When I was first brought back to the wealthy Sterling family, the fake heiress, Chloe, just pouted slightly. My parents immediately set three rules for me. Don’t eat at the table. Let people think you’re the maid. Don’t even dream about company shares. My parents warned me repeatedly: “Everything in this house belongs to Chloe. You won’t get a cent!” Grandpa and Grandma protected Chloe: “Chloe will marry a man who takes our name. She is the successor of the Sterling family!” Later, my severe depression relapsed, and I slit my wrists. But my resentment was too heavy, and I got a second chance at life. This time, just as I opened my eyes in the warm amniotic fluid, I heard a familiar voice. Grandma gasped: “Honey… I… I think I’m pregnant!” Chapter 1 As soon as Grandma said those words, Grandpa and I were both stunned. Wait, how did I reincarnate into Grandma’s womb? I looked down in shock… there was an extra little appendage! In this life, I was reborn as my grandparents’ “miracle baby”—the undeniable, golden heir of the Sterling empire?! Grandma was shocked too. She immediately called the family doctor for a full checkup. Even the doctor was astounded: “Mrs. Sterling is indeed pregnant. Mr. Sterling, you are truly… vigorous for your age!” “And it’s very likely a boy. The Sterling line is thriving!” Hearing it was a boy, Grandpa waved his hand and decided to keep the baby immediately. But my “Dad,” Richard, standing nearby, changed his face instantly. “Dad, Mom absolutely cannot have this baby!” “Mom is nearly sixty. How can she handle the strain of pregnancy? I’m thinking of her health!” He sounded righteous, but having been his daughter in my past life, I knew his little schemes better than anyone. Richard was just afraid of having a little brother to fight for the inheritance. “Mom,” Vanessa, my “Mother,” chimed in urgently. “You’re almost sixty. Getting pregnant now… the entire Manhattan elite circle will laugh at us!” Grandma glared at them. “In all of New York, who dares to laugh at the Sterlings?” “Your father and I have decided. You have no right to interfere!” Actually, it wasn’t surprising they wanted to keep me. Grandma spent nine figures a year on maintenance and health. Years of luxury made her look like she was in her thirties. And they were already dissatisfied with Richard, their useless only son. Naturally, they wanted a “do-over.” Seeing his objections ignored, Richard’s eyes turned vicious when he looked at Grandma. When he pulled Vanessa outside to whisper, I went on high alert. These two had 800 evil schemes combined. They wouldn’t let Grandma give birth smoothly! Sure enough, that night, Vanessa brought Grandma a bowl of “Special Tonic” with a fawning smile. “Mom, Richard and I stewed this specially for you. Pregnancy is hard on the body, you need to nourish yourself.” Grandma didn’t suspect anything and was about to drink. But I smelled something strange in the tonic. Something was wrong! Just as Grandma brought the spoon to her lips, I grabbed the umbilical cord and kicked her belly hard! “Ouch!” Grandma felt the pain and naturally put down the bowl. Her wrinkle-free hand gently stroked her belly, her voice helpless. “My little ancestor, stop torturing Mommy.” Since Grandma stopped drinking, I let go of the cord. But Vanessa wouldn’t give up. She picked up the bowl again. “Mom, drink it while it’s hot. Once the baby gets nutrition, he won’t kick anymore.” But as soon as Grandma lifted the bowl, I repeated my trick, making her belly ache again and again. After a few rounds, Grandma looked at Vanessa with suspicion. “Seems like the Little One doesn’t want me to drink this. Vanessa, did you add something extra?” Vanessa’s face turned pale. She tried to take the bowl away. But Grandma held her back and called the private doctor to test it. The doctor found a lethal dose of abortifacient drugs in the tonic! Grandpa rushed over, his face dark as thunder. He dragged Richard, who was waiting outside, into the room and kicked him hard. “Richard Sterling! Your mother just got pregnant, and you two are already plotting? I’ve spoiled you too much!” “The Northwest branch just opened. You and your wife pack your bags and go there! Get out of my sight!” Chapter 2 Although my parents didn’t want to leave New York, Grandpa was the true ruler of the Sterling family. The couple was shipped off to the Northwest overnight, but the fake heiress, Chloe, stayed. After all, although Chloe had no blood relation, she was still the raised granddaughter of the Sterlings. But Grandpa and Grandma didn’t know that my parents kept in close contact with Chloe. They instructed her to find a chance to get rid of me. Chloe lived up to expectations. Every day, she acted like a sweet angel, massaging Grandma’s back and legs. After three months, she had coaxed my grandparents into letting their guard down. One day, Grandma invited other wealthy madams for afternoon tea. As she prepared to go downstairs, I suddenly felt a chill. I saw Chloe’s strange expression. The next second, I saw the stairs gleaming unnaturally. It was Chloe! She secretly waxed the stairs heavily. She wanted Grandma to fall from the second floor and miscarry me! No! I won’t let this family of three succeed! I came back to life for revenge! Just as Grandma was about to step down, I dove into the uterus and head-butted hard. “Ouch!” Grandma stopped in her tracks, clutching her belly. “Not even a month left and he’s already torturing me. What a little ancestor.” Although complaining, her expression was full of love. Although Grandma stopped, the nanny following her took a step. She stepped on the slippery stairs and tumbled down! The noise alerted Grandpa on the second floor. Grandma realized something was wrong. She crouched down and saw the thick wax on the stairs. Grandpa and Grandma were veterans of family feuds. One look from her, and Grandpa understood. Grandpa immediately ordered a check of the villa’s surveillance. Sure enough, Chloe was seen waxing the floor at night! Grandpa’s face turned icy. “Chloe, what are your intentions?” “You aren’t even related to the Sterlings. Raising you for ten years was already charity. And you try to kill my son?” “A vicious person like you doesn’t deserve to stay. Go back to your orphanage!” Grandpa ordered the bodyguards to drag Chloe out. Chloe turned pale, clinging to the door frame. “Grandpa, Grandma, I didn’t mean to… I just wanted to help clean…” “Don’t you love Chloe the most? Don’t kick me out…” At this moment, Grandma was helped down the stairs. Her eyes were cold as she slapped Chloe hard. “Tell your parents, no one touches the child in my belly!” I did a somersault in the womb for Grandma’s words. Worthy of a matriarch! She saw through the essence of things so quickly! Just as the bodyguards were about to throw Chloe out, the front door opened. Richard and Vanessa rushed in, dusty from travel, shielding Chloe behind them. “Mom, Dad! Chloe might not be blood-related, but she is family!” “We won’t be separated from our daughter! And we won’t allow you to kick her out!” Seeing her parents, Chloe finally had support. She looked at my grandparents with teary eyes: “Grandpa, Grandma, I really didn’t mean to…” But this fake weakness might fool my parents, not the old foxes of the Sterling family. They saw through the family’s malice. Grandpa sneered. “Fine. Since you can’t be separated, then get out together!” “From today on, without my permission, none of you step foot in this villa!” Chapter 3 Although my parents didn’t want to leave, they were kicked out of the most luxurious villa in the Hamptons. Grandpa was the absolute authority. My parents had no say. After they left, my peaceful life finally began. Grandpa and Grandma cherished this “miracle baby.” They hired the best private doctors and donated eight figures to temples for blessings. Before I was born, truckloads of luxury baby gear arrived. Hermès blankets were used as my floor mats. Finally, amidst their eager anticipation, I was born. A healthy baby boy. But just after Grandma gave birth, my parents and Chloe knocked on the door. Richard’s face was full of sincerity: “Dad, I heard Mom gave birth. We came to see her.” “It was all a misunderstanding before. Seeing Mom and my little brother safe, I’m relieved!” “Being away from you guys… as a son, I was so worried!” After all, he was their son, and he spoke softly. Grandpa sighed and let them in, even inviting them for dinner. But I knew it wasn’t that simple. So the moment they entered, I was on high alert. I was a newborn, weak and vulnerable. Harming me was easy. After dinner, Chloe went to the piano to play for my grandparents. Richard and Vanessa used this chance to sneak into the nursery. Seeing my little face, Richard’s eyes darkened. “What are you? Daring to steal my inheritance? I’ll send you to reincarnate right now!” Vanessa approached slowly with a handkerchief soaked in chloroform. “Everything in the Sterling family belongs to us. Little bastard, time to go!” I was frantic internally, but my body was too weak to move. Just as I wanted to cry out to alert the adults… Vanessa pressed the handkerchief over my nose and mouth! Confirming I was unconscious, Richard opened a suitcase and threw me in. “Throw this little beast into the ocean with the suitcase, and I’ll be at peace!” “Even if Mom and Dad find out later, they won’t blame their only son!” After stuffing me in, they signaled Chloe and prepared to leave. But just as they grabbed the door handle, Grandpa walked over. “Don’t leave. Stay the night.” This was an olive branch. Usually, they would have accepted immediately. But Richard, desperate to dump me in the ocean, panicked. “No, Dad. Mom is still recovering. Let her rest.” Saying that, they rushed to drag the suitcase out. But at that moment, a loud cry erupted from the suitcase! Grandpa’s face changed instantly! Chapter 4 Grandpa’s expression turned cold. He grabbed the handle of the suitcase. “Richard, what is inside?” Richard’s face turned pale. He stammered. “Dad, it’s just… some old junk we left here. I’m taking it out to throw away…” I screamed even louder. Grandma ran over, disregarding her recovery, and snatched the suitcase. When she unzipped it and found me inside, she almost fainted. “This is my child! My baby! Richard, you dare harm your brother!” Seeing this, my parents looked at each other, confused. They chloroformed me. How was I awake? Actually, thanks to my ability to hold my breath. Knowing Vanessa had chloroform, I held my breath and acted. I fought for my chance to live. After checking the surveillance, Grandpa’s face was dark as night. He slapped Richard hard. “Richard! This is your brother! You wanted to throw him in the ocean? Did a dog eat your conscience?!” Seeing the plan exposed, Richard dropped the filial act and tore off his mask. “Dad, you’re senile! This kid shouldn’t exist!” “I am the only heir to the Sterling family! You created an obstacle for me!” “Just kill him now! I’ll take care of you and Mom until you die!” “What nonsense are you spouting?” Grandma’s face changed. Ignoring her weakness, she grabbed a golf club and smashed it onto Richard’s back. “Richard, are you human?” “Listen to me! If anything happens to my son today, none of you three will escape!” The atmosphere froze. Only when the private doctor confirmed I was safe did Grandma relax, carrying me upstairs. Grandpa’s anger didn’t subside. “Richard, you crossed the line!” “You claim to be the heir, but can you even run the company?” “Don’t think I don’t know. You and your wife hold GM titles but only shop and party! You are leeches! Fine! From today on, you’re fired! Get out!” “Dad, what?” Richard finally panicked. “You’re kicking me and Vanessa out of the company? Dad, you’re too biased!” “That brat was just born, and you want him to take over? What about me?” “Biased?” Grandpa slapped him again. “This is punishment for your lack of conscience! All three of you, get out!”

