When I opened my eyes, I had returned to five years ago—the exact day my boyfriend, Liam Vance, was supposed to enter an arranged marriage with the wealthy heiress, Chloe Sterling. In my past life, I was kicked out of the Vance family without knowing I was pregnant. Five years later, Liam was diagnosed with leukemia and desperately needed a bone marrow transplant. Chloe, having discovered she was infertile, hid the truth from everyone and stole my daughter. My little girl died a tragic death while being used to save Liam. Reborn, I hid for five whole years, raising my daughter, Aria, to be healthy and chubby. This year, on Valentine’s Day, I brought Aria to the waterfront promenade to sell roses. Someone set off fireworks. The loud explosions terrified Aria, and she ran into the crowd crying. I chased after her, only to see her bump straight into Liam’s legs. Liam stared at the two identical little faces—hers and his own childhood photos—and gasped. He picked the child up, his voice trembling: “How… how old are you?” “Five!” “Who is your mother?” “Maya. She’s right over there.” 1 The wind coming off the water was freezing. I pulled my scarf tighter, crouching by my little stand to organize the roses. I wrapped them in cellophane, bunch by bunch, and placed them in plastic buckets. It was Valentine’s Day, and the promenade was packed with people selling flowers. Aria stood beside me, her little hands red from the cold, helping me count the dollar bills. “Mommy, will we sell them all today?” “We will.” I patted her head, my voice soft. A five-year-old child, so well-behaved it broke my heart. She never threw tantrums, never asked for toys. She only asked, “Will we sell them all today?” Because if we sold them all, we could afford to eat meat tomorrow. Music drifted over from a distance. Someone was proposing by the water. Fireworks shot into the sky. Aria looked up, her eyes sparkling. “Mommy, it’s so pretty!” “Yeah, it’s beautiful.” I looked at the fireworks, feeling absolutely nothing inside. In my past life, Liam had set off fireworks for me, too. It was my eighteenth birthday. He told me he would marry me. Later, he broke that promise. Bang—! A massive firework exploded, and the crowd surged backward. Aria flinched, her little face turning pale. “Mommy! I’m scared!” She stumbled, and a wave of pedestrians separated us. My heart seized. I lunged forward. “Aria! Don’t run!” There were too many people on the pier. She was so small, and in the blink of an eye, she was gone. I desperately shoved through the crowd, my hands shaking. I couldn’t lose her. I couldn’t lose her again. Finally, I spotted that tiny silhouette. She had bumped right into a man’s legs. The man was wearing a long black wool coat, his figure tall and lean. My breath stopped. It was Liam. It had been five years. He looked exactly the same. Handsome, aloof, looking down at the world from on high. Only now, there was a trace of exhaustion between his brows. I rushed over. Just as he was about to get a clear look at Aria’s face, I snatched her up and buried her face into my chest. He didn’t see what she looked like. Liam looked at me, his brow furrowing. “Are you…?” “Thank you.” I cut him off, holding Aria tight. Keeping my head down so he couldn’t see my face, I turned to walk away. “Wait!” He called out. With my child in my arms and my back to him, I froze. “Little girl, what’s your name?” He was asking Aria. Aria answered in her sweet, milky voice: “I’m Aria.” “Aria…” He repeated it, his voice sounding somewhat dazed. “Liam!” A woman’s voice rang out. Chloe Sterling ran over in her designer heels and linked her arm through Liam’s. “Why did you walk so fast…” Before she could finish her sentence, she saw me, and she saw Aria in my arms. More accurately, she saw Aria’s face over my shoulder. She froze completely, her eyes widening in shock. My heart sank. This was bad. Aria looked entirely too much like Liam did when he was a child. This was the exact time Liam was diagnosed with leukemia. If they recognized us, they would definitely force Aria to do the bone marrow transplant. Holding Aria tight, I walked quickly into the thick of the crowd. “Liam…” Chloe’s voice drifted from behind me, trembling. “That child…” “What?” Liam’s voice. I walked even faster. Aria wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered: “Mommy, why are we running?” “It’s nothing, baby. Mommy is taking you home.” I ducked through the crowd and glanced back one last time. Chloe was standing frozen in place, staring in our direction. Liam was beside her, talking to her. By the time we got back to our cramped apartment in the working-class part of the city, my hands were still shaking. I laid Aria on the bed. She had already fallen asleep, exhausted from the scare. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her face. This face… It was what got her killed in my past life. In this life, I would not let tragedy repeat itself. But… I saw Chloe’s expression just now. She recognized her. She definitely recognized Aria’s face. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Maya, don’t be afraid. No matter what happens, you cannot panic. My phone suddenly buzzed. It was an unknown number. I hesitated for a moment, then answered. “Hello?” “Maya. Long time no see.” It was Chloe—Liam’s arranged fiancée, and his current wife. 2 My heart dropped. “How did you get my number?” “Finding you was easy,” she said with a light laugh, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Maya, that little girl from earlier… is she your daughter?” I stayed silent. “She’s so cute,” Chloe paused. “She looks just like Liam did when he was little.” I gripped my phone tighter. “Chloe, what are you trying to say?” “Nothing, I’m just curious. Who is the father?” She laughed. I bit my lip. “That’s none of your business.” “Don’t be mad,” Chloe’s voice grew even sweeter. “I just care about you. Raising a child all by yourself must be so hard, right?” “Chloe,” I said calmly. “I have nothing to do with the Vance family anymore. I’m no longer their foster daughter, and I will never be your enemy. Live a good life with Liam, and leave me alone.” I hung up. The phone rang again. It was her. I powered the phone off completely. I tossed it onto the table and leaned back in my chair. Trouble was coming. Chloe recognized Aria. What would she do? Tell Liam? Or… I remembered her methods from my past life. She wouldn’t just tell Liam. She would wait until Liam was diagnosed with leukemia, then she would steal Aria, telling Liam she simply found a random orphan who was a match. Then… Aria would have her bone marrow extracted over and over again, eventually dying before she even turned six. And Liam would never even know that the person saving him was his own daughter. I leaned back, closing my eyes as the memories flooded in like a tidal wave. When I was eight, the Vance family took me in. It was raining that day. I was squatting on the steps of the foster home, hugging my knees. Mrs. Vance, wearing a sleek black dress, held an umbrella. She looked down at me and frowned. “You’re Maya?” “Yes.” I nodded. “From today on, you are a child of the Vance family,” Mrs. Vance said. “Your new brother is a bit aloof. You need to be obedient, understand?” “I understand,” I whispered. Back then, I thought I finally had a real home. When we arrived at the Vance estate, Liam was standing by the door. He was two years older than me. Ten years old. Wearing a crisp white button-down, he looked incredibly cold. “Liam, this is your new sister. Take good care of her,” Mrs. Vance said. Liam glanced at me. “Whatever.” He turned and walked inside. I followed behind him, walking on eggshells. The Vance family was a cold place. Mrs. Vance was polite but distant. Mr. Vance was always busy; I barely saw him. Only Liam occasionally acknowledged my existence. Once, I was bullied by some kids at school. They called me an unwanted orphan. I ran home crying. I hid under the covers in my room, sobbing alone. The door suddenly pushed open. Liam stood in the doorway. “Stop crying, it’s annoying.” He frowned. I wiped my tears, not daring to make a sound. Liam walked over and tossed a piece of candy at me. “Eat this and shut up.” I stared blankly at the candy. It was my favorite milk caramel. “Thank you…” “Don’t thank me.” Liam turned to leave. “If anyone bullies you again, tell me.” And with that, he left. Leaving me alone, clutching that piece of candy, crying and laughing at the same time. From that day on, I followed him everywhere. Like a little shadow. Wherever he went, I went. Whatever he did, I watched. This went on until I turned eighteen. I knew I had fallen in love with him, but I never dared to say it. Our social statuses were worlds apart. Until one winter night, Liam got drunk, and I helped him back to his room. He suddenly grabbed my hand. “Maya.” He looked at me, his eyes hazy. “Do you know? I love you.” I froze. “I’ve loved you for a long time,” he said. “But I didn’t dare say it, because you’re supposed to be my sister.” Tears fell from my eyes. “I… I love you too…” Liam smiled. He pulled me in and kissed me. From that day on, we were together. Secretly. Terrified of Mrs. Vance finding out. Liam said that as soon as he took over the company, he would marry me. I believed him. Like an idiot, I believed him for two years. Until five years ago, Mrs. Vance called me into her study. She sat behind her massive mahogany desk, her face ice-cold. “Maya, I know about you and Liam.” 3 “Mrs. Vance…” “Pack your things. You’re moving out tomorrow,” she cut me off. “The Vance family doesn’t need you anymore. Liam has grown up. He doesn’t need a live-in babysitter anymore.” I froze. “Besides, Chloe is returning from abroad.” Mrs. Vance looked at me. “She is the one Liam is meant to marry. A true socialite, a billionaire heiress. You are just a stray we picked up from a foster home. You aren’t worthy of him.” I bit my lip, tears spilling over. “But… but Liam said he was going to marry me…” “That was before he understood what the right choice was,” she sneered. I ran to find Liam. He was standing in his bedroom, his back to me. “Liam…” I cried. “Your mother told me to move out… tell her you’re going to marry me. Please…” Liam turned around. His eyes were completely devoid of warmth. “Maya, I’m sorry. I’m marrying Chloe,” he said calmly. “Chloe’s family can help the Vance empire.” “But you said you’d marry me…” I grabbed his hand. “That was just talk.” Liam shook me off. “Maya, it’s time to grow up. Stop dreaming.” I looked at him, my heart shattering into a million pieces. “Did you… did you ever love me at all?” Liam fell silent. After a long time, he finally said: “I do. But love doesn’t change anything. I have more important things to do.” I collapsed onto the floor. A flash of pain crossed Liam’s eyes. But ultimately, he turned and walked away. It was New Year’s Eve. I packed my bags. Mrs. Vance stood by the door, watching me coldly. Carrying my suitcase, I walked out of the Vance estate. The place I had once thought was my home. It was snowing outside. I stood by the gates and looked back one last time. Liam was standing at the second-floor window. Looking down at me. Our eyes met. Then, I turned and walked away, and I never looked back. I opened my eyes, my mind clear and cold. That was the past. That naive, crying Maya was dead. In this life, I would never love him again. And I would never shed another tear for him. Early the next morning, I took Aria to the wholesale flower market to restock. As soon as we reached the entrance, I saw a black SUV parked by the curb. My chest tightened. The door opened. Chloe stepped out, followed by two men in black suits. She was wearing a beige trench coat and designer heels. Seeing me, she smiled. “Maya. What a coincidence.” I shielded Aria behind me. “What do you want?” “Don’t be nervous.” Chloe walked over. “I just wanted to have a chat.” “We have nothing to chat about.” I grabbed Aria’s hand to leave, but the two men blocked my path. “Move!” I glared at them. “It’s broad daylight, what are you trying to do?!” “Don’t get so worked up.” Chloe stepped right in front of me and looked down at Aria. “Little girl, how old are you?” Aria hid behind my legs, staying silent. “Five, right?” Chloe smiled. “If I do the math, she was born the exact same year you left the Vance family.” I bit my lip, saying nothing. Chloe looked at me. “Liam is the father, isn’t he?” “It’s none of your business.” “Of course it’s my business.” Her smile vanished. “If this child belongs to Liam, it is absolutely my business.” I stared at her, my blood running cold. I could never let her take Aria. “She’s not his.” “I did my research.” Chloe pulled a stack of photos from her coat. “For the past five years, you’ve been raising this kid completely alone. There has never been a man in the picture. So, the father can only be Liam.” I clenched my fists. “What do you want?” “Simple.” Chloe held out a piece of paper. “Five hundred thousand dollars.” “Take the money and leave. Go anywhere you want, just don’t ever show your face in this city again. And the child stays with me! I will raise her as my own!” I looked at her and sneered. “I won’t take your money, and I won’t disappear. If you want to tell Liam…” “I think you’re the one who should be afraid. If Liam finds out I’m in the city, with how deeply he loved me, and with Aria here… your status as Mrs. Vance will be nothing but an empty title.” “So I suggest you don’t do anything stupid.” Chloe’s face twisted in rage. She grabbed my arm and raised her hand to slap me. Aria suddenly broke free from behind me and stood in front of me. “Don’t bully my mommy!” Chloe’s hand connected with Aria’s face. A sharp, cracking slap. Aria was knocked backward. Her little head slammed against the concrete steps of the flower shop. “Aria!”

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The notary’s voice was perfectly calm, as if he were reading from a completely ordinary document. My older sister received five million dollars. My younger brother received five million dollars. Then it was my turn. The notary paused for three seconds and looked up at me. “A photograph.” I froze. “What photograph?” He slid a manila envelope across the polished mahogany table. I opened it. Inside was a picture taken twenty years ago. In the photo, I was seventeen, standing in the backyard of our old house, smiling like an idiot. On the back, written in my father’s handwriting, was a single line— “To my middle girl: Good luck on your SATs.” My sister and brother exchanged a look. Nobody said a word. 1. I stared at that photograph for a very long time. Seventeen-year-old me, hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing my high school track jacket, standing under the old oak tree in our backyard. It was a month before the SATs. Dad had come home from his construction job out of state—a rare occurrence—and said he wanted to take a picture of me. “When you get into a good college, I’m going to blow this picture up and hang it right in the living room.” He was smiling so brightly that day. He had even put on a clean white button-down shirt specifically for the occasion. It was the only photograph he ever took of me in his entire life. And it was the last time he ever said “good luck” to me. “Hey,” my brother’s voice pulled me back to the present. “Are you okay?” I looked up at him. His expression was complicated. He looked like he wanted to comfort me, but had no idea what to say. “I’m fine.” I slid the photo back into the envelope and stood up. “The reading is done, right? I’m going to head out.” “Wait,” my sister called out. “You’re not going to say anything?” I turned around to look at her. My sister was wearing a beige cashmere coat and a pair of heels that looked incredibly expensive. She had moved back from Europe two years ago and bought a condo in downtown Seattle. Supposedly, her in-laws covered the down payment. “Say what?” “I mean…” She hesitated. “Dad splitting it up like this… don’t you think it’s…” “No. I don’t.” I picked up my purse. “It was Dad’s estate. He got to decide what to do with it. The legal work is done. There’s nothing left to say.” “But—” “Look,” I cut her off. “You take your five million, I’ll take my picture, and we all go back to our own lives. Sounds good to me.” My sister opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. My brother stood to the side, looking down at his shoes, lost in thought. I didn’t look at them again. I pushed the door open and walked out. It was drizzling outside, the damp cold biting straight into my bones. I stood under the awning of the law firm and lit a cigarette. I had quit three years ago. Today, I started again. Five million. Five million. A photograph. I let out a short laugh, though I didn’t even know what I was laughing at. Twenty years. From seventeen to thirty-seven, I had sacrificed exactly twenty years of my life for this family. And in the end, what my father gave me was a twenty-year-old picture. My phone rang. It was my mother. “Are you done with the lawyer?” “Yeah, it’s done.” “Where are your sister and brother?” “I don’t know. I left.” “Why didn’t you wait for them?” “Mom.” I took a deep drag of my cigarette. “I’m exhausted. I just want to go home and rest.” “Home? Which home are you going to?” I froze for a second. Right. Which home was I going to? The family house back in our hometown—Dad had written it out crystal clear in the will: it went to my brother. The apartment I rented in the city was five hundred square feet and cost me two thousand five hundred a month. I didn’t own a home. I am thirty-seven years old. Divorced for five years. No kids. My total life savings amount to less than twenty thousand dollars. And the starting point of all of this was that exact photograph. It was that summer when I was seventeen. I had scored in the top one percent of the state on my SATs. My dream was to go to the state’s flagship university and major in English Literature. My dad took one look at my acceptance letter and financial aid package, and said a single sentence— “What does a girl need to read so many books for? Your brother is going to college next year too. Where is this family going to find the money to put two kids through college?” That night, I hid under my covers and cried until dawn. The next morning, I ripped up my acceptance letter and walked down to the local textile factory to apply for a job on the assembly line. That year, I was seventeen. My brother was sixteen. From that day forward, I handed my paycheck directly to my mother. I kept fifty bucks a month for my own living expenses. The rest of it, I sent home. To pay for my brother’s SAT prep courses. To pay for my brother’s college tuition. To pay for his master’s degree. To pay for the down payment on his house. To pay for his wedding. I funded his life for fifteen straight years. “Hello? Are you still there?” My mom’s voice came through the speaker. “I’m here.” “Your sister said she wants to take everyone out to dinner tonight. Sort of a memorial dinner for your dad…” “I’m not going.” “What do you mean you’re not going?!” “Mom. I’m tired.” I hung up the phone. I stood in the rain and lit another cigarette. The photograph was still in my purse. I touched the manila envelope from the outside but didn’t take it out to look at it. Twenty years. I finally knew exactly how much I was worth in my father’s eyes. Not five million. Not fifty thousand. Not five thousand. I was worth a single photograph. A photograph he hadn’t looked at in twenty years. 2. I hailed a cab back to my apartment. The driver asked, “Where to?” I gave him the address. He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “You alright, miss? You look a little pale.” “I’m fine. Probably just caught a chill in the rain.” “You gotta take care of yourself in this weather.” I hummed in response, leaned back against the seat, and closed my eyes. My mind was a chaotic mess, flooded entirely with the past. I thought about the day my SAT scores came out. I scored a 1550. My high school guidance counselor called the house, practically screaming with excitement. “Maya! You have the highest score this town has seen in years! You’re a lock for the state university!” My parents were genuinely thrilled for a few days. During that week, a lot of relatives stopped by the house to congratulate us. My uncle said, “Mark, your daughter is going places! She’s gonna make something of herself!” My aunt said, “The flagship state university! She’s the only kid in our whole neighborhood to ever get in!” My mom couldn’t stop grinning, constantly offering everyone slices of watermelon and snacks. My dad just sat on the porch smoking his cigarettes, not saying much, but I could tell he was proud. Those were the happiest few days of my entire memory. And then, the acceptance letter arrived. I remember it vividly. It was mid-April. The mail carrier pulled up in his truck and yelled from the street: “Maya! Your thick envelope is here!” I ran out of the house and took that manila envelope from him, my hands literally shaking. I tore it open. Inside was the formal acceptance packet. “State University, Department of English Literature.” I stared at those words, tears welling up in my eyes. I did it. I really did it. Then my dad took the letter from my hands and looked at the financial aid breakdown. His expression shifted. “How much is the tuition?” I said, “Twelve thousand a year after the scholarships.” “Room and board?” “Eight thousand.” “Living expenses?” “…Probably another few hundred a month for food and books.” My dad didn’t say anything. He set the letter down on the kitchen table and lit a cigarette. That night, my parents stayed in their bedroom talking for a very long time. I pressed my ear against the crack in the door to listen. My mom said, “Let her go. The kid is smart, she’s definitely going to have a good career.” My dad said, “What good is a career? A daughter eventually belongs to another family anyway. Look at the Miller’s girl down the street—she graduated college and still just ended up getting married and staying home. Wasn’t all that tuition money just thrown in the trash?” My mom said, “But…” “Leo has his SATs next year,” my dad interrupted her. “If Maya goes to college, it’s gonna cost us twenty grand a year minimum. What about Leo? If he doesn’t get into a good college, his life is ruined. Maya is a girl. She can just find a husband even if she doesn’t get a degree.” My mom fell silent. Then she asked, “So… how are we going to tell her?” “I’ll tell her.” The next morning, my dad called me out to the backyard. He stood under the oak tree, a cigarette pinched between his fingers, looking out at the distant hills. “Maya.” “Yeah, Dad.” “Your brother has his SATs next year. We don’t have enough money. You…” He didn’t finish the sentence. I understood everything immediately. “Dad. You’re telling me I can’t go, aren’t you?” He didn’t answer. He just dropped his cigarette butt onto the dirt and crushed it with his boot. “You’re a girl. Reading all those books won’t do you any good. Finding a good family to marry into down the road is better than any degree.” I stood there, unable to force a single word out of my mouth. The tears fell, drop by drop, onto the grass. My dad glanced at me and frowned. “What are you crying for? I’m doing this for your own good.” For my own good. He actually said “for my own good.” That night, I put my acceptance letter in the deepest corner of my bottom drawer. I didn’t tear it up. I didn’t burn it. I just left it there. It has been twenty years. I have never opened that drawer again. The cab came to a halt. “We’re here, miss,” the driver said. I snapped out of my daze, paid the fare, and got out. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still an oppressive, heavy gray. I stood outside my apartment building and looked up at my window. Fifth floor. Facing north. Terrible natural light. I’ve lived here for five years. Five years ago, I moved from my hometown to this city. Why did I move? Because my dad got sick. A massive stroke. The doctors said he needed long-term, round-the-clock care. My sister was living in Europe. My brother had just bought a house. My mom was too old to handle the physical labor of caring for a paralyzed man. So, I came. I was thirty-two that year. I had worked at the textile factory in my hometown for fifteen years, finally clawing my way up to shift supervisor. I quit my job, sold the beat-up used Honda I had driven for eight years, moved to this expensive city, rented this cramped apartment, and dedicated my life to taking care of my father. And I took care of him. For five straight years. 3. I unlocked the door. The apartment still smelled exactly the same. Rubbing alcohol, the distinct scent of an elderly invalid, and a faint undertone of mildew. Five years. The smell had seeped into the drywall; it was never going to wash out. I sat down on the cheap futon and pulled the photograph out of my purse. Seventeen-year-old me, smiling so happily. I had no idea back then that three days after that picture was taken, my entire destiny would be derailed. I actually thought getting into college was going to be the beginning of my life. I flipped the photo over and looked at the handwriting on the back. “To my middle girl: Good luck on your SATs.” My dad’s handwriting was sloppy, the penmanship of a man who hadn’t spent much time in school. But I memorized those words for twenty years. Isn’t it hilarious? The man who shattered my dream of going to college was the same man who wrote “Good luck on your SATs” to me. I suddenly remembered exactly how this picture came to be. It was a month before the test. My dad rarely came home from his out-of-state contracting jobs. That day, he came home carrying a camera. It was one of those cheap point-and-shoots. Someone had given it to him; I didn’t even know if it was bought used. “Come here. Let your old man take a picture of you.” I stood under the oak tree, and he held the camera up. “Smile.” I smiled. He clicked the shutter. Then he said, “When you get into a good college, I’m going to blow this picture up and hang it right in the living room.” I nodded, my heart practically bursting with pride. But what happened after that? I didn’t go to college. No, I got in. But I didn’t get to go. The picture was never blown up. It was never hung in the living room. I didn’t even know where it had ended up. I assumed it was lost to time decades ago. Twenty years later, it reappeared in my father’s last will and testament. As the sole inheritance he left me. My phone buzzed. It was a text message. From my brother, Leo. “Maya, the way Dad split things up… I don’t think it’s fair either. How about this, I’ll give you half of my five million?” I stared at the text message, unmoving for a long time. Half. Two and a half million dollars. Enough to buy a nice house in this city. Enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I thought about it, then typed out a reply. “No need.” Send. A few seconds later, my phone started ringing. It was Leo. “Maya! Don’t do this out of spite, I’m being completely serious!” “I’m not doing it out of spite.” “Then why won’t you take it?” “Because it’s not your money to give.” Leo fell silent. “What do you mean?” “That five million was left to you by Dad. If Dad decided to split it that way, he obviously had his reasons. You keep it.” “But…” “Leo.” I cut him off. “Do you remember who paid your tuition when you went to college?” Dead silence on the other end of the line. “I paid it,” I said. “Three years of high school test prep, four years of undergrad, two years of your master’s program. Your tuition, your rent, your groceries, even the expensive LSAT prep courses you took. I paid for all of it.” “Maya, I know, I’ve always remembered—” “As long as you remember, that’s enough,” I said. “But I don’t need you to pay me back. I gave you that money willingly back then. Consider it a gift from your big sister.” “Maya…” “When you got married, do you remember how much the wedding and the down payment on your house cost?” Leo didn’t say anything. “A hundred thousand dollars,” I said. “I gave you twenty thousand out of pocket. The other eighty thousand came from Mom and Dad, and forty thousand of that was from the paychecks I had been sending home for years.” “Maya, I…” “And what about when I got married? How much did Mom and Dad give me?” Leo still didn’t speak. “Four hundred bucks,” I answered my own question. “In a red envelope. And they only gave it to me at the reception in front of the extended family so they wouldn’t lose face.” “Maya, things were really tight for the family back then—” “Tight for who?!” My voice rose involuntarily. “The year you bought your house, Mom and Dad magically produced eighty thousand dollars in cash. But the year I got married, things were so ‘tight’ they could only scrape together four hundred bucks?” “I didn’t mean it like that…” “Leo.” I took a deep breath. “I’m not bringing this up to demand money from you. I’m telling you this so you understand: I have already given enough to this family for one lifetime.” “Maya…” “You keep the five million. From now on, you and Chloe can figure out what to do with Mom. I wash my hands of it.” “What are you talking about?” “I’m tired.” I hung up the phone. I leaned back against the futon and stared at the water stains on the ceiling. I’m tired. I am so, incredibly tired. 4. I picked up the photograph again. Seventeen-year-old me, standing under the oak tree, smiling so radiantly. Back then, I truly believed that as long as I worked hard, I could change my destiny. Back then, I truly believed my parents wouldn’t let me go to college because we were genuinely poor. But what happened later? The year my brother got into college, my parents not only paid his tuition in full, but they also bought him a brand-new MacBook. That was in 2008. A MacBook cost almost two thousand dollars. I had been working at the textile factory for five years at that point, and my monthly salary was barely six hundred dollars. The year my brother graduated with his master’s, my parents paid the down payment on his house in the city. Eighty thousand dollars. Half of it was the money I had been sending home for years, combined with whatever my parents had saved. Even then, I still naively thought: Oh, the family’s financial situation has improved, Mom and Dad have more breathing room now, so they can help Leo. I never let myself think about how much of that money was built on my own blood, sweat, and tears. Now, I understand. From the very beginning, my dad never intended to let me go to college. It wasn’t because we didn’t have the money. It was because I was a daughter. “What does a girl need to read so many books for?” When he said those words, his eyes were perfectly calm. Like he was stating a universal law of nature. A daughter is meant to step aside for her brother. A daughter is meant to be sacrificed for her brother. A daughter is meant to marry someone and have kids. That was his philosophy. And it’s the philosophy of a lot of people. I looked down at the photo. “To my middle girl: Good luck on your SATs.” Heh. That was the absolute limit of my father’s expectations for me. Good luck. And then what? Then he told me I wasn’t allowed to go. I tossed the photo onto the coffee table, stood up, and went to the tiny kitchenette to pour a glass of tap water. It was pitch black outside, and the rain had started up again. I thought back to five years ago. That day, my brother called me in a panic, saying Dad was in the hospital after a massive stroke. “Maya, the doctors say it’s really bad. Can you come home?” I took a red-eye Greyhound bus back that same night. When I got to the hospital, my dad was lying in the ICU, the entire right side of his body paralyzed. My mom sat next to the bed, her eyes swollen from crying. Where was my sister? In Europe. She made a five-minute phone call saying she “absolutely couldn’t get time off work” and told my mom to “take care of herself.” Where was my brother? Pacing the hallway outside the room, aggressively whispering into his phone. I walked closer and caught snippets of his conversation: “The mortgage is due next month… with Dad being sick like this, I literally do not have the cash flow right now…” That night, the attending physician called us into his office. “The patient’s prognosis isn’t great. He’s going to require long-term, intensive rehabilitation and 24/7 care. Your family needs to discuss who will be assuming the role of primary caregiver.” I looked at my mom. She was in her late sixties and her own health was failing. I looked at my brother. He had just gotten married, and his wife was pregnant with their first child. My sister was in Europe, so she wasn’t even an option. “I’ll do it.” When I said those words, I didn’t hesitate. Because I knew there was no one else. Growing up, whenever anything went wrong in this family, I was always the safety net. “Maya, what about your job at the factory?” my brother asked. “I’ll quit.” “But—” “There’s no ‘buts,’” I said. “You focus on your new family. Mom is too old, and Chloe can’t come back. I’ll take care of Dad.” Leo opened his mouth but didn’t say anything to stop me. My mom grabbed my hands and cried. “Maya, I’m so sorry to put this burden on you…” “Mom, I’m his daughter. Isn’t taking care of him my duty?” When I said that, I actually believed it. Looking back now, it’s hilarious. Taking care of him was my “duty,” but when it came to his estate, what exactly was my share? Five years. Over one thousand eight hundred days. I rolled him over in bed to prevent bedsores. I sponge-bathed him. I spoon-fed him. I did his physical therapy exercises with him. I dragged him to the hospital for check-ups, for physical therapy, for prescription refills, for emergency admissions. I woke up every two to three hours every single night to make sure he hadn’t kicked his blankets off, or accidentally pulled out his catheter. I didn’t sleep through the night once in five years. I didn’t take a single vacation or travel anywhere. I didn’t make a single friend in this city. I quit my job at thirty-two. Now, at thirty-seven, I found out I was completely unemployable. —Who wants to hire a thirty-seven-year-old woman with no college degree and a massive five-year gap on her resume? And the origin point of all of this was that photograph. It was that summer when I was seventeen. It was my dad asking, “What does a girl need to read so many books for?” And now? My dad is dead. His estate was liquidated for ten million dollars. My sister got five million. My brother got five million. And me? A twenty-year-old picture. I stood by the window holding my glass of water, watching the rain hit the glass. I finally understood. That photograph was proof of the very last time my father ever truly “saw” me. Twenty years ago, he still remembered to take a picture of me and tell me “good luck.” For the next twenty years, the only people he saw were my sister and my brother. What he gave me wasn’t an inheritance. It was a reminder. A reminder that said: You were never important. ***

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My husband was working out of state and had to stay in the office over the holidays. I decided to buy a plane ticket and surprise him. But the only seats left were in first class. Looking at the four-figure price tag, I gritted my teeth and spent a year’s worth of my savings. When I boarded, I didn’t even know how to pull out the tray table. The wealthy woman sitting next to me sneered. “Never flown first class before?” I forced a polite smile. “I’m sorry. You must be an executive, right? You carry yourself with such elegance.” “No,” she said. “My sugar daddy is a CEO. Whenever I travel, if it’s not first class, he charters a private jet for me.” I was stunned. “A sugar daddy? That must be hard to find.” “Not really. I work for him. I make mistakes all the time and cost him a ton of money. Every time he scolds me, I cry… and, well, you know how it goes.” “What a coincidence. My husband also has a female coworker who’s always making mistakes.” “You’re married?” She looked me up and down. “My sugar daddy has a wife about your age, too. “But he says he got sick of her a long time ago. Said touching her feels like nothing, not even as exciting as when I toss my hair. “I told him I wanted to see him for the holidays, and look—he just told his old wife he had to work overtime.” I stared at the diamond ring on her finger. It was identical to my lost wedding ring. I froze. Wait—wasn’t Arthur Vance just a junior employee? When did he become a CEO? … I stared at her ring finger. “But your ring… that’s a wedding band, isn’t it? Did you and your sugar daddy get married?” “Oh, this?” Chloe Sterling admired the diamond ring. “I made him take it from his wife.” I sat there, stunned. “I wasn’t planning on making things difficult for the wife. But who told her to suddenly have a miscarriage on my birthday, making him go to the hospital to take care of her? “I had to spend my birthday all by myself.” My hand instinctively moved to my lower stomach. I suddenly recalled that freezing winter. The path home from the grocery store was covered in thick ice. Arthur’s salary was meager. Even a bicycle was a luxury for us. I slipped and fell hard. My three-month-old baby turned into a pool of blood… That day, Arthur dropped all his work and stayed by my side for three days and three nights. But when I woke up, my ring had vanished along with my child. Arthur held me tight. “It’s okay. We’ll have another baby. And the ring… I’ll have a new one made for you.” I shook my head, crying. “Didn’t you say your company is doing layoffs? We need to save money. When you make it big one day, then you can buy me a new one.” His eyes were red, tears welling up as he looked at me. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault I haven’t made enough money. It’s my fault I haven’t given you a good life.” I had just shaken my head. Beside me, Chloe was still admiring the diamond ring. I asked, “So, you made him take his wife’s ring and give it to you?” “Yeah. Actually, he refused at first. He said he’d buy me a more expensive one.” Chloe tilted her hand side to side, watching the diamond catch the light. “But the only reason that old woman is so arrogant is because she’s his wife, right? “If I didn’t punish her a little, she’d end up walking all over me.” I gritted my teeth. “To be honest, compared to the other things he’s bought me, this ring is cheap. “But at the end of the day, it’s still a wedding ring.” Chloe smiled at me. “If a woman ends up like that old hag, her life is basically hopeless.” I clenched the hem of my shirt and forced a smile. “If your sugar daddy is so willing to spend money on you, he must spend a lot to keep his wife quiet, right?” Chloe laughed. She leaned in close and whispered. “Let me tell you a secret. That old woman doesn’t even know he’s a CEO yet.” “Why?” Chloe admired her diamond-encrusted manicure. “Because there’s no point. She already wasted her youth helping him build his career. “If you were a man who finally got rich, and you saw your wife was old and fading, would you still spend money on her? It’s not like spending money is going to bring her youth back.” My slightly haggard face reflected in the window. Chloe leaned toward me. “Hey, even though you’re older than me, you still have some looks left. Since we’re sitting next to each other, let me give you some advice. “Women need to get Botox and beauty treatments. Your skin is looking a bit dry. I bet your husband doesn’t show much interest in you, does he?” I stared at her, not saying a word. Her skin was flawless, glowing with youth. I used to look exactly like her. Actually… I was prettier than her. Ten years of weathering the storms in cheap, drafty apartments had taken their toll. When I looked at my old photos now, I barely recognized myself. “Those treatments… they’re very expensive.” “So what?” Chloe shrugged. “My sugar daddy gives me fifty thousand dollars a month for living expenses, and he reimburses me for all my beauty treatments on top of that.” Looking at the tiny rhinestones decorating Chloe’s sharp eyeliner. My hands, gripping my shirt, began to tremble. “How many years… have you been his canary?” “Since June 12th, 2023. Why?” My hands shook even harder. June 12th, 2023. The day my mother died. That day, my mother needed fifty thousand dollars for surgery. I remember it vividly. Arthur begged everyone he knew and emptied his own savings account. He managed to scrape together thirty-five thousand for me. It was almost everything he had saved since he started working. Despite working myself to the bone, I only managed to borrow another eight thousand. My mother passed away. That day, he held me tight, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry. I’m a piece of trash. I couldn’t even earn enough for your mom’s medical bills! You’ve suffered so much being with me…” My heart felt like it was being sliced open. But I still wiped away his tears. “I’m so grateful you managed to get thirty-five thousand. “Mom said you did your best. She didn’t blame you, and I don’t either… It’s my fault I couldn’t get the remaining fifteen thousand…” His tears fell onto the back of my hand. He gripped my hand tightly. “Maya, just wait a little longer. Please, just wait… I promise I won’t let us live like this anymore…” I nodded through my tears. Fifty thousand dollars… He had the money all along. “You know what’s crazy? That woman’s mother needed exactly fifty thousand dollars for a surgery that same month.” I looked at Chloe. She winked her left eye at me. “He was actually going to give it to her.” My breath caught in my throat. “Did he give it to you for living expenses instead?” “No. He’s rich. He gave me fifty grand, but he still had plenty more.” “Then why didn’t he give it to his wife’s mother?” “Because…” Chloe rested her chin on her hand. “I told him that once her mother died, that woman wouldn’t have any family left. Then, even if she found out he was keeping me on the side, she wouldn’t dare say a word.” I gritted my teeth so hard they felt like they would shatter. “Plus, I had my eye on a new Chanel bag that month. It was exactly fifty thousand.” I stared at her, my eyes burning. “Aren’t you afraid his wife will find out what you did?” “Please. I’m a genius.” Chloe laughed. “I gave him the idea. I told him to give her thirty-five thousand and pretend it was his entire life savings. His wife would just think her husband did his absolute best, and she’d never suspect he was hiding someone else!” Saying this, her expression soured a bit. “The annoying part is, the reason he finally agreed to do it was to make sure the old woman wouldn’t leave him if I ever got discovered. “Ugh, that old hag has such good luck.” Smack! A slap landed squarely on Chloe’s face without warning. “Are you insane?!” Chloe’s drink spilled everywhere. A flight attendant rushed over to help her clean up. Chloe was furious. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” “Are all mistresses this arrogant these days?!” I was shaking with rage. The flight attendant quickly separated us. She moved Chloe to an empty seat further away and spoke to her in a soothing voice. Finally, Chloe calmed down slightly. Wiping her hands with the towel the flight attendant gave her, she shot me a disdainful glare. “I am so sick of self-righteous people like you. Always screaming ‘mistress, mistress.’ Let’s be honest… “Hah. You’re just mad because you’re old and can’t attract a man anymore, right? “If you were young again, you’d be throwing yourself at rich men faster than anyone else!” “You—!” The flight attendant quickly grabbed my arm as I started to lunge. I didn’t want to cause trouble for the crew, so I gritted my teeth and sat back down. Chloe looked me up and down with utter contempt. “Let me tell you the truth. You haven’t been young for a long time. I bet your husband is seeing someone else, too. “If you don’t believe me, go check his phone. A woman who looks like you… no man would want to come home to that.” Splash! I threw the fresh drink the flight attendant had just brought me right into her face. Chloe shrieked. The flight attendants scrambled to get between us. The purser forced a polite smile. “Ms. Hayes, this woman is a very important guest. Please calm down. How about I bring you some fresh fruit to help you relax?” “Important guest?” I ground my teeth. The purser leaned in and whispered softly. “She is with Mr. Vance, the CEO of Vance Enterprises. It’s for your own good to avoid her. Mr. Vance is very protective of her.” I let out a bitter laugh. The plane landed at the layover airport. Neither Chloe nor I were disembarking. We were allowed to take our phones off airplane mode. I sent Arthur a text: [Where are you?] He sent back a photo of his office cubicle: [Making money for my wife.] [Are you making it for me, or for someone else?] No reply. I sent a question mark. A second later, a familiar voice drifted over from Chloe’s seat. “Someone threw juice on you? Who dares treat my Chloe like that?” “Some crazy old woman! Ugh, it’s all your fault! If you were here, she never would have dared to do that to me!” “Okay, okay… it’s my fault.” [Transfer Received: $50,000] A robotic notification chimed from Chloe’s phone. Arthur’s voice was gentle: “Go buy yourself something pretty.” I gripped the hem of my shirt. The smile on Chloe’s face was fleeting. She immediately pouted. “Hmph! Not good enough. You told me you missed me and wanted to spend New Year’s with me! If you hadn’t said that, I wouldn’t have gotten on this plane and met that lunatic! “No amount of money can fix this! Hmph!” Arthur wasn’t angry. Instead, he sounded amused, his tone lightening up. “Then, what about the new villa your husband bought for you?” Chloe’s eyes widened slightly. “Is my Chloe smiling now? Are you happy?” “I am not!” Chloe pouted again. “But… hmph, I’ll give you a chance. Only because I love you.” “Good~ I’ll make it up to you tonight, okay?” “Three hours, not a second less!” “I’ll give you the whole night.” My hand, hidden inside my sleeve, trembled violently. I remembered when he was transferred to the East Coast branch. Whenever we saw each other, we rarely went past hugging and kissing. Every time I initiated anything more, he would sigh. “I’ve been working so hard, I’m just exhausted. Can we wait until I’ve rested up?” But before he was ever “rested up,” he was already gone again. The plane was preparing for takeoff. Chloe kissed the camera and ended the video call. At that exact moment, Arthur sent me a text: [Why doesn’t my wife believe me anymore? Are you sad that I have to work overtime and can’t be with you for New Year’s? [When I get home after the holidays, I’ll take you to that hot pot place you love, okay?] The plane took off. A flight attendant walked up to Chloe’s new seat carrying a black, gold-stamped gift box. “Ms. Sterling, a gentleman asked us to bring this to you.” “Oh my god! The Prada necklace! How did he know I’ve been eyeing this?!” The flight attendant smiled and handed her a card. “Mr. Vance also asked us to pass along a message: “He hopes Ms. Sterling won’t let the background noise bother her. Be brave, be yourself, and ignore all obstacles. “Because Mr. Vance will always stand behind you, and he will always love you.” I looked down at the text Arthur had just sent me, and closed my eyes. “Ms. Hayes, Mr. Vance asked us to give this diamond to you.” The purser handed me a loose diamond. I frowned. “For me?”

