In my past life, my husband was pushed into the sea and drowned by the woman he always loved. While I was still in shock, trying to handle his funeral arrangements, the police arrested me. The surveillance footage showed me pushing him overboard. But at that exact moment, I was in my cabin with my stepfather, discussing business. I had a perfect alibi. I asked my stepfather to testify for me. Instead, he told the police my company was facing financial ruin and I had planned to kill my husband for the insurance money. Was this man really my father? The result, of course, was a conviction for murder and a death sentence. Until my final breath, I couldn’t understand why everyone said I killed him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the ship, just before my husband fell. I went straight to security. I told them I was going to murder my husband soon and that they needed to arrest me immediately. They thought I was crazy and ignored me. Desperate, I started smashing things and acting like a lunatic until they finally detained me. Only then could I breathe a sigh of relief. 1 “Excuse me? You said you’re going to kill someone?” I tapped the face of my watch frantically. “Yes! It’s 5:05 PM. In twenty minutes, my husband, Chase, is going to go overboard by my hand. You need to arrest me. Now.” The air in the grand atrium seemed to freeze. The security officer looked me up and down like I belonged in a straitjacket. “I’ve never had a killer confess before the crime. Are you high? Or just off your meds?” “I’m not lying! Detain me now, and in twenty minutes you’ll see I’m telling the truth!” The officer frowned, his disdain obvious. “Look, ma’am, if this is some kind of roleplay you and your husband are into, fine. But don’t disturb our work.” He started to walk away. Panic surged through me. I grabbed a large ceramic vase from a pedestal and hurled it at the floor. Smash! The sound of shattering pottery echoed through the hall. Tourists screamed and turned to stare. “Are you crazy?!” the young officer shouted. He reached for me, but I started grabbing anything I could reach—ashtrays, decorative plates—throwing them like a maniac. “What is security doing? Grab her!” “We paid thousands for a luxury cruise, not to watch a mental breakdown!” The crowd’s anger boiled over. I acted like a woman possessed, smashing everything in the lobby until the Head of Security arrived with backup. They tackled me to the ground, twisting my arms behind my back and slapping on the cuffs. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” the young officer told his boss, panting. “She walked up, said she was gonna kill someone, and when I didn’t arrest her, she started destroying the lobby.” The cold steel against my skin made me feel safer than I had in years. “Take her to the brig. Watch her. Don’t let her cause any more trouble.” The brig was empty. I closed my eyes and counted the seconds. In my last life, this was a family trip. Chase’s “one that got away,” Sarah, had begged to come along. I had refused at first. But Chase insisted. He said Sarah was getting married soon and moving to Europe; this was her final send-off. I reluctantly agreed. I didn’t know that while they were watching the sunset on the deck, they would argue, and Sarah would shove him overboard. I had tried to get the crew to save him, but the sun had set, and the waves were too rough. By morning, he was gone. Before I could even mourn, the authorities came for me. “We have probable cause to detain you for the death of Chase Miller.” I was shocked. “Sarah pushed him! I saw it from the balcony! You have the wrong person!” But they showed me the footage. It was me in the video. I looked to my stepfather, Richard, for help. He just shook his head. “Chloe, you have to pay for your crimes.” I couldn’t believe he was lying. I was with him when Chase fell. It was all a lie. “Chloe Vance, just confess. Everyone on deck saw you do it.” One person can lie. But a whole deck of witnesses? A security camera? I went to my execution screaming that it was Sarah. Now, I sat in the brig, waiting. 2 Tick. Tock. Suddenly, a dull thud vibrated through the hull, barely audible over the engine’s hum. Screams erupted from the deck above. I knew it. Chase had gone over. Moments later, heavy boots pounded down the hallway. The young officer kicked the door open. He froze when he saw me. “How… you’re still here?” Before he could finish, a mob of tourists pushed past him. “That’s her! She’s the killer! I saw her push him!” “Don’t let her escape! We all saw it!” A guy in a flashy shirt was holding up a phone, live-streaming. “Yo, chat! We caught the killer! Like and subscribe to see justice served!” I turned away from the camera, rattling my handcuffs against the pipe I was tethered to. “What’s going on? I’ve been chained here the whole time.” The mob paused, confused, looking at my restraints. “Ask the guard,” I said loudly. “I caused a scene in the lobby. He arrested me. He has the key.” The young officer nodded slowly. “Yeah… I locked her up twenty minutes ago. The key has been in my pocket. She couldn’t have been on deck.” In my last life, I was too busy trying to save Chase to notice the trap closing. This time, I had the ultimate alibi. The crowd murmured. “Did we get the wrong person?” “I saw her smashing vases earlier. It took three guys to take her down.” “Move, let us through! We need to find the real killer!” The streamer looked disappointed. “False alarm, guys?” Just then, Sarah pushed through the crowd, her face twisted in grief and rage. “Chloe! You heartless monster! Chase wanted a divorce, so you killed him?!” “Everyone! The man in the water is her husband! She killed him!” Sarah sobbed theatrically. “Poor Chase… he was willing to give up everything to be free of you, but you wouldn’t let him go!” The crowd’s mood swung instantly. “It was her husband? That’s sick.” “If they were divorcing, she definitely had a motive.” “Look at her face, she looks guilty as hell!” I tried to speak, but the streamer guy kicked me hard in the ribs. I was chained and couldn’t dodge. I curled up on the floor, groaning. The chat on his screen went wild. User123: Kick her again! Justice for Chase! AlphaMale88: Typical toxic ex. She needs a lesson. Encouraged, the mob surged forward. I took hits, my hair pulled, my face scratched. “Enough!” The Head of Security slammed his baton against the doorframe. “Back off! This is a holding cell, not a octagon. Back off or you all go in the brig!” The crowd retreated. I pulled myself up, wiping blood from my lip. “I didn’t kill anyone,” I said, my voice cold. “If you don’t believe me, check the security tapes in this room.” 3 The young officer scrambled to the console. He pulled up the footage. It showed me sitting there, handcuffed, the entire time. The crowd went silent. Sarah’s eyes darted around nervously. “You can’t just check this room! Check the deck! The crime scene!” The Head of Security pulled up the deck feed. On the screen, Chase and I were standing in a secluded corner of the deck. We were arguing. Suddenly, the “Chloe” on the screen screamed, shoved Chase violently over the rail, and ran away. The video ended. My mind raced. The woman on the screen looked exactly like me. Same height, same build. But it was Sarah who was with him. How did she turn into me? The internet chat was confused too. SimpSlayer: Wait, how can she be in two places at once? CSI_Miami_Fan: Is she a twin? Or is that a deepfake? LawyerUp: If she has an alibi in custody, the video evidence is compromised. Reasonable doubt. “It’s the same person!” Sarah shrieked, pointing at the screen. “Look closely! It’s Chloe!” “When one spouse dies, the other is always the prime suspect!” “She probably bribed these guards! Don’t let her trick you!” Before I could defend myself, my stepfather, Richard, burst into the room. Slap! His hand connected hard with my cheek. “Chloe! I didn’t raise you to be a murderer!” “I told you I would fix the company’s debt! You didn’t have to kill Chase for the insurance money!” Richard threw a stack of documents onto the floor. The streamer zoomed in. CryptoKing: Holy sht! Two life insurance policies! Twenty million dollars!* TradWife4Life: She did it for the money. Disgusting. Sarah smirked through her fake tears. “Witnesses, video evidence, and motive. It’s over, Chloe. You’re going to rot in prison.” “A life for a life!” the mob chanted. Even the young officer looked at me with disgust now. Suddenly, my phone rang. The guard looked at his boss, who nodded. He uncuffed one of my hands so I could answer. “Are you going to order a hit on us too?” Sarah sneered. I ignored her. It was my assistant. I listened to the report, and a smile spread across my face. Richard wiped his fake tears. “Chloe, admit it. I can’t protect you anymore. I demand the police prosecute you to the fullest!” If I hadn’t lived through this before, I would have been heartbroken by his betrayal. I laughed, a dry, hollow sound. “Dad. You loved Chase so much. Is it because he’s actually your biological son?” Richard froze. “You crazy bitch, what are you saying?” “I raised you! I treated you like my own! And this is the thanks I get?” I looked straight into the streamer’s camera lens. “Stop acting. I know everything. Chase is your illegitimate son.” “Isn’t that right… Chase?” 4 The room went dead silent. ConspiracyTheory101: Wait, is the victim… not dead? OceanLover: If he fell into the ocean at night, he’s shark food. She’s bluffing. Sarah stepped forward. “Chase is gone! How dare you disrespect the dead!” Richard clutched his chest. “You are accusing me of… this is insane! I would never hurt my own daughter!” “Daughter?” I scoffed. “If I was your daughter, would you be so eager to see me executed? You just want me out of the way so you and your son can enjoy the payout.” “We can do a DNA test right now. Let’s see who his real father is.” The crowd murmured. Richard’s reaction was too suspicious. Richard gritted his teeth. “I raised you! That’s more than blood! And now you treat me like a dog!” Sarah jumped in. “Richard is a saint! You’re the monster! You killed his son!” I laughed. “No, Sarah. You killed him.” “Or tried to.” “You weren’t in your room like you planned. You got greedy.” Sarah turned pale. “I… I was in my room!” “Really? Because I have proof you weren’t.” I lunged at her. The crowd screamed and scattered. Sarah shrieked and dodged, but the man in black standing behind her—her “bodyguard”—wasn’t fast enough. I tackled him. His cap flew off. His mask slipped. The face beneath was scarred, horrific. But I recognized the eyes.

