We had been married for seven years. Yet, my wife’s childhood best friend, Julian, moved right into the new townhouse I had just bought for our daughter. He held up the deed in front of my face, wearing a smug grin. “What bond could possibly beat being childhood sweethearts, Ethan?” Before I could even demand an explanation, my wife, Chloe, rushed forward and shielded him behind her back. “He just got divorced and has nowhere else to go. It’s hard for a single dad to manage on his own. I’m just trying to help him out.” “It’s just a house deed. Why do you have to be so petty and dramatic about it?” And just like that, they kicked me out of my own property. Half an hour later, Julian sent me a private Snapchat message. It was a picture of a luxury watch. In the background, Chloe was handing her credit card to the cashier. “I bet Chloe has never bought you anything this expensive, has she?” the caption read. I knew Chloe bought it to comfort him. This time, I didn’t throw a fit. I didn’t argue. I simply decided to get a divorce.

I was at the hospital getting checked for appendicitis when Chloe sent me a voice note on Snapchat: “Bring some mangoes and cherries on your way back.” She sounded completely unfazed, as if she hadn’t kicked me out of the house just two hours ago. Today was our daughter Lily’s birthday. I had gone to the new townhouse early, excited to decorate the place and give her a surprise party tonight. Instead, when I opened the door, I found Julian and his son, Leo, walking around the living room, pointing and deciding where to put their furniture. I only asked him what the hell he was doing there. Chloe immediately lost her temper and screamed at me. Before I could even explain, she gave me that look of utter disgust and pushed me out the door. “Are you listening to me?” Chloe’s voice came through a second voice note, slightly softer this time. She was clearly testing the waters. “Yeah,” I replied hoarsely. Hearing my confirmation, Chloe let out a sigh of relief. She called me on FaceTime immediately and started nagging. “Make sure you get the mangoes from the organic market downtown. They have to be fresh. Choose the imported ones, the big ones…” Meanwhile, my Snapchat kept buzzing. She sent me a dozen links and screenshots. Most of them were articles on how to pick the perfect mango and things to watch out for. Chloe’s favorite fruit was cherries. I was severely allergic to mangoes. So she definitely wasn’t buying them for me. The answer was obvious. They were for her newly divorced childhood best friend, Julian. A sharp, stabbing pain flared up in my abdomen. My vision went blurry for a second. Gritting my teeth, I leaned against the hospital corridor wall to keep myself upright. I forced my voice to sound normal so she wouldn’t notice. “If you see any fruit you like, grab some for yourself too,” Chloe suddenly added. A faint warmth bloomed in my chest. I actually smiled. Maybe Chloe did care about me, at least a little. “Okay,” I murmured. I started wondering if I had been too harsh earlier. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. Chloe was just trying to help a friend in need. Maybe I should apologize to Julian. But before my thoughts could drift any further, Chloe continued: “But don’t buy any papayas. Julian can’t stand the smell.” “And no blueberries either. Honestly, just look around. Don’t buy anything too expensive for yourself.” Those few words instantly turned my warmth into ice. Papayas and blueberries were my absolute favorites. “Chloe, do you even know…” The words choked in my throat, desperate to pour out. But Chloe cut me off. “Anyway, it’s not like you have anything important to do. Just hurry up. Julian and Leo are waiting.” With that, she hung up. We had been married for seven years, and Chloe had no clue what fruits I liked. Yet, she knew every single detail of another man’s preferences. It was hilarious, really. I bought the fruits and drove back to the townhouse. When I walked in, Chloe handed me a cheap keychain with a little stuffed bear hanging from it. “Julian asked me to give this to you. He wanted to apologize,” she said. “You scared him and his kid when you burst in earlier. Go on, go apologize to him.” There was a tiny logo on the back of the keychain. It was from the same luxury brand as the watch Julian had flaunted on Snapchat. This was obviously a free promotional item. The stuffed bear was dirty, and one of its arms was torn, with white cotton spilling out. It looked exactly like our broken, pathetic marriage. I noticed Chloe’s eyes darting toward the stairs upstairs. I didn’t take the keychain. My voice was dead cold. “I don’t want it.” Chloe’s face darkened instantly. “Ethan, can you grow up for once? Julian didn’t do anything wrong, yet you terrified him. He’s trying to be nice and make peace, and you’re here acting like a dramatic diva.” “The poor guy just got divorced and is raising his kid alone. Do you have any heart?” Seeing that I still refused to back down or apologize, Chloe lost her temper and shoved me hard. She didn’t use all her strength, but the sudden impact triggered my acute appendicitis. I collapsed onto the hardwood floor, cold sweat instantly breaking out across my forehead. “Oh my god, are you okay?” Chloe panicked. She quickly knelt down to pull me up, her face filled with what looked like guilt. “I’ll take you to the ER.” I didn’t refuse. I needed to get back to the hospital for my surgery anyway. “Fine,” I wheezed. But the moment I climbed into the passenger seat of our car, a suffocating wave of strangeness hit me. A random men’s jacket was tossed carelessly in the back seat. The spot where I usually kept my mints was now occupied by a sleek, masculine water bottle. I even opened the glove compartment to look for some painkillers and pulled out a freshly opened package of men’s underwear. Seeing this, Chloe stammered, trying to explain. “Julian needed to borrow the car last week. He probably just left some of his things behind.” “Here, let me throw it away.” She reached out to grab the underwear from my hand. I pulled back slightly, my expression empty. “Don’t bother.” Chloe looked surprised. “You’re… not mad?” I turned my head to look out the window, remaining silent. After everything she had done, nothing could shock me anymore. I wasn’t mad. I was just… done. “Listen, when we get to the hospital—” Before we could reach the hospital entrance, Chloe’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen, and a bright smile instantly lit up her face. While we were waiting at a red light, she picked up the call. I heard Julian’s voice over the speaker. He merely complained about having a mild headache, and Chloe immediately went into a frenzy of worry, asking him a million questions. “Ethan, you can walk the rest of the way, right? It’s just a block,” Chloe said, not even trying to hide her impatience. She pulled over by the curb and stared at me, practically begging me to get out. “Julian is feeling really sick. I need to take him to the clinic for a full checkup.” I shook my head, clutching my throbbing abdomen. “No.” “I can’t. I don’t have the strength to walk.” Chloe’s face twisted into disgust. “Are you seriously playing the victim over a five-minute walk?” She reached over, pushed my door open, and literally shoved me out of the car. “You’re a grown man, Ethan. Can you not even navigate a hospital by yourself?” I stumbled onto the pavement, barely holding myself upright. I watched as Chloe stepped on the gas and drove away without looking back. The traffic was heavy, and cars sped past, almost brushing against me. Thankfully, a kind stranger saw me struggling and helped me walk into the ER.

The diagnosis was clear. It was a severe case of appendicitis, and the doctor insisted on immediate surgery. If I delayed it any longer, it would rupture. I signed the paperwork and was admitted that night. The surgery was scheduled for the following afternoon—right around the time I was supposed to pick up Lily from school. I sent Chloe a Snapchat message, asking her to pick up our daughter tomorrow. But I didn’t get a single reply all night. We used to be so different. When did she change into this monster? I couldn’t sleep, my mind racing. But surely, Lily was her own daughter. Chloe wouldn’t be heartless enough to neglect her. The next day, right after I woke up from the anesthesia, my phone rang. It was Lily’s elementary school teacher. “…Mr. Miller? Are you caught up with something today? Lily is still at school, and no one has come to pick her up…” Then I heard Lily’s small, trembling voice over the phone. “Daddy? Are you working late today? I’ve been waiting for so long.” My heart stopped. “Didn’t Mommy pick you up?” The teacher replied that they had been waiting for over an hour, and neither of us had notified the school. Lily had finished all her homework in the office, and the teacher only called because she was worried we had forgotten. She tried calling Chloe, but the line went straight to voicemail. I comforted my daughter, ignoring the doctor’s orders to rest after surgery. I pulled out my IV, got dressed, and took an Uber straight to the school. When I finally got back home with Lily, I saw Chloe lying comfortably on the sofa, a facial mask on her face, scrolling through her phone. She barely looked up, completely indifferent. “Where have you been? Why are you guys so late?” Suppressing the burning anger in my chest, I asked her if she had seen my messages. She gave a careless shrug. “Oh.” “I was too busy. Slipped my mind.” She quickly changed the subject, pointing to some dishes on the dining table. “I knew you guys would be hungry, so I brought some takeout back.” I walked over and looked at the plates. It was a plastic container filled with a few wilted lettuce leaves, some tiny scraps of beef, and a couple of soggy eggplant slices. It looked exactly like leftovers someone had scraped off their plate. An hour ago, I had seen Julian’s Instagram story. He had posted a picture of someone cooking in his kitchen. The face was cropped out, but I would recognize those hands and that silhouette anywhere. It was my wife, Chloe. Julian’s caption read: *“Some things never change. Cooking my favorite meals and laughing like the old days.”* He even tagged a few mutual friends. I poked at the cold, greasy food with a fork, feeling incredibly nauseous. The surgical stitches in my abdomen started to throb with pain. “I’m not hungry. I don’t want to eat this.” Chloe tossed her phone onto the coffee table, her face tightening. She raised her voice. “What is your problem now? I went out of my way to bring you food, and you’re throwing a tantrum?” “Is this still about the townhouse deed? Why are you being so dramatic?” “Julian was devastated after his divorce. He has a kid and nowhere to go. I’m just trying to support him. I didn’t know you were this petty, Ethan.” “We grew up together. There is nothing going on between us. Stop overthinking.” I was physically and emotionally exhausted. With the last bit of my energy, I whispered, “I’m not overthinking. I just didn’t expect to find another man living in the house I bought for our daughter. I only asked him a question…” Chloe waved her hand impatiently, cutting me off. She sneered. “He is not ‘another man.’” “Just a question? Who knows how rudely you asked him! You basically chased him out!” *Is that really who I am in your eyes?* I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Lily was standing right beside me, and I didn’t want her to see her parents screaming at each other. “I didn’t chase him out. But you didn’t even have the decency to tell me—” “Enough!” Chloe screamed, slamming her mug onto the glass table. She glared at me with cold, venomous eyes. She laughed mockingly. “Julian was right about you.” “You are just a petty, insecure, jealous control freak! You make a huge scene over every little thing. I must have been blind to ever marry a guy like you!”

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My grandma is famous for “getting confused.” I told her not to touch my work laptop. She immediately took it to a pawn shop, sold it for pocket change, and got me fired and blacklisted from my industry. When I confronted her in tears, she just scoffed. “I’m just an old lady who made a mistake! Is it really that big of a deal?” Later, she found the expensive gold bracelet I bought for my boyfriend, pawned it, and stuffed my secret infertility test report into the empty gift box instead. It broke my boyfriend’s heart, and he broke up with me. When I screamed at her, she actually smiled. “I did you a favor, sweetie! Now you can go find a richer man who actually lives long!” I accused her of ruining my life. But my toxic family forced me to my knees, demanding I apologize to her. Heartbroken and completely broken, I ended my life by jumping off the city bridge. But now, I’ve opened my eyes again. I’m back. And this time, I will destroy every single one of them. 1 The sharp, suffocating smell of smoke filled the air. My grandma was in the living room, screaming at the top of her lungs. I glanced at my work laptop, sitting perfectly untouched on my desk. My mind snapped into focus. I had traveled back in time. I was reborn. In my past life, this was the exact moment Grandma Beatrice threw highly flammable firestarter blocks into the wood fireplace, nearly setting the entire house on fire. She cried afterwards, claiming she was just “getting old and confused.” Back then, I had rushed to help her. I left my laptop on the desk, told her not to touch it, and ran to clean up her mess. But while I was busy dealing with the smoke, she took my expensive work laptop and pawned it for a measly hundred dollars. I had begged her to tell me which pawn shop she went to so I could buy it back and save my job. But she clutched the hundred dollars in her pocket, her face twisted in anger. “No way! What I find is mine to sell! This money is for my precious grandson, Austin!” My boss didn’t care about my excuses. He fired me on the spot and blacklisted me from the entire industry. I was one step away from a major promotion. Because of her, my career was dead. I had asked her in despair, “Why? Why did you ruin my life?!” But she just sat there, casually eating chips. “Oh, come on! One door closes, another opens. I made a tiny mistake. Is it really that big of a deal?” My dad, Arthur, had glared at me. “Elena, watch your mouth! That’s your grandmother! You’re just useless, don’t blame her. If you don’t like this house, get married and get the hell out!” My mom, Martha, and my brother, Austin, just watched like they were enjoying a reality TV show. I swallowed my tears back then. To protect the birthday gift I bought for my boyfriend, Ethan—a beautiful gold bracelet—I hid it deep in my closet. But a few days later, Grandma Beatrice suddenly had enough cash to hand Austin three hundred dollars. A terrible feeling had crept into my chest. And then, I got the breakup call from Ethan. That was when I realized what she had done. She had pawned the gold bracelet. In its place, she put my confidential medical report—the one showing I was infertile—inside the gift box. Ethan thought I had lied to him. He thought I didn’t trust him. He told me, crying, that he had planned to propose to me that very day. But his voice was suddenly cut short by a horrific crash over the phone. A semi-truck had plowed into Ethan’s car. He died instantly. I screamed at my grandma, “You’re a thief! You stole everything from me! You killed my happiness!” But my dad grabbed me by the hair, forcing me to beg for her forgiveness. Austin kicked the back of my knees, forcing me to drop to the floor. My mom sighed. “Elena, your dad is the head of this house. You have to listen to him. Your grandma didn’t mean to do it. Old people make mistakes. Besides, if it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t have known Ethan was destined to die young anyway.” Grandma Beatrice smirked. “Exactly! What’s the big deal? If I hadn’t intervened, you’d be a young widow right now. Now you can find a rich, healthy man. I did you a favor!” Looking at their cold, mocking faces, something inside me died. I ran out of the house and jumped off the bridge, ending my miserable, unloved life. 2 Back in the present, Grandma Beatrice’s shrieks from the living room grew louder. I stayed in my room, completely ignoring her. First, I quickly backed up all my work data to the cloud. Then, I packed all my expensive jewelry, documents, and valuables into a bag. I was going to drop them off at Ethan’s apartment. In this life, I would protect my career and the man I loved. And I would make sure my toxic family drowned in Grandma’s “confused mistakes.” After securing my things, I walked out of my room. The living room wall was completely blackened by smoke. It looked terrible. My mom crossed her arms, glaring at me. “Why didn’t you help your grandmother?” Grandma Beatrice immediately pointed a shaking finger at me. “She did it on purpose! You know I’m old and get confused! I was screaming for help, and you just sat in your room. Are you trying to kill me, you ungrateful brat?!” A cold smile touched my lips. *Oh, I want you dead, Grandma. But death is too easy for you.* Instead, I poured her a warm glass of water and handed it to her gently. “Grandma, look at you, getting confused again. When you were screaming, I literally yelled at you to stop throwing those firestarter blocks. When the flames shot up, I immediately ran outside to look for help.” “I was so worried about you that I forgot to call 911. My bad.” Grandma Beatrice’s face turned red. “You little liar! You think you’re smart? God will punish you for disrespecting your elders!” She glanced greedily toward my bedroom door, then turned to Austin with a sweet smile. “Austin, don’t be like your sister. Come to Grandma’s room later. I have a little surprise for you.” My eyes narrowed. My laptop was already gone. What was she planning to steal this time? I walked back into my room and waited. A moment later, Grandma Beatrice dragged my mom into my room. “Look at this mess! Elena does nothing but stare at her computer. Her room looks like a pigsty! I almost choked on smoke, and yet I still came in here to clean up for her. She has no heart!” She pretended to wipe away a tear. My mom nudged me. “Apologize to your grandma right now! Who else would care enough to clean your room?” I screamed laughing inside. A grandmother this toxic? No one else would want her. I stepped up to her and smiled warmly. “Thank you so much, Grandma. You’re so sweet. It’s a good thing you ‘cleaned’ my room. I thought a thief broke in and stole my laptop, my books, and the boxes under my bed. I was literally about to call the cops!” Grandma Beatrice stiffened, her voice turning sharp. “What are you talking about?! I didn’t see any laptop!” Aha. She wasn’t confused at all. She knew exactly what she was doing. In my past life, she had targeted my laptop on purpose. Thank God I acted fast, or history would have repeated itself. I turned to my mom, my voice cold. “Hear that, Mom? She claims she was ‘cleaning,’ but she’s actually looking for things to steal and pawn.” Grandma’s face flushed with guilt. My mom snapped, “Elena! Stop it! She’s your grandmother!” Suddenly, Austin stormed into the room. He threw a crumpled hundred-dollar bill right at Grandma’s face. “Did you pawn my limited-edition anime figures?! Is this your ‘surprise’?! I don’t want your stupid cash! Get my figures back!” I shook my head, pretending to comfort him. “Austin, how can you talk to Grandma like that? She didn’t mean to do it! She’s just an old lady who got a little confused!” 3 Grandma Beatrice stared at me, realization hitting her like a truck. She ran back to her room in a panic. “Oh no! They’re gone!” Austin fell to the floor, clutching his head. “My figures… my limited-edition figures…” My mom panicked, not knowing what to do. I immediately pulled out my phone and dialed 91

