At the start of the new semester, my mother cut my monthly allowance from $1,200 down to $200. She didn’t even give it to me all at once. She doled it out in installments: $50 a week. Every time I requested my money, she demanded a detailed expense report, down to the last penny. She claimed it was to “cultivate the habit of thriftiness” and teach me “gratitude toward my parents.” I immediately turned around and posted a photo on Instagram. In the picture, my left arm was draped around a guy with tattoos and piercings, and my right hand held a Big Gulp from 7-Eleven. The caption read: The best men are the ones willing to spend money on me. Thirty seconds later, my mom’s FaceTime request lit up my screen. 1 “Ava, I sent your allowance. Accept it.” “Remember to eat more protein. You need to stay healthy.” I stared at the Venmo notification. $50. I froze. Fifty? For living expenses? Did she miss a zero? No, even with a zero, $500 a week would be generous, but $50 a month was impossible… wait. I texted her back immediately: “Mom, is this a mistake? Why is it only $50?” Two minutes passed. The “typing” bubble appeared and vanished several times before she finally replied: “That’s correct. Starting this month, your allowance is $200. I’ll send it once a week, $50 at a time.” “Oh, I forgot to mention. Every time you ask for the next payment, send me an Excel sheet of your spending.” “You’re alone in New York City. Your father and I can’t watch over you, so you need self-discipline. We can’t have you becoming spoiled and hedonistic.” Excuse me? Hedonistic? Me? What kind of power trip was she on now? Since freshman year, my allowance had dropped from $1,200 to $1,000, then to $800. I gritted my teeth and made it work. Oatmeal for breakfast, a salad for lunch, skipping dinner under the guise of “intermittent fasting,” and squeezing in gig work between classes. But this is NYC. The cost of living is suffocating. Even with $800, I barely bought necessities and avoided social events like the plague. Now, she slashed it to $200? $50 a week? That wasn’t budgeting. That was starvation. And she wanted me to “eat more protein”? With what money? Splitting it into four payments? She was treating me like a beggar. And the bookkeeping? It was like being a sharecropper on her plantation. I tried to reason with her. “Mom, $50 is impossible. It doesn’t even cover food.” “A sandwich at the bodega is $8. A decent meal with protein is at least $15. That’s nearly $20 a day just to exist.” “Besides food, I need necessities. Tampons, toothpaste, toilet paper, laundry detergent…” “I can’t buy new clothes every week, but I need something once a season.” “I’m not even asking for makeup, but basic skincare costs money. A moisturizer isn’t free.” “I need a social life. Sorority dues, dinners with classmates… and…” I was about to list more when her call cut me off. Her voice shrieked through the speaker: “Great, Ava. Just great. You go to the city and your heart turns wild.” “$200 a month isn’t enough? When I was in school, I had nothing! You don’t know how good you have it.” “Can’t you give us some peace? I’m trying to teach you financial responsibility. It’s a virtue!” “I am your mother. You should be grateful for whatever I give you. How dare you complain?” “And you’re there to study, not to party with trashy people. You are not allowed to go out.” Finally, she dropped the nuke: “If you talk back again, you won’t get a single cent.” Click. She hung up. I forced a smile. This was the seventh time she’d threatened to cut me off since I started college. 2 The first six times, I folded. I apologized, I groveled, I belittled myself to satisfy her need for control. I was like a dog, and the allowance was the leash she used to choke me. I was miserable, but I was too scared to break free. I had just left home. I was timid. I had this innate desire for family, believing that even if the world rejected me, my home would be my sanctuary. Now I realized: once I left home, there was no storm outside. The storm was my mother. The suffocation came from that house. I pulled out my notebook and stared at the numbers. $200 for a month in Manhattan. It was a death sentence. Just then, my roommate Chloe walked in. “Hey, wanna grab Thai food? There’s a new place on 3rd Ave.” I swallowed. A Pad Thai was $18. I couldn’t afford it. I smiled bitterly. “I’m good. I’m trying a new diet. No dinner for me.” I rubbed my stomach, ignoring its growl. Suddenly, I felt a familiar cramp. Oh no. Not now. I opened my drawer. One lone panty liner sat in the corner. The $50 I just received had already gone to the club treasurer for dues I owed. My bank account had $3.60. My tutoring money wouldn’t clear until tomorrow. I couldn’t even afford a box of tampons. I put my head on the desk, defeated. Chloe saw my face. “Ava? Did your mom cut you off again?” I sighed. “Not cut off. Just… throttled. $50 a week. I have to count every penny or I won’t make it to Friday. Begging her is so humiliating.” Last month, I spent an extra $100 on a textbook code. When I explained it to Mom, she berated me for an hour on speakerphone. She said back in her day, they copied notes by hand. She said I was too comfortable. My roommates heard everything. It was mortifying. Since then, they stopped inviting me to expensive dinners. Instead, they found “Buy One Get One” deals to include me. Especially Chloe. She was old money, beautiful, and kind. She fed me often. To save my pride, she’d ask me to organize her notes or run errands in exchange for “treating me.” When she heard the new policy—$50 a week—she slammed her hand on the desk. “What kind of mother is she? Even a stepmother in a Disney movie isn’t this cruel.” “$200 a month? In this city? You can’t even breathe for $200.” “Installments? Audits? She’s running a sweatshop, not a family.” “Ava, forget the money. Just stick with me. I’ll take care of you. I’ll pay you $3,000—no, $5,000 a month to be my assistant!” I waved my hands, grateful but refusing. She wasn’t my parent. She had no obligation to raise me. “I’ll find another gig. I’ll figure it out.” I opened my laptop to look for work. Chloe slammed it shut. Her eyes glittered. “Ava, I have a plan. Do you want to try it?” “A way to make your mom beg to give you money.” 