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My granddaughter was brutally assaulted by her classmates. But instead of apologizing, the bully’s parents were incredibly arrogant. I went to the school, but the school was too afraid to intervene. I went to the police, but they told me to let it go. With nowhere left to turn, I took out the two Distinguished Service Crosses left behind by my son and daughter-in-law, and I collapsed in front of the military base gates. Six years ago, when the General delivered these medals to my home, he said something I never forgot. He said my son and his wife gave their lives for this country. That they were heroes. That they were the pride of the nation. Now, I want to ask him one question: Why is it that when a hero’s daughter is humiliated and abused, no one cares? 1 Because my granddaughter, Lily, is an orphan, she became the perfect target for the school bully. She was dragged into a bathroom and beaten for seven hours. Now, she lies in the ICU, fighting for her life. But Bella, the ringleader of the bullies, showed no fear. “I don’t care if you sue me. I know the law. I’m a minor. Worst case scenario, I get a slap on the wrist and some community service. I won’t go to prison.” She chewed her gum loudly, looking bored. There was not a shred of remorse in her eyes. The bully’s father was even more dismissive. “Look, old lady, you’re dragging this out because you want a payout, right?” “I can give you money. But you have to sign this settlement agreement. It states that your granddaughter’s injuries were accidental, caused by a fall, and have nothing to do with my daughter!” He pulled a stack of cash—ten thousand dollars—from his designer bag and threw it in my face. He smirked. “Your grandkid takes a beating, and you walk away with ten grand. You hit the jackpot, Grandma.” I stood there, hunched over, trembling as I looked through the glass at my granddaughter. She was covered in wires and tubes. Under the hospital gown, her body was a map of agony. Burns, cuts, bruises—layer upon layer. I couldn’t imagine the despair she felt during those seven hours. She is a human being. But to these people, her pain was just a number on a check. My heart felt like it was being shredded. I grabbed the edge of his expensive suit jacket, my voice shaking. “No. I want justice. You have to answer for this!” Bella’s father looked disgusted. He shoved me away violently. I lost my balance and hit the cold hospital floor hard. Crash. The bottle of blood pressure pills in my pocket shattered. My crumpled dollar bills scattered across the floor. And with them, two heavy, cross-shaped medals fell with a metallic clatter. I scrambled to pick them up, but his polished leather shoe stepped right on them. He sneered. “You crazy old hag. If you don’t like it, sue me. But let me tell you, the Chief Judge is my cousin. Good luck with that.” The school principal, standing nearby, signaled for them to leave, urging them not to “agitate the victim’s family.” Father and daughter walked away, laughing. I carefully picked up the medals, now smudged with dirt from his shoe. I looked at my unconscious Lily, and the tears I had been holding back finally broke free. 2 The principal helped me up, putting on a mask of fake sympathy. “Eleanor, look. The Thorne family has money and power. You’re an old woman living on a pension and recycling cans. How can you fight them? Just sign the paper, take the money, and let it go.” “If you keep making a scene, it will only damage the school’s reputation. What will the other parents think?” I was shocked. His first thought was the school’s Yelp review, not justice for a child. This man was an educator. My granddaughter was put in the hospital by a sadistic bully, and he was talking about reputation? This was assault. This was a crime! “Money? You think this ends with money?” I cried. “Shouldn’t the abuser be punished?” Seeing that I wouldn’t budge, the principal lost his patience. “They are willing to pay! What more do you want? Do you want to ruin a young girl’s future?” He pulled a file from his briefcase and threw it onto my lap. “If you don’t sign the settlement, Lily can’t attend our school anymore. We have a zero-tolerance policy for drama.” I couldn’t believe it. To protect the bully, the principal was expelling the victim. He laughed coldly. “Like Mr. Thorne said, his family runs the legal circles here. You won’t win a lawsuit. And the school isn’t going to offend a major donor for a charity case like Lily.” Clutching Lily’s file, I leaned against the cold hospital wall. A suffocating darkness pressed down on my chest. We didn’t do anything wrong. Why are we the ones being punished? 3 After composing myself, I went back into the room. When Lily woke up, she curled into a ball under the sheets, refusing to come out. Seeing her trembling form, my heart broke all over again. I gently pulled the blanket back and hugged her. She buried her face in my chest, sobbing. “Grandma, it hurts… everything hurts…” “Bella and her friends… they said I have no mom and dad, so I deserve to be beaten. But I do have parents, right?” “Mom and Dad said they would come back when I turned ten. I’m fifteen now. Why aren’t they back? Did I do something wrong? Do they hate me?” “Is it because I stole that candy when I was little?” “Grandma, please tell them I’m sorry. I won’t eat candy anymore. I’ll be good…” “I miss them so much… If they were here, nobody would dare hurt me…” Her innocent cries were like knives stabbing my soul. I clutched the medals in my pocket, the sharp edges digging into my palm. Six years ago, when the military officers gave me these medals, I hid them. I never let Lily see them. If she saw them, she would know the truth: that “missing in action” was a lie. That they were never coming home. I bit my lip, forcing the tears back. Oh, my sweet child. How can I tell you that your heroes are gone forever? “Grandma, you said bad kids get punished. I didn’t do anything. Why did they hurt me?” I stroked her hair, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Lily, you are a good girl. They are the bad ones.” “And bad people will get punished. I promise.” Lily looked at me with tear-filled eyes, desperate for hope. Once she fell asleep, I rode my rusty tricycle to the police station. But the officer’s response sent me plunging into despair. Mr. Thorne was the wealthiest developer in the city. His family had deep ties to local government. The police looked at my faded clothes and my hands, calloused from years of hard labor. The officer sighed heavily, pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet, and pressed it into my hand. He looked at me with pity. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. We can’t do much without hard evidence, and there were no cameras in that bathroom. His cousin is the District Attorney. Even the state senator knows him. You should just… try to move on.” Even the police were helpless. I walked out of the station, feeling like the sky was collapsing on me. Just then, my phone buzzed. I opened the message, and my blood ran cold. It was a video. A video of Lily being tortured. 4 In the video, Lily was cornered in the bathroom stall. A group of girls took turns slapping her face. My granddaughter was curled in the corner, crying helplessly. “Look at her,” a voice sneered. “No daddy, no mommy. She was born to be our punching bag.” The camera zoomed in on Lily’s terrified face. My hands shook so hard I almost dropped the phone. I couldn’t watch anymore. A text message from Bella’s father popped up below the video: [Mr. Thorne]: Enjoy the show, old woman? If you don’t sign that paper, I’ll post this everywhere. I’ll make your granddaughter a viral joke. Then, he sent another photo. A picture of a skinned rabbit. Lily was born in the Year of the Rabbit. It was her favorite animal. I shook with rage. “How can you be so cruel? Do you have no conscience?” I texted back. [Mr. Thorne]: Conscience? Conscience doesn’t pay the bills. I own the court. My daughter could end someone, and she wouldn’t see a jail cell. Your granddaughter is going to live in fear forever. When I tried to reply, I got a notification: You have been blocked. I spent the next day calling every law firm in the city. Every lawyer gave me the same answer: “We can’t take this case. It’s a conflict of interest.” Or simply, “We don’t want trouble with Thorne.” Was there really no justice for Lily? Lily’s mental state was deteriorating. She couldn’t sleep. When she did, she woke up screaming. She told me she was afraid to close her eyes because she saw Bella’s face. I held her as she shook. “Grandma,” she whispered. “I dreamed of Mom and Dad.” “I dreamed we were at Disney World. But then… they got a call. They said the country needed to ‘borrow’ them for a while. They said they’d be back when the mission was over.” “Grandma… when does the mission end? When will the country give them back to me?” “If I could just have them for one day… just one day…” “Why don’t the bad guys get punished, Grandma?” I patted her back, unable to speak. The feeling of powerlessness was drowning me.

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During the Christmas shopping rush, my husband, Mark, threw a fit. “You buy way too much stuff every time you go visit your parents!” he snapped. “I make more money than you, but you spend way more. This isn’t fair. From now on, we’re splitting everything 50/50. We’re going Dutch.” I didn’t hesitate. “Deal.” But I laid down three ground rules. “From now on, we sleep in separate rooms. You take care of your parents, I take care of mine. And if you want me to cook or clean, you have to pay a service fee.” One year later, Mark—now living paycheck to paycheck—knelt before me, begging to cancel the agreement. I smiled and handed him the divorce papers. “I think it’s better if we split… permanently.” Chapter 1: The Calculator My husband, Mark, stared at the pile of Christmas gifts stacked against the wall, his brow furrowed. “Do you really need to buy this much for your folks?” His interrogating tone rubbed me the wrong way, but I patiently explained, “I bought two of everything. One set for my family, one set for yours.” In our three years of marriage, I had never played favorites. I always treated both sides equally. But even with me being perfectly fair, Mark wasn’t satisfied. He looked at me with a sneer. “I make $6,000 a month. You only take home about $4,000. Why should the stuff for your family cost the same as the stuff for mine?” “Why do we have to average out the surplus of what I earn? You earn less but spend more. Is that fair?” I felt a lump form in my throat. It was just Christmas gifts. Did he really need to make it a class war? Did we have to rank our families based on income? Seeing my silence, Mark kept going. “My mom has mentioned this a few times. I didn’t care before, but looking at it now, you really are insensible about money.” “So, to be fair and impartial, from now on, we split all expenses 50/50. You spend your money however you want, and I won’t ask questions.” I looked at Mark in disbelief. This was the man I’d slept next to for three years? It seemed he’d held a grudge about our finances for a long time. My mother-in-law had probably been poisoning his ear behind my back, too. I didn’t hesitate. I agreed immediately. “Fine. 50/50 it is. But we’d better set some ground rules so there’s no confusion.” Mark didn’t expect me to agree so quickly. His face lit up. He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes. Clear rules are best. Otherwise, my family will feel cheated.” Cheated? Over daily expenses? I calmly listed the details. “Starting today, we sleep in separate rooms. Rent and utilities are split down the middle. You are responsible for your parents, I am responsible for mine.” “You wash your own boxers and socks; I’m done doing them. If you need me to do laundry or cook, you have to pay me a separate service fee.” “If I cook, the standard is $20 per person per meal. If I do all the housekeeping, you need to pay me $1,500 a month.” I threw out a few numbers, and Mark jumped up. “Fifteen hundred?! For a little housework?” I leaned back on the sofa and gave him a cool look. “If you hire a maid, it’s at least $2,500 a month. You’re free to choose. I can keep my own room clean; I won’t touch the rest of the house.” “If you want to save money, that’s fine. You can wash the dishes, sweep, and mop every day, and dust the furniture once a week…” Before I could finish, Mark interrupted impatiently. “Fine! I’ll pay! Happy now?” I smirked. If I didn’t make him bleed a little cash, he’d really think I was free labor. I pointed to the wall. “I bought those gifts with my salary. You need to go buy your own gifts for your side of the family.” Chapter 2: The Empty-Handed Visit On Christmas Eve, we showed up at my in-laws’ house empty-handed. Mark walked in and immediately sat on the couch to scroll through TikTok. I did the exact same thing. My mother-in-law’s face dropped instantly. “You two are getting ruder by the day. Coming home for Christmas without a single gift? Do you think you’re a princess?” In the past, I would have taken over the kitchen immediately. I would have bought the groceries early in the morning, cooked the entire feast, while the three of them sat and waited to be served. Now, the kitchen was cold and empty. Were they still counting on me? My father-in-law, who had a short temper, started shouting. “Sarah! Look at you! What kind of daughter-in-law acts like this? You don’t even know basic manners anymore?” “We thought you were decent before, but I guess you were just faking it. Now you won’t even keep up appearances?” Watching them jump around in anger actually made me feel great. I used to give them my heart and soul, and I never got a ‘thank you.’ Instead, my mother-in-law would nitpick everything I bought. “These gifts aren’t practical. You don’t know how to run a household! Mark works so hard for his money, seeing you spend it like water hurts my heart!” “Look at this dust. You clean worse than a cheap maid. I don’t know what Mark saw in you.” See? If I do it, I get criticized. So, I might as well do nothing. When they ran out of insults, I spoke up calmly. “Mom, Dad, don’t look at me. Mark proposed we live a 50/50 lifestyle. We agreed: whoever’s parents they are, that person takes care of them. Gifts included.” “We also agreed that my labor isn’t free. So, for tonight’s Christmas dinner, how much is your family planning to invest?” Last year, to ensure my parents had a good holiday, I booked a table at a five-star hotel. It was supposed to be a happy joint family gathering. But my in-laws ruined it. They spent the whole meal bragging about how capable their son was, hinting that I was mooching off Mark. They called me wasteful for booking such an expensive dinner. My mom had fought to pay the bill ages ago—they didn’t need to be so dramatic. The most annoying part was the pressure to have kids. “Sarah, you make so little money and work so much overtime. Is it worth it? This family relies on Mark anyway.” “Since you don’t earn much, you should just focus on your health, have a baby, and stay home to serve the boys.” They looked down on me because my salary was lower than Mark’s. I have hands, I have feet, and I like my job. Why should I sacrifice that? What made it worse was Mark’s attitude. He agreed with them! “Yeah, I cover the mortgage and most of the bills. Does your job really matter?” He made a decent salary, but he acted like he was Elon Musk. Hearing that I wanted to charge for cooking Christmas dinner, my in-laws exploded. My mother-in-law, specifically, started spitting venom. Mark, looking embarrassed, whispered to me, “Just cook first. I’ll give you the money later. Do we have to make everyone miserable today?” I sat on the sofa, unmoved. “We have a deal. Payment first, then work. No credit.” My mother-in-law was about to scream, but my cold glare stopped her. “You guys always say I spend too much. Why don’t you go to the market and see how much holiday groceries actually cost?” “Since we’re going 50/50, you should pay for the ingredients, too.” You care about saving face? Let’s see how long you can keep it up. Chapter 3: The Expensive Grocery Run Usually, Mark’s grandparents, his uncle, and his uncle’s whole family would come over for Christmas dinner. I deliberately didn’t mention buying groceries today. I was waiting for this moment of chaos. Otherwise, they’d just sit there and enjoy the fruits of my labor. My mother-in-law shrieked. “There are ten people coming to eat! How much will that cost?! It’s already afternoon; the markets are closing!” Panicked? Good. I shrugged. “I thought Mark told you. We’re splitting finances. House matters on this side aren’t my problem.” I’d never seen parents like this—just waiting comfortably for their kids to serve them. Whenever we visited, they prepared nothing. Meanwhile, my parents would cook a feast of my favorite dishes and send me home with bags of leftovers. The contrast was chilling. My mother-in-law was pacing like a cat on a hot tin roof. I just played Candy Crush. If I hadn’t seen Mark’s texts to his mom two days ago, I might not have been this cruel. Mark: [Mom, done! Sarah and I are totally separate now. No more worrying about her wasting my money!] MIL: [Oh, finally! I told you that woman was just after your cash. She was probably secretly buying expensive stuff for her parents behind your back!] Mark: [Exactly. Thanks for the heads up, Mom. I didn’t realize how much she was taking advantage of me!] MIL: [With her salary? Why should her family get the same gifts as ours? They don’t deserve it!] Reading those texts made my blood boil. It was time to prep dinner, and there wasn’t even a head of lettuce in the house. Mark couldn’t take it anymore. He dragged me out the door. The regular markets were empty. We had to go to Whole Foods—the only place still open. I didn’t care. I grabbed whatever I wanted and threw it in the cart. King crab, organic ribeye, imported cheeses. Every time I tossed something in, Mark’s face got paler. “Do we need this much? This is too expensive! Can’t we get cheaper cuts?” Oh, now that it’s your money, it hurts? In previous years, I spent over a thousand dollars just on groceries, not counting the imported fruit. Who felt sorry for me then? I stopped the cart and looked at him. “Dinner for ten people. Do you want to serve them hot dogs and beans? I don’t care. It’s not my reputation on the line.” Whole Foods isn’t cheap. Two organic cucumbers cost ten bucks. When I used to buy lobster and grouper, they never complained about the price. My father-in-law even called me stingy for not buying enough. Mark gritted his teeth and let me shop. At the checkout, I grabbed a pack of holiday money envelopes. “Don’t forget the cash gifts for your parents and grandparents. I usually give $500 per person.” “Oh, and for your cousin’s kid? I usually give $100. You figure it out.” Mark looked like he was attending his own funeral. Chapter 4: The Service Fee On the drive back, I told him the cooking fee was $100. Mark’s hand jerked, swerving the car. I said calmly, “Hiring a private chef for a holiday meal is usually $300 minimum. I’m giving you the family discount.” Mark was stuck. Everyone knew his mom’s cooking was hazardous to human health. He gritted his teeth and Venmo’d me $100. I accepted the transfer and went to cook. After dinner, the whole family moved to the living room to watch the football game. I started to follow them, but Mark grabbed me. “Dishwashing is $15 a load. I’ll transfer it now!” I stopped his hand. “$15 is the price for two people on a Tuesday. Look at this mess. Pots, pans, plates for ten people.” “$50. Or do it yourself.” Mark turned purple. He hissed at me in the corner. “Sarah! All you care about is money now? You’re a daughter-in-law of this family. Shouldn’t you do chores?” Oh, now I’m family when there’s scrubbing to do? I glanced at him. “You proposed the 50/50 split. You agreed to keep things clear. What, can’t handle it?” “Why do you have to be so petty?” he argued. “It’s just dishes!” “It’s your house,” I shot back. “Why don’t you do it? Do I owe you labor?” I wasn’t going to be stupid anymore. Mark took home $6,000. His mortgage (his pre-marital asset) was $2,000. He gave me $500 for household expenses and kept the remaining $3,500. I paid for utilities, internet, groceries, cooking, and cleaning. I subsidized both sets of parents. I bought the gifts. When you did the math, I was funding his lifestyle while he built equity. And they still thought I was the leech? Mark didn’t want to lose face in front of his relatives, so he resentfully transferred the $50. Halfway through the game, the grandparents were getting tired. My mother-in-law shot me a look. “Sarah, everyone’s leaving. Get the gifts!” Mark’s cousin’s kid ran over, hands out. “Auntie Sarah, where’s my Christmas money?” Looking at their expectant faces, I realized how idiotic I had been in the past. I used to curate gifts for everyone. I spent thousands. And I got labeled “wasteful.” Let them spend their own money. I patted the kid’s head. “From now on, Uncle Mark is in charge of gifts and money. Go ask him.”