Grandma Beatrice rushed back and lunged at me like a feral animal. “Did you touch my heirloom diamond necklace?!” I grabbed her by her collar and dragged her straight into her bedroom. “Aren’t you the one who loves ‘making mistakes’? Don’t you love pawning my stuff? Today, I’m going to learn from the best!” I grabbed her favorite vintage radio from under her pillow and smashed it onto the floor. “This looks like junk! Time to throw it out!” Grandma picked up the broken pieces, her body trembling with rage. “You monster! You absolute monster!” I smirked, then picked up a large glass jar filled with her expensive, five-year-old aged herbal tonic. “No, no! Don’t! That’s expensive!” she shrieked. *Crash.* I smiled innocently. “Oops. My hand slipped.” Looking at the shattered glass and the dark liquid ruining her carpet, she lost her mind. “My five-year-old tonic! Elena, you did this on purpose! Just wait until your father gets home! He’s going to beat you to death!” I walked over to her altar and picked up her highly prized, creepy vintage porcelain angel statue. My eyes went dead cold. “Let him try. Let’s see who dies first!” *Smash.* The porcelain shattered into a million pieces. Grandma Beatrice fell to the floor, wailing and slapping the ground. “This is a sin! You smashed the holy angel! You’ve cursed this entire family!” I shrugged. “You’re my grandma. If I’m cursed, it’s because I learned it from you. I’m just ‘confused’ today.” I walked over to her closet, pulled out a valuable landscape painting my dad had gifted her, and ripped it in half. “Nice paper. Makes great scrap!” Grandma Beatrice was so angry she couldn’t breathe. She stumbled, fell over the broken glass, and scraped her arms and legs, bleeding onto the floor. In the hallway, my mom was holding a hyperventilating Austin. She screamed at me, “Elena! Are you trying to destroy this family?! You hurt your grandma and your brother! Are you going to kill your father and me next?!” Suddenly, a heavy leather briefcase slammed into the back of my head. My dad, Arthur, had just walked in. His face was distorted with fury. “Elena! I will end you today!” He grabbed a wooden golf club from the umbrella stand and chased me through the house. As I ran outside, I tripped over a stone in the yard and fell hard, unable to get up. Just as the golf club was about to crash down on my back… The ambulance sirens wailed, and the paramedics pulled into the driveway. I burst into tears, crawling toward the medics. “Please, save me! He’s going to kill me! My grandma stole my brother’s things, which made him faint. When I argued with her, she fell over her own mess, and now my parents are trying to kill me!” “Is it because I’m a girl? Is that my crime? Why does Grandma get a pass for stealing, and my brother gets pampered, but I get beaten?! My life matters too!” The paramedics looked at my dad with absolute disgust. One of them stepped between us, blocking my dad. “Sir, put the club down. I don’t care if she’s your daughter, this is domestic abuse. We will report this to the police!” The other paramedic added, “Favoring your son is one thing, but this is sick. You can’t blame this girl for your family’s mess.” My dad’s face burned with shame. He slowly lowered the club. Grandma Beatrice, covered in scratches and tonic, hobbled out, screaming at the medics. “Don’t listen to that little witch! She’s lying! She attacked us! You should call the cops on her! She’s a useless girl, she deserves to be flayed alive!” To prove her point, she reached out and violently pinched my arm. The ambulance driver had enough. “Are we going to the hospital or not?!” Austin suddenly started throwing up in my mom’s arms. My dad and grandma panicked. “Yes! Yes, let’s go!” I helped the medics lift the stretcher to load Austin into the back. Grandma Beatrice pushed me away forcefully. “Get away from my grandson, you curse! Austin is the only boy in this family! If anything happens to him, I’ll kill you!” In her haste, she pulled the stretcher too hard, causing Austin’s shirt to slide up, exposing his torso. The female paramedic gasped. “Oh…” My dad, embarrassed and angry, yelled at me, “Can’t you do anything right?! You almost dropped him!” The medic quickly pushed them inside. “That’s enough. We need to go.” The ambulance sped away. The neighbors who had gathered to watch slowly dispersed. I wiped my tears and let out a cold, satisfied smile. I wondered if the paramedic was shocked by the cute pink lace bra Austin was wearing under his shirt. The show was just getting started.

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It had been five years since my fiancé and my billionaire brother dumped me in the slums. Now, they had finally found me. And the first thing they asked was if I knew what I did wrong. I nodded numbly. “I know. I was wrong.” Five years ago, they were convinced I had framed Melanie, their precious darling. Together, they ruined me and sent me away. They forgot that I was Ethan’s fiancée, and Julian’s biological sister. But now, I was terrified. I had surrendered. I chose to obey. Yet, Julian suddenly slammed his glass onto the floor. “You were never like this before!” Even Ethan, the fiancé who used to look at me with nothing but disgust, had red eyes. “Please, Sera. Go back to being the girl who cried and screamed. I beg you.” *** **1** It had been five years since they dumped me in the slums. Today, they finally found me. I was crouching by a rusty public faucet in a filthy alley, scrubbing dirt out of an old, faded bedsheet. A few pairs of polished leather shoes stepped right into the muddy puddle in front of me, stopping right at my feet. I looked up and recognized the face immediately. It was Julian Vance. My brother. Five years hadn’t left many marks on his face. He only looked more powerful, his sharp brows carrying an even heavier air of authority. “Do you admit you were wrong now?” I lowered my head, staring at my red, swollen fingers. “Yes,” I whispered. “I was wrong.” Hearing my answer, his tense brow relaxed. The corner of his mouth even twitched upward into a tiny, self-satisfied smirk. “Come home with me,” he said. I nodded and stood up to pack my few belongings. But as I turned around, another figure stepped out from the shadows of the alley. It was Ethan Caldwell. He had come too. I hadn’t seen him in five years. He seemed taller now, his jawline harder and colder. His eyes locked onto my face, his expression a complicated mess of emotions. “Sera, since you admit your mistake, you’re still my fiancée. Our engagement is still on.” I watched his lips move, the words floating into my ears. *Fiancée.* *Engagement.* They felt like words from a past life. I nodded. “Okay.” Aside from that one word, I had nothing else to say. During my five years in the slums, I had lost track of day and night. By day, I wandered through noisy, filthy streets, taking any under-the-table job that would buy me a single meal. At night, I curled up in a drafty shack, listening to rats scratching in the corners and drunkards screaming in the distance, staring at the ceiling until dawn. All the life had been sucked out of me. Every sharp edge had been ground down to dust. Julian’s Rolls-Royce was parked at the entrance of the alley. It was pitch black, polished so bright it hurt my eyes. The car started. Soon, the low, crumbling shacks and the eternal stench of rotting garbage were left far behind. The view outside the window became cleaner, greener, and grander. Finally, the car pulled up in front of the luxury estate I had left five years ago. The iron gates opened automatically. The lawn was manicured so perfectly it looked like a green carpet. Everything looked exactly the same as in my memory, yet everything felt completely different. Walking into the living room, the massive crystal chandelier cast a blinding light. The air smelled faintly of fresh lilies. Just as we stepped inside, a maid rushed over to greet us. “Mr. Vance, dinner is ready. Should I serve it now?” Julian gave a low grunt of approval. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he turned his head to look at my way. “Sera, I had them make all your favorite dishes tonight.” He spoke so naturally, as if his five-year absence was just him stepping out for a short walk. One by one, the dishes were brought out. They were plated so beautifully they looked like works of art. Lobster, wagyu steak, truffles, caviar… These were things I had only seen on crumpled flyers near trash cans over the last five years, things that belonged to a completely different world. I sat down in silence. Ethan sat next to me. He picked up a silk napkin and naturally draped it over my lap. I was instantly terrified. “Thank you,” I gasped, my voice trembling. “Thank you so much.” I frantically reached out to take the fork he was handing me. The moment our fingers brushed, my memory short-circuited. When was the last time someone draped a napkin for me or handed me a fork? Was it five years ago? Or even longer? My mind went completely blank. *Clatter.* The fork slipped from my fingers, rolled across the table, and fell to the floor, stopping right by Julian’s leather shoe. The air in the room froze. I went stiff. Then, purely out of survival instinct, I threw myself to the floor to grab it. My movement was so sudden and frantic that my knee slammed hard against the heavy mahogany table leg. It made a dull, painful thud. But I didn’t feel the pain. I only felt pure, suffocating panic. I was terrified they would throw me back into the slums for being clumsy. I grabbed the fork, clutching it tightly in my fist. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, scrambling back to my feet. My voice was so low it was barely audible. “I didn’t mean to.” Julian and Ethan were both staring at me. Their eyes fell on my white-knuckled grip on the fork, staying there for several agonizing seconds. Ethan spoke first, his voice empty of emotion. “It’s fine.” The maid silently stepped forward and handed me a clean fork. During dinner, Ethan occasionally placed cut pieces of steak onto my plate, his movements as natural as they used to be years ago. I whispered “thank you” every single time, forcing myself to swallow every bite. *** **2** Julian and I were originally orphans. Later, we were adopted by different families. He was taken in by the ultra-wealthy Vance family. But the couple who fostered me only wanted a free, obedient maid. I studied like my life depended on it, got into an Ivy League university, and managed to get a job at Julian’s corporation after graduation. I was so naive back then. I actually believed that hard work could change my destiny. At the company, I found my long-lost brother. The day the DNA test results came back, Julian held me tight and cried, saying he had finally found his little sister. I cried too, thinking I finally had a family. Later, I met Ethan, and we got engaged. For a moment, I thought the misery of my life was finally over. Until Melanie Sterling showed up. She was my brother’s darling, and Ethan’s irreplaceable first love. I found out she was playing both of them at the same time, and I tried to expose her. Instead, she framed me. She made me take the fall for corporate espionage, leaving me with a felony record and a suspended sentence. A black sedan drove me to the slums and dumped me there. The driver left me with one final message: “Mr. Vance said he doesn’t have a ruthless sister like you. Don’t ever come back.” In the beginning, I tried to start over. But with a criminal record, no decent company would even give me an interview. I had to go to the most remote, shady factories to do the most grueling manual labor. One day, a machine on the assembly line malfunctioned. The new girl next to me froze in terror. I rushed over to hit the emergency shutoff switch. After a blinding flash of pain, I lost two fingers on my left hand. The factory owner claimed I was just temporary under-the-table help and had no insurance. Then, they fired me. Because being disabled made me less efficient. After that, I could only do odd jobs. Washing dishes, sweeping streets. I took whatever I could get. I barely stayed alive. “Sera?” Ethan’s voice dragged me back to reality. I raised my head and realized both he and Julian were staring at me. I had unconsciously curled my left hand into a tight fist. “What’s wrong with your hand?” Julian asked, his eyes narrowing sharply. I quickly hid my hand under the table, shaking my head. “Nothing.” But Ethan suddenly reached over and gently grabbed my wrist. His hand was incredibly warm. Mine was ice-cold. “Let me see,” he said, his voice dropping low. I pulled back, but I couldn’t break his grip. Julian had already stood up and walked over to my side of the table. Ethan gently pulled my hand up into the bright light of the chandelier. That hand was skeletal, covered in thick, rough calluses. And on my left hand, the index and middle fingers were completely missing, leaving behind ugly, distorted scars. Silence fell over the room like a heavy shroud. Ethan’s hand trembled violently. Julian’s breathing suddenly became ragged and heavy. I slowly pulled my hand out of Ethan’s grip and hid it under the table again. “A factory machine,” I explained calmly. “It happened a long time ago.” No one spoke. After what felt like an eternity, Julian asked in a hoarse voice, “Why didn’t you tell us?” I looked at Julian and let out a tiny, soft laugh. “It’s fine,” I said. “It’s not a big deal. It doesn’t stop me from working.” I meant it. Missing two fingers only made me wash dishes a bit slower, but I could still wash them. Sweeping took a bit more effort, but I could still sweep. In the slums, as long as you were alive, nothing else was considered a big deal. Both of them remained silent for a long time. Eventually, they said nothing more and went back to their seats. When I returned to my room, the maid had already drawn a hot bath for me. The tub was massive, steam rising from the warm water, with fresh rose petals floating on top. The moment I stepped in, the warm water wrapped around me. I couldn’t help but let out a long, shaky sigh. It felt so good. This warm, safe feeling. Compared to shivering in freezing public restrooms to wipe myself down with cold water for the last five years, this was absolute heaven. Dignity? Pride? Self-respect? In the face of survival, those things were as light as dust. I understood now. As long as I could have clean water, a soft bed, and a life where I didn’t have to worry about starving tomorrow… Forget admitting I was wrong. Even if they made me get on my knees and beg, I would do it gladly. The proud, stubborn Seraphina Vance from five years ago was long dead. The shell that remained only wanted to survive. After my bath, I walked over to the window and pulled the curtain back just a fraction. In the garden below, the lights cast a soft, warm glow. Ethan’s car was still parked there. He was leaning against the door, holding a lit cigarette, the red ember glowing in the dark. I used to hate the smell of smoke. It always made me cough. Back then, whenever he smoked, I would pout, snatch the cigarette from his mouth, and crush it. He would always laugh, pinch my cheek, and say, “You’re so bossy.” Ethan was staring up at my window. The moment he saw me pull the curtain, he froze, looking a bit panicked as he quickly threw the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his shoe. Then, my phone buzzed. I picked it up. “I’m sorry, Sera,” his voice came through the receiver, sounding incredibly lost and anxious. “I won’t smoke near you again.” I answered sincerely, “It’s fine. You can smoke whenever you want.” There was a long silence on the other end. “Didn’t you hate it when I smoked?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white. My brain scrambled to process this. Why was he asking that? Was this a test? Was he unhappy with my reaction? “Before…” I paused, making my voice even softer, gentler, dripping with a carefully crafted desire to please. “Before, I was just immature.” *** **3** There was only dead silence on the line. I licked my dry lips and continued, “I won’t do that anymore. You can smoke if you want to. It really doesn’t bother me.” As I spoke, I could feel my heart racing. Not because of any lingering affection, but out of sheer terror. I was terrified of saying the wrong word, of failing to give them the reaction they wanted. Because if I failed, they would think I still hadn’t learned my lesson. They would think I was still the same stubborn girl. And then, that black sedan would show up again. They would throw me right back into that alley smelling of mold and rotting garbage. No. I could never go back there. “I really know I was wrong,” I added, pleadingly. “Ethan, I promise. I’ll be good.” I heard his breathing turn heavy and ragged through the phone. “Sera…” He called my name, but the rest of his words seemed to choke in his throat. I waited for a few seconds, but he didn’t say anything else. “I’m tired,” I whispered. “Can I go to sleep?” “…Go to sleep.” I pulled the curtains closed and lay down on the bed. The mattress was so soft I sank right into it, and the duvet felt light as a cloud. I kept my eyes open, staring up at the gorgeous crystal chandelier on the ceiling. Everything here was too perfect. It didn’t feel real. When I woke up the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. I could hear faint voices coming from downstairs. As I walked down the staircase, I looked through the banister and saw the scene in the living room. Julian was sitting on the main sofa, and opposite him sat a woman. She had soft curls, wore an elegant dress, and had a delicate, beautiful profile. Melanie Sterling. My breath hitched in my throat. Ethan was there too. He was sitting on a single armchair to the side, his expression cold and distant. Melanie was the first to notice me. “Sera?” She set her cup down, a sweet smile spreading across her face. “Julian told me you were back. Welcome home.” She walked over to me. “It’s been so many years. You’ve gotten so thin, Sera.” I looked into her eyes. Those beautiful eyes of hers were filled with pity, the exact look someone would give a dirty, stray dog. “I’m fine,” I said. “Everything will be better now,” she said gently. “You’re home. Julian and Ethan will take good care of you.” Ethan set his coffee cup down and looked at me. His gaze was intense and complicated. “Since Sera is back,” he started, his voice quiet but commanding enough to silence the room. “I want us to get married as soon as possible.” Julian frowned slightly. “So soon?” “Yes.” Ethan’s eyes softened as they locked onto my face. “Sera has suffered too much out there. I want to make it up to her as soon as possible.” Julian fell silent for a moment. He looked at me, then at Melanie, and finally let out a sigh. “Fine. Though I’ll miss having her around.” Melanie’s smile didn’t waver. “This is wonderful news. Sera and Ethan have been engaged for so long anyway. It’s about time they made it official.” “Julian, you should be happy for your sister.” Julian gave a noncommittal grunt and didn’t reply. I stood there like an outsider, listening to them plan my wedding. “How about the fifteenth of next month?” Ethan asked. “Is that too rushed?” Melanie asked softly. “A wedding takes a lot of planning.” “We can make it happen,” Ethan replied firmly. They kept talking about guest lists, venues, caterers… Every word floated past my ears and vanished into thin air. “Sera,” Ethan suddenly called out to me. “What do you think?” I turned my head to look at him. “Nothing. Whatever you guys decide is fine.” Julian glanced at me then, his eyes landing on the dress I was wearing. It was a style from five years ago. He spoke up, his voice warm and gentle. “I’ll take you to the mall to buy some new clothes later. We haven’t bought you anything in years.” My chest tightened, and I quickly waved my hands. “No, no need. I have enough clothes.” Julian’s brow furrowed. “You used to love shopping. You’d drag me to the mall and make me walk around with you all day.” I paused, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I was wrong back then. I was immature. I wasted too much money.” The living room fell dead silent. Ethan suddenly spoke up. “Just have them deliver the clothes here.” I looked up, not quite understanding. “I’ll have the personal shoppers from our usual boutiques bring the latest season’s collection straight to the mansion for you to choose,” Ethan explained, his tone completely natural. Julian nodded. “Good idea. Pick as many as you want, and look at some jewelry too.” He reached his hand out, wanting to pat my head the way he used to. Before my brain could even process what was happening, my body reacted on pure instinct. I flinched violently, jerking backward to avoid his touch. *** **4** Julian’s hand froze mid-air, and the warmth on his face instantly vanished. His voice turned cold. “Sera, are you still angry with me?” My heart hammered against my ribs. My survival instinct took over, and I immediately lowered my head, frantically apologizing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was wrong.” Julian’s tone grew heavier. “Why are you flinching when I’m just talking to you?” “I…” I opened my mouth, but no words came out. “I didn’t mean to. I just… I’m just…” I was just used to it. In the slums, any sudden movement toward me meant danger. A shove from a drunkard, a slap from a factory boss, or those disgusting, predatory hands reaching out in the dark… “I’m sorry, Julian,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face, even though I knew it must look pathetic. “I’m just not used to it yet. I won’t do it again.” Julian stared at me, his eyes dark and unreadable. Melanie smoothly broke the silence, her voice sweet and soothing. “Julian, don’t scare Sera. She just got back. She needs time to adjust.” Ethan stood up and walked over to my side. He didn’t touch me, but he stood there like a shield, blocking me from Julian’s intense gaze. “Take your time,” he said softly, defusing the suffocating tension in the room. Julian glanced at Ethan, then back at me. “I was too impatient. Sera, I’m not mad at you.” “I know,” I said quickly. “It’s my fault.” Since coming back, I spent most of my time in my room, rarely going downstairs. But today, a maid knocked on my door. “Miss Vance, Ms. Sterling is on the phone. She wants to invite you out for coffee this afternoon.” My chest tightened. My immediate instinct was to say no. But I was terrified of making her angry. I was terrified they would think I was being ungrateful. The meeting was at a quiet, high-end French café. The moment I pushed the door open, I knew I shouldn’t have come. Sitting on the plush velvet sofa next to Melanie was another woman. Chloe Harrington. She was wearing the latest designer coat, her makeup flawless. When she saw me walk in, she raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. Melanie smiled and waved at me. “Sera, you’re here! Come, sit. Chloe happened to be nearby, so she joined us.” I sat down on the single armchair opposite them, shrinking my body to take up as little space as possible. Everyone in our high-society circle knew Chloe had been obsessed with Ethan for years. Five years ago, she had never missed an opportunity to make my life miserable. “I heard you’re marrying Ethan?” Chloe got straight to the point, her tone dripping with venom. “Sera Vance, you really know how to play your cards. Couldn’t cut it in the slums, so you crawled back to leech off of Ethan again?” I kept my head down, saying nothing. “Chloe,” Melanie chided gently. “Don’t say that.” “Am I wrong?” Chloe sneered. “Everyone knows what she did back then. She stole company secrets and tried to frame you, Melanie. Sera, your skin is remarkably thick.” I clenched my hands, my nails digging deep into my palms. “Oh, right!” Chloe acted as if she had just remembered something. “I heard you’re a cripple now? Missing two fingers? Well, I guess karma is real after all.” I snapped my head up. Chloe was staring at me, her eyes filled with nothing but smug cruelty. Melanie sat beside her, sipping her coffee elegantly, completely silent. At that moment, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over me. Five years. I had run for five years, feared for five years, lived like a dog for five years. Since coming back to this house, every single day felt like walking on a tightrope. I had to calculate every word three times before speaking. And for what? Just to stay in this gilded cage and let these people humiliate me? To let them look at me like I was trash? I slowly uncurled my fists and looked up, staring directly at both of them. “Ms. Harrington, Ms. Sterling,” my voice was incredibly calm—calmer than I ever thought possible. “I know neither of you wants me here.” Chloe blinked, clearly not expecting me to be so direct. Melanie set her coffee cup down, her eyes locking onto mine. I continued, “So, how about we make a deal?” “A deal?” Chloe laughed as if she had just heard a hilarious joke. “Yes.” I nodded. “I’ll sell them to you.” “What did you say?” Chloe frowned, thinking she had misheard. “Julian Vance and Ethan Caldwell,” I said their names slowly, like reading items off a grocery list. “Ms. Harrington, you want Ethan. Ms. Sterling, you want to be the next Mrs. Vance, right? I will pull out. I will disappear completely and never show my face again.” I looked at their stunned expressions and even managed a small smile. “It’s a great bargain. Two.point-five million dollars each. That’s five million dollars total.” “Five million is pocket change to women like you. But to me, it’s enough to start a new life somewhere else.” “What do you say?” The moment the words left my mouth, the door to the private room was slammed open from the outside. Julian and Ethan stood at the entrance. Both of their faces were deathly pale, as if they had just been brutally struck. Their eyes were wide, filled with absolute shock, betrayal, and deep, bleeding hurt. The air in the room froze. I looked at them. They looked at me. No one said a word. Finally, Ethan spoke, his voice incredibly hoarse and trembling. “Sera… what did you just say?”