3 “Your mom squeezes you because she knows you’re scared. You’re too obedient.” “Whatever she gives you is charity to her. A power play.” “She’s betting you can’t survive without her control.” “So, if you show her you’re out of control, she’ll panic.” I looked at Chloe, confused. “What do I do?” She winked. “Find a ‘bad boy.’ Take a picture. Post it. Caption it thanking him for his generosity.” “Not real generosity. Just… a Slurpee. Make it look like you’re falling for a deadbeat just because he bought you a $2 drink.” “Let her see that because she starves you, you’re easily bought by any guy on the street.” “I guarantee she’ll cry and beg you to break up, and the money will flow.” I was skeptical. “Will that work?” Chloe was a woman of action. She dragged me to the Art Department, found a guy with a nose ring and a spiked leather jacket, and asked him to pose. We snapped the photo. I typed the caption: The best men are the ones willing to spend money on me. I set the privacy to “Mom Only” and hit post. Five minutes later, the video call came in. I took a deep breath. “Hi, Mom.” She didn’t let me finish. She was screaming. “Ava Miller! How cheap are you? Dating behind our backs? Are you that desperate for a man?” “And look at him! He looks like a criminal! What is he wearing?” “Did we starve you? Did we deny you clothes? You’re throwing yourself at men for food? You are disgracing this family!” “I told your father you shouldn’t have gone to college. You’re just looking for trouble!” Her words were like hammer blows. I swayed, dizzy. Chloe held my hand tight, grounding me. I gathered every ounce of courage I had. “Mom, you won’t give me money to live. Naturally, someone else will. I don’t care if he has tattoos or if he’s a ‘bad guy.’ Anyone who feeds me when I’m hungry is a good person to me.” Then, I hung up. Chloe looked terrified. “Ava… I’m so sorry. That was a bad idea. I didn’t know she would say… those things.” “I thought parents would just be scared you’d get taken advantage of. My mom would have just wired me cash.” I comforted Chloe. “It’s not your fault.” Her mom wasn’t my mom. My mom didn’t care about my safety; she cared that I embarrassed her. She didn’t care why I found a “bad boy.” She just wanted to brand me as bad. I laughed bitterly. “Well, now I definitely won’t get that $50. I really might need you to keep me alive.” Just then, my cousin Sarah called. Her voice was panicked. “Ava! Check the family group chat! What is your mother doing?” 4 I opened iMessage. My blood ran cold. Mom had screenshotted my Instagram post and sent it to the extended family group. She added a paragraph of text: “Look at the wonderful daughter I raised. Worse than an animal.” “She’s boy-crazy. Goes to college just to hook up with trash.” “She’s selling herself for a Slurpee. That’s how cheap she is!” “Looking at her now, she probably started sleeping around in high school. Acting like a good girl in front of us.” “Disgusting. I don’t have a daughter anymore.” I never thought text on a screen could physically hurt. What mother curses her daughter like this? She could have asked me. Instead, she branded me a “slut” to the entire family. To punish my “disobedience,” she destroyed my reputation. The group chat exploded. Dad: “Stop talking nonsense.” Cousin Sarah: “Aunt Brenda, calm down. Ava isn’t like that. I believe her.” Aunt Karen: “Oh, girls these days. Once they leave the nest, they go wild. Just dating, right? Probably started years ago, hehe.” Uncle Mike: “Wow. Didn’t know Ava had it in her. Quiet ones are always the wildest.” Cousin Sarah: “Shut up! Do you know how damaging that is? Just because Aunt Brenda says something doesn’t make it true. You’re calling her loose based on one photo?” Aunt Karen: “Watch your mouth! This family is falling apart. Girls sleeping around, girls swearing at elders. Chaos!” Cousin Sarah: “Keep your mouth shut, Karen. Uncle Mike was buying a gold bracelet for a 20-year-old girl last weekend. Worry about your own house.” Uncle Mike: “That’s a lie! I swear!” Sarah dropped a photo into the chat. High definition. Uncle Mike, his yellow teeth grinning, arm around a young girl at a jewelry counter. Aunt Karen: “You animal! You won’t buy me a ring, but you buy that tramp gold?! I’m done!” Cousin Sarah: “Auntie, I have more pics of him with different women. $100 via Venmo and I’ll send the album. Friends and family discount.” She posted her QR code. … Sarah DM’d me a hug emoji. Don’t worry about her. Everyone knows your mom is a control freak. I got you. I felt a warm breeze in my frozen heart. Unconditional trust felt so good. To prove myself, I screenshotted my conversation with Mom about the allowance. “The photo is me, but I’m not dating him. I posted it to show Mom that her allowance is unlivable.” “$50 a week. Detailed receipts required. I work two jobs and still can’t make ends meet. I’m a student. I can’t work a third job.” “If you all think I’m greedy for wanting more than $200 a month in New York City, then I have nothing to say.” “I apologize for the joke. I shouldn’t have done it.” A second later, Dad replied. Dad: “What $200? Your mother said she sends you $2,000 a month!” Me: “?!”

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After three years of chasing Lucas, he finally agreed to date me. But everyone knew he still wasn’t over his last relationship. The first time we had a fight, I left in a fit of rage late at night. I got into a car accident and lost my memory. In the hospital room, Lucas gave me a phone number. “This is your boyfriend, Archer’s number.” I believed him. He sighed in relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted. But later, he crashed my wedding to Archer. He stubbornly gripped the hem of my wedding dress, refusing to let go: “Don’t marry him, I’m begging you.” Chapter 1 On my fifth day in the hospital. Lucas came again. Unlike previous days, today he handed me a slip of paper with a phone number. “This is your boyfriend, Archer’s number.” Lucas kept a straight face. “Before the accident, you two had a fight, and you deleted all his contact info.” “Did we break up?” If we didn’t break up, why hadn’t he come to see me after all these days in the hospital? Lucas said, “That’s between you two. I’m an outsider, I don’t know the details.” Just as I was about to speak, the door pushed open. A tall, lean figure walked in. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs. The tailored shirt and trousers outlined a physique with perfect proportions. He was literally walking pheromones. I stared blankly as he leaned in close to my face. “Heard you broke your brain?” Wait… “Who are you?” “Archer.” My feelings were complicated. I asked Lucas, “Is he really my boyfriend?” Archer paused, looking at Lucas. Lucas stared back at him intently, but spoke to me: “Yes, he is your boyfriend.” Archer narrowed his桃花 eyes (peach blossom eyes – charming eyes). A moment later, he let out a scoff. “I am, indeed, your boyfriend.” I don’t know if it was my imagination, but after Archer said that, Lucas seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “When are you being discharged?” Archer asked again. “Tomorrow.” Archer’s eyes filled with amusement. “Then I’ll come pick you up tomorrow, girlfriend.” The last word curled up at the end, carrying an endless, lingering charm. I suddenly blushed, my heart racing. “Hazel…” Turning my head, I met Lucas’s displeased gaze. I restrained my smile. “What’s wrong?” He pressed his lips together. “I’m getting engaged in a few days, I can’t pick you up tomorrow…” I nodded understandingly. “My boyfriend is here, you go busy yourself with your stuff.” Chapter 2 The next afternoon, Archer came to pick me up. He helped me pack and handled the discharge paperwork. He was outrageously considerate. He took me home—to his home. Looking at the brand-new toiletries in the bathroom, I asked puzzledly: “Why is everything new?” He answered leisurely, “The day we fought, I threw out everything related to you.” The corner of my mouth twitched. “So are you over being mad now?” He nodded, then shook his head. “What does that mean?” He lazily lifted his eyes. “You’re already like this, I have no choice but to forgive you.” I paused. “Did I start the fight?” He didn’t speak, just looked at me silently. His gaze made me feel guilty, and I didn’t dare meet his eyes. Finally, I cleared my throat and turned toward the walk-in closet. “Let’s let bygones be bygones. We’ll get along well from now on.” Opening the closet door, I discovered it was full of new clothes with tags still on. From inside out, everything was there. The entire closet was new. I tried to hold it in, but couldn’t. “Archer, why didn’t you throw yourself out too!” He looked blank. “What?” “You threw out everything I touched. I’ve touched you, why didn’t you throw yourself out?” Archer seemed to just realize what I meant. In an instant, he turned his face away unnaturally, a flush creeping up his ears. After a while, a magnificent voice came: “You haven’t touched me.” I shook my head without hesitation. “Impossible.” He was grown exactly to my aesthetic preferences. I only lost some memories, I didn’t become stupid. With such a handsome man in front of me, I couldn’t possibly sit still and be a saint. The more I thought about it, the more wrong it felt. I asked: “Archer, is it that you… can’t perform?” “What are you saying!” Archer grabbed a set of pajamas from the closet and shoved them at me. “Go wash up, I’ll make you something to eat.” He left immediately, giving me no chance to react. At night, when it was time to sleep. I waited and waited, but Archer didn’t come to bed. Walking out of the room, I found out he had already gone to sleep in the guest bedroom! When I pushed open the guest room door, he was just about to take off his pants. The moment our eyes met, he quickly pulled his pants back up and even wrapped a bathrobe around himself. Tsk. Living together and he’s still guarding against me. I walked over silently, lifted the quilt, and burrowed in. Archer was dumbfounded. “You, you, you…” I patted the spot beside me. “Come here.” He didn’t move. “Aren’t you going to sleep?” I asked. He stared at me, looking like he wanted to say something several times but stopped. “Are you scared? Or is it that you really can’t perform?” Archer finally moved. He walked to my side, wrapped me up like a burrito with lightning speed, and carried me back to the master bedroom. It wasn’t until I heard the door close that I realized my boyfriend might really have a problem. In the middle of the night, while sleeping groggily, Archer came into my room. He lifted my nightgown and did all sorts of bad things. He teased me until I was parched but refused to give me relief. I cried out in anger, “Archer, I’m breaking up with you! I’m finding a man who’s better and more capable than you!” He bit me fiercely. “You dare!” “Hmph, watch me! Get off!” I kicked out, but kicked empty air. The huge movement woke me up. Looking around, it was broad daylight. It turned out to be just a dream. Outside the door, Archer was knocking. “Get up for breakfast.” Ten minutes later, I sat at the dining table. He had buttoned his shirt all the way to the top button. Looking serious like an old veteran cadre. Clearly, the last two times I saw him, he didn’t button up properly, and I could faintly see the pectoral muscles under his shirt. The more I thought about it, the more unwilling I was. “Archer, how about I make you an appointment with a urologist?” Archer suddenly started coughing violently, unable to stop for a long time. I handed him a glass of water and said slowly: “Don’t worry, as long as you can be cured, I won’t despise you.” Archer coughed until he could barely breathe. I quickly patted his back and gave him water. After bustling for a while, he finally stopped. “I am very healthy.” Before I could question his words, he added, “Today is Lucas’s engagement party. Come with me.” Chapter 3 We arrived a bit late to the engagement party. Archer insisted I dress to the nines. I really shouldn’t have listened to him. As soon as we appeared, almost everyone’s eyes fell on me. I was a bit uneasy. “Archer, why are they all looking at me?” Archer curved his lips. “Because you’re beautiful.” I wasn’t used to such occasions and excused myself to the restroom. As