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I am Blair Sterling, the beautiful, wealthy, and fierce daughter of a billionaire tycoon. I am also the villainess in a trashy romance novel. That day, I was enthusiastically bullying the innocent “white lotus” heroine, ready to slap her face, when I suddenly saw her brother running towards us. The slap I had aimed at her face morphed mid-air into a gentle caress. “My dear little sister, I’m your future sister-in-law!” “As long as you help me catch your brother, my black card is yours to swipe~” If I had known her brother was such a breathtaking beauty, who would care about some childhood sweetheart fiancé! 1 I am the rich, gorgeous, and slightly terrifying Blair Sterling. My childhood fiancé fell for a poor, innocent scholarship student named Summer. Consumed by jealousy, I tricked Summer into a deserted corner of the campus to teach her a lesson. Just as I raised my hand to strike, I glimpsed a figure sprinting towards us from the distance. The boy’s face crashed into my vision. Simultaneously, a sharp pain pierced my brain. A flood of memories drowned my mind. Dimly lit rooms, tangled sheets. The air thick and humid with heat. Entwined shadows on the wall under the warm glow of a lamp. In countless R-rated scenes, the protagonist’s face overlapped perfectly with the boy running towards me. It was terrifyingly clear. My raised hand froze in mid-air for a few seconds. Then, it landed gently on Summer’s cheek. Summer, who had squeezed her eyes shut and braced for impact, slowly opened them. After a moment of confusion, she looked at me with stubborn hatred. “Blair Sterling, if you dare to hit me, I’ll call the police! Others might be afraid of your family’s power, but I’m not!” My vicious expression instantly melted into one of tender affection. I stroked Summer’s smooth cheek. Smiling, I said, “Misunderstanding, total misunderstanding.” “Sister, I’m your future sister-in-law~” “I was just about to kiss you, why would I hit you?” “I would never do something so barbaric.” I quickly signaled the two lackeys holding Summer to let her go and get lost. Summer looked at me, completely flabbergasted. She couldn’t believe her ears. “What are you talking about?” I looked at her with sincere eyes. “I like your brother. I only blocked you here to see him.” “Let go of my sister!” Caleb rushed up, shoving me away forcefully. I took the opportunity to stumble, falling straight into his arms. My hands wrapped around the boy’s lean, muscular waist. Caleb was caught off guard by my sudden embrace. He scolded coldly, “Let go!” I held on for dear life, pressing my whole body against him. I looked up with a sweet smile. “If I let her go, I can’t let you go.” Under my burning gaze, Caleb’s ears turned red. He looked away uncomfortably and pushed me away with force. He pushed too hard, and I landed on my butt on the concrete. He checked on his sister, asking with concern, “Are you okay?” Summer was still dazed. Clearly, she hadn’t processed my sudden confession. “No, I’m fine.” “She… this must be a misunderstanding.” I pretended to be injured, clutching my leg and wailing. I squeezed out two crocodile tears and looked at Caleb pitifully. “It hurts.” I tried to stand up, then fell back down. Caleb’s face was cold. He hesitated for a moment, then crouched in front of me, offering his back. “Get on. I’ll carry you to the nurse’s office.” I climbed onto his back, wrapping my arms around his neck. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, secretly inhaling his scent. A smile of pure satisfaction spread across my face. Summer, watching my little act with her jaw on the floor, looked like her brain was short-circuiting. I grinned and put a finger to my lips, signaling her to keep quiet. Nineteen-year-old Caleb was cold and reserved. Top student, good temper, a perfect gentleman. But I knew that beneath that calm exterior lay a hidden madness and obsession. Caleb silently carried me towards the nurse’s office. Summer watched us, wanting to say something but stopping herself. He frowned, clearly conflicted. I stared at Caleb’s profile, recalling the memories flooding my brain. My heart felt sour yet nostalgic. I couldn’t help but press my lips behind his ear, gently kissing his skin. The person carrying me went rigid. He abruptly let go, dropping me. Flustered and angry, he shouted, “What are you doing?!” I instinctively stood up, forgetting my lie about the leg pain. Caleb stared at my perfectly functional legs, his face darkening. His voice was icy. “Is lying fun for you?” “Or is playing people just a game?” Crap. He’s genuinely angry. I walked up to Caleb, trying to appease him. “I was wrong, don’t be mad.” Then, under Caleb’s shocked gaze, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. He pushed me away violently. His handsome face was flushed red. His voice trembled with anger. “Are you crazy?!” I sat on the ground, looking wronged. “I was apologizing to you.” “Who taught you to apologize like that?!” My future Caleb, of course! 2 I was reborn. In my past life, because my fiancé fell for Summer, I became consumed by jealousy. I bullied her relentlessly, trying everything to destroy their relationship. When I found out my fiancé broke off our engagement, my jealousy burned away my reason. I planned to drug his drink. I wanted to cook the rice so he’d have to take responsibility. But by a twist of fate, the person who drank the drugged wine was Caleb. In the dim room, the usually cold man turned into a savage beast. Ignoring my curses and pleas, he ravaged me. I tried to run away crying, but he dragged me back again and again. Finally, I fell unconscious. Even in my sleep, I found no peace. In my dream, I was on a small boat, drifting in endless darkness, rocking with the waves until dawn. When I woke up, I didn’t dare make a sound. I could only grit my teeth and swallow the humiliation. Later, I found an opportunity to capture Caleb and lock him in my villa’s basement. To beat him and vent my anger. In the basement, Caleb’s hands were chained. His body was covered in whip marks. “You dog! Who allowed you to look at me like that!” Caleb had a spine of steel. No matter how I beat or scolded him, he maintained that indifferent face. His eyes were as black as the abyss, unsettling. He smirked, “I’m a dog, but you were still ridden by me.” I trembled with rage. I slapped Caleb hard across the face. He puffed out his cheek, looking calm. My hand was red and stinging. I hurt myself hitting him. Furious, I drugged him and left him in the basement. Watching Caleb suffer on the monitor was the only thing that made me feel better. The boy’s black hair was soaked with sweat. His eyes were bloodshot, crazy like a trapped beast. The chains clanked as he pulled at them. Finally, he suddenly looked up, staring straight at me through the camera. That look terrified me. My heart skipped a beat. Then Caleb went still. I watched for a while, feeling uneasy. I didn’t want to kill him, just teach him a lesson. I rushed to the basement to check on him. He was unresponsive, burning up with fever, completely passed out. Afraid he might die, I quickly unlocked his chains. Suddenly, Caleb, who was feigning unconsciousness, grabbed me. The beast revealed his fangs and claws, pinning me down and devouring me. I cried and apologized, shaking with fear, fainting in the suffocation and chaos. Caleb used me up and ran away. Not long after, I fell from being a billionaire heiress to a penniless nobody. My father died suddenly, and his illegitimate son appeared out of nowhere with a will, inheriting everything. I was kicked out of the Sterling family with a paternity test stating I wasn’t my father’s child. Years later, Caleb transformed from a poor boy into a business tycoon. He found me selling trinkets on the street. Like I had imprisoned him, he locked me in his estate as a canary. From struggling at first to completely giving up later, I accepted it. He was handsome, rich, and good in bed. I treated it as a free ride. Not a loss. He kept me for over a decade until he died in a shipwreck. When the lawyer read his will, I was shocked to find he left me an inheritance large enough to live lavishly for the rest of my life. The villa we lived in was also under my name. Six months after Caleb died, I missed him so much I couldn’t sleep. For over ten years, his imprisonment seemed like revenge, but he treated me well. Aside from not letting me leave, he gave me the best of everything. I was the only one by his side. Because of me, he fought with his sister and barely spoke to her. I still lived in that villa, often staying in his study reading, because that was where he used to be. There, I accidentally found a familiar diamond hair clip. Freshman year of college, I went to a bar district looking for someone and got dragged into an alley by a drunk. A boy saved me. To thank him, I casually gave him this hair clip. I didn’t know that boy was Caleb. It was dark, and I was too scared to notice his face. I threw the gift and ran. Caleb had kept this clip in an exquisite white box. Once, I saw it and asked, “What’s that? You’re staring at it so intensely.” He looked at me, his tone flat. “A gift from someone I like.” I mocked him, “Unrequited love, huh?” He looked at me deeply and said nothing. So, the person he liked was me. This repressed man, such a tough mouth. I developed severe insomnia. Only by hugging Caleb’s clothes and smelling his scent could I sleep. I belatedly realized my own heart. I loved Caleb. I didn’t cry when I heard of his death. I didn’t cry at his funeral. But in the deep nights without him, I cried countless times. If I could do it all over again, I wanted to date him properly. 3 Caleb, flustered and angry after being tricked and kissed, turned to leave. I tragically discovered that this time, I really had twisted my ankle. “Caleb!” “My foot really hurts!” “It’s true this time, look, it’s swollen.” Summer looked and confirmed, “Brother, her ankle is swollen.” Caleb stopped walking away. He came back, looked at my ankle, and without a word, piggybacked me. He warned, “Touch me again, and I’ll throw you into the lake.” I nodded obediently. … After that, my attitude towards Summer did a 180. “Sister” this, “sister” that. “Blair Sterling, I don’t know you well, stop calling me that!” I forcibly dragged Summer shopping. Clothes, bags, makeup, skincare, jewelry—I bought a pile. When parting, I stuffed all the bags into her hands. Smiling, I said, “Just a little meeting gift from your sister-in-law.” “Help me chase your brother, and I’ll take care of you for life.” Summer was conflicted. She tried to return the items. Painfully, she said, “I won’t betray my brother!” I pulled out VIP tickets to her idol’s concert. Her eyes lit up, and her last bit of hesitation vanished. “You are my real sister-in-law!” Having bribed Summer, I got all of Caleb’s part-time job addresses. Whenever I was free, I went to find him. Impatiently, he asked, “What do you want?” “I’m chasing you, isn’t it obvious?” Caleb looked at me coldly. “You see this? I’m poor and busy. I don’t have time for your love games.” Caleb worked at a bar on weekend nights. When he saw me, his face instantly darkened. He grabbed my hand and dragged me out. Sternly, he said, “Go back!” Of course, I didn’t go back. “Agree to be my boyfriend, and I’ll listen to you.” He silently suppressed his anger. Leaving a “Suit yourself,” he ignored me. But I knew he was secretly watching me, even asking colleagues to keep an eye on me. I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, Caleb was gone. Just as I was looking for him, the bar lights dimmed. The music stopped. Then the crowd screamed. Pink and purple lights lit up the center stage. Five boys in black pants and white shirts, eyes covered with black silk scarves, sat facing chair backs. Straddling the chairs, they moved their bodies slowly to the sexy music. I recognized Caleb, second from the left, immediately. I was shocked. The aloof and proud Caleb was dancing seductively for money. My eyes were glued only to him. Watching his hand glide up his long neck, gently rubbing. Then slowly sliding down. Finally, casually unbuttoning the top two buttons of his white shirt. Revealing exquisite, pale collarbones. This stimulating scene made me blush and my heart race. As the music peaked, the lead dancer ripped open all his buttons. His lean, muscular waist was fully exposed. The audience screamed deafeningly. I was just glad the four backup dancers didn’t need to strip. Otherwise, I might have rushed onto the stage to dress Caleb. I never knew he could dance. Or that he was this financially desperate at this time. After the dance, there was a game. Those chosen by the spotlight could feed the lead dancer a lollipop mouth-to-mouth. Five people were chosen. I was the last lucky one. From being chosen to walking to the stage, I felt Caleb’s gaze following me. Just as the lead dancer bent down to feed me the lollipop, Caleb suddenly appeared next to him. He pulled me over. One hand cupped the back of my head, feeding the lollipop he was holding in his mouth to mine. I instinctively opened my mouth. The sweet and sour candy spread in my mouth. Through the lace on his eyes, our gazes met amidst the screaming crowd. My heartbeat was like thunder. I was dizzy with sweetness.