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I was trapped in an unbreakable loop—executed for murder in every life. In the first life, I was killing a fish in the kitchen. As the knife fell, the surveillance footage showed the fish turning into my neighbor’s head. In the second life, I was cutting a steak in the dining room. As the knife pierced the beef, the footage showed me stabbing a stranger’s heart. In every life, I was sentenced to death row with irrefutable evidence. Cameras don’t lie. Evidence doesn’t lie. But my memory doesn’t lie either. What the hell is going on? With this question, I entered my third life. To find the truth, I chose to livestream everything. But as the countdown ended, there was a knock on the door again. “Honey, look! The first catch of the ice fishing season. I waited by the ice hole before dawn, my hands are freezing.” Gavin put the bucket by my feet, water splashing onto the floor. “Let’s pan-sear it for dinner. I love it when you cook fish.” “You’re so good at it. You need to use some force to handle it, wild ones are tough to kill.” Usually, I would agree without hesitation. But now, looking at his eager smile, I felt a chill run down my spine. This was the third time I stood before this bucket of fish. In the first life, I cooked the fish that night. But when I served it, Gavin looked at me with terror. He shoved cash and a passport into my hands, telling me to run. Outside, the police were waiting with an arrest warrant. In the police interrogation room, the footage showed me holding a knife, gutting my neighbor with practiced ease. I was covered in blood, but my expression was as calm as if I were gutting a fish. But I remembered clearly: I never left the house that day. Evidence was solid. I was sentenced to lethal injection. In the second life, traumatized, I didn’t dare kill the fish. I made an excuse to keep it as a pet. Gavin came home, shocked and angry. “Liv, do you even care about me? About this family?” “I work myself to death so you can enjoy life at home… and now, I just want a home-cooked meal, is that so hard?” Five years ago, my parents died, leaving me a massive inheritance and a listed company. I was devastated. Gavin stepped up, managing the company and our crumbling home. I was grateful. Dependent. When I recovered and wanted to return to work, he refused gently, saying he “didn’t want me to stress.” But then he would complain about the burden, like now. We fought. To apologize, he took me out for steak. I saw the neighbor’s lights on and thought the crisis was averted. So I agreed. But as soon as we got home, the doorbell rang. Police. Arrest warrant. The time was exactly the same as the first life. This time, the footage showed me stabbing a waiter with a steak knife. But I was with Gavin the whole time! When I asked Gavin to testify, he just shook his head, saying the evidence was irrefutable. Now, it’s the third life. “What are you thinking about?” Gavin’s voice pulled me back. I looked at him, zero trust left in my heart. “I’m not feeling well. Let the housekeeper do it.” Gavin objected immediately. His usual gentleness vanished. “No way. Every year, you cook the first catch. It’s tradition.” “Unless… you don’t love me anymore!” Before I could answer, he picked up the bucket and dragged me to the kitchen. He slammed the fish and the knife in front of me. His grip on my wrist was bruising. “Be a good wife, honey. The fish is yours! You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, right?” “I’ll be waiting for your delicious fish tonight.” Chapter 2 He locked the door from the outside. Only me and the flopping fish left in the kitchen. I looked at the cold steel of the knife, trembling uncontrollably. In this life, I must find the truth. I rushed to the study, dug out a hidden micro-camera, and pinned it inside my collar with shaking hands. The live feed was encrypted and pushed directly to a Twitch channel I set up. As a double insurance, I started an Instagram Live on my phone, camera facing me. Title: Truth Record: I Don’t Believe in Telekinetic Murder. Only then did I feel a sliver of safety. Based on the previous lives, the police always arrived at a fixed time. So, if I survive that specific time, can I break the loop? Knife kills neighbor. Fork kills waiter. Does that mean if I do nothing, touch nothing sharp, eat nothing… I’ll be safe? I moved the fish tank to the corner, far away from the knife. Seconds ticked by like hours. Hunger gnawed at me, but I endured. Evening came. Gavin returned. He saw the fish swimming happily in the tank. His face darkened instantly. “Liv, you…” With memories of two lives, I knew what was coming. I extended my hand before he could explode. While setting up the camera, I had accidentally scratched my hand on the desk. Perfect. I lowered my eyes, making my voice raspy and pathetic: “I’m sorry. I wanted to cook for you, but I hurt my hand. I really couldn’t do it today…” Gavin stared at the wound. His anger faded, replaced by a complex look I couldn’t read. He sighed, softening his tone. “How could you be so careless?” “Let’s go out to eat! To cheer you up. Steakhouse?” “NO!” I screamed, startling myself. Steak? No. I refuse to be executed again. Meeting Gavin’s suspicious gaze, I forced a smile: “My… my hand hurts, and I feel sick. No appetite. You eat. I’ll rest.” Gavin studied me for a long time, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll order takeout.” He ordered. I breathed a sigh of relief. I hid in the bedroom, door ajar, listening intently to the living room. The “Death Time” was approaching. My heart pounded like a drum. Suddenly, Gavin shouted from the living room: “Honey, come look! The fish… the fish looks dead!” My heart seized. I burst out of the bedroom. Fish dead? At this exact time? A sense of doom washed over me. First life, fish dead, neighbor dead… If the fish is dead now, the neighbor… I threw myself at the front door, pounding on my neighbor’s door frantically. Silence inside. Fear drowned me. Did the neighbor… die again? Chapter 3 Just as despair was about to consume me, the door clicked open. Dr. Miller stood there, hair wet, wrapped in a bathrobe, looking confused. “Mrs. Liv? What’s wrong? I was in the shower.” He’s alive. My legs gave out. I almost collapsed. Relief washed over me, followed by confusion. I turned around and met Gavin’s probing eyes. He stood at our door, frowning. “Honey, why did you rush to find Dr. Miller? What’s wrong?” My mind went blank. I blurted out: “I… I suddenly remembered Dr. Miller is a doctor. I wanted him to see if the fish could be saved… dead fish isn’t fresh…” Silence. Dr. Miller is a cardiologist. Not a vet. Gavin’s eyes darkened. I realized my mistake and quickly added: “Sorry, Dr. Miller. I was panicked. Forgot you aren’t a vet…” Dr. Miller smiled tolerantly and waved it off. Gavin seemed to accept it. Back home, exhaustion and hunger hit me hard. I went back to the bedroom, intending to wait out the dangerous hour. But my eyelids grew heavy, and I fell asleep. Ding-Dong! The doorbell pierced my dream like a knife! I woke up gasping. I checked my phone—the time was exactly the moment the police arrived in previous lives! It’s happening! I scrambled out of bed, screaming: “Don’t open the door!” Too late. Gavin stood at the foyer, hand on the handle. He looked back at me weirdly, then opened the door. Chapter 4 Outside stood a young man in a delivery uniform, holding a food bag. Not the police. I froze, weak with relief, holding onto the wall. Not police… Is it different this time? Did I… dodge it? Gavin took the food, closed the door, and walked to me with concern. “Honey, what’s wrong with you lately? So paranoid. Are you stressed? Should we see a doctor?” I didn’t know how to explain this absurdity. I just nodded wearily. The box opened. The aroma of my favorite dish wafted out. My stomach growled loudly in the quiet room. Awkward. Gavin smiled. He pulled me to the table and put chopsticks in my hand. “See? Starving. Eat. You’ll get hypoglycemia.” I looked at the chopsticks. Bamboo. Round tips. Impossible to be a “murder weapon.” Plus, I had the camera. The stream was on. Most importantly, I was dizzy with hunger. Maybe… I’m really safe? Under the temptation of food and safety, my defenses crumbled. I ate voraciously. Gavin didn’t eat. He sat opposite me, watching quietly. His smile was gentle… almost too gentle. A strange unease rose in me, but I ignored it. I put down the chopsticks, satisfied. Ding-Dong. The doorbell rang again. This time, I wasn’t panicked. Just confused. Didn’t the delivery guy leave? Gavin went to open it. When the door opened, the blood drained from my face. Two stern-faced police officers stood there. One held a familiar arrest warrant. “Mrs. Liv, you are suspected of murdering the delivery man, Sam. Come with us.” Impossible! I was eating just now! The delivery guy left! And the weapon? I only used chopsticks! No knife! One officer held up a tablet. On the screen: I stood at the door, taking the food from the delivery guy. The next second, “I” suddenly attacked, gripping the bamboo chopsticks with both hands, stabbing them into the guy’s neck and chest repeatedly! Blood sprayed on “my” face and clothes. “I” felt nothing, just stabbing mechanically until he stopped moving. The background was my foyer. Timestamp: 10 minutes ago—when I was eating in the dining room! I turned to Gavin, grabbing his arm with my last strength. “Gavin! Speak! You took the delivery, right? How could I kill him?” Gavin slowly pried my fingers off, one by one. His gentle smile was gone. No anger, no fear. Just a bottomless calm. He looked me in the eye and shook his head slowly. “Liv… I… I never thought you would do this.” His voice was full of pain and disbelief. “The evidence… is right there. I can’t… cover for you.” That sentence again. Exactly the same as the last life. As the police stepped forward to cuff me, I glanced at the stream chat. Suddenly, I threw my head back and laughed. “Hahahaha… so that’s it! I was such a fool!” Chapter 5 The police frowned, thinking I snapped. Gavin looked worried and heartbroken. Only I knew this laugh was the despair of awakening. The resolve to tear off the mask at any cost. The chat was scrolling like crazy: 【WTF? Is this a reality show? Too real…】 【Her expression… that’s a real breakdown. Not acting.】 【Fake cops! No badges! Wrong uniforms!】 【Holy sht. If this is real, the husband is gaslighting her in real-time!】* 【Hypnosis! Definitely hypnosis! Look at her eyes, zoning in and out!】 【Recording this. If this is scripted, I’ll eat my keyboard!】 Hypnosis… The word struck my memory like lightning. Gavin, my husband. Graduated from a top Psychology program. Certified in Clinical Hypnosis. Deep in his drawer, locked away, was a book: Introduction to Deep Hypnosis and Suggestion. I tried to read it once; he took it away, saying it was “too dense.” I remembered now. Senior year, when my parents died, I was on the brink of collapse. Insomnia. Hallucinations. It was him. Holding my hand, using that low, steady voice to guide me. To make me “see” a peaceful sea. I slept soundly. I never thought the hand that pulled me out of darkness would push me into the abyss. “Telekinetic murder…” I muttered the stream title. The laughter stopped. Clarity returned. I turned sharply, my gaze like a blade, slashing at the “police.” No more fear. Only scrutiny. Their stance lacked the rigidity of real cops. They kept glancing at Gavin, seeking approval. And their faces. When I stopped being intimidated by the “Police” uniform, their features became clear. The tall one with high cheekbones… I saw him. Last autumn, outside Gavin’s office. He was bowing to Gavin. Gavin introduced him as “Little Wang from Project Department.” The chubby one… I saw him in the Finance Department’s group photo. These weren’t cops! They were Gavin’s minions! Psychology major. Hypnotist. CEO. These identities merged into a terrifying truth. “Heh… hehe…” My laugh was low and venomous. I looked at Gavin. Thirteen years of knowing him. Five years of marriage. I thought he was my rock. I gave him everything. Even when he pushed me out of company affairs “for my protection,” I only felt grateful. Turns out, all the gentleness was anesthetic. All the complaints were weights to control my guilt. All the “for your own good” was to make me obedient, dependent… the perfect scapegoat! He wasn’t thinking about our future. He was designing “accidents” and “crimes” to erase me. So he could inherit everything legally. And play the grieving widower. The person beside my pillow was the grim reaper.