soon as I entered a stall, voices sounded outside. “I can’t believe Archer actually brought Hazel here. Isn’t this blatantly embarrassing Lucas?” “It was supposed to be Hazel and Lucas’s engagement party. Who knows what kind of scene she’ll make when she gets her memory back.” “What can she do? Lucas doesn’t love her, otherwise he wouldn’t have temporarily changed his fiancée.” “Blame Hazel’s bad luck. Getting a head injury at this critical moment gave Chloe a chance.” “But why is Archer with Hazel? They’ve been enemies since childhood. Now that she has amnesia, they’re together?” “Who knows, maybe Archer is just playing with her.” “I guess so. Archer once said he wouldn’t marry Hazel even if she was the last woman on earth.” “Alright, stop talking. Walls have ears.” Silence fell outside. I stayed in the restroom for a long time. When I came out, I saw Lucas. His eyes were deep. “You just got out of the hospital, why didn’t you rest at home for a couple more days?” “Thanks for the concern, I’m fine.” I tried to walk around him, but he blocked my path. “Hazel, did you hear anything today?” “You mean about Archer and me being enemies? Enemies can bury the hatchet. Besides, I like him quite a bit now.” “You don’t like Archer.” I was puzzled. “You’re not me, how do you know I don’t like him?” Lucas realized he misspoke and tried to recover: “That’s not what I meant, it’s because… before you lost your memory, you told me you didn’t like him anymore.” “Hazel.” Lucas’s brow showed a hint of coldness. “You can’t remember the past now. As a friend, I suggest you take this opportunity to break up with Archer.” Just as his voice fell, a scoff came from the shadows nearby. “Lucas, that’s not very nice of you.” Archer stepped out of the dark, his long legs bringing him to my side in two strides. “Haven’t you heard it’s better to tear down a temple than ruin a marriage?” Lucas: “You’re not married yet.” Archer took my hand. “Sooner or later.” He checked the time. “We have other things to do, we have to go. Oh right, happy engagement. May you be together forever.” With that, he pulled me away quickly. In the car, buckled up. Archer said, “I’m taking you for a ride.” He just went. Floored the gas pedal onto the highway. I was tense all over, clutching the seatbelt, not daring to make a sound. I should have known better than to get in his car. Yet Archer didn’t realize his problem, relaxed as if he were riding a bike in his backyard. The car sped on the highway for an hour, finally slowing down and stopping on a beach. I quickly pushed the door open and got out, gasping for air. Archer walked to my side, smiling. “Carsick? Shouldn’t be.” I ignored him. He took two cans of beer from the trunk, sat on the sand, and waved at me. I couldn’t believe it. “You raced here just to drink?” “Alcohol adds to the fun, didn’t you know?” After a moment of silence, I sat next to him. Just as I reached for a beer, he snatched it away. “You just got out of the hospital, you can’t drink. I’ll drink it for you.” Chapter 4 The consequence of letting Archer drink was that I had to drive for two hours like I was facing a formidable enemy. Archer seemed to have drunk too much, stumbling when he got out of the car. Out of pity, I went up to support him. Entering the elevator, Archer extended his long arm and clasped my waist. That captivating face was inches away, adding a bit of charm due to the drunkenness. I inexplicably swallowed. Unexpectedly, Archer caught it all. “Look good?” His rich voice carried a hint of tenderness. I looked away and pushed him. He remained motionless. When the elevator door opened, he suddenly bent down, picked me up bridal style, and headed straight for the master bedroom. I was startled. “Archer, what are you doing?” He put me on the bed, supporting himself with hands on either side of me. “Date, drink, sleep. Can’t miss one.” My mouth twitched fiercely. I kicked his calf. “Go shower first.” He got up and scooped me up along with him. “Together.” Just as we reached the bathroom door, my phone rang. I patted him. “Put me down.” Archer was unmoved. “Calls at this hour aren’t worth answering.” Inside the bathroom, he placed me on the vanity counter and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. The phone ringing outside stopped abruptly. A few seconds later, Archer’s phone rang. He took the phone from his pocket, hit answer and speaker, and set it aside. “What’s up?” Only the sound of our breathing filled the spacious bathroom. I could hear Lucas’s voice clearly. “Where did you take her?” Archer unbuttoned the last two buttons of his shirt while saying, “Couple stuff. Mind your own business.” Taking off the shirt removed the obstacle, revealing defined abs. I couldn’t resist and put my hand on them. But just as I touched his chest, he caught my hand. The man’s voice was low: “Don’t rush, wait until I finish the call.” As soon as he finished speaking, Lucas’s furious voice came from the phone: “What are you doing!” He ignored Lucas, looking at me, smiling like a rogue. “Want to verify if I can perform or not?” I subconsciously gripped the hem of my dress. “Then you…” “No! You can’t! Hazel, come out, I’m coming to pick you up right now, you can’t be with him…” The voice cut off. Archer hung up the phone. I was a bit puzzled. “Lucas seems very opposed to me being with you?” “Because he’s jealous I have such a beautiful girlfriend.” He slowly leaned in, warm breath spraying on my face, tickling. I instinctively dodged to the side. Unexpectedly, big hands turned my face straight, and an overwhelming kiss fell. He had absolutely no technique to speak of. Even so, my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. I don’t know how long it passed, until I could barely breathe, the doorbell rang. Archer let go of me, his black eyes tainted with emotions I couldn’t read. My dress had been pushed up to my waist at some point, the ironed fabric now wrinkled beyond recognition. I gave him a ghostly glare. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he was about to kiss me again. Just then, the knocking outside was deafening. There was a stance of not giving up until the door opened. Archer was displeased, but he pulled my dress down. “I’ll go check.” I heard Lucas’s voice. But it wasn’t convenient for me to go out looking like this, so I waited quietly for Archer to come get me. Not long after, Archer returned. He said, “I’m going out for a bit. Wait here for me like a good girl.”