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In my past life, I was abused to death. Because I saved my mother in a car accident, I became a high-level paraplegic. My whole family despised me, and my mother would always hold my cousin’s hand and say, “This is my real daughter.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the car accident. “Mom, this time, it’s your turn to pay the debt.” 1 “The brakes failed! Run!” A scream rang in my ears, and I looked ahead in disbelief. An eighteen-wheeler, brakes gone, was careening down the road straight at my mother. My mother had twisted her ankle and couldn’t run. This scene was so familiar. I instantly realized I had been reborn, back to the day of the car accident when I was sixteen. The truck was hurtling towards my mother. She panicked and turned to me for help. “Bella, help Mom! Quick!” In my past life, this was the moment I didn’t hesitate to rush out and pull my mother to safety. Later, my mother was unharmed. But I was in the hospital for a long time, finally ending up a high-level paraplegic, bedridden for life. My mother took care of me for a few days, then got bored and dumped me on a nanny, never asking about me again. Seeing that my family didn’t care about me, the nanny abused me daily. Finally, I died with hatred in my heart. My mother didn’t even come to see me on my deathbed, saying my smell was disgusting. But I was disgusting because I saved her. Coming back to my senses, I looked at everything in front of me, tears welling in my eyes. I didn’t expect that I would have a chance to start over. “Bella… help me, quick!” The truck was close. My mother asked for my help again, her eyes pleading. I just curled my lips at her, withdrew my gaze, and hurriedly retreated to a safer place. After a loud bang, I quietly watched my mother being crushed by the truck and said calmly, “Mom, this time it’s your turn to be the burden.” 2 My mother was sent to the hospital for emergency treatment, and the final result was the same as mine in my previous life: high-level paraplegia. She couldn’t accept the reality and lay in the hospital bed howling all day long. “Why do I have no feeling in my lower body? Ah…” With disheveled hair, she looked like a madwoman. I walked up and said calmly, “Mom, you just can’t walk, you’re still alive, right? It’s embarrassing to shout like this, pay attention to the impact.” My light words made my mother even crazier. She picked up the cup at hand and threw it at me: “You have the nerve to say that! Why didn’t you save me? You are too vicious, I don’t have a daughter like you.” I nimbly dodged the cup and added, “Mom, you are morally kidnapping me by saying that.” She was mad with anger and cursed me frantically: “You vicious thing, has your conscience been eaten by a dog? I am your mother!” Watching her frantic look, I almost laughed out loud. Now she knows she is my mother? But I clearly remember that in my previous life, I just shed a few more tears, and she impatiently said that my shouting was embarrassing, and that if she had known I would morally kidnap her, she would rather I didn’t save her. Later, until I was discharged from the hospital, she didn’t come to see me again, saying that I should learn to face reality and no one owed me anything. Why is it that the same experience is unacceptable when it’s her turn? I thought she was so strong, but it turned out she was just good at talking. Just then, my dad came back from a business trip. He was heartbroken and cried bitterly while holding my mother. He told my mother to rest assured that he would never leave her. My mother believed it and even lamented that she had married a good husband. But she was too naive. In my past life, my dad cared about me for a while. But when the guilt faded, he, like my mother, ignored me. Later, my mother brought my cousin Ashley home. He forgot about me even more, treating my cousin as his own daughter, and even drove me to the basement when my cousin mocked me for smelling too bad. If he was so heartless to his own daughter related by blood, how could he be good to a wife not related by blood? 3 After my mother became paralyzed, she yelled at us all day long and always suspected that my dad had changed his heart and had a woman outside. We ignored her, and she began to curse us with foul language. “You two heartless things, is this how you treat me? You will be struck by lightning. Bella, you little bitch, if you weren’t greedy for life and afraid of death, would I be paralyzed? Treating your own mother like this, you will go to hell.” I picked my ears and pretended not to hear. She had nowhere to vent her anger and was anxious to vomit blood. And my dad’s attitude was indeed as I expected. At first, he comforted her patiently, but over time he revealed his true form and became impatient, pointing at her and scolding loudly: “Shut up, Bella and I don’t owe you anything. You insisted on going shopping, and now that something has happened, it’s your own fault.” Then he found a reliable nanny to take care of her and hid far away himself. I wasn’t willing to do that. I specifically dismissed the competent nanny and went to the agency for a long time before I finally found the nanny, Mrs. Zhang, who had abused me in my previous life. Originally, she was unwilling to take care of paralyzed patients because she was used to being lazy and gluttonous, and was often fired by employers for this reason. But because I gave too much money, she couldn’t refuse. Mrs. Zhang looked like an honest person on the surface. But only I knew how mentally perverted she was behind the scenes. If I showed the slightest dissatisfaction with her care, I would get a beating from her. I wanted to complain about her crimes to my mother, but every time I told her, she accused me of being difficult to serve and making trouble out of nothing. In that case, let her feel whether I was making trouble out of nothing. 4 At the same time, I began to lament in my dad’s ear all day long. “Other kids have mothers to accompany them, but my mother can only lie in bed, and her body smells bad. I feel so ashamed.” I told my dad what my mother said in my previous life, and specifically didn’t close the bedroom door, deliberately letting my mother hear it. Immediately, cursing came from the bedroom: “You two heartless dogs, I haven’t died yet, so you despise me so much, ah…” The sharp cry went straight to the eardrum. My dad and I tacitly ignored her, and then I shyly told my dad: “I like Auntie Lisa. If she were my mother, it would be great.” My dad’s eyes looking at me changed instantly. “Do you really think so?” I nodded shyly, and my dad got my answer, his eyes flickering. My heart instantly had a bottom. Lisa was my dad’s first love and the woman my mother hated most in her life. Since in my previous life my mother brought my most hated cousin Ashley home and treated her like her own daughter, then in this life, I will learn from her and bring her most hated rival home and treat her like my own mother.

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The night Ethan Carter accepted the Global Philanthropy Award, my doctor gave me an expiration date. My artificial heart was failing, and I was completely broke. On television, the dazzling host dared Ethan to call his biggest regret live on air. He dialed my number without hesitation. I answered, listening to Ethan’s voice, dropping an octave for the cameras: “Do you ever regret walking out on me for money, Chloe?” I glanced at the staggering medical bill on my lap and let out a weak laugh. “Ethan, you’re loaded. Loan me twenty grand, would you?” The line went dead. On the screen, Ethan looked into the camera, ice in his eyes. “No regrets left.” He didn’t know. Seven years ago, when his own heart was failing, I didn’t leave him. I gave him mine. As soon as the live stream ended, a notification pinged on my phone. Ethan had wired me twenty thousand dollars. I stared at the screen, a complicated knot tightening in my chest. I used the money to pay the immediate hospital fees. As I was leaving the billing department, I heard a familiar voice down the hall. Through the crack in a clinic door, I saw him. Seven years hadn’t left a mark on Ethan. He looked expensive, powerful. The only thing different was the person clinging to his arm. It wasn’t me anymore. He’d rushed straight from the black-tie gala without even changing, all because his new girlfriend had a minor stomach ache. I watched him solicitously wrap his arms around Serena Blake. I lowered my head, intending to slip away unseen, and quietly pulled the door shut. Ethan yanked the door open from the other side. I jumped, my eyes locking with his. His gaze swept over me, cold and biting as winter wind. “Long time no see. You weren’t going to say hello?” I looked at him. A thousand things rushed to my lips, but what came out was: “Ethan, loan me another thirty grand.” Ethan froze. The indifference in his eyes ignited into anger. He grabbed my wrist. “Seven years, Chloe, and that’s all you have to say to me?” His grip pressed against the dense cluster of needle marks on my arm, sending sharp currents of pain up my limb. I took a shallow breath. “Mr. Carter is so wealthy. If you don’t lend me the money, I’m worried Miss Blake might misunderstand the nature of our relationship.” Ethan looked genuinely taken aback, his eyes flashing with something complex. Before he could speak, Serena latched onto his arm, staking her claim. “Honey, is this your ex-wife?” Serena looked at me with practiced pity. “What can thirty thousand possibly do? Ethan spends fifty thousand just buying me a pair of shoes.” “It’s a pity you didn’t know what you had, Chloe. If you hadn’t heartlessly abandoned Ethan back then, I never would have met him.” I remained silent, my mind drifting back in time. Ethan and I met in college. We fell in love and spent five years building a life together. Back then, he wasn’t a billionaire entrepreneur. And my body wasn’t failing like it was now. We were two kids from the foster system who finally found family in each other. We worked ourselves to the bone trying to build a small future. Just as our careers were taking off, Ethan was diagnosed with severe heart failure. The treatments and the transplant list required a fortune. We drained every cent of our savings. To keep up with the medical bills, I worked multiple part-time jobs. I ate once a day, stretching every dollar until it snapped. I worked myself into the ground just to afford his meager medication. We even switched his meds to the cheapest generics available. But the call for a matching heart never came. I watched Ethan waste away, his vibrant energy turning into despair. Then, the doctor found me. He told me there was a match. The person whose heart matched Ethan’s perfectly… was me. My thoughts snapped back to the present. Ethan kissed Serena’s forehead, his eyes performing tenderness. “If she hadn’t been so cold-blooded, how would I have met my guardian angel?” he said, loud enough for me to hear. “That thirty-thousand-dollar bag you liked? I’ll buy it for you tonight. Pick something more expensive next time. Your husband can afford it.” Watching them, the phantom pain in my chest was sharper than the needles in my arm. I couldn’t breathe. I wrenched my hand free from Ethan’s grip. I didn’t want to be the prop they used to prove their love. As I turned to leave, Serena stuck out her foot. It was subtle, but intentional. “Oh no, Chloe, be careful!” I crashed to the floor. The medical papers I was holding scattered at Ethan’s feet. Ethan’s face tightened. He instinctively reached out a hand to help me. Serena grabbed his arm, gasping melodramatically. “What is this?” Ethan’s eyes were drawn to the papers on the linoleum. He picked one up, scanning it quickly. “Artificial Heart Replacement Protocol…” A flash of fury crossed his face. He threw the medical file into my face. “Chloe Vance. I didn’t think you’d stoop to using cheap props to scam me out of money.” “You really are exactly the same as seven years ago. Everything is about money. You only see dollar signs.” I pushed myself up, looking at his healthy, strong body. A faint smile touched my lips as I silently gathered the papers. “You know I love cash, Ethan. Why not lend me a little more?” Serena seemed moved to tears by her own performance, clinging to his solid arm. But when she looked at me, her eyes were full of mockery. “Honey, maybe it’s true?” she cooed. “Besides… if Chloe hadn’t left you, you wouldn’t have received that donor heart from that kind stranger! Shouldn’t we help her out?” Her words served their purpose: reminding Ethan that I had abandoned him for poverty. The hesitation in Ethan’s eyes froze over instantly. “The heart of a good person couldn’t save a heartless woman. She doesn’t deserve it.” Ethan pulled Serena away. She kept up the act of begging him, but as she glanced back over her shoulder, her smile was pure venom. I picked up the medical record, now covered in Serena’s dusty footprints. The mechanical pump in my chest gave a sudden, violent stutter that didn’t belong there. My vision blurred. Their retreating figures went out of focus. After a long moment, I wiped a trace of blood from the corner of my mouth and stared at the words “Artificial Heart Replacement.” My fingers traced the thick scar that had defined my chest for seven years. Ethan still didn’t know. The heart beating inside his chest was mine. Seven years ago, because a suitable donor couldn’t be found, Ethan was days away from death. Artificial heart technology wasn’t mature then. Theoretically, it could sustain life, but the risks were massive. When I found out I was a match, I signed the papers to give him my heart. I took the experimental artificial one. A seven-year lifespan, theoretically. To save money for his recovery, I chose the cheapest model. Since then, pain has been my constant companion. Coughing up blood and sudden, paralyzing weakness became my normal. Because I was perpetually broke, the surgery to upgrade the unit was postponed again and again. Now, the seven years were up. The machine in my chest delivered its seventh major jolt of pain today. I knew it was reaching its limit. I left the hospital and returned to my rented room. It was small, damp, and bitterly cold in the winter. In the summer, it was an oven. But it was cheap. Ethan and I used to live in a place just like this, dreaming up our future while sharing instant noodles. When I learned I was his match, I had to make him let me go. I pretended I was tired of being poor. I slapped divorce papers on the table. We had spent five years together. Through all the hardship, I had never complained once. He knew how much I loved him. He couldn’t believe I would leave when things got toughest. I knew he loved me to his core. If he knew the truth, he would never allow me to trade my life for his. To save him, I had to be cruel. I had to pretend I’d had enough. Enough of following him around, eating bitterness with no end in sight. Enough of cheap drugs, one meal a day, and drinking tap water to stave off hunger. I told him I was