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Three years into treating Julian Vance’s teeth, I got pregnant with his child. The problem? He always thought I was a man. To find the woman from “that night,” he practically turned New York City upside down. When he came to me with another toothache, I asked casually, “Mr. Vance, if you find her, are you planning to keep her as a sugar baby?” He rinsed his mouth and sneered. “Keep her? I’m going to ruin her.” My hand shook so hard I almost dropped the drill. I handed in my resignation the next day and ran for my life. Three months later, I was settling into a small coastal town in Maine. I was struggling to follow a pregnancy recipe for bone broth when a figure pressed against my back. A large, hot hand covered my slight baby bump. Julian’s voice whispered in my ear: “Dr. Sam, didn’t I tell you?” “If I catch her… she’s finished.” Chapter 1 When the morning sickness got so bad I was nearly dehydrated, my anxiety peaked. I didn’t dare go to a hospital. Because a month ago, the person who spent the night with NYC’s business tycoon, Julian Vance, at The Pierre… was me. Julian had hired half the private investigators in the city. I had to ask a friend from another state to mail me a pregnancy test anonymously. Two red lines. Bright red. I’m screwed. I flushed the test down the toilet, destroying the evidence. Usually, my baggy lab coat and chest binder helped me pass as a man. But if my belly started growing, how could I hide it? I collapsed on the sofa in the staff lounge for half an hour until the door was shoved open. Julian Vance walked in. A bespoke suit accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs, but his handsome face was dark as thunder. His assistant followed, familiar with the routine: “Dr. Sam, Mr. Vance’s tooth is acting up again.” I cursed internally but plastered on my professional fake smile. After all, I was just an employee, and Julian was the clinic’s biggest investor. He lay on the dental chair, loosening his tie irritably. “Be gentle. It hurts like hell.” I turned on the overhead light. Under the glare, his flawless face looked a bit pale. “Pulpitis. Acute flare-up. You need a root canal.” He grunted and closed his eyes. The anesthesia kicked in. I started working. The room was silent, save for the clicking of instruments. Suddenly, he opened his eyes. “Dr. Sam, did you lose anything at The Pierre recently?” My probe almost punctured his gums. “No. Why do you ask, Mr. Vance?” He caught my split-second stiffness and smirked coldly. “I found something interesting.” He signaled his assistant to hand over a velvet pouch. Inside was a small, iris-shaped ear stud. I bought it with my first scholarship in college. Because of my “male” persona, I never wore jewelry. I only kept this small stud in my right ear cartilage, hidden by my hair. That night… was too chaotic. I was about to relax when he added slowly, “This is a custom piece from a niche designer. One of a kind.” Cold sweat trickled down my back. I forced myself to stay calm. “Just an earring. Probably a knockoff.” “Is it?” He stared at me, eyes sharp. “I have my team checking every custom jewelry record in the city.” I looked at him and tested the waters. “Mr. Vance, you’re going to such lengths… if you find her, are you planning a sugar baby arrangement?” “Sugar baby?” Julian looked like he heard the joke of the century. He curled his lip, staring at me gloomily. “A woman who dares to scheme against me…” “I’ll make her wish she were dead.” Chapter 2 I’ve been working at this elite dental clinic for three years. Three years ago, my dad’s company went bankrupt, leaving an eight-figure debt. He jumped off a roof. He left me and my mom with nothing but debt collectors. To pay them off, I gave up my residency at a public hospital and accepted an offer from this private clinic. High salary, high commission. The price? I had to be a “man.” In this prejudiced industry, male doctors were more easily accepted by the ultra-rich clientele. Looking at the astronomical debt, I agreed without hesitation. I cut my hair, wore a binder, and kept my mask glued to my face. I became “Dr. Sam.” Before me, Julian had fired five dentists. He was picky and impossible. The director pushed me forward as a last resort. Surprisingly, I lasted the longest. We coexisted peacefully. I saw him as a walking ATM; he saw me as a reliable mechanic. Until that absurd gala a month ago. The next morning, I woke up in a messy king-sized bed. The man who usually lay in my dental chair was lying naked next to me. Terrified, I grabbed my clothes and ran. I thought it was a one-time accident with no consequences. But of all the times… I got pregnant. The next morning, I was vomiting my guts out. My assistant’s relentless calls dragged me back to the clinic. Julian was sitting in my office, face black. I took a deep breath and walked in. “Mr. Vance, sorry. Family emergency.” He looked up, eyes dark enough to drown in. He didn’t believe a word. He stood up and grabbed my arm, his grip crushing. “Do you know how long I’ve waited?” Julian had a temper. And since I was a “man,” he had no reservations. I stumbled. In the struggle, his hand brushed against my chest. Through the thin shirt… the softness was undeniable. We both froze. I realized I forgot my binder because the morning sickness was too severe. I was instantly sober. Julian frowned, confusion flashing in his eyes. “What… is that? So soft?” I quickly pulled a hot water bottle from my jacket and held it up. “Stomach ache. Using it for heat.” The water bag sloshed. It felt similar enough. He seemed to buy it, but his face remained dark. Back in the lounge, my legs gave out. My phone buzzed. Bank notification. [Deposit: $50,000. Bonus.] With my savings, I was this close to paying off the debt. I slumped in the chair, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t live in fear anymore. My belly would grow. I couldn’t hide it. The only option was to run. Chapter 3 From that day on, I started “Quiet Quitting.” “Mr. Vance, I think to match your status, we should replace this wisdom tooth with solid gold.” Julian’s face went blank. “…” After the treatment, he blocked me in the office. “Dr. Sam, have I been too lenient with you?” I spun in my chair, eyebrow raised. “If you’re unhappy, Mr. Vance, feel free to switch doctors.” Silence. Julian stared at me, anger burning in his eyes. I prayed he would fire me on the spot. But he took a deep breath and hissed through his teeth. “I. Will. Not.” Then he stormed out. Great. Another day of successfully pissing off Julian Vance. I wanted him to think I was unethical and hopeless. I wanted him to fire me so I could get the severance pay. But he wouldn’t crack. I escalated. I claimed equipment failure. I claimed “bad vibes.” I turned the clinic upside down. The director lectured me daily. I ignored him. Julian’s face got darker every day. One day, after I suggested pulling all his teeth for dentures, he stormed in. I was vomiting over the sink, pale as a ghost. He marched up and grabbed my wrist. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Dizzy from being shaken, I couldn’t hold it back. I threw up all over his six-figure custom suit. Blargh. Awkward silence. Julian’s face was darker than the bottom of a pot. I raised a weak hand. “I swear… I didn’t vomit because you’re disgusting…” He looked at the mess on his chest, then at my pale face. His anger faded into something complex. “Go to the hospital,” he said, voice low. My heart stopped. “No!” I refused instantly. “Just ate something bad. I’ll rest.” Go to the hospital? And expose the baby? No thanks. But Julian was stubborn. “You look terrible. Go check it out.” His tone allowed no refusal. I was sweating bullets. Just then, my friend’s voice message played loudly over the Bluetooth speaker. “Sam! Did you get the abortion pills I mailed? That stuff is dangerous, think it over!” Chapter 4 Dead silence. My heart pounded so loud it was terrifying. It’s over. I looked up at Julian stiffly. The complex emotion on his face vanished, replaced by icy scrutiny. “Abortion pills?” He tasted the words, cold and sharp. “Dr. Sam, how many surprises do you have for me?” My brain spun, desperately looking for an excuse. “It’s for a friend!” I shouted. “She… she met a scumbag. She had no choice!” I even squeezed out two tears, looking at him with practiced pity. Julian narrowed his eyes, locking onto me, judging my truthfulness. After a long time, he smiled. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that so? You’re so helpful.” He took out his phone and called his assistant right in front of me. “Check Dr. Sam’s social circle. Specifically female friends. See who’s in ‘trouble’.” He hung up and pocketed the phone. “Dr. Sam, I better not find anything.” “Or I don’t mind making your ‘friend’ disappear with you.” He took off the soiled jacket, threw it in the trash, and walked out. When the door closed, I collapsed. Run. I have to run now. That night, I packed my bags and took a taxi to the station. I bought a ticket for the first train heading north. Maine. No destination, just away from Julian Vance. As the train moved, watching the city lights fade, I finally exhaled. Goodbye, Julian.

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One week before our wedding, my fiancé Chase got into a car accident while protecting me on the way to pick up my dress. When he woke up, all memories of me were replaced by his childhood sweetheart, Lyla. When I rushed to the hospital, he was holding Lyla, kissing her head. Seeing me, his eyes were distant. “Excuse me, who are you?” Red-eyed, I sat by his side and recounted our love story. He listened, then smiled gently. “Sorry, Miss Sierra. I remember all of that, but the woman in those memories isn’t you.” Tears fell instantly. I stumbled out of the room. Downstairs, a wave of indignation made me turn back. Just as I was about to push the door open, the conversation inside froze me in place. “Chase, are you feeling guilty? You promised to be my boyfriend for a week.” Chase laughed. “Lyla, I never go back on my word.” A week later, Chase regained his memory and wanted to fulfill our engagement. I held my new fiancé’s arm and asked him with a confused look: “Excuse me, who are you?” Chapter 1 I stood outside the door in disbelief, tears drying on my face. I didn’t even notice the doctor standing next to me. “Are you family? Why don’t you go in?” Chase saw me, and a flash of panic crossed his eyes. “She’s not family.” “Miss Sierra, I don’t know where you heard about my love story with Lyla, but please stop disturbing us.” His hands were tightly clasping Lyla’s. When Chase felt guilty, he would subconsciously squeeze his hands. That confirmed it. He was lying. Beside him, Lyla smiled triumphantly. “Miss Sierra, stop staring at someone else’s boyfriend. It makes you look cheap.” I bit my lip, trembling slightly. Lyla was the only other woman in Chase’s life besides me. Chase’s frat brothers all thought she would be the future Mrs. Sterling. Until I appeared. Now, one week before our wedding, they decided to play me for a fool. My voice was hoarse. “What about our wedding?” Chase looked confused. “That’s clearly my wedding with Lyla. What does it have to do with you?” I looked up sharply, staring at Chase in disbelief. Seeing my red eyes, Chase hesitated. Lyla’s eyes darkened. She squeezed Chase’s hand, a silent reminder. Chase avoided my gaze, twisting the ring on his finger. My eyes lit up. “The ring on your hand! It still has our names engraved on it!” Chase stiffened, trying to hide his hand. I rushed forward, my hands shaking, trying to pull the ring off to verify. But Chase wouldn’t let go. My tears fell onto his hand. His grip loosened instantly. I frantically turned the ring to check the inscription inside. I froze. Lyla laughed and took the ring back. “Sierra, look closely. It’s our initials, not yours!” So, he didn’t want to let go because he was afraid I’d find out the ring had already been swapped. Tears wouldn’t stop flowing. I muttered to myself. “What about the invitations? You can’t fake invitations.” Five hundred invitations. I watched him handwrite them for three whole months. He, who had a strict schedule, broke his rules to stay up late for me. Watching his dark circles deepen, I was heartbroken. Chase just hugged me, burying his face in my neck, smiling. “Sierra, I want to be involved in every detail of our wedding. I want to give you the best.” I looked up, sobbing. “Chase, deny all you want, but the guests won’t lie!” Chase looked at me coldly. “Seems like you won’t give up.” He took out his phone and dialed a number in front of me. The ringing sound terrified me. It connected. It was Mr. Whitman, our officiant. “Chase, you’re finally awake. is the wedding with Lyla still on?” Chase smiled. “Uncle Whitman, thanks for asking. Everything is on schedule.” “Good, good. I’m waiting for your wedding wine.” My eyes widened. I couldn’t hear anything anymore. It felt like everything in the past was just a dream I had. Mr. Whitman was a legend in the industry, known for his happy marriage. Everyone wanted him as an officiant. But he hated doing it. Chase begged him for a whole month. I saw him dragging his tired body to Mr. Whitman’s house many times. I tried to stop him. “Chase, I don’t care about that. Anyone will do.” But he pinched my cheek, eyes full of seriousness. “Sierra, I hope we last forever.” Looking at the evidence piling up before me. I had to believe it. From the beginning, the wedding Chase was preparing… wasn’t for me. I couldn’t stay any longer. I turned and left. Chapter 2 Chase’s voice came from behind. “Wait. We’re being discharged too. We’ll give you a ride.” I didn’t look back. “Not on the way.” I tried to keep walking, but Chase grabbed me, brooking no refusal. His familiar scent made me tremble. “I’m not comfortable letting a girl go back alone. I’ll drive you.” He dragged me downstairs. Seeing the car, I instinctively walked to the passenger seat. He blocked me, looking at me distantly. “Miss Sierra, this is my girlfriend’s exclusive seat.” Just last week, Chase told me: “Sierra, you get carsick. This seat is yours forever. No one else sits here.” I swallowed the bitterness and walked to the back seat silently. After getting in, I was about to tell him the address. But Lyla started reminiscing with Chase about the past, giving me no chance to speak. I used to be jealous of Lyla. Because Chase never said no to her. But seeing my jealousy, Chase laughed out loud. “I grew up with Lyla. I only see her as a sister. If you don’t like it, I’ll contact her less.” He said that, so I let it go. I never expected him to do this for a “sister.” My stomach started to churn. Chase saw my face in the mirror and frowned, wanting to slow down. Lyla pouted unhappily. “Chase, you’re the best racer in the city. Why are you driving like a turtle? Faster!” I met his eyes in the mirror, pale-faced. He quickly looked away and said dotingly to Lyla: “Yes, my princess.” I knew there were motion sickness pills in the passenger glove box. I wanted to ask for them, but Chase accelerated instantly. My forehead slammed into the seat in front. I was thrown around. Chase just glanced back indifferently and drove faster. I closed my eyes tight, curling into a ball. As soon as I got out, I vomited on the curb. Lyla looked at me with disgust. “So dirty. Don’t come into our house.” Only then did I realize I was brought to my wedding house with Chase. While I was dazed, my things were thrown out of the villa like trash. Lyla looked down at me from the steps. “Sierra, take your trash and get out!” “You stole my man. You have to pay it back eventually!” Seeing the ceramic doll Chase made for me smashed into pieces. I stood up weakly and slapped her. But Chase blocked it. I used all my strength. My nails scratched Chase’s chin. He looked at me coldly. “Sierra, you crossed the line.” “You put your things in our wedding house without permission. I haven’t even settled that with you!” My heart shattered. My