On the third day of my mission to capture Tristan’s heart, he confessed his feelings to me. But the affection meter floating above his head clearly read a solid 0! After we made it official, he spoiled me rotten. On our sixth anniversary, he proposed in a spectacular, high-profile way. As I was nodding with tears in my eyes, a barrage of live comments suddenly floated across my vision: [The Second Male Lead must be so exhausted acting. To protect the Female Lead, he endured his disgust and played along with the Vicious Supporting Female for 6 whole years!] [This substitute really bought into her role, LMAO!] My blood instantly froze. No wonder that number hadn’t changed in six years. At the same time, the system’s cold, mechanical voice exploded in my mind: “Final phase initiated. Capture countdown: Ten days.” “Upon failure, you will be completely obliterated.” Smiling, I pulled back the hand he was about to put the ring on and wiped my tears. “Sorry, but I’m tired of playing this dating game.” 1. The holographic comments were still scrolling past my eyes: [Whoa, did the supporting girl’s expression just change?] [She should’ve woken up a long time ago. The Second Male Lead only has the Female Lead in his heart.] [Sitting here waiting for her to go crazy and turn evil—] Turn evil? No. I just suddenly remembered a lot of details. He never allowed me to meet anyone alone, claiming he was “worried about bad influences.” He always gently interrupted whenever I brought up my career: “I make enough to take care of you.” It turned out that wasn’t him spoiling me. It was a cage. I returned to our shared mansion in a daze, mechanically throwing my things into a suitcase. As I passed the study, the comments suddenly surged: [Look at the computer! Tristan didn’t log out of his messages!] [Oh no, if she sees his chat history, it’s over…] [Danger! Initiate Female Lead Protection Protocol!] A crisp notification chime echoed from the study. I pushed the door open and walked in. The monitor was glowing, displaying a chat window between Tristan and the Male Lead, Carter. The latest message was sent by Tristan: “She suddenly rejected the proposal. Protect Chloe these next few days. Don’t let Harper anywhere near her.” Carter replied quickly: “Don’t worry. Thanks for your hard work all these years.” I laughed out loud. How absurd. Because of me, two men who used to be bitter rivals had formed a united front. I scrolled up. The chat history sliced through my skin like a dull knife. Carter: “I remember in the original plot, Harper not only ruined Chloe’s face but also hired guys to assault her. It must be so hard for you to share a bed with that venomous woman every day.” Tristan: “As long as Chloe is safe, none of this matters.” Carter: “She seems to be falling deeper in love with you. If she finds out the truth, will she go even crazier?” Tristan: “She won’t find out.” “And if she does, and dares to touch a hair on Chloe’s head—” “I’ll break her arms and legs, throw her in a psych ward, and lock her up for the rest of her life.” He even added an exclamation mark to that last sentence. I stared at the screen, my fingertips turning to ice. The comments were boiling over: [“None of this matters”… The Second Male Lead loves her so much! I won’t say who!] [Am I the only one who thinks this conversation is terrifying? Setting someone up for six years just to protect the Female Lead?] [To the person above: She’s a vicious extra! He’s doing society a favor while protecting his true love. It’s a win-win!] [Look at the supporting girl’s face… is she about to snap?] [Stop causing trouble and just run away!] Run? I looked down at my slender wrists. Yeah. I needed to run. It was pitch black by the time I dragged my suitcase out the front door. I stood on the sidewalk, momentarily unsure of where to go. The comments were getting anxious on my behalf: [Is she really leaving?] [Hurry up and go! Don’t ruin the sweet moments between the Second Male Lead and the Female Lead!] [Wait… is that car in the distance Tristan’s?!] Headlights pierced the darkness, and a familiar black sedan slammed on its brakes right next to me. Tristan got out and ran over. His dress shirt was slightly wrinkled, his breathing heavy, and his face wore a perfectly crafted mask of panic and heartbreak. “Harper, I’m sorry. I rushed it… I thought you’d be happy.” He reached out to grab my hand, his eyes turning red. “Don’t leave. Let’s sit down and talk, okay?” If this were the past, my heart would have melted into a puddle. But now, all I could think of was the phrase break her arms and legs and lock her up. I took a half-step back, dodging his touch. “I don’t blame you,” I heard my own voice say, light and airy. “I’m just bored of this.” “Bored…?” His eyelashes fluttered, acting as if he couldn’t comprehend the word. “You don’t love me anymore?” Under the streetlights, his features were tinged with a shattered vulnerability. His acting was so flawless he deserved an Oscar. A single comment drifted by: [Honestly, his kindness to her these past six years couldn’t have been entirely fake… this is kind of heartbreaking.] That sentence suddenly woke me up. I raised my head and looked deeply into his eyes. “Tristan.” “In these six years, was there even a single second… where you genuinely felt happy?” His pupils shrank infinitesimally. He didn’t answer. But the comments exploded: [!!! Did she find out?!] [Holy shit, high alert—] [Tristan, don’t just stand there! Make up a lie!!] The wind was freezing. I grabbed my suitcase, turned around, and vanished into the night. No footsteps chased after me. Only the clear, rhythmic ticking of the countdown echoed in my mind: 9 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes. —The game wasn’t over yet. But the player was done following the rules. 2. I hailed a cab and leaned against the cold window, my hands trembling uncontrollably. Not out of fear. Out of excitement. So this was what it felt like to strip away a six-year facade. It felt like I could finally take a deep breath. The countdown flashed coldly in my peripheral vision: 9 days, 23 hours, 10 minutes. I had less than ten days to live. All because of a man who would never love me. How ridiculous. “Where to, miss?” the driver asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. I gave him an address. It was a riverside café I used to love. Tristan had once told me it was “too loud and chaotic.” He never let me go back after that. The comments drifted across my vision: [Where is she going? Why isn’t she running away?] [Tristan’s last look was terrifying…] [Is it just me, or does she look absolutely stunning in that red dress?] Outside the window, the neon lights of the city blurred past. For the past six years, I had lived inside a glass dome. Everything I saw was a sanitized version of the world, filtered by Tristan. Now, the glass was shattered. The wind poured in, bringing with it the smell of street food, the damp river breeze, and the laughter of strangers. It felt so real it made me want to cry. The café was exactly where it used to be. The bell above the door chimed as I pushed it open. The owner, Dave, a man with a graying beard, paused when he saw me. “Harper?” “Dave. Long time no see.” “It really is you!” He wiped his hands on his apron and stepped out from behind the counter. “It’s been what, five or six years? You used to love that window seat. You’d order a latte and write screenplays all afternoon…” Only then did I remember. Before I met Tristan, I used to come here to write my thesis. I was a film student back then, dreaming of winning an Academy Award, scribbling margin notes all over my scripts. And then what happened? Then Tristan said, “Acting is too exhausting. Let me take care of you.” He said, “Hollywood is too toxic. It doesn’t suit you.” He said, “Harper, having me is enough.” And like an idiot, I believed him. I skipped my auditions, turned down contracts, locked my dreams in a drawer, and handed him the key. “The usual?” Dave asked. “Yeah,” I paused. “And add a slice of tiramisu.” I never dared to eat it before. Tristan used to tell me I “gained weight easily and wouldn’t look good on camera.” But I only had ten days left. What did it matter if I gained weight? The window seat was empty. I sat down. The river breeze brushed my face, and the city lights on the opposite bank reflected in the dark water, shattering into ripples of liquid gold. As I took the first bite of cake, the sweet cream and the bitter coffee-soaked ladyfingers melted on my tongue. I closed my eyes. It was so delicious. So this was what it felt like to be alive. The comments went quiet for a moment before slowly resuming: [She’s eating so earnestly…] [Why do I feel inexplicably sad?] [If I only had ten days left to live, I’d want a good meal too.] [But seriously, is Tristan really going to let her be this free? I doubt it.] I doubted it too. So when my phone buzzed with Tristan’s name on the caller ID, I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. I answered but didn’t speak. “Harper, where are you?” “I’m worried about you,” his voice carried a trace of exhaustion. “I’m eating.” “Come home, Harper,” he softened his tone. “We both need to calm down. I promise I won’t bother you tonight. You can sleep in the guest room. We’ll talk things out tomorrow, okay?” Such a familiar cadence. For six years, every time I threw a tantrum, he acted exactly like this. Gently, patiently coaxing me back into the cage, step by step. And then everything would return to the status quo. “Tristan,” I said, staring out at the river. “Do you remember my senior thesis film?” He went silent for a moment. “Why bring that up now?” “I played a captive woman who, in the end, burned the house down with herself inside it.” I scooped up another bite of cake. “You told me the acting was too extreme. You said no one in real life would be that stupid.” “But I understand it now.” “She wasn’t stupid. It was just that the fire was the only thing she had left.” The breathing on the other end of the line grew heavier. “What exactly are you trying to say?” “I’m trying to say,” I swallowed the last bite of cake, “for the next ten days, I’m going to live my own life.” “Don’t look for me. Don’t bother me. Don’t threaten me using my family.” “After ten days, if I’m still alive…” I let out a soft laugh. “Then we can go back to playing your game.” 3. I checked into the most expensive presidential suite in the city, swiping the supplementary black card Tristan had given me. The comments were still flowing: [A presidential suite??? She really knows how to enjoy herself.] [Using the Second Male Lead’s money to stay in a luxury hotel. Legend.] [She only has ten days left. Let her splurge!] I dropped my suitcase in the foyer and sank into a bathtub covered in rose petals. The countdown ticked in my mind: 8 days, 14 hours, 32 minutes. I had eight and a half days left. My phone was eerily quiet. Tristan hadn’t called back. That was very unlike him. Deep into the night, I was lying on the massive California King bed. The comments were sparse: [Is she really sleeping? She’s got nerves of steel.] [What is the Second Male Lead doing? I think he’s tracking her phone’s GPS.] [Honestly, this feeling of being constantly monitored is suffocating.] Just as I was drifting off, a violent crash echoed from the front of the suite. I jolted upright. The comments instantly exploded: [WTF WAS THAT SOUND?!] [Someone’s kicking the door down!!!] [Is it Tristan???] [Help, I’m so tense!] Before I could react, the bedroom door was violently kicked open. Tristan stood in the doorway. His eyes were completely bloodshot, looking like a man pushed to the absolute edge of fury. “Harper.” His voice was hoarse as he walked toward me, step by heavy step. I instinctively grabbed the collar of my bathrobe. He stopped in front of me, his shadow entirely engulfing me. “Where is Chloe?” I froze. “What?” “Stop acting.” He suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight my bones ached. “Where did you kidnap Chloe? Tell me!” “I don’t know what you’re talking about—” I tried to pull away, but he squeezed harder. The comments were scrolling at lightspeed: [What’s going on? The Female Lead got kidnapped?] [By the supporting girl? Impossible, she’s been at the hotel the whole time!] [The timeline doesn’t match up. She didn’t have time to hire kidnappers!] [Tristan has lost his damn mind!] “Tristan, let me go!” I gasped in pain. “I haven’t even seen Chloe! I’ve been here the whole—” “Harper, I underestimated you.” “You put on such a great show of being heartbroken, only to turn around and kidnap Chloe? You really are a venomous bitch.” “I didn’t do it,” I said through gritted teeth. He violently shoved me back onto the mattress, leaning over and pinning me by placing his hands on either side of my head. “I’m giving you one last chance. Where is Chloe? What did you do to her?” His breath hit my face, carrying an almost psychotic hostility. In six years, I had never seen this side of him. The comments began to split: [Tristan is terrifying…] [But if the supporting girl really kidnapped the FL, she deserves it, right?] [Read the room! She didn’t have time to commit the crime!] [Could this be a setup?] “I told you, I don’t know.” “Tristan, look at me. Have I ever lied to you in the past six years?” His pupils contracted. He wavered for a split second. “The location where Chloe’s phone signal disappeared,” he looked down at me, his gaze like a poisoned blade, “was the exact same café you went to.” My blood ran cold. A trap. Someone had set a trap. “It wasn’t me, I didn’t…” My voice started to tremble. “Enough!” He abruptly stood up and pulled a switchblade from his pocket. Grabbing my hand, he pressed the cold steel edge directly against my wrist. “Harper.” His voice was horrifyingly low. “I know you hate Chloe. I know you hate her for stealing me away—even though I never belonged to you to begin with. But you don’t get to touch her.” “I’m going to ask you one last time! Where is Chloe?” The blade bit into the flesh of my wrist. Bright red blood instantly welled up. Agony shot through my veins like an electric current. My vision went dark, and I nearly passed out. The comments were going insane: [He’s lost it! He’s completely lost it!] [I’m starting to feel bad for the supporting girl… she legitimately looks clueless.] [Harper, say something! Even if you have to lie!] I opened my mouth, a broken, breathy sound escaping my throat: “I… didn’t…” 4. Crimson blood stained the pristine white sheets. Tristan’s hand was like an iron vice, locking my wrist in place. The blade remained buried in my flesh. Every heartbeat brought a fresh wave of tearing agony. “One last time,” his voice sounded like it was coming from miles away. “Where is Chloe?” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My vision began to blur. All I could see was his clenched jaw and the manic, bloodthirsty redness in his eyes. The comments flooded in like a tidal wave: [She’s fading fast…] [Tristan, let go! She’s actually going to die!] [Can someone call 911?! This is literally attempted murder!] [Where the hell is the system?! Are they just going to ignore this level of violence?!] The system remained dead silent. Right. In a capture-target game, the life of the supporting female character was never a priority. I was just an NPC. A stumbling block on the protagonists’ path to true love. A malicious background prop meant to highlight the Female Lead’s kindness. But I could feel pain. Real, agonizing pain. “Still won’t talk?” Tristan pressed the blade down another fraction of an inch. I heard the faint sound of skin tearing, followed by a warmer, heavier flow of blood. Black spots danced in my vision, like static on an old television set. Just as I thought I was actually going to die right then and there— Tristan’s phone rang. The moment he saw the caller ID, his pupils dilated. He answered it almost instantly: “Chloe?” From the other end came a woman’s intermittent sobbing: “Tristan… I-I escaped…” “They took me to an abandoned warehouse on the west side… they all ran away…” “…I’m so scared…” “Don’t be scared! I’m on my way!” Tristan’s tone shifted instantly. The ruthless cruelty vanished, replaced by a trembling, desperate tenderness I had never heard before. “Are you hurt? Find somewhere safe to hide.” He forgot to even hang up the phone. He dropped my wrist and sprinted out of the suite. The blade was yanked out of my flesh, sending another spike of blinding pain through my arm. I collapsed back onto the mattress, watching his silhouette disappear through the door. The comments went dead silent for a second before exploding: [He just left her?!] [Her wrist is still bleeding!] [He could have at least called an ambulance?!] [This is his idea of love? Being willing to casually slaughter someone else for the FL?] [How did I ever think he was devoted and romantic…] I struggled to lift my uninjured hand, reaching for my phone on the nightstand. My fingertips were shaking. It was only inches away, but it felt like miles. More and more blood poured from my wrist. The sheets were soaked, the deep crimson spreading endlessly across the white fabric. I gritted my teeth and threw my entire body weight forward by a single inch— My fingers finally brushed the edge of the phone. The comments turned into a cheering squad: [Come on! You got it!] [Dial 911! Hurry!] [Don’t fall asleep! Hang in there!] I unlocked the screen, but my vision was too blurry to make out the numbers. Relying entirely on muscle memory, I tapped 9-1-1 and hit dial. The dial tone rang through the speaker. Once. Twice. My breathing grew shallower, the black spots in my vision multiplying. Click. The call connected. “911, what is your emergency?” I opened my mouth to speak, but only a faint gasp escaped. “Hello? Can you hear me? Do you need police, fire, or medical?” I wanted to say: I’m at a hotel. I’m bleeding out. I’m dying. But it felt like something was blocking my throat. I couldn’t make a sound. “Hello? Is anyone there?” The voice from the speaker grew distant. The phone slipped from my fingers, hitting the plush carpet with a dull thud. The comments were frantic: [NO!!!] [Somebody save her!!!] [Where is the hotel staff?! How did no one hear a door getting kicked down?!] [Tristan, you absolute piece of shit!!!] My consciousness began to scatter. In a daze, I felt like I was floating. I looked down and saw myself curled up in a pool of blood, my face as pale as a sheet of paper. And then I saw the comments updating. [Tristan found Chloe.] [Chloe threw herself into his arms and cried.] [He’s comforting her, telling her ‘it’s going to be okay.’] [Chloe kissed him.] […They’re making out.] [While Harper is literally lying here bleeding to death.] The comments paused for a few seconds. Then the tone drastically shifted: [I suddenly feel… incredibly sick.] [What did the supporting girl even do wrong? She just fell in love with the wrong guy.] [She genuinely dedicated six years of her life to him.] [What gives Tristan the right to treat her like this?] [If she dies, he’s a literal murderer.] [I want to see him regret this.] [I want to see him drop to his knees and beg for her forgiveness.] [But she might not live to see it.] [Can someone please go to the hotel and save her? I can’t watch this anymore.] The countdown was still glowing, flickering weakly in my mind: 8 days, 9 hours, 01 minutes. The game wasn’t over. But it looked like the player was logging off early.