done with it all. I still remember that day. The boy who was so proud, who never feared hard work or pain, cried for the first time. He wept as he signed the divorce papers. And I signed the organ donation agreement. After the surgery, I took the blame and disappeared from his life, returning to the squalid rental life we used to share, waiting for the death I had chosen. I just never expected to see him again. Now, he was soaring high, living the life we had dreamed of. But I could never go back to him. Seeing him looking so vibrant on the news gave me a sour feeling in my gut, but also a strange sense of relief. My phone rang, snapping me out of the memory. It was the bank. They told me the previous transfer of $20,000 was a mistake by the sender. I had to return the funds immediately or face criminal charges for theft. I hung up, a bitter smile on my face. I didn’t even know what to say. I called my best friend, Harper, and begged her to find me a quick job so I could repay the debt. Ethan hated me so much. If he knew I needed to make installment payments on his mistake, he’d probably enjoy watching me work myself to death to pay him back. Because of the heart unit, I was constantly exhausted. Most jobs were physically impossible for me. I survived on sporadic freelance gigs. Harper knew my condition and pulled some strings to get me a job as a server at a high-end banquet. It paid five hundred dollars for the night. relatively easy work. When I put on the uniform and the required face mask to pass champagne trays, I realized too late whose event it was. Ethan was there. He wore a tailored suit that probably cost more than my life’s earnings. He radiated power. Serena looked stunning in a designer evening gown. They walked arm-in-arm, the golden couple, surrounded by sycophants. I took one look and immediately lowered my head. Ethan grabbed a glass from my tray without recognizing me. I was about to turn away when Serena’s voice cut through the air. “Watch what you’re doing, server! Are you blind? You spilled champagne on my gown!” I stopped. There was a tiny splash on the hem of her dress. I didn’t argue. I just kept my head down and reached for a napkin to dab at the spot. Ethan looked at me, his brow furrowing, his lips pressing into a thin line. Malice flared in Serena’s eyes. Without warning, she kicked me hard in the center of my chest. An explosion of agony ripped through me. The impact hit the artificial pump directly. I hit the floor, unable to stop a cry of pain escaping my lips. “Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! Security! Get her out of here!” Serena yelled, her face a mask of outrage, but she couldn’t hide the smirk. Although I was wearing a mask, the moment our eyes met during the fall, Ethan recognized me. His lips parted. A flicker of pain crossed his eyes, instantly replaced by scorching mockery. He raised a hand to stop security. He reached down and yanked the mask off my face. “Chloe Vance. You run into your ex-husband and don’t even say hello?” Serena pretended to just realize who I was, pulling me up with fake concern. “Chloe? Oh my god, it’s you! You’re Ethan’s ex-wife, how could you be working as a servant here?” The ballroom seemed to hit the mute button. Dead silence. Every eye was glued to me. Then, the whispers started. The ridicule. “Did you hear? That’s the ex-wife who dumped him for money when he was dying…” “Wow. Karma really is a bitch.” “Abandoning Mr. Carter to end up a waitress? She deserves it.” Someone threw a glass of red wine. It splashed across my face and chest. Then, it was open season. Wine splashed from all directions. Glasses shattered against the floor around me, shards bouncing off my legs. Dark red wine mixed with the bright blood from cuts on my shins, pooling on the marble floor. Obviously, these social climbers wanted to impress Ethan by punishing me. Blood trickled down my forehead. I couldn’t feel it. I just stood there, silent. Ethan watched me, his eyes completely cold. “Chloe. Why so quiet? Does speaking to me cost extra now?” He laughed darkly, and the surrounding crowd tittered along. “You came here as a server just to beg me for money, didn’t you? Fine. I’ll satisfy you.” He waved a hand, ordering staff to bring over a dozen bottles of incredibly expensive red wine. They were uncorked and lined up on a table. “I’ll give you thirty thousand dollars right now. But you have to drink every drop of these.” He threw a stack of cash onto the wine-soaked floor. It sat there, stark against the red puddle. Ethan’s face was a frozen mask. The entire ballroom watched with amusement, eager for the show. Since the artificial heart implant, my body had become unbelievably fragile. I couldn’t lift heavy objects. I couldn’t run. Even walking up stairs left me gasping. And alcohol… alcohol was poison. My doctor had warned me that even a small amount could cause the mechanical pump to seize. I looked up at the man I had saved. I forced the corners of my mouth up and finally spoke. “If I do this… I don’t have to pay back the twenty thousand either, right?” Ethan looked momentarily stunned. The ice in his eyes cracked, revealing blazing anger underneath. He ground his teeth. “Fine!” I smiled. I grabbed the first bottle and tilted it back, guzzling the wine. The rich liquid tasted like fire and acid. My body immediately tried to reject it. I gagged, barely keeping it down. I forced myself to swallow, then grabbed the second bottle. And the third. The crowd watched the freak show, jeering. Only Ethan’s face grew darker and darker. As I reached for another bottle, my hand shaking uncontrollably, Ethan couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed my wrist. “Chloe! Is money worth dying for?!” I looked into his bloodshot eyes. The world was swimming. I nodded. “You’re right. Without money… I will die.” He flung my hand away in disgust. “Fine! Then drink it! Drink until you drown in it!” My body felt like it was strapped to concrete blocks. The mechanical heart in my chest seemed to have stopped beating entirely. There was only a terrible, hollow silence inside my ribs. I smiled a weak, boozy smile, took a shallow breath, and lifted the bottle to my lips again. Ethan snapped. He slapped the bottle out of my hand, roaring like a wounded animal. “Enough!” My legs gave out. I collapsed into the puddle of wine and broken glass. Fine shards bit into my skin, dyeing the floor an even deeper red. Harper, having heard the commotion, burst through the crowd. She screamed in horror, sliding onto the floor to pull my bleeding body into her arms. She looked up at Ethan, tears streaming down her face, and yelled the truth he refused to hear. “She gave her heart to you, you idiot! She’s living on a cheap mechanical pump! She can’t drink alcohol—you’re killing her! Do you understand?! You are killing her!”

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My college campus was being used for state exams, so the dean announced an early spring break. My parents told me they had just bought my brother, Liam, a brand-new car, and that he would pick me up to bring me home. Excited, I hopped into Liam’s shiny new SUV. I paused for a second when I saw a custom sticker on the dashboard in front of the passenger seat: “Princess Tiffany’s Seat.” Liam gave an awkward laugh. “It’s fine, Maya. Just hop in.” I didn’t think much of it. I sat down, figuring we were family. Surely his girlfriend wouldn’t mind. Halfway home, Liam’s phone started blowing up with a FaceTime request. He pulled over to answer. Tiffany’s voice whined through the speakers. “I’m mad, Liam. Like, really mad. You took forever to pick up just because you’re getting your sister? Who’s your actual baby?” I felt second-hand embarrassment. I leaned over and waved. “Hi Tiffany! It’s Maya. Sorry to interrupt you guys.” Tiffany’s eyes went wide on the screen. There was a few seconds of silence before she shrieked. “Liam! What is wrong with your sister? Does she have no shame? Is she blind? Can she not read the sticker that says ‘Girlfriend’s Seat’?” My face flushed hot. Instinctively, I apologized. “I’m so sorry, Tiffany. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’ll be more careful next time.” I thought that would help. Instead, she exploded. “Shut up, you little pick-me girl. Don’t call me Tiffany. We aren’t friends. Liam, this car is tainted now. I don’t want it. Tell your parents to buy us a new one.” I went home and told my parents exactly what happened. After some deep consideration, my parents decided it was time for Liam to get a new girlfriend. Chapter 1 Liam tried to calm her down on the phone, but Tiffany was relentless, hurling insults at me that made my stomach turn. Finally, Liam snapped. “Tiffany, can you stop? That’s my sister. My blood.” Tiffany’s eyes instantly welled up with fake tears. “You’re yelling at me? Liam, you’re yelling at me for another woman? You are unbelievable! Sob.” Liam panicked immediately. “No, babe, wait. I didn’t mean it. Don’t cry.” She pouted, her voice trembling. “Then tell me right now. Who is more important? Me or your sister?” Liam turned to look at me, his face twisted in agony. I mouthed the words to him: Choose her. He gave me a look of pure gratitude and turned back to the phone. “You. You are the most important person in the world to me.” Tiffany wiped her dry eyes and smirked. “That’s better. Your sister really needs to learn some manners. If I were there, I would have slapped her.” I froze, then turned my head toward the window, forcing back the tears stinging my eyes. Liam spent another twenty minutes cooing at her before hanging up. He sighed, looking defeated. “Maya, I’m sorry. Tiffany just… she has trust issues. She gets insecure and overreacts. Don’t take it to heart.” I felt sick, but I didn’t want to make things harder for him. I just nodded. The car started up again, but the silence was deafening. Chapter 2 We got home thirty minutes later. Mom and Dad had prepared a feast of all my favorites: mac and cheese, brisket, the works. But because of the drive, I had zero appetite. I picked at my food and went to my room early. That night, Mom knocked on my door. “Maya, honey? Is something wrong? You’ve been quiet since you got back.” I shook my head, not wanting to worry her. Mom sat on the bed and took my hand. She tilted her head and smiled. “Did you forget? We promised to be best friends forever. What kind of best friend keeps secrets?” I looked up at her warm smile, and the dam broke. The grievance I’d been holding back poured out in tears. Mom wiped my face. “Don’t be scared. No matter what, Dad and I have your back. We’re basically superheroes. There’s nothing we can’t fix.” I managed a laugh through the tears. “Mom, I’m twenty, not two.” “So? Even at twenty, you’re still my baby.” With her support, I told her everything about the car ride. Mom went silent. She looked at me thoughtfully. “Are you willing to forgive her this one time?” I felt a pang of sadness, but I nodded. “For Liam.” Mom smiled, a glint in her eye. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow, I’m giving you a present.” The next morning at breakfast, Dad slammed his coffee mug down. “We’re going to the dealership. You’re getting a car.” My eyes widened. “What? Why?” Dad glared at Liam. “We were going to get you one eventually, but we’re doing it now. My daughter shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells just to sit in a passenger seat.” Liam turned bright red. “Dad, it was a misunderstanding. Tiffany knows she was wrong. It’s my fault for not handling it better.” Mom scoffed. ” glad you realize that. Your punishment is coming with us to help your sister pick out a ride.” Liam nodded vigorously. There’s an eight-year gap between Liam and me. I was the miracle baby my parents prayed for, so naturally, I was spoiled. Liam was raised with one rule: Protect your little sister. He felt guilty about yesterday. He was stuck between his girlfriend and his family, like the filling in a bitter Oreo. Plus, Tiffany really had crossed a line. He ruffled my hair. “Pick whatever you want, kiddo. I’ve saved up some cash. If Mom and Dad’s budget isn’t enough, I’ll cover the rest.” Mom laughed. “Keep your money, kid. We treat you both equally. Maya gets a $40,000 budget, just like you did.” Before we left, Liam’s phone rang. His face fell. He stammered, “Uh, Mom… Tiffany wants to come too.” Mom smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Great! Girls know what girls like. Maybe she can give Maya some advice.” Liam nodded, but he looked like a man walking to the gallows. Chapter 3 We hadn’t been at the dealership long when Tiffany showed up. She looked furious, whispering aggressively at Liam in the corner. Mom and Dad noticed immediately. Mom leaned over. “Liam, is everything okay?” Liam gave a pained smile and shook his head. Tiffany glared at him, clearly fed up. “Fine! If you won’t say it, I will.” She turned to my parents. “Cindy, Dave, listen. You guys have money to burn on a car for Maya? Why not upgrade Liam’s car instead?” “You know what your daughter did yesterday, right? She’s disrespectful. And you guys are enabling her. Someone has to pay for bad behavior.” Mom’s face darkened. Tiffany, oblivious to the changing atmosphere, kept going. “Besides, why buy a car for a girl? She’s just going to get married and leave the family eventually. It’s a bad investment.” “Maya is an adult. You should stop paying her tuition and giving her an allowance. She needs to get a job. Stop letting her leech off the family. It’s embarrassing.” Mom gritted her teeth and smiled an icy smile. “Miss Miller, I’m curious. In what capacity are you lecturing me? Our family finances are none of your business.” “I thought you were here to apologize to Maya. If this is your attitude, maybe you should leave.” “Apologize? Ha!” Tiffany laughed like Mom had told a joke. “Cindy, don’t you know who I am? I’m Liam’s girlfriend. Your future daughter-in-law.” “Let’s be real. Every dollar Maya spends now is a dollar taken away from Liam’s future inheritance. Which means it’s taken away from me. I have a right to protect my assets.” Mom frowned, genuinely baffled by this logic. “Excuse me? Since when is my money your money?” Tiffany tilted her chin up. “Isn’t it obvious? The assets go to the son. Liam is the son. Therefore, half of that belongs to me.” Mom let out a cold laugh and looked at Liam. “Liam, is this what you think too?” Liam looked horrified. He tried to pull Tiffany back. “Tiff, stop. Please. Mom and Dad can do whatever they want with their money.” Tiffany shoved him away, chest heaving. “Liam, are you stupid? I’m fighting for us! The more they waste on her, the less we get!” Liam tried to grab her hand again. “I have a job. I have hands. We can make our own money. We don’t need theirs.” Tiffany screamed and bit his arm. Hard. Liam flinched but took it. Mom watched, her expression shifting from anger to disgust. They whispered for another ten minutes. I don’t know what Liam promised her, but Tiffany finally stopped looking like she wanted to murder us and smiled. Chapter 4 I ended up picking a white