owed the Sterling family was too massive. But tonight, I didn’t want to endure it. I struggled and wrenched myself out of his grip. Since he liked this bed so much, I’d go sleep in another room. The Sterling mansion had plenty of them, anyway. But as soon as I stepped out, I saw Leo standing in the hallway. He was peering anxiously into the room, clearly worried about Carter. I smiled, crouching down to rub his head: “Leo, why are you still awake? Don’t you have kindergarten tomorrow? Go to bed, sweetie.” But Leo violently slapped my hand away. He glared at me with eyes identical to Carter’s, full of disgust. “Chloe, you have no right to tell me what to do.” That’s right, Chloe. Not Mom. Ever since someone at school called him a bastard child. And he found out I only got to marry into the Sterling family because I got pregnant with him, Leo had hated me. He forgot how I stayed awake night after night sitting by his bed when he was sick. He forgot how he used to curl up in my arms, whining that he loved Mommy the most. Now, his greatest wish was that I wasn’t his mother at all. Watching his small back disappear into his room, I let out a quiet sigh, stood up, and headed to the guest room down the hall. As soon as I closed the door, I called my old boss, Valerie. “Valerie, I’ve made up my mind. I want to go to Paris with you.” 03 Valerie paused for a second on the other end of the line, then her voice pitched up in surprise: “Really? That’s amazing, Chloe! Get your visa sorted this month, and once I wrap things up here, we’ll fly out.” My college major was actually fashion design. I had worked under Valerie for years. Even after getting married, I freelanced, submitting design sketches for her label. Recently, she was preparing to take her core team and jump ship to a major international fashion house. She really wanted me to go with her. At first, I hesitated. For someone who grew up as an orphan, having a family was everything. I didn’t want my child to lose his mother at such a young age. But looking at things now… Leo didn’t want a mother like me anyway. And I finally realized, the definition of family was never about the number of people. Sometimes, you can be your own family. After hanging up, I scrolled through my saved files and opened a PDF. It was the divorce agreement Carter’s mother had drafted for me four years ago. 04 The next morning, the moment I opened the guest room door, I bumped into Carter coming out of my bedroom. He looked exhausted. His eyes silently demanded to know why he had woken up in my bed. I didn’t even hesitate: “You stumbled into my room last night, grabbed me, and wouldn’t let go. I had no choice, so I just gave you the room.” Hearing this, a rare look of embarrassment washed over his face. He coughed softly: “Sorry. It won’t happen again.” I nodded, not looking at him again. I turned and walked downstairs to help the housekeeper with breakfast. Carter stood frozen. In the past, whenever we talked about things like this, my face would always flush with shyness. But today, I was completely nonchalant, even a little impatient. This sudden shift made Carter stand there, staring at my back for a long time. During breakfast, I announced I had errands to run today. I couldn’t drop Leo off at kindergarten, and I wouldn’t have time to deliver Carter’s lunch to the office. They would have to figure it out themselves. “Where are you going?” Father and son spoke almost simultaneously. Two pairs of eyes stared right at me. I was a little surprised they suddenly cared about my whereabouts. “I haven’t been back to the main estate in a while. I’m going to see your mother.” Carter’s brow relaxed, and the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch up slightly: “Wait until I get off work. I’ll go with you.” I shook my head: “No need. I can go by myself.” Carter’s eyes narrowed. He looked up at me again, but didn’t push it. Just as he was heading out the door, he suddenly stopped and said: “I hope you don’t go back there and say anything unpleasant.” I blinked, then let out a knowing smile. So he didn’t want to go with me because he cared; he was afraid I was going to tattle on him. He was really overthinking it. His scandal with Serena was practically plastered all over the tabloids. Why would I need to tattle? Leo stood at the top of the stairs for a long time, watching me. I didn’t know if I was imagining it, but I thought I saw a flicker of anger and hurt in his eyes. Finally, he let out a loud hmph and stomped off with the driver, Mr. Clark. I shook my head, amused. I really must not have slept well last night to be hallucinating. Leo couldn’t wait to get rid of me. Why would he be upset that I wasn’t dropping him off? When I arrived at the main estate and saw Carter’s mother, Eleanor, my first sentence was: “I want a divorce.” 05 I was adopted by the Sterling family from an orphanage. That year, Carter’s father and grandparents all died in a tragic accident. A psychic told Eleanor that adopting an orphan would build good karma and ward off further disaster. Otherwise, she wouldn’t even be able to keep Carter, the sole heir. So, Eleanor picked me. She paid for my living expenses and put me through college. I was always incredibly grateful to them. Until a gala a few years ago. One of Carter’s obsessive admirers managed to slip a date-rape drug into his drink. I just happened to be walking by. And just like that, we spent the night together. Afterward, everyone assumed I was the one who drugged him. They said the Sterling family had raised a backstabbing snake. Carter knew the truth, but he never said a single word in my defense. Then, I found out I was pregnant. Eleanor begged me to keep the baby. At that time, Carter had been broken up with Serena for a year and flat-out refused to get married. Everyone said it was because he couldn’t get over her. Eleanor put all her hopes on me. She promised that as long as I had the child, I could divorce him whenever I wanted. Thinking of everything the Sterling family had done for me, and seeing Eleanor’s tearful pleas… I agreed. After Leo was born, I couldn’t bear to leave him. I comforted myself by thinking that even a loveless marriage was better than freezing and starving like I did when I was a kid. I ultimately overestimated my tolerance for a marriage devoid of affection. Eleanor kept her word. She never made things difficult for me. She didn’t beg me to stay, and she didn’t insult me. She simply called her lawyer and sat down with me to go over the divorce agreement line by line. She acted less like a mother-in-law and more like a mother. I never thought I’d become a multi-millionaire just by getting a divorce. As I was leaving, Eleanor suddenly spoke: “Chloe, thank you.” My eyes welled up with tears. Honestly, Eleanor had always been good to me. Whether it was paying for my upbringing, or intentionally giving Carter and me our space after we got married… She did things most mothers-in-law would never do. 06 When I got home, I received a call from Carter’s secretary. She said Carter refused to eat lunch because I hadn’t delivered it. She was worried his stomach issues would flare up in the afternoon, and asked if I had time to whip something simple up and bring it over. My instinct was to refuse, but then I thought of Eleanor. I hesitated, then agreed. Just as I reached the door to Carter’s office, I heard him talking to a friend inside. “I hear you and Serena have been getting awfully close lately?” Carter’s pen stopped. He looked up at his friend. “Stop reading the tabloids. Keep talking garbage and I don’t mind having your old man drag you back home.” The friend brushed it off: “Oh, save it.” “You’re really keeping secrets from your best friend? If it’s fake, why haven’t you suppressed the trending articles?” “Listen to me. If you can’t get over her, just get a divorce. Marry Serena and finally get your happy ending, wouldn’t that be better?” “No.” Carter rejected the idea instantly this time. He was silent for a moment before continuing: “Serena has her own dreams. I can’t hold her back.” “Chloe… she’s taken really good care of me and Leo these past few years.” His friend laughed: “So you’re treating Chloe like a glorified nanny?” Carter didn’t answer. Hearing this, my heart still stung. So he didn’t want to divorce me just because I took good care of him. And Serena was the woman he actually loved. So he’d rather stay apart, hoping she could achieve her dreams. And what about me? What was I in his eyes? It seems if you want something, you have to fight for it yourself. If you eat scraps for long enough, people will start to think scraps are all you deserve. I didn’t go in. I handed the lunchbox to the janitor cleaning the hallway downstairs. That night at home, Carter and I barely spoke. But when it was time to go to bed, he stood outside my door and refused to leave. “What is it?” I asked him. He pressed his lips together: “Today is the fifteenth.” 07 I suddenly remembered. Today was our designated day to sleep together. On the surface, Carter seemed like a monk with no earthly desires. But in bed, he was always fierce and relentless. He wouldn’t stop until dawn. He claimed he hated kissing, but in the heat of the moment, he was always the one grabbing the back of my head and kissing me like he was starving. He would constantly demand I say his name. If I didn’t, he wouldn’t stop. Since I had already decided to divorce him, I had absolutely no desire to be intimate with him ever again. “Not tonight. It’s my time of the month.” I turned to go into my room, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist. “I remember your cycle. It isn’t now.” I didn’t expect him to be so stubborn. I wrenched my hand out of his grip, annoyed: “It came early, okay?” I didn’t care if he believed me or not. I walked quickly into my room and slammed the door shut. Carter seemed to stand outside my door for a long time before finally walking away. In the middle of the night, I suddenly felt the mattress dip behind me. The next second, a pair of large, burning hands pulled me into a tight embrace. Carter’s familiar voice whispered in my ear: “Just because it’s your time of the month doesn’t mean we can’t sleep in the same bed.” I tried to struggle, but his grip was like iron. Eventually, I was just too exhausted. I gave up and let him hold me. When I woke up the next morning, Carter was already gone. Leo had been taken to kindergarten by Mr. Clark. I decided to head out and get my visa sorted. On the way home, I was debating whether I should tell Carter and Leo about the divorce. After all, this wasn’t just my business. But the moment I walked through the door, I saw the two of them and Serena in the living room, laughing and playing like a perfect, happy family. The second Leo saw me, he threw his arms around Serena and yelled: “Dad and Ms. Hayes came to pick me up from school today! I was so happy! I wish Ms. Hayes could pick me up every day!” He shot me a smug, triumphant look. 08 Serena affectionately stroked his little head. “If you like it, I’ll pick you up whenever I have time.” Carter was sitting on the couch. Seeing me, he offered a brief explanation: “Serena said she wanted to see Leo, so I brought her over.” I nodded, not looking at Leo again, and walked straight up to Carter. “Do you have a minute? I need to speak to you privately.” Carter frowned: “Chloe, are you throwing a tantrum again?” “I know you don’t like Serena, but she is a guest here right now. She deserves your basic respect.” “Whatever you need to say can wait until tonight. Serena said she wanted to eat the sweet and sour ribs you make. Go help the chef prep dinner.” Serena immediately chimed in: “Carter, what are you saying? Ms. Miller isn’t a maid, how could you ask her to do that?” “I don’t do any cooking at my own house.” “It’s fine. She’s not like you. She does this kind of stuff all the time,” Carter said dismissively. “Really? Then I guess we’ll be bothering Ms. Miller tonight.” Serena looked at me, her eyes smiling, full of both smugness and mockery. I took a deep breath. Only now did I realize that the lunches I had painstakingly made and delivered to him… he had given them to Serena. Suddenly, I didn’t want to say anything at all. What was the point? I was truly pathetic. They didn’t care about me at all. “I’m not feeling well. If you want to eat, make it yourselves.” With that, I turned toward the stairs. Suddenly, Carter’s secretary walked in. She was holding several documents for him to sign. She looked extremely hesitant. Finally, she glanced at me and stammered: “There’s… there’s one more document.” “It’s… it’s the divorce agreement… sent over by the Chairman’s office this afternoon.” The moment she said those words, Carter and Leo’s heads snapped toward me. Even Serena’s eyes widened in shock. Scanning the contents of the agreement, the pen in Carter’s hand snapped with a loud crack. The veins on the back of his hand bulged. His tone carried a forced, terrifying calmness. “You want a divorce?”