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On a miserably rainy day, while waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up, I scrolled past the fifty-first video of a relationship influencer trying to win her ex back. The caption read: “It’s pouring today. If you don’t come, I won’t leave.” The attached picture showed a girl in a drenched white dress. I clicked on her profile. Her bio read: “The account name is your birthday. Every time I need you, I will post a video. If I post fifty-two videos and we still haven’t gotten back together, I’ll agree to the blind dates my parents set up, and forget you forever.” Seeing the digits that matched my boyfriend’s birthday, I thought it was just a crazy coincidence. I clicked on the comment section, ready to type: “Don’t ruin your own health just to beg for a man’s pity.” But right then, a message from my boyfriend popped up on Snapchat. Ethan: Caught up in emergency overtime. Can’t pick you up. Find a way home yourself. Disappointed, I replied with a quick “Okay.” When I went back to the influencer’s profile, the page had already refreshed. Video #52: I always knew you never forgot me. Thank God I waited. Everyone, he came to get me. We are back together. This account will never be updated again. And in the attached photo, the ragged cloth the man was using to wipe her wet shoes was the hand-crafted leather keychain I had spent days making for him.

The comments section was flooded with “true love wins” and “so happy for you guys.” Each word felt like a needle stabbing into my eyes. The photo of their locked fingers made my heart stop. The faint scar on the back of that broad hand was from last night. Ethan had burned himself while cooking oatmeal for me. He had hidden it because he didn’t want me to worry. A wave of sheer absurdity washed over me. Before my brain could process it, my fingers instinctively dialed his number. Ethan’s voice was gentle as always. “Did you get an Uber, Chloe? Share your live location with me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Not yet. What are you doing right now?” He paused for a second. “Working overtime at the office.” Just as the words left his mouth, a woman’s soft voice whispered in the background. “Do you want to take a shower? Your clothes are soaking wet.” At that moment, it felt like an invisible hand squeezed my heart. “What are you doing, Ethan?” He rushed to explain. “A pipe burst at the office. Don’t overthink it. Go home, okay?” The line went dead. I waited in the rain for an hour before finally getting an Uber home. When Ethan got back, it was already 1:00 AM. “Why are you still up? Didn’t I tell you not to wait for me? Remember, you said you wanted to be the most beautiful bride. No staying up late.” He carried a faint scent of gardenia. It was a perfume I never used. Looking at his genuinely concerned face, I couldn’t believe this was the same man. I didn’t answer. I just stared at him. “Where is the keychain I made for you?” He stiffened slightly. “The rain was too heavy. The leather strap got soaked and ruined. I sent it to a leather repair shop. I’ll get it back in a couple of days.” To prove it, he showed me a screenshot of his chat with a local repair shop owner. That keychain was something I made after running through dozens of stores to find the perfect leather strip when he got into a car accident two years ago. Even when the ring got loose before, he never let anyone else touch it. He always fixed it himself. I took a deep breath, telling myself it might just be a coincidence. After all, he had told me his breakup with his ex was toxic and messy. He said they would never speak again in this lifetime. “You still remember we’re trying on wedding dresses tomorrow, right?” He stroked my hair. “Of course.” But the next day, halfway to the bridal shop, his phone rang. I didn’t hear what the person on the other end said, but his expression instantly turned tense. He hung up and looked at me seriously. “A colleague has an emergency and needs my help. Go ahead and look at the dresses first. I’ll join you later.” I grabbed his arm instinctively. “But it’s impossible to get an Uber here. What’s so urgent that you have to leave right now?” He frowned, looking annoyed. “I really have to go, Chloe. Stop throwing a tantrum.” He practically pushed me out of the car. It was the first time he had ever abandoned me like this. In the past, no matter how urgent work was, he would always make sure I was settled before leaving. Watching his car speed away, I opened my phone. The Instagram account had just updated. Amber: My parents kept setting me up with men, but thank God he showed up. The screenshot of the call log she attached showed a phone number. The last four digits were identical to Ethan’s. My chest throbbed with agonizing pain. After what felt like an eternity, the manager of the bridal shop called. “Hi, Chloe. Your appointment time has passed. Are you still coming in today?” My throat felt blocked by a heavy stone. I choked out, “No, we’re not.” She hesitated. “In that case, we need you to come by and sign the cancellation form.” I took a cab to the bridal shop. But before I could walk in, I spotted a familiar figure through the glass window of a café across the street. Ethan was sitting next to Amber. Opposite them sat a couple of middle-aged people. They were laughing and chatting, looking incredibly intimate. I had seen that girl in his old cloud drive photos. She was his ex, Amber. The anxiety that had kept me awake all night finally settled. It was all true.

I opened our chat. My hands shook violently as I typed and deleted a dozen messages. Words couldn’t even describe the void in my chest. Finally, I snapped a photo of them through the window and sent it to him. Ethan checked his phone, and his head snapped up instantly. His eyes locked with mine. He whispered something to the table, rushed out of the café, and ran toward me. His face was a mask of panic. “Chloe, it’s not what you think! Her parents are forcing her to marry someone else, and I was just helping her out as a friend. You—” Before he could finish, a middle-aged woman rushed out of the café, grabbed my hair, and yanked it hard. “So you’re the homewrecker trying to steal my daughter’s fiancé? I knew you looked like trouble!” I screamed in pain, trying to pull away. “Get off me! I’m his actual girlfriend!” I looked at Ethan, who was frowning and trying to pull the woman off me. The next second, Amber ran over with tear-filled eyes and clutched Ethan’s sleeve tightly. “I know you’re his ex, Chloe! Even if you guys only broke up a few days ago, you’re still his ex! You trying to ruin our relationship makes you a disgusting side chick!” With that one sentence, the onlookers around us began to whisper, casting dirty looks at me. My eyes welled with tears as I looked at Ethan. “Ethan… did we break up?” He looked at me in pure panic. Before he could speak, the older woman, Brenda, slapped me hard across the face. “You shameless bitch! Still trying to seduce him right in front of us? I’ll teach you a lesson!” My cheek burned with sharp pain. No one in the crowd stepped in to help. My attempts to explain were drowned out by another slap. Ethan finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Brenda, stop! Please. You know I only have Amber in my heart. Let’s not waste our energy on irrelevant people. Come on, let’s go eat.” My heart stopped for a second. Brenda was pulled back. Before she left, she glared at me and spat on the ground. “You cheap trash! If I ever see you near Ethan again, I’ll ruin your face!” I collapsed onto the pavement, watching their retreating backs. Ethan turned around to look at me once. A fleeting look of pity crossed his eyes. Nobody helped me. I dragged myself up by leaning against the cold brick wall. As I reached the street corner, my phone buzzed with a message from Ethan. Ethan: Go to the urgent care and get cleaned up first. I’ll explain when I get home. Amber has severe depression and can’t handle any stress. Her mom was just being protective. Don’t take it personally. The man who once couldn’t bear to see me get a paper cut, the man who would have called the police or fought back if anyone dared to touch me, was now telling me to “don’t take it personally.” At this moment, I finally understood how much his ex actually meant to him. My lips trembled as I typed back: Chloe: We are done. Break up. After sending the message, I went to the ER. The doctor diagnosed me with a mild concussion. When I finally dragged myself back to our apartment with the medical report, I found my suitcases and boxes thrown outside the door. I tried to scan my fingerprint, but the lock was disabled. The passcode had been changed too. Just as I was about to bang on the door, it swung open. Ethan stood there, frowning. He lowered his voice, looking incredibly annoyed. “Amber’s parents insisted on seeing where we live. I had to bring them here. You’ll have to find a hotel for a few days.” “I packed your stuff. I transferred some money to your PayPal.” Before I could speak, Brenda’s loud voice echoed from inside. “Ethan? Who’s at the door this late?” Ethan hastily pushed me away, his face instantly turning cold and indifferent. “No one. Just the garbage collector asking for plastic bottles.” With that, he slammed the door shut in my face. The thunderous bang shook the stack of my luggage, and a framed photo sitting on top slid off. With a sharp shatter, the glass broke. It was our picture—the one Ethan used to keep proudly on the top shelf of the bookcase. A shard of glass grazed my cheek, leaving a thin, bleeding cut. Our smiling faces in the photo were now split in half. As I knelt down to pick up the broken glass, the door opened again. A plastic bag full of empty soda cans was thrown at my feet. Amber’s sweet, mocking voice drifted down. “Don’t come knocking on our door again. Stop bothering decent families.” I froze. But this was my home. This was the apartment we bought together for our upcoming wedding. I was the one whose life had just been shattered.