SUV, right around the $40,000 mark. Tiffany rolled her eyes the whole time, but seeing my parents’ stone-cold faces, she kept her mouth shut. Afterward, my parents took us to a nice steakhouse for lunch. While we were eating, the topic of real estate came up. Mom swirled her wine and joked, “Liam can buy a house wherever he wants, but Maya has to buy a condo in our neighborhood. I don’t want some punk stealing my flower pot without me knowing.” I opened my mouth to tell Mom to stop treating me like a kid. Suddenly, Tiffany shrieked. “Liam! Is your mother insane? First the car, now a house? Homes in your neighborhood are like, two million dollars! Why does she get one?” People at nearby tables turned to stare. Mom’s face, which had just relaxed, turned to stone. Dad tried to save the mood. He cleared his throat and asked Liam, “So, son, when do you two plan on getting married?” Liam started to speak, but Tiffany slammed her fork onto her porcelain plate. Clang! “Marry? With what money? Your daughter is draining the family accounts dry!” Mom ignored her, cutting her steak with surgical precision. Dad paused, then said, “We aren’t billionaires, but we have enough set aside for Liam’s wedding.” Tiffany sneered. “Is that so? Well, here are my conditions. First, we need a five-bedroom house in the hills. Only my name on the deed. Second, a cash wedding gift of $100,000. Finally, my parents raised me well, so you need to buy them a condo too. Nothing fancy, maybe 2000 square feet.” Dad’s face went pale. Mom put down her knife and fork. Her voice was flat. “Okay.” Dad looked at Mom, shocked. Tiffany froze, then a greedy smile spread across her face. “However,” Mom continued, “Since we are providing all of that, what are you bringing to the marriage? What is your dowry?” Tiffany’s face twisted. She stammered, “My… my mother said she would give us ten handmade quilts. They are made from organic cotton grown on my grandfather’s farm. You can’t buy that kind of quality.” She looked proud, as if these blankets were rare artifacts. But I could see the hesitation in her eyes. Mom actually laughed. “Ten quilts? We are putting up millions of dollars, and you’re offering bedding? Is this a stand-up comedy routine?” Tiffany’s eyes turned red again. She looked at Liam, tears flowing. “Liam! Your mother is mocking my family! Is she saying we’re poor?” Liam had his head in his hands. “No, Tiff, she’s not… let’s just eat. We can talk about marriage later.” Tiffany opened her mouth to scream, but Mom cut in, her voice lethal. “There will be no ‘later.’ Liam, I am warning you. If you marry this woman, you will not see a single penny from us. Not for the wedding, not for a house, not for anything.” Mom stood up, grabbing her purse. “Let’s go, Maya, Dave. I’ve lost my appetite.” Tiffany sat there, mouth open, watching us walk away.

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Lying in a hospital bed, covered in blood after the car accident, I listened to my father grumble. “Useless… just a money pit… we don’t have the cash for this…” Then, his tone shifted instantly as he picked up his phone. “Attaboy, champ! Top of your class in that video game? Dad’s coming home right now to celebrate!” When he left me alone in the hospital, I wasn’t even surprised. I almost laughed at myself for the flicker of hope I’d felt when I first saw him, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was actually worried about me. The doctors and nurses looked at me with a mix of anger on my behalf and pity. But I didn’t feel helpless or sad. I was just trying to figure out how to convince them to give me more pain meds and start the surgery, because everything hurt. That’s when a couple who looked like they stepped out of a magazine walked in, led by the hospital director. They said I was their daughter, switched at birth. Compared to their emotional tears and excitement, I was calm. I only asked two questions. “Will you pay for my surgery?” “Will you pay for my college tuition?” When they said yes, I looked them in the eye and said, “Mom. Dad.” It didn’t matter if they truly loved me. I didn’t ask what would happen to the girl who took my place. My Grandpa Zhou, before he passed, told me that in this life, the only person you can rely on is yourself. That’s the only way to be unbeatable. So, my plan was simple: live well. And use them as a stepping stone to get where I needed to go. Chapter 1 The surgery went smoothly. I was transferred to a VIP suite for recovery. Those few days were the most comfortable and peaceful I could remember. It was in that luxury room that I learned my biological father was Elias Thorne, CEO of the multi-billion dollar Thorne Enterprises. My mother was Evelyn Reed, the heiress to the Reed Electronics empire. Turns out, two months ago, when I was working a temp job as a greeter at a Thorne Enterprises gala, I was actually working for my own family. What was the theme of that party again? Oh right. It was the extravagant 18th birthday celebration for Thorne Enterprises’ only daughter. It was so grand that every business and entertainment news outlet in the city was covering it. As an outdoor greeter, I wasn’t even allowed inside. I stood shivering in the early spring wind. Since Grandpa Zhou died, no one remembered my birthday, let alone celebrated it. Through a crack in the door, I caught glimpses of the ballroom—the expensive clothes, the champagne toasts, a room full of love and celebration. At the time, I remember thinking about the difference between her life and mine. She was a princess, bathed in love and attention. I was like a sewer rat, stealing glances at a happiness that wasn’t mine. It was worlds apart. That day was also my 18th birthday. No one noticed. When I got home that night, I was greeted with: “Where the hell have you been messing around? Don’t you know you need to come home and cook?” “Your brother has high school entrance exams coming up. What if he goes hungry?” “Useless thing. We should have given you away when you were born. Would have saved us money.” Listening to them, I sneered internally. They wouldn’t have given me away. When I was born, our old neighborhood was being redeveloped. They needed an extra headcount to get a bigger compensation apartment, so they registered my birth. If Grandpa hadn’t insisted, my name wouldn’t be Chloe Zhou. It would have been something like “Chasing-A-Son.” But I didn’t argue. If I did, they’d just get angrier, and my adoptive father would hit me. I learned long ago that silence was survival. Keep your head down, do the work, and it will pass. My only hope back then was college. To get as far away from them as possible. Knock, knock. A gentle tap on the door. My biological parents walked in, followed by a tall, handsome young man in a sharp suit. “Chloe, this is your brother. We all came to take you home.” Just as I guessed, this was the Thorne Enterprises’ crown prince, Liam Thorne. I’d heard rumors that he absolutely spoiled his only sister. If she wanted the moon, he’d try to lasso it for her. Of course, that sister wasn’t me. He walked over with large strides, looking a bit stiff and awkward. His voice was gentle but forced. “Chloe, I’m your brother.” I looked up, gave a small smile, and softly said, “Liam.” When I used to get bullied at school, I’d see other kids’ big brothers protecting them. I used to wish I had a brother like that. Liam seemed to relax a bit when I said his name. “Mom, Dad, and I talked about it. We think it’s best if we go visit your adoptive parents.” “We investigated what happened back then. It was an accident.” “They did raise you for eighteen years, after all. And about Sarah… she’s still abroad…” I watched them. Their faces were full of guilt, but their eyes dodged mine. There was love there, too. Testing the waters of that love, I tentatively said, “They didn’t treat me well…” “Chloe,” Liam interrupted before I could finish. “We checked. Your adoptive family isn’t exactly living in poverty. They raised you for eighteen years. You should be grateful.” I saw my new parents in the background, looking slightly uncomfortable with his words, but they didn’t stop him. I stayed silent. So, the love in their eyes wasn’t just for me. It was also for the daughter they had loved for eighteen years. He assumed I was being ungrateful and money-hungry based on half a sentence. Fine. “Okay. Let’s go then.” Chapter 2 To their surprise, I got out of bed, supporting my arm which was still in a sling. “I’m ready.” If their love wasn’t unconditional, then I would use their guilt to fill the gap. We arrived at the Zhou house around lunchtime. I used my key to open the door and went in first. The three of them were stuffing their faces with meat and fish. They froze when they saw me, then went right back to eating as if nothing happened. “Good, you’re back. Go wash the clothes in the bathroom.” “Mom, I told you she had a secret stash of money. Look, we didn’t give her a dime for the hospital, and she got out just fine.” “Damn girl, always out of the house. Who knows what dirty ways she earned that money.” I stood there, putting a look of pure terror on my face, shrinking back as if afraid. My adoptive father’s face darkened when he saw me not moving. “What are you standing there for? Didn’t you hear your mother tell you to wash clothes?” I whimpered, lifting my injured arm slightly. “I… I just got out of the hospital. My arm isn’t healed. I can’t hand-wash them. Can I use the machine?” My adoptive mother’s shrill voice cut in immediately. “Does the machine run for free? Don’t you have another hand?” “I…” Seeing me about to argue, my adoptive father’s temper flared. He slammed his empty bowl onto the table and walked toward me, while my adoptive mother and brother, Tyler Zhou, watched with glee. He raised his hand to strike. I immediately dropped to a crouch, covering my head with my good arm, babbling. “I was wrong, I was wrong, I shouldn’t have talked back.” “I won’t do it again, Dad, don’t hit me, please don’t hit me. I’ll go wash the clothes right now. By hand.” As expected, the slap never landed. My new brother, Liam, rushed in and grabbed my adoptive father’s arm, shoving him aside. My new parents carefully helped me up, their eyes full of pain and guilt. Seeing the intruders, my adoptive mother jumped up to support her husband. She screeched, “Who are you people?” Then she saw them comforting me and realized what was happening. She turned her venom on me. “You little bitch! Bringing outsiders home to bully your parents, huh?” “Raising you was useless. Should’ve drowned you in the river when you were born.” She continued with a stream of vile insults: money pit, slut, uneducated trash. I always wondered why they treated their son like a prince and their daughter like garbage, even before they knew I wasn’t theirs. Especially my mother. She was a woman, too. How could she become the executioner of a younger version of herself? I used to think she was just trapped by old-fashioned thinking. Later, I realized she was just mean-spirited and narrow-minded. She wanted her daughter to suffer the same hardships she had endured. In fact, she wanted me to suffer double. When I was little, I would bring home good grades and awards, craving her love and praise. All I got was being ignored or mocked. Growing up, the nastiest things I ever heard came from her mouth first. I was immune to it now. I could ignore the abuse and just do what I needed to do. But my biological parents looked horrified. Liam’s fists were clenched in rage. Perfect. The effect was even better than I anticipated. I didn’t need to do anything else. I just had to act scared. It felt nice to have family protecting me. I used to crave this feeling. Now? It was take it or leave it. It wasn’t a necessity for my survival anymore. Besides, this “love” was calculated. I knew it wouldn’t belong solely to me in the future. There was still a Sarah Thorne, the daughter they’d cherished for eighteen years. When they announced I wasn’t their biological daughter, my adoptive mother started making a scene. My adoptive father, however, sized up my new parents and immediately started negotiating a price. Liam rubbed my head gently. “Go with Mom and pack your things.” “Leave this to me and Dad.” I nodded timidly and went to my room, my new mother looking at me with pity. Chapter 3 My “room” was a converted utility closet. It held a pile of junk on one side, and my cot, an old wardrobe, and a small desk on the other. I saw my mother’s eyes turn red, but I pretended not to notice and started packing. When she saw me stuffing faded jeans and a worn-out jacket into a broken suitcase, she couldn’t take it anymore. She walked over and threw everything onto the tiny cot. Her voice was choked with emotion. “Chloe, no. Don’t take these. Mom will buy you new ones.” I looked up, confused. “But these aren’t torn yet. I can still wear them.” My mother’s lips trembled, and she couldn’t speak. She pulled me into a hug, her tears wetting my shoulder. My shirt was damp, so I changed into a sports bra. I heard another gasp from behind me. “Chloe… what are these?” My mother pointed to the burn scars on my back and arms. Before I could speak, the door opened. My father and Liam stood there, staring at the scars. The silence in the room was heavy. My adoptive father pushed his way in after them, impatient. “What’s taking so long? Hurry up and pack so we can get paid.” Then he saw my scars, paused for a second, and got angry. “You damn girl, what are you looking at? Didn’t you do that to yourself?” He reached out to grab me. I flinched slightly and stammered, “Y-yes. I… I was clumsy. I did it myself.” Liam shoved my adoptive father out of the room, furious. “You want money? Then behave yourself! Don’t you dare yell at my sister.” My father’s eyes were red too. “Chloe has suffered so much.” I shook my head and didn’t say anything. In the car on the way to their estate, I thought about how well things were going. With my biological parents’ help, I was finally free of that rotten family. They mistook my silent contemplation for shock or trauma. “Chloe, it’s our fault. We shouldn’t have taken you back there.” “It’s our fault. If we had found you sooner, you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” “Chloe, don’t worry. Your brother will make them pay.” “From now on, Mom and Dad are here. No one will dare bully you again.” Looking at the raw guilt and love in their red eyes, it was impossible not to feel something. But it was just a little bit. I could take my own revenge later. The suffering? It was in the past. The car stopped. We were at the Thorne Estate, a place I had only ever heard whispered about at parties. It was the first time I truly understood the extreme gap in wealth in this world. I lowered my eyes. I felt a flicker of desire. I was an heir to this immense wealth and power now, too. “Mr. and Mrs. Thorne, you’re back.” The butler led the staff out to greet us. He looked at me, standing in the center of the group, and hesitated. “This is the second daughter. Take good care of her from now on.” My father spoke as he led me inside. The staff all