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On the final day to submit college applications, my childhood sweetheart suddenly changed his top choice to the same university as the prom queen. His friends teased him: “What about your little shadow?” “Didn’t you two promise six years ago to go to MIT together?” My childhood sweetheart seemed to just remember this. He paused, then answered carelessly: “Oh, Maya? It’s fine. She has my account login.” “When she realizes I changed my application, she’ll just change hers to follow me. It’s not like she can live without me anyway.” I stood in silence for a long time. Then I quietly walked away, pretending I hadn’t heard a thing. That day, I never logged back into the application portal to check, and I didn’t change my top choice to follow him. What he didn’t know was… He could cross mountains and seas for the prom queen, but I also had a sky I wanted to fly towards. Even that dream I had desperately tried to achieve through countless days and nights—it was never just for him. 01 Liam’s words froze me in place, making me almost forget to breathe. Working hard together to get into MIT—that was a promise we made back in seventh grade. During the two days the application portal was open, our families even sat down together and spent a long time discussing it before solemnly finalizing our choices. But now, he had suddenly changed his. And he didn’t even say a word to me about it. Inside the private room of the restaurant, his friend asked curiously: “How do you know Maya will log back into your account to check?” “What if she doesn’t even notice…” Liam acted like he had just heard a joke, casually scoffing: “More than just check. I know her too well.” “She’d log in eight hundred times a day to double-check if she could, terrified of putting in the wrong info and ending up in a different major than me.” He sounded a bit exasperated as he said this. “You wouldn’t understand. If you had a little shadow clinging to you every day since childhood that you couldn’t shake off, you’d get it.” A wave of laughter erupted around him. His friends seemed to understand, but one still argued: “Even if she finds out, are you that sure Maya will change her application at the last minute just to follow you?” Liam looked up from the game on his phone, letting out a short, derisive laugh. “Get out of here.” “Maya hasn’t been apart from me for more than a week since the day she was born. If she doesn’t go to college with me, who else is she going to go with?” Another friend couldn’t help but interject: “Liam, not gonna lie, what you did was a bit messed up.” “Couldn’t you have just told her directly that you changed your application?” Liam’s finger paused on his screen, a look of annoyance crossing his face: “I honestly forgot. It’s annoying, and I couldn’t be bothered to explain everything to her.” “If she knew I changed it for Chloe, she’d throw another fit.” “And it’s not like I changed it for no reason. Chloe said she was scared to go to college down South all by herself, and that having a familiar friend there would make her feel safer.” The friends all paused, then sighed in unspoken agreement: “True. Chloe is so gorgeous, and with her family situation… it really makes you want to protect her.” “Unlike your little lapdog, Maya. Always looking like a mess, only caring about studying. Compared to the prom queen, she’s definitely lacking.” “Tsk, tsk. To think you’d give up the aerospace engineering major you loved so much just to play the white knight for her, Liam.” … The joking and gaming sounds continued inside. Outside the door, I felt like I had plunged into an icy cavern. I clenched my fists tight. I wanted so badly to burst through that door, grab Liam, and scream at him. But my feet felt like lead; I couldn’t take a single step. I stood there in silence for who knows how long. In the end, I couldn’t muster the courage. I just turned around wordlessly. And walked away from the restaurant in a daze. 02 It was only when I locked myself in my room that the tears I had been holding back finally broke the dam. In my mind, Liam’s words echoed, word for word. I still couldn’t understand it. How could he change the aerospace major he had loved since he was a kid at the very last minute? We had clearly promised to work hard together for so many years, and we had finally gotten the scores we needed for our dream program. Even a second before I walked toward that private room, I was still foolishly happy that we were going to achieve our dreams together. But I never would have imagined… That the future for the two of us, which I had fought tooth and nail for… He would casually throw it away just because of one sentence from someone else. But even if he was going to change it, why couldn’t he even manage to tell me? Was he really that afraid I would cling to him? If he was so afraid of me clinging to him, then under the starry sky on his eighteenth birthday… That proactive yet careful kiss from him, that heart-pounding moment for both of us—what was that? Was it just a spur-of-the-moment thing when he was tipsy, which I foolishly misinterpreted as something serious? A string in my heart seemed to suddenly snap. Actually, I didn’t have to follow him. Since kindergarten, I had attended the same elementary, middle, and high schools as Liam. Everyone, even Liam himself, assumed I would always be with him and that we would never separate. But no one knew that, aside from relying on him, I had another reason for wanting to go to that university. And it had nothing to do with Liam. Even if he didn’t go, I would go by myself. I closed the laptop I had unconsciously opened earlier. I didn’t want to look at that application portal for another second. And I had absolutely no desire to change my own application for him. He could cross mountains and seas for the prom queen, but I also had a sky I wanted to fly towards. Since we had different paths ahead, there was no need to dwell on the past. 03 Once I thought it through, everything suddenly felt clear. It wasn’t a big deal. My mom was right; people always have to learn to grow up on their own. As for that kiss… I’ll just pretend I got bitten by a stray dog on the street. Just as I splashed cold water on my face and calmed down, Liam sent me a FaceTime request. My brain was still hesitating, but my finger reflexively hit accept. “Maya, why aren’t you here yet? “Everyone is here, we’re just waiting for you to start eating. Why are you getting slower and slower, princess?” After high school graduation, Liam and his close group of friends agreed to take turns hosting a dinner every day to relax. Today it was Liam’s turn to treat. But I didn’t want to go anymore. “I’m not going, you guys eat without…” Before I could finish, I heard a deliberately lowered, whiny voice coming from next to Liam. “Liam, Maya won’t come. Is she unhappy that I came to your little friend group’s dinner?” Before Liam could reply, several male voices nearby rushed to reassure her. “No way! We’re thrilled the prom queen graced us with her presence.” “Maya is just a bit petty. She throws a fit whenever any girl gets too close to Liam. We’re used to it.” A small portion of Chloe’s profile casually appeared in Liam’s camera frame, leaning extremely close to him. She used a breathy voice to explain to him, playing the understanding victim: “Liam, maybe I should just go. I don’t want to make things difficult for you…” Liam’s expression changed instantly. He turned and reached out to grab her: “Chloe, you don’t need to go. “I don’t know what’s wrong with Maya today. If she doesn’t want to come, then she shouldn’t. “We’re not waiting for her anymore. Let’s eat.” After snapping at me coldly, Liam ended the FaceTime call before I could respond. My anger flared, and I immediately blocked Liam’s number. From childhood until now, this was the first time we had fought and I had blocked him. And it was over Chloe again. 04 Ever since Chloe transferred to our school in junior year. I’ve lost count of how many times Liam broke his own rules for her. Maybe boys just like pure, pretty girls like that. During the days when I looked my worst, burying my head in my studies… Chloe seemed to never settle for less. She always woke up early to do her perfect “no-makeup” makeup, always looking so exquisite and beautiful. Because of Chloe, we fought countless times and had countless cold wars. I even thought he liked Chloe and decided to give up on him, intentionally distancing myself from him a few times in silence. But every time, Liam would find me and repeatedly assure me. “What are you imagining? Chloe and I are just normal classmates. I don’t have any other intentions, don’t overthink it. “I just think she has it rough and want to help her out. Her family situation is complicated. The other students praise her looks to her face, but behind her back, they judge her.” I believed Liam’s words. Chloe did have a complicated family, so I didn’t make too much of a fuss about her getting closer and closer to him. Besides, growing up, Liam had never lied to me. He personally said he didn’t like her, so I believed him. But later, without me realizing it, Liam gradually started doing many, many things with her that I didn’t know about. And now. He had even casually changed his college application for Chloe. It made me look even more ridiculous. I thought about a lot of messy things until my thoughts were gathered by a text notification. [Maya, you’ve got some nerve, blocking me? You better be waiting for me when I get home.] (Angry Emoji) Liam used his friend’s phone to text me. I immediately blocked his friend’s number too. I checked the time, quickly got ready, and headed to school. It was the last day for college applications, and our homeroom teacher had called us in for one final meeting with some instructions. Traffic was a bit heavy. By the time I arrived, Liam and Chloe were already in the classroom. Chloe was sitting firmly in the seat next to Liam—my seat. Seeing me approach, she made no move to get up and let me in, her eyes full of smugness. Liam acted like he didn’t notice. His expression was cold, and he deliberately turned his head away to avoid looking at me. He seemed to be waiting for me to lower my head and beg. But I wouldn’t. Perfect. I didn’t want to sit next to Liam anymore anyway. I looked around and sat in an empty seat next to my best friend, Lily. Far, far away from them. “Class, there’s only half a day left for the college applications. Please be cautious and double-check everything carefully. “For those who still haven’t finalized their choices, you can come to me individually for advice.” The teacher gave a few brief instructions and let us have free time. I was listening to Lily share some celebrity gossip when I felt a tap on the top of my head. “Maya, come outside for a second.” I turned my head and met Liam’s eyes. I looked away, not wanting to engage with him. I turned back to continue chatting with Lily. Liam grabbed my shoulders and forcibly turned me to face him. “Maya, what are you throwing a fit about this time? “I’m really tired of this. Every time we fight and give each other the silent treatment like this. We’re about to go to college, isn’t this childish?” Forced to look at him, I snapped back in annoyance: “It is childish, and it’s boring. So stop coming to me and begging.” After staring each other down for a moment, Liam lost his patience. “Whatever, I’m too lazy to argue with someone so petty. “Keep acting if you want, just don’t cry about it alone in your room tonight.” I kept my face cold and refused to look at him. A moment later, I thought he had left. But Liam grabbed my face with both hands again, looked me straight in the eyes, and said seriously: “Today is the last day for applications. Check it over carefully again, don’t make any mistakes…” He wanted to say more, but Chloe suddenly appeared in front of him, holding a laptop. “Liam, I have a little problem with my application here. Could you help me look at it?” Liam nodded. Before leaving, he pinched my cheek like he always used to, and gave me one last reminder. “Why didn’t you bring your laptop? Remember to go to the school computer lab later and check your application one last time. “You can’t be careless with something this important.” 