1 Visiting a home to buy back pre-owned designer bags, I unexpectedly ran into my ex-husband’s current wife. Who was also my older sister, Sienna Hayes. Calmly, I put on my gloves, inspected the bags for wear and tear, then looked up and politely asked her, “Are all these bags for sale?” Seeing me, she froze. Tears immediately welled in her eyes. “Eliza, are you doing so badly? Why are you doing this?” “Are you… still mad at me?” When she started to cry, I knew, without a doubt, that Adam Breaux was already standing behind me. It had always been this way. Wherever Adam Breaux was, she would innocently shed tears. Then, with a few well-placed words, she would twist the situation, making me the aggressor. Her methods were as clumsy as ever. Yet, they consistently managed to blind Adam Breaux. Now, I turned back with an indifferent expression. My eyes met Adam Breaux’s. I was the first to nod. “Hello, Adam.” Once, he was the man who governed my every breath, who caused me unbearable pain. Now, meeting again, I felt no ripples. … A look of intense astonishment flashed in Adam Breaux’s eyes. “Eliza…” “Where have you been all these years?” “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” I offered a dismissive half-smile. “What right do you have to look for me?” His gaze darkened. “Eliza Bennett, what do you mean I have no right? Our sixteen years of shared history…” I found it amusing. “What history?” “As your ex-wife? Or your sister-in-law?” His body stiffened. I had no desire to reminisce with him. I turned back. The high-quality bags felt warm in my hands. Many of these bags, during my marriage to Adam Breaux, he had secretly bought for Sienna Hayes behind my back. I still vividly remembered the first time I stumbled upon her and Adam Breaux’s apartment. In the apartment’s living room, an exquisite display cabinet showcased designer bags. It perfectly recreated the dream she often spoke of in her youth: “My future husband will definitely be rich. He’ll make me an entire wall just for my bags!” That time, my “catching them in the act” didn’t faze Sienna Hayes at all. Instead, she gave me a provocative smile. “Pretty, aren’t they?” “Adam bought every single one of these bags for me himself, from abroad.” “Poor Eliza. The moment I bat my eyelashes and shed a tear, your husband can’t help but feel sorry for me.” “Do you really think there’s still a place for you in his heart?” Five years passed. Sienna Hayes had become Adam Breaux’s legitimate wife. That wall of bags had moved from the clandestine mistress’s apartment to their openly shared home. I quietly looked at these bags that had once driven me to madness. No emotion stirred within me. I calmly pulled out my phone to calculate the price. “For these bags, the second-hand resale price is a total of ten thousand three hundred dollars.” “If you’re planning to sell, my prices here are very competitive.” Adam Breaux looked at my tools, his shock even greater. “Eliza, you don’t play the piano anymore?” I sighed. My time was valuable. “If you’re not selling, I’ll be leaving now.” I wanted to leave their house as quickly as possible, but suddenly, he grabbed my hand. “Don’t be like that, I’m just worried about you…” When he touched my two deformed fingers, Adam Breaux’s pupils constricted. “Your hand, how could it be…” This pair of piano hands, which had once won countless trophies, was long ruined. It happened during the 36 hours when he locked me in the villa to be with Sienna Hayes, who was awaiting childbirth. I missed the optimal window for treatment. “Indeed.” “I haven’t played the piano in a long time.” “After all, I had three bone-setting surgeries and two years of physical therapy.” Being able to grasp and lift objects normally was a blessing. I said goodbye, distantly yet politely. As I stepped outside the apartment, those two people came chasing after me again. Adam Breaux anxiously blocked my path. “Where are you going? I’ll drive you.” Sienna Hayes’s face had already turned ashen. Yet, she still managed a strained, pitying smile. “Let Adam drive you. “Eliza, I was going to donate these bags to charity… but I can’t bear to see you struggling so much, so I’ll give them to you. Consider it a boost for your business.” I smiled. “You don’t need to give me bags. Adam doesn’t need to drive me either.” “After all, we’re not that close.” “And I certainly don’t want to be involved with a married woman in any way.” Back at the shop, the two young female assistants were scrolling through social media. “Mr. Breaux and Miss Hayes are trending again, they’re such an attractive couple.” “Mr. Breaux is a model husband. I heard that because his wife was once bullied by her own sister, he specifically established a foundation to protect against domestic bullying!” “This time, Mr. Breaux’s beloved is even planning to donate half of her designer bags, calling for more attention to domestic violence incidents.” “They’re such a perfect match, a beautiful and kind-hearted couple!” I chuckled. So, they were now seen as a philanthropic couple, actively involved in domestic violence cases. All these years later. He still believed Sienna Hayes was the one being bullied. Adam Breaux was the man I chose for myself. I was once utterly convinced we would spend our lives together. But in the year I loved him most, he ended up in the same bed as the person I hated most in this life. When I arrived at the scene, the messy, intimate room, and two naked, entangled bodies made my stomach churn. When I clearly saw the woman’s face, which bore an eight-point resemblance to my own, my world went silent. It was my older sister. Sienna Hayes. Adam Breaux was my neighbor. He witnessed my long childhood, marked by abuse from Sienna and my stepmother. On many nights, I was driven out of the house because of Sienna Hayes’s false accusations. It was Adam Breaux who wrapped a thick coat around me. The time Sienna Hayes’s pen pierced my eardrum, it was Adam Breaux who kicked open my door first, scooped me up, and rushed me to the hospital. “Eliza, hold on!!” “Eliza, don’t be afraid. I’m here. Sienna Hayes can’t hurt you.” He knew perfectly well how much I hated Sienna Hayes, and now… I lost control, rushing forward and slapping Sienna Hayes twice. “Sienna Hayes!!” “You’ve never wished me well, since we were children. Now you’ve even climbed into my husband’s bed! Why are you always haunting me??” The third slap didn’t land. My hand was seized by a crimson-eyed Adam Breaux. He urgently embraced me, his voice trembling. “Eliza, I’m so sorry, I was drugged… I mistook her for you.” “It’s all my fault, all my fault…” Sienna Hayes shivered, wrapping herself up, her eyes misty with tears. “Eliza, you’ve misunderstood me again… How could I do anything to betray you…” Looking at her habitual expression of feigned helplessness, my vision swam. … Before I could react to the absurdity of it all, I fainted. For a long time after I woke up, Adam Breaux begged for my forgiveness every day. He repeatedly presented me with evidence that he had been set up. “Eliza, no matter how much of a scoundrel I am, I would never be with Sienna Hayes. Please believe me, okay?” I tried to convince myself it was an accident. To let it go. But just as our rift was beginning to heal with time, Sienna Hayes updated her social media. It was a blurry photo, her nestled in a man’s arms at dusk. Caption: “Thank you for spending New Year’s Eve with me.” The man’s cufflink gleamed under the light. It was the ten-year anniversary gift I had given Adam Breaux. My blood rushed to my head in an instant. This was the fifth day of Adam Breaux’s supposed business trip. He had only left me a hasty message: “Eliza, decided last minute to stay an extra day. Don’t wait for me for dinner.” He went to be with Sienna Hayes. They had never broken contact. This fact hit me like a sledgehammer, knocking me senseless. By the time I arrived in the city, it was almost midnight. I staggered towards the Great Harbor Bridge. Fireworks instantly burst into the sky. The next second, in the flickering light, the scene of the two of them watching fireworks together, nestled close, unexpectedly crashed into my vision— “Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” Sienna Hayes looked at Adam Breaux, her eyes crinkling in a smile. “Will this be its first New Year’s Eve?” I felt a momentary ringing in my ears. What boy or girl? Who was ‘it’? My body reacted faster than my brain. I rushed forward and slapped Adam Breaux hard, then grabbed Sienna Hayes’s hair. “You bitch! You still claim to be innocent?!” In that chaotic moment, Adam Breaux quickly shielded Sienna Hayes in his arms. He gripped my wrist, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark and heavy. His grip was so strong it felt like my bones would shatter. “What are you doing!? Sienna is pregnant!! What’s wrong with you?” I looked at him in disbelief, tears streaming down my face. “Her pregnancy, what does it have to do with you?” “Adam Breaux, who is your wife?!” Only then did he release me, as if waking from a dream. But from beginning to end, he held Sienna Hayes tightly in his arms. “Eliza, don’t be impulsive! Listen to me.” “Sienna is pregnant because of that accident… she’s carrying my child.” “The doctor said her constitution is special, if she doesn’t carry this child to term, she might never be able to get pregnant again! She was frantic, didn’t know what to do, that’s why she came to me.” “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d overthink it…” Sienna Hayes’s face was streaked with two lines of tears, all too familiar to me. “Eliza, Mom and Dad want me to get rid of my baby.” “Please, please let me stay, let me have my baby, okay?” “I won’t disturb you two, I just want my own child…” My head buzzed. All my sharp edges were roused in that instant. “Sienna Hayes, you’re lying again!! What do you mean you won’t be able to get pregnant if you abort the baby? Do you think anyone believes you? Do you dare to go to the hospital with me for an examination?” Her eyes were misty with tears. “Eliza, why do you always have to be so extreme? Sister doesn’t want to ruin your happiness! Sister just wants to have her own child.” Adam Breaux’s face, meanwhile, hardened inch by inch. “Eliza, do you really have to speak of your own sister like that?” “Your sister is also a victim. I’m the one who wronged her. Do you have to be so aggressive?” “How can you be so cold-blooded?” The Adam Breaux of ten years ago and the man before me now, split and overlapped in my vision. The boy who would share his earphones with me on winter nights. Now looked at me with an indifference I had never seen before. I remembered that New Year, when I was seventeen. My piano teacher, who was in charge of my intensive training, gave me a day off. I took a four-hour bus ride, holding a cake box I had ordered with three months of pocket money, and stood at my front door. The fingerprint lock beeped an error. Once, twice, thrice. I called my father. In the background, the cold female voice of an airport announcement mixed with Sienna Hayes’s clear laughter. “Dad! Look! Snow-capped mountains!” My father’s voice was distant and impatient. “Why aren’t you practicing piano at school? What are you doing home? We’re with Sienna, skiing in Switzerland. You should go back.” The busy signal as he hung up pierced my eardrum like a needle. I didn’t know when the sky had completely darkened. I only remembered my fingers freezing numb, and the ribbon on the cake box flapping loudly in the wind. Then, a beam of headlights cut through the darkness. Adam Breaux jumped out of the car, his breath condensing into white mist in the cold air. He saw the melted cake at my feet, and his movements paused. Then he grabbed my frozen hands, and without a word, tucked them inside his sweater, pressing them against his warm chest. “Are you foolish?” “Couldn’t you call me?” My lips trembled, unable to make a sound. He took off his left earbud and gently placed it in my ear. “Eliza Bennett, look up.” I raised my tear-filled eyes. Firelight danced in his pupils, his face impossibly handsome in the interplay of light and shadow. “Don’t cry.” “Happy New Year.” “Trust me.” “I’ll definitely get you out of here. To a place without biased parents, without Sienna Hayes, without nightmares.” “Every year, I’ll be the first to wish you a Happy New Year.” At that moment, for the first time in my seventeen years of bleak existence, I saw light. The earphone hummed with a faint current, the song flowing like warm water into my frozen veins. “If the whole world speaks ill of you, I will whisper words of love for an eternity.” The moment the lyrics played, my tears fell onto his hand. The flutter in my heart then was beyond words. But ten years later, at the very first moment of the New Year, he held Sienna Hayes close. And called me a cold-blooded animal. After that day, I accepted an invitation for a concert tour abroad. I packed my bags overnight and left the country. For three months, I didn’t answer any of his calls. I didn’t know how to face his change. “Eliza, where are you? Don’t scare me.” “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have left you without a word.” “Eliza Bennett, I was ready to love you for a lifetime when I was sixteen. But I’m not a saint. I’m bound to make mistakes.” “Are you really going to completely shut down our future?” And his friends’ pleas also urged me: “Adam did make a mistake, but in his situation, let alone mistaking someone for you, even if he had genuinely slept with a stranger, wouldn’t it be understandable?” “Eliza, don’t be so stubborn. Adam protected you for so many years, with all his heart. Are you going to condemn him to death for one mistake?” “Isn’t Adam’s kindness also for your sake?” “If your sister really can’t get pregnant later, and you make her abort this child, what if she holds a grudge against you?” Gradually, I began to wonder if I was the one who was wrong. Perhaps I truly was too extreme. And I had to admit, I was too accustomed to Adam Breaux’s presence. I missed our old conversations, and even more, I missed… him. I composed myself and flew back home. During the seventeen-hour flight, I practiced smiling into the cabin window. Hoping to reconcile as soon as I saw Adam Breaux. But when I returned home, unexpectedly, no one was there. I turned to get the spare key from my car, and pulled open the door. The sweet scent of camellias, Sienna Hayes’s usual perfume, wafted out. On the passenger seat, my gray wool seat cover was gone. In its place was a thick, antique red lumbar support cushion, its edges embroidered with delicate patterns. The side storage pocket was filled with pregnant-woman-specific snacks: Japanese dried plums, organic nuts, sugar-free yogurt sticks… What did this mean? They… were living together? Anger once again consumed me. I sought them everywhere, finally finding the two of them in the hospital. But I saw Adam Breaux, with one leg injured, pale and leaning against the headboard. And Sienna Hayes, showing early signs of pregnancy, busily wiping his sweat. My heart suddenly leaped into my throat. “Adam, what happened to you?” Sienna Hayes, after a momentary stiffness, quickly adopted her most practiced pitiful expression. “Eliza…” she stood up, instinctively shielding her stomach. “You’re finally back…” “After you ran away, Adam was distracted every day. Last month, he was hit by a car.” “Eliza, Adam’s eyes and heart are full of you. All the mistakes… are my fault, please don’t blame him anymore.” Adam Breaux looked at me, his eyes red-rimmed, saying nothing. Seeing his disappointed gaze and his high-slung leg, I compromised. Paying the price for my reckless departure. I accepted his cold shoulder without protest. I even agreed to Sienna Hayes’s request to live in our home. I didn’t know what had happened during the three months I was away. But amidst the absurd cohabitation of three people, I clearly sensed that Adam Breaux no longer loved me. Love, or the lack thereof, cannot be hidden. Those tiny changes were like shards of glass, scattered throughout every corner of my life. Sienna Hayes would caress her slightly bulging belly, her voice soft. “The gray tones in the house make me so depressed, my appetite isn’t good… Can we change it to a warm brown?” “Eliza’s piano is so beautiful, can I touch it? Just for a second.” She would frown, her gaze drifting to my favorite photo on the mantelpiece, “Strange, this wedding photo makes me dizzy…” I was almost driven to a breaking point by her. I didn’t like warm colors. And I wouldn’t allow anyone to touch my piano. And that wedding photo of Adam Breaux embracing me from behind on the black sand beach in Iceland was my most cherished picture. Yet, every time I tried to refuse, Adam Breaux would speak first. “No problem.” “Eliza, she’s pregnant, give her some leeway.” “It’s just changing some soft furnishings, don’t be so petty.” “Let’s put the photo away for now, a pregnant woman’s emotions are important.” So, the gray walls were covered with dark red wallpaper. My piano was moved to a corner, its lid piled high with her pregnancy magazines. The day my wedding photo disappeared, I found it in a cardboard box in the storage room, the glass cracked with a fine line. My home became Sienna Hayes’s showroom. Anxiety and resentment coiled around my heart like vines. I became someone even I disliked, paranoid and jumpy. And each time, Sienna Hayes perfectly stirred the waters. “Eliza, don’t misunderstand, Adam just wants to listen to the baby’s heartbeat…” “Alright, I won’t discuss baby names with him anymore, so you don’t overthink it.” Adam Breaux would then turn to look at me, his brow furrowed in an arc of weariness. “She’s your sister, and she’s carrying my child. Can’t you be more generous?” “Our sixteen years of affection, can’t that outweigh your suspicions?” He sighed, his gaze drifting past me to the window. “I’m very tired. Why can’t you… be as understanding as Sienna?” I became withdrawn and silent. Allowing their laughter and joy to fill my home. I thought that if I just endured this period, everything would end once Sienna Hayes had her baby. But I never expected her tricks, usually reserved for our parents, to be used on Adam Breaux. At six months, Sienna Hayes secretly ate the medium-rare steak I had cooked for myself. That night, the wail of an ambulance siren tore through the quiet of the neighborhood. Acute gastroenteritis, threatened premature labor. In the stark hospital corridor, Adam Breaux roared at me, his finger almost poking my nose: “Eliza Bennett! You know pregnant women can’t eat raw meat!” “She’s your sister! Are you trying to kill her and the baby?!” I stood frozen, chilled to the bone. “I never intended to cook it for her. That was for me to take to the office.” “She’s framing me again!!” Adam Breaux scoffed. “Always claiming to be framed! She’s six months pregnant!! What could she gain by framing you? Do you have a persecution complex?!” Not far away, Sienna Hayes winked provocatively at me. As if pressing her advantage, she became emotionally distraught, tears streaming down her face. “Eliza! When you were little, you hurt your eardrum playing around, and you blamed me!” “When you ran off with your boyfriend and missed an exam, you falsely accused me of locking you in!” “Even now! You deliberately fed me raw meat, even though Adam was home watching, and you still try to argue it!?” Sienna Hayes’s chest heaved with indignation. She was very convincing. Adam Breaux rushed back to her bedside, soothing Sienna Hayes as she gasped for breath. “Alright, don’t get upset.” “Be careful not to disturb the baby again.” When he looked up at me, his gaze had completely chilled, filled with intense disgust. “Leave. Don’t provoke your sister here any further.” A hysterical argument erupted once more. “Do you honestly believe I’m the one bullying her?!” “Adam Breaux, have you checked the security footage? Have you investigated? How can you be so certain…” My words were cut off by his impatient interruption. “Certain of what? For the few months Sienna’s been pregnant, you’ve been suspicious, wanting to watch her and me 24/7! What’s wrong with her just wanting her own child? What’s wrong with me providing some emotional support to a pregnant woman??” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Providing emotional support to a pregnant woman requires soaking her feet? Peeling shrimp for her? Attending every prenatal appointment with her?” His face went completely dark. “Eliza Bennett, you always see problems with other people. Have you ever considered that for Sienna Hayes, that’s also a stepmother! Why do people only target you? Why do they pamper Sienna?” “Why do you never look for reasons within yourself?” “I’ve never seen Sienna Hayes bully you! It’s all something you fabricated!” I stared at him in disbelief. I almost couldn’t stand. “Adam Breaux!! You don’t love me anymore, you’ve changed your mind, just say it! Why twist the facts and slander me?!” His expression shifted. Just as a look of guilt crossed his face, Sienna Hayes’s suppressed sobbing came from behind: “Don’t argue, both of you… it’s all my fault…” He rushed back to her bedside. The only thing left for me was his back. “Eliza, just go home for now. Don’t act crazy in front of a patient.” In that instant, my decade-long affection for Adam Breaux, in his indifferent gaze, faded away with the wind. Later, the two of them acted as if they held an unbreakable shield for those last few months. They completely dropped any pretense. Adam Breaux didn’t even bother to explain anything to me. The prized tickets to the Vienna Philharmonic New Year’s Concert, which I had cherished, were again used by him to take Sienna Hayes for prenatal music education. “Sienna says the baby has been moving a lot lately, and the doctor suggested listening to calming classical music.” “I’m taking her to listen. She’s having a tough pregnancy, she deserves to relax.” Sienna Hayes leaned against him, her fingers caressing her swollen abdomen, giving me a smile mixed with apology and superiority. “Eliza, you don’t mind, do you? Adam is just doing what’s best for the baby.” I opened my mouth, but found my throat clogged with something, unable to make any sound. That Berlin concert was playing my favorite, Brahms’s Fourth Symphony. Countless times in the dead of night, Adam Breaux and I would lean our heads together, sharing a single earphone to listen to this piece. When the second movement began, he would kiss my earlobe, “We must go hear it live someday, just the two of us.” Later, he did go to hear it live. Only it wasn’t with me, but with my sister. After that long half-month, they returned, the living room piled with shopping bags. Sienna Hayes looked remarkably well. Her skin had a honeyed glow from the European sun, and a delicate diamond pinky ring adorned her ring finger. Adam Breaux pulled out a shoddily packaged box of Mozart chocolate balls from the bottom of his luggage. “Eliza, I brought these for you.” He didn’t even look at me, instead bending down to massage Sienna Hayes’s slightly swollen calves. “Try them, they’re a specialty of Salzburg.” I stared at that box of chocolate balls, available at any airport. I remembered many years ago, when we were poor students and went to Shanghai for a concert for the first time. He clutched two student tickets, but after the show, he pulled out a small, ridiculously expensive box of Godiva, his eyes shining brightly. “Eliza, from now on, every time we go to a concert, I’ll buy you better chocolate.” My thoughts drifted back. Recalling that frantic, desperate past. Now, only a desolate calm remained in my heart. … “Eliza, do you know Mr. Breaux?” “He said he wanted to see you.” My thoughts returned to the present.