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My brother was widely recognized as a great hero. In an operation to protect a hostage, he was stabbed multiple times by a criminal. At his memorial service, people poured in from all over the city to pay their respects. The hall was filled with the sound of weeping. My mom fainted from the grief and had to be carried away by paramedics for emergency care. I was his favorite younger sister. But right now, staring fixedly at his black-and-white memorial photo, I suddenly let out a laugh. Because my brother was currently sitting right in front of the altar with his legs spread wide, cursing up a storm: “How could you guys use my raw, unedited photo?! Chloe, you need to change it! Right! Now!” 1 The host was reading the solemn eulogy, detailing his heroic deeds in life. “Carter Miller. When faced with a deranged attacker, he voluntarily stepped forward and offered to trade himself for the hostage. Unexpectedly, the attacker was triggered by a bystander’s shout and lunged straight for the young child’s left thigh. In that critical moment, Carter was the first to dive forward, shielding the child in his arms. He took five stab wounds, every single one fatal…” The entire hall was solemn. A sea of people dressed in black packed the room. The sound of crying came in waves, one after another. My mom hadn’t been able to take it and had fainted. I was now the only family member left standing in the receiving line. Everyone looked at me with eyes full of sympathy, pity, and regret. “He sacrificed his life at the young age of twenty-seven,” the host concluded. I gave a side-eye to Carter himself. He was hovering off to the side, legs crossed, pointing an accusing finger at his memorial portrait. “Chloe! Are you trying to piss me off to death?! Oh wait, I’m already dead!” “I told you a million times, if I ever die, you MUST use my Facetuned photo!” “I used half a can of hair gel before I left the house that day! I maintained my image until the very end of my life, and you guys picked an unedited, raw photo for my funeral?!” He was spitting invisible saliva everywhere as he ranted. Only I could see him. I tried to hold it in, but I failed. My mouth twitched, and a short, abrupt laugh escaped my lips. “Pfft.” In a mourning hall filled with wailing, the sound was incredibly jarring. Everyone snapped their heads up in shock, staring at me in disbelief. Her biological brother is dead, and the sister is laughing at his funeral? It was an absurd scene. “Cough… cough…” I immediately pretended to have a violent coughing fit. Standing next to me was my brother’s best friend and colleague, Liam Hayes. His eyes were bloodshot, and he turned to look at me too. I quickly lowered my head and pinched my own thigh as hard as I could. It hurt so much that tears instantly sprang to my eyes. “Cough… cough, cough, cough!” I kept up the coughing act. “I… I’m just so heartbroken… I choked on my own breath…” A deeper look of heartache flashed through Liam’s eyes. Carter floated right up to my face. That semi-transparent visage was full of indignation, and he started whining to me like a brat. “Hey, my dear sister, I’m the main character today! Can’t you grant me this one tiny request? Besides, look down there—my high school crush is sitting in the third row!” I didn’t dare look up at him. I kept my head bowed, my shoulders trembling. Everyone thought I was sobbing uncontrollably. In reality, I was fighting for my life trying not to laugh. A hand rested gently on my shoulder. It was Liam. His voice was thick with emotion. “Chloe, if you need to cry, just let it out. Don’t hold it in…” 2 “Liam, you sneaky bastard, get your filthy paws off my sister’s shoulder!” “My body isn’t even cold yet, and you’re trying to make a move on my sister?!” “And what was that? Were you trying to give her a comforting head pat? I’m telling you, no way in hell!” While Carter threw a fit at Liam, he turned his head and yelled at me. “Chloe! You’re heartless too!” “I left you hundreds of thousands of dollars in the hero’s compensation fund, and you’re laughing at my funeral?!” I took a deep breath, looked up at Liam, and tried to look as devastated as possible. “Liam, I’m fine.” “But could you… do me a favor?” Liam immediately stood up straight. “Name it. I’d walk through fire for you.” I pointed at the memorial photo. “Can we change it?” Liam froze, needing a moment to process. “Change it? To what?” I gritted my teeth. “Change it to the one from his vacation in Miami. The one on the beach with the sunglasses.” Liam’s expression cycled through shock and grief a few hundred times in a single second. “The one where he’s wearing the hideous floral shirt, board shorts, and giving the camera the middle finger?!” He probably thought I had lost my mind. “Chloe… this picture we’re using is the most… dignified one your brother had.” “This is a formal memorial service. The mayor is here. The police chief is here…” “Screw dignified!” Carter was jumping up and down in frantic anger. “I don’t want dignified! I want to look hot!” I stared directly into Liam’s eyes, my tone dead serious. “I don’t care. It needs to be changed right now. My brother told me this is his one and only dying wish.” Liam reached out and touched my forehead with the back of his hand, then touched his own. “No fever. Have you actually lost your mind?” “My brother also said that if you don’t help him change it, he’ll visit everyone in your office in their dreams tonight. He’s going to tell them how you steal a roll of toilet paper from the company bathroom every day before you go home, and how you used the company’s color printer to print four massive SAT prep books for your nephew!” Liam stared at me with wide eyes, looking like he had literally just seen a ghost. “How… how do you know about that?” “Only your brother and I knew about that!” I kept a perfectly straight face. “Exactly. Because my brother just told me.” 3 The photo didn’t get changed in the end. After all, Carter’s actions as a heroic bystander had made headlines across the entire city. The mayor was there. The press was there. There was no way Liam or I had the guts to swap the memorial portrait for a guy in a floral shirt flipping the bird. Carter was so pissed he didn’t speak to me for the rest of the day. He just floated up to the ceiling beams, dangling his legs and looking completely dead inside. It wasn’t until that night that he finally broke. I was sitting on a bench in the hospital corridor, peeling an orange. Carter squatted next to me, staring longingly at the orange, and swallowed hard. It used to be his favorite fruit. “Just give me one slice. Just one.” He held out his hand. I peeled off a slice and handed it to him. The slice of orange passed right through his palm and hit the floor. Carter froze for a second, then his face crumpled into a grimace. “Forgot. I can’t eat this stuff anymore. When you visit my grave next week, leave some for me so I can absorb the essence.” I suddenly didn’t feel like talking. I picked up the fallen slice, blew the dust off it, and popped it into my mouth. It was a little sour. The tears I hadn’t shed over the past few days suddenly fell all at once. “Hey, hey, hey! Don’t cry!” Carter panicked, clumsily trying to wipe my tears. His fingers passed right through my cheeks, leaving behind a faint, icy chill. “It’s just an orange! I don’t even want it anymore, okay?” The hospital room door opened, and a nurse walked out. “Your mother is awake. You can go in now.” I wiped my eyes and pushed the door open. My mom lay on the bed, her face ashen. She looked like she had aged ten years in the span of a few days. The moment she saw me, tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and soaked into her pillow. “Chloe, your brother… is he really gone?” “Tell me… how much did it hurt him?” Carter reached out, wanting to hold Mom’s hand. But his hand passed right through the blanket, right through her skin, grasping nothing but air. It only left behind a draft of cold wind. My mom shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “Why is it so cold…” “He must have felt so cold when he left us.” Muttering to herself, my mom broke down into devastating sobs. Tears streamed through her fingers as she covered her face. Realizing he had only made it worse, Carter quickly pulled his hand back, looking completely lost. His eyes turned red, and he turned to me. “Chloe! Tell Mom I’m right here! Tell her it didn’t hurt! Tell her I’m doing great!” “Those stabs were so fast I didn’t even have time to process it before I died! It really didn’t hurt!” Mom couldn’t hear him. She only saw me standing there with a numb expression, staring into space (at Carter). The hospital room door was suddenly pushed open, and a crowd of relatives swarmed in. Uncle Dave sighed. “Chloe, this family is going to have to rely on you from now on.” “That’s right,” Aunt Sarah chimed in. “Your brother was a hero. You’re a hero’s sister. You can’t let him down.” Suddenly, Aunt Brenda lowered her voice. “Carter died a hero. That compensation fund from the city must be a massive payout, right? You two are just a widow and a young girl now. You need to keep it safe. Don’t let outsiders scam you out of it.” My mom was still crying, completely oblivious to what was being said. I glared at my aunt. What was she trying to pull? Carter floated right up to Aunt Brenda’s face, circling her and yelling in her ear. “That money is for my sister and my mom! When my dad died, you completely dodged the fifteen grand you owed him! Pay us back! Pay us back! Pay us back!” I asked her coldly, “Aunt Brenda, what exactly are you trying to do?” “Chloe, what kind of attitude is that? I’m just looking out for you!” “Think about it. Your brother is gone, your mom’s health is failing. Is it really safe for a young girl like you to be holding onto such a massive sum of money?” “What if some bad guy tricks you out of it?” “What I’m saying is, let your Aunt Brenda hold onto it for you. I’ll invest it. When you get married, I’ll give it back to you as your dowry…” Carter let out a furious laugh. “Bullshit! I traded my life for that money, and you’re already scheming to steal it?!” I scoffed out loud. “Hold onto it for me? You mean put it toward the down payment for your son’s new house?” Aunt Brenda’s face changed. “Watch your mouth, young lady! I am your elder!” Carter hovered right in front of her, pointing at her nose. “Elder my ass! You think because there are fewer people in our family now, you can just throw away all your shame?!” Aunt Sarah and Uncle Dave stepped in, shielding my mom from Aunt Brenda. “Brenda, give it a rest. Carter just passed away. If you had an ounce of conscience, you wouldn’t be bringing this up right now.” My mom went limp again, unable to speak, sinking back into the mattress. Seeing my mom stay silent, Aunt Brenda grew even bolder. She actually reached for the purse sitting on the nightstand. “Martha, the bank cards are in here, right? What’s the PIN? We’re family, it’s not like I’d ever hurt you.” Rage rushed to my head. I shoved Aunt Brenda hard. Taking advantage of the push, Aunt Brenda dramatically threw herself onto the floor and started throwing a massive tantrum. “Ouch! She hit me! A niece hitting her elder!” “Carter is dead, you have no one to back you up anymore! It was bad enough you guys were stingy before, but now you dare bully your poor relatives?!” “I can’t live like this!” Carter was shaking with absolute fury. For the past few days, he had been entirely semi-transparent, but right now, a faint red glow began to emanate from his form. His body was slowly becoming more substantial. “Trying to touch my sister? Over my dead body!” Aunt Brenda’s cursing grew even more vicious on the floor. “That short-lived brat Carter! Did he forget his dad died trying to be a hero too?! I told him a million times to mind his own business!” “Look what happened! Threw his life away!” “Serves him right!” “He’s just cursed! A curse to his parents!” Before she could finish her sentence. Smash! A loud crash echoed through the room. The water glass on the nightstand had seemingly thrown itself onto the floor, shattering right next to Aunt Brenda’s feet. I watched as Carter rushed to the window and began furiously gesturing at the tightly locked latch. Even though he couldn’t touch physical objects, everywhere he moved left behind a trail of freezing air. And perhaps fueled by his explosive rage… Bang! Whoosh! The window violently flew open. Freezing wind howled into the room. The overhead lights began to flicker wildly. On and off. On and off. Aunt Brenda’s wailing stopped instantly. She stared in horror at the window that had opened by itself. She was sitting far away from it, yet she felt a bone-chilling draft blowing directly onto the back of her neck. Because Carter was hovering directly behind her, his face dark as thunder, intentionally flying back and forth through her body. “Aunt Brenda… is the money you leached from our family fun to spend?” “Keep talking trash, and I’ll visit your house every single night to terrorize you!” “Aunt Brenda, I’m so cold… how about I borrow some of your life force to warm up…” Aunt Brenda couldn’t hear him, but she started shivering uncontrollably. She instinctively grabbed her own neck, her teeth chattering loudly. I stared at her with ice in my eyes. “Aunt Brenda, are you cold? My brother is standing right behind you.” “He says if anyone dares to target me and my mom, he’ll take my cousin down to hell to keep him company.” “After all, he died with a lot of resentment.” Aunt Brenda screamed in sheer terror. She scrambled off the floor on her hands and knees and bolted out of the hospital room. “GHOST!!!” Peace returned to the room. The lights stabilized. Aunt Sarah tucked the blankets tightly around my mom and turned to me. “Chloe, don’t worry. You’re the sister of a hero now. They won’t dare try anything.” Uncle Dave nodded in agreement. “Exactly. If you ever have trouble, you call me. I’ll bring your two cousins over, and we’ll see if she tries to use force on you!” I gave a bitter, strained smile. “What hero’s sister? I’m not that noble. My brother was just a guy working a nine-to-five. If I had a choice, I would have rather he been a coward!” Carter looked as if he had expended every ounce of his energy. He had become even more transparent than before. He collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily. My heart tightened. While Aunt Sarah and Uncle Dave were busy comforting my mom, I lowered my voice and whispered. “Carter! Are you okay?” Between gasps, Carter squeezed out a few words. “I’m fine… just suddenly felt really tired. Lost my steam.” “Was that cool just now?” “Did I give off main-character-in-a-horror-movie vibes?” I rolled my eyes at him. Uncle Dave and Aunt Sarah slipped a silver coin under my mom’s pillow. It was an old family superstition—putting a silver coin under a sick person’s pillow would help them recover faster. Carter gathered his strength, floated back over to my mom, and gave her an invisible hug. Watching his futile gestures made my chest ache. I turned and walked out of the room to fill the thermos with hot water. Carter followed me, floating right by my ear, whispering secretively. “Chloe, let me tell you a secret. I have a secret stash of money!” “Go home and look under the insoles of the autographed sneakers on my display shelf. There’s a debit card there. The PIN is your birthday. I was saving up to buy you a car, but I guess it won’t be enough now.” “Go take it out. Buy Mom a nice massage chair first.” “Use the rest to get yourself some spa treatments. Look how haggard you’ve gotten these past few days, tsk tsk. You’re a hero’s sister now, you need to look beautiful when you cry for the cameras.” I held the thermos, gripping the edge of the sink. “Carter, shut up.” “What? What’s with the attitude!” Carter floated next to me, playing with the steam rising from the hot water. “Why haven’t you moved on?” I turned to look at him, at his childishly playful profile. “They say if a spirit still has lingering attachments, they can’t move on.” “Carter, what is your lingering attachment?” 4 My brother froze. His usual goofy grin flickered in the air for a second. His eyes darted around, and he leaned back in mid-air, shoving his face close to mine with exaggerated dramatic flair. “Oh no! You caught me!” “Of course I have one! That anime I was watching—the author is dragging it out so much, I never got to see the finale!” I curled my lip and rolled my eyes. “Just because of that?” Carter righted himself, doing a half-twirl in the air. “Well… obviously there’s more than that!” He cleared his throat, pointed a finger at me, and started lecturing. “The main reason is you!” “Me?” “Duh! Look at what a mess you are!” Carter drifted back a bit to look me up and down. “Chloe, look at yourself. You’re a young woman in her twenties, and you haven’t washed your hair in days, have you?” “And this outfit—I don’t remember you owning a gray hoodie? Wait, is that your white hoodie, just stained with a layer of grime?” He dramatically covered his nose. “How can I, a remarkably handsome and dashing brother, rest in peace knowing I have such a slob for a sister?” If this were the past, I would have already taken off my shoe and hurled it at his head. He would have yelled playfully while catching my weapon with one hand, looking incredibly smug about it. I looked down at the hoodie I was wearing. It really was filthy. “Chloe? Hello! Did you go mute?” “Alright, alright… I’m not actually judging you. I just think… you need to pull yourself together.” His voice grew quieter. “Carter, did you forget you don’t even have a physical body anymore?” I snapped back at him. “I’ll wear whatever I want, and I’ll wash my hair whenever I want. Try and force me to wash it, I dare you.” Hearing me snap at him, Carter visibly let out a sigh of relief. “Heh! You little brat. Give you an inch and you take a mile.” “Carter, if you hadn’t jumped in to take that knife… would you regret it?” Carter suddenly fell quiet. After a long time, he rubbed his nose and offered a strained smile. “Regret it? Yeah, of course I’d regret it.” “When the first knife went in, it really fucking hurt.” “I was thinking, my little Chloe isn’t even married yet. Mom hasn’t gotten to hold a grandchild yet. I barely even got to wear those sneakers I saved up forever to buy…” “But, you know…” He shrugged. “That kid was right behind me, crying so hard his voice was gone.” “If I hadn’t shielded him, the rest of those stabs would have gone right into him.” “He was what, seven? Eight? He was so tiny.” “When Dad died, his last words were that sometimes, reacting to danger is just pure instinct. I used to wonder how our dad, who was just a regular factory worker, could be so brave.” He suddenly slapped his thigh. “Ah, whatever, let’s not talk about it! It’s in the past! I’m doing great right now! I don’t have to wake up early for work, I don’t have to revise proposals because the client is an idiot, and I can supervise you 24/7!” His tone suddenly turned a little pleading. “Chloe, when you have time, can you go check on that kid for me? Honestly, if I had been just one second faster, he wouldn’t even have…” The fact that he was able to say it out loud finally lifted the heavy stone off my chest. I nodded at him.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391238”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After the divorce, my parents split me and my younger sister between them. My mom took me. She made a schedule, meticulously detailing my every waking minute for studying. She said I couldn’t lose to my sister, not by a single minute, not by a single point. She needed to prove to my dad that he was blind for giving up such a good woman. I woke up at 5:00 AM every day. She would be up even earlier, making handmade steamed buns loaded with green onions, peeling corn kernel by kernel for my porridge. I ate breakfast while staring at my vocabulary flashcards. “Breakfast takes five minutes. You should be able to memorize fifteen vocabulary words in that time. Why did you only get fourteen?” Panicking before the switch came down, I frantically flipped the page to find the word I had missed. She slammed her hand down on the book. “One word less a day means 365 less a year, 740 less in two years. You slacking off like this—is this how you repay your mother’s sacrifices?” I shook my head violently, crying that I wouldn’t do it again. My mom lowered her voice, becoming increasingly, terrifyingly gentle. “Mia, Mommy gave up your sister just to have you. Every single point you score is stolen straight from the love that should have gone to her. You have to have a conscience, you know that, right?” 1 The reason my mom didn’t want my sister, Chloe, was because Chloe never listened to her. Growing up, our house was never quiet. Arguments erupted over anything: where the slippers were placed, the trash bag not touching the wall, not holding the rice bowl with exactly three fingers, the wrong tone of voice. They could scream from sunrise to sunset over these things. My mom said the devil was in the details, and details determined whether people would respect you or look down on you. My dad said poor people shouldn’t be so damn fussy. He said he was a blue-collar carpenter. Why the hell should he wear a crisp white button-down to go eat at a diner? He didn’t have a son to go win a Nobel Prize anyway. Chloe copied him. She started talking back right alongside our dad. She wasn’t even afraid of getting hit. Whenever my mom tried to playfully tell embarrassing stories about us to the neighbors, Chloe would loudly interrupt and forbid her from continuing. When my mom cooked food Chloe hated, Chloe would rather starve than open her mouth. I would secretly try to persuade her. “Chloe, just take a bite. Aren’t you hungry?” Chloe would cover her swollen cheek from where she’d been slapped, shaking her head stubbornly. “No. If I eat it today, I’ll have to eat food I hate forever. I won’t eat it. I don’t care if she hits me.” My mom would come to me, fuming. “Tell me, I do everything for your own good so people won’t laugh at us. Why won’t she listen? Am I wrong?” She looked so pitiful. My heart ached for her. “Mom, I’ll listen to you.” My mom would hug me, looking relieved. “My oldest is the best. So considerate. Not like your heartless little sister.” But when they finally filed for divorce, the one my mom wanted to keep was Chloe. They fought in their bedroom. My mom yelled, “I don’t want the oldest! She’s stupid as a brick! Chloe has good grades and she’s smart! Why should you get to keep the good one?!” My dad yelled back, “The oldest has always taken your side! I’m not taking a kid who isn’t loyal to me!” I stood outside the bedroom door, listening to the chaos inside. Chloe walked up behind me. She handed me a hot dog on a stick. “Here, eat this. I put chili powder on it, it’s really good.” She glanced at the bedroom door, looking completely indifferent. “Let them fight, it’ll be over soon. No matter how much they scream, you’re always my big sister.” “But… what if they really get divorced? Who will you live with?” “I’ll go wherever you go. I don’t like either of them.” Unfortunately, we didn’t get to choose. We split that hot dog in the hallway. Inside the bedroom, our parents split us. My mom made a vow that she would make my dad regret it. She told him not to look down on people because they would prove him wrong. 