05 I sneered internally. Liam probably thought that since he reminded me, I would definitely go check, and once I found the discrepancy, I would immediately change my choice to NYU to follow him. But he was being awkward about it, refusing to just tell me clearly and directly. And yeah, if he told me directly that he changed his application, he’d have to spend a lot of effort explaining it to a “difficult” person like me. That would be too exhausting. It’s a good thing I had already made up my mind and would never turn back. Glancing at Liam, who was busy helping Chloe with her application, I pulled Lily out of the classroom. I was about to order an Uber home, but Lily saw I was unhappy and insisted on dragging me to a birthday party for one of her sorority sisters. Unable to say no, I had to tag along. After dinner, they dragged me to a newly opened club. It was only when we got there that I realized Liam’s group was having their party here tonight too. Since there were a lot of people who knew each other between the two groups, we naturally ended up hanging out in the same large VIP booth. Liam looked a bit awkward when he saw me. But he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t greet me. I treated him like he was invisible too. When I was heading to the restroom, I overheard Liam and his friend talking around the corner. The friend was advising him. “You should just be straight with her. It’s pretty tough for a young girl like her to go all the way to Boston [MIT] alone.” Liam still didn’t seem to care. “Don’t worry, I specifically reminded her multiple times. “She definitely already changed it. She’s probably just mad at me right now because I didn’t discuss it with her beforehand.” While I was spacing out, the two of them stepped out from around the corner. Seeing me, Liam signaled his friend to go ahead with his eyes, then turned around and cornered me in the hallway. “Maya, we need to talk.” I rolled my eyes at him and turned to leave. I barely took a step before he pulled me back, trapping me in the corner against the wall. The smell of alcohol, slightly tipsy, hit my face. I couldn’t help but turn my head away. After staring at me for a moment, Liam couldn’t hold it in and laughed softly first: “Still mad? I originally wanted to text you to come to the club together this afternoon. But you blocked me, so the message didn’t go through. “And then I was so mad at you in the classroom that I forgot to tell you. “Alright, be good. Stop being mad. I don’t even know what you’re so angry about today. “By the way, you checked your application, right?” I remained expressionless and didn’t want to talk to him. I kept my head down without saying a word. While we were in this standoff and he was about to say something else, Chloe’s voice suddenly echoed behind him. “Liam, Brad is looking for you to do a shot. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, are you guys…” Sometimes I wonder if Chloe installed a tracking device on him. Every time Liam and I talk, she immediately appears. But I didn’t want to chat with them. Taking advantage of Liam turning his head, I ducked out from under his arm. But as I passed Chloe, she grabbed me tight. 06 “I’m really sorry, Maya. I didn’t mean to interrupt you guys. Liam has been in a bad mood all day because you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder. “Can I apologize to you? Please don’t fight over me anymore.” Chloe said, posturing to stand in front of me and bow. I didn’t want to deal with her. Her grip on my hand hurt, so I forcefully shook it off. Chloe stumbled, and tears instantly welled up in her eyes. “Liam, is Maya still mad that I went to your little friend group’s dinner? “I can apologize to her. Please don’t be awkward with each other because of me anymore.” Liam instantly got angry and immediately turned around to block Chloe. “It’s her own princess temper. Why are you apologizing to her? “Maya, why did you push her? You should apologize to Chloe. “We’re all going to be at the same university in the future, we need to look out for each other.” “Since you love taking care of people so much, you guys can take care of each other.” I threw that sentence at them and stormed off. I didn’t care about Liam’s dissatisfied warning from behind. “Maya, you’re crossing the line.” It was a good while before Liam and Chloe came back. Liam’s face was stiff, but Chloe seemed fine, looking all shy and blushing. Except for Lily, everyone else started teasing them about being gone so long and definitely having a secret, using Truth or Dare to deliberately create romantic moments for them. Even Liam’s closest friends joined in on the teasing, not caring at all if I would feel embarrassed or bothered. Makes sense. In their eyes, I was just Liam’s pathetic lapdog. Chloe ended up drawing a dare to do a sexy dance with a guy in the room, and she immediately locked pleading eyes on Liam. Liam subtly glanced at me, as if provoking me, and gladly agreed to cooperate with her. If it had been in the past, I would definitely have jumped out in anger and stopped it. But now, I had no reaction. Chloe had joined the hip-hop dance club at school, and she had a really hot body, so she was great to watch. I quietly downed a can of beer. I calmly watched Chloe, accompanied by a sexy K-pop track, grinding and dancing closely around Liam. Liam had a faint smile playing on his lips. At first, he kept glancing over at me, seemingly waiting for me to call it off at any moment. As Chloe got closer and more intimate, he stopped caring about his surroundings. He sat up straight, his gaze entirely focused on Chloe’s figure. Sparks were practically flying between the two of them. As the song ended, Chloe ‘accidentally’ fell into Liam’s lap. She was wearing a tight pencil skirt tonight, and she fell face-first into Liam’s lap. They hugged tightly, their seating position undeniably intimate. The crowd’s cheers were deafening, almost blowing the roof off. Chloe’s face instantly turned bright red, looking like she wanted to find a place to hide. Liam cursed at everyone, telling them not to take the joke too far. But his hand firmly pressed Chloe’s face into his chest, shielding her from the crowd’s gaze. That kind of natural intimacy and familiarity used to be exclusive to me. Even though I had already decided to give up, actually seeing it still made my heart ache uncontrollably. I couldn’t watch it anymore. I finished the last sip of my drink and silently left the booth. Lily couldn’t take it either. She followed me out and accompanied me as I cursed him out on the sidewalk for a long time. She had held it in all night, almost snapping at them right then and there several times, but I had stopped her. Why ruin the mood? From now on, we were just strangers anyway. I didn’t know how things ended up inside; I just felt exhausted and didn’t care about anything anymore. When I got home, it was exactly 11:55 PM. There were only five minutes left until the college application deadline. I was completely drained. I closed my eyes and lay on my bed. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t disappointed in my heart. Over a decade of feelings, you can’t just let them go. While I was feeling sad, my phone suddenly rang. Unknown number. When I answered, it was a drunk Liam. His tone carried a rare, coaxing quality: “Maya, stop being stubborn, be good. Remember to change your application. “NYU is pretty great too. We can go to the Hamptons on the weekends, I’ll take photos of you by the ocean.” 07 Maybe it was the alcohol, but Liam’s attitude was unusually gentle. In the past, when I threw tantrums, even when he was the first to apologize, it was always with a half-threatening tone— “Maya, stop it. If you keep this up, don’t expect me to take you to Disneyland.” And then I would obediently take the out and forgive him. When you truly like someone, how can you bear to really fall out with them? But this time. The more out of character he was, the worse I felt inside. “Say something, Maya… Maya papaya… how about it? “Haven’t you always been whining about wanting to go on a beach vacation… I heard the new campus is right by the water, you’ll definitely love it. “Honestly, Boston is a bit too far, and the winters are so freezing. You hate the cold so much, you’d definitely cry… Or if you really want to go, I can take you to ski in Vermont during winter break, okay…” Liam rambled on and on, as if trying to convince himself, or maybe trying to convince me. As if changing to go to NYU was all for my sake. I listened in silence for a while, and finally couldn’t help but ask him: “Liam, isn’t there something you need to tell me?” My tone carried a sob that even I hadn’t noticed. I thought, if he could just be honest about his own issues right now, then maybe in the future… we could still be normal friends. If he still chose not to address it clearly now, then really, there was no need to stay in touch anymore. He paused for a few seconds on the other end, then mumbled evasively: “…You already know, what’s there to ask. “You’ve been mad at me all day over this, you’re such a petty princess. “Alright, alright, they’re both good schools anyway. You chose the major you liked, as long as we’re together, it’s the same no matter what college we go to…” Liam went on and on about a lot of things, but he just wouldn’t address the core issue. I couldn’t be bothered to listen anymore. The last chance. Was gone. I didn’t wait for him to finish; I just hung up and turned off my phone. I glanced at the clock. The second hand had just crossed midnight. There was no room for regret anymore. That’s fine. I chose this path myself. We both got what we wanted. I turned off the light, lay flat, and forced myself to sleep. But when I closed my eyes, my mind was full of Liam. Happy, sad, funny, angry—all the different versions of Liam. We grew up together from kids to adults, keeping each other company. Every memory I had held his shadow. I never thought it would end like this. People are always especially fragile late at night. Even though I told myself to be strong during the day, my tears unknowingly soaked my pillowcase. In my haze, I didn’t know when I finally fell asleep. When I woke up, it was already noon the next day. I turned on my phone and found a bunch of missed calls and messages from an unknown number. All from Liam. I ignored them. WeChat was also blowing up. In a group chat with my close girlfriends that Lily had added me to, people were constantly tagging everyone to “spill the tea.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “395056”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The morning after my high school reunion, before I even opened my eyes, my hand brushed against a long, hairy leg. Driven by sheer curiosity, I couldn’t help but reach out and feel it a few more times… The next second—Bang! The door burst open, and a group of guys flooded into the room. Terrified, I immediately snatched my hand back, snapped my eyes open, and hugged the blanket tight against my chest. “Dr. Carter, the Chief of Surgery is looking for you…” The group of men suddenly froze, letting out a collective gasp of shock. Me: ??? What Dr. Carter? I followed their wide-eyed stares and peeked beside me. A man was lying right next to me. He had long, straight, muscular legs completely covered in a wildly masculine amount of hair. And further up… I practically blinded myself. “We… we didn’t mean to intrude!” The group of guys immediately squeezed their eyes shut, scrambling to apologize. I didn’t know these guys, and I certainly didn’t know the man lying next to me. Just as I was panicking, completely at a loss for what to do— The man beside me reached out and gave the blanket a slight tug. He cracked his eyes open just a sliver, shot me a glance, and said in a gravelly, morning voice, “Care to share a little?” It took me a full second to process his words. Then, I released the blanket like it had caught fire. The fabric barely covered his vital areas before he closed his eyes again and drawled lazily at the doorway, “Are you guys still here?” Whoa… I was already terrified of him. I was about to scramble out of bed when he let out a heavy sigh. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he muttered helplessly. At his words, the peanut gallery at the door finally snapped out of their trance. “The Chief is waiting for you at the morning briefing! Hurry down!” one of them yelled before they practically tripped over each other running out of the hotel room. The world suddenly went dead silent. I sat there, clutching the corner of the blanket, shivering like a leaf. 2 “What are you so scared of?” My shivering must have chased away the rest of his sleep. He opened his eyes, gave me a helpless look, but couldn’t keep them open and let them fall shut again. “I… I think… it kinda hurts.” Traumatized and panicking, I started babbling nonsense. The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to slap myself. This time, his eyes snapped open and stayed that way. He stared at me for a few seconds, reached up to massage his temples, and then slung a long arm around me, effortlessly pulling my waist toward him. “It’s your first time. That’s how it is. You’ll be fine in a minute.” He was probably trying to comfort me. But I was absolutely not comforted. Instead, a cold sweat broke out all over my body. Then I looked down and saw a tiny spot of blood on the white hotel sheets… My scalp went numb. He stared at the spot of blood too. He froze for a moment, then reached out, ruffled my hair, and let out a breathless laugh. “I’m sorry. I lost control a bit.” Lost control?! Another wave of cold sweat washed over me. “Who even are you?” I asked, agonizing over my life choices. My question actually made him laugh. “You don’t even know who I am, and you still broke in here and forced yourself on me?” “I… I can’t remember…” I had never dealt with anything like this before. I was covered in goosebumps. “I won’t get pregnant from this, right?” Honestly, I applaud myself. In the midst of all that chaos, I managed to push aside every other question and hit the absolute most critical one. I’m a genius. “…” He opened his eyes and gave me a long look. He looked incredibly exhausted—so weak that if I pushed him, he might just stop breathing. Just how wild was I last night to wear a grown man out like this? I was dying of shame. “No,” he summarized simply. I had zero experience, and I couldn’t remember a single detail of last night, so I didn’t dare ask for specifics. If he said I wouldn’t get pregnant, I believed him. After all, those guys had called him a doctor. Maybe he used protection? I could only hope. “Well then. Goodbye?” To avoid the inevitable awkwardness of him fully waking up, I chose the cowards’ way out: fleeing. “…” He gave me one last look and suddenly smiled. “Alright.” 3 I honestly thought I would never see him again in my life. Yet, exactly two weeks later, I was sitting outside his department, clutching a pregnancy test in my pocket, shivering like a leaf. “Hey, Mrs. Carter!” A young guy in scrubs bounded over to me. I jumped out of my skin, nearly having a heart attack. “Are you waiting for Dr. Carter?” He was grinning, acting like we were old friends. In reality, our only interaction had been that hurried, mortifying morning in the hotel room. The morning I wanted to scrub from my brain forever. Two weeks ago, I attended my high school reunion, drank way too much, and stumbled into the wrong hotel room. I only found out later that Dr. Carter and a bunch of surgeons from the hospital were attending a medical conference at that exact hotel. Coincidentally, his room was right next to mine. He had been sick with a fever, and his colleague had forgotten to make sure the door clicked shut when leaving. And I just… stumbled right in. Then his colleagues came to get him for a meeting the next morning… And the rest is history. “Uh, yeah,” I brushed him off, my entire face burning up. “Come wait in the break room with me.” Before I could protest, he dragged me inside. As we walked past Dr. Carter in the hallway, he glanced at me with an expression that said he had absolutely no idea who I was. To be fair, I barely recognized him either. I had never seen him out of bed and fully dressed in a crisp white coat before. I waited anxiously for two hours. From the nameplate on his desk, I learned his name was Liam Carter. Attending Cardiologist. I sneakily Googled his credentials on my phone and discovered he was already… 29 years old? I silently calculated the massive generational gap between us. A while later, Liam finally came into the room to change his coat. He gave me a suspicious look. “Are you waiting for Ben?” Me: ??? “Dr. Carter, I’m waiting for you.” I stood up, gripping my purse tight, my voice as small as a mosquito’s. “You are?” Me: ??? Does he seriously not recognize people once he’s out of bed? “Two weeks ago. At the hotel. We…” I braced myself and tried to explain, losing confidence with every word. Finally, I just pulled the pregnancy test out of my purse and timidly held it out to him. “I think… I’m pregnant…” “Dr. Carter, it’s time for lunch.” Right at that moment, a beautiful female doctor pushed the door open. I panicked and tried to hide the test, but it slipped from my fingers and fell right into the trash can next to the desk. I stared at the trash can, terrified he hadn’t gotten a good look at it, debating whether I should fish it out. “…” Liam didn’t say a word. He just stared at me, a highly amused look crossing his face. “Is this a patient?” The female doctor clearly had no intention of leaving, turning her scrutinizing gaze on me. I opened my mouth, but the awkwardness was suffocating. “Just taking care of something. You guys go ahead,” he said, making zero effort to introduce me. I felt like a thief caught red-handed. The female doctor looked reluctant to leave. Before stepping out, she deliberately tugged on his sleeve, a subtle display of ownership. He has a girlfriend. I felt like I had just been struck by lightning. 4 He acted as if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He sat down at his desk, started filling out patient charts, and casually joked, “Feeling better?” Wow. My heart started racing. “I’m fine,” I replied automatically. He shot me an airy glance and smiled again. “Want me to take responsibility?” I honestly admired him. How could he calmly write charts at a time like this, treating me like I was just here for a routine checkup? “I just don’t know what to do.” I had never expected him to take responsibility; I was just completely lost facing this result and wanted a medical opinion. I tested the waters, “I can get an abortion, right?” On the outside, I was holding it together, but my palms were dripping with sweat. He kept writing his charts, acting like I was talking about something that had nothing to do with him. What a jerk. His absolute calm was driving me insane. “It’s up to you.” He suddenly looked up, his gaze locking straight onto mine, completely devoid of emotion. “If you decide you don’t want it, then you don’t want it.” “Okay.” Could I really do it? Given the circumstances… “Scared?” His tone held a hint of teasing mockery. “Yeah.” I was at a loss for words. “Now you know how to be scared…” He gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher, flipped to a new page in his charts, and laughed. “You certainly weren’t acting like this that night.” Me: ??? Thinking back to how half-dead he looked that morning, I really, really wanted to know what exactly I did to him that night. But his words made it sound like this was 100% my fault. I was getting annoyed. “It wasn’t entirely my fault either,” I muttered, so quietly I could barely hear myself. He stopped writing. He raised an eyebrow at me, and a sudden smile broke through his stern face. “I was running a 103-degree fever that night. Do you really think I had the energy to fight you off?” Well… He had me boxed into a corner. I thought to myself: If you didn’t have the energy to fight me off, how did you have the energy to wear me out like that? A jerk is a jerk. The fact that he could talk about something this shameful so casually proved he was way too experienced at handling these situations. I couldn’t play his game. “If you’ve thought it through…” He went quiet, finished his chart, and sighed as he looked up. “Let’s do it next week.” “Next week?” “I don’t have an opening in my schedule until next week,” he explained. “Okay.” Adults have to pay the price for their actions. I didn’t argue, but my heart was a tangled mess of anxiety. 5 A week later, I found myself sitting in his office again. My resolve to go through with the surgery had cracked. It started because my mom had invited me over for dinner that week. My stepdad, my little stepbrother, my mom—it was a loud, warm, bustling family dinner. When I returned to my tiny, empty apartment, I looked around and thought of the cozy scene I had just left. I sighed, feeling a crushing, unprecedented wave of loneliness. My parents divorced when I was very young. I lived with my mom, but since middle school, I had been sent to boarding schools. My mom had met my stepdad when I was in junior high and started a new family. She was happy. I should have been happy for her. But coming back to my empty apartment, I felt exhausted down to my bones. Suddenly, I wanted to keep this baby. I was just so lonely. I knew Liam would never agree. No guy in his right mind would. Especially since he probably had a girlfriend. So even as I sat in his office, I was agonizing over whether to go through with it. “Hey, Mrs. Carter, looking for Dr. Carter again?” It was Ben, the guy from before. “Yeah.” I sat there, stiff and uncomfortable. “Please don’t call me that!” I reminded him quietly. “Don’t be shy!” Ben leaned in close, checking to make sure the coast was clear before lowering his voice. “We used to place bets on who would eventually tame the ice-cold Dr. Carter… I never expected it would be you. We seriously bow down to you.” “Huh?” I was completely lost. I whispered back, “You’re misunderstanding… He and I aren’t…” Finally, I gave up trying to explain and just threw out, “Doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Don’t start rumors.” “Who?” Ben suddenly looked deadly serious. “How do I not know about this?” “…” I was stunned. Liam didn’t have a girlfriend? Had I misunderstood? “Are you saying Dr. Carter is sneaking around behind your back with another woman?” “?” I didn’t know how to explain that I was the “other woman.” “Do you have too much free time on your hands?” A voice floated down from above us. A tall figure appeared right in front of us. Liam! I shot up from my chair, feeling the exact same embarrassment as getting caught talking in class by a teacher. “I…” I tried to say something. Ben got so scared he immediately pretended to study a medical chart and bolted out the door. “I wasn’t talking to you.” Once Ben was gone, Liam’s tone softened. He ruffled my hair, gestured for me to sit back down, and took a seat behind his desk. I felt so awkward. Why did he always touch my hair? Didn’t he know that gesture was way too intimate and totally embarrassing? “Why are you always so scared of me?” He gave me a curious look. “Do I look that terrifying?” I sat down nervously. “No, it’s just that you’re older… you seem like…” “Like what?” He suddenly looked highly entertained. “Like an elder,” I answered honestly. “An elder?” He let out a sharp laugh of disbelief. “How old are you?” “I turn 22 next month.” His laugh made me feel totally inadequate. When a usually stern guy suddenly laughs, it’s lethal. Especially when he has a face that belongs on a billboard. “That is a little young.” He dropped the smile, lost in thought for a second. “Wait here a minute.” He stood up and went into the attached locker room to change his scrubs. Those few minutes were pure torture. I kept debating how I should bring it up. Because Ben had said Liam didn’t have a girlfriend, my resolve was shaking even more. I was almost 22. I had never been in a relationship. And Liam—whether it was his looks, the way he carried himself, his career… he checked every single box I had ever imagined for a partner. Except for the fact that he was a bit of a jerk, of course. I thought to myself: Maybe I could actually date him. Finally, I gathered my courage, stood up, walked to the locker room door, and gave it a soft knock. “Dr. Carter, I have a question for you.” I clenched my fists. I didn’t have the guts to say this to his face, so talking through the door was much easier. He didn’t answer. I hesitated, but pushed forward. “Do you have a girlfriend? If you don’t, could we maybe give this a try? I want to keep the baby.” That single sentence drained every ounce of energy in my body. I stood at the door, awaiting his final judgment. Then the door swung open. But instead of his judgment, I was greeted by the booming judgment of a cell phone on speaker… “Keep it! Of course you’re going to keep it! If you dare touch a hair on her head, I will disown you! You bring my granddaughter-in-law home to me safe and sound!” Liam leaned casually against the doorframe, handing the phone right to my face while he continued buttoning his shirt. The sheer volume of the voice on the other end was enough to prove just how furious the man was. “Who is this?” I took the blazing-hot phone, my heart about to beat out of my chest. “My grandpa.” He massaged his temples and gave a helpless smile. “Ah… Granddaughter-in-law, is that you? Don’t you worry, when that brat Liam gets home, I’ll break his legs! If he dares to bully you… you have to keep the baby…” Liam’s grandpa went on a massive tangent over the phone. I was so mortified I wanted to curl up and die. All I could do was nod continuously and say, “Yes, sir.” Meanwhile, Liam listened to the whole thing with an attitude that screamed “not my problem,” casually sitting back at his desk to write more charts. Was he even human? I was dying inside. 