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My wife, Chloe, died in an earthquake while vacationing with her lover. When the rescuers dug her out of the rubble, her body was already cold and stiff. She was found tightly shielding the man beneath her. It took significant effort to separate them. Everyone was marveling at this “epic, tragic love story”—until they contacted me, her husband. When I arrived, I saw Chloe’s body covered in a white sheet, and her spirit standing right next to it. Chapter 1 From seeing Chloe’s crushed body to sending her into the crematorium, only a few hours passed. The first burn didn’t completely disintegrate everything. I refused the staff’s suggestion for a second round. Why waste the money? I picked the cheapest urn available. Chloe’s ghost was screaming at me the entire time. Her vocabulary was so limited, it was pathetic. I ignored her like background noise. Watching Chloe being pushed into the incinerator, I beamed with a bright smile. “Chloe, oh Chloe. Look at the karma. The day after your lover, Julian, woke up, he was already laughing and hugging another woman. I bet he didn’t even visit his savior.” Hearing this, she froze, then flew into a rage. “Mason! Stop slandering him! Julian is kind! He’s not a liar like you!” Chloe’s face was twisted and hideous. Oh well. Julian really hadn’t come to see her. Chloe’s screaming gave me a headache. Suddenly, I felt even the cheapest urn was too good for her. I spent a dollar on a takeout box from a nearby restaurant. The box was a bit small. After a moment’s thought, I decided to let Chloe shine one last time. I dumped the excess ashes into a roadside flowerbed. Tossing the takeout box into the trunk, I drove home. Although my best friend was watching my daughter, I was still worried. Chloe couldn’t stray too far from me. In fact, she could only leave the morgue because I had arrived. She curled up in the back seat like she was dodging a plague. “Psycho,” I muttered. Chapter 2 I parked and walked toward the house, but saw a man in casual clothes pacing at my door. It was Julian. This was a well-known wealthy neighborhood. Security was top-notch. Average people couldn’t just walk in. I subconsciously looked at Chloe. She was just staring blankly ahead, murmuring, “Julian, did you come for me?” In that moment, it felt like someone shoved a fly in my mouth. I looked at the community’s green belt. It looked like it needed some fertilizer too. Chapter 3 “What are you doing here?” Julian jumped, startled. Unnaturalness was written all over his face. “Mr. Carter… I… I came to find Chloe.” I shook the takeout box containing half of Chloe at him. “You mean this?” Tears instantly welled up in Julian’s eyes. “Is this Chloe? How could it be? I woke up and didn’t see her… I thought she left me.” Terrible acting. But someone ate it up. Chloe was soft-hearted to a fault. She lunged forward, trying to wipe Julian’s tears, but her hands passed through him. “Julian, don’t cry. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have doubted you. It’s all this evil man’s fault, he’s trying to drive a wedge between us!” A ghost and a human in love. What a moving scene. Too bad one was acting, and the other was a fool. Two idiots. “If you didn’t see her, couldn’t you look? You have legs, don’t you? Or a mouth to ask? Do you need me to draw you a map? Oops, said the quiet part out loud. Sorry.” The crying stopped abruptly. Julian looked at me. “Mr. Carter, I know you’re angry, that’s why you’re saying these things. I don’t blame you. I know you don’t love Chloe, and she would only be miserable with you. Please, give me her ashes.” Seriously? Is he mentally ill? I didn’t want to engage in mental gymnastics with him. “Julian, get this straight. Whose wife was Chloe? Now leave. I’m going home.” Julian grabbed me anxiously. In the struggle, I lost my grip. The takeout box hit the ground. Good news: the box didn’t break. Better news: the ashes spilled. I immediately called the police. Someone was trying to rob me. Seeing me call the cops, Chloe shielded Julian like a hero, cursing me. “You rotten, heartless bastard! You’ll get your karma!” Heh. Who’s scared?

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After my wealthy family finally found me, their adopted son—the fake heir—ran out crying and was hit by a car, breaking both his legs. Then, the family suddenly went bankrupt. To pay off debts, my biological father worked construction and fell, ending up in a vegetative state. My mother, unable to handle the shock, nearly died of a heart attack. Everyone said I was cursed, that I brought misfortune to the family. But my sister held my hand firmly and said: “Leo, I believe none of this is your fault. Let’s work together to carry this family, okay?” Touched beyond words, I worked countless jobs, exhausted like a dog. Three years later, I rushed to the hospital clutching thirty thousand dollars for medical bills, only to see my supposedly vegetative father sitting up in bed. “Serena, the three-year test is almost over. Do we still need Leo’s thirty grand today?” My sister laughed. “Of course we do. Why wouldn’t we?” “The motorcycle I bought for Caleb cost exactly thirty thousand. Consider it Leo’s apology gift.” Caleb, who should have been wheelchair-bound, stood up and hugged her. “I love you the most, sis!” My mother looked a bit worried. “But where did Leo get so much money? A test is a test, but we shouldn’t force him down a dark path!” “Don’t worry, Mom. Leo has Rh-negative blood, it’s worth a lot. My people saw him going to sell plasma. Once he passes the final test, I’ll tell him the family secured an investment.” I clutched the bank card, my hand instinctively covering the agonizing pain in my lower back. How could selling plasma possibly earn thirty thousand dollars? That money came from selling my kidney. But my sacrifice, risking my life, was just a test of familial loyalty! If