The girl who stole my life swapped places with me, determined to make my husband and my son her own. Yet, after five long years, she gained nothing but a body covered in scars. When her mission failed, her system offered her a choice of how she wanted to leave this world. She chose the ultimate sacrifice—taking a bullet for them, dying right before their eyes. But they barely spared a glance at her cold body. The moment the universe spun me back into their reality, they turned and threw their arms around me, holding me as if I were their only lifeline. “You’re back…” Their voices trembled, choked with unshed tears. I held them just as tightly. For five agonizing years of forced separation, my dreams had been haunted by nothing but them. Then, a few days ago, I accidentally scraped my cheek, leaving a thin, jagged scar. To hide it, I got a small, delicate tattoo over the mark. But when my husband and son saw it, the warmth in their eyes vanished instantly. Gordon’s grip clamped around my throat, squeezing the air from my lungs. “Why did you get a tattoo?!” he roared, his eyes bloodshot. “You only looked fifty percent like her to begin with! Now even that fifty percent is gone! How am I supposed to pretend you’re her?!” Looking into his crazed, desperate eyes, a bitter laugh bubbled up in my chest. Put her back, I whispered to my own system. What they didn’t know was that while the interloper had failed her mission with them, my mission in the other world had been a flawless success. … Just as the darkness started closing in on my vision, Gordon let go. I collapsed onto the hardwood floor, gasping for air, clutching my bruised neck. His eyes were rimmed with red, staring down at me, but he wasn’t seeing me. He was looking at a ghost. “You don’t look like her anymore,” he whispered, his voice cracking. He turned and walked into the bedroom. Jamie, my son, stood by the doorway. He looked down at me, his eyes filled with a deep, crushing disappointment. The bedroom door clicked shut. Through the slight gap in the frame, I could see them. Father and son, huddled together, staring at a photograph. Jamie clung to his father’s chest, sobbing softly. “Daddy, is she really gone? Is there nothing left of her?” Gordon’s throat bobbed. His voice was a strangled, suppressed rasp. “No, buddy. She’s still here.” “But Mommy doesn’t look like her anymore… not at all…” My hand, which had been reaching for the door handle, slowly dropped to my side. A sudden, hysterical laugh slipped through my lips. But I am the real one, I wanted to scream. I am your wife. I am your mother. I was supposed to have a happy life. It was Lydia, the interloper, who had run from a toxic, abusive home in her own world. She had heard of my perfect marriage, my sweet, obedient son, and she had stolen my place without a second thought. She was the thief who took everything from me. So why was she the one being mourned? I turned away and slumped onto the sofa. If I had known, I thought, staring blankly at the wall, I would have never come back. The bedroom door flew open. Gordon marched out and grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. “Come on.” “What are you doing?” “That thing on your face,” he growled, glaring at the tiny tattoo. “We’re getting it removed.” “Gordon, let go of me! You’re hurting me!” The man who used to cradle me and call me his absolute world was gone. He was deaf to my cries. Before I knew it, I was dragged back into the tattoo parlor. The tattoo artist looked at Gordon and Jamie, shaking his head apologetically. “This ink is layered over deep scar tissue. Laser removal won’t work. Even if we try, the original scar will be warped and ruined.” For a second, a flash of pure panic crossed Gordon’s face. “Then cut it out.” The words hung in the sterile air. Both the artist and I froze. “Excuse me?” the artist asked, blinking in disbelief. “Cut that piece of skin out,” Gordon said, his voice deadly flat. “Do a skin graft. You clinics have the technology for that, don’t you?” The artist stammered, looking between us. “I mean… we can refer you to a cosmetic surgeon, yes, but… is that really necessary?” Gordon turned toward the exit, holding Jamie’s hand. He paused at the door, casting a cold glance back at me. “It is necessary. Even if it’s only a fifty percent resemblance. It’s worth it.” I passed out from the sheer pain. My body has always had a high tolerance to local anesthetics, rendering them useless. When I finally woke up, the skin on my cheek was tight, raw, and completely clear of both the scar and the ink. The tears I had cried before blacking out were still dry and sticky on my temples. Someone was holding my hand tightly. Gordon leaned over, pulling me into a suffocating embrace. His voice was muffled against my shoulder. “I’m sorry…” I rested my chin on his shoulder, my voice hollow. “When you say you’re sorry, are you apologizing to me? Or to the fantasy living in your head?” The arms wrapping around me stiffened. Slowly, he let go. His fingers gently traced my newly grafted cheek. A self-deprecating, bitter smile played on his lips. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “She is never coming back.” I couldn’t tell if he was trying to reassure me or convince himself. With a heavy sigh, he stood up. “Get some rest,” he muttered, closing the bedroom door behind him. Jamie was standing right behind him. Before he stepped out, he looked back at me. “Mommy, you look so much prettier like this.” I didn’t ask him why. Was it because the scar was gone? Or because I finally looked like his beloved Lydia again? I didn’t want to hear the answer. I was terrified of the truth. I closed my eyes, summoning the silent interface of my system. Have you found a way to send me back? Yes, host. It is the same exit mechanism the previous interloper used. If your physical body dies in this world, your soul will be pulled back to the world you just left. So simple. I turned my head toward the open window. Six floors up. More than enough. I crawled out, sitting on the narrow ledge, letting the cold wind whip against my face. In that other world, there were two people waiting for me. Two people who loved me for me. I closed my eyes and let myself fall. “Isla!” A hand shot out of the darkness and clamped onto my wrist with brutal strength. I opened my eyes in shock. Gordon’s face was distorted, the veins on his forehead bulging with fury. With a violent heave, he dragged me back inside. Before I could even catch my breath, a sharp slap stung my face. “Are you out of your mind?! Who gave you permission to jump?!” I fell to the floor, cupping my burning cheek. The next second, his fingers dug painfully into my jaw, forcing my face up. He sneered, his breath hot against my skin. “Do you honestly think your life belongs to you? You are the only vessel left of her in this world! How dare you try to destroy it!” I stared at him, my world crumbling. “Gordon…” My voice shook, barely a whisper. He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “Or is this some pathetic attempt to copy her? Are you trying to die so we’ll be plagued with guilt, so we’ll hate her memory and love you instead?” I couldn’t believe these words were coming from the man who had once sworn to love me forever. He shoved my chin away. “It won’t work, Isla. No one in this world will ever replace her. No one will ever be like her. So you are going to live. You are going to stay alive.” He looked down at me, his eyes cold as ice. “You will live for her.” I clenched my jaw, pushing myself up. A slow, mocking smile spread across my face. “What if I told you that if I die, she comes back?” Gordon’s breath hitched. Beside him, Jamie’s eyes widened in sheer shock. The room fell into a suffocating silence. Then, Gordon spoke. “If that’s the truth… I’d prefer you die right now.” My nails dug so deep into my palms that they nearly drew blood. “However,” Gordon continued, his eyes narrowing, “I can’t rule out the possibility that you’re lying just to punish us—to rob us of the only physical piece of her we have left.” “I am not lying!” “Don’t flatter yourself, Isla.” He grabbed my jaw again, tilting my face toward the dim light, studying my features. “Even if there is a one-in-a-million chance you’re telling the truth, I won’t risk it. You might only look fifty percent like her… but it’s still her face.” “Gordon!” I hissed, swinging my arm to slap him. He caught my wrist effortlessly. Wrapping his other arm around my waist, he pinned me against him, looking down at me. “All you need to do right now is sleep.” He threw me onto the bed, pulling the duvet over my body. Before he walked out, he called the house security. Within hours, the windows were barred, the doors reinforced. Every exit was sealed. I was a prisoner in my own home. I stopped eating. I refused even a single drop of water. For two days, the maids begged and pleaded, but I didn’t budge. Death is the only way out, I kept telling myself. Once I die, I can go back to that other world. It might have been simulated, but the love there was real. I closed my eyes, only to hear the heavy click of the door opening. It was Jamie. He glanced at the untouched tray of food on the nightstand, then walked over, resting his chin on the edge of the mattress. His dark, expressive eyes—so much like his father’s—blinked at me. “Mommy, are you trying to do what Mommy Lydia did? Do you think if you die, we’ll magically fall in love with you?” I froze. He giggled, showing his sharp little canine teeth. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up if I were you. We didn’t love Mommy Lydia because she died for us. We loved her long before that. You’re so silly, Mommy. Your logic is terrible.” He pushed the tray a little closer to me. “I can’t accept anyone else as my mother anymore.” Jamie stared at me with a chilling coldness. “So you should just give up.” He turned on his heel and strolled out of the room. I stared at the cold food, letting out a soft, mocking laugh. I didn’t touch a bite. Soon enough, the door was kicked open. Gordon burst in, hauling me out of bed by my shoulders. “Isla! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” I was completely drained of energy, but I managed a weak, sarcastic smirk. “I’m trying to die. Isn’t it obvious?” “You—!” “Gordon…” my voice was barely audible. “I suggest you let me go. Because if I starve to death in secret, you might not find my body until it’s too late. And a decaying corpse won’t look much like your precious Lydia, will it?” “Shut up!” he snarled, pinching my jaw tight. “I told you, this emotional blackmail won’t work! Bring the food in!” A maid rushed in with a bowl of soup. “I don’t care if you want to rot,” Gordon hissed, “but you are not taking her face to the grave with you!” “Gordon, let go of me—mmph!” He took a mouthful of the green soup and slammed his lips against mine, forcing the liquid down my throat. I had no strength to push him away, no power to break his hold. The fluid rushed down the wrong pipe, and I began to choke, coughing violently. Gordon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “If you don’t want to be force-fed like an animal, eat it yourself.” I collapsed over the edge of the mattress, gasping for breath. “Isla?” Still, I didn’t answer. “Isla!” He grabbed my shoulder, forcing me to face him, but his voice suddenly cut off. He stared down at the bedsheets. Beneath my clutching hands, a dark, brilliant red was blooming across my pajamas. “You…” His breath hitched in panic. Realization struck him like a physical blow. He scooped me into his arms, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Call an ambulance! Someone call a damn ambulance!” “The pregnancy is threatened, but we can still save the baby,” the doctor announced, standing by my hospital bed. Gordon stood frozen, staring at me in utter disbelief. I pulled the hospital blanket tightly over my stomach, turning my face toward the wall. His voice was cracked and hollow. “When… when did this happen?” “She’s three months pregnant,” the doctor said, looking between us. “Did neither of you realize?” Three months. It happened the very night I was pulled back to this world. Gordon’s eyes welled with tears. “Sir?” the doctor asked, sensing the tension. “Are you alright?” “I’m fine…” Gordon whispered, shaking his head. Then, he looked away. “Terminate it. If Lydia… if she knew I had a child with another woman, it would break her heart.” The doctor stared at him, appalled. “But sir, the fetus is viable. We can save it.” “No. Perform the abortion. Just make sure there are no complications.” Without another word, Gordon turned and walked out of the room. The doctor turned to me, her eyes softening with pity. “It’s fine,” I said, forcing a pale smile. “I didn’t want it either.” “You… oh, dear.” The doctor sighed, heading out to prep the OR. I closed my eyes, sinking into the silence. The procedure was a blur of hazy consciousness; I woke up a few times under the light sedation, feeling the cold instruments and a deep, empty ache in my abdomen. But eventually, it was over. I was brought back to the house to recover. True to form, Gordon remained by my bedside. When he walked into the room, I was propped up against the pillows, staring out at the grey sky. “I’m sorry,” he said, resting his hand gently over mine. “But we already have Jamie.” “I know,” I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the window. “Isla, you know as well as I do that we can’t control who we love. It’s just like how you and I fell in love once. But five years is a long time. Things change. You must understand that.” I kept silent. He squeezed my hand tighter. “You will still be my only wife. I’ll keep my vow to you. But I can’t betray her memory. If we had another child… I wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye in the next life.” With a sudden burst of energy, I yanked my hand back. The movement was so sharp it knocked a small plastic bottle off the nightstand. It rolled across the floor and stopped at Gordon’s feet. He picked it up. Even with his basic knowledge of medicine, the bold chemical name printed on the label was unmistakable. It was an abortifacient. “Isla…” He turned the bottle over, counting the empty blister packs. The dosage aligned perfectly with the days since I had first tried to escape. “This wasn’t a miscarriage.” I finally turned my head to look at him, a sharp, bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Did you really think I was just starving myself? I was taking those pills every single day.” “How could you?!” he roared, slamming the bottle down. He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me back against the window frame. I stared up at him, my smile widening. “Did you honestly think I would carry a child of yours? To be honest, Gordon, I regret ever giving birth to Jamie!” “You—” His chest heaved, his face pale with fury. “Why? Why are you doing this to me? Do you hate me that much? I’m the one who failed you! Punish me, not an innocent child!” “There’s no need, Gordon.” I wrapped my fingers around his wrists, slowly pulling myself closer to his face. “Did you know? While Lydia was trying to win you over in this world, I was given my own mission in another. She failed hers. But I succeeded in mine.” Gordon’s eyes widened. “What… what are you talking about?” “There are people waiting for me, Gordon. In that other world, I have a real family.” “Stop talking nonsense!” His voice shook, panic bleeding through his anger. But I only laughed, a beautiful, free sound. “Goodbye, Gordon. I hope you and your ghost have a wonderful life together.” With one final surge of strength, I shoved him back, tilted my weight, and let myself fall backward out of the window. “Isla!!” “Mommy!!” In that final, fleeting second of weightlessness, I saw a figure leap out of the window right after me, throwing himself into the empty air.
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