But I didn’t have the strength to fight back. The man who promised he would always shield me, who promised to always keep the porch light on so I’d never feel lost, had personally kicked me out. As I dragged my heavy suitcase out of the apartment complex, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my mother. Mom: Chloe, if you really love him that much and can’t live without him, your father and I won’t stop you anymore. We looked at the calendar, and next month is a great time. You guys can go register your marriage then. Tears finally spilled over, blurring my vision. For years, my parents had opposed our relationship because they didn’t want me to move across the country. I had spent years praying for them to give us their blessing. I never expected that when they finally did, it would be the exact moment I chose to let go. I looked back at the lit window of the apartment. The shadows of their “happy family” were reflected on the curtains. I wiped my tears and typed a short reply. Chloe: No need, Mom. We broke up. My mother called immediately. Fearing she would worry, I made up a quick excuse and hurriedly hung up. On Monday morning, the moment I walked into the office, everyone stared at me with weird, judging eyes. I was completely confused until my boss, Mr. Vance, called me into his office. On his desk lay a letter and his phone. The phone screen was playing the viral TikTok video of me being beaten and called a homewrecker in front of the café. It had already been shared hundreds of thousands of times. “Mr. Vance, it’s not like that! This is a huge misunderstanding!” He didn’t say anything. He just pointed to the envelope on his desk. I opened it. Ethan’s familiar handwriting felt like a blade slicing through my chest. I never could have imagined that the man who had written me hundreds of love letters would personally write an anonymous complaint to HR, accusing me of “moral turpitude” and “damaging the company’s reputation by homewrecking.” Mr. Vance sighed. “Chloe, I know you moved all the way here to marry your fiancé. I actually felt bad for you, and I was planning to give you a promotion and a raise this week. But look at this mess. Pack your things and leave. HR will wire your severance.” My fingers felt numb, and the letter slipped from my hand onto the floor. I called Ethan with shaking hands. He declined my calls repeatedly. Finally, he sent a text message. Ethan: They forced me to write that HR complaint. Just wait a little longer, okay? Once I’m done playing along with her family, I promise I’ll explain everything. Just go back to your parents’ place to avoid the drama for now. I shut off my phone and blocked his number. When I checked into a hotel, I was shocked to find my parents waiting in the lobby. They had heard about the breakup and rushed over, terrified that I was hurt. I didn’t want them to worry, so I lied and said it was just a mutual decision. All I wanted now was to pack up and leave this city forever. But just as we were about to check out, Amber and Brenda burst into the lobby, filming us with their phones. “Look, everyone! This is the homewrecker! She’s using my future son-in-law’s money to hide out in a fancy hotel! I’m telling you, they’re getting married soon. Return his money right now, or I’ll make your life living hell!” My father immediately stepped in front of me, shielding me. “What are you talking about? Who is your son-in-law? What does he have to do with my daughter?” Amber sobbed, her eyes red. “Sir, you seem like a good father. How could you raise a daughter who sleeps with other women’s fiancés?” My father’s face turned pale with anger. “That’s a lie! My daughter was with her boyfriend for five years, and they are already broken up! Stop harassing us and put that phone away! You are violating our privacy!” With that, he pushed Amber’s phone away. She lost her balance and tumbled to the floor. Brenda’s eyes went wide. “Assault! They’re assaulting us! Look at how violent these people are! Like father, like daughter! They support homewrecking and beat up innocent people! There is no justice!” Just then, a figure broke through the gathering crowd and rushed over.

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To meet my online boyfriend for the first time, I starved myself and worked out like crazy to lose 100 pounds. But the day before our big meet-up, I stumbled across a post on a local forum. “Rehoming my online girlfriend.” “Been together for over a year. She has a sweet voice, a great personality, and is amazing at emotional support. DM me if you’re interested.” Someone asked in the comments why he was giving up such a great girlfriend. He replied: “I found her real-life info online. She’s super fat. I only date hot girls.” The comment section immediately filled with mockery. “I was actually interested, but if she’s fat, never mind.” “Who wants a fat girl? Keep her to yourself, man. Haha.” Only one person replied, “Check your DMs.” I stared at the poster’s profile picture. It was the exact same profile picture as my online boyfriend. And the post had been active for three months already. I froze, my mind going completely blank. Suddenly, things from three months ago started to make sense. Carter had changed a lot back then. He had suddenly become cold and distant, even breaking up with me once, saying he was just bored. I thought he was just going through a phase, so I practically begged him to stay. He reluctantly agreed to keep trying. Right after that, he insisted on changing his Snapchat account. His excuse was that his old one was too cluttered with spam, and since he was starting college, he wanted a fresh start. So, I added his new account. Even after that, he remained a bit distant for a while, and his personality seemed totally different. It took some time before we got back to our usual sweet, lovey-dovey state. I thought he had just had a change of heart after getting bored. I never imagined… I looked down at my phone. A message popped up from him. “Babe, I looked at the calendar and saw your period is coming up. I ordered you some hot chocolate. Make sure to drink it while it’s warm.” “I can’t wait to see you next month. I’m a little nervous. Are you excited, babe?” My eyelashes fluttered, my finger hovering over the screen. So… who exactly was this person about to meet me? When Maya came to find me, she was hesitating, biting her lip. “Chloe, did you and Carter break up?” “Why do you ask?” I asked calmly. She didn’t answer but handed me her phone instead. “See for yourself.” When we used to play games online together, Maya got pretty close with one of Carter’s gaming buddies. That guy had sent her a screenshot of Carter’s private Instagram story. In their group chat, someone had asked Carter: “Yo, why haven’t you brought your girl to play games with us lately?” Carter replied: “We broke up.” Everyone was shocked. “Wait, weren’t you guys doing great? Why the sudden breakup?” “I used to love her voice and always assumed she was a babe. But last time she posted a screenshot, her delivery receipt showed her real name. I knew which high school she went to, so I had someone dig up her info.” “Turns out she’s a massive whale, nearly two hundred pounds! I swear I almost threw up on the spot. I’m a visual guy, you know? I dumped her immediately.” Someone joked, “Maybe her voice sounds good because her fat is choking her vocal cords. The sweeter the voice, the bigger the whale!” “But I remember that girl was head over heels for you. She always protected you in-game. Did she really agree to the breakup?” Carter replied, “She didn’t want to. So I basically rehomed her. I posted a listing to transfer her to someone else. It’s not like she knows my real name anyway.” Then, he shared a link to the “Rehoming my online girlfriend” post. The replies below were wild. “Holy shit, that’s insane. You can actually transfer a girlfriend?” “Carter, you’re a genius! Now she definitely won’t harass you anymore. She must have hidden her face on purpose. If it wasn’t online, you would never have dated someone like her for a year. She deserved it.” “Being catfished by a wild hog for a whole year must have scarred you, man. Not planning on dating for a while?” Carter replied, “Actually, I’ve got my eyes on a new target. There’s a super cute, innocent girl in the incoming freshman Snapchat group.” Carter came from a wealthy family and often bought coffee or drinks for the group. Naturally, everyone loved to stroke his ego. They quickly replied, “Damn, Carter’s fast! Already snagged a baddie.” “Only a top-tier girl is worthy of you, bro.” “Any pics? Let us see!” Carter sent a photo. In the picture, the girl wore a white sundress and a light cardigan. Her natural ash-brown hair was tied in a loose side ponytail resting on her shoulder. She was pale, skinny, with eyes that crinkled beautifully when she smiled. She was indeed very pretty. I recognized her instantly. It was Haley Vance from our freshman Snapchat group. She had shared her photo in the group earlier, and the guys immediately started hyping her up as the new campus belle. Maya was fuming. “Carter dated you for over a year, and he just tossed you aside like garbage. He even ‘rehomed’ you? What an absolute scumbag.” “And honestly, this Haley girl isn’t even prettier than you. She’s just pale and skinny.” “Chloe, you should post your photo in the group right now. Make him regret it.” I stared down at the screen. In that chat, only one person had tried to stand up for me. “But that girl really loved you. I remember every time you got ambushed in the game, she was always the first to rush in and die for you. Isn’t this a bit too cruel?” A moment later, Carter replied casually: “I only care about looks. What can I do? Just thinking about being with that fat pig for a year makes me want to vomit.” “If she wants to blame someone, she should blame her own ugly face.”

On my way home that evening, another guy stopped me to ask for my Snapchat. After politely declining, I walked slowly down the street by myself. The summer evening was chilly under the overcast sky, and it looked like it was about to pour. I caught my reflection in the glass window of a boutique shop. My face was small and delicate, with sharp, naturally alluring features. I remembered what Maya always said to me with envy, “Even girls who spend six figures on plastic surgery don’t have a nose as perfect as yours! Every time we go out, everyone’s staring at you. It’s insane!” I knew I was pretty now. When I went out, guys would often pay for my drinks, ask for my contact info, and I had even been approached by talent scouts. But before dating Carter, my life was completely different. I had been overweight since I was a kid. In high school, I weighed nearly two hundred pounds. My eyes were almost swallowed up by the fat on my cheeks. “Fatty.” “Ugly girl.” I had heard every insult in the book. Because of that, I was incredibly insecure. The bigger I got, the more I hid in baggy clothes, which only made me look worse. I had crushes, too, but whenever those boys found out I liked them, they reacted as if they’d been deeply insulted, yelling slurs at me. But whenever I tried to lose weight, my parents always told me I didn’t need to. They said I was cute just the way I was. They were both on the heavier side themselves, so they didn’t see obesity as a problem. My teenage years were spent entirely in the shadow of other people’s mockery. Until I met Carter in an online game. He was captivated by my voice and insisted on adding me. After playing together a few more times, we became close. After some time, Carter confessed his feelings to me. I stayed up all night agonizing over it. I knew Carter was well-off. While we played together, he gifted me countless in-game skins and tried to send me real-life gifts, which I always refused. And even though he didn’t have clear photos of his face on his feed, there were plenty of pictures of him vacationing all over the world, showing his back. He had a great build, and the hotels he stayed at were incredibly expensive. I knew he only liked my voice. If he saw the real me, he would never love me. But I really, truly liked him. Carter was so cheerful. Back then, whenever I was sad, he would always comfort me. He would even send out gift cards in the game’s public chat lobby, paying strangers to leave nice messages to cheer me up. In the end, I said yes. I hid my weight and all my personal details, terrified that he might look me up. I even tried to test him once. “What if I’m not pretty?” He replied instantly, “With a voice as beautiful as yours, how could you not be pretty? Babe, stop teasing me.” “Babe, when can we finally meet? I miss you so much.” “Babe, let’s go to the same college so we can see each other every day.” I stared at the screen for a long time, and finally made up my mind to lose weight. From that day on, I went on a brutal fitness regime. It didn’t matter if I was too hungry to sleep, if my stomach burned with acid reflux, or if I collapsed from exhaustion after working out. No matter how much my parents begged me to take just one bite of their high-calorie food, I refused. I just wanted to be skinny. I lived like that for nearly a year. I didn’t touch a single high-calorie meal. Countless times, I cried myself to sleep from hunger, but the thought of him kept me going. Finally, I did it. From 180 pounds to 160, then 120, and finally, 110 pounds. I started learning how to take care of my skin, do my makeup, style my hair, and dress up. During this time, Carter suggested visiting me several times, but I always made up excuses to dodge him. I always felt like I wasn’t pretty enough yet. Until the boys in my class started looking at me differently. I started receiving love letters. Walking down the street, guys would blush, ask for my number, and tell me how gorgeous I was. Only then did it hit me: I had actually become beautiful. I finally gathered the courage to meet Carter. I applied to the same college as him, and we agreed to meet up during freshman orientation week. But… It turned out I was just a game to him. I thought all those sweet words were real. But now that I thought about it, he had never even told me his real name. Even the name “Carter Bennett” was something I found out through Maya’s gaming crush. From beginning to end, he had never truly loved me.

In the freshman group chat, Haley posted another photo. She was at Disneyland, wearing Mickey Mouse ears and a pleated skirt, looking youthful and radiant. The boy next to her was cropped out. But at a single glance, I recognized the watch on his wrist. It was the exact same luxury watch Carter had flexed on his Instagram before. The chat was buzzing. “The queen has blessed us with a pic!” “So gorgeous! Who’s the guy next to you?” “Looks like Carter. Lucky bastard!” I had just found out from Maya that Carter started pursuing Haley the moment she posted her first picture in the chat. Word was he had flown directly to her city, bought her tons of expensive gifts, and even rented out a private fireworks show for her. Now, they were officially together. Carter spammed the chat: “Haley is my girl now.” “Carter’s the man! You guys look so good together!” “Oh my god, this is so sweet. I believe in love again!” “Only a girl like her is worthy of Carter.” … Then, someone brought me up. “You guys have no idea. Before this, Carter was catfished by some fat chick for over a year. He was scarred for life. Thank god he finally found a beautiful girl. Congrats, man!” Haley asked, “Who?” The guy quickly filled everyone in on the story. The chat immediately erupted with mockery. “Holy shit, a fat girl actually thought she had a chance with Carter? Disgusting.” “Ugly girls are always losers in real life, so they resort to catfishing online.” “I heard she’s coming to our college too. Maybe she’s in this incoming class. Can’t wait to see how hideous she actually is.” Haley chimed in with a soft laugh, “She must have been really insecure. Being ugly isn’t her fault, but catfishing people is just wrong.” Carter replied, “Let’s not talk about the past. Just thinking about it makes me sick. I’m just glad I have you now.” Carter had no idea that I had joined the freshman Snapchat group using a burner account. I had witnessed his entire new love story from start to finish. Someone asked Carter in the chat: “Carter, what was that catfish’s name? Maybe we’ll run into her when campus opens.” Carter replied: “Chloe Sterling.” “Sounds super basic. No wonder she’s ugly.” In the next second, I switched to my main account and entered the group. I set my display name to: Chloe Sterling. The group chat went dead silent. But I knew everyone was staring at their screens, waiting for the drama to unfold. A few minutes later, Haley sent two messages. “Welcome to the group, Chloe!” “Hey Chloe, we’re having a freshman pre-party tonight. Want to join us?” I knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to make me a laughingstock. I smirked and typed a single word: “Sure.” Just as I was getting ready for bed, my online boyfriend, “Not-A-Nugget,” sent me another photo. “Babe, look at this bag. I bought it in Italy. I knew it would look perfect on you the moment I saw it. I’ll give it to you when we meet!” “Babe, why are you ignoring me? Are you asleep?” “Babe!” I frowned. This guy had bought Carter’s old account, and he was really playing the part of the doting boyfriend. He was incredibly generous, though. Last month, he sent me a designer necklace and a luxury skincare set. For Valentine’s Day, he got me a designer purse. He even sent me flowers on random weekdays. But he already knew I was fat. What was he playing at? I decided to test him. I sent him a photo of me from a year ago. 180 pounds, my eyes squeezed into tiny slits by my cheeks. “This is what I look like. If you can’t handle it, let’s just break up. I don’t want to waste your time.” I refused to believe he’d stay after seeing that. He replied almost instantly. “Babe, you look so cute.” I’m speechless. Was this guy out of his mind? I typed back frantically, “Look closely! I’m 180 pounds! I’m fat!” “I know. I think you look adorable. But please make sure to stay healthy, babe.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Was this guy also overweight, or did he just have some weird fat fetish? “What do you look like?” I asked. “I haven’t seen a photo of you yet.” Not-A-Nugget sent a barrage of photos. There were pictures from different angles, full-body shots, and even a close-up of his abs. I let out a cynical laugh. The guy in the photos had broad shoulders, a snatched waist, and visible obliques. He looked at least 6’2″. But what was even more ridiculous was his face. He looked like a literal K-pop idol or a high-fashion model. He had warm, hazel eyes that seemed to hold a gentle smile, and messy black hair pushed back to reveal a perfect forehead. He looked incredibly youthful and charming. Right. Catfishing me with Pinterest photos, are we? I thought. “Babe, I just took these randomly without dressing up. Do you like how I look?” Fine. We were going to meet up anyway. Let’s see how he handles getting caught in his own lie. I scoffed in real life, but typed back sweetly: “Oh my god, babe, you’re gorgeous! Is this really you? I can’t wait to meet you!” “Awesome! By the way, I have something to tell you when we meet.” I smirked. Probably that you used fake photos, I thought. I replied, “Okay.”