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“1 When I learned that the IVF embryo I carried was actually a mix of my husband’s and his mistress’s DNA, I didn’t react violently like before. Instead, I calmly carried it to term and gave birth. From then on, I became the talk of high society, feeding gossip columns. Millionaires envied Ethan for having such a “magnanimous” wife, mistresses prayed to trap him, and other wives saw me as a disgrace. Ten months later, I safely delivered the baby. As I left the delivery room, Ethan kissed my forehead gently. “Clara can’t handle pain and you’re infertile, so you were perfect to carry our child,” he said. “Don’t worry—she only wants to be a mother. Your status as Mrs. Sterling is safe. You’re still the one I love most.” Everyone thought I was too in love with Ethan to fight the mistress, so I went along. But only I knew the truth: this child was forced on me by the Sterling matriarch, who repaid a past favor. Now that the heir was born, the promised divorce agreement should finally take effect. … The anesthesia wore off, and the pain jolted me awake from unconsciousness. The moment my eyes opened, Ethan Sterling, beaming with joy, held the baby. “Darling, Grandma has already named our child. Just sign here, and he can be officially registered.” He handed me the birth certificate. Seeing the name Arthur Sterling, my groggy mind instantly cleared. Arthur. A name meaning “noble strength,” or perhaps for me, “to engrave the beginning.” It was the beautiful aspiration I held for my unborn biological son. It represented our hopes for love. And it was the name given to the thirteenth generation’s firstborn in the Sterling family lineage. To rescue Ethan Sterling from kidnappers years ago, I had taken a knife for him, injuring my body, making it impossible to conceive again. Later, our first IVF child was tragically lost due to a miscarriage from excessive bleeding after he pushed me, having caught him cheating on our marital bed with my stepsister, Clara Berthelsen. That had been a fully formed boy. After my recovery, I planned to erect a memorial for him, a cenotaph, to be placed in the family cemetery. But a fortune teller had said the child hadn’t reached full term, the timing wasn’t right, and it had to wait. That wait lasted over a year. During my current pregnancy, he had whispered in my ear countless times, wanting to give the name Arthur Sterling to this illegitimate child. I had always refused. But now, looking at his expectant eyes, I only felt disgust at my past tears and misery. I knew Grandma would never choose that name. It was just Clara Berthelsen, who loved to claim everything of mine, whispering in Ethan Sterling’s ear. Anyway, divorce was a certainty. I didn’t care for the name of a heartless father. “Whatever. Call him whatever you want.” “I only have one request: don’t list me as the child’s mother. My biological son in heaven wouldn’t be happy.” Ethan Sterling paused, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Elara, don’t worry, I’m only using her for half of your bloodline. Her and I…” Before he could finish, a loud crash suddenly came from outside the door. “You little hussy, who gave you permission to be here!” Clara Berthelsen fell to the ground, sobbing. “I just wanted to see the baby.” Grandma Sterling, leaning on her cane, repeatedly struck her. “Get out!” In that instant, Ethan Sterling was like a startled bird. Without even handing the baby to the nurse, he roughly tossed him onto me and rushed out. The freshly stitched incision ripped open under the pressure, and a searing pain made me cry out. But he seemed not to hear, leaving me. His unwavering action of shielding Clara Berthelsen, standing defiantly between her and Grandma’s cane, made his earlier comforting words to me seem utterly ridiculous. “Grandma! It was my idea, and I did it for the Sterling family! Don’t hurt innocent people!” Grandma Sterling paused, unconsciously looking at me. Seeing the white bedsheet stained with blood, she struck Ethan Sterling with her cane. “You beast! Her wound isn’t healed, how can she hold a baby!” Ethan Sterling’s eyes filled with panic and regret. He was about to rush over to me. But Clara Berthelsen suddenly collapsed behind him. He panicked, scooped her up, and started to leave. Grandma Sterling stood firmly in his path. “You’re not going anywhere! Your wife is still in there! Do you still want this family or not!” 2 Ethan Sterling’s eyes were filled with hesitation. “Yes! But she was hurt by you! I can’t abandon her! Elara… she’s with you, she’ll be fine!” Once upon a time, he shielded me from every storm. Once upon a time, he would never make me the one to be abandoned. I endured the pain and gave him a faint glance. “Grandma, let him go.” He seemed surprised by my magnanimity. After all, in the past, to keep him from leaving, I had thrown tantrums, rolled on the floor, abandoning all dignity. His eyes were complex. He wanted to say something, but in the end, he strode away. The nurse and maternity assistant helped me re-dress my wound. The baby was also settled to sleep. My phone suddenly pinged with a message from him. “I forgot about your wound, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to cause a scene in the hospital and affect the Sterling family’s reputation.” “Clara is unconscious and can’t be left alone, so I won’t be coming back for now. You rest well.” I stared at the screen for a long time, stunned. I remembered how he once, upon hearing I was injured in another city, flew for eleven hours, canceling all work just to be with me for a check-up, staying by my side every moment. Seeing me sigh, Grandma Sterling snatched my phone. She read the cold words on the screen and snorted. “That scoundrel! I’ll deal with him when he comes back. Elara, don’t worry, Grandma…” Hearing this, I suddenly chuckled, looking at her with calm eyes. “You condoned all of this, didn’t you?” “I no longer care what he does. You promised me that once I gave birth to this child, you would help me divorce. I hope you keep your word.” Her expression froze, her eyes filled with deep guilt. “Grandma is sorry.” “I’ve already tricked him into signing the divorce agreement. Rest peacefully for your thirty days of confinement, then you can leave.” Grandma kept the baby with her, personally arranging for his care. Meanwhile, I stayed at a maternity center under the guise of an early confinement, avoiding gossip. But that night, the scandal of the Sterling heir’s fury for his mistress, abandoning his wife after childbirth, and defying the matriarch to protect his sister-in-law, spread throughout the business circle. Sterling Group’s stock continued to plummet, leaving Ethan Sterling frantic. Clara Berthelsen’s social media influencer account was overrun by angry netizens. The past incident, when I had exposed her for seducing my husband only for Ethan Sterling to suppress it, was resurrected. The platform was filled with curses. If not for Ethan Sterling’s help, her account would likely have been deactivated, and she’d owe breach-of-contract fees. I didn’t see him again until seven days later. The first time he saw me, he looked at me with disappointment. “Elara Bennett, are you happy now, getting your revenge on us like this?” I paused, then quickly realized he was blaming me for the spread of the gossip. Of course. After all, I used to work in media, and I was an expert at fanning the flames. Unfortunately, the first time I, in a fit of madness, exposed his and Clara Berthelsen’s scandal, he blackmailed my company with claims of privacy invasion and defamation, forcing them to fire me. Now, finding someone to help would truly be difficult. I gave him a sidelong glance, no longer feeling the sting of being misunderstood. I continued to work on the anniversary gift I was knitting for Arthur. “You should know that your scandals aren’t just the ones visible on the surface. If I wanted to expose them, you’d probably suffer another major blow.” He stood at the doorway for a long time, stunned. He spoke, almost helplessly. “After this, I’ll break it off with her. But promise me, we’ll live our lives well together, okay? With a child, we’ll be a happy family.” He had spoken words like this almost every day during my pregnancy. Yet, it hadn’t stopped him from continuing to be entangled with Clara Berthelsen. He either felt pity for her status as an illegitimate child or believed she was lonely without family support. In short, he had a thousand reasons for his irresistible attraction to her and his desire to protect her every whim. He stood by the door, refusing to leave, as if he wouldn’t budge until I answered. Seeing him blocking the sunlight, I perfunctorily agreed. It wasn’t until the next morning, when explicit photos and videos of my alleged affair went viral online, that I understood what he meant by “after this.” Ethan Sterling released a clarification video. In the video, he tearfully told the media that I had spitefully spread false gossip about him because my sister had discovered my affair during pregnancy. 3 Clara Berthelsen, weeping profusely, claimed she had merely advised me not to hurt Ethan Sterling’s feelings, but I, believing she was about to expose my adultery, sought revenge. Everyone urged Ethan Sterling to divorce me, this “”loose woman,”” immediately. But he, instead, put on a show of deep affection. “No matter what mistakes Elara makes in this life, I cannot stop loving her.” Watching his hypocritical performance, I couldn’t help but throw up. Ethan Sterling, hearing this from outside the door, rushed in. “What’s wrong?” I frowned, looking at Clara Berthelsen who had followed him in, and pulled my hand away from his. “Nothing, just that you disgust me. To protect a mistress’s transgressions, you’d go to any length to defame your wife’s reputation. Ethan Sterling, your love is truly magnificent.” His face paled, and he opened his mouth to explain. But Clara Berthelsen suddenly knelt, weeping, her face streaked with tears. “I’m sorry, Elara. It’s all my fault! Julian only made you a scapegoat because of me.” Ethan Sterling instantly felt deeply pained, his eyes turning to me in a reproving gaze. “I came here to tell you about this. Those images were all AI-generated by me. Ultimately, she’s your sister, and it’s only right for you to sacrifice yourself to help her maintain family ties. Why do you have to be so aggressive towards her?” “Besides, you’re a housewife; reputation means nothing to you. What outsiders say won’t affect my feelings for you. It’s enough that I know it’s fake. But she’s different. She has no one to rely on and depends on the media for her livelihood. If her image and reputation are ruined, everything is over for her.” Listening to his high-sounding justifications, I felt nothing but disgust. Being a housewife was his doing, after all. Not only did he force the company to fire me, but he also spread the word throughout the media industry that anyone who hired me would be going against him. My interviews repeatedly hit dead ends. When I finally found a private studio, he maliciously reported us. Ultimately, all my media practitioner certificates were revoked, making me an outcast in the industry, scorned by everyone. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. The maternity nurse had said to keep a pleasant mood during confinement, and in any case, in another half a month, I would be completely free. Grandma also promised me that she would clear my name then. What they did no longer mattered. I looked at him expressionlessly, let out a long breath, and turned over into bed. “Do as you please. Whatever you want to do, do it.” He thought I was going to hit Clara Berthelsen as I had in the past, and he became incredibly nervous, standing firmly in front of her. But seeing me turn my back and lie down, all his emotions came to a halt. After a long moment, he asked me in a disbelieving tone, “You… you’re not angry?” My voice was flat. “Didn’t you always wish for me and her to get along harmoniously?” He sighed in relief and smiled. “You’ve finally learned. I knew you weren’t such a heartless person. I’ll definitely make it up to you later.” I didn’t reply, and I didn’t look at him until they left. After a long while, I touched my chest, feeling no stirrings. So this was what it felt like to let go. In the following days, perhaps out of guilt, he came to see me every few days. He was met with resistance and coldness but remained unperturbed, simply telling me about the wonderful life we would have together. It wasn’t until he brought up the baby’s one-month celebration that he spoke with difficulty. “Clara can never acknowledge her biological child in this life, so I was thinking, before the child is old enough to understand, she could openly attend the baby’s one-month party as his mother.” “It would complete her regret, don’t you think?” My knitting needles didn’t stop, and I didn’t even look up. “I told you, do as you please. This isn’t my child to begin with. Whatever you want to do has nothing to do with me.” He stiffened, his eyes reddening with a hint of anger. He snatched away the memorial items I was knitting for Arthur. “Why are you always like this these days! Do you know what her attending represents? It means implicitly acknowledging her as the mistress of the Sterling family. You used to be completely against it.” I paused, then looked at him with a bored expression. “Isn’t this good? Last month, when you two were in bed, didn’t you say it was a shame you couldn’t give her a proper status in this lifetime?” He stood there, frozen and pale like a statue. I retrieved my items, my emotions stable as if nothing had happened. His incessant, nauseating attempts to explain that he didn’t love her, that he was merely drugged and compelled to sleep with her, wanting to take responsibility, were defeated by my silence. 4 After that day, he didn’t come to see me again. But I often saw Clara Berthelsen posting pictures on her social media, showing them taking family portraits in various styles with the child. On the day I finished my confinement, the entire Sterling family was celebrating the illegitimate child’s one-month party. Grandma said the divorce papers would be finalized the next day. When I returned home to pack my things, our cozy marital bedroom had been completely redecorated to Clara Berthelsen’s taste. Even the photo of him cradling my pregnant belly, which used to sit by the living room TV, had been replaced with a family portrait of him, Clara Berthelsen, and the baby. In the photo, Ethan Sterling was smiling genuinely. Even more beautifully than the day he successfully confessed his love to me. I went back to the bedroom, intending to take some clothes I had before our marriage. But when I searched through the closet, I couldn’t find the purely handmade embroidered qipao my mother had personally sewn for me before she passed away. I was about to call to ask when I saw a photo on social media of Clara Berthelsen wearing it at the one-month party. A wave of fury boiled over. I hailed a cab and rushed to the banquet hall, watching her, arm-in-arm with Ethan Sterling, smiling and accepting everyone’s compliments. Seeing me, Ethan Sterling had a hint of guilt on his face, but also a predictable smugness. He released Clara Berthelsen and walked towards me. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist coming, but today is an important occasion for the child, don’t…” I didn’t give him a chance to finish. I rushed to Clara Berthelsen and slapped her across the face. “Remember your place as a mistress. Don’t be like your mother, that old hussy, always stealing other people’s things.” With that, I pulled out a pair of scissors and tore through the qipao she was wearing. With a ripping sound, accompanied by her piercing shriek, I shredded the dress. “If you have no clothes, go naked. This is a dress my mother made for me. You, a mistress, I’d rather destroy it than let you wear it!” The scene erupted into chaos. Grandma Sterling, usually so concerned with family reputation, uncharacteristically stood still, not intervening. Ethan Sterling threw a coat over Clara Berthelsen, glaring furiously at me. “How can you be so vicious? With so many people here, where will she put her face? It was just a borrowed dress. Do you really have to be so petty?” Seeing his inability to distinguish right from wrong, I sneered, and with a swift motion of my scissors, cut all the buttons off the couple’s formal shirt that my mother had made for him. “You forgot the vow you made to my mother, to be good to me for life. That’s alright, I won’t forget. Our relationship is like this gown now, severed and broken!” “I wish your family a hundred years of happiness.” With those words, I left amidst everyone’s shock. That one-month party ended badly. Clara Berthelsen, overcome with emotion, fainted, and Ethan Sterling took her to the hospital. Grandma Sterling presided over the rest of the banquet alone with the child. The next morning, I successfully obtained my divorce certificate. My phone still held a message from Ethan Sterling demanding an apology. I blocked and deleted him, then took my divorce certificate to the cemetery to visit my Arthur. Two weeks earlier, I had already arranged for a headstone to be placed for him. Looking at the words “Beloved Son Arthur Bennett,” my heart ached endlessly. I opened my mouth, about to say something. Ethan Sterling’s voice came from behind me. “I knew you’d come here. You always used to come see the child whenever you felt wronged. But yesterday, you went too far, in public…” Before he could finish, Clara Berthelsen gasped. “Julian, Elara actually named that child the same name as our child!” “Elara, no matter how much you dislike that child, you will always be his mother. Why would you use the same name to curse him to an early death?” Ethan Sterling frowned, stepping closer and seeing the name Arthur Bennett. His gaze swept down, seeing only “Mother Elara Bennett” listed as the monument setter, and no mention of him. The maternal surname filled him with a strange and uneasy feeling. But quickly, this uneasiness dissipated amidst Clara Berthelsen’s crying. He glared at me. “The child’s death is also a regret in my heart, but why did you act on your own? Are you trying to curse your own nephew to an early death?” “I haven’t even confronted you about shaming Clara in public yesterday. Do you think I love you so much that I’ll indulge your every whim?” “I’m giving you ten minutes. Immediately tell the cemetery to smash this headstone. I’ll reconsider a name and have a new one put up!” I coldly stared at this man who had once cried inconsolably after our son’s death. “What if I refuse?” He froze, looking at me in astonishment. After a long moment, his eyes filled with deep disappointment. He raised his hand, and three bodyguards emerged from a car. “Elara Bennett, he is my child, but Clara’s child is also my child. If you insist on doing this, then I will have no choice but to dig up his grave!” “I’m sure his spirit in heaven will not blame me, knowing it’s to protect his younger brother.” Even though I already knew his ugly face, hearing him threaten to dig up his own child’s grave for the sake of a mistress, for the sake of a name, my heart still ached. Seeing his confident expression, certain that I would back down for the sake of my child’s peace, I smiled. Calmly, I pulled out the divorce certificate from my bag and tossed it in front of him. “My apologies, Mr. Sterling. I don’t think you have the right to dictate what I name my child.” “Because an hour ago, we ceased to be husband and wife.” “