2 From that moment on, my entire life changed. My mom poured all of her “love” and attention onto me. She was determined to mold me into the absolute perfect daughter. My grades. My appearance. My personality. Every single aspect had to be better than Chloe’s. At first, my age gave me the advantage. We weren’t in the same grade, so looking at our overall rankings, we were fairly matched. But I was taller, and my temper was much better than Chloe’s. My mom was satisfied. Until my freshman year of high school, when Chloe skipped a grade and ended up in my class. Everything changed. “She’s younger than you, she eats less than you, and she learns faster than you.” “She hasn’t taken a single tutoring class! How can her grades be the same as yours?! Stop looking at me, look at the book! …You’ve been staring at the same page for half an hour, are there flowers growing on it?! You’re a year older than her! Your time is precious, how can you waste it like this?!” She slammed a jar of chili oil on the table. “Eat a spoonful. It’ll wake you up.” The spice jolted through me. My forehead burned, and my vision blurred with tears. The next week, my mom asked about the monthly exam scores. For the exact same test, Chloe scored one point higher than me. My mom demanded to know why. I told her there was a typo in one of the test questions. Chloe pointed it out to the teacher, so the teacher gave her an extra bonus point. “Then why didn’t you point it out?” Because I didn’t dare to speak to the teachers. Ever since the last parent-teacher conference, when the teacher gently suggested my mom reduce the pressure on me, my mom went to the school and then to the school board, throwing a massive fit and accusing the teacher of lacking ethics and trying to sabotage my future. Since then, the teachers barely spoke to me unless absolutely necessary. My mom saw right through me. “You coward. How are you going to survive in the real world acting like this? I guess Mommy has to help you.” She grabbed my composition notebook. She flipped to her favorite essay, titled: My Mother. “Take this. Go down to the apartment complex gate or onto the subway and read it. Read it out loud for everyone to hear.” That essay was essentially a self-criticism letter I had written to her, word by grueling word. It was filled with pathetic, groveling flattery that was never meant for anyone else’s eyes. My scalp prickled with sheer terror. Almost instinctively, I said, “No.” My mom looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “No? Are you embarrassed? Good! You should be embarrassed! Let’s go. Mommy will go with you.” When I was shoved out to the complex gate, it was rush hour. People were everywhere. I saw classmates who lived in the same complex. I saw Chloe walking home with her friends. My face instantly flushed crimson. My mom stopped, huffed, and said, “Right here. Read.” I couldn’t open my mouth. She looked deeply pained. “I got a divorce for you. I gave up my second daughter for you. And this is how you treat me? What’s the point of me even living?” I had no choice but to open my mouth. A smile returned to my mom’s face. “Louder.” “Did you forget what Mommy taught you? Be confident! Be generous! Act like you deserve to be heard! Be elegant! Don’t cry! Put some emotion into it!” A group of elementary school kids ran past, giggling and mimicking me: “My mother is the best mother in the world, she is gentle, kind, and dedicates her whole heart—” “Whole heart—” “Whole heart—” Tears spun in my eyes. I saw the shocked looks from my classmates. I saw passing grandmothers frowning, and an older man clicking his tongue in disapproval. They were all staring at me. Chloe signaled her friends, and the two girls ran over to chase the mocking kids away. A neighbor walked by. “Carol, you’re disciplining the kid outside again? It’s freezing, take her inside.” My mom scoffed dismissively. “No pain, no gain. If I don’t discipline her now, should I wait until she ends up like those motherless kids who grow up completely ruined?” The neighbor’s mother had died when she was young. She frowned and shot me a look. In that moment, I suddenly understood her. I understood the confusion and pity in everyone’s eyes. An unprecedented, overwhelming wave of shame swallowed me whole. Blood rushed to my face, turning my neck purple. “Mom, can we please go back? I’ll listen to you from now on. I’ll do three extra practice tests tonight. Please, let’s go back.” My mom laughed brightly. “See? I told you this kind of training works! Look at you volunteering for extra work! Come on, read it one more time.” Tears rolled freely down my cheeks. On the way back, my mom was incredibly smug. “Did you see your sister’s face just now? She wishes she had picked me, but I wouldn’t take her if she begged. If you keep acting up, I might just go get her instead.” I suddenly started dry heaving. From that day on, I developed a complex. Whenever I spoke and people looked at me and smiled, I would blush uncontrollably and stammer. I couldn’t even stand at the front of the classroom to lead the morning reading anymore. I secretly went to my English teacher and resigned from my position as class representative. 3 I couldn’t absorb anything the teachers were saying in class anymore. I started memorizing practice questions instead. Most high school workbooks recycled questions from other districts or schools, so I memorized all the answer keys. The next time a test rolled around, I managed to get a decent score. The smiles on my mom’s face grew more frequent. She told anyone who would listen that I took after her, unlike my sister, who was stubborn and simple-minded like my dad. Other moms would ask her for her parenting secrets. She’d say casually, “Oh, there’s no secret. Just give them lots of love and provide good logistical support. ‘Well-rounded development’ isn’t just an empty slogan, you know! For example, when my girls were little, they both hated green onions and ginger. I just patiently taught them. If they didn’t eat it, I wouldn’t eat it either. My oldest felt bad for me, so she started eating it.” The other moms nodded in admiration. My mom smiled proudly. “I’ve worked so hard my whole life just to prove to certain people that any child placed in my care will turn out exceptional.” “Of course, of course,” they agreed. The meals on our table became increasingly elaborate. During dinner at our small table, if I happened to take an extra bite of a certain dish, my mom would immediately push that plate right in front of me. But the truth was, I hated all of them. The dishes were loaded with the green onions and ginger I despised. To stop me from picking them out, she minced them so finely they were practically dust. Whatever I ate, she would eat. If I refused to eat, she would go on a hunger strike. As always, I swallowed the food whole without chewing. “Slow down, no one is fighting you for it.” My mom looked at me with deep satisfaction. “See? You used to say you wouldn’t eat onions and ginger, and now you’ve overcome it! Don’t learn your sister’s bad habits. She’s so stubborn. Whenever I made steamed buns, I always had to make a separate filling just for her.” My mind flashed back to something Chloe told me years ago. If you don’t say no the first time, you’ll be forced to eat things you hate forever. She took a beating, but she earned the right to have her own filling. I looked up at my mom. Her smile was gentle, and she seemed to be in a very good mood. So I asked, “Mom, can you not put onions in the food from now on? I really… don’t like the taste.” “You don’t like it?” she asked slowly. I instantly regretted it. But it was too late. Her face darkened ominously. The next second, she slammed her chopsticks onto the table with a sharp crack. “Like it?! Do you think I like cooking? Do you think I like being a housewife? It’s all for you! If everyone just did what they liked, well, I’d like you to get perfect scores! I’d like you to be number one in the class! Have you given me that?!” She grew more hysterical with every word. Finally, she grabbed the plates and violently swept them all into the trash can. “If you don’t like it, then don’t eat!” She kept screaming, her rage building. Suddenly, she stood up and flipped the entire table over. “I suffered so much for you! I got a divorce for you! I didn’t even take your sister for you! And what do I get in return? I get you looking down on me?! I might as well just die!” She reached down, grabbing a jagged piece of a broken porcelain bowl, bringing it toward her wrist. “I was wrong! I like it—I can eat it! I was wrong, I’ll never say it again!” I screamed, dropping to the floor. She stared down at me coldly. “Think about what you did wrong.” Wasting food? Just as I was about to drop to my knees and dig the ruined food out of the trash can… There was a loud knocking at the door. It was the downstairs neighbor. My mom shot me a look, dropped the porcelain shard, smoothed out her clothes, and opened the door with a sweet, apologetic smile. Her muffled, gentle voice drifted in. “Oh, I’m so sorry. The kids are just acting up, sorry for the noise… She’s just being a picky eater… Yes, I’m just trying to reason with her…” Her voice seemed to drift further and further away. To outsiders, she was always gentle, always appropriate. That essay I wrote played in my head on an endless loop. “My mother is the best mother in the world, she is gentle, kind, and dedicates her whole heart to me… The only thing I can repay her with is my shallow heart. Oh, my mother, I stole your youth, yet I haven’t grown into the person you wanted me to be…” I suddenly heard myself laughing. The stupid garbage I wrote… it was actually hilarious. I looked down at the trash can beneath me and kicked it away.

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It was the second year since the Sterling family had formally acknowledged me as their biological daughter, yet I still hadn’t been allowed to move into their house. On New Year’s Eve, I told my brother I wanted to leave. He looked completely bewildered. “Just because Chloe is in the family portrait and you aren’t?” “You could say that.” He was silent for a long time before saying, “Chloe is used to being spoiled by this family. If she wasn’t in the family portrait, she wouldn’t be able to handle it.” I finally realized that in his eyes, the fake heiress was his only true sister. That was fine. I didn’t really want to go back to the Sterling house anyway. My group chat with my three adoptive brothers was blowing up. They were planning to pick me up and take me home as soon as the youngest finished recording his New Year’s Eve broadcast. I sent a short reply: [Okay.] … It was snowing heavily in Chicago on New Year’s Eve. In the private dining room of the restaurant, Chloe Sterling had prepared festive red scarves for every single relative. Except me. Someone suggested that since the whole family was gathered together, we should take a family portrait. Chloe smoothly pushed me forward, telling me to take the picture. The frame was set. Right in the dead center of the photograph, Chloe clung to Arthur Sterling’s arm, smiling brightly. No one cared that I wasn’t in the family portrait. When I told Arthur I wanted to leave, he affectionately ruffled my hair. “It was my oversight. I should have paid more attention to those little details.” “It won’t happen again, Maya. Don’t make a fuss and talk about leaving over something so trivial, okay?” I shook my head. I wasn’t angry, but I really just wanted to go home. Arthur frowned. “If you leave the Sterlings, where else can you go? Back to Seattle to pick through the garbage?” My head snapped up, and I met his gaze. For a split second, a look of pure disgust flashed through his eyes. He sighed, and his tone softened. “Alright, Maya, stop being mad. Next year—next year, I’ll make sure you’re in the family portrait, okay?” Chloe suddenly popped a segment of a mandarin orange into Arthur’s mouth, giggling as she linked her arm through his. “What’s wrong? Why are we talking about next year’s family portrait?” Seeing that neither of us spoke, she immediately sensed the tension. She dropped her smile and said softly: “Maya, don’t blame Arthur. I was just too careless. There were so many people, I accidentally mistook you for a waitress.” “I’m the only outsider here. I should have been the one taking the picture.” As she spoke, a sorrowful expression washed over her face. Arthur instinctively reached out to comfort her, but halfway there, his hand froze and pulled back. He spoke in a low, stern voice: “It’s just a photograph. It’s not a big deal.” “But Chloe, you need to understand. No matter how bad Maya’s past was, she is a daughter of the Sterling family.” “You should know better.” Chloe bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. Arthur kept a cold face and didn’t look at her again. But his heartache was impossible to hide. Back at the Vance house, my oldest brother once fished my failing test paper out of the trash. He punished me by making me copy the wrong answers, but he was worried I would get too tired. So he just sat next to me with a cold face, keeping me company the entire time. Arthur’s phone rang. He answered it, said a few words, and frowned. I faintly heard the words “formaldehyde test.” I had been back in Chicago for two years, but I had never actually stepped foot inside the Sterling house. For the first six months, they said they were remodeling my room. Then they said it needed to air out. They originally promised that once the formaldehyde test passed, I could move out of the hotel. But another year passed, and I was still living alone in a hotel room. Chloe asked, “Was that the testing company?” “How were the formaldehyde results this time?” Arthur froze for a second and didn’t answer. Chloe looked down and said, “I understand.” “The test passed, right? Maya is going to move back in.” “After the holidays, I’ll have the maid clean the room again and make Maya’s bed.” Arthur sighed softly. His warm hand grabbed my wrist. “The formaldehyde levels are still a bit high. You won’t be able to move in this month.” “After the holidays, I’ll hire a professional remediation company to do a deep clean. It will definitely pass after that.” I pulled my hand back and said calmly, “Don’t bother.” A few hours ago, the testing company had accidentally sent the results to me. Even though they quickly unsent the message. I still saw it. The room had passed the formaldehyde test six months ago. Arthur simply didn’t want me to come home. 2 If he didn’t want me to come home, why did he even bring me back to Chicago? I couldn’t understand it. At the New Year’s Eve dinner, Arthur specifically saved the seat next to him for me. Chloe pouted and found a seat as far away from him as possible. During the meal, Arthur placed a distinctly folded dumpling onto my plate. I took a bite and tasted something sweet. He looked at me gently. “Did Maya get the lucky dumpling? You’re so lucky!” “What’s your New Year’s wish?” I suddenly remembered a New Year’s Eve years ago, when my third brother intentionally smeared flour on my nose. My oldest and second brothers pinned him down on the couch, waiting for me to retaliate. I answered instinctively, “I just want to go home and have a loud, lively dinner with my family.” Arthur coughed uncomfortably. “Next year. Next year, when you move back into the house, we’ll celebrate the New Year together at home.” I realized then that he thought I was complaining. Seeing the tension, my aunt quickly served Chloe a bowl of soup. “What’s wrong, Chloe? You haven’t touched your food all night.” Chloe’s eyes turned red, her voice dripping with grievance. “Nothing, I just don’t have an appetite.” Someone nudged Arthur. “What’s wrong with Chloe? Go comfort her. Why isn’t she eating on New Year’s Eve?” His tone was cold. “If she doesn’t want to eat, let her go hungry. She’s an adult.” Chloe stiffened, and massive tears rolled down her cheeks. She turned and ran out of the room, not even grabbing her coat. Arthur didn’t chase after her. He just let out a soft sigh. “Maya is your biological sister, but Chloe has been with the Sterlings since she was five. Arthur, you can’t be biased and only treat Maya well while ignoring Chloe’s feelings.” He gave a cold “Mm,” and the relatives didn’t push the issue further. They went back to drinking and chatting, quickly forgetting the minor drama. I didn’t even notice when Arthur slipped away from the table. A mischievous little boy pointed a finger gun at me and muttered, “Pew, pew, shooting the garbage picker.” No one disciplined him, and no one paid any attention to me. I looked down and checked my phone. My second brother texted to ask if it was snowing heavily in Chicago. I looked out the window, stood up, and went downstairs to take a picture of the snow for him. As soon as I reached the ground floor, I heard the sound of sobbing. Under a streetlamp, Arthur was wrapping his own overcoat around Chloe. Snow fell heavily around them. He gently wiped the tears from her face with his thumb. “Arthur, do you not want me anymore?” Arthur’s voice was tender. “Silly, how could I not want you?” “Maya’s situation is actually quite pitiful. When I found her in Seattle, she was digging through the trash.” “If I treat her a little better, she won’t be jealous of you or target you, and your life in the Sterling house will be much easier.” Chloe looked up at him. “Really? But when she moves into the house, will you still feel that way?” He tapped her nose affectionately. “I already bought her a small condo on the South Side. As long as she has a place to live, she’ll be perfectly satisfied.” “Don’t worry, I won’t let her move into the main house.” The wind-driven snow hit my face like a stinging slap. I couldn’t help but shiver. I stood frozen for a long time before remembering to snap a picture of the snow and send it to my second brother. Then I dialed a number I hadn’t called in a long time. “Mom, I miss you so much.” On the other end of the line, Mrs. Vance paused, her voice choking up. “Maya, Mom misses you too.” “Are they treating you badly? Do you want to come back to Seattle this year?” “The Sterlings are just a small, ordinary family. Are you getting used to life there?” Mrs. Vance asked question after question, and I didn’t even know which one to answer first. I laughed, but my nose stung with unshed tears. “I’m coming home today. My brothers said they’re coming to pick me up.” “Good, good, that’s wonderful. Which of those three brats is going to get you?” My heart swelled with warmth. “All of them.” 3 When I returned to the private dining room, the relatives were getting ready to watch the New Year’s Gala. Chloe was leaning against Arthur, occasionally showing him something on her phone, the two of them laughing uproariously. I thought to myself, if I hadn’t come back inside, I doubt anyone would have even noticed I was gone. The younger kids in the family started screaming at the TV, “Leo! It’s Leo!” Festive music flooded the room. I stared blankly at the person on the screen, my eyes growing moist. He looked much thinner than the last time I saw him, but he was still a presence that made it impossible to look away. The five-minute opening act finished, and the camera froze on that impossibly handsome face. The sound of camera shutters clicked. Chloe was taking pictures of the TV screen. “Arthur, didn’t you say you have a friend who knows Leo’s manager?” “Can you ask him to get me VIP tickets to his concert?” “I absolutely HAVE to go to his concert!” Arthur agreed indulgently, “Alright, alright, I’ll definitely get you tickets this year.” My phone buzzed. A new message popped up in the group chat. [Phew, finally done. I’m rushing to the airport right now!] [@Maya, did your third brother look handsome?] [Where’s the oldest? Did he not watch my performance?!] My second brother replied to him: [Your oldest brother is on a business trip in Berlin. He’s on a flight to Chicago right now. He said he’ll watch the replay.] I quickly typed a reply: [Leo, you lost weight, but you still looked super handsome!] “Who are you texting?” Arthur’s cold voice came from right above me. I instinctively shoved my phone into my pocket. He stared at me intensely. “Why are you calling random, shady guys ‘brother’? I am your only brother.” I froze for a few seconds, suddenly realizing it had been a very long time since I had called him “brother.” When I first returned to Chicago, I genuinely saw him as my only family. Back then, he took meticulous care of me. When the hotel AC made the air too dry, he immediately bought a humidifier and brought it over. No matter how busy he was with work, he would make time every week to take me shopping or to the movies. Once, he got drunk at a business dinner and stumbled into my hotel room. That was the first time I heard him say how guilty he felt. If it wasn’t for him, I never would have been abducted. That was the first time I saw him cry uncontrollably, promising to protect me and never let anyone hurt me again. Perhaps even he didn’t realize whether his feelings for me were rooted in guilt or genuine affection. Chloe’s gasp pulled me out of my thoughts. “Wow, is this Leo when he was a kid?!” “He was so cute!” “I didn’t know he had two older brothers and a younger sister!” Leo had just posted a family portrait on Twitter. I was only six in the photo. It was the year the Vance family adopted me. My second aunt glanced at the photo and said softly, “That little girl looks really familiar.” A moment later, she muttered to herself, “She looks a lot like Maya when she was little.” I was about to speak when I heard Arthur laugh. “When Maya was little, she was just a dark, skinny little monkey. She didn’t inherit any of our mother’s beauty.” “How could she look like a kid from the Vance family?” “You guys don’t understand. Leo isn’t just some ordinary celebrity. The Vance family’s power in Seattle is beyond anything you could ever imagine.” My second aunt chuckled. “I’m