6 By the time the call ended, my brain was buzzing. I walked over, handed the phone back, and couldn’t even look him in the eye. “You really know how to cause trouble…” He looked at me and let out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t know you were on the phone.” I looked incredibly apologetic. “Anyway, don’t listen to him.” He stood up and gave his final conclusion. “Dr. Carter, what I asked earlier… did you hear me?” I cut straight to the chase. “My grandpa heard you, what do you think?” he countered. “Oh.” I waited for his actual answer. “Take some more time to think about it.” I took that as a flat-out rejection. I stood frozen in place, my hands and feet turning to ice. “Why?” I honestly applaud myself for having the sheer audacity to ask that question in a moment like this. “…” He paused, letting out another sigh. “You’re too young, and you’re too innocent. I’m not exactly a good guy.” He shot me another look and muttered, “Way too young.” For a second, I didn’t know if he meant my age or… something else. Regardless, my face flushed crimson. I don’t even know how I managed to walk out of that office. But the only thing repeating on a loop in my head was his final sentence— “The best way to fix a mistake is to cut your losses immediately, not use another mistake to cover up the first one.” I told him I was holding off on the surgery for today, and fled the hospital like my life depended on it. 7 Two days later. Just as I had completely given up hope on the whole situation, I was suddenly contacted by Liam’s family. And by family, I mean his grandpa, grandma, maternal grandparents, mom, dad, uncles, aunts… In a single day, I received so many phone calls I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Basically, they all had one central message: The baby must be kept, and they would handle Liam. As for how they were going to handle him? I figured no one on earth could withstand that kind of coordinated artillery fire from an entire extended family. Sure enough, the very next day, Liam showed up at the door of my apartment. “What are you doing here?” I was shocked to see him when I opened the door. He was leaning against the wall outside my apartment, a cigarette between his fingers, looking deathly pale. The floor around him was littered with cigarette butts. “Fixing your little mess.” He reached out, ruffled my hair, gently nudged me out of the way, and walked straight into my apartment. “I’m sorry. I have no idea how your grandpa got my number.” It was obvious he was incredibly annoyed by this whole ordeal. “…” He stubbed out his cigarette, ignoring my apology. He slouched down onto the corner of my sofa and offered a tired smile. “I pulled an overnight shift. I’m dead on my feet. Can I borrow this spot to sleep for two hours?” “Ah, yeah, of course.” I quickly moved the throw pillows off the couch so he’d have room to lie down. No wonder he looked so utterly exhausted. Once he laid down, I realized that compared to his height, my couch was practically miniature. He looked totally cramped sleeping like that; it couldn’t be comfortable. Yet, he fell asleep the exact second his eyes closed. He said he needed to sleep for two hours and asked me to wake him up. But when the time came, his face was still buried deep in the cushions, and he looked so drained I honestly didn’t have the heart to wake him. Even though I didn’t wake him, he snapped awake exactly on the hour. He checked the mechanical watch on his wrist. “8:30. They’re open.” With that, he sat up, suddenly looking sharp and wide awake again. “What’s open?” I asked. Truthfully, those two hours had been nerve-wracking. I had no idea what he was doing here. Since he rejected me last time, I hadn’t wanted to see him again. It was too awkward. “Do you have your birth certificate and ID?” He looked me dead in the eye. “No.” My heart skipped a beat. “They’re at my mom’s.” “…” He stared at me for a long moment, then laughed and sighed. “Looks like we’re taking a trip.”

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1. It was the fourth year of my long-distance relationship with Lucas Ramos. For the first time, I kept a secret from him. I bought a train ticket to Washington, hoping to surprise him—he’d always been the one traveling thousands of miles to see me. Clutching a carefully chosen bouquet of roses, my heart raced as I felt the handmade ring hidden inside. On the campus of Washington University, an excited girl rushed past me. “Hurry, to the athletic field! Lucas, the campus crush, is confessing to Anna, the beauty from the art department!” I froze. The name was the same as my boyfriend’s. Seeing Lucas hadn’t replied to my messages, I turned and followed the crowd to the field. Then I saw them, two figures surrounded by flowers. “Anna Hayes, I don’t know when it started, but my heart has had no space for anyone else since.” “I just want to tell you, I’ll love you forever, until death.” The girl covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. My world went silent. One was the man I’d loved for years. The other was my younger sister, Anna—the sister I’d sacrificed everything for, working day and night to support. They stood among roses, a perfect match. My flowers and the ring had already fallen, trampled into the mud by the crowd. I watched as Lucas knelt on one knee, gazing at her with deep affection. “Anna, with me, you’ll never have to rely on anyone else again.” I blinked, my eyes stinging, struggling to comprehend his words. So, my sacrifices… had they become shackles on their love? He continued. “From the first moment I saw you, it felt like my eyes could never truly see anyone else.” I froze, my gaze blank. The first time they met? I remembered. It was when I brought Anna to NYU. Lucas had met us at the station. That day, seeing the man outside the station, I ran to him, took his hand, and led him to Anna. “Anna, this is Lucas Ramos, your brother-in-law.” Then, smiling brightly, I looked up at him. “This is my sister, Anna Hayes. She was accepted into the NYU Art Department this year. Please look after her.” He paused, not speaking, which made me slightly confused. “Lucas, what’s wrong?” Only then did he snap out of it, his eyes flickering as he extended a hand to Anna. “Hello, I’m Lucas Ramos. You can come to me for anything.” Anna blushed and nodded, shaking his hand. “Thank you, brother-in-law.” I was a little surprised by Lucas’s action. He was usually reserved, never keen on physical contact with others. Even when we first started dating, it took a year before we held hands. Now, he was… But the thought vanished as quickly as it appeared. They were both the people I loved most. Seeing them get along, I was happier than anyone. At the time, I simply attributed Lucas’s daze to fatigue and Anna’s blush to shyness. Now, it seemed, I had been foolish. The cheers of the crowd pulled me back to reality. I blinked, my vision blurred by the sudden welling of tears. I watched, lost, as they embraced and kissed, unable to pull away. My heart sank deeper and deeper into an abyss. A girl beside me, her face flushed with excitement, shared a photo with her friend. “Finally, I can share this! I took it half a year ago, when there was that sudden flu outbreak and the whole school was quarantined.” “Then, that day, I saw Lucas, the senior, buying medicine without a second thought and personally delivering it to Anna. It was so sweet!” My pupils constricted. Yes, there had been a sudden flu outbreak half a year ago. I had been terribly worried in another city, afraid Anna would get sick, and transferred my entire month’s salary to her. Then, I suddenly fell ill myself. That evening, waking up alone in my apartment, my body ached all over, and I felt so lonely I wanted to cry. I called Lucas, asking if he could come stay with me. But he refused without hesitation. “Autumn, I can’t even leave my dorm right now.” He added before hanging up, his voice cold as ice. “If you’re sick, go to the hospital yourself. You’re an adult, and I’m not a doctor.” I felt humiliated. Just then, my sister sent me a photo with a bag full of medicine. “Autumn, don’t worry about me. The school gave out medicine. You should take good care of yourself too.” Only then did I feel relieved. Then I sighed, sad and alone, looking at the disconnected call. Now I understood. Where did those medicines come from… And for whom did Lucas make those exceptions, time and time again? The crowd around me was still cheering. I lowered my eyes, slowly backing away, walking against the tide of excited people. Unknowingly, I found myself in NYU’s botanical garden. There was an entire wall covered with wish sachets there. The first time I came to NYU, I dragged Lucas here to make a wish. “It’s really effective!” I said excitedly, but he seemed unimpressed. Only when he heard that did his eyebrow twitch slightly. “Effective? Fine, let’s write something.” Walking to a corner, I immediately spotted the two sachets we had personally hung. On a whim, I untied Lucas’s. I wanted to see what he had written. 2. I took down the sachet and slowly unfolded the note inside. “I’ve fallen for a girl in a white dress. My heart has never beaten like this for anyone before. But there seem to be obstacles to us being together. I hope my wish comes true.” I remembered how nervous and insecure Anna was when she first got into art school. To prevent her from being discriminated against in the art department due to financial issues, I used two months’ salary to buy her two expensive outfits, while I ate plain bread and noodles for two months. One of those outfits was the white dress she wore the day I picked her up at the station. My hand, gripping his note, slowly tightened, my knuckles cracking audibly. It was all so absurd it made me want to laugh. Had I just dug my own grave? So, the obstacles he mentioned… Were they me? No wonder Lucas had carefully protected the note that day, not letting me see it. “It won’t come true if you look. Don’t worry, it’s definitely about you.” At the time, my heart had been as sweet as honey. Thinking this, I slowly knelt down and untied my own sachet. Now, every word on it felt like it was mocking me. “I hope to grow old with Lucas Ramos, and I hope my sister is safe and healthy.” My breathing instantly became ragged. My heart felt like it was being pricked by countless tiny needles, the pain making my face pale. Then I closed my eyes, put both notes in my bag, and threw the sachets into the pond. Just then, my phone chimed. It was Lucas, finally replying. “You’re in Washington!” The exclamation mark didn’t convey excitement, but rather impatience and guilt. I didn’t reply, instead walking out of the botanical garden towards the campus exit. But at a corner along the way, I saw the two of them, sitting by the lake, leaning into each other, embraced. “What about Autumn?” Anna twisted her hands, her eyes downcast, looking a bit anxious. Lucas pursed his lips, reaching out to gently pry her fingers apart and rub them. “Anna, if your sister truly loves us, if she considers us the most important people in her life, then she shouldn’t stand in the way of our love.” “It’ll be okay.” Anna looked up, her eyes full of apprehension. “Really? But I’m truly afraid of hurting Autumn.” Lucas cupped her face and kissed her, his eyes overflowing with a love I had never seen directed at me. “Hush, leave everything to me. You don’t need to worry about any of this.” I leaned against the wall, utterly broken, a dull ache in my chest. My fingers dug into the plaster, drawing tiny specks of blood. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Lucas. “Sweetheart, I’m quite busy with graduation approaching. You go back first. I’ll come find you after everything is settled.” I tugged at the corner of my mouth, finding it laughable. I turned and left. It was midday, and the scorching sun made my head swim. Unconsciously, my mind wandered, and I found myself at Central Park. There was an undeveloped area there. Lucas, Anna, and I had buried three time capsules there once. We had promised to dig them up ten years later. Now I knew there wouldn’t be another ten years for us. Since I was already here, I might as well dig them up. With that thought, I ducked under the fence and walked alone to a large tree. Three small stones were still piled on top, our marker from that year. I kicked them away mercilessly and began to dig with my bare hands. Opening the time capsule, mine contained a photo of the three of us, Anna’s painting, and the crystal ball Lucas had given me the day he agreed to be with me. Opening Lucas’s, I found a red bracelet. Opening Anna’s, I found an identical one. “Ha…” My gaze solidified, filled with a sense of desolation. It turned out to be a solo performance all along. I stood up, my head suddenly light, my vision darkening. With a thud, I collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness. 3. I had a dream. I dreamt of my parents, constantly fighting and even hitting each other when I was a child. Whenever this happened, I could only hug a weeping Anna, huddling in a corner, covering her ears and saying, “Don’t be scared, big sister is here.” Later, they divorced, each remarried, and had other children. Anna and I became ‘orphans’. I practically raised her myself, dropping out of school to wash dishes in a restaurant just to support her. And it was during this time that I met Lucas Ramos. That day, a group of drunk men grabbed me, insisting I drink with them. I had just turned eighteen, never experienced anything like this, and trembled uncontrollably. But this only made the drunkards more interested. With lewd expressions, they started grabbing at me, their hands roaming my body. I cried out to the boss for help, but he simply ignored me. Just as they were about to drag me into their car, a young man on a bicycle appeared and knocked down the man holding me. The man on the ground roared in anger. “Where did this nosy kid come from! You’re looking for a fight!” Drunk courage fueled him, and he actually grabbed a wine bottle from nearby, smashing it fiercely towards us! My body instantly stiffened. I could only watch, paralyzed, as the bottle came closer and closer. Bang! The anticipated pain never came. The young man stood in front of me, blood from his forehead trickling down his pale cheek onto my hand. The men, seeing this, feared trouble and quickly fled. “You, you’re bleeding!” I cried, looking at the suddenly limp figure, my heart aching with worry. “I’m fine,” he struggled to stay conscious, “Dummy, after all these years, you’re still such a crybaby.” I had no time to wonder how he knew me, only thinking to call 911. Outside the operating room, I couldn’t figure out where I had seen him before, but the soft, continuous ache in my heart was unfamiliar to me. Thankfully, the surgery was successful. I stayed by his side all night, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The next morning, he finally woke up, and his first words were, “Crybaby, I’m fine.” Buzz. My eyes suddenly widened. “It’s you, the big brother from South Gate Street who gave me candy?” He chuckled. “It’s me, but Autumn, we’re the same age. No need to call me so old.” I felt a little embarrassed, trying to ignore my increasingly erratic heartbeat. Later, he would always hold me when I was overwhelmed and helpless. “With me, we’ll take care of your sister together.” “Autumn, all you need to do is love me well. I’ll take care of everything else.” Falling for him, and then succumbing, almost became inevitable. My phone suddenly vibrated violently, waking me from my dream. I opened my eyes, realizing I was in a hospital. Reaching for my phone, I saw messages from Anna and Lucas. “Sister, are you in Washington? Where are you? Why didn’t you come to see me? I’ll come to you?” “Where are you? Why aren’t you answering? Your sister is worried.” I didn’t reply to any of them. My mind was a jumble, I truly didn’t know how to face them. “Bed 32, remember to pay the bill.” A nurse called out from the doorway. I nodded quickly, took out the IV drip, and walked towards the payment counter, holding it in one hand. “I’m pregnant now, what should I do?!” Anna’s sobbing voice came from the patient room beside me. My steps faltered, and I froze in place. Through the crack in the door, I saw Lucas holding Anna tightly in his arms. “Anna, if you want to keep the baby, I’ll definitely take responsibility. We’ll get married right away, and I’ll handle your sister.” “If you don’t want to keep it, I’ll find the best doctor.” Anna’s tears flowed like rain. “But whether I keep it or not, Sister will definitely find out! Then I’ll…” Lucas’s eyes reddened, filled with guilt. “It’s all my fault. I really couldn’t control myself that day, Anna. I’ll definitely convince Autumn.” My mind buzzed. The whole world suddenly fell silent, I could only hear my own heart, almost stopped. My steps stumbled, I almost fell to the ground. They actually… I raised my hand to my stomach, my eyes stinging. A year ago, there had been a tiny life here too. When I found out, I was overjoyed and immediately told Lucas. But he suddenly pulled me close, his eyes complex. “Autumn, this child…” He paused, his tone then becoming non-negotiable. “We can’t have it now. It’s too early. Can we talk about it later?” It felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over me from head to toe. My smile froze on my lips. He hugged me, then casually arranged for the surgery, and the baby was gone. And because of the hurried surgery, I developed a chronic illness. Now, every time my period comes, the pain is unbearable. Thinking this, my steps were unsteady, and my body bumped against the doorknob, making a loud clang. The two inside froze, then quickly turned around.

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1 Delivery room, 1:15 AM. I’ve just been born. In a little while, a nurse named Brenda Wallace will come in, steal me, and swap me with another family’s baby. Last time, she succeeded. I spent twenty years suffering in a cramped apartment. After I discovered the truth and came back to reclaim my family, the impostor served me a cup of poisoned tea and sent me right back to the Underworld. This time is different. I worked in the Underworld for ten years, saving up enough merit points to buy this one chance to do it all over again. I stared at the clock on the wall, calculating silently. One hour and forty-five minutes until Brenda makes her move. … In one hour and forty-five minutes, Nurse Brenda Wallace will push open this door. She’ll say she’s taking the baby for a newborn screening. My mother, exhausted from labor, won’t suspect a thing. Brenda will then carry me to the supply closet at the end of the hall. Her cousin, Megan Fischer, will be waiting there, holding another newborn baby girl. Two wristbands, a quick swap. Three minutes. Sophie Summer becomes Sophie Fischer. Jessica Fischer becomes Jessica Summer. That’s how they stole twenty years of my life. But right now, I’m just a newborn. I can’t talk, can’t roll over, can’t even hold up my own head. There are only three things I can do: cry, grab, and stay awake. But that’s enough. Ten years in the Underworld taught me one thing very clearly: a mother’s intuition about her child is the most sensitive alarm system in the world. I just need to activate it. My mother held me for a while, her eyelids drooping. My father whispered beside her, “Honey, you sleep first. I’ll watch her.” No. Last time, my father couldn’t stay awake and went to lie on the sofa for a bit. That’s when Brenda found her opportunity. I don’t need my father to watch me. I need my mother to hold me, pressed tightly against her, so no one can separate us. Just as my mother was about to put me back in the bassinet… “Waaaahhh!” I let out an ear-splitting scream. Not a normal cry, but a gut-wrenching shriek. My mother flinched and quickly pulled me back into her arms. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Don’t cry, don’t cry…” The moment she held me close, I went silent. My big eyes were filled with tears, and one tiny hand was clenched tightly around the collar of her hospital gown. My mother paused. “Look how tight she’s holding on. It’s like she’s afraid I’ll put her down.” My father reached out to take me. “WAAAAAHHH!” Louder this time, and sharper. He snatched his hand back, startled. I snuggled back into my mother’s arms, instantly quiet, still clutching her gown. My father didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “She’s only two hours old and already a mama’s girl?” Tears welled in my mother’s eyes. “It’s like she only wants me.” She tightened her arms, holding me firmly against her chest. “Then I won’t put her down. I’ll sleep with her in my arms tonight.” The minutes ticked by. At 2:00 AM, my father was snoring on the sofa. My mother was getting drowsy too, but I made sure to let out a little whimper every ten minutes, just enough to keep her in a state of half-sleep. 2:30 AM. 2:40 AM. 2:50 AM. My heart started to beat faster. 