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My father had an affair. He even had a secret child, a son. Just like in my previous life, my mother, Eleanor Montgomery, fueled by pride and anger, walked out on him, taking me with her and leaving everything behind. I followed her into a life of poverty and hardship, eventually meeting a desolate, premature end. But I’m back, reborn. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I pushed her away. I chose my father. The double betrayal, from both me and my father, left my mother trembling with rage. She cursed me, called me an ungrateful wretch. “So what?” I’d spat back, the words laced with a venom born of past suffering. “I’m never going back to that miserable life with you!” … It was during my sophomore year of high school that my mother discovered my father’s infidelity. His secret son, Jeremy Reed, was already ten years old. The revelation shattered her. She insisted on a divorce, no matter what. My father, Richard Reed, however, refused, threatening that if she left, she’d take me and walk away with nothing. My mother was a proud woman. True to his word, she left him, taking nothing but me. She believed her self-sacrifice, her unwavering pride, would sting my father, make him regret his actions, and perhaps even respect her for her strength. But he never looked back. He married his mistress, Serena Hastings, and lived what he considered a ‘happy life.’ My mother, meanwhile, worked three jobs a day to put me through school. The relentless stress and crushing exhaustion soon led to breast cancer. Without the money for treatment, she died far too young. At her funeral, my father merely shrugged. “Your mother was always too stubborn, too proud,” he’d said, a cold, dismissive tone in his voice. “See? This is what happens when you leave me.” His mistress, Serena, had covered her mouth, a smirk playing on her lips. “It was Eleanor who insisted on the divorce, darling. Richard and I only got together after that. How can you blame me? She simply didn’t appreciate what she had.” Our relatives chimed in, “Eleanor had a good life and threw it away. She brought it on herself.” Everyone agreed she deserved her fate. Not a single soul offered sympathy. Her pride, her fierce resolve, had earned her no kind words, only a bitter, tragic half-life. Unable to afford tuition, I dropped out of college and started working. In the end, Serena and her son, Jeremy, fearing I might return to claim a share of the inheritance, hired thugs. They ambushed me, and I met a brutal, unjust end on my way home from an late shift. On that night, when my cries went unanswered by heaven or earth, I swore a silent oath: if I were ever given another chance, I would never again be a lamb led to slaughter. And mercifully, fate granted me that chance. When I opened my eyes again, I heard the familiar sound of my mother and father arguing downstairs. “Richard Reed, are you even human?!” My mother’s voice cracked, thick with tears. “I’ve been with you since I was twenty! You had nothing back then. We finally have a house, a car, a company, and this is how you treat me?! I want a divorce!” She then launched into a tearful account of every struggle, every sacrifice, she’d made by his side. It was the exact same scene from my past life. “That’s enough, Eleanor Montgomery!” My father’s voice boomed as he rose from the sofa. “What else can you do besides drone on about the past like a broken record?” He paced, agitated. “You’ve been idle at home all these years. The house, the car, the company—which of them did you work for?” He paused, his gaze cold. “Serena’s right. All this talk, isn’t it just an excuse to demand more money?!” Serena Hastings was my father’s mistress. His words struck my mother like a physical blow. Her eyes wide with disbelief, she stared at my father, then nodded slowly. “Fine. That’s how you see me, is it? Then divorce! Divorce immediately! Skylar comes with me. You can go off with your mistress!” “If you’re so determined to be high and mighty and get a divorce, then walk away with nothing!” My father slammed a divorce agreement onto the coffee table. Just as in my previous life, my mother reached for the agreement, her hand already moving to sign it. “Mom, wait.” I descended the stairs, my voice cutting through the tension. I picked up the agreement and scanned it. Identical to the last time: I was assigned to my mother, and all assets went to my father. It seemed my father had been prepared, knowing my mother’s proud nature, he’d deliberately provoked her into signing this one-sided document. My mother, oblivious to being manipulated, still believed he was just being stubborn. “This agreement needs a revision,” I told my father, looking at him directly. “Dad, I’m your daughter. I want to stay with you.” My father’s face broke into a relieved smile. My mother, however, stumbled back a step, her expression a mix of shock and profound hurt as she looked at me. She signed the revised agreement, packed a few changes of clothes, and turned to leave. I reached out to stop her, but she angrily shrugged off my hand. “Spineless creature! Go live with your rich father! Don’t touch me!” I knew. The double betrayal from both me and my father had wounded her deeply. But right now, her mind was consumed by her feelings for my father, and the misguided hope that her pride would make him see her in a different light. Any attempt to reason with her, to persuade her to fight for her share of the assets, would be useless. I had to take matters into my own hands. I discreetly gathered her jewelry—all gifts from my father, worth over a million dollars—and tucked them into her suitcase. In my previous life, she hadn’t taken a single piece when she left, leaving them all for Serena and forcing herself to take on dishwashing and cleaning jobs for barely fifteen hundred a month. Giving her these now, I knew, would at least buy her some time if she faced financial trouble. But my father’s assets were in the hundreds of millions; this small sum was far from enough. The next morning, my father’s company made headlines. “Reed Group Chairman’s Affair Forces Wife to Leave with Nothing,” “Richard Reed Abandons Devoted Wife for Mistress”—the titles were everywhere. The internet erupted in a storm of outrage, condemning my father as ungrateful. Partners called, eager to get to the bottom of the scandal. My father flew into a rage. “Who leaked this?! How did the media get such sensitive information?” His lawyer wrung his hands nervously. “We don’t know yet, Mr. Reed. But given the current situation, we simply must allocate a portion of the assets to Ms. Montgomery.” My father grumbled and cursed, but in the end, he had no choice but to agree to transfer the current villa to my mother and offer her an additional three million dollars in compensation. What surprised me, however, was that my mother, with an almost defiant pride, refused the compensation. My father was caught in a bind, burning under public scrutiny. I tugged his arm. “Dad, if Mom doesn’t want it, you could put it in my name. Then you can tell the media that Mom simply gave her share of the assets to me. It has nothing to do with you or anyone else.” My father agreed. He transferred the house and the savings into my name, ensuring it was legally notarized that these assets belonged solely to me. This move quieted some of the public outcry, but my mother called me, furious, accusing me of being greedy and spineless, telling me I didn’t know how to earn money with my own hands. I simply sighed. Just wait, Mom, I thought. You’ll soon learn that pride is worth nothing in the face of reality. A month after the divorce, my mother called me. Her voice was hesitant. “Skylar, how did some jewelry end up in my bag? Was it you or your father…?” Poor Mom. She was still clinging to the illusion that my father might feel some remorse. “It was me,” I stated, shattering her fantasy. I knew this was the moment my mother was starting to feel the harsh reality of the world. Years of being a housewife meant she faced rejection everywhere she applied for jobs. She had no friends, her parents had passed away, and her life was spiraling into difficulty. In my previous life, she ended up working as a dishwasher for a thousand a month, still harboring fantasies that my father would take her back. This time, finding the jewelry while financially desperate had ignited a final spark of hope for him. Unfortunately, my father was currently preoccupied with planning his wedding to Serena. “Dad and Serena are very much in love, and they’re getting married soon,” I cruelly informed my mother. “Mom, you need to start a new life too.” My mother finally gave up hope. She sold all the jewelry, used the money to buy herself a small two-bedroom apartment, and settled down. At least this time, she wouldn’t have to live in a dingy basement apartment for three hundred a month, like before. She hesitated, then said, “Skylar, I misunderstood you that day. But why didn’t you stay with me? Is it because you thought I was poor?” Recalling everything I’d endured in my previous life, I didn’t answer directly. I simply advised her, “Mom, I’ll study hard from now on, and you live well. Remember to get regular check-ups, and if you meet a suitable man, don’t be afraid to start over.” It was a long time before she replied with a choked “Okay.” Three months after the divorce, my father married his mistress, Serena Hastings. My father bought a new villa, and twenty-nine-year-old Serena moved in, bringing her ten-year-old son, Jeremy. Like many stepmothers, Serena was a two-faced woman. When my father was around, she’d smile sweetly, constantly piling food onto my plate. “Skylar, darling, you’re still growing. You need to eat more.” The moment my father left, her smile vanished, replaced by a look of disdain and veiled hostility. She’d hum a tune, primping herself, then dump Jeremy on me. “Skylar Reed, I have errands to run. Jeremy is your responsibility. I hear your grades are excellent, so you need to tutor him properly! Make sure he finishes his homework! He is, after all, the heir to the Reed family!” What errands could she possibly have? Just playing mahjong and clubbing with her fair-weather friends, no doubt. “I have my own homework to do. I don’t have time to tutor him,” I replied. I was in the second semester of my junior year, a demanding time for studies. “What’s a girl like you doing with all that homework?!” she sneered, her face filled with contempt. “Look at your mother—a college graduate, what good did it do her? Didn’t Richard just dump her? I only finished elementary school, and I’m living in a grand villa, aren’t I?” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Your mother, she just read too many books and ruined her brain. Had a good life and didn’t appreciate it. A woman’s virtue is in her obedience, not her intellect, Skylar. You don’t need all that schooling; just make sure your little brother is taken care of.” The scene from my mother’s funeral in my past life flashed before my eyes. I offered a gentle smile. “Of course. I’ll make sure to tutor him well.” Only then did Serena relent, leaving for her mahjong game, a satisfied smirk on her face. Before the sound of the door closing completely faded, a basketball suddenly slammed against my forehead with a thump. Stars exploded in my vision, and I nearly collapsed. Looking up, I saw Jeremy standing on the stairs, glaring down at me. “Skylar Reed, I’m the heir to this house! You may be older, but you’re just a girl, and you’ll get married and leave eventually! You have to listen to me and stay out of my way! Or I’ll beat you up!” “Who told you that?” I asked. “My mom, of course! She said all the Reed family fortune is mine! I call the shots here. You’re nothing!” Jeremy declared, his chin jutted out defiantly. He was right. I couldn’t cross him. Not yet. So, I would indulge him. I took him to the game room downstairs, then, under his direction, taught him how to play various video games. Once he’d grasped the basics, he waved me off, mimicking my father. “Go on, scram! Don’t bother me!” I returned to my study as instructed, a cold smile forming on my lips. Taught to be like this at ten years old? They would have quite the shock when he grew up. Jeremy spent the entire day in the game room, delighted. At four in the afternoon, estimating Serena would soon be home, I gave Jeremy the answer key. He happily copied all his homework. When Serena checked his work, her eyes curved into delighted crescents. “Oh, Richard, look how much Jeremy has improved! All correct! He truly is our future heir!” My father laughed, pleased. “Of course! What do you expect? He’s my son.” I watched them, a chill in my heart. Even in this life, where I chose to stay with my father, it seemed Jeremy was still the only heir he envisioned for the Reed family. From that day on, after discovering this free labor, Serena completely abandoned any pretense of supervising Jeremy. She was out early and back late every day, busy with shopping, beauty treatments, and mahjong. She ordered me to take full responsibility for Jeremy’s studies, even demanding I attend parent-teacher conferences in her place. Her days, in contrast, were easy and comfortable. The house, surprisingly, became harmonious, thanks to Jeremy and my feigned obedience, and Serena’s cheerful disposition. My father, free from the previous pressures, felt utterly at ease. He constantly praised Serena for her excellent homemaking and child-rearing skills. At Serena’s insistence, he even promised to transfer thirty percent of the company’s shares to her when Jeremy graduated from elementary school. My mother, I remembered, had been by his side for so many years and never received a single share. From then on, I studied even harder, practically forgetting to eat or sleep. My academic ranking climbed steadily. When I graduated high school, I was accepted into one of the top ten universities in the country, choosing a Business Management major. At the parent-teacher conference for college applications, the counselor repeatedly commended my parents for their excellent guidance. My father beamed, his smile stretching from ear to ear, as if my academic achievements were solely the result of his efforts. My mother, when she heard the news, wept tears of joy. She had worried that the divorce would negatively impact my studies, never imagining I could achieve such outstanding results. She didn’t know that after a lifetime of no education, forced to drop out and work, I cherished every opportunity to learn now. Serena, upon hearing my chosen major, pouted. “What’s a girl like you doing studying that?” My father, for once, didn’t agree with her. He chuckled. “The family business is here, after all! Maybe she can even help me out someday!” Serena, seeing my father’s beaming face, unhappily retorted, “Doesn’t our Jeremy have the company? What does it have to do with a girl?” My father scolded her for the first time. “You really are narrow-minded. Women can manage businesses too! Besides, Jeremy is still so young, isn’t he?” Serena, fuming but unable to argue, let out a disdainful huff. “What difference does it make? Our Jeremy is a genius! He gets perfect scores on all his homework, and he’s praised at every parent-teacher meeting! His elementary school graduation results are coming out in a few days. Jeremy will definitely get first place!” Yes, I thought. Busy with my own college entrance exams, I had almost forgotten that my exams and Jeremy’s elementary school graduation coincided that year. My father, hearing Serena’s words, looked even more delighted. Only Jeremy nervously lowered his head. I smirked inwardly. On the day the elementary school results were released, Serena specifically asked my father to cancel his business appointments to go with her. “Skylar Reed, we won’t be home for dinner tonight,” she said, gloating. “Our little family of three is going out to celebrate. Your dad is even transferring shares to us! We’ll be back late.” She deliberately emphasized “family of three,” pointedly excluding me. For some reason, she always harbored a subtle hostility towards me, constantly trying to provoke me, both overtly and covertly. I pretended not to notice her venom. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Have a good time.” To my surprise, less than an hour later, they were back. My father stormed through the door, yelling, “You told me your son would get first place?! Did you mean last place?!” I nearly burst out laughing. It turned out my father and Serena, unable to contain their excitement, had rushed to see Jeremy’s homeroom teacher without waiting for the parent-teacher conference. The teacher had then sharply reprimanded them, revealing that Jeremy spent his days at school trying to skip class and play games, never studying. She’d also criticized them as irresponsible parents for sending a child to every conference. Finally, to their astonishment, she presented his report card: 25 in English, 18 in Math, 15 in Science—last in the entire class. My father was shaking with anger and left before the conference even began. Serena immediately turned her fury on me. “Skylar Reed, you did this on purpose, didn’t you?! I told you to tutor your brother, what were you doing?! Why didn’t you tell us the truth after the parent-teacher conferences?!” I feigned innocence. “Dad, you know I was in my final year of high school, studying for college entrance exams. I was so busy! How could I have time to tutor him every day? And when I came back from conferences, I wanted to tell Aunt Serena, but she was never home! I couldn’t find her!” My father, hearing this, grew even angrier. “Serena Hastings! What kind of mother are you?! Didn’t you know Skylar was in her final year?! You burdened her with more! And you’re never home! What good are you?!” Serena realized she had been outmaneuvered. She shot me a hateful glare, then burst into tears. “Richard, I didn’t know it would be like this! I always thought he was doing so well!” My father ignored her tears this time. He turned to go upstairs, but Serena grabbed his arm. “Richard, we can talk about the grades later. Let’s transfer those shares first!” Even now, she was still focused on the thirty percent of shares. “Shares for what?!” My father exploded, swearing. He pointed at Serena and Jeremy. “With you two like this, what good would transferring shares do?! Don’t you ever bring it up again!” After my father went upstairs, Serena raised her hand to strike me. I caught her wrist, mimicking her own words at my mother’s funeral in my past life. “Aunt Serena, you were the one who insisted I take full responsibility for Jeremy’s studies, weren’t you? How can you blame me?” She was so enraged her lips trembled. I returned to my room to sleep, listening to her yelling at and hitting Jeremy in the living room all afternoon.