that’s the case, I’ll just leave. … Chapter 1 Through the glass of the hospital room, I watched the family laughing and chatting happily. My heart felt like it was being carved by a knife. I covered my mouth with my hand, holding my phone up, trying to stifle my sobs. It was all a lie! My sister, who said she believed in me, was torturing me to vent anger for the fake heir. Even my biological parents played along with their misery, forcing me into the life of a stray dog. Memories of the past three years’ suffering flooded back like a tide. Only now did I realize the many plot holes. I had been too exhausted from the grind to even think. Through my tears, I saw a familiar figure stepping out of the elevator. It was Mr. Lewis, Dad’s former subordinate and current “debt collector.” I put away my phone and hid in the stairwell, watching him lead two bodyguards into Dad’s room. His fawning voice drifted out. “Mr. Vance, you truly have foresight! Pretending to go bankrupt to test the young master—only this way can you guarantee he isn’t just after the Vance family fortune.” “I heard the day you pretended to become a vegetable, the young master knelt by your bed and cried for a day and a night. Such a filial son!” Mom laughed too. “Yes, for three years I scolded him terribly, yet he still recognizes me as his mother. He is indeed filial.” My sister’s voice was cold. “He hasn’t passed Caleb’s and my test yet. Who knows if he’s scheming deep down?” Dad nodded. “Correct. To truly be Edward Vance’s son, he must pass the whole family’s test!” “Understood, Mr. Vance. I’ll play my part well…” My nails dug deep into my flesh. My heart was filled with agony. So that’s it. For three years, Dad’s test was to see if I was greedy. Mom’s test was to see if I would remain filial despite her coldness. And now, my sister’s test is to see if I’m willing to risk my life to pay off debts for the family. But I don’t want to play this role anymore. I don’t want this family anymore. Just as I turned to leave, Caleb spotted me outside the door. He flashed a provocative smile at me, then clutched his leg and collapsed back into the wheelchair, crying out in pain. “Since my brother caused me to almost become crippled, can I ask him to kowtow and apologize to me?” “Of course! He was the one who agitated you into that car accident. He owes you this!” Hearing the family spoiling him, I felt dead inside and prepared to leave. The next second, the door opened, and my sister saw me standing by the elevator. After a moment of shock, she immediately put on an anxious face and pulled me over. “Leo, you’re finally here! Mr. Lewis is inside demanding payment, come quick!” The moment she dragged me into the room, Mom was holding Caleb, weeping. Dad, who was just bossing people around, was back in bed with his oxygen mask on. My sister pulled me down, bowing and pleading humbly: “Uncle Lewis, for the sake of my dad, can we just pay thirty thousand in interest today? Once I get the investment, we’ll pay the rest…” Mr. Lewis looked at us with disdain. “Thirty thousand? You think I’m a beggar? Your dad is like this now, his ‘face’ isn’t worth a dime!” With a wave of his hand, the two bodyguards started smashing things. Mom cried her heart out. My sister gritted her teeth and pulled me to kneel with her. “Please, just give us a few more days! Before the end of the month, we will definitely pay it back!” “Besides, the doctor said my dad might wake up. You don’t want to burn bridges, do you?!” Pleading mixed with threats finally made Mr. Lewis relent. “Fine. Give me the thirty thousand now. If you don’t have the rest by next month, don’t blame me for getting nasty!” I gripped the bank card tightly. This was the money I exchanged half my life and a kidney for. My sister noticed my hesitation and hugged me, persuading: “Good brother, you’ve worked hard these three years.” “My deal is about to go through. Once we cure Dad, our family will get better and better!” Mom also knelt down towards me with a thud. “Son, Mom was wrong to blame you before. You aren’t a jinx, you’re the lucky star who can save our family!” Since Caleb broke his legs and Dad had his accident three years ago, Mom had hated me. She called me a jinx who almost killed her husband and son, never giving me a kind look. If this were before, hearing her call me “son” and seeing her weep like this… I really would have given my life for her. But now, I knew she was acting. Just to test if I would part with the money. I looked up at the ceiling, fighting back the surging tears. Mom, you gave me my life. Is it worth just thirty thousand dollars? If you think I owe you, I’ll pay you back. I helped her up and handed over the card. After Mr. Lewis took the money, he pointed at Caleb in the wheelchair dissatisfiedly. “The whole family knelt to me, why didn’t this brat kneel? Does he look down on me?” Caleb’s eyes reddened. My sister quickly apologized, but Mr. Lewis wouldn’t let it go. “This brat needs to kowtow three times loudly for this to be over! Otherwise, I’m kicking your whole family out of the hospital today!” Mom and my sister immediately pressed me down, forcing my head against the floor heavily. “Sorry, Mr. Lewis. Caleb is disabled, let his brother do it for him!” My forehead slammed against the cold tiles. Humiliating blood mixed with tears blurred my vision. Caleb sat in his wheelchair, looking down at me with triumphant eyes. From an angle no one else could see, he mouthed slowly: “You can’t beat me.” I scrambled up, wanting to flee, but the world spun. Blackness took over, and I passed out completely. In my stupor, I heard my sister and Mom screaming for a doctor. When I woke up again, it was the next day. I found myself lying in our dilapidated shack. My sister and Mom’s voices drifted in. “Sigh, did we go too far?” “Three years, letting Leo live in this dump… the doctor just said he fainted from long-term malnutrition and excessive blood loss. Sigh! We should have stopped him from selling plasma…” My sister interrupted Mom. “If it’s a test, how can it be easy? Three years ago, if his ambition hadn’t agitated Caleb into that accident, we wouldn’t have seen his true colors!” “Consider this his