2:55 AM. Faint footsteps echoed from the end of the hall. The rubber-soled nurse’s shoes made almost no sound on the linoleum. But I heard them. The footsteps stopped outside our door. The doorknob turned slowly. A woman in a white coat pushed the door open. She was in her mid-thirties, with an average build and a standard professional smile. She was pushing a baby transport cart. Brenda Wallace. I’ve waited ten years for you. She lowered her voice. “Mrs. Summer, sorry to disturb you. It’s time for the baby’s newborn metabolic screening. We just need to draw a little blood from her heel. We’ll have her back in a minute.” My mother opened her eyes blearily. “A screening? Now?” “It’s usually done between two and four hours after birth. It’s easier while the baby is calm.” Her words were smooth, her tone gentle and professional. That’s how she had fooled my mother last time. My mother’s grip started to loosen. Now. “WAAAAAHHHHH!” My explosive cry ripped through the quiet room. I cried, kicked, shook my head, my whole body trembling. I curled into a tight ball, clinging to my mother’s chest. All ten of my tiny fingers dug into the fabric of her gown, as if they were welded there. My mother was startled and instinctively pulled me closer. “What is it, sweetheart?” My father shot up from the sofa. “What’s going on?” Brenda’s smile faltered for a second before she regained her composure. “Mr. Summer, it’s just a routine screening. The baby was probably just startled by our voices.” My father looked at me, wailing my heart out, then back at Brenda. “Does this screening have to be done right now?” “It’s hospital policy…” “My daughter doesn’t seem well. Can we do it tomorrow during the day?” Brenda’s mouth twitched. “And,” my father added, walking to the door and glancing down the hall, “I don’t think you’re the nurse on duty for this floor tonight.” The air froze for two seconds. “I… I’m covering for a colleague. She had an emergency.” My father said nothing, but his expression hardened. “Then please have the head nurse arrange it for tomorrow. Tonight is not convenient.” Brenda opened her mouth, as if to say more, but my father had already sat down next to my mother, one hand on her shoulder, the other patting my back. The message was clear. You can go. Brenda’s eyes lingered on me for a few seconds. Through my tear-blurred vision, I saw the coldness in her gaze. Then she turned and pushed the empty cart out of the room. I quieted down, snuggling into my mother’s warm embrace. She gently patted me, humming a tuneless lullaby. My father didn’t go back to the sofa. He stayed right there, sitting by the bed, watching us. 2 The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains. I had slept in my mother’s arms, though I hadn’t really closed my eyes all night. I acted like a perfectly well-behaved, angelic baby. The first thing my mother did when she woke up was look down at me. She found me looking right back at her. “Honey, look! She’s been watching me,” she said, delighted. My father leaned in, about to touch me. I immediately scrunched up my face, my lip quivering, my eyes turning red. His hand froze mid-air, and he sheepishly pulled it back. “Okay, okay, Daddy won’t touch. Daddy’s just looking.” My mother couldn’t help but laugh. “This little girl is my shadow. She won’t let anyone else near.” Exactly. I needed everyone to know: this baby only wants her mother. No one was taking me from her arms. During the morning rounds, the attending physician came in with a team. They gave me a full check-up and confirmed all my vitals were healthy. The newborn screening was also scheduled. It was done during the day, by the book, with the head nurse performing the procedure herself. My father watched the entire time, never leaving my side. I noticed his expression was different from the night before. Last night, it was instinctual caution. Today, it was conscious observation. After the doctors left, he said he was going to get breakfast and made a call in the hallway. His voice was low, but nestled in my mother’s arms, I could hear every word. “I need you to look into someone for me. Brenda Wallace, a nurse at this hospital. And pull the security footage from the third-floor maternity ward hallway from last night.” Good. My father wasn’t a fool. The founder of a security tech company, he had a natural sense for these things. He was already on it. At two in the afternoon, we had an unexpected visitor. A woman in her early thirties, wearing a simple floral-print hospital gown, with a round, friendly face. She peeked her head in and knocked softly on the doorframe. “Hi, Mrs. Summer. I’m Megan, from room 206 next door. I just had a baby girl yesterday too.” She smiled warmly. “Born on the same day, it must be fate. I thought I’d pop in and say hello.” My mother, still weak from childbirth, was happy for the company. “Please, come in!” Megan Fischer. Brenda Wallace’s cousin. The biological mother of the impostor, Jessica Fischer. Last time, she was the one who slipped her daughter into the Summer family and stole my life. Now, she walked in, her eyes scanning the room and landing on me with a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place. “Oh, your daughter is so beautiful and well-behaved. Can I hold her?” She reached out her hands. The hair on my arms stood on end. I let out a piercing cry, my face turning red, my limbs flailing wildly. My mother quickly pulled me back. “Oh, I’m so sorry. She’s very shy around strangers. She cries if anyone but me holds her.” Megan awkwardly withdrew her hands. “Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay. That’s normal for babies.” She didn’t insist, and instead started chatting with my mother about parenting. They talked about formula, diapers, and postpartum meals. As she talked, she subtly inched closer to my mother. Every time she got within three feet of the bassinet, I would start to whimper. When she backed away, I’d go quiet. After the third time, my mother noticed too. She didn’t say anything, but she unconsciously held me a little tighter. Megan stayed for about half an hour. As she was leaving, she said, “If you ever get tired, just call me. I can watch the baby for a bit. I’m right next door.” My mother politely agreed. But after the door closed, she looked down at me thoughtfully. “Sweetheart, do you not like that lady?” I nuzzled her hand and blinked quietly. My mother smiled, but there was a new seriousness in her eyes. “Okay, Mommy hears you. We’ll keep her away from you from now on.” That evening, my father returned. His expression was grim. He closed the door tightly and spoke to my mother in a low voice. “I had someone look into that nurse from last night, Brenda Wallace. She was only hired three months ago. Her resume, her education, her work experience—all fake.” My mother’s eyes widened. “What does that mean?” “And the security footage from the hallway last night—the cameras were malfunctioning during that exact time. Nothing was recorded.” “I’ve been in the security business for twenty years. I’ve never seen a malfunction that convenient.” The color drained from my mother’s face. She instinctively clutched me tighter, her voice trembling. “Are you saying… that person last night wasn’t here to do a screening?” My father didn’t answer directly. He sat on the edge of the bed, taking my mother’s hand in one of his and gently stroking my head with the other. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve already had my assistant file a police report and have the hospital upgrade its security.” “From now on, when I’m not here, no one—and I mean no one—is to touch Sophie.” My mother nodded vigorously. I closed my eyes and pressed my face against her chest. My father was already in motion. Twenty years earlier than last time. And all I had to do was continue being the perfect, mama’s-girl angel. 3 The day we were discharged, my father brought four bodyguards to pick us up. Two vans, a seamless transition. During the twenty-minute drive from the hospital to the Summer mansion, my mother held me without letting go for a second. My father sat in the front passenger seat, making one call after another. “Upgrade the entire home security system. I want zero blind spots.” “Install a smart alarm in the nursery. Real-time notifications to my phone anytime someone enters or leaves.” “Yes, re-screen all the nannies. Full background checks, including relatives three generations back.” I nestled in my mother’s arms, listening to his commands, feeling a deep sense of security. Last time, I was stolen because the Summers, despite their wealth, were too complacent about security. The idea of a baby swap was something they had never even considered. This time was different. My father was already in battle mode. Arriving at the Summer mansion, I entered this home as its rightful heir for the first time. Last time, I was twenty when I first walked through these doors. I was wearing a cheap dress, clutching a crumpled DNA test, shaking from head to toe. The security guard at the gate stopped me three times. “Who are you looking for? You don’t belong here.” Now, the butler respectfully opened the car door. The nanny rolled out a red carpet. My grandfather stood at the entrance, his face a web of smiling wrinkles. “My granddaughter is home! Let Grandpa have a look!” He reached out to hold me. As usual, I scrunched up my face. But this time, I managed not to cry. After all, my grandfather had been very good to me last time. After I was reunited with the family, he was the first one who wanted to give me a share of his inheritance. I just turned my head slightly and buried my face in my mother’s neck. My grandfather wasn’t offended at all. He just chuckled. “This little girl is just like her mother. Once she’s set on someone, you can’t pull her away. Good! She’s got character!” My grandmother stood behind him. She was wearing a dark red traditional dress, a polite smile on her face. But I noticed the way she looked at me was completely different from the way she looked at my grandfather. When she looked at him, her eyes were filled with attentiveness and deference. When she looked at me, there was only scrutiny. “Oh, she’s such a lovely baby. Just like her mother,” she said, reaching out to touch my cheek. I started crying without hesitation. A soft, pitiful whimper. Her hand froze. My mother quickly soothed me. “It’s okay, sweetheart, don’t be scared. It’s just Grandma.” My grandfather smoothed things over. “Haha, she’s just shy. She’ll get used to us in a couple of days.” My grandmother withdrew her hand, her smile unchanged, but a flicker of coldness crossed her eyes. That expression. I knew it so well. Last time, after I came back to the family, my grandmother had looked at me with that same expression. Polite, but with a deep-seated distance. I later learned that she had been against my father marrying my mother from the start. She thought my mother’s background wasn’t good enough for the Summer family. She had always wanted my uncle, Robert Summer, and his family to take over. Because my uncle’s wife was her niece. In other words, my uncle’s family were her people. The days after moving into the Summer mansion were quiet on the surface. For the first month, I maintained my “only-mommy” persona. Wherever my mother went, I was quiet. The moment she was out of my sight, I’d start to cry. This meant she barely left my side, and it also meant no one—not the nannies, not the butler, not even my grandmother—had a chance to be alone with me. My father’s investigation was also moving forward. He had someone pull Brenda Wallace’s phone records. There was one number she contacted frequently. The calls were short but regular. It was an unregistered burner phone. But through cell tower triangulation, they found that 70% of the time, the phone was used near the Summer mansion. My father’s face was grim as he spoke to his assistant in the study, his voice low. “So the person who hired Brenda is inside the Summer family.” An inside job. I already knew. But I couldn’t speak yet. I couldn’t tell my father who it was. All I could do was wait. Wait for him to find out himself. Or wait for the mole to slip up. As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait long. Two days before my one-month celebration, at eleven at night. My mother was fast asleep, and my father was in his study working. The nanny was off duty. I was alone in the nursery. It was quiet. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting pale patches of light on the ceiling. I lay with my eyes open, counting my breaths. One, two, three. Click. The sound of the doorknob turning. Someone pushed the nursery door open. The footsteps were light, deliberately so. A dark figure approached my crib. I couldn’t see her face, but I recognized the scent. It was Mrs. Davis, my grandmother’s housekeeper of over twenty years. She bent down and reached into the crib to pick me up. The moment her hand touched my blanket… “WAAAAAHHHHH!” I let out the loudest cry of my life. At the same second, the nursery’s smart alarm system was triggered. A piercing siren blared through the entire mansion. A notification popped up on my father’s phone. Mrs. Davis’s face, flickering in the red alarm light, was deathly pale. Less than twenty seconds later, my father burst into the room, my mother right behind him. “Mrs. Davis? What are you doing?!” She was trembling, her hand still frozen in mid-air. “I… I heard the baby crying, so I came to check…” My father pulled out his phone and played back the nursery’s security footage. The video was clear: Mrs. Davis entering the room, walking straight to the crib, bending down, and reaching in. It didn’t look like she was just checking. It looked like she was taking. “The truth,” my father’s voice was as sharp as a knife. “Who sent you?”