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Mom went to the hospital for a check-up. When she came back, she often cried over a piece of paper. I secretly took that paper to Dad. Dad tore it to shreds, roaring at her, “How long are you going to keep up this ‘playing sick’ act? Are you using our child now too?” He slammed the door and left. I crawled into bed and hugged Mom, crying, “Mommy, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone to Daddy.” Mom said nothing. She just wiped away my tears and smiled gently at me. Later, Mom really died. And my father, the aloof CEO who never loved her, held her lifeless body, crying like a madman. 1 Mom hadn’t spoken to me for a long time. No matter what I said to her, she ignored me. I could only curl up on the sofa by myself, playing with my building blocks. When I was hungry, I’d eat snacks and fruit from the fridge. I really wanted to call Dad. But Mom’s phone was dead. After I charged it and turned it on, it asked for a password. I didn’t know Mom’s password. So, I just waited for Dad to call us. But in my heart, I knew. Dad wouldn’t call us. He didn’t want us anymore. He had been living with Aunt Serena. The last time I saw him was when he brought Aunt Serena’s daughter, Bethany, to our kindergarten sports day. Seeing him, I was so excited. I hadn’t seen Daddy in such a long, long time. I wanted to rush over and yell, “Daddy! Daddy!” But Mom pulled me back. She said, “Sweetheart, that’s not your daddy. You’re mistaken.” How could that be? That was my daddy. I couldn’t be mistaken. I still wanted to call out, but Mom picked me up and carried me to a quiet corner. I huddled in her arms, watching Daddy hold Bethany the whole time. He wiped her sweat, gave her water, and tore open a chocolate bar, feeding it into her mouth. When Bethany fell and scraped her knee, Daddy immediately ran over, checked her injury, and asked tenderly, “Does it hurt? Come on, let me blow on it, make the boo-boos fly away.” Bethany wailed, stretching her arms out to my daddy. “It hurts! Hug me! I want a hug!” Daddy picked her up. He gently wiped the tears from her face with his finger, whispering comforting words to her. I heard him say he was taking her for a hamburger. I understood. I was mistaken. That wasn’t my daddy. 2 My daddy rarely hugged me. He had never taken me for a hamburger. Once, I fell on the street, and I couldn’t help it, tears just streamed down my face. I looked at Daddy pitifully, reaching out my hands, timidly saying, “Hug.” I saw him frown, then turn to Mom. “How do you raise your daughter? Crying over every little thing. Children shouldn’t be so delicate.” I didn’t understand Daddy’s words. But I could tell he was scolding Mom. Was it because I fell? Or because I cried? I quickly wiped away my tears, gritted my teeth against the pain, and stood up by myself. I walked in front of Mom, spread my arms, and shielded her. “I don’t hurt, I don’t hurt at all, Daddy, please don’t scold Mom anymore, please.” Daddy glanced at me, said nothing, and turned away. I looked up at Mom, wanting her to praise me. Tears welled in her eyes. She pinched my cheek and said, “I’m sorry, my precious, Mommy has failed you.” My teacher taught us that only those who do wrong need to say “I’m sorry.” I shook my head and said very seriously, “Mommy, you’re not sorry.” Because the one who did wrong was never my mommy. 3 My daddy rarely came home. Every time he did, he would argue with Mom. The last time he came home, I had gotten a gold star at kindergarten, and Mom rewarded me by buying me a hamburger. The moment Daddy opened the door, he swept all the hamburgers off the table. “I’m not home, and you feed her this junk food every day? Is this how you take care of our daughter?” I was terrified, hugging Mom and crying. Mom gently wiped away my tears, telling me not to be scared. She said, “You misunderstood, this is just…” “I don’t need to hear your explanations.” Daddy was very impatient, cutting Mom off. He threw a thick document at Mom and said, “Here’s the divorce agreement. Take a look, just sign it.” “This house is yours, the car is yours, the child…” “I want our child!” Mom hugged me tightly. She gripped my shoulders, and it hurt a little. But I didn’t struggle, because I could feel Mom’s fingers trembling. She must have been very scared. I hugged Mom back, very tightly, wanting to give her strength. “Your house, your car, your money—I can give it all up. I only want Skylar. She is my daughter.” Daddy stared at her for a moment, then suddenly laughed. It was a cold, uncomfortable laugh. “Eleanor Montgomery, what new trick have you learned now? Playing the doting mother, using the child to threaten me?” A rare flicker of anger crossed Mom’s usually gentle face. She turned her head away, not looking at Daddy. “I’m not threatening you. I just want my daughter.” “What would our daughter do with you? Eat this junk food every day?” I didn’t understand what they were talking about. But I knew what divorce meant. Sam, a boy from kindergarten, told us his mom and dad divorced, and he lived with his daddy. Some naughty children teased him, “Your mommy doesn’t want you anymore! You don’t have a mommy!” Sam cried terribly. I offered him a piece of taffy that Mom had tucked into my pocket. I comforted him, “Don’t cry. Your mommy won’t abandon you.” But he cried even harder, yelling, “They divorced! They don’t want me anymore! I don’t have a mommy or daddy anymore!” I was scared by him. And I started crying too. Now, I remembered that. I burst into tears. “I don’t want you to divorce! I want my mommy and daddy! I want my mommy and daddy!” Mom was heartbroken. She cried with me, holding me tight. Daddy froze, then grew even angrier, his brows furrowed in impatience. “Eleanor Montgomery, what nonsense are you teaching her every day? So many schemes at such a young age. Do you think using the child to control me will stop me from divorcing you?” Mom looked up, her face filled with an anger I’d never seen before. “Richard Reed, I forbid you to speak about my daughter like that! Apologize to my daughter!” “What ‘your’ daughter? Eleanor Montgomery, I will absolutely not let our daughter stay with you. Don’t dream about it.” Once again, Daddy slammed the door and left. 4 Mom’s phone rang. It was Daddy. I ran over, wanting to pick it up. It only rang once before he hung up. I gently shook Mom in bed. “Mommy! It’s Daddy’s call! Daddy’s coming for us!” Mom didn’t react. That’s right. Every time Daddy came home, he argued with Mom. It was only natural that she didn’t like him coming back. I tucked Mom in properly. Then I sat obediently on the sofa, waiting for Daddy to come home. Daddy arrived very quickly. The key turned in the lock. I stood up impatiently and ran to the door. Daddy opened it, saw me, and paused. “Where’s your mom?” “Mommy’s in the room…” “Never mind. I have nothing to say to her anyway. Skylar, go change your clothes and come out with me.” “Daddy…” I couldn’t stop him. He was already at the elevator, smoking a cigarette. Mom hated the smell of smoke. Daddy never smoked inside the house. Before, when his friends came over, he would always make them go outside to smoke. “Go outside to smoke, my wife can’t stand the smell.” At times like that, his friends would laugh and say, “Richard really spoils his wife, doesn’t he?” “Yes, I envy Eleanor.” And Mom would always blush, saying, “It’s fine, just smoke inside, don’t make them go out.” Daddy would put his arm around Mom’s waist, stop her, and kiss her. “Don’t worry about them, let them go outside. Let’s see who dares to smoke in front of my wife.” They had once been very much in love. What broke all of that? Was it me? Was it because I always clamored for hamburgers? Was it because I always cried over the smallest things? Was it because I wouldn’t let them divorce? Was it because I wanted to fight Bethany for Daddy? Was it my fault? Was that why Daddy hated Mom? Mommy, I’m sorry. It seems I messed everything up. 5 I couldn’t pull up the zipper on my dress. I patted Mom on the bed. “Mommy, help me zip it up. I can’t reach.” Mom still didn’t respond to me. Was I too disobedient? Now, even Mom didn’t want me anymore? I felt a little scared and didn’t dare wear that white dress. I changed into another outfit. When I walked out of the house, Daddy saw me and frowned. “How does your mother take care of you? Doesn’t she know to buy you new clothes?” No. It’s not like that. Mommy is very good to me. I just couldn’t wear that dress. I screamed this inside my head. But I didn’t dare say a word. I was afraid that if I spoke, Daddy would dislike me even more. Daddy took me to kindergarten. The teacher was happy to see Daddy. When she saw me, her expression was a little strange. “Hello, Miss Albright. Could you please call Bethany Hastings out?” “Certainly, Mr. Reed. One moment, please.” Bethany came out quickly. Seeing my daddy, she was delighted, skipping over and throwing herself into his arms. “Daddy!” I quietly took a step back. My daddy patted her cheek and said, “Good girl.” When he looked at me, his smile vanished. His face hardened. “Skylar Reed, did you fight Bethany?” “No, I didn’t.” I shook my head. It wasn’t a fight. I just snatched her hairpin. “Still lying?” Daddy frowned, his voice much colder. “Is this how your mother teaches you? Bullying other children and then lying, not daring to admit it? You disappoint me greatly.” I didn’t understand what Daddy meant. But I could deeply feel that he disliked me very much now. My nose stung, and I felt like crying again, but then I heard him roar at me. “Don’t you dare cry!” “Crying over every little thing! How can you be my daughter!” I tried not to cry, but I just couldn’t help it. By the end, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was the kindergarten teacher who came over and patted my back. “Skylar, breathe, quickly, breathe.” But I didn’t dare breathe. If I breathed, I wouldn’t be able to stop crying. Daddy sighed, didn’t scold me anymore. “Apologize to Bethany.” I opened my mouth, using all my strength to control myself from crying. I whispered, “I’m sorry.” “Louder.” “I’M SORRY!” Tears streamed down my face. My vision blurred. I couldn’t see anything. Daddy still wasn’t satisfied. He asked me, “What did you do wrong?” “I shouldn’t have snatched her things, Daddy, I was wrong, please don’t hate me.” Daddy ignored me. He just took Bethany’s hand and turned to me. “Come inside with me.” He tried to pull me into the classroom. The teacher tried to reason with him. “Mr. Reed, please, they’re just children. It’s normal for them to have little squabbles.” “She did something wrong, and she has to pay the price. Skylar Reed, come inside with me.” I sniffled, following Daddy’s footsteps. He interrupted the teacher who was giving a lesson. He made me apologize to Bethany in front of all my classmates. I looked at Bethany, who he held in his arms. She was wearing a new hairpin on her head. It was even prettier than the last one. I knew it must have been another gift from my daddy. And I, I was wearing old clothes. My hair was messy, and I looked a complete wreck. No, I couldn’t be like this. I couldn’t embarrass Mom. I wiped the tears from my face and said, “I’m sorry.” “Louder.” Daddy’s voice was cold and indifferent, nothing like the tenderness he used when speaking to Bethany. “I’M SORRY!” “What did you do wrong?” He looked at me, like a judge, not my father. “I’M SORRY! BETHANY HASTINGS! I shouldn’t have snatched your things! I was wrong! Please forgive me!” After I said it, the tears wouldn’t stop anymore. I burst into loud sobs. Daddy frowned, about to scold me, but the teacher noticed something was wrong and came to hug me. And I, I just saw black, and fell backward. Before my eyes closed, I saw my daddy’s impatient expression. He was still holding Bethany. He didn’t want to come over and check on me at all. 6 I woke up in the hospital. The doctor said I was malnourished and needed an IV drip. Daddy was very unhappy. “Is this how your mother takes care of you?” He kept calling Mom, but she didn’t answer a single call. He was furious. He asked me, “What has your mother been doing at home lately?” I thought about it, not daring to tell the truth. “Mommy cooks for me every day, takes me out to play, buys me new clothes. She’s very good to me, Daddy, please don’t scold her anymore.” “Lying at such a young age. Your mother has really ruined you.” He told Mr. Davies, his assistant, “Go back to the house, bring Eleanor Montgomery here. I want to see how she’s raising our daughter.” Mr. Davies was about to leave when Daddy received a call from Aunt Serena. “Richard, where are you? Come back quickly, Bethany has a fever, she’s calling for her daddy!” Daddy was in a hurry. He called out to Mr. Davies. “Give me the car keys. You can take a taxi to send her home.” Then, he was about to leave. “Daddy…” I called out to him. He paused for a second. “Skylar, you go home first, listen to Mr. Davies. Daddy will come find you in a couple of days.” He was lying. He would never come find me. Mr. Davies took me home. He didn’t come inside. After I got home, I ran into the house to find Mom. Mom was still asleep. She really slept a lot. The Mom I knew before wasn’t like this. She rarely rested; she was either cleaning the house, playing with me, or taking care of Daddy. Every night, I would also beg her to tell me a story. Daddy would always squeeze in and say, “I’ll tell her. You’ve had a long day, go to sleep.” “No need, I’ll do it.” “Sweetheart, be a good girl, go rest.” Daddy would kiss her. Mom would push him away, glance at me, and say, “Our daughter is watching!” “What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with me kissing my own wife?” Mom could never argue with him, and would always blush and run off. After Mom left, Daddy would put on a stern face. He would poke my nose, deliberately scaring me, saying, “Skylar, don’t you dare bully my wife, you hear?” But I knew Daddy wouldn’t actually hurt me. I would giggle, bury myself in his arms, and say, “Daddy, tell me a story! Daddy, tell me a story!” He would laugh too, holding me, and say, “What do you want to hear? Daddy will tell you.” Accompanied by Daddy’s gentle voice, I would soon fall asleep. It had been a very, very long time since I heard Daddy tell me stories. Now, even Mom didn’t tell me stories. I hugged Mom’s arm. There was a strange smell on her, like the smell I sometimes caught when passing by a garbage truck. I kept calling her, crying, my voice growing louder and louder. I cried until I was tired, and then I fell asleep. When I woke up, Mom still hadn’t woken up. Mommy, you’re really so sleepy.