throat was blocked with cotton. “That was our wedding house!” I pointed at the fragments on the ground. He looked, his voice cold. “Just some worthless trinkets. Name a price, I’ll pay you.” That was the first birthday gift Chase gave me. He ruined a room full of clay to practice. Finally, he gave me the perfect pair on my birthday. His love felt tangible back then. “Sierra, this is our token. Put it in your office. Look at it and think of me every day.” I cherished it for three years. I only brought it to the wedding house recently. He looked at me silently, frowning. “Miss Sierra, take your things and leave my home with Lyla.” My heart went dead silent. I had no energy to argue. I looked down and picked up my things. Chase turned to the butler. “Deep clean the house. I don’t want to see anything related to Sierra.” My hand paused. A shard cut my finger. Lyla squatted in front of me, sneering. “Sierra, I told you. You can’t beat me.” I didn’t look up. I said calmly. “I’m not fighting. My leftovers… are yours.” I picked up the bags and left. On the empty road, I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I called my dad, crying. “Dad, I agree to the merger marriage.” Chapter 3 I cried for three days at home. After venting, the phone rang. “Sierra! You cancelled the wedding with Chase?!” My best friend Mia’s voice exploded in my ear. I smiled bitterly. “Mia, not cancelled. The bride just isn’t me.” She paused. “Impossible. The invitation says…” I interrupted her. “Mia, what did you call for?” Mia snapped back to reality. “That dog couple went to your mall to pick wedding dresses! They complained about the service and it’s trending on Twitter!” I opened my phone. #1 Trending Topic: Sierra Mall Service Horror Story. Comments were full of hate. Definitely Lyla’s doing. I poured my heart into this mall. I couldn’t let Lyla ruin it. I fixed my haggard self and went to the mall. Inside the bridal shop, the staff were red-eyed and panicked. Lyla sneered when she saw me. “Like boss, like employee. Sierra, I want you to serve me.” I rolled my eyes internally. What era is this? But with the crowd watching, I gritted my teeth. “Fine.” Chase looked at me in surprise. He didn’t expect me to be so obedient. I was known for my pride. Seeing that I didn’t even look at him, he felt annoyed. “I ordered a pink wedding dress last month. Bring it out for my fiancée.” My smile froze. That dress… was for me. Seeing my expression, Chase relaxed. Lyla’s eyes flashed with hate. I looked at the dress mockingly. “Sierra, you are unique in this world. I want to give you a unique dress.” Lyla shouted. “Come put it on me!” I helped her dress expressionlessly. She laughed. “How does it feel? Your dress on me?” I pulled the laces tight. She gasped. Before she could scream, I covered her mouth and stared into her eyes coldly. “Lyla, how does it feel to marry the man I threw away, wearing a dress that doesn’t belong to you?” She glared. I smirked and walked out. Lyla came out, face black. She sat on the sofa and pointed at a pair of shoes. “Put them on me!” I clenched my fists. Chase stepped forward, voice cold. “Is this your service attitude?” My heart clenched. Chase knew best. To build this mall, I worked for months. I didn’t even have time to plan the wedding. I took a deep breath. I knelt on one knee and put the shoes on Lyla. Lyla kicked the shoe into my face. The sharp heel hit my nose. Tears burst out instantly. Chase instinctively wanted to help me up. Lyla threw herself into his arms, crying. “Chase! She pinched my foot! I didn’t mean to kick her!” Chase’s face turned frosty. “Apologize to my fiancée!” The crowd’s phones flashed brighter. I lowered my head and gritted my teeth. “I’m sorry.” I will remember today’s shame. Sierra never leaves a grudge overnight! Chapter 4 That night, Lyla’s arrogant video went viral. Public opinion flipped. Sterling stock fell. My family’s stock rose. I sighed in relief and slept well. The next morning, my phone rang. “Boss! Bad news!” My secretary was frantic. “Lyla posted online saying you are the mistress! She posted videos of you at the hospital and villa!” “Also, Sterling Group retweeted and confirmed it.” My hands shook. Gaslighting bitch! Suddenly, glass shattered downstairs. I ran down. Lyla stood at my door with reporters and a crowd. Chase grabbed my hand, eyes confused. “Why did you ruin the dress?” I pulled away, looking at him coldly. “I don’t stoop that low!” Chase froze at the coldness in my eyes. Lyla cried. “Miss Sierra, you can’t ruin my dress just because you love Chase! We are getting married in three days!” The crowd whispered. I laughed in anger. “Are you sure that’s your dress?” That dress was one of a kind. Custom made for me. Although ordered in Chase’s name. I asked the designer to weave my name into the fabric. Lyla shouted, red-eyed. “Chase ordered this for me! Chase, tell them!” Everyone looked at Chase. Chase looked at me, then stood firmly behind Lyla. “Yes. I ordered this for Lyla.” The crowd exploded. “A mistress ruining the bride’s dress! Die!” An egg hit me. A woman screamed. “Mistresses deserve to die!” I tried to block. Another egg flew. Chase blocked it for me. Silence. He spoke calmly. “Aim better. You almost hit my fiancée.” Looking at the filth on me and the accusations. My mind snapped. I rushed forward to grab the dress. To show the evidence. My hand touched the fabric, but Chase grabbed my wrist. His eyes were complex. His grip was crushing. He wouldn’t let me take it. In an instant, I understood. Chase knew the secret. He blocked the only way to prove my innocence. The light in my eyes died. Seeing me restrained, others came to beat me. I was kicked to the ground. Chase held my wrist the whole time. Suddenly, someone hit my head with a stick. Blood flowed. Seeing the blood, Chase finally let go. The crowd went silent. I propped myself up, grabbed the dress, and exposed the evidence. I looked at Lyla, word by word. “Why does your dress have my name embroidered on it?” Everyone looked at each other. I looked at Chase weakly. “Take your people and get out!” After they left, I couldn’t hold on anymore. I called an ambulance before passing out.

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When I was four, my sister and I fell into the river. Only I survived. From that day on, Mom hated me. At night, she would try to force colorful “candies” into my mouth, but Dad always stopped her in time. Later, I grew my hair long and wore floral dresses, trying to live as my sister’s shadow. Only then would Mom look at me. Three years later, Mom got pregnant again. She said my dead sister, Chloe, was coming back. I was happy for her. Chloe is coming back. That’s good… That means this family doesn’t need me, the replacement, anymore. I found the “candy” Mom tried to feed me years ago and swallowed it quietly. Chapter 1 The bitterness of the “candy” spread in my mouth. I bent over, dry heaving, acid mixing with saliva. This was the rat poison Mom hid in the back of the closet three years ago. Back then, she would sit by my bed late at night, eyes empty, whispering: “Why aren’t you dead yet?” Now, I was fulfilling her wish. I was wearing a girl’s floral dress. The hem was frayed. It was Chloe’s old dress, too small for me now. But Mom said… I had to wear it to look like Chloe. Laughter came from the living room. It was a gentle sound I hadn’t heard in years. She was touching her belly, talking to Dad: “The doctor said it’s definitely a girl. Look how stable the pregnancy is.” Her voice was sickeningly sweet. “Finally… I don’t have to look at that debt collector’s face anymore.” I wanted to see Mom’s smile one last time. As soon as I reached the door, Dad saw me. He frowned. “Noah, why aren’t you doing your homework?” His gaze swept over my floral dress and quickly looked away, as if seeing something painful. Mom turned and saw me. Her smile froze instantly. “Who let you out? Your hair is short again. Didn’t I tell you to keep it long like Chloe’s?” She walked over quickly and poked my forehead hard. “Always causing trouble. When Chloe is born, if you dare bully her, I’ll break your legs.” I shrank back. The red mark on my forehead stung. The “candy” in my stomach began to dissolve. Waves of pain hit my abdomen, making me bend over. Dad wanted to help me, but Mom stopped him. “Don’t touch him. He’s probably faking it for sympathy.” I bit my lip and said nothing, slowly shuffling back to my room. Every step felt like knives twisting in my gut. My limbs went numb, and my hand shaking as I held the doorframe. I lay on the bed, my body twitching uncontrollably. The door opened. Dad came in with a glass of warm water. He put the glass on my nightstand and hesitated before saying, “Noah, your mom is pregnant and emotional. Don’t take it to heart.” I shook my head, but could only let out a weak groan. Dad’s figure started to blur. Dad sighed. He tucked me in. “Sleep well. You’ll feel better tomorrow.” He closed the door when he left. The room went silent. I pulled out the doll from under my pillow. It was Chloe’s favorite. The fabric was worn shiny. I cleaned it every day. Mom said it was Chloe’s, so I had to protect it. Last time a classmate took it, I fought and got beaten up to get it back. Gradually, my vision blurred. I hugged the doll tight and closed my eyes. Mom, Chloe is coming back. You don’t have to suffer looking at me, the replacement, anymore. This is good. Chapter 2 Slowly, the pain faded. Like a dandelion seed caught in the wind, I floated up to the ceiling. I could see the small body on the bed clearly. The floral dress was wrinkled around him. His face was paper-white, lips blue, dried bile at the corner of his mouth. He was still clutching the doll. When Mom pushed the door open, I was looking at my hands. Transparent. Sunlight passed through them. She didn’t look at me on the bed. She walked straight to the desk, picked up Chloe’s photo, and wiped it again and again. “Chloe, Mom is going to buy you a new bassinet today. Do you like pink or blue?” She turned to leave and accidentally kicked the bed leg. She glanced impatiently at me on the bed. Frowning, she said, “Still sleeping? The sun is up. Get up and make breakfast. Do you want to starve me and Chloe?” I floated in front of her and spoke, but she couldn’t hear me. She stomped out in her slippers, humming a lullaby. From the kitchen came the sound of Dad beating eggs and Mom’s instruction: “Add two more spoons of sugar. Chloe loved sweets.” I floated to the kitchen door. Dad put a pancake on a plate. It was heart-shaped. I didn’t like heart-shaped pancakes. But since Chloe died, Dad only made them heart-shaped. He said Chloe liked them. Mom took the plate and placed it in the center of the table carefully, like an offering. “Go wake him up,” Mom told Dad impatiently. “Don’t let him delay us buying the bassinet.” Dad put down the milk and walked toward my room. I followed him. He stood by the bed, reaching out, but his hand stopped on the blanket. “Noah, wake up.” His voice was soft. “We’re buying a bassinet today. Want to come?” My body on the bed didn’t move. Dad’s fingers trembled. He shook my shoulder. “Noah?” Mom shouted from the living room: “What’s taking so long? Is he faking sleep again?” She rushed in. Seeing Dad frozen by the bed, she exploded. “He’s definitely faking! He just doesn’t want us to buy Chloe a bassinet! Ignore him. Let’s go. Chloe is waiting.” Dad didn’t move. He looked at my body, agitated. “He is our child too.” “He is not!” Mom screamed. “My only child is Chloe! He is the murderer who killed Chloe!” She grabbed the photo from the desk and smashed it on the floor. Glass shards cut Dad’s hand. Dad said nothing. He picked up the shards silently and wrapped his hand in a tissue. The phone rang. It was the school teacher. Mom answered, voice instantly gentle: “Hello, Mrs. Thompson. Is it about Chloe… I mean, Noah?” Hearing the teacher ask why I wasn’t at school, Mom’s voice turned cold. “He skipped school on purpose. Don’t worry about him. Let him rot.” She hung up and pulled Dad away. “Let’s go. Don’t let him waste our time.” Dad looked back at my room, paused, but let Mom drag him away. As the door closed, I saw Dad wipe his eyes. The house was quiet. Only the clock ticked. I floated to the bed, looking at myself. My face was round but gaunt, chin sharp. My hair was shorter than Mom wanted. Not flowing like Chloe’s. I remembered the last haircut. The barber cut it a bit short, and Mom screamed at him, saying he ruined Chloe’s look. She made me kneel for two hours at home, saying I didn’t deserve to have hair like Chloe’s. Kneeling there, looking at Chloe’s photo, I suddenly felt like a stranger. Chapter 3 In the afternoon, Mom and Dad returned with a pink bassinet embroidered with a princess. Mom was beaming. She placed it in the living room. “Chloe will love this. She loved sleeping with her princess doll.” Dad glanced at my room. “Should we check on Noah?” Mom’s face darkened. “Why? He’ll come out when he’s hungry.” She sat by the bassinet, rocking it gently, humming a lullaby. Her eyes were dripping with love. I floated over to look at the pink bassinet. Small, exquisite. Chloe’s style. Mom said she’d buy it for Chloe’s birthday, but Chloe left before that. Now it’s here. Its little owner is coming back in another way. Mom suddenly looked up, sensing something. She looked in my direction. I quickly floated to the ceiling. Her gaze swept the empty living room, frowned, then went back to the bassinet. “Chloe, Mom is waiting for you,” she whispered. “I won’t let you leave again.” I watched her profile. I wasn’t sad. Mom is finally getting her Chloe back. I, the replacement, should disappear completely. This way, everyone can be happy. On the third morning, someone pounded on the door. I floated to the living room. Mom opened the door impatiently. It was my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Thompson. “Mrs. Sarah,” Mrs. Thompson looked serious. “Noah hasn’t been to school for three days. You didn’t answer my calls, so I came to check.” She tried to look inside. “Is Noah home?” Mom blocked the door. “He’s home. Throwing a tantrum. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him.” “It’s not a tantrum,” Mrs. Thompson frowned. “Last week, students reported Noah was bullied. Kids stripped his clothes and poured cold water on him. I wanted to discuss this, but couldn’t reach you.” Mom jumped like a cat whose tail was stepped on. “Don’t listen to those kids! Noah must be misbehaving and provoking others! He’s been vicious since he was little. He killed his sister, and now he plays the victim at school!” Mrs. Thompson’s face darkened. “Mrs. Sarah, I saw the bruises on Noah. They are new. And I know Noah was bullied protecting a classmate. He is a good student. You can’t say that.” “Good?!” Mom screamed, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “If he was good, Chloe wouldn’t be dead! He’s a curse! I shouldn’t have let him live!” Mrs. Thompson was shocked. She sighed. “If you act like this, I have to contact Child Protective Services. Noah is a good boy. You can’t treat him like this.” She turned to leave. Mom cursed behind her back until she disappeared. Closing the door, Mom trembled with rage. She kicked my door. “Noah! Look at the trouble you caused! Even the teacher came! Why don’t you just die!” I floated beside her, looking at her twisted face. I remembered the drowning when I was four. We fell into the river. I tried to hold her hand, but the current separated us. When I was saved, Mom was holding Chloe’s body, crying. The first thing she said to me was, “Why didn’t you die?” Dad came out of the study. “Stop yelling. The neighbors will hear.” His voice was low. “Noah hasn’t eaten in three days. Let’s check on him.” Mom shook off his hand. “Check what? He won’t die!” But this time, Dad didn’t listen. He opened the door. Mom hesitated, then followed. Dad walked over and lifted the quilt. Sunlight hit my body. My pale face, blue lips, and dried blood at the corner of my mouth were clearly visible.