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Ten years ago, in the Great Explosion, my father sacrificed himself in the blaze, saving the entire city. Citizens forged a golden medal for him and voluntarily donated money to support my education. But my mother immediately used all of it for plastic surgery, marrying the richest man and becoming a high-society wife. To curry favor with my stepbrother, she even poured the remaining money into his gaming account. And I became the lowest servant in the household, part of her dowry, allowing myself to be beaten, cursed, and bullied with my mother’s tacit approval. In my senior year of high school, my stepbrother intentionally set fire to the school, causing the immediate death of twenty-three students who had already secured early university admissions. To protect him, my stepfather forced me to take the blame. He threw the confession at my face, disdainfully saying: “Little bastard, I’ve raised you for years; it’s time to collect some interest. The Blackwood family’s food isn’t free. You have no choice. Even if you don’t sign, I have plenty of ways to dump all the blame on you.” I bit my lip fiercely, looking at my mother, who had just returned from a cosmetic procedure. She hid her new alligator-skin bag, timidly saying. “Your father is right. Everyone else is dead. You were the twenty-fourth on the list who missed out on early admission. Even if you don’t sign, everyone will believe you set the fire.” I laughed through my tears. My father was a fire hero, but now, they were making me personally tarnish his name. … My stepfather noticed the defiance in my eyes and slapped me, sending me sprawling. “You brat, you dare glare at me? A few days without a beating and your skin’s itching, huh?” “If I hadn’t agreed to let a bastard like you into my home back then, you’d have starved to death! It’s your good fortune to take the blame for Jerry! Don’t be ungrateful!” My ears rang, and my head swam. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, splattering onto the confession papers. I wiped away my tears, grabbed the scattered pages, and tore them to shreds. My stepfather’s face flushed crimson above the neck. He grabbed the mop from the doorway, ready to strike me. “You little rascal, you’ve gone rogue!” My mother, Clarice, who had been silent, suddenly threw herself onto my back, shielding me tightly beneath her. My whole body trembled. Over the years, I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be protected by my mother. My stepfather and Jerry Blackwood had short tempers. They would often take their anger out on me when displeased; beatings and curses were commonplace. At first, Clarice would stand by, weeping incessantly. Later, she tried to persuade me to endure it, saying the pain would pass. Eventually, whenever I was hit, she would hide in her bedroom. This was the first time she had protected me. A bitter ache welled up, but the very next second, her words dragged me back to reality. “Elara, Mommy is begging you, please sign it. For Mommy’s sake, okay?” For her? The year Dad died, Clarice immediately used all the survivor’s benefits and donations for plastic surgery and luxury bags. Yet that year, I couldn’t even pay the thirty dollars for my textbooks. When had she ever cared about me? Just then, her precarious alligator-skin bag finally fell from the table. A stack of confessions, too many for me to tear, spilled out. I suppressed the tears that threatened to overflow again and broke free from Clarice’s embrace. “You want to force me to sign too? You want to ruin my entire life?” “My grades are enough to get into the top universities. That’s not just my dream; it was Dad’s lifelong aspiration.” Clarice lowered her head, avoiding my gaze, her voice as thin as a mosquito’s buzz. “Elara, what’s the use of a girl going to school? Don’t they all end up marrying anyway? It’s all the same. Just think of prison as going to school. When you get out, Mommy will definitely arrange a good match for you.” I swallowed the metallic taste of blood welling up, choked out: “Selling yourself wasn’t enough, you want to sell me again?” “Am I really your biological child? A birth mother forcing her daughter to take the fall for her murderous stepson—how absurd.” Hearing this, my stepfather, who had been pacing with the broom, turned deathly pale. Clarice quickly slapped my mouth, all gentleness gone from her face. “That’s your brother! He’s the future heir of the Blackwood family! How can you tarnish his reputation?” “The money you eat and use is Jerry’s future inheritance! You owe him all of this; you could be his slave for life and still never repay him!” Hearing those words, I laughed aloud. At the Blackwood mansion, I barely ate and had worn-out clothes during the day, sleeping in the basement at night. I never received a single cent. They ordered me to do this and that, eventually even firing the housekeeper and dumping all the chores on me. I wasn’t spending their money. I was spending the wages I earned as a servant! I threw away the pen and the new confession Clarice offered, stubbornly stating: “I don’t owe any of you anything!” “My father was a fire hero. I will never take the blame and tarnish his name!” My stepfather instantly erupted in fury. Clarice immediately cowered to the side. The broom repeatedly swung at me, causing me agonizing pain. My stepfather still felt it wasn’t enough and then pulled out his belt, savagely lashing me. Soon, new wounds mixed with old, leaving me barely clinging to life. Just then, the butler knocked on the villa’s grand hall door from outside. “Mr. Blackwood, a group of reporters has arrived, and they’re live-streaming!” My stepfather smiled, telling the butler to quickly invite the reporters in, his whipping arm not pausing for a second. The arriving reporters were all astonished by the horrific scene in the living room. Many looked at me with sympathy. The lead reporter made a move to help me up. “Mr. Blackwood, we’re here today to interview Elara, the twenty-fourth person who wasn’t caught in the fire. What happened to make you lay such a heavy hand on a child?” I widened my swollen eyelids, recognizing him as Reporter Davis, who had previously covered my father’s story. Just as I was about to cry for help, my stepfather sighed deeply, covering his face in sorrow: “Her mother and I personally heard her admit that she set the school fire. She said if the top twenty-three early admits all died, then she would be the one going to the top universities! We urged her to turn herself in, but she refused, even if it meant death.” “I am only her stepfather, and technically, I have no right to discipline her. But what she did is truly outrageous, twenty-three innocent lives! Even if I’m cursed for it, today I must discipline her properly for her heroic father!” Reporter Davis immediately let go of my hand, allowing me to collapse back onto the floor. He disgustedly wiped the bloodstained tissues repeatedly, angrily cursing: “Your biological father was a hero who saved the entire city, but you committed arson and harmed others! You are an absolute disgrace to him!” “Many kind-hearted people donated money back then, fearing you wouldn’t live well. What a waste of good intentions, feeding it to a dog!” “How could Captain Reed give birth to such a heartless beast like you!” No investigation, no evidence. They convicted me based on mere words. Reporter Davis glanced at the scrolling comments, then gave my stepfather a secret nod of affirmation before turning his camera to Clarice. Clarice opened her mouth, instantly bursting into tears. She fiercely slapped herself. “It’s all my fault. I didn’t discipline her well enough. She’s always been jealous since she was little. If only I had guided and educated her properly, those twenty-three children wouldn’t have died.” “She kept saying that no one would suspect her of arson because of her status as a martyr’s child. But Elara, heaven sees what people do!” With that, she made to kneel before me. “Mommy kneels and begs you, turn yourself in!” Reporter Davis quickly shoved the camera into my face. The scrolling comments clearly slammed into my eyes. “Why weren’t you the one who died back then! Murderer, go to hell!” “You, wanting to go to the top universities? Go to hell!” “Could it be that your dad set that fire back then!” … Filthy words turned into sharp knives, slowly torturing me. Dad sacrificed his life for a greater cause; I couldn’t let him be disgraced because of me. My lips trembled. I stared unblinkingly at the camera. “It wasn’t me! The one who set the fire was…” Before I could finish, my stepfather lashed my mouth with a whip. “Still not confessing!” He turned, feigning disappointment, “She locked her room tightly, not letting us in to find evidence. Even if I beat her to death, I couldn’t get justice for the unjustly dead children!” Reporter Davis then suggested breaking into my bedroom under the camera’s supervision to search. My stepfather and Clarice unhesitatingly took the reporters upstairs. It was then I realized my room had been moved from the basement to Jerry Blackwood’s former room, which had the best lighting. Soon after, my stepfather came downstairs, clutching a diary. He slammed it in front of me. It was filled with “Top Universities” and “Hate,” written in my handwriting. All the surrounding reporters instantly grew excited, each wishing they could shove me directly into the camera. “You envied and hated the twenty-three students who received early admissions to the top universities, so you deliberately lured them into the activity room and set it on fire. So young, yet so ruthless!” “Quickly sign the confession and come with us to turn yourself in!” “Confess!” “Go to hell!” “Beat her to death!” scrolled rapidly across the comments section. The cries grew louder and louder. My stepfather’s eyes darted, signaling the reporters to turn off the live stream. Unrestrained by the cameras, my stepfather grabbed my head and violently smashed it against the floor. “Little bastard, still not signing?” I shook my throbbing head and spat a mouthful of blood at him. “Pah, I… will never confess.” My stepfather, his face covered in blood, grinned sinisterly. “Now I am disciplining you at the urging of the vast netizens. I’d like to see how long your stubborn bones can last!” With that, he grabbed a stick, aiming to smash my leg. A shriek came from outside the door. “The murderer isn’t Elara, stop!” My stepfather’s face changed. The next second, the class president, Fiona, rushed in from the doorway towards my bruised and battered body, but she was immediately restrained by the Blackwood family’s butler and bodyguards. She was on the verge of tears, gasping as she shouted to the reporter holding the camera: “I’m Elara’s class president! I know her; she would never commit arson!” A warm current continually surged through my heart. She had been my classmate for over ten years, and my best friend. In the ten years since Dad passed, she had always protected me and helped me. Now, everyone had branded me a murderer, but only she still stood firmly by my side. Fiona struggled and shouted repeatedly. My stepfather’s eyes flashed with ruthlessness, and he signaled the butler to release her. Just as Fiona was about to rush to me, my stepfather lifted his foot and fiercely kicked her away. He then, gripping the stick like a demon, walked towards Fiona, who lay clutching her abdomen. “Class president, my ass? A cleaner’s daughter, daring to meddle in my Blackwood family’s affairs? Getting a beating for trespassing is perfectly reasonable, isn’t it?” Realizing what he was about to do, I nearly collapsed, roaring, “Don’t mind me, run!” Seeing the stick about to fall on Fiona, I desperately grabbed a nearby vase and threw it at my stepfather. Clarice suddenly shrieked. My stepfather turned, smashing the airborne vase with one swing. His face was livid. He raised the stick high above his head and brought it down forcefully on my right leg. The sound of bones shattering echoed, and I cried out in excruciating pain. Clarice stumbled, crying, to my side, but her words chilled me to the bone. “Elara, stop being so stubborn, just confess. Do you have to harm yourself and drag others down too? Mommy is begging you!” My whole body trembled uncontrollably from the pain, tears and blood mixing to cover my face. I gritted my teeth: “No, I am not a murderer! My father was a hero; I am not his disgrace!” Clarice still wanted to persuade me. Just then, Fiona, lying on the ground, cursed furiously: “Elara is not a murderer! You all are! If it weren’t for Uncle Reed back then, the entire city would have died. You show no gratitude, instead, you use a fake diary to force Elara to confess to an enormous crime, you ungrateful wretches!” She turned to Clarice. “You cherish someone else’s son like gold, but treat your own daughter like a servant. You dare call yourself a mother? Bah, disgusting!” Clarice’s eyes glazed over, frozen in place. Suddenly, Fiona turned and, pushing herself up, rushed towards Reporter Davis’s camera. “You’ve all been deceived! I am reporting, under my real name, that the one truly resentful about early university admission was their son, Jerry Blackwood!” A hush fell over the scene. The next second, my stepfather walked up to her, holding his stick and laughing loudly. “You filthy bitch, you don’t know, do you? These reporters are all mine! The live stream was shut down the moment you walked in!” “Dare to expose my son? You really have a death wish. What should I do with you?” I immediately sensed danger and cried out, “What are you doing? Stay away from her!” “Fiona, run!” Fiona’s face was pale, but she bravely comforted me. “Elara, don’t be afraid. This is a society governed by law; they wouldn’t dare to casually kill anyone! Besides, my life was saved by Uncle Reed. Even if I die today, it’s worth it!” I shook my head in terror. My stepfather reached out and touched her face. “I wouldn’t dare to casually kill anyone, but I can find dozens of men to keep you company.” He turned, his gaze venomous, to me. “Still not signing, Elara? Or do you want to personally see how many men your good class president can endure?” Despair enveloped me, pulling me into an abyss. “I…” Before I could utter the word “sign,” a familiar voice came from outside the door.

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