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1 After I was blacklisted, I agreed to my ex-boyfriend’s demand. I would be a nude body double for his mistress, mimicking an adult film actress. One part of me was numb, the other grateful. The money would clear tomorrow, and my mother’s respirator wouldn’t have to be shut off. The third scene ended, and laughter erupted from behind the cameras. “Layla’s wiggling so seductively. Must have practiced a lot in bed, huh?” My spine stiffened instantly. Roman Thorne, from behind me, couldn’t resist a mocking remark. “That’s about the only thing her ‘wildness’ is worth money for.” Humiliation washed over me. Then, he casually added, “That fifty million will be transferred in another six months.” I turned back, terrified. “Didn’t we agree it would be paid as soon as the shoot finished?” Without that money, the hospital would pull the plug tomorrow. Roman Thorne indifferently tossed the script. “The liquid funds were invested in a big production for his new discovery, Clara. It’s her first lead role, so the grandiosity has to be perfect.” He expected me to throw a fit, to beg and plead as I had in the past. But this time, I was genuinely exhausted. … “Are you going out like that?” Roman Thorne raised an eyebrow, eyeing my thin costume, then glanced at the camera. I knew he was reminding me that the crew was all outside. But I had just been paraded, in far more humiliating scenes, in front of a live audience. What else was there left that I couldn’t face? I walked out numbly. Roman Thorne grabbed my wrist. “Can’t you show some decency?” I turned back to him, calmly. “Have you ever given me any decency?” He fell silent. We both knew the truth. From the moment he picked me up from film school at nineteen, he had elevated me to superstardom, earning me countless awards, making me shine with unparalleled glory. He said he loved my pride, loved the spirited way I stood at the pinnacle of success. But when my family faced bankruptcy, he was the first to turn his back. All because Clara, a budding new starlet, had whimpered, “Roman, Layla’s looking at me… I’m scared.” He had personally broken my wings, dragged me down from the clouds, and trampled me into the dirt. Seven years of devotion, yet it couldn’t stand against a newcomer’s few tears. He had broken up with me seven times, each time because Clara needed a better opportunity. Even now, knowing my mother lay in the ICU, with daily expenses that were astronomical, he remained utterly indifferent. My eyes suddenly stung with unshed tears. “How much did you invest in that film?” He answered casually. “Five hundred million.” Five hundred million. My heart felt like it was being cruelly squeezed, making it impossible to breathe. I only needed fifty million. A mere fraction of that five hundred million would be enough to save my mother’s life. Seven years with him, and I was worth less than the pomp and circumstance of Clara’s new film. Roman Thorne had always been absolute with me. He said six months; even if I died here and now, he wouldn’t change his mind. I stopped arguing, simply opening the studio door. Outside, a few stagehands were laughing, but seeing me, they instantly fell silent. They looked at me awkwardly. Someone finally let out a dry cough. “Layla, all done?” They exchanged knowing glances, then resumed their low laughter. I didn’t argue further, just pushed open the curtain. I came face to face with several corpulent investors. They looked at me awkwardly, and someone whistled. “Layla, the award-winner, are you finished with your shoot?” A burst of raucous laughter followed. Roman Thorne threw an ashtray from inside, shattering it at their feet. Glass shards flew, but I didn’t flinch, a piece cutting my calf. Blood trickled down my skin, yet I felt nothing. Roman Thorne stared intently at my wounded leg, his brow furrowing slightly. After a long moment, he tossed his suit jacket over me, in front of everyone. “I said six months, it’s not like I’m not giving it to you. Who are you putting on this act for, huh?” He didn’t even button it, just draped it casually, for appearances. I stared deeply at the man I had loved for seven years. I always believed that if I was just a little more obedient, a little more humble, he would remember the good in me. People often say that loving someone means feeling their pain, but in his eyes, there was only the cold indifference of someone viewing a plaything. The moment I stepped out of the studio, all the strength drained from my body, my legs trembling uncontrollably. As tears streamed down my face, I heard their excited chatter from inside the door. Someone asked Roman Thorne, “Layla’s family definitely got set up this time, Mr. Thorne. Aren’t you going to do anything?” Roman Thorne’s cool voice replied, “I was the one who set it up. Clara said Layla publicly humiliated her when she first debuted, making her suffer for years. I had to get some revenge for her.” “Aren’t you afraid she won’t come back this time? She’s an award-winning actress after all; she has her pride.” At this, Roman Thorne burst out laughing. “Don’t be silly. I’ve known her for eight years, she’s been with me for seven. When has Layla not come running at my every word? If she could truly leave me, I might even respect her more.” I leaned against the wall, biting down hard on the back of my hand, just to keep from making a sound. My family’s bankruptcy, my complete blacklisting online – it was all Roman Thorne’s doing. Simply because Clara had felt slighted years ago. 2 The wounds on my body and my damp clothes clung together, tearing at my skin with every movement. I remembered my mother, intubated, and the doctor’s warning that if I didn’t pay soon, they would turn off the respirator. I slapped myself hard several times. “You fool. It’s because you fell in love with him that you’ve driven yourself and Mom to such desperation.” I had never imagined my love story would end like this. Thorne Media, Roman’s family company, wielded absolute power in the entertainment industry. Roman Thorne’s single word could decide the fate of any artist. If he was determined to get revenge for Clara, no one in the entire industry would dare help me. I stood on an overpass, utterly broken, watching the ceaseless flow of car lights below, almost tempted to jump. But I couldn’t. What would happen to my mother if I died? “Yes, Clara.” A sudden thought struck me. At an awards ceremony long ago, I was the Best Actress, and she was an obscure newcomer. Backstage, an investor, fueled by alcohol, wouldn’t let go of her hand. I happened to pass by and helped her out of the predicament. At that time, I was giving Roman Thorne the cold shoulder because of rumors linking him to another actress. He hadn’t humored me, instead, he’d given a mocking chuckle, as if to spite me. “Is Layla the only one who does good deeds? That newcomer, Thorne Media is taking over her management contract.” Little did I know, that was the beginning of the tangled web between the three of us. I don’t know when Roman Thorne first took an interest in Clara. He showered her with top-tier resources, hired the best acting coaches, and put her on the hottest variety shows. To protect her from being bullied by industry veterans, he outright bought her an endorsement deal for an entire luxury brand. If Clara ever suffered even the slightest grievance, I didn’t need to ask to know. Because Roman Thorne would preemptively break up with me, then use my resources to atone. He always said, “Clara is innocent; she can’t handle the dirt of this industry.” She couldn’t suffer, so I was the one who had to. I rushed to the club where Clara’s celebration party was being held tonight. But the security guard blocked me at the door. “I’m sorry, Miss Hayes. Mr. Thorne has instructed that no one is to disturb Miss Reed’s enjoyment.” This club used to be a frequent haunt for Roman Thorne and me. Now that I was blacklisted, no one would give me any respect. The cold wind pierced through my body, and my wounds reopened, making my lips tremble with pain. “Let her in.” I looked up. Roman Thorne stood in the doorway, looking down at me. A flicker of pity crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by cold indifference. “Who are you trying to play pitiful for? Don’t you know you’ll get a fever if you get rained on?” That was true; I had a weak constitution and would get a high fever if I got wet. During the best period of my relationship with Roman Thorne, he would always anxiously wrap me in his coat, terrified I would get sick. I lowered my head. “I want to talk to Miss Reed.” Roman Thorne frowned, a faint sneer playing on his lips. “You still haven’t changed, Layla.” He was afraid I would cause trouble for Clara. After all, I had a history. When I first learned Clara often called Roman Thorne in the middle of the night, claiming she was afraid of the dark and couldn’t sleep, I had stormed into her film set and, in front of everyone, thrown her phone into a bucket of water. As the entire crew laughed at Clara, Roman Thorne had walked over and slapped me across the face. All the crew members were stunned. I stuck out my neck, asserting my claim. “You’re my boyfriend, not just any stray cat or dog who can be bothered in the middle of the night.” Roman Thorne just gave me a cold look, then, in front of everyone, shielded the weeping Clara behind him. “Look at you now, what’s the difference between you and a madwoman?!” He left me standing there, being judged by everyone. Clara, as a result, landed a film role I had been negotiating for six months with a major international director. And at that time, he locked me in the basement to “reflect.” Clara cried for how many days, I was locked up for that many days. Not a drop of water. Roman Thorne had to coax her for an entire week before he came home. He was also worried she would be affected by public opinion, so he bought a film company and gave it to her as a gift. I shook my head, forcing out a smile that was uglier than a cry. “I just want to explain to her that we’ve already broken up.” His obvious disbelief still brought a bitter taste to my mouth. I admitted I still loved him. Knowing he was the heir to the Thorne family and had immense self-esteem, I had never defied him. I was always afraid that a single expression or word might hurt him. Yet, I never imagined he would be so merciless towards me. That he would conspire to bankrupt my family and have me blacklisted, all just to appease Clara. I don’t not love him; I simply don’t dare anymore. Once the sense of injustice surfaced in my heart, it spread like a wild vine. Tears fell unbidden. Roman Thorne frowned. “Just talk, why are you crying…” He was about to raise his hand when a figure rushed out from inside the club. Clara, wearing a haute couture gown, with exquisite makeup and a body adorned with jewelry, exuded an air of wealth. She was completely different from the timid newcomer she used to be. More like a queen held in Roman Thorne’s palm than I ever was. “Why did you come out?” Roman Thorne took off his jacket, intimately draping it over her bare shoulders, asking tenderly. She looked up, and the moment her eyes reddened, Roman Thorne was thrown into disarray, bending down to gently console her. “What’s wrong? Who upset our Clara?” Only then did Clara’s tears turn to a smile. She gently punched Roman Thorne, whispering, “I heard Layla was here, so I came out to see.” “Now you’ve seen her, are you satisfied?” He asked Clara, but his gaze was fixed on me. I guessed the answer was yes, she was satisfied. The award-winning actress who had once helped her out at an awards ceremony was now in tattered clothes, her hair disheveled and plastered to her face. She was as pathetic as one could be. How could she possibly be dissatisfied? I actually wanted to confront her, but I didn’t dare. After all, if I angered Clara, Mom wouldn’t even have her respirator for a few more days. I forced myself to put on an ingratiating smile. “Clara, long time no see.” She, however, was much more familiar than I was. “Layla, you didn’t really have to come in person. I’ve already forgiven you.” I looked up at her. Forgiven me? Forgiven me for throwing away her phone when she was trying to seduce someone else’s boyfriend, or forgiven me for blocking her path in the entertainment industry? For a moment, I couldn’t tell, just stared at her blankly. Roman Thorne, however, suddenly flared up. “Clara is a generous person. Shouldn’t you say thank you?” Heart-wrenching pain. That was it. I fiercely held back my tears. Three words swirled on my tongue. I bit my tongue until it bled, the metallic taste spreading in my mouth before I could stutter them out. “Tha… thank you…” Roman Thorne’s gaze shifted from me. He pulled out a black card and handed it to Clara. “Here’s fifty million. You decide if you want to give it to her.” My eyes immediately lit up. If I could just get this money, my mom would be saved. I looked at Clara with hopeful eyes, but watched as she slowly tightened her grip on the card. Clara pouted delicately. “Layla caused me to be ridiculed by the whole crew back then, and almost caused a misunderstanding with Roman. I don’t want to just give it to her like that.” Roman Thorne chuckled, gently flicking her nose with his finger. “Whatever you wish.” I instantly panicked. Mom was waiting for this money to save her life, and all my savings had gone to filling the holes in our family’s finances. Now I was penniless, constantly surrounded by paparazzi and creditors. Mom’s heart wasn’t strong; she had ended up in the ICU after a scare. The last shred of hope was right in front of me. I pleaded, “Clara, I’m sorry. I’ll accept any punishment. Please, help me.” Clara thought for a moment, tapping her chin with her finger, then suddenly said playfully, “How about this, Layla? You dance that ‘dog crawl’ dance you did on set for me right here, and I’ll give you the card, okay?” She smiled sweetly, but her words were more venomous than a snake. “The one where you crawl on the ground like a little dog. Lots of people said you danced it especially well.” Roman Thorne still said nothing. He stood with his hands behind his back beside Clara, as if endorsing all her actions. “Not willing, huh…” she sighed regretfully, about to put the card back in her bag. I immediately panicked. “I’m willing!” As soon as those words left my mouth, she smiled radiantly. Her eyes curved into crescents, her chin slightly raised as if waiting for me to act. I glanced at the indifferent Roman Thorne, and slowly bent my body. It was just a simple movement, yet I felt as if I had been killed a thousand times. Thump. My knees and palms hit the cold floor. I collapsed onto it, my fingernails digging hard into my palms, my hands trembling. “Woof… woof…” I barked like a dog, crawling in front of them. Humiliation made my vision blacken. Clara smiled with satisfaction, then stamped her foot. “Oh, Layla, I was just joking with you, you actually did it.” I didn’t move, still prostrate before them. “Ugh…” Clara sighed, then threw the card in front of me. I reached out and picked it up, tears falling one by one onto the embossed card. Mom could be saved. Roman Thorne, I don’t dare to love anymore. I stood up, softly saying, “Thank you.” Roman Thorne’s face seemed to darken. He brushed off Clara’s clinging hand and walked inside. “Roman…” she called out, but Roman Thorne didn’t look back. Clara glared at me, annoyed. “Aren’t you leaving?” I got up and left the club. Behind me, Clara vexed for a while. Then her friends who had returned from abroad emerged, exclaiming in surprise, “Clara, so you really are Roman Thorne’s girlfriend! His family is top-tier elite in the city!” The earlier unpleasantness vanished. Clara proudly lifted her chin. “I told you, but you didn’t believe me.” The girls grew excited, but then one asked, “That Layla just now, she seemed to have quite a relationship with Roman. You just gave her fifty million? Isn’t that too cheap for her?” Clara’s eyes darkened, and a smile played on her lips. “Who said that money was given for free? I’ve already had someone anonymously send the video to all the major media outlets.” “What video?” Clara smiled. “Nothing, just a little video of the award-winning actress Layla… crawling like a dog at the club entrance. That’s all.” I left the club, racing to the hospital. Once Mom had her surgery, I would take her to another city, to start a new life. As for Roman Thorne, this was the end for us.