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The day my mom married Julian Vance’s father, he got drunk and cornered me with red eyes: “Joanna, letting your mom marry into wealth… was this your goal all along?” “Great! Just great!” In that moment, the troubled boy I had saved began to hate me. He didn’t break up with me. But from that day on, he changed. He brought different women home every night. Until now, he set his sights on his new secretary. This time was different. Three months passed, and he still hadn’t dumped her. On New Year’s Eve, I saw them at a Michelin-starred restaurant. I was working overtime, negotiating a deal. He and Chloe were having a candlelight dinner. Two people who had loved each other for ten years sat at adjacent tables like strangers. I smiled politely, making conversation, while the client touched my hand suggestively. He slid a hotel key card across the table. Just as the situation became unbearable, fireworks exploded outside the window. JULIAN LOVES CHLOE At that moment, I looked at Julian. My heart plummeted. He won. After the dinner, I turned around and made a call. “Mom, I agree to break up with him. Book me a flight out of the country next week.” Chapter 1 I walked aimlessly on the street, phone pressed to my ear. The last night of the year was exceptionally cold. Sleet mixed with rain, the wind drilling into my heart. The New Year’s bell rang. Cheers erupted from the crowd. I followed their gaze. On the giant LED screen of the Vance Tower, a sentence scrolled across: “Happy New Year to the most beautiful and capable fairy at Vance Corp, Chloe.” On the first day of the new year, her name still haunted me. Passersby read it aloud with envy, their voices transmitting through the phone. Mom was furious: “That’s too much! I’m going to talk to your Uncle Richard.” “No need, Mom. I’m leaving anyway.” I hung up indifferently. The suffocating pain I used to feel was gone. But seeing the “2-hour wait” on the Uber app made me irritable. A jarring honk sounded. Julian’s car was cruising beside me. Chloe leaned out from the passenger seat, greeting me enthusiastically. “Joanna! Are you going home?” “Mmhmm,” I replied calmly. She exaggerated her pity, practically clinging to Julian: “Aww~ The wait for Uber is forever tonight. We’re going the same way, but Julian bought so many gifts, the back seat is full. Otherwise, we could have given you a ride.” I stopped. Through the window, I could see a massive bouquet of roses taking up most of the back seat. Before I could look closer, a suit jacket hit me square in the face. I caught it instinctively. Julian’s sneer reached my ears: “Cover up that smell of alcohol. It stinks. Don’t let clients complain about you to the company.” The heavy jacket stung my face. I watched Julian’s taillights disappear into the night. I threw the suit I had personally ironed—now stained with another woman’s scent—into a roadside donation bin. I got home three hours later. The lights were on, but the house was empty. He was out again. I thought I was used to it. But when the bathroom steam fogged up the mirror, revealing handprints from an intimate moment, the alcohol in my stomach churned. I vomited, tears mixing with bile. When I came out, dawn was breaking. Two unread messages on my phone. One: Flight booking confirmed. The other from Julian: [Busy. Not coming back.] Scrolling up, our communication this year was scarce. Mostly me making endless calls, and him replying with a single word: [Busy.] I habitually opened Chloe’s Instagram. As expected, a perfect nine-grid post. 999 roses, New Year’s fireworks… and the center photo: a mirror selfie of her hugging Julian. I recognized the place. Julian’s property on the West Side. In the corner of the mirror was a sticker of Judy and Nick from Zootopia—a souvenir from a movie we watched together. Now it was soaked, peeling, and pathetic. Disgusting. Julian didn’t return for the next few days. The housekeeper was on holiday. I wandered the huge, empty house like a ghost. Only the food delivery reminders marked the time. Spicy wings, ghost pepper fries, Sichuan hotpot… When the fifth spicy meal appeared on the table, I couldn’t take it anymore. I swept them all into the trash and sent a photo to Julian. [Stop ordering. I’m not the one who loves spicy food.] He called immediately. Julian’s voice was raspy, laced with post-coital laziness and impatience. “Throwing a tantrum with a hunger strike? Fine. Just don’t call me when you end up in the hospital again.” Chloe’s chirpy voice chimed in. “Joanna, just try it! Julian and I tasted these places, they’re super yummy!” “Ignore her. Let her starve if she wants.” I pressed my lips together, swallowing the urge to humiliate myself by asking: Julian, you remember I have gastritis and need regular meals. Do you remember I went to the hospital last time because I ate spicy food? The words stuck in my throat. Finally, I replied: “I can order for myself.” “Heh, yourself?” Julian repeated ambiguously, then scoffed. “Joanna, you don’t want food. You just want money, right?” Chapter 2 “Joanna, aren’t you and your mom just after my family’s money?” The mocking voice overlapped with my memory. Even after a year, it still smashed me to pieces. Tears fell onto the table. When I snapped back, the call had ended. A transfer of $150,000 hit my bank account. Followed by a voice message. “50k for food. 100k for your errand fee. Chloe dropped a bra strap in the sofa crack. Find it and bring it to her when you come to work on Monday.” I moved the couple’s pillow and found the black strap in the crevice. We picked this sofa together. I loved it at first sight. Julian tested its softness and smiled: “Size is perfect. I apply for extra pillows so we can be more comfortable.” Lovers’ talk, always a bit suggestive. I scolded him, he laughed. We picked item after item, decorating our dream home. But now, seeing the things I carefully chose sharing space with him and another woman… I felt repulsed. Since I’m leaving, throw them all away. I packed from dawn to dusk. Eight years of feelings turned into five boxes of trash and one suitcase. Confirming the house was devoid of my traces, the discomfort finally eased. Only one thing left. I took a photo album from the bedside drawer. 279 photos, all torn and taped back together. From graduation to college, cohabitation, and work. The photos recorded our entire youth. The last one was New Year’s Eve last year. We toasted under fireworks, celebrating our seventh year. Three days after that photo was taken. Uncle Richard (Julian’s dad) and my divorced Mom announced at dinner that they wanted to be together. Julian kept a straight face and agreed. I was happy too. But back at our home, he tore the photos and threw them at my face. “Joanna, you and your mom are so cheap. Just after my family’s money? ‘Kissing cousins’? Disgusting!” I stood there, bewildered, watching him vent his rage. Julian and I found out at the same time. I thought he genuinely accepted it. I took out all the photos, tore them again along the taped cracks, and threw them into the trash. Chapter 3 I saw Julian again at the first morning meeting after the holidays. He sat at the head. Chloe sat beside him, whispering and laughing intimately. My relationship with Julian wasn’t public in the company. To avoid suspicion, our most intimate interaction used to be a knowing smile. My eyes fell on his hands on the table. On his left middle finger, there used to be a silver band matching my necklace. He bought it with money earned from part-time jobs before the Vance family got rich. Now it was replaced by a gold ring with a green diamond. A flashy couple set matching Chloe’s. A colleague nudged me. “Joanna, don’t be sad. We all know what tricks she used. You’re the real Top Biller in our hearts.” I looked up at the screen blankly. Today was the annual summary. The #1 spot belonged to Chloe, someone not even in Sales. One single project pushed me, with 27 deals, to second place. Julian’s explanation: This deal had higher margins. But that project was the one I negotiated overtime on New Year’s Eve. I put the contract on his desk this morning along with the bra strap. He saw with his own eyes how I was grilled to get that signature. My pen tore through the paper, a sharp sound in the awkward silence. After the meeting, Julian called me into his office. Neither spoke first. Julian’s face grew darker. He tapped the table impatiently, the ring flashing in my eyes. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Something wrong?” “Don’t you have anything to ask?” We spoke simultaneously. I paused, then laughed. Ask what? Why he stayed out all night on our anniversary? Why he gave my project to someone else? Or how long he planned to torture me? None of it mattered anymore. My resignation letter, submitted to HR yesterday, bypassed him and was approved by Uncle Richard. Handover would be done today. The house was cleared. My luggage was in the trunk. I’d head to the airport after work. I said calmly: “If nothing else, I’m leaving.” Julian stared at me, face gloomy. “Where is my stuff?” I paused, realizing he meant the anniversary gift. Every year, we made handmade gifts for each other. But given the situation, I thought we were done with that. “Forgot.” I gave a perfunctory excuse. Julian’s face turned cold. He loosened his tie irritably. “Joanna, have some empathy. Haven’t I given you enough money? Do you have to make a scene over this?” “Chloe is alone in this city. I spent New Year’s with her out of corporate compassion. She needs the bonus more than you.” He paused, then added awkwardly: “If you want the bonus that bad, I can wire it to you directly.” One sentence denied all my efforts. After the fight last year, I worked overnight, desperately closing six-figure deals for months. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t after his money. I earned enough. But I remembered his arrogant look back then. “Isn’t that money given to you by the Vance family too?” Afraid of seeing that contempt again, I shook my head. “No need. Anything else?” He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “No.” Chapter 4 As I turned to leave, a red bracelet was thrown from behind the desk, landing by my feet. “Throw it away if you don’t like it.” Julian’s tone was dry, like charity mixed with a scolding. I looked down. The red string was braided messily, with a small, stingy gold bead. Hard to like. I didn’t want trouble, so I picked it up. “Understood.” I’d throw it away outside. Opening the door, I saw Chloe pretending to be busy but watching us. Seeing me, she greeted sweetly. “Joanna, did you fight with Julian because of me? Sorry, I just casually said I wanted that project. I didn’t think he’d actually give it to me.” Her eyes caught the bracelet in my hand. Her smile froze for a second, then brightened: “I wondered why Julian was so petty, taking the small gold bead from the ring set. So it was a peace offering for you.” “The salesgirl said this bead is part of our love too. It’s fitting that Julian gave it to you.” “Chloe!” Before I could speak, Julian’s panicked voice came from inside. Chloe played with her hair, revealing the matching gold ring. “Julian is calling me. Bye!” Watching the door close, I threw the silver necklace from my neck and the red bracelet into the trash can. Back at my department, a pungent spicy smell filled the air. HR was distributing afternoon tea awkwardly. Everyone looked unhappy. “What’s wrong?” Seeing me, my team swarmed over to complain. “Joanna, look. Isn’t she doing this on purpose?” I looked at the table. Heavy spicy snacks and double-sugar milk tea. And Chloe’s message in the group chat: “Mr. Vance said the Top Biller chooses the celebration tea. So I ordered my favorites.” “Don’t pretend to be healthy. Life needs spice and sugar to be fun.” No wonder they looked green. Sales teams work late; stomachs are sensitive. This would kill them. “Throw it out. I’m buying. Whatever you want.” “Long live Joanna!” I smiled at their cheers. I would miss my colleagues more than Julian. We worked together for years. I couldn’t tell them I was leaving. This tea would be my goodbye. Near the end of the day, Mom called. She asked if I told Julian. I said no, and told her to say she didn’t know if he asked. Uncle Richard’s apologetic voice came through. “Joanna, Julian wronged you. I apologize for him. Don’t hate him. He’s hurting too.” Don’t hate him? I couldn’t. Julian and I were classmates in high school. Mom was our homeroom teacher. Back then, the Vance family wasn’t rich yet. Uncle Richard was always away. Julian was a troubled kid with bad grades. I remember after a parent-teacher meeting, Julian fought with his mom in the hallway. “You only tell Dad to take care of his health, and tell me to study hard.” “What else can you do besides cooking and cleaning? Useless! Shut up if you can’t help!” Later, his mom died in a car crash on the way home. Mom took him in, fearing for his mental health. I understood his guilt and rejection of his mom. But who cared about my pain this past year? He mocked Uncle Richard and Mom, forcing them to move abroad. When I proposed breaking up, he pointed at my nose: “What? Your mom replaced you to dig for gold, so you can retire? Dream on.” One year. My love was ground to dust. Knock, knock, knock. The car window rattled. I turned, startled. Julian was knocking, his voice muffled: “My car is in the shop. We’re going home together for a few days.”