atonement to Caleb, and a way to prove himself! Once he passes Caleb’s test in three days, he’ll be the young master of the Vance family forever, enjoying endless wealth!” Mom still hesitated. “But the doctor said he needs a full checkup. Isn’t it dangerous to bring him back here like this?” “It’s just malnutrition and blood loss, what danger could there be? Some iron supplements and he’ll be fine. Keeping him in the hospital might make him suspicious. Where would we get the money to pay for his stay?” “Sigh, true.” They stood up and walked out the door. I slowly opened my eyes, looking at the rotting roof, my heart in agony. If they had just agreed to the checkup, they would have found out my blood loss wasn’t from selling plasma. It was because I was missing a kidney. A week ago, my sister cried to me that if we didn’t have thirty thousand dollars, Dad would be kicked out of the hospital. At my wit’s end, I saw a shady flyer on the street corner advertising plasma donation. I thought my Rh-negative blood would fetch a good price, but those black-market doctors were heartless. They said only a kidney would get that kind of money. When my sister called crying again, I walked into that back-alley clinic without hesitation. For seven days, I hid in a motel clutching my wound, lying that I was working out of town. I intended to keep my sister from worrying, but I never expected… She knew exactly what I went to do! But why did she lie to Mom and Dad, saying I only sold plasma? Sister, do you hate me that much for Caleb’s sake? Creating a situation where I had to carve out a kidney to atone. So in your eyes, I was never worthy of being your brother, more like an enemy, right? Even though you were the one who held my hand and said we were family, that we would carry this burden together! The pain in my heart far exceeded the physical pain. Through blurry eyes, I saw a bottle of iron pills on the bedside table, and my sister’s phone. I picked it up and tried her birthday as the passcode. It unlocked. [Leo is going to the hospital today, hurry back and get ready.] In the chat with Mom and Dad, my sister constantly reminded them. [Sis, today is my birthday. Will you come celebrate with me? Or do you have to be with him?] In the chat with Caleb, she coaxed him gently. [I haven’t forgotten. Three years ago on your birthday, he almost caused you to be disabled. Of course I’ll be with you!] Trembling, I opened my sister’s social media. That’s when I realized. She had posted so many updates that were hidden from me. Photo after photo of her and our parents with Caleb, looking happy and blessed in a villa. For the past three years, I was the only one working myself to death. They were living the good life in a mansion. I fought back the tears and took photos of these posts and chats with my own phone. Then I put her phone back. Staring blankly at the ceiling, my mind flashed back to my sister holding my calloused hands, tears streaming down her face. The way she knelt for me when Mom kicked us out of the hospital room. She said, “Leo, you are my biological brother. I believe in you. One day Mom will accept you. Hang in there.” For three years, I lived alone in this converted boat shack, freezing and starving. Last winter, when I had a high fever, I video-called her. The moment she accidentally accepted, I saw what looked like a luxury villa background. Then, she panicked and hung up, texting me impatiently: “I’m discussing a partnership at my boss’s house. Don’t disturb me.” For three whole years, she and the family enjoyed life in a villa while I suffered alone. Only when dealing with me would they return to the hospital to act. It was laughable that I scavenged scraps other fishermen didn’t want just to buy her a thick quilt. Turns out she never needed it. My familial love was wasted. I opened my phone to buy a ticket, only to find I had $6.90 left in my account. That was my food money for the next three days. Is their punishment to strip me of even the freedom to leave? Mocking myself, I dialed that number. “Do you still buy blood? I need money urgently. Okay, three days from now.” Three days later was exactly the end of the month my sister planned for. It was also the day of their final test for me. Using three days to say goodbye to three years of fake family was enough. My sister lifted the curtain and entered, her face changing when she heard my words. “What are you doing in three days?” I hung up and forced a bitter smile. “Did you forget what day it is in three days, sis?” She slapped her forehead, remembering. “Right! It’s your birthday! After three years, I can finally celebrate it with you.” “Leo, once I secure the investment, what birthday gift do you want? I’ll get you anything!” Mom also came in smiling. “Yes, you’ve worked hard these three years. Mom needs to make it up to you too.” My heart felt bitter. “I haven’t thought of it yet. I’ll tell you on my birthday, okay?” My sister and Mom exchanged smiles and agreed readily. Just as they were about to say more, my sister’s phone rang. She picked it up, glanced at it, and her face changed. “Caleb says Dad isn’t doing well. Mom, we have to go back immediately!” Before, I would have insisted on going with them. But now, I knew it was just an excuse to get away from me. I obediently stayed in the shack, watching them leave. As I was about to pack, a message popped up on my phone. [Leo, you heard everything at the hospital yesterday, right?] [The whole family believes me. They tortured you for three years for me.] [You didn’t seem very willing when you kowtowed to me yesterday… Since that’s the case, my test for you in three days won’t be so simple.] [With me here, don’t think about returning to the Vance family as the young master. Got it? If you’re smart, get lost now. Being kicked out by the whole family later will be much uglier!] … Each sentence pierced my heart like a dagger. So the final test was set by Caleb? No wonder he was confident I would fail. Ultimately, Mom, Dad, and Serena treated him as their real family. I, the outsider who couldn’t fit in, should leave. I dialed that number again. I wanted to ask if he could buy my blood two days early. I really needed