The moment my flight landed, my phone started buzzing like crazy. “Babe, where are you? I’m waiting at the arrivals gate. I’m holding a huge bouquet of flowers!” Photo attached. “Babe, I’m so nervous. What if you don’t like me when you see me?” … The photo only showed a massive bouquet of red roses, hiding the person behind it. For a catfish, he was surprisingly romantic. My heart softened a little, and I thought, Whatever. Even if he doesn’t look like his photos, we can just clear the air and start as friends. After all, he had been incredibly sweet to me over the past three months. He was there for me day and night. When I couldn’t sleep, he’d stay on the phone with me even when he was half-asleep and mumbling nonsense. He found excuses to buy me gifts and send me cash on every holiday, or even just random weekdays. He remembered every single thing I liked and even tracked my period cycle. He was a genuinely good guy. So what if he was a little plain-looking? I could handle that. Suddenly, a guy walking next to me nudged me gently. I turned around, and he blushed furiously. “Hey, sorry to bother you. But I’ve noticed you since we boarded. Can I get your Snapchat?” I waved my hand politely. “Sorry, I have a boyfriend.” His face flushed red. “Oh, sorry! My bad.” I dragged my suitcase toward the exit. From a distance, I spotted the giant bouquet of roses blocking the face of the person holding them. But I could see his silhouette. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a lean waist. Was he one of those guys with a great body but a face you wouldn’t look twice at? I didn’t believe for a second that “Not-A-Nugget” actually looked like those model photos. If he did, why would he date me? The person holding the flowers seemed to grow anxious, peeking out from behind the roses, his eyes searching the crowd frantically. My jaw literally dropped. Holy crap. He looked exactly like his photos. In fact, he was even more handsome in person! “Not-A-Nugget” wasn’t a catfish? A few girls nearby were already whispering and pointing at him, blushing. I walked up to him, my emotions in chaos. “Are you…” I expected him to look surprised when he saw my face, but instead, he frowned. “Can I help you?” he asked coldly. I tilted my head, pulling out my phone. “Who are you waiting for? Want to exchange Snapchats?” He looked even more annoyed now. “I’m waiting for my girlfriend. No.” I was stunned. Ever since I lost weight, no guy had ever treated me with such icy indifference. Wait… does he actually have a fat fetish and hate pretty girls? Seeing that I wasn’t leaving, he sighed impatiently. “Could you please move? My girlfriend is going to be here any minute.” I let out a helpless laugh. “Nugget, it’s me. Pumpkin.” “What Nugget, Pump…” He choked on his words, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You? Pumpkin?” “No way! Absolutely no way! Don’t you look like… aren’t you…” “Weren’t I super fat and ugly?” I finished his sentence for him, explaining, “I lost weight.” “Or do you actually have a fat fetish and only like ugly girls?” The guy who had been cold and annoyed a second ago turned bright red in an instant! “No! I don’t! I mean…you were really cute before too, you weren’t ugly! I just…” “So am I cute now?” I suddenly found his flustered reaction adorable. “Yes! I mean, you’re cute now too! You’re gorgeous! I just didn’t expect this!” He frantically shoved the massive bouquet into my arms. It was so heavy that I stumbled back a step. He panicked and immediately reached out to steady me. “I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!” I burst out laughing. “Didn’t you say you were going to take me out for good food when we met?” “Let’s go.”

Ethan was exactly like his online persona. Despite being ridiculously handsome, he didn’t have any of the typical arrogant “pretty boy” attitude. He was incredibly sweet, gentle, and attentive the entire day. I found out his real name was Ethan Brooks, and he was also an incoming freshman at our university. Although we had different majors, we were on the same campus. He took me to an upscale restaurant, pulling out my chair and cutting my steak for me, blushing so hard he barely dared to look me in the eye. He spent the whole afternoon taking me around the city, and when he finally dropped me off at the restaurant for the freshman pre-party, he looked at me reluctantly. “Text me when it’s over. I’ll come pick you up.” … The restaurant they chose was packed. As I approached the private dining room, I could hear voices echoing from inside. “Is everyone here?” “Not yet, Chloe Sterling hasn’t shown up.” “Chloe? You mean the fat girl who catfished Carter?” someone sneered. “She’s probably too chicken to show up.” “Duh! If she saw our queen Haley, she’d die of embarrassment. Girls like her only dare to catfish guys online. Nobody would look at her twice.” Haley joined in the laughter, leaning her head against Carter’s shoulder. “Don’t be so mean, guys. Being ugly isn’t her fault.” Just as I was about to walk in, a slightly plump girl beat me to it and stepped into the room. The room went dead silent for a second, and then everyone started exchanging smirks. “Well, if it isn’t Chloe. You sure take your sweet time making an entrance.” “You look exactly like Carter described.” “Have a seat. Wait, do we need to pull up two chairs for you? Will one be enough?” The room erupted into loud laughter. Carter draped his arm around Haley’s shoulders, a smug, mocking smirk playing on his lips. The girl looked at them like they were crazy, then calmly started unloading dishes from the food cart outside onto the table. She was just a waitress. The laughter in the room instantly died, replaced by awkward silence. That was when I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room fell into a suffocating silence. Every single eye locked onto me. A guy with a buzz cut froze, his beer glass suspended in mid-air. The yellow liquid spilled over the rim, dripping onto his pants before he snapped out of it, frantically wiping himself. The girl across from him, who had been laughing the loudest a moment ago, now had her mouth open in a perfect ‘O’ shape. Haley, who had been lazily leaning on Carter’s shoulder, sat up straight in an instant. Her smug smile vanished, and she unconsciously began fixing her hair. And Carter? He was staring at me, completely paralyzed. “Holy shit…” I heard someone whisper. Someone finally broke the silence. “Hey, gorgeous… are you in the wrong room? This is a freshman pre-party.” The buzz-cut guy who had mocked me earlier quickly chimed in, “Even if she’s in the wrong room, it’s fine! She looks like a freshman too. She can eat with us!” I smiled. “Hi everyone. I’m Chloe Sterling.” The room practically exploded with shock. The buzz-cut guy stuttered, his jaw dropping. “You’re Chloe? No way!” “But Carter said you were…” I smiled sweetly. “Said I was what?” My eyes swept over Carter, whose face had turned completely pale and rigid. He looked pretty much like I expected. Objectively speaking, he was very handsome. But it was a flashy, player kind of handsome. His bleached blonde hair was perfectly styled, and he had a pair of flirtatious eyes that made him look like a textbook playboy. “Who’s Carter? I don’t think I know anyone named Carter,” I said flatly. Carter froze in his seat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Unconsciously, his arm slipped off Haley’s shoulder. Haley bit her lower lip, her face darkening. I found the whole scene hilarious. I knew that look in Carter’s eyes. I had seen it on countless faces over the past few months. It was pure awe. But in Carter’s eyes, there was also something else. Regret. “Chloe?” he finally spoke, his voice hoarse.

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My roommate said her period had started and asked if I had a spare tampon. I didn’t lend her one. Instead, I stood right up in the middle of the lecture hall and shouted to the entire class: “Hey, Mindy’s on her period and needs a tampon! Does anyone have one she can borrow?” In my previous life, I had been kind. I rummaged through my bag and handed her one. How was I to know that three days later, she would test positive for HIV and face expulsion? Choking back tears, she had told everyone: “I only borrowed one tampon from Chloe. The plastic wrapping was already torn open, but I didn’t think much of it at the time…” “I don’t know if she did it on purpose, but now I’m infected. My life is completely ruined.” Dean Vance didn’t even listen to my explanation. He suspended me on the spot and called the police, accusing me of intentionally transmitting an infectious disease. Not only did I lose my degree and my study abroad fellowship. I was doxed and relentlessly cyberbullied on Instagram and TikTok, making it impossible to live a normal life. In the end, I jumped from a highway bridge, ending my own life. Only after my death did I find out that Mindy had been infected long before that day. She had been sleeping with multiple guys at the same time. Fearing expulsion once her test results leaked, she used me as a scapegoat. She also wanted to get me kicked out of school so she could steal my slot for the prestigious study abroad fellowship. In this life, I rejected you in front of the entire class. Let’s see how you’re going to pin your disease on me this time.

“Chloe! Are you out of your mind?” Mindy stood up abruptly. More than forty pairs of eyes in the lecture hall instantly locked onto her. She clutched her lower stomach, her eyes already pooling with tears. “If you didn’t want to lend me one, you could have just said so! Did you really have to scream it out?” I capped my pen, my face completely expressionless. “A period is a perfectly normal biological process. It’s not something to be ashamed of.” “You were too shy to ask, so I was just helping you out.” She was left completely speechless. Around us, some students ducked their heads to hide their snickers, while others muttered that I was being too blunt. Mindy glared at me. “Never mind.” She grabbed her bag, hunched over, and walked out of the classroom. After class, the Snapchat group chat instantly blew up. Someone joked: [Lmao, Chloe’s shout literally woke me up from my nap today.] [Mindy’s face turned completely green.] [But honestly, girls shouldn’t blast each other like that over a tampon.] Mindy didn’t reply in the group chat. Instead, she posted a picture on her Instagram Story. There was no caption. Just a photo of a hospital corridor, featuring an IV stand, a sterile white wall, and a glimpse of her pale wrist. Ten minutes later, the replies poured in. [What happened, babe?] [Is it bad cramps?] She sent a blanket reply to everyone: [I’m fine. It was just my own carelessness.] The next day, Mindy didn’t show up for lectures. By the third day, she still hadn’t returned to our suite. My other two suitemates, Hailey and Jessica, were whispering in the common area. “What is actually going on with Mindy?” “She said it’s too private to talk about.” In the afternoon, right after I stepped out of the library, my phone rang. It was Dean Vance. “Chloe, come to the student affairs office right now.” When I arrived, Mindy was sitting on the couch, her face deathly pale, clutching a medical report in her hand. Dr. Cooper from the campus clinic was also there. Dean Vance sat behind his desk, his brow furrowed in a deep scowl. “Chloe, Mindy has raised a very serious accusation against you.” Mindy looked up at me. Her eyes were red and swollen, as if she had been crying all night. “Chloe, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I’m just so scared.” Dean Vance slid the medical report across the desk. “Mindy got tested at the university hospital. She tested positive for an infection.” He paused, adjusting his glasses. “She claims that a few days ago, she borrowed a feminine hygiene product from you.” I asked, “Did she actually borrow one?” Mindy burst into tears immediately. “You didn’t lend me one in class that day, but you did the night before in our dorm! I asked you, and you grabbed one from your drawer.” “I saw the plastic packaging was slightly torn at the corner, but I didn’t think much of it then.” Dean Vance said in a stern voice, “Chloe, denying this won’t help you. You must cooperate with the university and go to the clinic for a full panel test immediately.” “I never gave her anything.” “It’s not up to you to decide whether you did or didn’t,” Dean Vance’s voice grew heavier. “You live in the same suite, share a bathroom, and are close. For the safety of the other students, you must get tested right now.” I looked him straight in the eye. “I refuse.” The office door wasn’t fully closed. Two students passing by in the hallway stopped in their tracks. “What infection?” “Is it… that kind of disease?” “She refuses to get tested? Isn’t that basically admitting she’s guilty?” The whispers cut through the air like tiny needles. Dean Vance’s face darkened even further. “Think carefully, Chloe. If you refuse to cooperate, the administration will treat this as a severe disciplinary violation.” Mindy kept her head down, her shoulders shaking violently as she sobbed. Meanwhile, I stood by the door, listening to the footsteps gathering outside. Everyone was waiting for me to break.

The rumor spread like wildfire. By 7:00 PM, someone had already posted anonymously on the campus Reddit board: [Drama in Dorm Building 3. Someone intentionally spread a disease to their roommate.] [I heard it was through a shared tampon.] [For real? That is fucking disgusting.] When I walked back to my dorm, the door was slightly ajar. The chatter inside abruptly died. Hailey was sitting on her bed, and Jessica was standing by her closet. The moment they saw me, their expressions looked as if they were looking at a walking plague. I put my books on my desk. Jessica immediately took a half-step back. “Chloe, can you please not touch the common table for now?” I looked at her. “Why?” She looked a bit embarrassed. “It’s not like that… It’s just, until things are cleared up, we all want to be careful.” Hailey whispered, “Mindy is already devastated. She’s been crying all afternoon, saying her life is over.” “She’s only twenty.” I pulled out my chair and sat down. “And?” Hailey blinked, stunned. I continued, “Just because she’s devastated, she gets to frame me for something that never happened?” Jessica frowned. “Can you not be so cold-blooded? She tested positive. Who would make a joke about something like this?” “And since I haven’t been tested, you all have already pronounced me guilty?” No one answered. The only sound in the room was the low hum of the ceiling fan. A few minutes later, Mindy walked in. The second she crossed the threshold, Hailey rushed over to support her. “Mindy, why are you back? Didn’t the doctor say you should rest?” Mindy shook her head. She looked at me, tears rolling down her cheeks instantly. “Chloe, I really don’t want to blame you.” “If it was an accident on your part, I can forgive you.” The moment she said that, Jessica’s gaze toward me grew even colder. I let out a soft laugh. “If you don’t want to blame me, then keep my name out of your mouth.” Mindy’s sobbing paused for a second. Her fingers clenched tightly around the hem of her cardigan. “I’m just telling the truth…” “Truth requires evidence,” I said. The atmosphere in the room completely froze. Ten minutes later, Dean Vance sent a notification to the department group chat on WhatsApp. [To ensure the health and safety of our students, Chloe will be temporarily relocated from her current dorm room, effective immediately, pending further administrative investigation.] A stream of “Acknowledged” quickly followed in the chat. Hailey let out a sigh of relief when she saw the message. Jessica muttered, “This is for the best. For everyone.” For the best. I had heard that phrase too many times in my past life. When they forced me out of the dorm, they said it was for the best. When they revoked my research funding, they said it was for the best. When they forced me to take a leave of absence, they said it was for the best. I packed a few clothes and my laptop. I didn’t take anything extra. Because I knew this was only the beginning. Even the resident advisor downstairs looked at me with pity and suspicion. She handed me the key to a temporary isolation room, her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t blame the school, honey. Parents are breathing down our necks right now.” I took the key. “I know.” “If you really have… something, get treated early. Don’t drag it out.” I looked up at her. She quickly averted her eyes in embarrassment. I carried my bag toward the end of the hallway. The temporary room was in the basement corner, right next to the utility closet. It was damp and smelled of mold. I tossed my bag onto the bare mattress. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Dean Vance. [Your President’s Merit Scholarship application has been temporarily suspended.] I turned off my phone and sat on the edge of the damp bed. My heart was completely calm. Mindy probably thought she had won half the battle by getting me kicked out. But she didn’t know. I was simply waiting for her to blow this up as big as possible.