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After my sister was born, everything in our house was decided by casting the Runes. Whether I could eat at the table, whether I got new clothes—it all depended on the Runes. Every time, I tossed “Cursed.” My sister always tossed “Blessed.” Whenever I cried from hunger, Mom would look at me with disappointment. “The Spirits are fair. This is Providence.” “Your fate is cheap. Don’t blame others. Your dad and I are just following the will of the Spirits.” So I practiced. I knelt before the altar for ten years, trying to beg for a little love. But I never won. Not once. On Christmas Eve, snow was falling heavily. I wanted to go inside to get warm. Mom made me cast the Runes again. I secretly tried to flip the “Cursed” rune with my finger. She stomped on my hand, breaking my finger, and called me a blasphemer. She locked me out in the cold, wearing only a thin shirt. I curled up in the snow, the cold freezing my heart. Sorry, Mom. In my next life, I’ll make the Spirits like me. Chapter 1 The moment my soul left my body, I felt incredibly light. Finally, I didn’t have to hear the sound of those two red wooden blocks hitting the floor anymore. I floated in mid-air, looking down at my body curled up in the snow. My fingers were twisted—Mom stomped on them last night. Ice hung from my face; my eyelashes were covered in frost. Morning came. The sound of Christmas bells rang out. The heavy front door opened. Mom walked out wearing a brand new cashmere coat, her face beaming with joy. She held a basin of dirty dishwater, humming a carol. When she saw the black lump at the door, her singing stopped. Splash. The water drenched my corpse. “It’s Christmas morning! Are you trying to bring me bad luck?” “Hazel! Get up!” The water froze instantly upon touching my body. I didn’t move. Disgust overflowed from Mom’s eyes. She lifted her booted foot and kicked my lower back hard. “Stop playing dead! I didn’t let you in last night, and now you’re pulling this pity stunt?” “I’m telling you, the Spirits are watching. A girl with a crooked heart like you deserves to freeze!” That kick was heavy. If I were alive, I would have curled up in pain and begged for mercy. But now, I just rolled over stiffly. Like a hard log. Mom paused, then sneered even colder. “Fine. You’ve gotten tough. Your bones are hard now.” “Trying to force me to soften up? To let you in?” “Dream on!” Just then, my sister Luna ran out in a pink princess dress. She held the pair of “Runes,” polished smooth by years of use. “Mommy, is Hazel hiding her face because she tossed ‘Cursed’ last night?” “Sister is so rude. Making Mommy angry on Christmas.” Mom’s face changed instantly to a smile. She squatted down to fix Luna’s scarf. “Luna is the good girl. Your sister is just ignorant.” “Look at her, lying at the door like a beggar on such a big day.” Luna blinked her big eyes, staring at my corpse with pure malice. “Mommy, if guests come and see Hazel blocking the door, it’s bad luck.” “What if she blocks the blessing of wealth?” Mom’s face changed. She was superstitious about money. “Right. Can’t let her block our fortune.” Mom grabbed one of my legs with disgust. My body was frozen solid; the joints wouldn’t bend. She dragged me. My head bumped against the steps with a dull thud. But Mom didn’t notice. She dragged me all the way to the dilapidated woodshed in the corner of the yard. She threw me onto the dusty, coal-stained floor. Mom stood at the door, looking at me with disdain. “Since you want to sleep, sleep all you want!” “Without my permission, if you dare take a step out of this door, I’ll break your legs!” “Unless you toss ‘Blessed,’ you can rot in here!” The woodshed door slammed shut. Locked. I floated in the air, watching the woman I called Mom for over ten years turn and leave. Without a backward glance. She didn’t even notice that during the dragging… The finger she broke last night had snapped off and fallen into the snow. That was the masterpiece she left behind while “following Providence.” I looked at the severed finger and suddenly wanted to laugh. This time, I was really obedient. I would never take a step out of this door again. Chapter 2 The woodshed leaked wind from all sides. It wasn’t much warmer than outside. My body lay twisted on the coal pile. Through the thin wall, the heat from the house was blasting. The TV played cheerful Christmas songs. That was the warmth I craved most, but could never be part of. “Dinner time!” Dad’s voice rang out. “Luna, come quick! It’s your favorite roast turkey.” I floated into the house. The table was full of food. Roast turkey, glazed ham, mashed potatoes. All things I loved but never got to eat. In this house, what we ate was decided by the Spirits. Mom said it was for fairness. But every time it was my turn, the red wooden blocks seemed cursed. Always two convex sides up—”Cursed.” The Spirits forbade it. But Luna always got one flat, one convex—”Blessed.” Great fortune. So, I ate leftovers or plain bread. Luna ate steak and shrimp. “Mommy, isn’t Hazel eating?” Luna asked with her mouth full of turkey. She did it on purpose. She knew how to trigger Mom. Sure enough, Mom slammed her fork down. “Why mention that bad luck charm? Ruins my appetite!” “She’s reflecting in the woodshed. She can come out when she learns her lesson.” Dad sipped his wine and said casually: “It’s Christmas. Maybe we shouldn’t starve her? She is the oldest.” Mom snorted and took the pair of Runes from the altar. “Fine. I’ll give her a chance.” “If the Spirits agree, I’ll send her a plate.” Mom put her hands together and chanted. “Spirits above, Hazel is stubborn. If she truly repents, grant her a meal.” She dropped the blocks. Clack. One flat, one convex. Blessed! The Spirits agreed! My dead heart actually skipped a beat. Even though I was dead and didn’t need to eat. But this might be the first time in my life I “won.” But the next second, Mom’s face turned ugly. She stared at the Runes on the floor. Then, she extended her foot and gently kicked one of the blocks. The block that was flat side up flipped over. Convex side up. Cursed. Mom smiled with satisfaction. “See, Earl?” “It’s not me starving her. Even the Spirits think she hasn’t repented.” “This is Providence.” Dad didn’t even look at the floor. He put a piece of ham in his mouth. “If it’s Providence, then there’s nothing we can do.” “Let her starve. She’ll behave after a few skipped meals.” I floated in the air, watching this, crying desperate tears. I must have seen it wrong. How could Mom kick it on purpose? She feared the Spirits the most. It must have been an accident. I was so sad. Just a little bit more, and I could have eaten the dinner Mom cooked. I tried desperately to flip the block back, but my hands passed through it again and again. Mom, don’t be mad. It’s just my bad luck. If I were luckier, would you love me then? “Mommy, I want to turn Hazel’s room into my walk-in closet,” Luna said suddenly. “I have too many dresses. My closet is full.” My room was small, but it faced the sun. Grandma fought for it for me before she died. It was my only sanctuary in this house. Mom nodded without hesitation. “Sure. She seems to like living in the woodshed anyway.” “A cheap life like hers… living in a sunny room is a waste of fortune.” “After dinner, we’ll throw her junk out.” Luna cheered and kissed Mom. “Mommy is the best! Love you!” Mom beamed, eyes full of love. “Mommy loves Luna most. You are my lucky star.” A happy family of three. And I was the outsider. No, I was always the outsider. Now, even that tiny room was gone. My body stiffened in the woodshed. My soul froze in the living room. Mom, if you knew I was dead… Would you still give my room to Luna? Or would you think, Great, saved money on a coffin. Just use the woodshed as a morgue. Chapter 3 In the afternoon, relatives arrived for the Christmas party. Aunt Carol looked around as she entered. “Hey? Where’s Hazel?” “Doesn’t she usually wait at the door to take coats?” I floated beside Aunt Carol. Every year, I had to wear that old, faded coat, standing at the door like a servant. If I was slow, I got beaten after the guests left. This year, I wasn’t there. The entrance was messy with snowy footprints. Mom looked unnatural for a second. “That girl, getting more rebellious as she grows.” “She talked back last night. Has a big temper. Locked herself in her room.” “Ignore her. Let her starve.” Aunt Carol frowned but said nothing. No one wanted to ruin the holiday mood. Luna walked out wearing my down jacket. I saved money for a whole year to buy that. Secretly. It was a cheap brand, but warm. Last night I begged Mom to let me wear it because it was freezing. Mom said: “Let the Runes decide.” Result: Cursed. So I was kicked out in a thin shirt. Now, Luna wore it. It was too big for her. But she was proud. “Merry Christmas, Auntie!” Luna smiled sweetly, reaching out for gifts. Aunt Carol handed her a thick red envelope. “Luna is so good. Prettier every year.” Luna took the money, then pouted, eyes red. “Auntie, actually… Hazel isn’t angry.” “She’s just too ashamed to come out.” The room went quiet. Mom paused. “Luna, what are you saying?” Luna looked down, acting like she was scared to speak. “This morning, I saw Hazel steal the money Dad left on the coffee table.” “I told her to put it back, but she hit me.” “She hid because she’s afraid you’ll find out.” I stared at Luna in shock. I saw Luna steal that money this morning and put it in her own schoolbag. Now, she was framing a dead person. Dad stood up abruptly. “What? She dared to steal money?” “Outrageous! I wondered where that $100 went!” Mom’s face turned black. She cared about face the most in front of relatives. “That little thief! Dirty hands!” “I’m going to break her hands today!” Mom ran to the kitchen, grabbed a rolling pin, and marched out. Aunt Carol tried to stop her. “Agnes! It’s Christmas! Don’t hit the child!” Mom shook her off. “Don’t stop me! This girl needs a lesson!” “Stealing at home? Next she’ll be killing people!” “I’m doing the Spirits’ work!” She rushed to the woodshed door and kicked it. “Hazel! Get out here!” “Hand over the money! Or I’ll skin you alive!” Dust fell from the door. Inside, dead silence. No answer. Mom got angrier. She took out the key and unlocked it. “Fine. Playing deaf and dumb?” “Let’s see how long you can act!” The door opened. Bitter cold air rushed out. Mom rushed in, raised the rolling pin, and smashed it onto the dark shape on the ground. Thud. The rolling pin hit my back. I watched my corpse bounce slightly from the impact. I felt only sadness. Mom, hit me. I’m dead anyway. It won’t hurt anymore. Chapter 4 Mom hit me several times. Each blow was full force. A living person would have screamed and begged. But “I” on the ground didn’t make a sound. Didn’t even flinch. Mom finally stopped, panting. She felt something was wrong. “Hazel?” “Are you mute?” She poked my shoulder with the rolling pin. My body was hard, maintaining that twisted posture. Mom frowned. Anger turned to confusion. “Playing possum?” “Get up!” She bent down and grabbed my collar. The moment her hand touched my neck, she recoiled. Ice cold. Mom’s face changed. She looked back at the relatives in the yard. Everyone was whispering. “Why isn’t she moving?” “Did Agnes kill her?” For the sake of her reputation, Mom forced calmness. “It’s fine. Stubborn girl. Acting.” “She’s cold because there’s no heat in here.” She turned her back to the crowd and hissed at me. “Hazel, I’m counting to three.” “If you don’t get up and apologize, don’t ever come back inside!” “One!” “Two!” “Three!” I remained motionless. Mom was humiliated. She felt I was challenging her authority. “Fine. You have guts.” “Since you like lying down, stay down forever!” She turned to leave and lock the door again. Just then, Dad walked over. He looked at the stiff figure in the shed, frowning deeply. “Agnes, something is wrong.” “You hit her so hard, why didn’t she move?” “And… that posture is too weird.” Dad ignored me usually, but he had common sense. The angle of my legs wasn’t a normal sleeping position. Mom waved impatiently. “What’s wrong? She’s just tough. Cheap life.” “Faking it to scare us.” Dad hesitated. “Maybe… call a doctor?” “If she really froze… it’ll look bad.” Mom exploded. “What doctor? On Christmas? Bad luck!” “And it costs money! She stole money and wants me to spend more?” “No way!” Uncle Ray, the village doctor who came to visit, walked over. He squinted at me in the shed. “Earl, Agnes.” “Stop arguing.” Uncle Ray’s voice trembled. His finger pointing at the shed shook. “What?” Mom asked rudely. Uncle Ray took a deep breath. He walked into the shed, ignored Mom, and grabbed my wrist. His hand froze. He turned slowly to look at my parents. Eyes full of horror and disbelief. “Agnes, why are you still cursing?” “This child… has been gone for a long time!”