getting old. I guess I can’t even remember what you guys looked like as kids anymore.” I closed my mouth and stayed silent. So Arthur had completely forgotten what I looked like as a child too. 4 Everyone went back to casually chatting and scrolling through their phones. The younger kids were already whining about wanting to go home. I wanted to leave too, but Arthur insisted I stay to count down to midnight. Chloe let out a yawn. “Arthur, when are we going home?” “Be good. We’ll keep Maya company until midnight, and then we’ll leave.” Chloe checked the time, looking completely exhausted. “But we have an early flight to catch tomorrow.” “I haven’t even finished packing. I don’t even know if it’s cold in Switzerland right now.” She suddenly covered her mouth, looking at Arthur in a panic. Arthur said calmly, “Maya, I promised Chloe a while ago that after her grad school entrance exams, I’d take her to Switzerland to ski.” “I’m busy with work, and the New Year holiday is the only time I have off. You’ve never been out of the country, and getting a passport takes time, so I can only take Chloe.” The relatives chimed in to agree. “Chloe worked really hard studying for those exams. She deserves a good break.” “Exactly. Maya, the Sterling family has always been broad-minded. You wouldn’t get upset over something so trivial, right?” Everyone’s words boxed me into a corner. If I said a single word of complaint now, I would be the unreasonable one. But I didn’t understand. Since Arthur was taking Chloe out of the country for the holidays. Why did he insist on keeping me in Chicago? I could have had a loud, joyous New Year. “Maya, don’t be mad. When I get back, I’ll take you to the movies, okay?” I laughed until tears came to my eyes. I just wanted to leave. As I turned around, something slipped out of my pocket and fell to the floor. Before I could get a good look at it, Chloe picked it up. “What’s this?” She immediately slipped the bracelet made of ceramic beads onto her own wrist. “Is this for Arthur? It’s a bit big, looks kind of clunky.” I looked closely. It was the bracelet I had made for my brothers. Last month, I went to a pottery town. I tried to buy tea sets for my brothers, but they refused. They said they only wanted something I made with my own two hands. So I had to learn how to make ceramic beads, and I strung a bracelet for each of them. I reached out to snatch it back, but Chloe intentionally dropped it onto the floor. A navy blue ceramic bead shattered into two pieces. I stood frozen for a few seconds, my chest incredibly tight. I raised my hand and slapped Chloe across the face. The sharp crack was followed by Arthur’s explosive rage. “Maya, are you insane?!” “It’s just a trashy bracelet! Is this really necessary?!” “If I had known you were this ill-mannered and couldn’t tolerate Chloe, I never would have brought you back.” “Whether you’re digging through the trash or starving to death, I wouldn’t have cared!” I glared at him furiously, my eyes burning. “Why did you come looking for me? Why did you bring me back?” “I was doing just fine. I was happy.” “You brought me back, but you refuse to accept me. You forcibly turned me into an orphan.” Scalding tears rolled down my cheeks. I was done playing along with his act. A flicker of guilt and panic appeared in his eyes: “I was just being impulsive. Chloe just dropped it by accident. You shouldn’t have hit her.” A crisp knock came from the door. Arthur’s assistant stood there. “Mr. Sterling, the CEO of Vance Enterprises—the one you’ve been trying to contact for six months—just suddenly showed up in Chicago. Should we arrange to pay him a visit?” Arthur paused and asked, “Why is he suddenly in Chicago?” Before he could get an answer, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. A familiar voice rang out: “Maya, I’m not late, am I?” I looked up at the man, and the tears I’d been holding back finally fell. 5 The door to the private room was wide open. A chilling gust of cold air swept in. The man standing in the doorway was tall and imposing. The heavy, oppressive aura around him belonged to someone used to wielding absolute power. But when his eyes landed on me, they softened considerably. “Maya, what’s wrong?” Arthur’s tone was incredibly hostile. “Who are you?” “Do you not know this is a private family dinner?” His assistant sprinted over, his face pale as a ghost. He whispered frantically into Arthur’s ear: “That is Alexander Vance, the mysterious CEO of Vance Enterprises!” “We’ve been trying to set up a meeting with them for six months and couldn’t even get past his secretary!” Arthur’s pupils contracted sharply. A stiff, aggressively sycophantic smile spread across his face. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “So it’s Mr. Vance! What an honor!” “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming to Chicago? I would have arranged a proper reception for you!” Alexander ignored him completely, walking straight toward me. He bent down. And picked up the ceramic bead that had shattered into two pieces. He examined it in the palm of his hand. “Are you Maya’s brother, Arthur Sterling?” Arthur looked confused. He thought about it for a moment, then his face hardened. He suddenly turned to me and barked sternly: “Maya! Did you do something to offend Mr. Vance?!” Alexander let out a barely audible, icy scoff. He took a step forward. His overwhelming presence forced Arthur to instinctively take a step back. “Did you break my bracelet?” Arthur’s mind went completely blank. “Your bracelet?” At that exact moment, another figure appeared in the doorway. The newcomer wore gold-rimmed glasses, exuding a gentle, scholarly elegance. Snowflakes still clung to his coat. The moment he walked in, he furrowed his brow and looked at me. “Why are you dressed so lightly again?” “How many times have I told you? Chicago winters are damp and cold. You’ll get sick.” Only after scolding me did he turn to Alexander. His tone carried the authority of an older brother. “Alexander, what is wrong with you?” “I reminded you this morning to make sure you brought Maya a down jacket, and you forgot again?” That brief exchange instantly erected an invisible wall around us. All the petty drama of the Sterling family seemed utterly laughable in their presence. Chloe stared at the newcomer, her face draining of color. She whispered: “Professor Julian Vance? The advisor for the grad program I applied to… what is he doing here?” Arthur followed her gaze. He also recognized the man, a prominent figure in both the financial and academic worlds. A friend in the investment circle had once mentioned that whoever managed to hire Julian Vance as a consultant essentially held the golden key to the future. Hearing his name, Julian glanced at Chloe. Half a second later, he looked away. He took off his own scarf and wrapped it securely around me, leaving only my eyes visible. “Let’s go. Let’s go home.” Julian casually grasped my wrist. Alexander stood guard on my other side. They led me away, walking out under the dumbfounded stares of everyone in the Sterling family. Arthur suddenly snapped out of his daze. He chased after us, blocking my path. His voice was hoarse. “Maya, where are you going?” “We agreed to spend New Year’s Eve together as a family.” Julian stopped and looked at him. His tone was flat. “Mr. Sterling, you might be confused.” “Maya Vance is my sister.” “As far as any of us are concerned, the Vance family is Maya’s only family.” He seemed to remember something and turned to ask Alexander. “I almost forgot about Leo. Where is he? He’s ten minutes late.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391236”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

During the year I hit rock bottom, I agreed to my mother’s demand. I would marry a man in place of my twin sister and take care of her newly blind husband. What they didn’t know was that in this game of playing the substitute, I had fallen far too deep into my role. Later, when we met again, he was holding my sister’s hand, announcing to the media that they were going to hold a grand wedding. Everyone said they were a match made in heaven, their love stronger than gold. He twisted the wedding band on his finger, his gaze dropping to the audience. “My wife is the best woman in the world.” My sister smiled radiantly beside him. And I stood in the audience, fighting back tears, clapping for their beautiful love story. 1 “Here is one million dollars.” The elegantly dressed woman sitting on the sofa handed me a check. I stared at her for a few seconds before finally stepping forward to take it. “After today, Harrison’s vision will be fully restored. So, it’s time for both of you to return to your rightful places.” That’s right. The woman sitting on the sofa was my biological mother, Evelyn. She looked dotingly at the girl standing next to her. “Lily, you two should communicate about the minor details of your daily life. You absolutely cannot let Harrison notice anything is off.” The girl nodded obediently. “I know, Mom.” After Evelyn left, Lily dropped her innocent act. She crossed her legs and looked at me with smug satisfaction. “Mia, my dear sweet sister.” “You really should win an Oscar. If it wasn’t for you, how could Harrison have fallen so deeply in love with me?” “Regardless, for these past two years, I suppose I owe you a thank you.” I looked at the face that resembled mine by about sixty or seventy percent, and forced a slight twitch of my lips. “Yeah.” “But seriously, your acting is incredible. How about you become my permanent body double?” “As for the pay, I’ll take eighty percent, you take twenty. How’s that? Being an actress is way better than whatever else you’d be doing.” I shook my head. “The entertainment industry isn’t for me.” Yes, Lily was my twin sister. When I was three years old, our dad died in an accident. Evelyn already despised him. Less than twenty-four hours after his death, she packed her bags, took my sister, and left. I grew up in a small, rural town, living a life without parents. My grandma raised me all by herself. But two years ago, Grandma fell severely ill, and I had absolutely no money to save her. When I was at the end of my rope, my mother suddenly showed up. That was when I learned that after leaving the country, she had married her current husband. He was a very powerful man. And also her first love. She told me she could get me the best doctors and the best medical care for Grandma, plus an extra million dollars. The condition was that I had to marry a man in my sister’s place and take care of him until he recovered. Faced with my grandma’s failing life, I couldn’t care less about morals, or what was right and wrong. All I knew was that Grandma was my only family left in this world. I couldn’t lose her. I had to save her. Lily’s fiancé was Harrison Vance. In a terrible accident, he had lost his sight. The doctors said his recovery timeline was completely unpredictable. Lily never liked Harrison to begin with, and when she found out he was blind, she resisted the marriage even more. She thought he was a cripple—a rich and powerful cripple, but a cripple nonetheless. But she couldn’t break off the engagement. This was a hard-won opportunity for her stepfather’s family. With the Vance family’s connections, they could reach entirely new heights. However, right around that time, Lily was diagnosed with a brain tumor. She needed to go abroad for surgery. Her return date was uncertain, so my mother suddenly remembered she had another daughter. When we were little, Lily and I looked exactly alike. Even our mother couldn’t tell us apart. But as we grew up, we only shared a passing resemblance. Because she had gotten plastic surgery. She altered the eyes and nose that looked too much like our father’s. Because she, too, was sick of that poor man and wanted to erase every trace of him from her face. Fortunately, the power of modern makeup is incredible. Plus, before marrying Harrison, my mother put me through rigorous training to mimic Lily’s every mannerism. So, no one noticed the cracks. Sometimes, even I caught myself wondering whether I was Mia or Lily. 2 I handed a small notebook to Lily. Inside was a detailed record of everything between Harrison and me over the past two years. It included all our anniversaries, his living habits, his preferences… The one I gave her was a copy. I planned to keep the original for myself. Weren’t those two years acting as Lily the exact years I got everything I ever wanted? It was only when I handed the notebook back to her that it truly hit me: I was just a stand-in. The past two years were nothing but a beautiful dream. Lily flipped through it casually. Her expression suddenly turned fascinating, as if she’d read something incredibly entertaining. “You and Harrison actually had sex?” She looked amused. My face flushed. I had written it vaguely, but I didn’t expect her to be so blunt. “Alright, alright, my good sister, I’ll stop teasing you.” She looked a bit excited. “That’s great, actually. I’ve never tried a man like Harrison before.” “Oh, right. Just to be safe, once things are stable with him, I’m going to get a little more work done on my face. That way, you won’t have to live your life hiding in the shadows.” She was surprisingly considerate of me in that regard. But mostly, I guessed she just wanted to get her lips done. After all, our lips still looked exactly like our dad’s. I forced a smile, feeling a pang of sorrow for my father. I remember when we were little, Dad used to carry us both on his shoulders, telling us we were his little princesses… And now, his other daughter wanted to completely erase the facial features she shared with him. I nodded. “Whatever you want.” Lily looked at me for a moment, then tossed me a set of keys. “This is my apartment. You can stay there for now.” “Remember, until I have my footing with him, you must wear a mask every time you go outside.” I nodded obediently, then left their house. I held the keys, but my mind dragged me back to two years ago. When my mother found me, her demands went beyond just being Lily’s stand-in for the marriage. While Lily was recovering from surgery, I also had to fulfill her lifelong dream. To be an actress. Lily had dreamed of being a movie star since she was a kid, but she could never get into the film academies. She was about to give up, but when my mother saw me, she thought it was worth a shot. If I succeeded, when Lily returned, all the glory and fame would belong to her. If I failed, Lily wouldn’t be the one taking the heat from the public. She had absolutely nothing to lose. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Mia, is it really that hard to accept that your mother just doesn’t love you? Maybe it wasn’t that she didn’t love me; she just didn’t love my father. And by extension, she hated the daughter who looked like him and chose to stay with him. I had seen it countless times. Whenever I stood in front of her without makeup, the sheer disgust on her face was impossible to hide. It was true. I was her ultimate shame. When she left the house, I refused to go with her. To her, that meant I was forever her enemy. And Lily, who left with her, was her only true daughter. 3 Harrison had his final surgery, and today was the day the bandages were coming off. Before going into the operating room, he held my hand, looking nervous. “Honey, will you be there when I wake up?” I kissed his eyes. “Of course I will.” He hugged me, smiling brightly. “I want to see you…” Like I was possessed, I hailed a cab to the hospital. I just wanted to see him. Even though the person who promised to stay by his side was supposed to be Lily. Just let me indulge this one last time, I comforted myself. I bundled myself up tightly in a heavy coat, a hat, and a face mask. From the moment I agreed to be a stand-in, I ceased to be a good person, didn’t I? Soon, I arrived outside Harrison’s VIP room. He was the sole heir to the Vance family. With his vision being restored today, the room was packed with people. And standing right in the center of it all was Lily. “Harrison, don’t be nervous,” Lily said, holding his hand soothingly. The doctor slowly unwound the gauze. Harrison’s previously unfocused eyes blinked, then locked squarely onto Lily. “Honey, you’re so beautiful!” Even from the hallway, I could clearly hear the sheer joy in his voice. His parents started teasing him, saying he’d completely forgotten about them now that he could see his wife. The cheers and laughter from inside suddenly felt piercing to my ears. I didn’t want to stay any longer, so I turned and walked away. Sitting on a bench outside the hospital, I looked up at the lit window of Harrison’s room. There really was nothing to be sad about, right? The person Harrison loved was always meant to be Lily. When he was blind, Harrison had a terrible temper. That was right after we got our marriage license. It was my first time being in close proximity to him. He smashed everything in our bridal suite to pieces. That was when I learned that the boy who had stolen my heart at first glance years ago actually had a horrible personality. At the time, I thought to myself: Is he really blind, or is he just faking it to throw a tantrum? He constantly spoke to me with biting coldness. Judging by how viciously he insulted me, I figured his relationship with the real Lily hadn’t been that great to begin with. I never took it to heart, because the person he was cursing wasn’t actually me. Over time, because I never talked back, he got bored. He actually started treating me with a lot more respect. Later on, under my careful care, Harrison gradually grew dependent on me. He stopped lashing out with cruel words. But back then, besides taking care of him, I also had to juggle my acting career. Whenever I was filming a movie, Harrison would move into a hotel near my set. And he would stay there until we wrapped. Sometimes, his insecurities would flare up. One time, as soon as I got back to the hotel, I leaned in to wipe his eyes with a warm towel. The moment I got close, he grabbed my wrist, his voice dripping with grievance. “You smell like another man.” I was confused. It was probably just the cologne rubbing off from my male co-star during a scene. It was just a normal part of the job. I planned to give him a quick, casual excuse and brush it off. But his eyes turned red, and he lost his temper again. “Lily, do you think I’m repulsive?! Do you think I’m just a useless cripple?!” Watching him throw a hysterical fit, I felt a surge of my own grievances. Who was looking down on him? At that time, I was walking on eggshells, terrified of my identity being exposed, while exhausting myself acting on set. I was doing things I wasn’t good at, but was forced to do. The one who wanted to be an actress was the real Lily, not me! The more I thought about it, the more wronged I felt, and my quiet sobs quickly turned into loud crying. That terrified Harrison. He followed the sound of my crying, found me, and pulled me gently into his arms. He held me until I slowly calmed down, and he calmed down with me. “Lily, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Next time I—” Before he could finish, I shut him up. By stealing his first kiss. I grabbed him by his tie, my voice still thick with tears. “Harrison Vance, I like you! Do you have any idea?!” Only I knew that in that split second, I wasn’t Lily. I was Mia. The Mia who had fallen in love with him the very first time she saw him in high school. After a long time, I let go of him. He hadn’t even processed what happened, just sitting there completely stunned. “I’m going to get you some water!” Just as I tried to stand up, he reached out blindly and yanked me back. “I didn’t catch that. Let’s try it again.” 4 I stayed in Lily’s apartment for nearly a month. During that time, I rarely went out. Lily never came to look for me either. I figured she was adapting to her life perfectly well. After all, everything had returned to its rightful owner. But a week later, Lily suddenly showed up at the apartment. “What’s wrong?” She angrily ripped off her sunglasses and mask. “Tell me the truth! Is Harrison normal?!” I hesitated. “What do you mean? Normal in what way?” “What do I mean?! Don’t play dumb! I’ve been living with him for a month!” “I am this gorgeous, and he hasn’t even touched me!” Lily’s eyes were full of disgust. “Tell me! Is he impotent?!” Where she couldn’t see, I let out a massive sigh of relief. If Lily had come here today to complain about the intimate details of their sex life, I probably would have been sick to my stomach. Maybe deep down, I couldn’t bear the thought of sharing the Harrison I had spent two years with. “I… I don’t know.” “A man who can’t perform isn’t a real man!” Lily ground her teeth. “If Mom hadn’t forbidden it, I’d make you go back and cover for me again!” I was shocked. Did Lily really just suggest bringing me in for marital… duties? “What are you looking at me for? Do you want to live like a nun?!” I shook my head like a rattle drum. I didn’t know what was going on with Harrison, but based on my personal experience, there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. After all, I still vividly remembered the time I couldn’t get out of bed for three days. “And another thing, how exactly did you act on set?” Compared to Harrison, Lily seemed much more concerned with her career. I told her the truth. She frowned, quickly losing patience. “Whatever. I have the Vance and Sterling families backing me now. Even if my acting sucks, I’ll still get the best roles!” “Being eye candy isn’t a bad gig anyway.” She seemed to have just come to vent, and once she was done, she left. But before leaving, she told me her lip fillers and alterations were done. Which meant I was free to do whatever I wanted now. “Oh, considering you did me a huge favor…” “If you ever hit a dead end, you can come work at the Sterling Corporation.” Lily grabbed her designer bag and clacked away in her heels. Go to the Sterlings? I laughed bitterly. If I could help it, I never wanted anything to do with them ever again. The very first thing I did after Lily left was pack my bags and move out of her apartment. I went back to my hometown. Fortunately, Grandma had been moved from the ICU to a regular ward. She had several private nurses taking care of her. I was relieved to know she was recovering, though it would take time before she fully woke up. I stayed in my hometown with her for a week before heading back to the city. But I didn’t return to Lily’s apartment. Since she was adapting to her identity, our business was officially concluded. I had the one million dollars. After setting aside Grandma’s future medical bills, there was still plenty left for her recovery care.