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I was the bait for our apocalypse survival squad. My brother had awakened a lightning ability, and my sister possessed a pocket dimension. I alone was powerless, my only talent being that I could outrun a zombie, if only by a fraction. Before the next horde of the undead arrived, I pleaded with Mom and Dad, begging them not to send me out to lure them this time. Mom and Dad pointed to the “safe house” they’d marked on the map, reassuring me. But when we reached the spot, my brother and sister cheered at the sight of the horde swirling around the house. I hid in the barren basement, shivering uncontrollably. When hunger finally made my head spin, I pushed open the cellar door, only to find no living breath outside. I picked up the walkie-talkie, and a voice crackled through: “Decoy deployed successfully, main team has withdrawn.” Only then did I realize I was nothing but a living shield of flesh. 1 Static. The crackle on the walkie-talkie hadn’t ceased. That chilling phrase, “Decoy deployed successfully,” hit me like a physical slap, stinging my face. The cellar was pitch black, truly, utterly dark. I felt my stomach; it was hollow. Three days. I’d survived on moldy potato skins for three days. Outside, guttural moans filled the air, punctuated by the scrape of nails on wood – a sound that grated like chalk on a blackboard, setting my teeth on edge. My name is Laila. Just as my old name suggested, I was soft-hearted, and my life, worthless. Three months into the apocalypse, I had become the family’s “full-time decoy.” My brother, Quinn, with his lightning ability, was the family’s bedrock. My sister, Rowan, with her spatial power, was our mobile storage unit. Mom and Dad handled logistics. And I? I was just the live target, the one who could “run a little faster.” “Laila, darling,” my mother used to say, “your brother is your only protector, and your sister manages our food supply. For the good of this family, what’s a little run?” This time, the horde was unprecedented in scale. They told me there was a safe house ahead. If I could just draw the bulk of the horde away, they could get inside, set up traps, and be secure for good. I believed them. Instead, I found myself locked in this basement, where only rats found refuge. They, however, drove off in their modified SUV, foot to the floor, speeding towards a true sanctuary. Leaving every single undead monster to me. The doorboards began to give. The stench of decay seeped through the cracks. I didn’t cry. Tears were water, and in this hellhole, every drop of water was life itself. I tightened my grip on the rusted steel pipe. It was my only weapon. BANG! A gap splintered open in the cellar door. A pale, grey hand snaked through, its nails like daggers. I didn’t scream. In the grip of absolute terror, a person often finds their voice seized. My mind echoed only one phrase: “Main team has withdrawn.” Withdrawn? Where to? That “Paradise Sanctuary” marked in red on the map? Two hundred miles from here. I laughed. The laugh tore at my chapped lips, drawing tiny beads of blood. The scent of blood seemed to excite whatever was outside. With a splintering CRACK. The flimsy wooden door shattered completely. A dozen pairs of sickly green eyes squeezed into the doorway. I should have died. By all rights, a pushover like me should have been ripped to shreds in a second. But just as the first zombie lunged. My world… slowed. Not metaphorically. It truly, literally slowed. The grotesque fangs, the spraying saliva, even the dust motes dancing in the air. Everything moved at half-speed. Instinctively, I dodged sideways. The sure-kill lunge brushed past my clothes, missing entirely. The zombie slammed into the wall, its skull rupturing. I froze. I stared at my hands. A strange heat pulsed through my limbs, tingling everywhere. Hunger. Not the hunger in my stomach. It was my cells roaring, craving energy. I looked at the dead zombie. Inside its ruptured skull was a small, glittering object. A core. My brother always forbade me from touching these when he killed zombies, claiming a normal person like me would explode if I did. Driven by an impulse I couldn’t explain, I picked it up. Wiped it clean, then swallowed it. BOOM! Something erupted inside my head. The warm current transformed into a raging hurricane. I heard it. The SUV’s engine, two hundred miles away. I smelled it. The savory aroma of stewed meat from my sister’s pocket dimension. And my parents’ false laughter. “Finally rid of that dead weight,” that was Mom’s voice. “The extra rations will last us days.” “She only survived this long because she could run fast,” my brother added. “Good riddance. A waste, but at least we got some use out of her.” I closed my eyes, then opened them again. Darkness, to me, was now as bright as day. I stepped over the corpses on the ground and walked out of the cellar. The horde outside instantly turned their heads toward me. Hundreds of them. A squirming mass. If this were before, I would have wet myself. But now, looking at them, I just felt… They were too slow. Slow as snails. I stretched my neck, my bones crackling with sharp pops. “Decoy deployed successfully?” I murmured to the empty street. “Then are you ready to face the hunter?” 2 I sprinted across the desolate wilderness. The wind, once a biting whip, now felt like a gentle caress on my face. Two hundred miles. Four hours by car, given the rough roads. I made it in a single night. My shoe soles were shredded, yet my feet were without a single blister. Dawn was just breaking. I spotted the familiar SUV. It was parked beside a dilapidated roadside diner and rest stop. Sprayed across its side was my brother’s obnoxious team name: “The Stormbringers.” A perimeter of zombie repellent powder had been liberally scattered around them. Such luxury. I’d risked my life to snatch that from a pharmacy, nearly losing my throat to a Licker in the process. Now, they used it like mosquito coils. I didn’t charge in directly. Though my speed was immense, I still wasn’t sure of the full extent of my newfound “ability.” My brother’s lightning, my sister’s stocked dimension, and my parents’ silver tongues that could twist black into white. I had to be cautious. I climbed a withered, skeletal tree. My vision was unnaturally sharp; through the tinted windows, I could make out every detail inside. They were eating breakfast. A self-heating meal. Steaming hot, the rich sauce bubbling. Rowan picked up a piece of processed meat, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “More lunch meat? I crave fresh vegetables.” Mom quickly soothed her, “Be a good girl, Rowan. Once we reach Paradise Sanctuary, I’ll grow you all the vegetables you want. Your space keeps things fresh, doesn’t it? Just save some for later.” Dad picked at his teeth, “Good thing we didn’t bring Laila. Otherwise, we’d have to share a sip of this soup with her.” My brother scoffed, “Give her soup? A waste. Her scrawny frame could survive on water alone.” I sat on the tree branch, listening without a flicker of expression. That gnawing hunger surged within me again. Not for their meal. No… I craved flesh. Living flesh. The thought startled even me the moment it surfaced. I touched my canine teeth. They seemed… sharper, longer? Just then, commotion stirred at the other end of the rest stop. A lone zombie shuffled, swaying, towards them. Drawn by the scent of their meal. Quinn frowned, setting down his fork. “How irritating.” He raised his hand, a violet arc of electricity crackling in his palm. ZZZZT! The zombie hadn’t even gotten close before it was incinerated into charcoal. “My boy is amazing!” Mom clapped. “Your ability is getting so powerful!” Quinn proudly blew on his fingertips. “Of course. I’m a Level Two ability user now.” Level Two? I narrowed my eyes. The zombie’s core hadn’t been extracted yet. I moved. Like a whisper of wind. Before they could even react, I had already swept past the charred corpse. With a flick of my fingers, the dull grey core landed in my palm. Then, I was back in the shadows behind the tree. The entire sequence took less than two seconds. “Huh?” Quinn rubbed his eyes. “Did something just… pass by?” “What are you talking about?” Rowan rolled her eyes. “It was just the wind. Are you seeing things, Quinn? You must be exhausted.” Dad cautiously scanned our surroundings. “Stop being paranoid. Eat quickly, then we hit the road.” Hidden behind the tree, I popped the still-warm core into my mouth. It crunched. Like a candy drop. Another wave of warmth flooded through my body. I felt my hearing sharpen even further. I could even discern the rhythm of Rowan’s heartbeat. And in her pocket dimension… the rustling of stacked supplies. So, it wasn’t just speed. I could “sense” things. My gaze fixed on the pendant around Rowan’s neck. The conduit for her spatial ability. And one of my targets. Since you called me dead weight, I’ll show you what true “heavy lifting” looks like. I picked up a pebble from the ground. Aiming for the SUV’s rear tire. With a powerful flick of my finger. PHUT— A muffled thud. The SUV lurched violently downwards. “Damn it! A flat tire?!” Quinn swore, scrambling out of the vehicle. The show had begun. 3 “What the hell happened? These are run-flat tires!” Quinn crouched by the wheel, staring at the finger-sized hole, utterly bewildered. “Did you run over a nail?” Mom fretted, wringing her hands. “Out here in the middle of nowhere, how are we supposed to change a tire?” “Where’s the spare?” Dad demanded. Rowan’s face went pale. “The spare… I tossed it out to make room for those designer bags.” The air hung heavy, thick with silence for three excruciating seconds. “You threw out the spare for bags?!” Quinn roared, his voice cracking. “What time do you think it is? Can those bags feed us? Can they get us out of here?” Rowan’s eyes welled up with tears of indignation. “But they were limited edition! I could never get them before! Besides, who knew a run-flat tire could burst anyway?” “Alright, alright, stop fighting!” Dad intervened, trying to be the peacemaker. “Rowan just wants us to live comfortably later. Quinn, you’re an ability user, surely you can figure something out.” “What am I supposed to do? I control lightning, not wrenches!” Quinn, frustrated, kicked the car door. Watching from the tree, I almost burst out laughing. So much for the “elite squad.” No spare tire meant they either abandoned the SUV or tried to patch it up, desperate. But this was a rest stop. A favorite gathering spot for the undead. The muffled pop of the tire, though not loud, would carry far in the silent wasteland. In the distance, faint yet distinct, came the sound of many footsteps. “Damn it, a horde!” Quinn’s face tightened, his ears twitching. “Quick! Grab what you can and run!” Rowan frantically began stuffing things into her pocket dimension. The car, the tent, the half-eaten self-heating meal… “Stop grabbing junk! Get the weapons! The water!” Quinn roared. It was then that I struck again. I aimed for Rowan’s wrist. WHIZZ! A pebble shot forth. Striking her nerve point dead on. “Agh!” Rowan shrieked, her hand spasming. The several cases of bottled water she was trying to store vanished from her grip, clattering to the ground and rolling everywhere. “My hand! My hand is numb!” She clutched her wrist, sobbing uncontrollably. “Stop wailing! They’re here!” Dozens of zombies burst forth from the rest stop buildings. Clad in tattered uniforms, their faces dripping with decaying flesh. “Quinn! Hold them off!” Dad pushed my brother forward, while pulling Mom back. Quinn gritted his teeth, unleashing lightning from both hands. “Lightning Net!” Several bolts of electricity arced out, felling the first few zombies. But the ones behind simply trampled over their fallen comrades, surging forward. And among them, this time, was one that was different. It crawled on all fours, its tongue disturbingly long, dragging on the ground. A Licker. The very kind that had almost ripped out my throat. It fixed its gaze on Rowan, seemingly sensing the vibrant warmth of her living flesh. ROAR! The Licker lunged. Blindingly fast, a crimson blur. Quinn’s lightning missed. “Rowan! Watch out!” Mom shrieked. Rowan froze, petrified, even forgetting to retreat into her dimension. Just as that long, horrid tongue was about to coil around Rowan’s neck. I dropped from the tree. Not to save her. But to steal her kill. This Licker’s core looked promising. I descended like a hawk, plummeting from the sky. My steel pipe, fueled by the force of my descent, plunged with chilling precision into the Licker’s hind brain. SPLAT. Black blood sprayed. The Licker didn’t even manage a whimper, nailed dead to the ground. I planted one foot on its head, yanked out the pipe, and swiftly dug out the core. My movements were fluid, seamless, too quick for the eye to follow. The air around us fell silent, instantly. The lightning in Quinn’s hands sputtered out. Rowan’s mouth hung open, tears still streaking her face. Mom and Dad stared, eyes wide, as if they’d seen a ghost. I slowly lifted my head, shaking the blood from the steel pipe. And offered them a radiant smile. “Hello, family.” “Surprised? Unexpected?” “A ghost… a ghost!” Mom was the first to react, her eyes rolling back as she swayed, about to faint. Dad fumbled to steady her, his whole body trembling. “La… Laila? You’re not…” “Dead?” I finished for him, toying with the blood-slicked core in my hand. “Disappointing, isn’t it? The Grim Reaper apparently found me too fast to catch.”

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I was heading to the bakery to buy my own birthday cake when I spotted her, the girl they raised as their own, selling cakes by the roadside. Sienna, the one who’d been cast out years ago for orchestrating a car accident to prevent me from reclaiming my life. “Buy a cake, please. It’ll help me afford dinner.” I carried the rather ugly cake home, only for Mom and Dad and my brother to recognize it instantly as Sienna’s creation. “You bought Sienna’s cake? Is she doing alright now?” “Not really.” Hearing my answer, the three of them immediately grabbed car keys and rushed out. “If you hadn’t suddenly decided to come back, Sienna wouldn’t have lost control and made that mistake. She deserves a chance to atone.” I lit my birthday candle, blew it out, and made a wish. “Happy Birthday, Nora. May your trauma therapy go smoothly this year.” … The candle went out. The room plunged into dimness. I fumbled my way through, relying on memory, but accidentally knocked my knee against the corner of the table. Fortunately, ever since the day I returned, Mom and Dad and Adam had carefully padded every sharp corner with thick tape, afraid I might get hurt. I’d come home covered in scars, the abuse and the car accident leaving permanent marks on my body. The light flickered on. I saw the crisscrossing scars on my wrists, left from… my previous home. The cake was hideous, with “Happy Birthday” scrawled haphazardly across it. It tasted terrible. Sienna wasn’t a baker; her customers were few. If her plea hadn’t stopped me, she likely wouldn’t have had a single sale today. I took a deep breath, then tossed the cake into the trash. This year, I turned eighteen. I’d been undergoing trauma therapy for five years. Mom and Dad and Adam didn’t know. I was found when I was thirteen. Half-dead, I reached for a shard of a beer bottle, intending to swallow it. I didn’t want to live anymore. Ever since my foster parents picked me up, if I didn’t beg for at least three hundred dollars a day, I’d be brutally beaten. They wanted me to look pathetic the next day so people would give me more money. “Two hundred and sixty-nine dollars.” My foster mother’s hands were still wet with saliva as she counted the coins, one by one. Hearing that number, my face went pale with terror, and I cowered in the corner. “I tried my best… no one gives much money now. They say I’m up to no good.” I stammered, still remembering the words they’d said during the day. “Kids this age should be in school, shouldn’t they? Probably wants money for a gaming cafe or something.” “These days, kids are so rebellious. She probably just wants pocket money.” No one gave me money. Truly, no one. “Then you’re not pathetic enough. You can’t make people pity you.” My foster father stood up, and the ash from his cigarette fell onto my neck. I flinched from the burn. But dared not move. “I… I’ll get more money tomorrow, please don’t hit me…” I knelt, bowing my head repeatedly until it bled. My foster father scoffed, chugging the last half of the beer. Then he brought the bottle crashing down on my head. The world spun, and familiar pain spread across my forehead. I touched it; it was slick with blood. The beer bottle shattered. My foster parents cursed. “If we don’t make a few more cuts, how will she get more money? She’s asking for it.” “Picking her up was just a way to make money. Otherwise, she’d be dead already!” The stench of stale beer mingled with blood, filling the entire room. I made the bravest decision I could think of at that moment. I picked up a shard of the broken bottle, intending to swallow it. “What are you doing!” The door was kicked open. I saw police officers, and four elegantly dressed people standing at the entrance. All of them, except for the girl, looked at me with heartbreaking concern. “My daughter! My poor daughter!” The woman rushed forward, embracing me. My blood stained her beautiful clothes. I felt her entire body tremble. “Mommy came too late, darling. Mommy came too late, that’s why you suffered so much. How much pain have you endured…” Adam punched my foster father, knocking out a tooth. “How dare you bully my sister! Is my sister, Nora Song, someone to be messed with? How many lives do you have to pay?” Adam’s eyes were bloodshot. Dad spoke to the police, his voice firm. “Make sure they pay for this. She is a Song, my daughter.” I snapped back to reality. Staring blankly at the cake in the trash. Perhaps after five years, their guilt had long faded. Mom, Dad, and Adam still brought Sienna back. They looked at Sienna with tender pity, just as they had once looked at me. “You’ve truly suffered, Sienna. You should have contacted us sooner.” Mom cried, her heart aching. “You were my sister for over a decade. How could I abandon you?” Adam’s face was serious. “I won’t let anyone who bullied you get away with it.” Dad led them through the door, speaking with conviction. Then, all three noticed me sitting at the dining table. They froze. I smiled. “You’re back.” Their faces changed instantly. They stared at me as if I were a wild beast, frozen, not daring to step forward. “Nora, I’m home.” Sienna took a step closer first, spotting the cake in the trash. She didn’t seem angry; she just smiled. “Did you like the cake?” Mom, Dad, and Adam also saw it, their voices tinged with reproach. “Sienna made that cake for you, how could you just throw it away? Are you still holding a grudge over what happened five years ago? Didn’t we move past that already? Why do you keep dwelling on it?” Mom murmured, confused by my actions. “It was terrible.” I stated plainly, my expression blank, wanting to leave. “Even if it tasted bad, you should have eaten it. It was Sienna’s gesture.” Mom sighed, and they all looked at me with disappointment. As if I was the unreasonable one. But I’d paid for that cake; it wasn’t a gesture from her. I didn’t say anything, just stood up and went to my room. I heard them talking about me behind my back, comforting Sienna. “Don’t mind Nora. She might still be upset, but her feelings don’t matter. Sienna has to come home; she can’t suffer anymore.” “How can she still hold a grudge after all these years? Besides, Sienna was punished too; it’s even.” “Sienna, go take a hot shower. Tomorrow we’ll take you shopping for clothes.” Their voices were filled with excitement. I quietly walked to my bed. And pulled up the leg of my pants. It was my prosthetic leg. That car accident had condemned me to prosthetics for life. They didn’t know. Because that day at the hospital, they personally saw Sienna off. No one came to see me. So they never knew that my leg was artificial. The next day, I went for my trauma therapy. “You still have severe trauma responses to the car accident and your childhood,” the doctor told me, frowning. “Are Mr. and Mrs. Song not treating you well?” I opened my eyes, my body drenched in sweat, my face still bloodless. Those past events clung to me like ghosts. “They are,” I replied. But it was only “better” than my foster parents. I didn’t know what “truly good” felt like, but they provided me with food and warm clothes. “You still need extensive therapy. It’s crucial to avoid cars as much as possible and try not to dwell on those negative memories, otherwise, you’ll continue to experience trauma responses.” The doctor sighed. “Should I inform Mr. and Mrs. Song? They still don’t know you’re undergoing therapy. Perhaps if they knew, they could offer more protection.” “No need.” I put on my jacket. “I don’t want them to feel guilty because of this.” Especially now that they’d welcomed Sienna back. I stepped outside. “Why did you hurt Nora? She’s suffered enough already, and you still try to bully her.” Mom shoved Sienna to the ground. “Send her away. Otherwise, I’m afraid she’ll hurt Nora again.” Dad’s face was etched with disappointment, unmoved by Sienna’s pleas. Adam held my hand, comforting me repeatedly. “Nora, it was my fault that you got lost back then. Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone bully you ever again.” But five years. In five years, they’d brought Sienna back and accused me of holding grudges. As I was lost in thought, a car sped past me, too close, too fast. Instantly, I broke into a cold sweat, collapsing to the ground. Because of my aversion to cars, I always walked everywhere, and even the sound of a vehicle made me tremble. This road was usually deserted; cars rarely passed. “Hahaha, look how scared you are! You’re the Song family heiress now, but you’re still such a coward.” Sienna stepped out of the car, dressed in a leather jacket. She took off her sunglasses and looked at me, utterly devoid of the fear and pity she’d shown yesterday. “You know why, so why pretend?” I struggled to my feet, my prosthetic leg chafing painfully against my thigh. Sienna scoffed. “So what? You probably don’t know, do you? When they kicked me out, they actually slipped me a ten-million-dollar card. They were afraid I’d suffer, saying if I didn’t live well, they’d take me back.” My face instantly turned ashen, my nails digging into my palms. “What did you say?” The punishment I thought she received was merely a show for me.