bowed and said yes. As soon as I entered the grand foyer, I looked up and saw the girl standing by the staircase. The girl who had lived my life for eighteen years. Chapter 4 She was beautiful. Exquisite and expensive-looking, nourished by money and power. Right now, she looked like a broken porcelain doll. Her eyes were red and swollen. The moment she saw us, tears started falling like large pearls. So pitiful. So endearing. Her voice trembled as she pointed at me. “Mom, Dad, Liam… are the rumors true? Are you replacing me with her?” My father frowned and scolded her. “Sarah, watch your manners. This is your sister’s home. Of course she’s coming back.” Sarah looked terrified. “Dad, you’re yelling at me?” She turned and ran up the stairs, crying out, “Fine! Since I’m not your real daughter, I’ll leave right now! I won’t be an eyesore to you!” My father opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. He sighed and went to his study. Liam looked at me apologetically. “Sarah’s been spoiled. Don’t mind her, Chloe. I’ll go check on her.” He hurried up the stairs to comfort Sarah. Looking at my mother, who kept anxiously glancing upstairs, I sensibly said, “Mom, you should go comfort my sister too.” My mother paused. “Chloe, you’re such a good girl. I’ll just go see her for a minute. I’ll be right back.” She gave me a quick hug and went upstairs to console Sarah. The family that had just been fussing over me was instantly revolving around the other girl. I was left standing alone in the grand hall. As expected of the princess they had cherished for eighteen years. Their bond was deep. They couldn’t just let her go. I understood. I lowered my head. Did I care? If I didn’t get my hopes up, I wouldn’t be disappointed, right? But it still stung. The butler stepped forward. “Second Miss, your room is this way. I’ll show you.” “Thank you.” My mother, who said she’d be “right back,” didn’t show up for the rest of the afternoon. I didn’t have time to dwell on family drama. I couldn’t pin my future on these people. So at dinner, when it was just me and my father at the table, I ate quietly and didn’t make a fuss. After dinner, I spoke up. “Dad, could I get a tutor? The college entrance exams are in a month.” “I’m afraid I won’t adjust well going back to a regular school right now. Can I study at home?” My father was momentarily stunned, then nodded. “Just tell Butler Lee. He’ll arrange it.” “If you need anything else, just ask. If I’m not here, tell Butler Lee.” I gave a shy smile. “Thank you, Dad.” My father let out a breath of relief at my obedience. He hesitantly patted my shoulder and went to his study. A maid helped me get ready for bed. Just as I was about to lie down, there was a knock on the door. It was my mother. “Chloe, Sarah has a bit of a temper. Please try to be understanding.” “You just got here. Do you want to take a walk outside with me? Get familiar with the place?” I nodded, still in my pajamas, and went out with her. Sarah was standing by the stairs again. Her eyes were still red, but I clearly saw the smugness and challenge in her gaze. I nodded and smiled at her. “Sister, you’re up too?” My mother turned. “What are you doing out of bed? Go back to sleep. Your eyes are swollen like walnuts.” Sarah quickly adjusted her expression, gave a sweet smile, and went back to her room. A gentle evening breeze blew, bringing a cool relief. The estate grounds were beautiful. “Chloe, Mom wants to discuss something with you.”

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The day Luke Sterling hooked up with his assistant, I went online and posted a tweet: “Urgently seeking a new husband. Must be handsome, charming, clean-living, and a paragon of virtue. $15,000 monthly allowance, full benefits included. First come, first served.” That night, it broke the internet. “A-list actor fights male models for health insurance!” “Famous screenwriter and top director brawl over pocket money!” … A week later, Luke returned from his business trip abroad. I was at home playing poker with a few A-listers, lipstick marks all over my face from losing bets. His eyes were red-rimmed. “Vivian, don’t you love me anymore?” I glanced at him and laughed recklessly. “Luke, it’s not that I don’t love you.” “It’s that the Vivian who loved you is dead.” “She died while you were kissing your little assistant in the lounge, ignoring her call for help.” Chapter 1 After getting sick, I retired from the entertainment industry. Aside from seeing my therapist, I rarely went out. Old friends gradually stopped contacting me, and I lost interest in everything. One day, I suddenly really wanted to see Luke. So, for the first time in ages, I went to his company. Standing at the door of Luke’s office, I saw a young girl lying on the sofa opposite his desk, looking pale. Luke handed her a cup of hot tea, then leaned over to cover her stomach with a blanket. “Since you feel so terrible, why don’t I give you the day off to rest at home?” She took the cup, speaking righteously, “An assistant who leaves her boss to work all alone isn’t a good assistant.” Luke lifted his chin, gesturing toward the inner room. “Then go lie down in my lounge for a bit.” The little assistant sipped the tea and joked, “No way, Senior. You’re a married man now; I have to avoid suspicion.” Luke chuckled, shaking his head helplessly. Then he looked up and saw me standing at the door. The smile at the corner of his mouth froze slightly. I was also a bit dazed. I was still thinking about the smile Luke just gave his assistant. I’ve been much slower since getting sick. Thinking back now, it seems like he hasn’t smiled that easily in front of me for a long time since my illness began. But in an instant, he put on his usual expression and walked toward me. “Vivian, what are you doing here?” He tried to take my hand, but I instinctively pulled back slightly. Luke’s hand froze in mid-air. “Senior, is this a surprise inspection?” The little assistant, holding the cup of tea Luke gave her, stood next to him. She reached out to me with a beaming smile. “I’m Joy, also a graduate of Stanford. I don’t know if you remember me, Senior?” Joy… Joy… I studied her face. A few seconds later, I remembered. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen her. She was Luke’s junior from the same major in college. Freshman year, she fell in love with Luke at first sight. She was enthusiastic and cheerful, like a little sun, doing things with vigor. She immediately launched a fierce pursuit. At that time, I had already entered the entertainment industry. Although Luke and I were passionately in love, I couldn’t always be by his side. But he consciously avoided any interactions with the opposite sex that might affect our relationship. So he bluntly said he had a girlfriend and remained unmoved by her advances. Naturally, she didn’t believe him. A girlfriend never seen is Schrödinger’s girlfriend. She thought it was just Luke’s excuse to reject her. It wasn’t until I finished filming and returned to school that she knew it was true. I remember she looked very lost back then, tears in her eyes. Looking at me pitifully, she asked, “Senior, can I still add his contact info? If love is gone, it’s gone, but academics must go on!” Without waiting for my response, she turned to Luke and pleaded, “Senior, if I can’t pursue you, give me a chance to be a normal classmate, okay? You’re the top student in our major. If I encounter problems in my studies later, I’ll need your helping hand!” She spoke as if she were very open and honest. But how did Luke answer back then? He said, “Sorry.” “There is no need.” “You can ask the professor directly about academic matters.” I have to say, I was very happy at the time. Standing by my side, he gave me enough security. Now, so many years have passed. Joy is still that same character, like the sun, shining warmth on everyone. And I seem to have lost all joy in life, like a black hole, swallowing all the light around me. Chapter 2 Luke still gave Joy half a day off and let her go home to rest. All afternoon, I sat in Luke’s office waiting for him to get off work. He was in meetings. I stared blankly at the half-finished cup of tea Joy left on the coffee table. After work, I sat in Luke’s passenger seat. When he leaned over to help me fasten my seatbelt, I saw a small ornament on the dashboard. It was a cute, soft white rabbit. Not something a person with a cold personality like Luke would actively put in front of him. The rabbit ornament smiled softly at me. A heavy haze covered my heart. Staring blankly for a while, I suddenly spoke, “So Joy graduated.” “Yeah.” Luke responded, then explained, “She graduated last year. As soon as she graduated, she sent a resume to our company. We were short on staff, and I saw her potential, so I hired her.” He seemed to be comforting me, but the more he said, the guiltier he sounded, so he shut up. And the sudden bit of spirit and interest I had today vanished completely. I didn’t have the energy to ask further. I just leaned my head against the car window, watching the scenery fly by. Maybe, for a sick person like me. Even if today he said “there is no need” just like many years ago, giving me enough security, I wouldn’t feel happy. Chapter 3 After seeing his smile in Luke’s office, I learned to pay more attention to him. He seemed to be constantly accommodating me. Maybe out of consideration for my illness. In the past, he would share funny stories from his startup days, finding joy in hardship; he would slack off to tell me he missed the coffee I made him and the chicken soup I stewed; he would patiently listen to me ramble about bizarre events in the entertainment industry. He would share his joys, sorrows, and longing with me. Now, he has almost no emotions toward me other than gentleness. It seems that unknowingly, I lost the desire to share, leaving only unhappiness. Then, I brought my black hole emotions to him. We still cuddle to sleep and eat breakfast face to face. Everything seems the same as before. But there is an indescribable barrier between us. Luke’s smile in front of Joy always flashes before my eyes. He hasn’t been that relaxed in front of me for a long time. I made him unhappy. I want to change. In a few days, it will be our wedding anniversary. Maybe I can use a bouquet of flowers, a cake, or the coffee and chicken soup he used to miss to help me get out of this state, to help us tear open this barrier. So on our anniversary, I called him and said, “Luke, today I bought a bouquet of roses, a cake, made chicken soup, and brewed coffee.” So, do you want to come back early for dinner? Luke probably didn’t expect me to be so spirited suddenly. He was silent for a moment before replying, “I have urgent work overtime tonight, but I’ll be home before midnight.” “I prepared a gift for you. Wait for me, Vivian.” “Okay, I’ll wait for you.” I hung up the phone and sat quietly alone in the dim candlelight. The bright roses, sweet cake, and rich chicken soup on the table couldn’t make me feel the slightest bit of joy. Only endless darkness, as if it would swallow me whole the next second. Finally, I picked up the chicken soup and cake, holding the roses, and went out. Go to him. Go to him, and maybe I can escape the darkness, escape the silence, escape the powerlessness and suffocation. When I drove through the night to the underground parking garage of Luke’s company, I saw him rushing out of the elevator. Before I could get out of the car, he stepped on the gas and sped away. He was in a hurry. He abandoned the urgent work that required overtime. There was something more important. Going home? Going home to drink my chicken soup, eat cake with me, and celebrate our anniversary? Or… I drove after him. I thought, if he goes home, I can’t let him wait too long. But within five minutes, I knew his direction wasn’t the way home. The night grew darker, and the haze in my heart deepened. Subconsciously, I guessed the truth. But my heart struggled unwillingly. Maybe… maybe it’s just because I think too much after getting sick. I stepped on the gas and followed behind him. Looking at the rear of Luke’s car, I had extreme impulses several times. Why not just crash into him directly and perish together? Then anything I fear happening won’t have to happen. Passing a crossroads, the yellow light flickered. I didn’t let up on the gas. A large truck was coming from the intersection on the right. If I ran the red light, maybe I could push Luke under the truck with me. Then die. Never having to face the possibly bloody reality again. Until a loud “HONK—” The ear-piercing long horn of the truck woke me up, and I slammed on the brakes. “Damn it! Do you have a death wish? Kill yourself if you want, don’t drag others down!” The cursing of other drivers came from outside the window. I woke up. My heart beat violently. Lying on the steering wheel in a cold sweat, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. I really am sick. Even seeking death, I involuntarily want to use such a vicious method. The green light turned on. Suppressing all terrifying thoughts, I caught up with Luke ahead. Arriving at an apartment complex, he got out of the car quickly. Running past my car, he didn’t notice me. He just rushed into a residential building while on the phone: “I’m almost there!” I sat in the car staring at that building for a while, then followed. The elevator in the building was broken. A yellow “Under Maintenance” warning sign surrounded the elevator entrance. But the voice-activated light at the stairwell entrance was on. Luke must have rushed into the emergency exit and climbed the stairs. I stood at the entrance, looking at the steps one by one under the dim light inside, looking like they could swallow me. But I still followed. One step, two steps… First floor, second floor… Listening to the sound of Luke running up the stairs, following the voice-activated lights he triggered, I climbed step by step, step by step to the thirteenth floor. The light on the fourteenth floor didn’t turn on. Luke’s destination was the thirteenth floor. I climbed a few more steps and sat down at the corner between the thirteenth and fourteenth floors. Then, I heard a rush of footsteps. Luke’s voice was a bit panicked: “Hold on a bit, I’ll take you to the hospital right away.” I slowly poked my head out and saw Luke rushing out of the corridor holding the little assistant who was groaning in pain in his arms, running down the stairs. I could see he was very worried, very anxious. He was entirely focused on the pale and fragile little assistant in his arms. So, he didn’t discover me. The voice-activated lights turned on one by one following Luke’s footsteps, then went out one by one. The surroundings fell into darkness, only the “EXIT” sign in the corner still emitting a faint green light. I sat there, letting myself be completely submerged by the darkness. It seems something changed long ago when I wasn’t aware. In Luke’s heart, there was something more important than his company, more important than me. The phone alarm rang. It was midnight. “Happy anniversary, Vivian.” I said to myself.