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Chapter 1 Arthur cheated on me with a female subordinate who was twelve years younger than him. After I found out, he chose to return to our family. Until I accidentally saw an unsigned text message on his phone. [I’m getting married tomorrow. Can you come to Seattle to see me one last time?] It takes three hours to drive from our city to Seattle. If he left now, he would get there around 1:00 AM. Watching my husband pack his suitcase, I said softly: “Taking that many clothes, are you planning to sleep with her again?” “Oh, do you need me to pack a box of condoms for you two?” Arthur tilted his head back, his face showing a level of exhaustion I had never seen before. “Mia, I already chose you. What more do you want?” “Are you really not going to be satisfied until you drive me to my grave?” I remembered the look of sheer panic on his face when I caught him and Lily renting a hotel room. And just like the betrayed wives on TV, driven by absolute rage and heartbreak, I tore into them, hitting and scratching. I took photos of their disgraceful affair and exposed them online. Lily lost all face. Shortly after being fired from the company, she moved back to her hometown. Because of the scandal, a massive contract Arthur had secured fell through, and he was fired from his position as a director. And under the “condemnation” of his own conscience, he knelt before me, apologized, and returned to our family. After returning, he yielded to my every whim. If I said go east, he didn’t dare go west. Even when he was in the crucial stages of launching his own startup, he took on the unprecedented pressure of caring for our one-month-old daughter just so I could get a good night’s sleep. In just one short year, apart from being a bit busy and tired, his new company had gotten on track and was steadily improving. As his status rose, he enjoyed the prestige and admiration of those around him. It was as if he faced no karma at all. Oh, except for the early days when he overworked himself and caught a few severe colds. And this was what he called me driving him to his grave? How ironic. I smirked. “Arthur, how do you have the nerve to say that?” “Did you forget you swore you would never go looking for her again?” Arthur folded his clothes back into the closet one by one, finally closing the suitcase. “Mia, it’s been a long time since we visited Director Lee and the kids at the orphanage. Let’s go together tomorrow.” “Let’s go to sleep early before the baby wakes up. You know how fussy she gets when she’s fully rested.” Arthur’s nonchalant face held a trace of gentleness. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, but I didn’t feel the pain. I absolutely hated this act of his—dodging the issue and pretending everything was fine. He was the one who made the mistake! Why could he act so calm and collected?! I mocked him, “What about Lily? You love her so much. If you don’t go to Seattle, aren’t you afraid she’ll be heartbroken? Or are you afraid lightning will strike you for breaking your vow?” His expression remained placid. “Mia, those kids love the meat buns from that shop on the south side. Remember to bring some tomorrow.” Arthur was always like this. The colder and more detached he appeared on the surface, the more intense the emotions he hid inside. That was how he used to be with me, and it was how he still was with Lily. I couldn’t help but want to tear off his hypocritical mask. I pulled open a drawer, took out a stack of letters, and fighting down the nausea churning in my stomach, I read them aloud, word by word, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Lily, you are like a cloud in the sky, untainted by a single speck of dirt. Seeing you made me realize such pure, crystal-clear goodness truly exists in this world.” “Everyone says clouds easily scatter, but I insist on keeping you, this precious cloud, hidden in my heart. Year after year, I will protect you and keep you as pure as the day we met.” Chapter 2 “All I seek in this life is to drift alongside you, never to be separated from dawn till dusk.” “Lily, the woman sharing my bed is not the one holding my heart. Only in the deep of the night, when dreams return, can I see your face as it was—so pure it makes my heart tremble.” A crack finally appeared in Arthur’s facade. He completely lost control and roared, “Shut up! Mia, I just made one mistake! Haven’t I atoned enough over this past year?!” “It’s in the past! Why do you always have to hold onto it?!” With a cold laugh, I grabbed a pair of women’s panties embroidered with twin lotus flowers and threw them at his face. “I’m holding onto it? Yeah, the love letters you wrote to her were so moving, I just had to collect them. A constant reminder to you that hidden in your heart is a pure, beautiful Lily!” “And furthermore, is that what you call atonement? Penny isn’t just my daughter. Taking care of her is just you fulfilling your basic responsibilities!” Arthur had always been romantic. When he loved someone, he constantly did cheesy things like this. In the past, I would pretend to be grossed out, but secretly, I loved it. I thought he would only ever love me in this life. Until one day, while cleaning out of boredom, I found this stack of paper in a box at the very bottom of his bookshelf. Over the course of two years, he wrote five hundred and twenty-one love letters for her. The twin lotus panties Lily gave him were her response to his deep affection. It was like I had opened Pandora’s box. The demons inside instantly devoured my soul. That day, due to the extreme emotional distress, I went into premature labor. And Arthur, unaware that I had discovered their dirty secret, continued to play the role of the star-crossed lover with Lily, right up until the moment I exposed them. The day I finished my one-month postpartum confinement, I stuffed that thick stack of love letters into my backpack and marched to his company, intending to expose them in front of everyone. But the receptionist told me Arthur had taken Lily out to run errands for purchasing. A female colleague, seeing my pale, weakened state, thought I was genuinely there to deliver documents to my husband. Out of pity, she said, “This morning I heard Mr. Vance tell Lily he was taking her to the Butterfly Hotel.” The last shred of hope in my heart shattered. I didn’t care about anything anymore. When I arrived at the hotel, the staff thought I was there to cause trouble, so I had no choice but to call the police. With the help of the police, I finally saw my husband in a suite, looking panicked but protectively shielding his mistress. I lost my mind. I fought desperately, cursed them using the most vicious language in the world, and took photos to expose them. The whole process went smoothly and wasn’t difficult, but it drained every ounce of my strength. Arthur rubbed his temples, impatient. “Is this really necessary? That time at the hotel, yes, I lost my mind for a moment, but that was the only time we were intimate. After you caused that scene, nothing happened between us in the end, did it?” I snapped back, “You don’t need to make your cheating sound so righteous!” “Arthur, you are truly despicable!” Arthur smirked, his tone calm and cruel. “Mia, do you know? The more unreasonably you act, the more beautiful Lily becomes in my heart.” “You can never compare to her. Let’s see how long you can keep this tantrum up.” My breathing grew heavy. I stared at him, my eyes locked onto his. He finally showed some emotion, but my chest felt like it was crushed by a boulder, suffocating me. The man whose eyes were once filled only with love for me had become hideous. I had considered just letting this go. He had repented, changed his ways, and returned to the family, and we had a baby daughter who needed us. But over the past year, every time he tried to share a bed with me, every time he wanted to be intimate, I always thought of the image of him and Lily entangled together. Chapter 3 It disgusted me to the point of nausea. I couldn’t pretend nothing had happened. The grievances and resentment building up inside me finally erupted. I screamed, “Then divorce me and go marry her! Arthur, you don’t have to keep pretending to be so accommodating! Looking at you makes me want to throw up!” After saying that, I picked up the panties and ripped them to shreds. “Sluts! You’re both sluts!” Arthur watched my fury with a satisfied expression. He reached out and wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. “See? Ruining yourself like this just to provoke me, is it worth it?” “Mia, that incident is in the past. Why can’t you just live a normal life?” “We have a daughter now. Don’t bring up divorce again.” I slapped his hand away forcefully and gave no response. Our fighting woke our daughter, and she started crying relentlessly. I walked to the crib, picked her up, and rocked her. Arthur watched for a moment, then closed the bedroom door and left. After I finally coaxed Penny back to sleep, I went to the living room to get water to mix her formula, only to be hit by the overwhelming stench of alcohol. I looked at Arthur. He was sitting on the floor, his eyes glazed with drunkenness. Several empty liquor bottles lay by his feet. He looked half-dead. Hah, drinking alone to mourn his precious Lily getting married? His phone suddenly rang. He glanced at it, his expression shifting slightly, and with trembling hands, he pressed answer. “Lily, I’m here.” The woman’s voice on the other end was soft and sweet. “Arthur, she won’t let you come see me, will she?” Arthur’s eyes darkened. “Lily, she is my wife, and we have a daughter together. I have to be responsible.” “I understand, Arthur. You are a good man who takes responsibility. I know my judgment in men isn’t wrong.” Lily’s voice was light, as if she were about to break. Arthur gripped the phone tightly, his voice gentle. “Yeah. We shouldn’t see each other anymore unless it’s necessary. Lily, I wish you and him a happy marriage and a long life together.” Just as he was about to hang up, Lily pleaded: “Arthur, can you let me say a few words to her?” Arthur was silent for a moment before handing the phone to me. “Lily wants to say a few words to you. Keep your temper in check. Don’t scare her.” I didn’t take the phone, but Lily spoke as if she knew I was right there. “Mia, since he’s already returned to his family, I beg you to treat him better from now on. The grievances and exhaustion he suffers making money outside aren’t any less than yours.” “He doesn’t like spicy food. He likes sweet soup, especially mango sago pomelo. Don’t let him eat too much cold food in the summer; his stomach isn’t great.” “Oh right, I bought him a neck massager before. His neck and shoulders ache, so remember to massage them for him when you have time. Also, his career is on the rise right now, and you just had a baby not long ago. You should be careful when you two are intimate. Don’t get pregnant again and distract him. Remember to wear a condom…” I sneered. “Are you done?” “You are truly a cheap slut! You’re so far away, yet you still want to meddle in our lives! Since you can’t let him go, how about I box him up and ship him to your bed tomorrow?! Just in time to swap out your groom!” “Anyway, a shameless homewrecker like you shouldn’t be afraid of what people say, right? Might as well let everyone see this…” Arthur quickly yanked the phone away and roared at me, “Shut up! Are you out of your mind?!” I glared at him, my eyes filled with hatred. “She had the guts to do it, so I have the guts to say it. Arthur, the two of you are shameless scum! How dare you act all lovey-dovey right in front of my face!” From the phone came the soft, muffled sound of Lily crying. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make your wife angry.” Chapter 4 Arthur’s face grew even darker. “Mia. Apologize.” All my reason was burned away by fury. It felt like I was back in the hotel catching them in the act. I beat him and scratched him frantically. “Apologize my ass! Arthur, are you even human?! You two will rot in hell! Rot in hell!” Arthur covered his face and shoved me away, furious. “Mia, are you deaf?! Did you not hear me saying goodbye to Lily just now?! If you keep acting like a lunatic, believe me, I will go to Seattle to find her right now!” When he said that last sentence, a flash of anticipation clearly crossed his eyes. He wanted to go see Lily. But he had to maintain the facade of a good man, making sacrifices and taking responsibility. Making me look like an irredeemable villain. Implying that I forced him to this point. I let out a cold laugh, ran back into the bedroom, grabbed the clothes he had just packed, threw them into his suitcase, and hurled it at his feet. “Get out!” “Arthur, just looking at you makes me feel dirty.” “Mia, you asked for this. Let’s see how you raise a daughter all by yourself without me.” Arthur’s lips curled into a callous smile. He grabbed his suitcase and left. The living room finally fell silent. It felt like all my strength had been drained. I collapsed onto the floor, hugging my knees, and cried silently. It wasn’t until my daughter started crying again that I forced myself up, shook the half-mixed formula until it was smooth, and took it back to the bedroom. I held my daughter’s tiny body and didn’t close my eyes all night. I was the one being driven to my grave. By him and Lily. For the past year since Arthur returned, our relationship seemed harmonious on the surface. But I was becoming increasingly unhinged. In the middle of the night, I would always dream of those two pale bodies tangled together on the hotel bed. I started crying uncontrollably. My whole body would shake involuntarily. I would scream, throw things, and use a knife to cut my arms. If Arthur came home even a little late, I would pick fights with him, dripping with sarcasm. Over and over again, I suspected he had another woman on the side. At first, he would patiently explain, but later, he just started sleeping in a different room. The relationship between us slowly froze over. It wasn’t until one day, when I stood on the edge of the eighteenth floor holding my daughter, wanting to jump, that I suddenly snapped awake. I almost died. I had become the “melodramatic” and “neurotic” postpartum woman Arthur complained about—I had postpartum depression. Standing on the roof, the cold wind cleared my head. I started trying to save myself. I saw doctors. I took medication. But today, Arthur, the very cause of it all, had pushed me back into the abyss. This disgusting, broken marriage… it ends here. I stayed awake until dawn. Arthur still hadn’t returned, but his parents showed up first. His father looked me up and down and started scolding me. “Fighting with Arthur again? Mia, if Arthur really liked that Lily girl, it never would have been your turn to be our daughter-in-law.” “It’s not that I dislike you, but you’re just petty and short-sighted. If you had just tolerated it back then, Arthur wouldn’t have been fired. He’d still be easily collecting his monthly bonuses, and he wouldn’t have to work as hard as he does now.” His mother dramatically picked up her phone and sighed. “Mia, our Arthur is so outstanding, it’s normal for him to have women throwing themselves at him outside. You need to hurry up and give him a son to tie him down, or you’ll be the one crying later!” Saying that, she shoved the phone in my face. It was Arthur’s Instagram post from last night after he left. In the photo, he was holding Lily tightly, wiping away her tears, his face full of tenderness. Chapter 5 [Traveled a thousand miles, just to see you one last time.] I opened my own phone, but I didn’t see Arthur’s post. That was when I realized he had blocked me from seeing it. I called him several times in a row, but he rejected every single one. Hanging up after the last attempt, I asked softly, “Are you sure he went to see Lily?” His mother looked incredibly smug. Right in front of me, she used her own phone to call Arthur. He answered instantly. “Mom, what’s wrong?” His mother said gently, “Son, where are you? Did you fight with Mia again?” Over the phone, Arthur’s flat tone seemed to carry a hint of disdain. “Not really a fight, it’s just her acting crazy again. Probably has too much free time sitting at home.” “I’m in Seattle right now. Mom, don’t tell Mia. I’ll be back as soon as I see Lily one last time.” The call ended in less than a minute. So, he really did rush over there overnight. It felt like a huge piece of my heart had been hollowed out, but strangely, I felt a sense of relief. Seeing I had no reaction, his mother tsked. “Hear that? Arthur is always complaining to me about how dull and stupid you are, only knowing how to fight with him every day. If it weren’t for the kid, he wouldn’t even want to stay with you!” “I think this Lily girl isn’t bad. I heard her parents were teachers. She’s more than good enough for my Arthur. Not like some people, an orphan with no parents, probably a jinx!” “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. If someone likes rotten goods, then give it to them.” After calmly firing back that sentence, I picked up my daughter and left without looking back, leaving his parents cursing behind me. I knew they didn’t like me, so after marrying Arthur, I constantly tolerated them. But there was no need for that anymore. Since Arthur wasn’t in town, I would go find him myself. I went to a law firm, got a divorce agreement drawn up, and then hailed a cab to Seattle. Following the photo his mother showed me, I went straight to the hotel where they were meeting. In the grand ballroom, Lily, wearing a wedding dress, was about to exchange rings with the groom. Arthur watched from the audience, looking like half his soul had been sucked out of him. With deep affection and restraint, he said, “Lily, you have to be happy.” Lily’s eyes turned red. One on stage, one off stage. They looked exactly like star-crossed lovers being violently torn apart. I walked into the ballroom from the lobby, stood right in front of Arthur, and raised my voice. “Since you and Lily are so deeply in love, I’ll grant your wish!” “Arthur, let’s get a divorce!” The moment the words left my mouth, the entire ballroom went dead silent. Several people in the know pointed at Lily, whispering. “The bride had an affair with that guy. It was a huge scandal.” “What affair?! She rented a hotel room with a married man and got caught by his wife!” “Oh my god, is the wife you’re talking about her?!” Lily stiffened completely, her face turning ghastly pale. Arthur clearly didn’t expect me to chase him to Seattle. His expression turned terrifyingly dark. “Why are you here? Did you track me?!” Ignoring the inquiring stares of the entire room, he walked quickly toward me and scolded in a low voice, “Mia, this is not the place for you to throw a tantrum!” “Go back home right now!” I pulled out the divorce agreement and said pleasantly, “Sure. Sign this, and I promise I’ll never appear in front of you and Lily ever again.” The veins on Arthur’s temples bulged. “Mia, how many times do I have to tell you?! I am not divorcing you!” “Do you realize that your little stunt is ruining Lily’s wedding?!”