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Serena, my boyfriend Jake’s junior intern, boasted about delivering babies with one hand. Her attempt failed disastrously—she screamed at the mother’s exposed abdomen, covering her face in horror: “Her anatomy is different! Textbooks never mentioned this!” I rushed to the hospital at midnight and saved the mother. Serena faced public outrage and heavy consequences. Jake wanted to defend her, but I stopped him: “Back her now, and you’ll lose your Young Investigator award—and the internet will tear you apart.” Overwhelmed by abuse, Serena drowned herself, leaving a note soaked in her own blood, accusing Jake of betrayal. He burned it in silence. Years later, Jake became a top medical scholar. During my labor, he operated—with one hand. Glaring at my unhealed womb, he dangled the bloody baby at my face: “See? One-handed delivery works. Why did you crush Serena? If I’d backed her then, she’d be where I am now!” He threw the infant to the floor. Consumed by rage and despair, I died with my child. Reawakening, I found Jake fiercely defending Serena—oblivious that her victim was the sister of a ruthless tycoon whose vendetta would destroy him. … The moment I realized I was back to the day Serena was showing off her one-handed delivery, I immediately switched off my phone. I slept straight through until morning. The next day, when I turned on my phone, sure enough, there were 99+ missed calls. In my previous life, Serena, realizing the mess she’d made, had called me late that night, begging me to clean it up. Despite having just finished three surgeries and barely getting an hour of sleep, I had rushed back to the hospital through a snowstorm, operating from dusk till dawn. I saved both the mother and the baby. Because of this, the mother’s brother, the head of A-City’s top conglomerate, didn’t punish Serena severely. He merely ensured she received the appropriate disciplinary action. If Serena had just endured that period, she might have continued her career and even thrived. But she had been coddled by my boyfriend, Jake, since childhood and had never known hardship. Faced with a deluge of online abuse, she simply jumped into the river. When I arrived at the hospital, Serena was slumped on the floor outside the operating room, weeping. My colleagues were frantic, their scrubs stained with blood. “It’s all your fault! Your hands were shaking, but you just had to try that one-handed stunt!” “Just because Director Thorne brought you in, you think you can do whatever you want?!” “Now look what’s happened! We can barely keep the patient alive. She’ll die if this goes on much longer! If her brother finds out, none of us who were involved in this surgery will ever work again!” The “beep-beep” of alarming medical equipment echoed from inside the operating room. My colleagues collapsed onto the floor, their faces ghostly pale. “It’s over… it’s all over…” A newly arrived colleague burst into tears. “Why wasn’t Dr. Armitage on call last night? If she had been here, she would have found a way…” “It’s truly hopeless now…” Serena looked up, and the moment she saw me, her eyes lit up. “It’s her!” She pointed at me. “I was calling her all night! But I couldn’t get through! It’s not us who killed the patient! It’s her, who could have saved her but deliberately switched off her phone!” Everyone turned their heads sharply to look at me. “Dr. Armitage!” “Dr. Armitage, did you really switch off your phone on purpose?” “Of course!” Serena stood up, pulling out her phone to show everyone the 99 missed calls she’d made to me. Her eyes red, she walked towards me, step by step. “Dr. Armitage, this is a matter of life and death. Which of us doctors doesn’t keep their phone on 24/7? “You knew there was a C-section scheduled for last night, and you’re the most capable person in OB/GYN. “To switch off your phone at such a critical moment, Lily Armitage, what were your intentions?!” “Slap!” A sudden, sharp slap landed on her face. I looked down at her. “Serena, have you lost your mind?” Other department colleagues heard the commotion and rushed to the scene. I snapped, my voice sharp. “The on-call schedule clearly states that you were scheduled for surgery last night, not me! “Yes, I didn’t notice my phone was out of battery, but the person truly responsible for this surgery is Dr. Brooks, who signed the on-call sheet!” Serena’s face paled. “When a life is at stake, what does ‘on-call’ or ‘not on-call’ matter? Your phone is never off, except last night. “Ha, Lily Armitage, it’s fine if you target me, but you can’t gamble with a human life!” She spoke with such righteous indignation that some uninformed patients began to speculate that I had deliberately skipped out on my shift, leaving the mess for Serena, a newcomer. All just to see her fail and make a fool of herself. But before I could speak, a colleague couldn’t hold back. “Serena, shut your mouth! Do you have any idea Dr. Armitage did three major surgeries back-to-back yesterday? She only managed to grab two bites of bread and a sip of glucose water in between!” “Exactly! You spend your time in the office with the AC on, and we have to cover your rounds. How would you know how hard Dr. Armitage works?!” “She didn’t get home until midnight yesterday. Is it really that strange to forget to charge your phone after a whole day, then just crash into bed?!” The family members of the patient I saved yesterday also chimed in. “Besides, Dr. Armitage fulfilled her responsibilities during her working hours. Last night was simply not her shift!” All the onlookers suddenly understood. Even the colleagues who had assisted Serena in the surgery couldn’t stand it anymore. “Alright, Dr. Brooks, last night was indeed not within Dr. Armitage’s responsibilities. We can only blame our bad luck.” Serena stumbled and fell to the floor. Her lips were white. “What’s everyone doing here?” The Chief of Staff’s angry roar filled the air. Behind him, Jake, his face grim, strode purposefully towards us. I was about to speak. But he walked right past me. He went directly to Serena, gently helping her to her feet. “It’s okay, I’ll find a way to help you. You’ll be alright.” Under the Chief of Staff’s intimidating gaze, the crowd quickly dispersed. I was called into his office. The moment the door closed, his stern expression vanished, replaced by panic. “Lily! Even though this isn’t your fault, you have to save this patient! “She’s the sister of Preston Thorne. If she dies in our hospital, no one, from top to bottom, including you, will have a place to work anymore!” I sighed. In truth, the reason I dared to turn off my phone was because I knew my colleagues could keep the patient stable. Even if I came after I woke up, there would still be a way to save her. That way, there would be room for negotiation in the subsequent events. I looked at the Chief of Staff. “Today’s incident is not only Serena’s responsibility but also Jake’s.” The Chief of Staff froze. I handed him a document signed by Jake. “Jake personally approved Serena’s one-handed delivery procedure. “We’re taking such a huge risk, all to cover for these two. So, Chief of Staff, I can clean up this mess. “However, Serena isn’t the only one who needs to be punished.” I pressed my hands on the desk. “If Jake isn’t dealt with properly, similar incidents will keep happening. “And I’m not sure I’ll be able to save our hospital then.” The Chief of Staff’s expression grew serious. Jake was his protégé, someone who had followed him since medical school. However, when it came to the hospital’s core interests, even a protégé had to be dealt with. Moreover, he now relied on me to save Preston Thorne’s sister – Nora Thorne. “That scoundrel! He’s gotten so reckless, thinking he can do anything because I promoted him!” He slammed the agreement onto the desk. “Don’t worry! Not only will his upcoming Young Investigator application be rejected by me, but his promotion report will also be killed! “After this, he’ll only be able to do odd jobs at the entry level. He can forget about ever holding a core position in the hospital again!” I curved my lips into a small smile. I signed the agreement. This meant that Jake’s path to soaring from Young Investigator to Fellow, which he had taken in my previous life, was now— Severed. From morning until evening. Nora Thorne’s vital signs gradually returned to normal. The baby’s life was also saved and was being closely monitored in the intensive care unit. My scrubs were soaked with sweat. The moment I stepped out of the operating room, I “thump!” collapsed to the floor. It took a full bottle of glucose given by a colleague before I slowly regained consciousness. My colleagues who had assisted Serena in the surgery earlier cried and clutched my hand. “Thank you, Dr. Armitage. Without you, we really don’t know what we would have done…” “Yes, Preston Thorne is a lunatic. If he knew his sister died on our watch, our families might also…” I comforted my colleagues. Finally, I could leave work and go home for some much-needed rest. As I reached the underground parking garage, footsteps behind me made me spin around. No one… I muttered to myself, then turned and continued walking. Suddenly, everything went black. “Mmph!” I thrashed violently but was still dragged into a dark room. My right hand was forcibly grabbed and pressed onto a table. In the dim light, I vaguely saw the silhouette of the person in front of me. “Jake!” The hand gripping me stiffened. I was tied to a chair, struggling frantically. “Jake! It’s you! I know it’s you, right?! “What do you want? We can talk! I beg you… let me go, I saved Serena’s life!” The person in front of me paused. When he spoke again, it was just a sigh. “No, while you saved her from Preston Thorne’s wrath. “But you ultimately still put her in an unfair and unjust situation. “I’m sorry, if you truly want to help her, you’ll have to lose a hand. “That way, no one will think you performed the surgery, and everyone will believe Serena was the one who turned things around. “I’ll talk to the colleagues. I’ll also delete your surgical records. Lily, this time, please help her.” My eyes widened. “Jake!” The cleaver was raised high. I struggled with all my might. “I’m a doctor! How will I live if I lose my hand?!” The cleaver paused. The dim yellow light illuminated a flicker of reluctance in his eyes. “I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life, Lily.” “Wait!” I shouted. “If you cut off my hand, you won’t be able to be a doctor either!” He shook his head. “Lily, Chief of Staff Lee is my mentor. He won’t let things escalate to that point. “Don’t worry, I’ll be able to stay in the medical field and protect you for life.” “He’s already given up on you!” His body stiffened. He chuckled. “No, he hasn’t.” “Thud!” “Argh!” A heart-wrenching scream. Sweat and tears streamed down my forehead. For a promise to “save her,” Jake was capable of going to such lengths… I couldn’t feel my right hand anymore. I didn’t dare to turn and look. I couldn’t imagine what my right hand had become. “Lily, it’s alright now, it’s alright, shhh…” A towel wrapped around my right hand. Jake kissed my wrist. “Don’t worry, I’ll be by your side for the rest of my life.” I heard my own trembling voice. “Get out…” “Lily…” “Get out of here!” Amidst my violent gasps, Jake released me. “Lily, I’m sorry. “But until the dust settles, I’ll have to keep you here, I’m sorry. “Serena’s reputation cannot be tarnished.” I smiled, tears rolling down my cheeks. “You’re really that afraid of me going out and telling the truth.” “I’m sorry…” The door closed in front of me. The room plunged into complete darkness. My consciousness also faded into chaos.

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For ten years, I’d been working to win over the devoted second male lead, and on our tenth anniversary, he threw me a grand wedding. After we married, Alex doted on me relentlessly, yet a persistent unease gnawed at me. The system’s progress bar for his affection remained stubbornly at zero. It wasn’t until our wedding anniversary that I found a hidden journal in the drawer of his study. It turned out Alex had awakened. He knew this world was a novel, knew I was the villainess, and knew I would harm the heroine, Olivia. To protect his beloved, he had only been pretending to love me. The moment I grasped this horrifying truth, the system’s notification chimed in my mind: “Mission failed. Host will be erased in 48 hours.” 1 I stared at the journal, my hands trembling as I closed it, my mind reeling. All these years, Alex’s gentle care and affection had merely been a charade, a means to keep me under constant surveillance, to prevent me from hurting the woman he truly loved. No wonder, despite his boundless indulgence, the affection progress remained at zero. It had all been an act. My fingertips brushed against Alex’s phone on the desk. After a moment of hesitation, I picked it up to check. Sure enough, I found his secret social media account. Inside were chat logs between him and Owen, the novel’s male lead. From their conversation, it was clear Owen had also awakened, aware that this world was a work of fiction. Owen: “I remember the book saying Amy liked me, always fought with Olivia out of jealousy, and even hired people to bully Olivia, driving her into depression.” “It must be tough, marrying such a wicked woman and pretending to be deeply in love with her.” “But Amy doesn’t seem so bad now, and she’s growing to love you more and more. If she ever finds out the truth about why you married her, she’ll be heartbroken. Are you sure you won’t regret it?” Alex’s reply was calm: “No regrets. As long as Olivia is happy, anything I sacrifice is worth it.” My head spun, a sudden chill spreading through my entire body. I put down the phone and rushed out of the house. Outside, a heavy snow was falling. I walked aimlessly through the streets, unsure how long I wandered until, exhausted, I found a park bench and sank onto it. My mind replayed countless moments with Alex, uncontrollably, and with each memory, the pain in my heart intensified. After an indefinite time, an umbrella suddenly appeared above my head, and a low, familiar voice spoke from above. “I finally found you. Why are you sitting here in the snow, not wearing more? You’ll catch a cold.” I looked up. Alex stood there in a crisp trench coat, his deep eyes filled with concern. His acting was so flawless, I couldn’t tell if it was all a performance or if some genuine worry was mixed in. Seeing my silence, Alex’s brows furrowed deeper. He reached out and touched my cheek and forehead. “You have a fever. Are you feeling awful? Come on, let’s go home.” He forcefully put the umbrella in my hand, then scooped me up into his arms and hurried back home. Once inside, he helped me change into pajamas. “I’ll call the doctor.” I instinctively grabbed his hand. “I’m fine, just a bit chilled. Some ginger tea will do the trick.” Alex’s frown eased slightly when I spoke. “Alright, then I’ll go make you some ginger tea.” Seeing him turn to leave, I tugged at his sleeve again. I looked at him steadily and suddenly asked, “Alex, are you happy being with me?” In the original novel, Alex loved Olivia but couldn’t have her. He would be heartbroken whenever he saw Olivia and Owen together. To protect Olivia, he remained unmarried his entire life. Now that he had awakened, even if he married me only to protect Olivia, I still desperately wanted to know if he had ever been happy, even for a moment, during our four years together. Alex paused, then averted my intense gaze, letting out a small laugh. “Marrying you was my heart’s desire, of course I’m happy. Why the sudden question?” Seeing the evasiveness in his eyes, my heart tightened painfully. He was lying. Yes, how could the devoted second male lead, willing to bind himself to me for life for the sake of the heroine, ever fall for someone else? I released his sleeve and forced a smile. “Just curious, that’s all. Regardless, I hope you can find happiness.” Alex looked puzzled, then smiled and pinched my cheek. “As long as you’re by my side, I’ll be happy. Why are you so strange today? I’ll stop talking and make you ginger tea now, or you’ll truly get sick.” Watching him walk away, the smile on my face slowly vanished, and I lowered my head, feeling utterly forlorn. Even after suddenly learning the truth, I couldn’t bring myself to hate Alex. He didn’t love me, that was true, but he had genuinely been good to me. When the system brought me into this world, this body was only eight years old. Alex and I, in essence, grew up together, like childhood sweethearts. When I was sixteen, I was cornered by bullies in an alley, and he bravely protected me, injuring his arm in the process. At eighteen, my parents divorced and both started new families. No one wanted me. It was Alex who took me home, gently telling me that he could be my new pillar of support. I was an orphan in my real life, unloved by my parents in this world, living a life of pain and suppression. He was the rare warmth I found in my life. Even if the love was fake, his help was real, and for that, I was eternally grateful. A sudden, fierce pang in my chest dragged me back from my painful thoughts. I pressed my hand against my heart, knowing it was the system draining my life force. I murmured to myself, my voice surprisingly calm. “The villainess is dying. For this world, it’s probably a happy ending.” Alex no longer had to live in fear that I would turn evil and hurt his beloved. He also wouldn’t have to sacrifice his life, living a false existence with a woman he didn’t love. The next day, I was woken by agonizing cramps. I struggled to push myself up from the table but nearly fell. Thankfully, Alex, who had just entered the room, caught me in his arms. He saw my pale face and couldn’t help but frown. “You seem quite unwell. This might not just be a cold. I’m taking you to the hospital.” I shook my head. This was the system draining my life. Even at the hospital, they wouldn’t find a cause. Alex held my waist tightly, uncharacteristically firm. “You have to go.” He carried me to the hospital, his brow furrowed with worry the entire way, making me momentarily feel, yet again, that he truly cared for me. While waiting for the doctor, I saw Owen carrying Olivia into the hospital. Olivia’s forehead was covered in cold sweat, and she looked to be in great pain. Alex saw them too. His face immediately changed, and he pulled a nurse aside to ask: “What’s wrong with that young lady?” “Oh, she has sudden gastroenteritis. Her boyfriend is discussing the treatment plan with the doctor.” Alex’s gaze shifted to me. My heart clenched, but I spoke softly. “I’m much better. Go ask about Olivia. She’s my friend too.” Alex looked torn, but finally said: “Alright, her condition seems more serious. I’ll go check. If you need anything, call me, and I’ll come right back.” With that, he hurried toward Olivia. I quietly watched him and Owen fussing over Olivia, their distressed expressions filling me with envy. So this was the heroine’s charm, to captivate both the male lead and the second male lead, making them willing to give her everything. The doctor’s call number pulled me back to reality. I turned and entered the examination room. The result: multiple organ failure. Not long to live. I had anticipated it, but hearing the diagnosis firsthand still brought a wave of sadness. I sat there for a while, lost in thought, then suddenly remembered I had little time left and no one to handle my final arrangements. Alex was so busy, and he didn’t genuinely love me. I wouldn’t bother him with my passing. I hailed a taxi to the crematorium. After choosing a headstone, a staff member approached with a notebook for registration. “What’s the deceased’s name? And what’s your relationship to them?” “Amy. The headstone is for myself.” The staff member looked up, surprised, and gave me an odd look. “You’re so young, and you’re here alone? Where’s your family?” I thought of my parents, who had long disowned me, and my husband, whose heart belonged to another. After a long silence, I softly said, “I’m sorry, I don’t have any family.” The staff member said no more, processing all the paperwork for me with eyes full of sympathy. Just as I walked out of the crematorium, Alex’s call came through. He explained, “Olivia was getting an IV earlier, and I stayed with her for a bit, so I got delayed. I just went to the department looking for you and didn’t see you. Where are you? I’ll pick you up.” I said softly, “I came out to buy some