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The day I found out Lucas Sterling was hooking up with his assistant, I went straight to Instagram and posted a casting call: “Urgent: Seeking a new husband. Must be handsome, sweet-talking, chaste, and possess outstanding moral character. Monthly allowance of $15,000, full benefits, and 401k included. First come, first served.” That night, the internet broke. #A-ListActorFightsModelsForBenefits #TopDirectorAndScreenwriterBrawlForAllowance One week later, Lucas returned from his business trip abroad. I was at home playing poker with a few A-list celebrities, my face marked with lipstick from losing a bet. His eyes were red-rimmed. “Willow, don’t you love me anymore?” I glanced at him and laughed, free and wild. “Lucas, it’s not that I don’t love you.” “It’s just that the Willow who loved you is gone.” “She passed away the night you were in the VIP lounge, entangled with your little assistant, ignoring her call for help.” 1. After getting sick, I retired from Hollywood. Aside from seeing my therapist, I rarely went out. I lost touch with old friends and lost interest in everything. But that day, I suddenly wanted to see Lucas. So, I went to his corporate headquarters—something I hadn’t done in ages. Standing at the door of Lucas’s office, I saw a young girl lying on the sofa opposite his desk, her face pale. Lucas handed her a cup of hot chocolate and tucked a blanket over her stomach. “If you’re feeling this awful, take the day off and go home.” She took the cup, speaking righteously, “An assistant who leaves her boss to work all alone isn’t a good assistant.” Lucas jutted his chin toward the inner door. “Then go lie down in the lounge inside.” The little assistant took a sip of cocoa, joking half-heartedly, “No way, Senior. You’re a married man now. I have to avoid suspicion.” Lucas chuckled, shaking his head helplessly. Then he looked up and saw me standing in the doorway. The smile on his lips froze. I was dazed, too. I was still thinking about the smile Lucas had just given his assistant. Since I got sick, I’ve become slow. Looking back now, it seems like he hasn’t smiled that easily in front of me for a long time. But in a split second, he put on his usual expression and walked toward me. “Willow, what are you doing here?” He reached for my hand, but I instinctively flinched. Lucas’s hand froze in mid-air. “Senior, is this a surprise inspection?” The assistant, holding the cocoa Lucas gave her, stood by his side and extended a hand to me with a beaming smile. “I’m Chloe York, also a Yale grad. I wonder if you remember me?” Chloe… Chloe… I studied her face. A few seconds later, I remembered. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen her. She was a junior in Lucas’s program. Freshman year, she fell for Lucas at first sight. She was enthusiastic and bright, like a little sun, and immediately launched a fierce pursuit. I was already in the industry then. Although Lucas and I were madly in love, I couldn’t be by his side 24/7. But he consciously shut down any female interactions that might affect our relationship. So he told her straight out that he had a girlfriend. Naturally, she didn’t believe him. A girlfriend never seen is a Schrödinger’s Girlfriend. She thought it was just an excuse. It wasn’t until I came back to campus after wrapping a shoot that she realized it was true. I remember how disappointed she looked, tears welling in her eyes. Looking at me pitifully, she asked, “Senior, can I at least add him on socials? If love is gone, I still need to focus on my career!” Without waiting for my response, she turned to Lucas and begged, “Senior, if I can’t date you, give me a chance to be a normal classmate? You’re the top student; I’ll need your helping hand with my studies in the future!” She sounded so open and honest. But how did Lucas answer back then? He said, “Sorry.” “There is no need.” “For academic questions, you can ask the professor directly.” I have to say, I was very happy back then. He stood by my side and gave me enough security. Now, so many years have passed. Chloe is still that same personality, like the sun, shining warmth on everyone. And I seem to have lost all joy in life, like a black hole, swallowing all the light around me. 2. Lucas still gave Chloe the afternoon off to go home and rest. I sat in Lucas’s office all afternoon waiting for him to finish work. He was in meetings. I stared blankly at the half-drunk cup of cocoa Chloe left on the coffee table. After work, I sat in the passenger seat of Lucas’s car. When he leaned over to help me buckle my seatbelt, I saw a small ornament on the dashboard. It was a cute, soft white bunny. Not the kind of thing someone with Lucas’s cold personality would actively display. The bunny ornament smiled softly at me. But a heavy haze covered my heart. Staring at it for a while, I suddenly spoke, “So Chloe graduated.” “Yeah.” Lucas responded, then explained, “Graduated last year. She sent a resume to our company right after. We were short-handed, and I saw her potential, so I hired her.” He seemed to be comforting me, but the more he said, the more it felt like a cover-up, so he shut up. And the sudden bit of energy and interest I had today vanished completely. I had no strength to ask further. I just leaned my head against the window, watching the scenery fly by. Maybe, for a sick person like me… Even if he said “there is no need” today, just like years ago, giving me full security, I still wouldn’t feel happy. 3. After seeing his smile in the office, I learned to pay more attention to him. He seemed to be constantly tolerating me. Maybe out of consideration for my illness. Before, he would share funny stories from his startup days, finding joy in hardship. He would slack off to tell me he missed the coffee I brewed and the chicken soup I made. He would patiently listen to me ramble about weird industry gossip. He shared his joys, sorrows, and longing with me. Now, he showed almost no emotion toward me other than gentleness. It seems that unknowingly, I lost the desire to share, leaving only unhappiness. And then, I brought my black hole emotions to him. We still cuddled to sleep, still ate breakfast face-to-face. Everything seemed the same. Yet there was an unspoken barrier between us. The smile Lucas showed Chloe kept flashing before my eyes. He hadn’t been that relaxed in front of me for a long time. I made him unhappy. I wanted to change. In a few days, it would be our wedding anniversary. Maybe with a bouquet of flowers, a cake, or the coffee and stew he used to miss, I could break out of this state, tear open this barrier. So on our anniversary, I called him and said, “Honey, I bought roses and a cake today, made soup, and brewed coffee.” So, will you come back early for dinner? Lucas probably didn’t expect me to be in such high spirits. He was silent for a moment before replying, “I have urgent overtime tonight, but I’ll be home before twelve.” “I have a gift for you. Wait for me, Willow.” “Okay, I’ll wait.” I hung up and sat quietly alone in the dim candlelight. The bright roses, the sweet cake, the rich soup on the table—none of it brought me any pleasure. Only endless darkness, threatening to swallow me the next second. Finally, I packed the soup and cake, grabbed the roses, and went out. Go to him. Maybe by his side, I could escape the darkness, the silence, the powerlessness, and the suffocation. When I drove through the night to the underground parking garage of Lucas’s company, I saw him rushing out of the elevator. Before I could get out, he slammed on the gas and sped away. He was in a hurry. He abandoned the urgent overtime. Was there something more important? Going home? To drink my soup, eat cake, and spend our anniversary with me? Or… I drove and followed him. I thought, if he’s going home, I can’t let him wait too long. But within five minutes, I knew he wasn’t heading home. The night grew darker, and the haze in my heart deepened. Subconsciously, I guessed the truth. But inside, I struggled unwillingly. Maybe… maybe it’s just my illness making me overthink. I stepped on the gas, trailing behind him. Looking at the tail lights of Lucas’s car, I had several extreme impulses. Why not just ram into him? Let’s end it together. Then nothing I fear will ever happen. Crossing an intersection, the light turned yellow. I didn’t slow down. A large truck was coming from the right. If I ran the red light, maybe I could push Lucas under the wheels with me. And pass on. Never having to face the possibly bloody reality. Until a loud “HONK—” The truck’s piercing horn woke me up, and I slammed on the brakes. “Are you crazy? If you want to end yourself, don’t drag others down!” The driver shouted curses from the window. I woke up. My heart pounded violently. Lying on the steering wheel in a cold sweat, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. I really am sick. Even seeking the end, I involuntarily think of such vicious ways. The green light turned on. I suppressed all the terrifying thoughts and followed Lucas ahead. Arriving at an apartment complex, he got out quickly. Running past my car, he didn’t notice me. He just rushed into a residential building while on the phone: “I’ll be right there!” I sat in the car staring at the building for a while, then followed. The elevator was broken. There was a yellow “Under Maintenance” sign. But the sensor lights in the stairwell were on. Lucas must have run into the emergency exit and climbed the stairs. I stood at the entrance, looking at the steps under the dim light, like a monster’s throat waiting to swallow me. But I followed anyway. One flight, two flights… First floor, second floor… I listened to the sound of Lucas running up, following the lights he triggered, climbing step by step to the thirteenth floor. The light on the fourteenth floor didn’t turn on. Lucas’s destination was the thirteenth floor. I climbed a few more steps and sat in the corner between the thirteenth and fourteenth floors. Then, I heard hurried footsteps. Lucas’s voice was panicked: “Hold on, I’m taking you to the hospital right now.” I slowly peeked out and saw Lucas rushing out of the corridor holding the little assistant, who was groaning in pain in his arms, running down the stairs. I could see he was worried, desperate. All his attention was on the pale, fragile Chloe in his arms. So, he didn’t see me. The sensor lights lit up one by one with Lucas’s footsteps, then went out one by one. The surroundings fell into darkness; only the green “EXIT” sign in the corner emitted a weak glow. I sat there, letting the darkness completely submerge me. It seemed that something had changed long ago without me realizing it. In Lucas’s heart, there was something more important than his company, more important than me. My phone alarm rang. It was twelve o’clock. “Happy Anniversary, Willow.” I said to myself. 4. Going down thirteen flights of stairs was harder than climbing up. It was like walking step by step into hell, endless. Beneath my feet were dense steps. Ahead was a dark, terrifying stairwell. Malice toward myself rose from the bottom of my heart, like a demon whispering in my ear: “Why not just fall? Fall down.” That way, it would be over immediately, no need to walk alone anymore. When Lucas sends his assistant home, maybe he can pick up my body on the way. Just a pity about my cake, my roses, and my soup. I closed my eyes and lifted my foot. Just one step into empty air… Ding-dong! The phone notification sound was exceptionally loud in the empty stairwell. I froze. Standing silently in the dark for a long time, I opened my eyes and checked my phone. It was a message from Lucas. “Willow, something urgent came up, I can’t make it back. Sorry.” Looking at the name “Willow,” I finally walked down the stairs step by step. Then I gave the cake, flowers, and soup to a homeless man by the road and went home alone. Insomnia is my normal state since getting sick; I’m used to it. I waited with open eyes until 2:00 AM, when Lucas returned. He went to the bathroom first. When he hugged me from behind, I heard him whisper “Sorry” in my ear. Sorry for what? Sorry for not making it back before twelve? Or sorry for having someone more important, leaving me to climb thirteen flights of stairs alone? Until the morning light broke, I couldn’t figure it out. I just said to him as he got up, “Lucas, don’t let Chloe be your assistant anymore, okay? Let her leave the company.” Lucas’s hand tying his tie paused. After a long time, he replied, “Okay.” It was a tacit understanding. I didn’t even need to explain why.

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