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Three years after severing all ties with my parents, they sued me in court. They demanded I pay them alimony for the next thirty years. They weren’t suing me because they needed the money. They just wanted to give their adopted daughter, who had just started at my mother’s law firm, a high-profile case to make a name for herself. They knew I was in poor health. Because my father, a hospital director, had personally removed my right kidney and transplanted it into their adopted daughter. Shutterstock Khám phá They knew my reputation was ruined. Because my mother, a prominent lawyer, had set me up to take the fall for their adopted daughter and sent me to prison. But they still did it. Because one wanted to avoid the appearance of nepotism, and the other wanted to repay a life debt. In the end, the court ordered me to immediately pay three hundred thousand dollars. Exactly the amount I had managed to save up for my own life-saving surgery. Outside the courthouse, my parents lifted their chins and said: “Daughter, as long as you live in this world, don’t even think about escaping your parents.” I thought they were absolutely right. So, when the System appeared, told me I had terminal kidney cancer and no money for treatment, and asked if I wanted to transmigrate to another world… I agreed immediately. When the System first appeared, I was desperately working to save money for a kidney transplant. I hauled bricks at a construction site during the day, worked the assembly line at night, and delivered food on weekends. It was grueling, but the money added up fast. So, I refused to leave. I chose to stay in this world, because I still had hope, and I still had attachments. But right after I finally saved enough money and was preparing to travel out of state for the transplant, the police dragged me to court. Now, the kidney donor was gone, and the money was gone. My attachments had personally destroyed my hope. The freezing wind outside the courthouse hit me. I shivered and asked the System through chattering teeth: “Is your offer still valid? As long as my physical body dies, I can go to another world?” Upon receiving confirmation, I started looking around for an opportunity. Just then, a warm thermos brushed against my hand. “Drink some.” I didn’t answer. I tried to step around her and leave. My mother grabbed my wrist tightly. I looked down at her pale, gripping fingers. It was strange. The embrace I used to crave so deeply now just felt like a foreign object clinging to my skin. It made my skin crawl. “Let go,” I said. She didn’t let go. Instead, she took a step closer. “I said, let go.” I used a little force and yanked my hand back. Then, I wiped the spot she had touched against her expensive cashmere coat. She froze, looking as if she couldn’t believe I would do something so blatantly disrespectful. Just as I was about to leave, a burst of laughter came from a short distance away. I looked up. My father was smiling, holding his adopted daughter, Chloe’s, hand as they got into a car. He didn’t even glance in my direction. Chloe was holding the lid to the thermos. I looked down. Sure enough, the thermos had Chloe’s name engraved on it. She was using someone else’s leftover tea to offer me cheap charity. I slapped the thermos out of her hand, sending it clattering to the pavement. Actually, when the verdict was read, I had wanted to scream at them: “I have terminal kidney cancer! That three hundred thousand dollars is my life-saving surgery fund!” I wanted to see if they would show even a sliver of remorse. But before I could approach them, the wind carried their conversation to me. “…This three hundred thousand is perfect. Isn’t this exactly the amount Liam asked for the dowry?” “Don’t worry, Chloe. Mom and Dad will definitely make sure you have a grand, beautiful wedding with Liam.” Liam. That name stabbed into my heart like a knife. He was my boyfriend. I had loved him for ten years. And my sister was using my life-saving surgery fund as a dowry to marry him. The words died in my throat, swallowed down along with the metallic taste of blood. Now, I was glad I hadn’t asked. It was laughable. Why did I even have that impulse in the first place? Staring at the dented thermos on the ground, my mother’s jaw tightened. “Are you done throwing your tantrum?” “Come home with me. You’ve run wild for three years, it’s time to settle down.” I looked at her. Once upon a time, that expression and that tone of voice would send chills down my spine and force me into immediate submission. Now, she just sounded like a villain delivering a cheesy line in a soap opera. I even let out a soft laugh: “Mom, aren’t you afraid Chloe will get jealous if you show me so much concern?” “The last time you ‘showed concern’ about my bar exam, she got jealous, went drag racing, and killed someone. You two dragged me to the scene and made me take the fall.” “What do you need me to take the fall for this time?” Since I was a child, she had favored Chloe countless times. Simply because Chloe’s parents died saving her life. But I never expected she would actually send me to prison to protect Chloe. She avoided my gaze, her lips moving slightly: “The past is in the past… don’t bring it up.” “You know her parents saved my life…” “Come home. I’ll cook for you myself to make it up to you.” My eyes turned entirely cold. I stared directly into hers: “I wouldn’t dare eat your cooking.” “The last time I did, I woke up missing my right kidney.” She swayed slightly and instinctively reached out to grab me again. I stepped back rapidly. The day I was released from prison, I was still completely in the dark. I had no idea it was my own parents who got me drunk and dumped me at the scene of the accident to take the fall. She specifically cooked a huge meal, saying it was to welcome me home. Back then, I was so stupid and so desperate. I thought I was finally going to feel the warmth of my family again. I took the bowl of soup she handed me and drank it, moved to tears. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed with agonizing pain in my abdomen. My right kidney was gone. Through the wall from the VIP suite next door, I heard them laughing. My father was constantly comforting Chloe: “Don’t worry about the legality of the organ source. I already forged a voluntary donation consent form.” “Outsiders will only be moved. They’ll say I’m such a selfless hospital director that I’m willing to sacrifice my own biological daughter’s kidney to save my adopted one.” I wanted to rush over and confront them, but the pain was so severe I rolled off the bed and curled up on the floor. My mother came out of the adjacent room and saw me. Her footsteps paused for exactly one second. Then, with a complicated expression, she averted her eyes and walked away. So why, standing in front of me now, was she refusing to let me go? “Maya, Chloe was dying back then…” “Enough!” I was so sick of this excuse. Every time they sacrificed me, it was always the same logic: “We had no choice,” “She’s more pitiful.” I stopped looking at her and asked the System in my mind: “System, if I go to another world, will I have parents who actually love me?” Receiving a positive confirmation, I walked quickly toward the busy road outside the courthouse. My mother took a step forward and grabbed my arm: “Maya! What are you acting out for now?!” I violently shook her off. And without hesitation, I lunged toward an oncoming delivery truck. “MAYA!!!” I ran with all my might, closing my eyes and anticipating my new life. Amidst the screeching of tires, a powerful force yanked me backward. I crashed into someone’s chest. Then I was pinned hard against the asphalt. I opened my eyes. The truck had stopped exactly where I had been standing a second ago. I didn’t die. Frustration surged in my chest. My mother’s arms were locked around me, frantically patting me down: “Maya! Are you okay?! Did you get hurt?! Say something!” I lay limp on the ground, refusing to utter a single word. She suddenly grabbed me by the collar of my shirt: “Maya! What the hell were you trying to do?!” Her voice was shrill, a mix of terror and pure fury: “Using suicide to threaten your parents? Do you think this will chase Chloe away and get you what you want?” “Let me tell you right now, it’s impossible!” Looking at her flushed, agitated face, I just felt exhausted. In her eyes, everything I did was a calculated move to compete with Chloe. I couldn’t be bothered to explain. I reached up and pried her fingers off my collar. “Let go.” “Look at me!” She shoved her bleeding elbow directly into my line of sight, her voice trembling. “I got hurt like this trying to save you! Do you feel absolutely nothing?!” “Maya, do you even have a heart?” Ah, emotional blackmail again. This used to be her favorite tactic. She would constantly remind me how hard she worked, how difficult it was to fight her way up in a male-dominated field. And I would always soften and obey. I would swallow all my grievances and silently accept their blatant favoritism toward Chloe. But now, looking at her bleeding elbow, my heart was a barren wasteland. I even swatted her hand away in disgust: “Your blood is getting on my clothes.” She froze, looking at me with profound hurt. I couldn’t help but scoff. What did she have to be hurt about? All those years, when she turned a blind eye to the agony she inflicted on me, where was her heart? Now that I was simply treating her the way she treated me, she suddenly couldn’t handle it? I shook her off and stood up. I brushed off the collar she had grabbed. “Don’t follow me. We have nothing to do with each other anymore.” “Nothing to do with each other?!” She staggered to her feet: “Maya! I am your mother!” I stopped walking and smirked: “Didn’t you publicly sever all ties with me a long time ago?” “What, did the great lawyer forget?” It was at the banquet celebrating Chloe’s successful kidney transplant. Chloe had had too much to drink. She walked over with her wine glass to “thank” me. In her drunken rambling, she let it slip that after the fatal car crash years ago, it was my mother who had gotten me drunk and dumped me at the scene to take the fall. I served five years in prison. An elite law student who graduated top of my class at Yale, reduced to a convicted felon. I had broken down and confronted my mother right then and there. Without batting an eye, she told the entire banquet hall that my time in prison had caused me to develop severe mental issues. In that moment, every ounce of suppressed grievance and rage I had carried my entire life detonated. I flipped the table and screamed at the top of my lungs about how she had favored Chloe since childhood, and how she had constantly sacrificed me. Humiliated in front of everyone, she pointed a shaking finger at me and said with absolute ice in her voice: “Fine! Since you hate me so much, I’ll pretend I never gave birth to you!” “From this day forward, whether you live or die has absolutely nothing to do with this family!” She was the one who said those exact words. I looked at her angry face now and said, word by word: “Since you severed ties, what right do you have to care if I live or die?” With that, I turned to leave. After a long silence, her voice rang out again: “No matter what you say, you are my only biological daughter! You are the heiress of the Sterling family!” “Am I?” I sneered. She flinched. As if she suddenly remembered that the official, recognized heiress of the Sterling family was Chloe. She was the one who personally brought Chloe into her law firm and publicly cemented her status. While I, the biological daughter, was just a disgraced ex-con. My laughter grew louder, but tears rolled down my cheeks without warning. I used to not be able to understand it. How did the parents who used to hold me on their laps to teach me how to read, the parents who were so proud of me, turn into strangers who desperately favored an outsider? After countless sleepless nights, I finally figured it out: One was an obsessive fanatic, weaponizing the law to force the entire family to repay a life debt. The other was a hypocritical narcissist, willing to sacrifice anything to protect his reputation as a noble hospital director. In the face of “gratitude” and “reputation,” I was always dead last. Without another word, she forcefully dragged me toward a taxi, keeping her head down: “Maya, stop causing a scene. Today is Chloe and Liam’s wedding. Come with me.” “Once Chloe is married, my debt is fully repaid. Then I’ll make everything up to you.” I had heard those words my entire life. “Once your sister’s competition is over, Mom will take you to the amusement park.” “Once Chloe gets into college, Mom will definitely make it up to you.” Every promise was like a soap bubble—popping the second you touched it. I wanted to break free, but a sudden spike of cancer pain hit my kidney. I lost all my strength and was shoved into the back of the taxi. The car smelled like blood. Her arm was continuously bleeding, and cold sweat beaded on her forehead. But she maintained a death grip on my wrist, terrified I would run again. “Let go.” My voice was entirely devoid of emotion. Instead of letting go, she gripped tighter, her nails practically digging into my flesh. “Maya, there’s no need to compete with Chloe… Didn’t you always want to be a lawyer? You can join my firm.” I smirked, a completely humorless smile curling my lips: “What about Chloe? Didn’t she already join your firm?” Her grip loosened for a fraction of a second: “Chloe… she’s called me Mom for so many years… the firm… will definitely be handed over to her eventually.” She paused, lowering her voice: “…You have a criminal record. You can’t practice law independently.” “You can work under Chloe as her paralegal. You’ll still have access to all the firm’s resources.” “If you sisters work together, the family business will be secure. It’s time for you to be mature about this.” I leaned against the window, waves of agonizing pain radiating from my kidney. But even sharper than the pain was the sickening absurdity of it all. They used my kidney to save Chloe. They used my future to cover up her crimes. And now, they wanted to use the rest of my life as a stepping stone for her career. In her dreams! I reached forward and violently yanked the emergency handbrake! “Maya! Are you insane?!” The tires locked instantly. Like a wild horse, the taxi spun out of control, fishtailing across the lanes! With a deafening CRASH, we slammed into the concrete median. A violent shockwave ripped through my body, and the world spun. I had intentionally unbuckled my seatbelt, waiting for death. But the deploying airbags absorbed most of the impact. After the initial dizziness faded, I was still fully conscious. I immediately reached for the door handle. Outside was a stream of speeding cars. I still had a chance! “Maya!!” My mother lunged across the backseat and locked her arms around me. “Do you hate me that much?!” Her eyes were bloodshot, her voice hoarse. “Hate me enough… to drag me down to hell with you?!” I offered a dismissive half-smile: “Hate? Not worth the energy.” “I just want to take a different path.” “If you insist on following me, you bear the consequences.” In an instant, the last remaining color drained from her face. But she still held onto me with a death grip, half-dragging, half-carrying me out of the wrecked car and into another passing taxi. We arrived at the wedding venue. My mother took a deep breath and pushed the doors open. Under the crystal chandeliers, my father was patting Chloe on the shoulder, smiling with immense pride. It was a look I had never, ever received from him. Chloe bowed slightly, the picture of humility. Liam stood beside her in a sharp tuxedo, looking at her tenderly, reaching down to adjust the train of her dress. The three of them stood together—a picture of absolute harmony and success. With Liam’s adoration, my parents’ unwavering backing, and me acting as her stepping stone, Chloe truly was the ultimate winner in life. Before anyone could see, I hastily wiped away my tears. Chloe was the first to notice us. Seeing the injuries on my mother’s face and arm, she rushed over: “Mom! What happened?!” She supported my mother, carefully avoiding the wounds, before shooting me an icy glare: “Did Maya do something to you again?! Did she—” “Chloe!” my mother interrupted sharply. “It has nothing to do with her! I fell.” She caught her breath: “You’re a lawyer. You need evidence before you speak. You can’t just falsely accuse people.” A flash of embarrassment crossed Chloe’s face. I also gave my mother a surprised look. The woman who spearheaded fabricating evidence to frame me was actually lecturing someone about false accusations. Liam walked over and linked arms with Chloe, his voice gentle: “Chloe was just worried about you, Mom. Please don’t blame her.” He looked at me. His tone remained light, but every word was a calculated stab: “Some people are miserable in their own lives, so they can’t stand seeing others happy. They always want to cause chaos in the family.” “Compared to Chloe… some people are just trash in the gutter.” His handsome features were exactly the same as they were ten years ago. Back then, he was huddled under a bridge, like a pathetic stray cat, his eyes the only thing burning bright. I brought him home, enduring months of my mother screaming at me: “You bring every dirty, smelly stray into this house!” To pay for his schooling, I skipped breakfast and snuck off to haul bricks at construction sites. I didn’t even dare tell anyone when my arm was slashed open by rebar. I saved up for months to buy a pair of plain silver rings. I slipped the smaller one onto his finger and told him I would marry him when I made something of myself. He nodded emphatically, his eyes shining like stars. During my two years in prison, he came to visit me rain or shine, telling me he would wait for me. He was the only light left in my world. But the day my mother publicly severed ties with me, I received a text from him: “We’re breaking up. The baby is gone.” And just like that, he took his place beside Chloe. Using the most contemptuous words imaginable to grind me into the dirt. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. Smack! The surrounding area instantly went quiet. Liam covered his cheek, his eyes wide in disbelief: “You dare hit me?” I shook out my stinging hand: “You had a filthy mouth. You deserved to be hit.” He had never seen me act like this. Stunned, he covered his face and looked at Chloe, not daring to say another word. “Maya!” Chloe stepped forward, pointing her finger in my face. “Are you done?! Do you know where you are? How dare you hit someone here?! Apologize!” I saw it then. On the hand she was pointing at me was the plain silver ring that was supposed to be mine. Years of suppressed rage obliterated my remaining reason. I drove my fist directly into her face. I was going to smash her hypocritical mask! Caught completely off guard, Chloe stumbled backward, crashing into the champagne tower. Glass shattered everywhere. Before I could even process the satisfaction of revenge, blinding pain exploded across the side of my face. My father had punched me to the floor. Spittle flew from his mouth as he roared: “You ungrateful wretch! Look at yourself! You’re an absolute disgrace! Is fighting the only thing you know how to do?!” He pointed down at me, his face twisted in utter disgust: “Look at you, looking like you’re half-dead! You’re a walking curse!”

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