fruit for Olivia. I’ll be right back.” Olivia’s voice was faintly audible on the other end. Alex quickly told me, “Okay, then hurry back and be careful.” Before I could reply, the call disconnected. I stood there for two minutes, then turned and went to a nearby print shop to get divorce papers, bought a bag of fruit, and walked towards Olivia’s hospital room. Olivia’s face lit up with surprise when she saw me. “Amy, long time no see! Oh? You brought me something? Thank you so much!” I set down the fruit, and seeing her radiant, sun-like smile, I couldn’t help but smile back. “Yes, long time no see. Are you feeling better now?” “I’m much better! All thanks to Owen and Alex taking care of me.” Olivia was so happy she tried to stand up to hug me, but she accidentally strained her still-sore stomach, cried out in pain, and bent over. Alex quickly held her. “You’re still on an IV, don’t move around.” Olivia gave an embarrassed laugh, and Alex looked utterly helpless. I lowered my eyes, a pang of bitterness in my heart. Olivia pulled me down to sit beside her, wanting to chat. The moment I sat down, a sudden sharp pain shot through my chest. I lost my balance, and my body swayed, accidentally pulling out Olivia’s IV tube. Blood immediately welled up on Olivia’s hand. Alex’s face changed drastically, and he violently shoved me away. I was caught off guard and fell to the floor, my arm hitting hard, causing cold sweat to break out on my forehead from the pain. He immediately grabbed Olivia’s hand, and seeing the blood on her hand, his eyes turned cold when he looked at me. “Amy, what do you think you’re doing?” My heart twisted as I met his accusatory gaze, but I quickly explained, “I just accidentally…” “Accidentally? How could you be so careless?” Alex cut me off, pulling Olivia outside to find a nurse to treat her hand. I endured the pain and stood up, wanting to go apologize to Olivia. I overheard Olivia mumbling, “Don’t always be so fierce. That look just now was like you wanted to eat someone. Amy clearly did it by accident.” “And she looks really unwell, maybe she’s sick. You should take good care of her. When we get back, you should apologize to her.” Alex pursed his lips, a flicker of irritation in his heart, but still said: “I know exactly what kind of person she is, Olivia. Don’t always be so kind. Otherwise, if someone bad tries to harm you, you won’t even be able to tell.” Through the thin wall, their conversation reached my ears, and my steps slowly halted. I had forgotten, I was the villainess, and everyone was already worried I would harm Olivia. My pulling out Olivia’s IV tube just now only confirmed my wicked persona. My eyes dimmed. I silently returned to the room, placed the divorce papers on the table, and wrote a sentence on a piece of paper beside it. When Alex and Olivia returned, I was no longer in the room. Olivia asked, surprised, “Where did Amy go?” Alex frowned, his gaze falling on the two extra pieces of paper on the table. In an instant, an inexplicable panic surged through him. On the table lay a divorce agreement and a blank sheet of paper, on which was written: “I’ve signed the divorce papers. I wish you a life of peace, joy, and no more loneliness.” Alex’s fingers clenched tightly, completely losing his composure. Without a word, he rushed out of the hospital room to search for me. A crowd had gathered at the hospital entrance. He pushed through, hearing hushed voices. “How tragic, she died suddenly right after leaving the hospital. So many doctors tried to save her, but they couldn’t. I heard it was multiple organ failure, nothing they could do.” “I know about this. That girl had an exam with me this morning. So young and pretty, I think her name was… Amy?” Alex’s mind exploded, everything before his eyes turning white. Faintly, he heard Olivia and Owen’s anxious shouts behind him, but he seemed not to hear them, his feet uncontrollably racing towards the emergency room. The emergency room door was ajar. Alex lunged forward, pushing the door open with a “clatter.” “Mr. Shen, please wait! You can’t go in yet!” Several nurses rushed over to stop him. But Alex was consumed by anxiety, paying them no mind. He waved his hands, pushing them aside. He stumbled to the bedside, his hands trembling as he slowly pulled back the white sheet covering the person’s face. In that instant, his body froze. “This… this isn’t Amy?” At that moment, Olivia, panting heavily, caught up from behind, speaking breathlessly: “Alex, we kept calling you because we wanted to tell you, the person who died suddenly isn’t Amy at all, it’s just someone with a similar-sounding name!” Hearing this, Alex paused slightly, then with a deep sense of guilt, he carefully covered the body with the sheet again, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry. I was too rash just now. I’ve caused you all so much trouble.” After being led out of the room, Alex secretly let out a long breath, subtly wiping away the cold sweat that had broken out on his palms. Thank goodness, it was just a false alarm. Amy was alright. Outside the hospital room, Olivia stood with her arms crossed, her brows tightly furrowed, observing him with a scrutinizing gaze. “So, what exactly is going on with you two? Why did Amy suddenly leave?” “I…” Alex’s lips moved, but for a moment, he didn’t know how to answer. Olivia’s frown deepened, her tone laced with a hint of reproach: “While I don’t know what happened between you two, or why you have such deep misunderstandings about Amy, you can’t judge a book by its cover.” “At least in front of you, she was an impeccable wife. In front of me, she was a trustworthy friend. That should be enough.” Alex’s heart felt as if it had been harshly squeezed by an invisible hand, suddenly tightening. Olivia was right. Even though Amy was the villainess in the novel, all these years, Amy had never harmed anyone. In fact, she had become friends with the heroine. As for himself, he had lived in constant fear, constantly suspecting her at the slightest hint of trouble. Alex slowly lowered his gaze. At that moment, Owen, a slight, knowing smile playing on his lips, reached out and clapped Alex on the shoulder. “Alex, you’re just tough on the outside, but soft on the inside. You’re not as heartless as you think. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have lost your composure so completely just now.” “I can’t be sure about other things, but Amy’s love for you, we onlookers could all see it clearly.” “Stop overthinking everything. Olivia has me to take care of her, so you don’t need to worry. You, my friend, need to realize your own feelings, stop being a coward, and just do what you need to do.” Owen’s smile remained, but a deeper, more profound meaning flickered in his eyes. Alex looked at Owen with a complex expression, remained silent for a moment, then slowly nodded. Owen said no more, slung an arm around Olivia’s waist, and the two turned and left. Alex stood rooted to the spot, watching their backs gradually disappear. He slowly raised his hand, looking at the crumpled piece of paper he held. When he saw the elegant handwriting on it, his heart involuntarily gave a sharp pang. She knew. She had known all along. His mind involuntarily replayed every moment he had shared with Amy. When he was sixteen, to make Amy fall for him, he had deliberately orchestrated a “hero saves the damsel in distress” scenario, rescuing her from a group of thugs. But he had accidentally broken his arm. When the doctor brought him his arm fracture report, Amy cried even harder than he did, her tears flowing endlessly. She cried apologies again and again, blaming herself for being a jinx, for bringing him bad luck. He looked at her tear-streaked face, and somehow, he felt no blame for her at all. He said, half-jokingly, “Then you’ll have to take care of me from now on.” To his surprise, Amy took him seriously, nodding earnestly. For several months after, she worked three part-time jobs every day. When she finally handed him the savings she had accumulated over months, he was both shocked and amused, laughing at her innocence, at her adorable foolishness. When she was eighteen, Amy sent him a long text message, every line filled with her love for him. When he saw the message, his heart pounded, but repeated calls to her went unanswered. A faint unease welled up in Alex’s heart. When he finally found her, Amy was curled up in a corner, crying heartbrokenly. He immediately panicked, rushing forward to pull her tightly into his embrace. She nestled in his arms, babbling about her grievances. As he listened, his heart ached as if being sliced by a knife. At that moment, he swore he would become her strongest support, giving her a warm home. Perhaps too much time had passed, so much that he had almost forgotten that at the very beginning of their story, he too had loved her with ardent passion. But how had things changed? It was probably the day he reunited with Olivia, when those long-dormant feelings of love surged forth like a tide. He could no longer control himself, unable to stop paying attention to Olivia’s every move. On one side was Amy’s fiery love, and on the other, the rekindled stirrings he felt for Olivia after so long apart. He was caught in the middle, tormented, yet he repeatedly reassured himself that he was only safeguarding Olivia’s happiness. But only now, at this moment, did he awaken as if from a dream, realizing how ridiculous he had been. His self-proclaimed deep affection was, in truth, disloyalty to two people. No wonder Amy’s eyes had held a trace of melancholy and loss these past few days, even as she forced a smile and wished him happiness. She must have been terribly sad, saddened that the only person she trusted had also deceived her. Alex felt a thousand-pound stone pressing on his heart, suffocating him. His hands trembling, he pulled out his phone and dialed his secretary. “Find out my wife’s whereabouts immediately. I need to go to her at once.”

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I’m fiercely protective of my own, no questions asked. Loyalty over rules, always. When I was a kid, if my dog got picked on, I’d grab a knife and chase the culprits three blocks for revenge. Later, at work, if my team had a dispute, I didn’t care who was right—only who won. But my boss’s wife, Vanessa, never understood this. At the company’s holiday party, she walked over, glass in hand, and pointed to one of my top salespeople. “This girl looks familiar. Yesterday, I saw her checking into a hotel with an old man in broad daylight, just to close a deal. Young people will do anything for money.” She smiled sweetly. “You should be careful. People like that often carry diseases.” The room erupted. Everyone turned on Emma, whispering insults. She tried to explain, but as an ordinary employee, her voice was drowned out. She was trembling, on the verge of a panic attack—a sign her depression was returning. I stepped in front of her, my smile calm, but my words icy. “Vanessa, you’ll apologize to Emma in front of everyone—or I’ll reveal some things you’d rather keep private, right here, right now.” … Mark, the Finance Manager, sidled over with his drink, patting my shoulder. “Sarah, don’t be so impulsive.” “Vanessa is just a straightforward person; she didn’t mean anything by it. You’re in a crucial stage of your career, with limitless potential.” “It’s not worth getting into a fight with the boss’s wife over a regular employee. It’s not worth it.” Fiona, the Admin Supervisor, chimed in, a hint of disdain in her eyes as she glanced at Emma. “Exactly, Sarah. Vanessa was just kindly reminding you. Don’t let your subordinates drag you down.” “She’s looking out for you, don’t be ungrateful.” A smug look spread across Vanessa’s face. She slowly pointed at Emma. “Manager Klein, I believe an employee who taints the company’s atmosphere like this is a liability.” “How about this, if you agree to fire her, I’ll give you a fifty percent raise.” “And I guarantee your department will receive the best resources. What do you say?” The private room fell silent for a few seconds, then a collective gasp went around. “Oh my goodness, a fifty percent raise!” “Manager Klein hit the jackpot! Just by firing one employee, she’ll earn hundreds of thousands more each year.” Brenda, the HR Supervisor, immediately stood up and walked over to Emma, her tone full of disdain. “The boss’s wife has spoken, so hurry up and leave. What are you waiting for?” “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself for doing such dirty things?” Emma looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. She choked out, “I didn’t do anything. Why are you slandering me?” But no one paid attention to her, because the dignity of a junior employee was not worth their consideration. I turned back to Vanessa, my smile completely gone, my eyes radiating an unyielding determination. “Vanessa, do you not understand me?” “Then I’ll say it again. Emma is my person, and no one touches her.” The smugness on Vanessa’s face froze. She clearly hadn’t expected me to be so disrespectful. Her face darkened. “Sarah Klein, don’t push your luck! I’m the owner’s wife of this company!” The atmosphere in the private room instantly plummeted to freezing point. Everyone fell silent. Emma cried uncontrollably. “Sarah, it’s alright…” “Don’t jeopardize your future because of me. I’m not worth it.” I glared at her. “What are you crying for? I’m here. Let’s see who dares to bully you.” Vanessa’s chest heaved with anger. She pointed at me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sarah Klein, you’re defending her so fiercely. Is there something unsavory going on between you two?” My colleagues’ gazes turned to me, filled with doubt and speculation. “Manager Klein’s department always has such good performance. So, this is how they achieve it? What an eye-opener.” “I used to wonder why all the company’s big contracts were signed by their department. Turns out it’s all through selling themselves.” I placed my hands on my hips, my voice cutting through their whispers like a blade. “You can spout nonsense, but you can’t make baseless accusations! Slander is a crime!” “Every achievement in our department is earned through everyone’s hard work and effort.” “Emma, our top sales associate, works overtime every day until late at night. Are you all blind?” “With a single baseless remark, you dismiss all her efforts and defame her character?” “Are you all out of your minds?” Vanessa hadn’t expected me to retort so loudly in such a situation. She immediately put on a show of being deeply wronged, her eyes reddening, tears starting to fall. “Manager Klein, I’m doing this for the good of the company! If this kind of behavior spreads, how will the company ever grow?” “I know you want high performance and commissions, but we can’t go against our conscience!” She cried, her face tear-streaked like a pear blossom bathed in rain. Everyone around us looked at her with sympathy. I was a founding employee of the company, building it from the ground up with the owner, Mr. Evans. Countless sleepless nights had led to its current scale. Mr. Evans still held some regard in my heart. For his sake, I forced down my anger. “Vanessa, you must have seen wrong yesterday. Emma would never do such a thing.” “She’s young, unmarried, and she still needs to establish herself in this industry.” “A single remark from you could ruin her entire life.” “I’m asking you to apologize to her in front of everyone today. Is that too much to ask?” I offered her an out, but Vanessa wouldn’t take it. As if gravely wronged, she clutched her stomach and crouched down. Crying, she wailed, “Oh, my stomach… my baby.” Just then, the private room door opened, and Mr. Evans, the owner, walked in. The moment he saw Vanessa crouched on the floor crying, his face instantly filled with alarm. “What’s wrong, darling? What happened?” Vanessa threw herself into Mr. Evans’s arms, sobbing. “Honey, I just kindly reminded Manager Klein to manage her employees properly, and she was so mean to me.” “You know how difficult it is for me to conceive at my age. How could she treat me like this…?” Mr. Evans lovingly embraced Vanessa, comforting her constantly. When he turned to look at me, his eyes were filled with anger and disappointment. “Sarah Klein, was that really necessary?” “We’ve worked side by side for over 20 years, and you’d disrespect me like this?” “You should also know, I’m almost 50 now!” “My biggest regret all these years has been not having a child of my own.” “Now that Vanessa is pregnant, I want to treat her like royalty. Why are you making things difficult for her?” Meeting his anger, I calmly said, “Mr. Evans, Emma is innocent. I have proof.” I immediately took out my tablet from my bag and opened Emma’s work schedule. It clearly stated that she was to attend the City West Industry Summit all day yesterday. Before Mr. Evans could speak, Vanessa leaned in. “Isn’t that perfect?” “The industry summit is full of rich and powerful old men. Isn’t that a great opportunity for her to make connections?” I ignored her and opened my phone. I found the official live-streaming platform for the summit and downloaded the full replay from yesterday. I fast-forwarded the playback, and the screen clearly showed the live footage from the summit. From 9 AM when the summit began until 8 PM when it ended, Emma’s figure consistently appeared in the frame. She had not left the venue for a single step the entire time. I turned off my phone and looked at Mr. Evans. “Mr. Evans, Emma simply didn’t have the time to do what Vanessa is claiming yesterday.” “Emma joined the company two years ago. In these two years, she has been diligent and hardworking.” “She’s so young, it’s terribly unfair for her to suffer such baseless accusations.” I paused, my tone firm. “Mr. Evans, I demand that Vanessa apologize to her and allow the young woman to work and live normally.” Vanessa’s face turned very ugly, her eyes darting nervously. She clutched her stomach, looking wronged. “Honey, but I really wasn’t lying.” “My memory hasn’t been good since I got pregnant, so I might have gotten the time wrong.” “But I truly saw Emma go into a hotel room with a client!” “I swear on the health of the baby in my belly, I absolutely did not deliberately slander her.” Mr. Evans held Vanessa even tighter, looking at me with great impatience. “I trust Vanessa’s character. She’s not the type of person who would deliberately slander someone.” “Besides, there’s no smoke without fire. If Emma really had no issues, why would she be misunderstood?” “Sarah Klein, I am now telling you, as the Chairman of the company, this matter ends here!” “This employee, Emma, cannot stay with the company.” “You are to dismiss her immediately, right now!” “Otherwise, you’re out too!” Seeing Mr. Evans’s outburst, the people around us quickly chimed in. “Mr. Evans is right. Such a controversial employee definitely shouldn’t stay with the company.” “Manager Klein, just listen to Mr. Evans. Don’t insist any longer, it’s not worth it.” “Exactly, losing your own job for an employee is too costly.” I looked at Emma’s tear-reddened eyes, a pang of sadness in my heart. My department, though small in number, was comprised of elite, hand-picked individuals. We supported each other in this unfamiliar city. Having worked hard together for so many years, we were like family. Emma was the youngest in the department, and also the most dedicated. I couldn’t stand by and watch her be slandered like this. I looked at Vanessa coldly, giving her one last chance. “Vanessa, the young woman grew up in a single-parent family.” “Her father abandoned them for another woman after he became successful. Her mother’s health isn’t good, so she’s had a very tough life.” “I advise you to stop. Admit your mistake now, and it will be a good deed for the baby in your belly.” But Vanessa again clutched her stomach, her brows furrowed. She said painfully, “Honey, my stomach hurts so much.” “The baby seems to know I’m being bullied…” Mr. Evans immediately became anxious, roaring at me, “Sarah Klein! What are you waiting for? Fire Emma now!” “If anything happens to Vanessa and the baby, I’m not done with you!” I looked at Mr. Evans’s anxious face, then at Vanessa’s feigned expression of suffering. The last flicker of hesitation in my heart vanished. A cold smile played on my lips. “Alright, since there’s nowhere left to retreat, I won’t retreat at all.” Vanessa turned and shouted, “Where’s the HR Supervisor? Get over here!”

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