The next morning, I went back to my old dorm to grab my textbooks. Two clear plastic bins were piled up outside the door. My towel, mug, face wash, and slippers were all stuffed inside. A sticky note was taped to the top: [Please do not bring your personal belongings back into the common area.] A few students walked down the hallway, slowing their pace. “Is that her?” “Yeah, I heard she’s quarantined in the basement.” “She actually has the nerve to come back and get her stuff?” I crouched down and began transferring my things into a tote bag, one by one. Hailey came out of the suite. When she saw me, she turned pale. “Chloe, why didn’t you text us before coming?” “Do I need a permit to get my own books?” Her lips trembled. “No… it’s just, everyone is really scared right now.” “Scared of what?” I stood up. “Scared of me breathing?” Her face flushed red. Jessica poked her head out from the door. “Cut the sarcasm, Chloe. Mindy is in a really fragile state right now. Can you please stop triggering her?” I looked past her into the room. Mindy was lying in her bed, her privacy curtain half-drawn. She didn’t show her face, but she let out a soft, dry cough. As if to remind everyone that she was the victim here. I walked over to my desk and noticed my drawers had been rummaged through. My notebooks were piled messily, and my class materials were scattered all over the floor. I turned around. “Who touched my things?” Jessica braced herself and said, “We just helped you pack them so no one would accidentally touch them.” “Helped me?” I picked up a notebook with a ripped cover. “Did you have my permission?” Hailey said softly, “It’s an emergency situation.” Jessica let out a cold laugh. “You seriously have time to complain about this? If the Dean confirms the infection, you might not even be allowed to stay enrolled.” At 10:00 AM, Dean Vance called me into his office again. A printed document lay on his desk. He got straight to the point. “Chloe, the situation is escalating. Mindy’s parents contacted the Chancellor last night, and they are extremely furious.” “The university suggests that you voluntarily submit a withdrawal form.” He pushed the paper toward me. “This way, it won’t look too bad on your official transcript, and you’ll still have options for your future.” I looked at the bold letters on the paper: Voluntary Withdrawal Application. I pushed it right back. “I’m not signing it.” Dean Vance’s face darkened. “Chloe, don’t back yourself into a corner.” “I’m not backing myself into a corner. You are trying to force me to confess to something I didn’t do.” Dean Vance frowned. “Your attitude is highly problematic. Mindy has suffered severe trauma. As her suitemate, the least you can do is cooperate.” “Cooperating doesn’t mean admitting guilt.” Dr. Cooper, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. “Chloe, from a medical standpoint, we need you to take a test as soon as possible to rule out any possibilities.” I turned to him. “I can take a test, but not under the assumption that I am already guilty.” Dean Vance slammed his hand on the desk. “You are in no position to bargain right now!” More students gathered outside the open door. The walls in this building were paper-thin. Any raised voice could be heard across the entire floor. Dean Vance lowered his tone. “We have a departmental town hall meeting this afternoon to announce the administration’s decision. You’d better think it over before then.” I grabbed my bag. “I’ve already thought it over.” As I stepped out of the office, I saw Mindy standing at the end of the hallway. She was wearing a white coat, her face completely drained of color. Seeing me leave, she slowly pulled down her face mask. She stared at me, her lips curling into a smug, triumphant smirk. Like she was looking at a bug she had finally crushed into the dirt.

The afternoon town hall meeting was held in the department’s main lecture hall. It was officially labeled as a “Campus Safety and Health Seminar.” But everyone knew exactly what it was about. The moment I walked in, the buzzing room fell dead silent. A single seat in the very front row was left empty. A piece of paper was taped to the desk: [Chloe] They were putting me on display under the spotlight. I sat down. Whispers erupted behind me immediately. “I can’t believe she actually showed up.” “She’s got thick skin, I’ll give her that.” “If I were her, I would have dropped out by now.” I didn’t look back. Mindy sat in the middle of the third row. Hailey and Jessica sat on either side of her, holding her hands. Mindy wore a mask, her eyes red and puffy, looking as though she might faint at any second. Dean Vance walked up to the podium and turned on the microphone. “We are holding this meeting today because of a recent incident that has severely impacted student well-being and campus order.” He didn’t say my name. But his eyes were locked onto me. And following his gaze, the entire room turned to look at me. “Based on our preliminary inquiry, a student has engaged in unsafe personal conduct and concealed health risks, causing physical harm to a peer and sparking widespread panic.” “The department is proposing disciplinary probation for Chloe, along with the immediate suspension of her scholarships, research privileges, and honors consideration. Depending on the investigation’s outcome, we will recommend suspension or forced withdrawal.” A collective gasp echoed through the lecture hall. Someone muttered, “That’s actually too soft on her.” “Mindy is the one who got ruined.” “She should be expelled.” Right then, Mindy stood up. Tears streamed down her face. “Dean Vance, may I say a few words?” Dean Vance nodded. She walked to the front of the room, her body trembling slightly. “I know everyone has been worried about me these past few days.” “Thank you.” She sniffled. “Actually, I don’t want to hold a grudge against Chloe. I know she’s been under a lot of pressure with her studies, and our scholarship competition has been intense. Since we share a suite, maybe there was just some… misunderstanding.” She turned her tearful eyes to me. “If she didn’t do it on purpose, I am willing to forgive her.” What a beautiful act of forgiveness. Before I was even proven guilty, she had already climbed onto the judge’s seat to grant me mercy. Some girls in the crowd started tearing up. Hailey was outright crying. Jessica held Mindy’s shoulders, raising her voice so everyone could hear: “Mindy, you are way too sweet!” A few people started clapping. Soon, the applause spread across the entire room. Sitting in the front row, I watched them all get deeply moved by her “grace.” Mindy finished her speech and walked toward me. She stopped right in front of my desk, her voice soft like a sigh. “Chloe, I just really hope you won’t hurt anyone else in the future.” I looked up at her. And suddenly, I laughed. Mindy’s expression froze for a fraction of a second. She couldn’t understand. Why would someone who was about to be suspended, disgraced, and stripped of her scholarship still be laughing? Dean Vance frowned. “Chloe, if you have any objections to the disciplinary action, you can file an appeal privately after the meeting. Do not disrupt the assembly.” I stood up. “No need to wait.” “Since you’ve announced your decision in public, I will respond in public.” Dean Vance’s face shifted. “Sit down!” I didn’t budge. “Sir, every single sentence you just spoke constitutes a public accusation against my character and reputation.” “If the department insists on handling it this way, I will call the police immediately, and file a formal complaint with the Title IX office and the board of education.” The room went dead silent. Dean Vance glared at me. “Are you threatening the administration?” “I am protecting my legal rights.” I looked up at the projector screen. “Give me three minutes. After three minutes, you can decide whether you still want to suspend me.” Dean Vance’s face was grim. “No.” I pulled out my phone and unlocked the screen. “Fine. I’ll dial 911 right now. Let’s let the police figure out who is slandering whom, and who is helping them cover it up.” Another professor stood up, walked over to Dean Vance, and whispered in his ear. Dean Vance’s expression was incredibly ugly. After a few tense seconds, he spat out through his teeth: “Three minutes.” I plugged my phone into the projector system. Mindy stared at me, a flicker of genuine terror finally appearing in the depths of her eyes. I tapped on the first file. The moment the screen lit up, the entire room gasped in unison.

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This was the twentieth time I threatened Ethan Sterling with divorce. But this time, my best friend, Chloe, didn’t try to stop me. Usually, she would do everything in her power to hold me back. She would even run to Ethan’s office herself to beg him to make peace with me. But this time, she was quiet. She helped me contact a lawyer, drafted the divorce papers, and ran around handling the paperwork at the family court. As I was about to sign, I couldn’t help but ask her why she was acting so differently. It was like I had touched a sore spot. She snapped, her voice full of sudden anger: “Do you have any idea that Lily had a miscarriage because of your drama this time? When are you going to stop?” Lily Vance. She was Ethan’s mistress. Seeing my shocked expression, Chloe sighed deeply: “Actually, Lily is my cousin. I was the one who introduced her to Ethan in the first place.” “For all these years, I’ve felt so guilty. I did everything I could to make it up to you, but Maya, I’m just so tired.” She put her hand on my shoulder: “Just do it for me. Stop fighting them, okay? Whatever they owe you, I’ll pay it back.” I went completely cold, feeling as if I had fallen into an ice cave. So, whether it was friendship or love… It had been a massive lie from the very beginning. While she wasn’t looking. I quietly opened the divorce agreement. And stroke by stroke, I signed my name.

The air in the room was dead silent. Then, my phone rang. The name “Lily” flashing on the screen felt like a cruel joke. Chloe’s expression softened instantly as she picked up: “Okay, I’m on my way.” Hanging up, she regained her usual cold composure: “I know you don’t really want a divorce. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have let me convince you to stay every other time.” “Go back, apologize to Ethan, and swear you’ll never harass Lily again. Let’s just end this drama here.” With that, she grabbed her car keys and rushed out of the family court building. Outside, the wind began to howl, and a heavy downpour started to splash against the windows. I gripped the signed divorce papers tightly. I suddenly remembered the first time I caught Ethan cheating. It was on a rainy day just like this. Two tangled bodies, a messy bed. Faced with my screaming and crying, Ethan had only looked at me with complete indifference: “It was just a temporary craving.” “Why are you crying? You’re still the only Mrs. Sterling.” That day, I went mad. I ran into the pouring rain and tried to jump into the river to end it all. It was Chloe who risked her life to drag me back. She cried and swore to me: “Ethan was just playing around.” “Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to make him change his mind and come back to you.” Later, every time Ethan cheated, I tried everything—slitting my wrists, threatening to jump from buildings, even trying to take him down with me. And every time, Chloe would stop me at all costs, telling me over and over that Ethan would change. But he never did. Not once. One was my husband, the other was my best friend. They used to argue passionately over whether I hated onions or cilantro in my food. They used to stand up for me whenever I was bullied, one fighting the bullies and the other pulling me to safety. Now, they were hurting me ruthlessly for the exact same woman. I guess nothing lasts forever. I tried to control my shaking hands—a symptom of my worsening anxiety—and took a big step out of the courthouse. From now on, I only rely on myself. When I got back to the house, luxury jewelry boxes were piled up across the dining table. This was Ethan’s usual routine whenever I brought up divorce. No apology, no explanation. Just a delivery of the latest designer jewelry the next day. But this time, as I walked closer, the deep, blood-red color of a ruby necklace flashed in my eyes. I instantly threw up. Years ago, my mother was publicly cyberbullied and called a cheap homewrecker. To prove her innocence, she jumped from a high-rise building right in front of me. Her body shattered on the pavement. Blood was everywhere. Since then, the color red has been my absolute worst nightmare. With trembling hands, I shut the jewelry box and dialed Ethan’s number on Snapchat. He didn’t pick up within ten seconds like he used to. One minute, thirty minutes, an hour passed. My phone was filled with missed call logs. I couldn’t sit still anymore. I stood up. I opened the location-tracking app I had installed on Ethan’s phone long ago. I grabbed the divorce papers and my car keys, and went out the door. Following the GPS. I found the estate in the suburbs that Ethan had bought for Lily. The moment I reached the gate, a security guard blocked me: “No unauthorized personnel allowed.”

The estate was heavily guarded, almost as if they were trying to keep a specific person out. I squeezed the divorce papers tighter and cleared my throat: “I’m looking for Ethan Sterling. I am his wife.” The guards looked at each other, then let out sneers: “What kind of nonsense is that? Everyone knows Mr. Sterling’s wife is Lily, the lady living inside.” They looked me up and down, judging my simple clothes: “A woman dressed like a total cheapskate claiming to be his wife? Who are you trying to fool?” I bit my lip, refusing to move from the gate. A few minutes later, a butler-like figure came out of the villa and whispered to the guards. The guards suddenly pulled out security batons: “Get lost! Mr. Sterling said he doesn’t know anyone named Maya Miller. Beat it!” With that, they shoved me hard onto the wet ground. One of them even raised his baton toward me. “What do you think you’re doing?” The sharp screech of tires stopped the guard in his tracks. Chloe scrambled out of her car and rushed over to pull me up: “You already caused Lily’s miscarriage. You knew Ethan wouldn’t want to see you. Why do this to yourself?” I bit my lip stubbornly, refusing to say a word. Chloe sighed: “Fine. Follow me inside.” The guards let us through. We walked through several iron gates and finally reached a grand, vintage-styled reception hall. The moment I stepped inside, I froze. The hall was filled with glamorous people, clinking glasses, and a festive atmosphere. And right in the center of the room hung a massive, beautiful wedding portrait of Ethan and Lily. It was a wedding reception. Our former business partners, mutual friends, and college classmates were all there. The very same people who used to look down on Lily for being a homewrecker. Now, they were all lining up to offer her their warmest congratulations. Through the crowd, Ethan spotted me. His body went rigid. He pushed through the guests and walked over: “Did Chloe bring you in?” I remained silent. He let out a heavy sigh: “Lily has been with me for years without any legal title, and she just lost our baby. She just wanted a small wedding celebration to cheer her up.” “It’s our special day. Can you please stop making a scene?” He reached out, trying to pat my head like he used to, but I flinched away violently. His hand froze in midair, and his eyes instantly turned cold and disgusted: “Fine. What do you want this time?” “Designer jewelry? A penthouse with a river view? Or more shares in my company?” My heart ached sharply. Over the years, whenever I wanted a divorce. Chloe would always tell me that if I wanted to hold onto a man, I had to grab his wallet. So every time I caught Ethan cheating, Chloe would help me demand an outrageous amount of money and assets. And Ethan always gave them to me. But it only made him despise me more and more. I gripped the divorce papers, about to speak. Suddenly, Lily rushed straight toward me: “Why are you still here?!” A sharp, burning slap landed on my face. With tear-filled eyes, she glared at me: “You really are the daughter of a homewrecker. Just like your mother, you are toxic, vicious, and pathetic.” My heart felt like it was hit by a sledgehammer. My eyes went red: “My mother was not a homewrecker!” Ethan took a step forward, shielding Lily behind him, and glared at me with fury: “Enough! How much longer are you going to keep up this drama?” The impatience and disgust in his eyes were completely overflowing. I froze. The next second, someone shoved me hard from the side. Chloe, now wearing a bridesmaid dress, looked down at me with a cold face: “Your mother was a homewrecker, Maya. The family she ruined back then… was Lily’s.”