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Working overtime until 2 AM, I accidentally clicked on a pop-up ad and saw a viral Reddit post. The OP’s tone seemed casual, but every word screamed despair: “Today, while my wife was working, I snooped on her phone.” “Reddit, putting everything else aside, she only blocked me. Does this mean I’m special to her?” “I’m not a simp, but being the only one blocked… isn’t that special?” I understood immediately. This was a man driven insane after seeing something on his wife’s phone. But that woman was so careless. How could she let her husband see her phone? Unlike me. I’m always cautious. I shook my head and instinctively patted the spot next to me. Then I froze— Wait, where is my phone? Chapter 1 After replying to the client’s last email, it was already 2 AM. The living room was quiet. My cat, adopted six months ago, was snoring on the balcony. My husband of one year, Julian Vance—whom I married for a business merger—was in the study dealing with his own work. I stretched, intending to wash up and sleep. My hand slipped, clicking on a pop-up. A hot Reddit thread appeared. I blinked, curiously scrolling down. The post was laid out before me. The OP was a man. His tone was light, but despair seeped through the screen: [AITA for thinking I’m special because my wife blocked only me?] “Today, while my wife was working, I despicably snooped on the phone she left in the study.” “Reddit, putting everything else aside… she pinned her best friend, her ex, and her family. But she only blocked me. Does this mean I’m special to her too?” Me: ??? Good lord. Where did this 24K gold simp come from? Why didn’t I meet someone like this? Truly, some drown while others die of thirst. I sighed with emotion and scrolled down to the comments. User A: “Bro, excuse me for asking, but when you say ‘putting everything else aside,’ what exactly is ‘everything else’?” The OP replied thoughtfully, word by word: “Umm…” “Just putting aside that she tells her best friend I’m old, putting aside that she tells her best friend she wants a divorce, putting aside that she wants to find her ex, putting aside that she hates talking to me, putting aside that she doesn’t let me touch her stuff…” “Yeah, that’s it. Just putting these aside for now…” User B: “??? Bro, you ARE a simp. How can you still think you’re special?” “Does she have to slap the divorce papers on your face and tell you to fuck off before you believe you’re unloved?” The OP went silent. More and more rubberneckers flooded in. Every comment was some variation of: “Look at this simp. Hopeless…” … Half an hour later. The OP came back online. He fiercely refuted all comments calling him a simp: “Yes, I love her. I loved her before we got married. Even if she scolds me, hates me, and wants to divorce me every day after marriage, I can’t convince myself not to love her.” “But I’m really not a simp. I’m sober. I’m rational. I know what I’m doing.” “But I don’t understand. How is being the only one blocked not special?” “You single dogs don’t get it. What do single dogs know…?” The commenters weren’t angry. Instead, they laughed harder: “Haha, OP is triggered. He’s a delusional simp…” I rubbed my temples, understanding the situation— A man checked his wife’s phone and was driven crazy by what he saw. But that woman was careless. How could she leave her phone around? Unlike me. I’m always cautious. I shook my head and patted the sofa next to me. I froze. Wait, where is my phone? Chapter 2 I searched around the sofa. Nothing. Crap. My phone was gone. It had all my work messages. Calming my anxiety, I retraced my steps. Finally. My gaze landed on the study door. I worked in the living room all day, only entering the study once to find a file. The study door was ajar. The light was still on. My merger husband was obviously still working. Coincidentally, every time I worked until dawn, he did too. I hesitated. Then I walked toward the study. Just as I reached the door. The light went out. Then. Steady footsteps sounded. Moving away in the dark. Disappearing behind the door connecting the study and the master bedroom. Julian went to sleep. I pushed the door open and walked in. Sure enough, I found my phone on the bookshelf. I didn’t use a screen lock. I swiped open, replied to a few messages, and went back to the contacts list. Pinned at the top: My best friend, my parents. And… my idiot ex-boyfriend whom I broke up with eons ago, inexplicably pinned there. Disgusting. Bad luck. Want to vomit. I rolled my eyes. Quickly unpinned the ex. Suddenly, an absurd thought flashed through my mind. Wife working late at night. Phone forgotten in the study. Pinned best friend, family, and ex. Was that post written by… Julian? Chapter 3 Julian and I had an arranged marriage. That year, I just graduated college. Ready to conquer the world in my chosen field. But I was told I had to marry the eldest son of the Vance family, four years my senior, stern and boring. To me, this marriage was a cage destroying my freedom. So, I resented my parents, the Vances, and especially Julian. After marriage, I never gave him a good face. Of course, he always faced me with an expressionless mask. We lived our rotten lives together. Later, I accidentally saw Julian staring at a photo in a daze. The figure in the photo was blurry, but I could tell it was a young girl. I suddenly understood. Julian was probably forced into this marriage just like me. From that day on. I stopped being hostile. But we still had nothing to say to each other. The atmosphere shifted from tense to extremely awkward. I started hating going home. But Julian seemed unaffected. He came home on time every day. Like a programmed robot butler: cooking, laundry, cleaning. Last week was my birthday. I partied until dawn. When I opened the door. I saw him sitting alone on the sofa, staring into space. Our eyes met… I clearly saw the dark circles under his eyes. He looked at me quietly, lips moving slightly as if to speak. But I was too afraid of the awkwardness and rushed upstairs. At the top of the stairs, I looked back. Julian was still sitting there. A rare look of unease on his face. Like a child who made a mistake, tugging at the hem of his shirt. I thought I was hallucinating from fatigue. … Back to the present. I found that post again. I clicked on the OP’s profile picture. A familiar, huge diamond ring flashed before my eyes. I pursed my lips, quickly pulled up my wedding photo with Julian, and zoomed in on the ring on his right hand— It was identical. I was in shambles. Julian loves me? How is that possible? He looks like he hates me more than I hate him! Coincidence. Must be a coincidence. Chapter 4 The next day was Saturday. I had a shopping date with my best friend, Lila. But because of the overtime and the discovery of Julian’s potential secret… I had insomnia. Hearing Lila roar on the phone: “Macy! If you aren’t out in an hour, you’re dead!” I scrambled out of bed, sporting dark circles, frantically searching for clothes. At this moment. Julian, having finished breakfast, walked past my door with a cup of coffee. Without his suit, he looked much gentler. Features still deep and handsome, hair styled in the slight curl I liked, lounge wear collar loose, revealing delicate collarbones. He walked past. Leaving a scent of pleasant cologne. I was dazed by his handsomeness for a second. Suddenly remembering last night’s guess. My mouth moved faster than my brain: “Julian, can you… come help me find a dress?” The moment the words fell. Julian froze. The coffee cup slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor with a loud crash. …Wow, what a reaction. I was a bit scared, lowering my eyes guiltily: “Ah, um, if not, then…” Before I finished. A shadow loomed over me. I looked up instinctively, meeting Julian’s eyes, surging with subtle undercurrents. “I can.” He said calmly. I was stunned. Before I could react. Julian was already standing stiffly in front of the closet, hands hanging uneasily by his sides. Clenching, releasing. Clenching, releasing. …He seemed very nervous.