I froze completely. I looked at Chloe, then at Ethan. During high school, my mother remarried, only to be publicly accused of being a homewrecker. Later, we found out the man had lied about being single. He had a wife and a daughter. But no matter how much my mother pleaded, everyone labeled her a homewrecker. The day the man’s wife came to our door with a mob to humiliate her publicly, my mother jumped from the building. The man vanished without a trace to escape the scandal. After that, the rumor that I was “the daughter of a homewrecker” spread like wildfire at school. My locker was constantly filled with trash. My test papers were vandalized with red ink. People whispered behind my back wherever I walked: “Like mother, like daughter. She’ll grow up to be a homewrecker too!” I fell into such a deep depression that I had to drop out of school. It was Chloe who dragged me out of bed, washed my hair, and helped me clean up. And it was Ethan who walked me to and from school every day, snapping at anyone who dared to whisper: “Did you see it with your own eyes? Or did your own mother get cheated on?” Those bullies were always left speechless, and eventually, the rumors faded. The night we graduated high school, Ethan confessed his love to me. Before I could even nod, Chloe was already crying tears of joy: “Ethan, you know what Maya fear the most. Swear to me, swear you’ll never let her bear the shame of being cheated on!” Ethan immediately went down on one knee and swore to the heavens: “In this life, I will only love Maya. If I ever betray her, I hope I die a horrible death.” The three of us had such wonderful times. From high school to college. We started the company together, we were inseparable, we lived in cheap basement apartments and shared expired bread. But everything changed silently the moment Lily appeared. I could never understand why. Now, finally, I understood. “So… Lily is the daughter of the woman who drove my mother to her death?” Chloe quietly pulled Lily further behind her back: “What do you mean ‘drove her to death’?” “Lily told me the whole truth about what happened back then.” “It was your mother who ruined her parents’ marriage. She knowingly destroyed Lily’s family.” “After that, Lily had to live with different relatives for years. Her college years were a hundred times harder than yours.” My lips trembled uncontrollably: “You felt sorry for her… so you introduced Ethan to her?” Chloe avoided my gaze, but she didn’t deny it. “Enough!” Ethan stepped forward, looking at me with a cold face: “Even if Chloe hadn’t introduced us, falling in love with Lily was only a matter of time.” Looking at his determined eyes. I suddenly laughed. I laughed so hard that tears started rolling down my face. They looked at me defensively. The moment my hand reached into my bag. Ethan panicked and yelled: “Stop her! Don’t let her hurt Lily!” Several bodyguards rushed forward, pinning me brutally to the cold floor. Fists and kicks rained down on me. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. I suppressed a groan, wiping the blood from my lip: “Ethan… I came here to give you the divorce papers.”

His body went stiff. He looked down at me in utter disbelief: “Maya, when are you going to stop this childish drama?” Right. To him, every time I mentioned divorce, it was just a dramatic show. The suicide attempts, the screaming—it was always loud, but in the end, I would always listen to Chloe and go back to him. But only I knew that this time was different. The bodyguards let go of me, and I slowly stood up: “The jewelry, the cars, the house… I don’t want any of it. Just sign the papers.” Ethan’s hand, which was wrapping around Lily’s waist, froze: “I’m not signing. What kind of reverse psychology is this?” Lily had stopped crying by now, looking anxious: “Ethan, you promised me you’d give me a real family.” Ethan was silent for a long moment before whispering to her: “Sweetheart, I also promised her that I would give you my love, but keep her as my legal wife.” Lily turned her head away, looking incredibly hurt and angry. Seeing Ethan’s suspicious gaze, my heart felt a sharp prick. I had expected this reaction. I pulled a share transfer agreement out of my bag: “You’ve been wanting me to give back my shares in Sterling Group, right? Sign the divorce papers, and these are yours.” Chloe grabbed my arm tightly: “Are you insane?! You got those shares when we first founded the company!” “You can give up anything else, but if you lose those shares, you’ll literally have nothing!” I ignored her, keeping my eyes fixed on Ethan: “I know you’re currently bidding against Julian Hayes. With these shares, you’ll have absolute control over the company.” Ethan stayed silent for a long time, his eyes narrowing: “Maya, I can agree to the divorce. But you better not be playing any games with me.” I looked him straight in the eyes: “Ethan, let me go, and let yourself go. I’m just so tired.” As if triggered by my words, he snatched the papers from my hand and quickly signed them: “Fine! Let’s see how many days you can survive out there without the protection of the Sterling Group!” “I’ll be waiting for the day you come crawling back, begging me to remarry you!” I didn’t say a word. I just stared at his signature on the paper. “It’s signed. Now get the hell out of here!” He threw the papers right at my face. I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell. I just turned around and walked away. Behind me, Chloe was screaming my name: “Maya! Are you crazy? How are you going to survive without Ethan?” “Just because I didn’t stop you this one time, you actually went through with it?!” She tried to run after me. But Ethan’s cold voice stopped her: “Let her go. We’ve protected her too well all these years.” “It’s time she faces the harsh reality of the world. Only then will she realize how good she had it with us.” My footsteps paused for a fraction of a second. He didn’t know. My world didn’t have any storms. All the pain and disasters in my life were brought to me by them. I went back to the house and began packing. The high school photos, the college postcards. I left behind every single memory of the three of us. Just a few clothes and my ID documents. In this house, which was already taken over by Lily’s things, my belongings were pathetic. But at least it made packing quick. As I dragged my suitcase into the airport, a man in a black suit was already waiting for me: “Miss Miller, you did Mr. Hayes a huge favor this time. He has arranged everything for your trip.” “Don’t worry. As long as you don’t want to be found, Ethan Sterling will never find you.” I nodded to the man, turned off my phone, and boarded Julian Hayes’s private jet. Two hours later, the plane landed. A flood of text messages and missed calls popped up the moment I turned my phone back on.

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On Christmas Eve, my parents left me home alone again, claiming they had to work overtime for triple pay. Thinking about how they had done this for the past twenty years, I couldn’t stand the cold, empty house anymore. I packed some homemade lasagna and decided to surprise them at their workplace. But to my shock, my parents—who always whined about how hard they had to work just to get by—stepped out of a luxury Maybach. They had their arms wrapped around a girl my age. Laughing and chatting, they walked into a five-star hotel. “Mom, Dad, is it really okay to leave Ethan home alone?” the girl asked. My mom brushed it off. “It’s fine, Chloe. He’s used to it.” My dad scoffed. “He can’t be compared to you. You are our only treasure!” I turned and walked away. They had spent my entire life pretending to be poor just to deceive me. This time, I didn’t care about their company anymore. *** Back home, I dumped all the food on the table into the trash. If this were yesterday, I would have never done that. Since I was a little boy, I was told our family was broke. My clothes and food were all bought with money my parents supposedly pinched and saved. I barely ever had new clothes. Every season, my mom would bring home a bag of second-hand clothes. She would tell me, “These are from my coworker’s son. They’re clean. We don’t need to waste money on new ones.” I didn’t know where she got those oversized rags. Throughout my childhood, I never wore anything new. I always dragged around in ill-fitting clothes, and my classmates mocked me, calling me the dumpster diver. I had to study like crazy, thinking that one day I could buy my own clothes through my own hard work. During holidays, I handed over all the cash I got from relatives in Christmas cards, hoping to ease their financial burden. But they didn’t have any burden at all. I looked up the license plate. That Maybach belonged to the Harringtons, the richest family in the city. The Harrington heiress had once driven that exact car with a famous male celebrity, making headlines. I had seen the gossip news before. The face of the heiress was the exact same girl I saw tonight—Chloe. So, it turned out I was a billionaire’s son all along. I let out a bitter laugh, wiped my nose, and went to my parents’ bedroom to look around. Maybe they were too careless, or maybe they just didn’t care. They actually left their financial contracts in the drawer at home. When I saw a hundred-million-dollar contract signed with my dad’s name, with a luxury Montblanc pen clipped to it, my heart completely shattered. I put everything back exactly as it was, went back to my room, and pulled the blanket over my head. I just hoped that when I woke up, it would all be a bad dream. *** The next morning, my parents were busy in the kitchen. I looked at the breakfast on the table and suddenly realized something. Who has gourmet lobster benedict for breakfast on a normal day? The taste of this lobster was exactly the same as the expensive feast my college professor had treated us to last month. I glanced at the trash bag by the door. Sure enough, there was a luxury catering box inside. “Mom, Dad, did we hit the lottery?” I sat at the table and stared at them. My mom looked startled. “Ethan, what are you talking about?” “How else could we afford such an expensive lobster breakfast?” I pointed at the trash bag. My mom’s face instantly turned pale. My dad quickly chimed in with a fake laugh. “Oh, that! My boss had a big party last night and asked us to work late. He gave me the leftovers. I couldn’t bear to eat it myself, so I brought it back for us.” “With the little money your mom and I make, how could we ever afford to buy something like this?” “I see,” I nodded, sipping the coffee. I sneered in my mind. That breakfast box cost at least two hundred dollars. And their dinner last night probably cost tens of thousands. If they were truly poor, I would have found this breakfast delicious. But now, it tasted like ash. I took only two bites and stood up. “I’m full.” “Ethan, why did you eat so little? Are you feeling sick?” My mom looked incredibly anxious. Her worried eyes didn’t seem fake. I shook my head and forced a smile. “No, aren’t we going to Grandpa’s place today? I’m saving room for lunch!” Hearing this, my mom let out a sigh of relief. My dad looked guilty and was about to say something when his phone rang. I caught a glimpse of the screen. The caller ID read: *My Precious Daughter Chloe*. Chloe was his precious daughter. Then what was I? My dad quickly walked out to the balcony to answer it. My mom followed him. I could faintly hear her whispering, telling him to be quiet and not let me find out. My heart went completely cold. They had always known. They were just colluding to keep me in the dark. I even began to wonder if my life was just some sick version of *The Truman Show*. But their deceit was so terribly real. #### Chapter 2 *** After hanging up the phone, my dad came over to me. He pulled out a cash envelope and handed it to me. “Ethan, something came up at the office. I have to go in!” My mom comforted me, “It’s okay, honey. I’ll go to Grandpa’s with you.” I nodded, took the envelope, stuffed it into my pocket, and got ready to leave with my mom. When we arrived at the run-down apartment in the working-class suburb, my grandpa opened the door. The moment he saw me, he pulled me in. “Ethan is here! Come in, quick. It’s freezing outside!” His hands were soft and smooth. They didn’t look like the hands of a retired factory worker at all. My grandma saw me and immediately handed me a Christmas card with some cash inside. I took it. “Thanks, Grandma.” Then, I slid it straight into my pocket. My mom looked stunned. Normally, the moment I received any money, I would hand it right over to her. Back then, my mom would always smile and say, “Ethan is such a good, sensible boy.” But today, I broke the pattern. Even my grandma was surprised for a moment. Then she laughed, “Look at our Ethan, he’s learning to keep his pocket money now!” I shrugged and smiled. “I’m not hiding it. Mom said New Year brings new beginnings. I just want to keep some cash for myself.” “Yes, Ethan is very independent. He even pays for his own college tuition and rent by tutoring!” My mom added. I knew without even looking that Grandma had given me fifty dollars at most. Compared to my college tuition, this fifty dollars was a joke. They were so incredibly rich, yet they pressured and exploited me at every turn. I didn’t understand. Why was this “character-building hardship” only targeted at me? What did they mean by this? Grandma didn’t say anything else and went to the kitchen to fetch the food. But after taking a few bites of the lunch she brought out, I completely lost my appetite. The dishes were exactly the same as the ones I saw at the five-star hotel last night. Now I was absolutely sure. The whole family was filthy rich. My parents were pretending to be poor, and even my grandparents were putting on a show to play along. After lunch, my mom got a phone call and rushed off, claiming she had to cover a shift at work. My grandparents began to yawn, looking exhausted. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, so I stood up to leave. But I didn’t go far. I hid around the corner of the street and watched quietly. Sure enough, not even twenty minutes after I left, a luxury stretch Lincoln pulled up. Surrounded by a small crowd of bodyguards, my grandparents got into the car without looking back and drove away. I took a deep breath, pulled up my face mask, and walked back toward the apartment building. I saw a couple of professional cleaners heading up. One of them sighed, “I don’t get these rich folks. They only come to live in this dump once a year, cook a single meal, and then leave!” “Well, they pay a fortune for the cleaning service every time!” “You don’t know? This family has been doing this every year for over twenty years. They own a massive mansion in the southern hills. This is just how rich people ‘experience’ the simple life!” Hearing their conversation, my heart went completely numb. The richest family in the city, the Harringtons. Their estate was in Beverly Heights. I rode my bike all the way there. When I saw the golden, magnificent mansion nestled halfway up the hill, guarded by security, I realized this was a world I could never have dreamed of. As I approached, a security guard immediately barked, “Who are you? Get lost!” I took a deep breath. Just as I turned to leave, a luxury motorcycle roared past me. I had seen this bike online. It cost at least fifty thousand dollars. The person riding it was Chloe. #### Chapter 3 *** She saw me too and looked visibly surprised. She stopped the bike, looked me up and down, and let out a mocking sneer. “Well, you’re not entirely stupid. You actually found this place.” I froze. So, she knew about my existence too! “Why? Why are you doing this to me?” “Chloe, am I adopted? Or is this some kind of sick social experiment, and I’m just your lab rat?” Chloe seemed to read my confusion. She shook her head with a smirk. “No, you are a biological Harrington. You’re my actual brother.” “As for why you were raised like a beggar, there’s only one reason. Because I am the sole heir of the Harrington empire!” “This isn’t a place for someone like you. Now get lost!” “Oh, don’t look at me like that, poor boy. Our parents spent a lot of effort raising you!” “By the way, don’t bother visiting Grandpa and Grandma during holidays anymore. They are old. They don’t have the energy to play house with you.” Chloe revved her engine and sped through the gates. I stood outside for a long time, finally understanding everything. It seemed my birth and Chloe’s were tied to some twisted rule about family inheritance. But what did I do wrong? I only wanted my parents’ genuine love. They had lied to me for so many years, yet their past kindness to me felt so real. But now, looking at the mansion and that luxury bike, I began to doubt how much of that kindness was actually real. I turned around and left. Before leaving, I called my dad. “Dad, are you coming home for dinner tonight?” “No, Ethan. I have to work late. I get triple pay for these three holiday days!” “Your mom is working late too!” But through the phone, I could clearly hear the roar of Chloe’s motorcycle engine and the distant laughter of a garden party. I softly murmured an “okay” and made my decision. When I got home, I packed my things. At the same time, I applied for the special off-grid research program my university had posted. The project was located at an isolated station in the Alaskan wilderness. Once I went, I would be there for three years, completely cut off from the outside world. After packing, I printed out a photo of Chloe’s back that I had snapped earlier and left it on my nightstand. That night, they didn’t come home. I was all alone. I tried calling my dad again, but no one answered. Meanwhile, Apex Group—the Harrington family’s flagship company—was handing out massive holiday bonuses. Some employees posted their gratitude on Instagram. Even a low-level employee received a five-thousand-dollar cash bonus! Many others flexed their luxury company retreats online. My parents were right there in the photos. My dad was wearing a custom tuxedo, and my mom was holding a glass of expensive champagne, looking elegant and wealthy. Chloe was surrounded by a crowd like a princess. They even posted a perfect family portrait. My parents probably assumed I was too busy working part-time jobs to pay attention to social media gossip. But they forgot that I was just a normal kid. How could a boy raised in forced poverty not look at the wealthy world online? A reporter in the video asked about their holiday plans. My dad smiled at the camera. “My daughter, Chloe, is twenty-two this year. We go on an international family trip every year. We’re flying out tonight!” My heart sank. I was twenty-two too. But the furthest place I had ever been was a school field trip to the local zoo. I let out a dry laugh, took my birth certificate and Social Security card, and looked at them. It was almost funny. When I started college, my parents insisted on removing my name from their household lease, telling me to register my own address. They said I was an adult now and had to be responsible for myself. Well, this made it much easier to leave. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out the door without looking back. Marcus, Evelyn, goodbye forever.

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On my fifth wedding day, the ceremony was about to begin, and my groom and maid of honor were still nowhere to be found. In our group chat, a message from my best friend Olivia popped up first. “Sorry, Emma. Something came up at the firm last minute. I can’t be your maid of honor today. I’ll make it up to you next time, I promise!” Right after, Daniel Shaw sent a reply too. “Sorry, got called away on business. Let’s reschedule this wedding too. If it really can’t wait, you can just walk through the ceremony yourself.” I clenched the fabric of my wedding dress, my fingertips going white. Something lodged in my chest, and I could barely breathe. I scrolled up through the chat history. The last conversation was the two of them in a heated debate over a case. I’d asked about the wedding arrangements several times, and not a single person had answered. Between the three of us, I always seemed to be the one who could be ignored. A notification popped up on my phone. Olivia had just updated her private blog. “Sunrise at dawn, and you. Everything is just right. We really are the most in-sync romantic lunatics.” In the photo, she and Daniel stood on a mountaintop in matching hiking gear. Sunlight fell behind them like a wedding meant only for the two of them. I turned off my phone. My heart ached. Seven years of love. Ten years of friendship. Four previously postponed weddings. I’d made excuses for their busy schedules countless times. Missing my birthday was fine. Missing the funeral was fine. Even skipping four weddings was fine. It wasn’t until I found that account that I realized every single time they’d stood me up, they’d been traveling together, going to concerts together, watching the snow together, going to the beach together. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I left a comment under that post. “Since you two are such a perfect match, why don’t I just hand over the wedding and the groom?” The moment my comment went through, the post was deleted. The entire account was wiped clean. Messages from Olivia came flooding in, one after another. “Emma, I can explain. It’s really not what you think…” “Can you please not be angry?” “We’re just friends.” I swiped the messages away. All that was left inside me was numbness. Explanations didn’t matter anymore. Because I was leaving soon. I opened another contact and sent Ethan Cole a text. “In seven days, I’ll arrive in Northbridge with the research results you’ve been wanting. I’m joining RQ.” After I sent it, I removed my veil and stood in the empty bridal suite, staring at myself in the mirror. Flawless makeup. An expensive wedding dress. But I looked like a joke. Once, Olivia had laughed beside me as I tried on wedding dresses, helped me decorate the house, linked her arm through mine and said, “Daniel really lucked out, getting to marry someone as beautiful as you. If I were a man, there’s no way I’d let him have you.” In the end, the person who kept me from completing my wedding five times was still her. The phone rang. It was someone from the wedding planning company. “Ms. Reed, the ceremony time has passed. Would you like to reschedule, same as before?” I dug my nails into my palm, but my voice came out perfectly calm. “No rescheduling. There won’t be a next time.” The person paused, their tone turning careful. “Ms. Reed, are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? You and Mr. Shaw have been together so many years. Whatever the problem is, it can be worked out.” I looked down at the cheap ring on my right ring finger. Daniel had given it to me when he was seventeen. He’d said, “Emma, I don’t have much money right now. But someday when I do, I’ll buy you the most expensive diamond ring.” I’d taken that promise as a vow for life. But two weeks ago, I’d seen the diamond ring that should have been mine on Olivia’s blog. Cartier. Two hundred thousand dollars. Daniel had never given me anything that expensive. What I got was always a knockoff bracelet, discount perfume that wouldn’t sell, and one promise after another of “I’ll make it up to you later.” I’d spent eight years for this. I wrenched the ring off my finger and tossed it into the trash can at my feet. After hanging up, I sank into the sofa, my body slowly caving in. My chest ached terribly, but I couldn’t cry. At three in the morning, the door was shoved open. Daniel walked in, windswept and dusty, still wearing the same matching hiking gear as Olivia. I’d once stupidly asked Olivia, “When you bought the hiking gear, why wasn’t there one for me?” She’d laughed and put her arm around my shoulders. “You’re not healthy enough for hiking. Besides, the store had a buy-two deal, that’s the only reason I got them. Daniel has the stamina, so he can hike with me.” I checked later. That hiking gear had never been on sale. Two thousand a piece. A well-known couples’ brand. Daniel saw me sitting there and frowned, his voice cold as ice. “Why did you leave that comment on her post? Olivia was so upset she made me cancel work and come back to find you. Emma, can you stop making us worry all the time?” I stood up, my heart clenching like a fist was squeezing it. “You were on a business trip… on a mountaintop?” I looked at him. “Or do you think I’m actually stupid enough to see ninety-nine flirtatious posts and keep pretending I don’t notice?” Daniel looked away, his voice dropping. He reached out and grabbed my wrist. “Emma, I went hiking with her because I was worried she wouldn’t be safe alone. The business trip was real. Stop being so unreasonable.” I pulled my hand free, staring into the unfamiliar coldness in his eyes, my throat tight. “Daniel, that year I was chased by a drunk man for three blocks and nearly died in an alley, you were working overtime. You told me to stop making a scene.” I laughed once, though my eyes burned red. “And now you’re telling me you were worried she wouldn’t be safe hiking alone.” He said nothing. I took a deep breath. “Daniel Shaw, let’s break up.” The words hung in the air. Something like disbelief flickered in his eyes, and then he let out a quiet scoff.

“Emma, you’re so naive.” Daniel looked at me, his voice dripping with contempt. “Your mother is dead. Your father is a drunk. Who else is going to marry you besides me? Or are you planning to grow old alone?” My eyes stung instantly. Daniel saw my reaction, and his expression stiffened. He grabbed my hand again, his voice lower. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It slipped out.” But the things said without thinking are the most honest. When I was seventeen, my father came home drunk and nearly beat me to death. Daniel was the one who rushed in and took a knife for me. That day, bleeding, he stood in front of me and said, “As long as I’m here, no one will ever hurt you again.” The day my mother died, I cried at her grave until I couldn’t stand. He held me and said, “I’m sorry I’m late. Emma, from now on, I’ll love you the way your mother did.” It turns out even vows can rot. Daniel’s voice was cold. “You want to break up just because I went hiking with your best friend? You won’t even go through with the wedding?” I opened my mouth, numb. “Yes. Daniel, because I’m leaving—” Before I could finish, a slender figure burst through the door, cutting me off. Daniel let go of my hand almost on instinct. Olivia looked at him first, then turned to me. Her eyes were brimming with tears, as if she’d suffered some terrible injustice. “Emma, I’m so glad you’re okay. I was afraid you’d do something rash, so I rushed back immediately.” She walked up to me, her voice choked. “Haven’t the three of us always been the best of friends? Those posts were just jokes between friends. Don’t overthink it.” When I didn’t speak, she added awkwardly, “How could I possibly steal your man?” Right. Olivia was my best friend. But at some point I couldn’t pinpoint, I’d already been shut out of their world. When we walked together, I was always squeezed to the back. When we ordered food, no one heard what I wanted. When we planned a trip and it rained, they changed the flight time and no one told me. And they always brushed it off: “Emma, why are you so silly? We can’t pay attention to you every second. Just speak up if something’s wrong.” But I did speak up. Did anyone listen? I looked at Olivia, my voice very quiet. “I believe you. Let’s end it here. I’m done with both of you.” Olivia’s tear dropped to the floor with a splat. In the past, I would have felt sorry for her. But now, I couldn’t. When we were kids, Olivia and I lived on the same street in a poor neighborhood. She often couldn’t even get a warm meal, so I’d sneak bread from home for her. That one time, I was beaten black and blue by my father. Olivia looked at the bruises on my body and cried, “Emma, thank you for being my friend. I’ll spend my whole life repaying you.” I put my hand on her shoulder and smiled. “From now on, I’ve got your back.” Back then, I truly believed we’d be friends for life. Olivia’s voice trembled, each word stabbing into my heart. “Today’s wedding didn’t happen because of me. So let’s do it tomorrow, okay? Please don’t be angry.” I flung her hand off and slapped her across the face. “Tomorrow is my mother’s death anniversary. Did you not know that?” Olivia stared at me in shock, tears rolling down. “I just forgot…” Before she could finish, Daniel shoved me aside and pulled her behind him. My back slammed hard against the shelf behind me. Our high school graduation photo fell from the shelf. The glass shattered everywhere, and one shard sliced across my neck. Blood surged out immediately. Daniel glanced up at me, his voice cold and hard. “We’re busy with work. Forgetting things is normal. Not everyone has as much free time as you. Did you really have to hit her over something like this?” He stared at me, his eyes full of impatience. “Emma Reed, you’re acting like a lunatic right now. You’ve gone completely insane wanting to get married.” He was standing right in front of me. But it felt like there was an ocean between us. I opened my mouth. “I—” Olivia suddenly threw out a sentence, shoved Daniel aside, and bolted out the door. “This is all my fault! I’ll just leave. Don’t fight because of me!” Daniel immediately started after her, then stopped and turned back to look at me. “Take care of the cut on your neck first. I’m going to find her. It’s not safe out there at this hour. Cool off.” There was even tenderness in his voice. My heart plummeted. “Daniel, just go.” I looked at him calmly. “I’m selling this house. You don’t need to come back here anymore.”

Daniel’s face darkened instantly. “Emma Reed, what the hell is wrong with you? I already told you, it’s not what you think. What more do you want?” I wasn’t losing my mind. I simply didn’t love him anymore. “I don’t want anything.” I bent down and picked up the glass shards from the floor. “We broke up. Of course the house should be sold. Aren’t you always worried about her safety? Now you can move in with her and protect her twenty-four-seven. Aren’t you happy?” The photo had cracked into pieces. In the broken frame, I stood at the very edge. Daniel and Olivia were on the same side, untouched. My calm looked like provocation to him. He was livid. “Keep this up. I want to see if you’ll come crawling back, begging me to marry you.” He sneered. “Absolutely unbelievable.” I tossed the photo and the shards together into the trash, my voice soft as a sigh. “I won’t,” I said. “I’m leaving.” Daniel stared at me, his eyes even colder. “Fine. If you’re going to run away this time, go far. I’m not in the mood to look for you.” The door slammed shut. I watched his resolute back disappear and felt nothing stir inside me. In the past, every time we fought, I’d deliberately run away from home. I never actually went far—just hid in the neighborhood park—because I knew Daniel would always come find me. Then at some point, he stopped coming. He said, “I’m already exhausted from work. Can you give it a rest? Why can’t you be more like Olivia? She can talk cases with me, go on business trips with me. What do you do besides pick fights?” After dawn, I packed my things into a suitcase and carried a box of old belongings to the backyard. I lit a fire. The flames reflected in my eyes. Eight years, ten years—all of it was over. Daniel came back just in time to see this. He saw what was in the fire and panicked, rushing forward to pull things out with his bare hands, but it was already too late. The flames consumed everything. His eyes were red as he grabbed my arm. “Why did you burn these? Weren’t these your most precious things?” “They used to be.” I looked at him. “Not anymore.” In the fire were the nine hundred and ninety-nine paper cranes Olivia had folded for my birthday, and the bracelet she’d bought me with her very first paycheck. There were also the ninety-nine love letters Daniel had written me, and the ceramic figurines we’d made together. When love is still alive, they’re memories. When love is dead, they’re no different from garbage on the street. Daniel looked at me as if trying to read something from my face, but he got nothing. He let go of me, awkward. “Emma, you’re doing all this because you want an explanation, right?” He took a deep breath, his tone softening. “The things I did with her—they’re just things friends do. You think we wronged you, but the truth is, we never crossed any lines.” A tear slid down my face. I wasn’t trying to cry. I just thought it was so absurd. Does betrayal only count if there’s physical contact? Emotional betrayal is still betrayal. When we went to see the snow together, he photographed the scenery—then turned around and sent it to Olivia. When we went to Disneyland together, he bought a plush toy, not thinking about which one I’d like, but picking up another one and saying, “Olivia would probably love this.” His partner was right beside him. But he’d already stopped loving her. “Enough.” I wiped my tears. “You don’t need to explain. I’m leaving anyway. None of it matters anymore.” My phone screen was still lit, open to the flight booking page for Northbridge. Daniel’s eyes caught it in his peripheral vision. His tone was flat. “Business trip to Northbridge?” He paused. “When you get back, we’ll figure out the next wedding date.” He didn’t press further. I didn’t explain. I just looked at him and asked softly, “What if I don’t come back?” Daniel’s eyes were filled with exhaustion and exasperation. “Stop this. I’m tired. I’m going inside to sleep.” A moment later, I pulled my suitcase out, shut the door behind me, and sent a message to the real estate agent. “Sell the house at the price you quoted. Wire the money to my account.” The reply came quickly. “Ms. Reed, this is your marital home. Are you sure you want to sell?” I glanced back at the house. “I won’t be in Harbor City anymore. And he won’t be coming back to this house either. Sell it.”

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My grandfather was a despicable thief. He stole my grandmother’s name, her future and every word she wrote. Then fled that soot-choked West Virginia town with another woman. What happened next? He won a Pulitzer and lectured on journalistic conscience. The other woman became a bestseller on my grandmother’s words, flaunting her “artistic soul” to cameras. My grandmother, the real Eleanor Vance, remained trapped. Slandered as a whore, she died with her eyes open. Fifty years later, I sat in the Apex Media interview room. Across from me sat Victoria Croft, Columbia’s brightest journalism prodigy. I flipped her resume. My fingers locked stiff. Two names leapt off the page. One hated for life. One hunted for decades. I shut the folder and lifted my eyes. She smiled politely, waiting for me to speak. “You’re out.” … Her smile froze. “I’m sorry. What?” My voice became clearer. “You didn’t pass the interview.” The other interviewers traded glances. Mark, the deputy editor, leaned in. “Ava, she’s only twenty-two.” “National journalism gold medalist.” “Published in The New Yorker.” “She’s a talent.” “Think twice maybe?” Victoria overheard. Her back straightened, growing taller. “My mind is made up.” I pushed her resume aside. “Miss Croft, you did not pass. Please leave.” The room held its collective breath. Victoria’s composure cracked. She stood, leaning on the table. “What do you mean by this?”

I said nothing, studying her face. The eyes, the nose, the jawline. A blinding match to that old photo.  Under the table, my hands clenched.  She glared, narrowing her eyes. “Do you even know who I am?” “My grandfather’s Julian Croft, Pulitzer Lifetime Achievement winner.” “My grandmother’s Isabel Vance, celebrated National Book Award author.” “My parents were senior editors at The Washington Post. Everyone in media knows their names.” “I graduated first in my class from Columbia.” With every line, her arrogance surged. Finally, she was looking down at me. “Tell me. How am I unqualified?”

The pen name Isabel Vance belonged to the real Eleanor Vance. “Resumes are only paper.” I stared at her, voice flat. “In this industry, I value integrity and clean backgrounds. As for your family…” I paused, wrinkling her resume. “They aren’t assets here.” “You may leave now.” Victoria froze. This was perhaps the first public humiliation of her life. Her face burned crimson. “This is petty revenge!” She snatched her resume, pointing at me.  “Ava Hayes, right? Mark my words. One call from my grandfather, every media outlet will blacklist you.” She stormed out, casting one venomous glare at the door. “Ava, you—” The other interviewers tried to cut in. I raised a hand. “Move on. Bring in the next one.”

The next three candidates were all outstanding. Back in my office, I organized their profiles. Sterling, the firm’s senior partner, stormed in. “Ava, are you insane? Why reject Victoria?” “Do you know her family background?” His words flew. “Her grandfather is Julian Croft, a journalism giant.” “He holds deep, far-reaching ties to our board of directors!” “You rejected his granddaughter. Do you know the consequences?” “Send the offer. Now.” “Too late.” I locked eyes with him. “I sent her file back already.” Sterling froze. His phone rang right then. One glance at the screen drained his color. He said nothing, gripping the phone and walking out.  At the door, a lethal glare warned: you’ve crossed the line. But I felt no fear. I’d waited too long for today.

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