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On New Year’s Eve, my wealthy parents and brother finally agreed to accompany me to Disneyland to count down the new year. But when I arrived at the park, I saw no sign of them. I texted them, and they replied helplessly that they were stuck in traffic and would be late. I waited alone in the park until late at night. When the midnight bell rang… I saw my fake sister’s Instagram post. She was wearing a pure white princess dress, holding a newly won dance trophy, hugged in the middle by my parents and brother at a New Year’s Eve banquet. Caption: [New Year, same love. Celebrating with my favorite family.] Her friends liked and commented below. This wasn’t the first time my parents broke a promise. But this time, I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just commented calmly: [So nice. Wishing your family of four a Happy New Year.] Chapter 1 That night, I stayed at Disneyland alone until dawn. I had just fallen asleep at home when the phone rang. I stared at the name “Ethan” flashing on the screen and didn’t move. After he hung up and called for the fourth time, I slowly picked up. Before I could speak, a roar exploded from the other end: “Nora, what’s with your sarcastic comment in the middle of the night?” “Stella won an award last night! Twenty years of hard work for that trophy. What’s wrong with us celebrating for her?” His voice turned colder. “Can’t you be more sensible? Do you have to make the whole family unhappy on New Year’s?” Sensible. That word again. From the first day I was brought back to the Sterling family, this word reminded me to step aside, shut up, and smile. I looked at the gray sky outside the window and finally spoke. “Ethan, Happy New Year.” The other end choked. The anger he prepared was stuck in his throat. I didn’t give him a chance to react. I continued in a tone devoid of emotion: “I didn’t mean anything else.” “I just think… you guys look like a real family.” Then, I hung up. The world instantly became quiet. The phone screen went dark, reflecting my expressionless face. I stood up, walked to the huge walk-in closet, and opened the bottom drawer. From under a pile of flashy jewelry boxes, I dragged out the old canvas bag I brought when I came. Unzipping it, I started packing. My old T-shirts, my sketchbook, and the mechanical pencil I’d used for years. Halfway through, the phone rang again. This time not my “good brother,” but Vanessa, my mother in the legal sense. I didn’t answer. I declined the call and continued folding my old clothes one by one, putting them into the canvas bag. There weren’t many; it was full quickly. The phone rang again. Richard, my father. I declined again. Soon, the phone vibrated. A text message popped up. From Richard, with the commanding tone of the head of the household: [Your sister is crying from guilt. Come back and apologize immediately. If you’re done throwing a tantrum, come home.] I looked at the message and didn’t reply. I still had one most important thing to do. I opened the desk drawer. Inside lay a black card. This was given to me when I first returned to the Sterling family. They said it was pocket money, buy whatever I wanted, just don’t embarrass the family. I never used it once. I took it out, placed it on the clean desk, took out my phone, and snapped a photo. Click. Then, I opened the “Happy Family” group chat, which was usually dead silent except for holidays. I sent the photo. Followed by a line of text: “Thank you for your care. I haven’t touched this money. The password is Stella’s birthday. From now on, I’m on my own.” Chapter 2 After doing all this, I felt light all over. Within thirty seconds, my phone went crazy. The group chat exploded, but I had no interest in looking. Then, Vanessa called for the third time, with a persistence that said she wouldn’t stop until I answered. This time, I picked up. “Nora! Where are you? Come back, okay? What do you mean by sending that?” Her voice was suppressed, tearful. “Nothing,” I said. “Literal meaning.” “Nora, Mom knows you felt wronged all these years, but Stella is weak. She’s sensitive. How can you provoke her like this? If she sees it, she’ll get sick again!” Listening to the familiar rhetoric, I almost laughed. Again. Stella’s health was a universal shield, blocking all their bias and all my grievances. Before, I would be silent, endure, and say “I know.” But today, I didn’t want to. I interrupted her crying. My voice was light, but clear as an ice pick. “Mrs. Sterling.” The crying on the other end stopped abruptly. I paused, giving her a second to digest the address, then asked the question I should have asked long ago in the calmest tone of my life. “Do I need to remind you that you share no blood relation with her?” Silence. I hung up. The world was clean. I muted my phone, threw it on the bed, finished packing my small canvas bag, and returned to my college dorm. The next day, I appeared in my major class on time, sitting in the front row. Professor Vance, known for his strictness, announced that our department had an exchange slot with a top international landscape design studio this year. The selected student could go to their headquarters for a three-month real project. One sentence dropped a bomb in the classroom. Everyone started whispering, eyes shining. Me too. This wasn’t just an opportunity; it was a boat that could carry me out of this suffocating water. But Professor Vance’s next words poured a bucket of cold water on me. He said, to ensure the student completes the project, a deposit of $5,000 was required. Five thousand. All the money in my pocket added up to less than three hundred. I needed money. Ask the Sterlings? Impossible. I started living in the library, drawing until my knuckles were sore. At the same time, I took three part-time jobs. Grinding beans at a coffee shop in the morning, tutoring math in the afternoon, and delivering food on a second-hand e-bike at night. My life was packed full. Tired? Yes. sometimes after the last delivery, sitting on the curb, I didn’t even have the strength to lift my arm. But when I stuffed the few bills earned that day—smelling of ink and sweat—into my pocket, I felt a void in my heart being filled a little. This money was clean. It smelled better than any dish on the Sterling family table. I thought my life and the Sterlings’ had become parallel lines. Unexpectedly, someone insisted on twisting them together. That night, after delivering food, I was eating a discounted rice ball in a convenience store when my phone screen lit up. A message from a classmate I was somewhat close with. She sent a screenshot of Stella’s Instagram. In the photo, Ethan was gently putting an expensive necklace on her. Circled in the screenshot were comments between Stella and Ethan. Stella: “Brother, I heard from classmates that Sister is working several jobs recently.” Ethan replied with a question mark. Stella added: “Is she scraping money for that exchange project? Sigh, it’s all our fault. If not for that day… she wouldn’t have left home in anger and suffered so much outside. Should we help her? A girl alone outside, what if she gets tricked by bad people for money?” Below that paragraph, a row of likes from mutual friends looked particularly glaring. I stared at the text, reeking of manipulation, and finished my rice ball expressionlessly. She always had a way to keep herself clean while splashing dirty water on me. Left home in anger? Tricked for money? With a few light words, she defined my efforts and persistence as a farce staged for sympathy. And my “good brother” inevitably believed it. Sure enough, my phone vibrated. A transfer notification popped up. From Ethan. Amount: $10,000. Followed by a cold, contemptuous message. “Short on money? Is playing the victim fun? Name your price.” Chapter 3 I turned off my phone, ignored the transfer, and continued delivering food the next day. On the day of the anonymous showcase, my design “Homing” was projected on the big screen. Professor Vance’s voice echoed in the lecture hall, with rare excitement: “This work has spirit and warmth. It doesn’t show off skills, but every line tells a complete story.” The audience was silent for three seconds, then exploded. Sitting in the corner, my palms holding the pen were sweaty. This was the boat I built line by line over countless nights. Now, it really seemed ready to set sail. The final list would be announced the next evening. But the night before, just as I finished the final check and was about to save the file, the computer screen went black. Then blue. A bunch of error codes I didn’t understand. The fan stopped, the hum of the hard drive vanished. Dead silence. I slumped in my chair, drained of all strength, mind blank. Restart. Restart again. Nothing but the cold blue screen. All my drafts, data, every byte I exchanged with my sweat—gone. A chill rushed from my soles to my skull. I remembered the venomous look Stella gave me at the venue. I stood up abruptly, grabbed my coat, and rushed out. I stormed back to the Sterling villa and kicked open Stella’s door. She was applying a mask, relaxing in bed with her iPad. My intrusion startled her. “What did you do?” My voice shook violently. She took off the mask, revealing a pure, innocent face, eyes watery: “Sister, what’s wrong? Who made you angry?” “My computer.” I stared at her dead on. “My files.” She laughed as if hearing a huge joke. “Sister, what nonsense are you talking about? What does your computer have to do with me?” Just then, my parents and Ethan rushed in. They saw a menacing me and a tearful, pitiful Stella. Vanessa shielded Stella immediately, glaring at me: “Nora! Are you crazy? Barging into your sister’s room at night? Stella is weak, do you want to scare her to death?” Richard also darkened his face: “Outrageous! Apologize to your sister!” I ignored them, staring at Stella. Deep in her eyes, a trace of triumph hadn’t faded yet. Enough. I understood everything. “Jealousy,” Ethan’s icy voice crashed down like a poisoned knife. “Jealousy has made you unrecognizable. Stella won so many awards, and you never felt happy for her once. Now that you lost your stuff, you run back to blame her?” He walked up to me, looking down with disdain and disgust: “Is the money I gave you not enough? Do you have to use such dirty tricks to get attention? Nora, you disgust me.” I looked at them. These three blood relatives stood like three walls, separating me and Stella into two worlds. Each of them used the sharpest words to slice me, cut by cut. I suddenly smiled. Laughed until tears came out. I said nothing, turned, and left. Vanessa’s crying and Ethan’s scolding came from behind, but I couldn’t hear a word. Back in the empty dorm, I slid down against the door, a shell with no soul. Outside, neon lights flickered, but none shone for me. It’s over. Everything is over. Just as I was about to sink completely into darkness, my phone screen lit up. Ding. A new email. Sender: Anonymous. I clicked it with trembling hands. In the attachment, a zip file. I downloaded and unzipped it like a robot. The folder name: “Homing.” I clicked it. All my original drafts, modeling data, backups. Everything was there. The email body had only one sentence. “Your talent should not be buried.” I froze.

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On New Year’s Eve, I took a five-hour sketchy ride to deliver adult toys to Julian Vance. He blocked the door, not letting me in. “This isn’t for you.” “She’s too innocent. She doesn’t trust anyone else to deliver this.” He took the bag, glanced inside: “She was worried you bought the wrong size.” “If it’s too big, I guess you’ll be the one enjoying it.” He thought of something and laughed softly. “The girl inside is too pure. If it’s too big, she won’t let me in.” Chapter 1 The door closed right in front of my face. I stood there, frozen. It took me a while to process what he meant. What did he mean by… I’ll be the one enjoying it? When Julian called me, his voice was husky, urgent. “Come to me… hnnng… fuck.” The call ended. Soon, he sent a location pin. I thought he missed me during his business trip. Carrying the toys he requested, I couldn’t take the train due to security checks, so I squeezed into an illegal cab. Arriving at the hotel. I was shaken to the bone. But he stopped me at the door. “Vivian, give me the bag. Go back tonight. The company needs you.” I was stunned. Through the door. A woman’s soft, sugary voice drifted out. “Ah, is Sister Vivian really here?” “Yes, your idol Vivian delivered it. Now, can I…” “Mmhmm…” Inside the room, the voices of a man and a woman faded away. Only broken whimpers occasionally leaked out. Housekeeping passed by. My heart jumped. I moved my feet in a panic. A numb sensation shot from my soles to my heart. The cleaning lady steadied me. She glanced at the room. “The guest has been at it since check-in. You don’t need to listen at the door, honey.” Chapter 2 Return trip. No trains at this hour. I don’t remember how I found a ride back. When I snapped back to reality. I saw the group chat spamming messages. Everyone was congratulating Bella for signing the Miami contract. Her DM came quickly. [Sister Vivian, I did it! I did it!] Attached was a cute bear emoji clenching its fist. I replied with a “Congratulations.” Alone, staring at the computer. I knew that deal was definitely not her doing. Julian and I were hired by the same company right out of college. Sales Department. We ran neck and neck. Competing for first place. From mutual dislike to a strange mutual appreciation. Until he approached me privately. “Vivian, I want to build something of my own. Will you join me?” The terms were tempting. No capital investment needed. Just my help, and I could get nearly half the equity. We rooted ourselves in the city. Shoulder to shoulder. On his birthday, we drank a little. He held my hand and we lay in his rental apartment. He said: “Vivian, having you is my luck.” I always thought. We were partners in every sense… Ability, methods, even in bed, we were perfectly compatible. But I never expected… today, I couldn’t even enter his hotel room. Chapter 3 When Julian returned. He tossed an exquisite gift box on my desk, raising an eyebrow: “For you. Happy New Year.” I didn’t speak. He picked up my mug, took a sip, and frowned slightly, “It’s cold. What’s wrong? You look unhappy.” I wanted to ask. What have I been to him all these years? But he misunderstood. He raised his hands in surrender, “My bad. Asking our VP Vivian to run errands for my hookup. How much was it? Fare, plus the toys.” He smirked at me. “I’ll pay you back ten times.” A knock on the office door. Bella peeked in. Her gaze landed on my mug, then quickly looked away. She walked awkwardly. Strange. Julian teased, “No need to hide it in front of your Sister Vivian. If it hurts down there, rest here.” Instantly. Bella’s face turned beet red. She glared at him fiercely, “Don’t talk nonsense in front of Sister Vivian!” I suddenly felt very annoyed. The girl clenched her fist at him, holding a pink gift bag with both hands, placing it on my desk. “Sister Vivian, thank you for mentoring me. “This is a gift I brought back specially for you!” Bella ran off after delivering the gift. Julian stared at the door for a long time. He sighed to me, “Little girl, so pure and kind. Vivian, even you should feel ashamed compared to her.” Clusters of anger could no longer be suppressed. I turned cold. “Since Mr. Vance understands human nature so well, you shouldn’t have chosen me as a partner back then.” He paused. “What? Did you eat dynamite? So fierce early in the morning?” Chapter 4 To celebrate the Miami contract signing. Julian decided to treat the entire Sales Department to a team-building retreat. Sales has always been under my command. Since the department was named, I couldn’t refuse. But when the message reached me, my first reaction was still to decline. I replied to Julian that I needed to study the Chicago file. Before clock-out time. The Sales team had already left. Silence. But I couldn’t read a single word. My mind was filled with images of Julian flirting with her. “I have strong business skills, but I always like being the nice guy.” Julian said this about me. He set a rule for me. I can only teach new hires how to close deals, not give them deals directly. But this time, he broke our agreement. Thoughts were messy. Bella suddenly video called me. Upon answering, employees called me over one by one, obviously having fun. I smiled and refused. Bella suddenly pointed the camera at an artisanal tea set sold at the hotel. She asked me: “Sister Vivian, isn’t this pretty?” Before I could answer. Her voice came through. “I’ll buy it for you. This way, you won’t have to use the same tea set as Mr. Vance, right?” In the video. Dead silence. The camera panned slowly, freezing on Julian’s helpless expression. “Bella, stop messing around.” The video cut off. But soon, Bella posted on her Instagram Story. The photo showed Julian paying. Caption: [People without boundaries, no matter how nice they seem, become annoying.]

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