the money. “Earliest is three days! Besides, it hasn’t even been half a month since you sold your kidney. Are you trying to die? “Forget it, forget it. I won’t take your blood in three days, I’ll just give you an extra thousand bucks. You scare me!” Touching the dull ache in my lower back, I smiled bitterly. Why wouldn’t I fear death? For three years, my family played me like a fool. I desperately wanted to leave them and live for myself. Is fate toying with me? Even leaving has to wait three days. Fine. I also wanted to see how far the family would go for Caleb, the fake heir, in three days. The next day, my sister called saying she had to accompany Caleb to rehab and wouldn’t be back. Half an hour later, Caleb sent me a photo. In the picture, Mom, Dad, and Serena were enjoying a feast with him in a luxurious villa. A huge family portrait hung on the wall, missing only me. Looking at the photo, my eyes stung. Their home never included me. When the clock struck midnight, I sat blankly on the beach in front of the shack, looking up at the stars. Caleb sent another video. The family was singing Happy Birthday to him. Serena gave him motorcycle keys, Dad gave him 5% of the company shares, and Mom personally designed a diamond-encrusted tuxedo for him. And I only received dry “Happy Birthday” texts from Mom and Serena. “Serena, what do you think Leo is doing right now?” “What else? Probably crying tears of gratitude over our text messages!” The conversation stabbed my heart. Yes. If I didn’t know the truth, I would definitely be moved to tears by those two texts. Mom finally said Happy Birthday to me personally. The cold sea wind stung my eyes. I silently saved the video Caleb sent. Along with the video I recorded outside the hospital room and the chat logs, I set two scheduled messages. One to Serena. The other to social media. Serena, by this time tomorrow, I’ll be gone. I hope you and Mom and Dad like my final gift. As dawn broke, I dragged my luggage to find the blood broker. I thought I could get the money and leave, but he looked behind me and smiled sinisterly. “I said I wouldn’t take your blood, but someone else wants to.” Shocked, I turned to see Mom and Serena rushing toward me. “Leo, quick, give blood to your brother! Only you can save him!” They dragged me to the hospital, where I saw Caleb lying pale on a bed. I instantly understood. This was their final test. But with my current condition, if this goes wrong, I will really die! “I can’t give blood right now…” Before I finished, Mom’s face changed. “Great! I knew you wanted your brother dead, didn’t you!” Just like how she accused me for three years. Serena looked disappointed and urgent. “Leo, lives are at stake, stop being willful!” “I know you don’t like him, but he’s family we raised for twenty years! Can you bear to see him suffer?” Face pale, I looked at them sincerely. “Mom, Serena. Three years ago, I didn’t say anything to make Caleb leave. I never wanted him dead. You have to believe me.” “We believe you! As long as you give him blood, we believe you!” Looking at Serena’s eager gaze and Mom’s displeasure and suspicion. I resigned myself to the bed, letting the doctor insert the needle into my arm. “If this makes you believe me, then my life… doesn’t matter.” Mom scolded, “Stop talking nonsense! It’s just a little blood, it won’t kill you!” The moment the blood was drawn, breathing became difficult, and my vision darkened. Serena whispered to the eyes-closed Caleb, “How about it? Did he pass?” Caleb lay still, no reaction. Mom said unhappily, “It’s only been a little bit, what’s the rush?” It wasn’t until the doctor drew a full bag that I completely passed out. Serena noticed something wrong first. “Leo? Good brother, it’s done. You can open your eyes now. Sister has good news for you!” But no matter how she called, I didn’t react. “Doctor! My brother’s hand is so cold, come look!” Caleb sat up in bed, looking aggrieved. “Sis, is Leo ignoring us on purpose because he didn’t want to give me blood?” Mom sneered. “He’s definitely just trying to scare us because we forced him. Leo, stop acting and get up!” The doctor checked my eyelids and pulse, turning pale with shock. “Not good! The young master has no pulse or heartbeat!” Serena and Mom froze. Only Caleb’s eyes flashed with triumph. The curtain was thrown open, and Dad, who had been hiding, couldn’t hold back anymore and rushed out. “Didn’t we agree to tell him I woke up once he passed? Why is it like this!” “Doctor, save my son!” The doctor quickly ordered the nurse to lift my shirt for defibrillation. The next second, he stared at my body in horror. “The young master lost so much blood because he had a kidney removed! With his constitution, how could he handle this?!” My parents and sister stood frozen. “How… it was just selling plasma. How could he have a kidney taken…” Serena’s face was white as she mumbled to herself. At that moment, her phone rang. She picked it up in a panic. One look, and she collapsed to the floor. “It’s from Leo. Mom, Dad! He heard what we said in the hospital room that day!” “He knew we were testing him all along!” My parents’ faces changed drastically. Dad threw himself on me, holding my hand. “Son, Dad was wrong. Dad shouldn’t have listened to them to test you. Don’t scare Dad, wake up, okay? Dad promises, no more suffering. Dad will make you the most pampered young master of the Vance family!” But no matter how he screamed, I showed no sign of waking. Seeing the defibrillator failing, the doctor ordered oxygen and a blood transfusion. But I have Rh-negative blood. The hospital had no stock. Ordering it would be too late. Dad looked up, staring coldly at Caleb on the bed. “If it weren’t for your idea of a test, Leo wouldn’t be like this. Did you want him to die so you could be the sole heir?” Dad, a veteran businessman, finally realized this adopted son wasn’t as simple as he seemed. Caleb turned pale and threw himself into Mom’s arms, crying. “Mom! I didn’t! I asked you and Serena when I thought of this. You said he drank imported supplements for days, so one bag of blood would be fine.” “Three years ago, if Dad and Serena hadn’t done everything to get panda blood for me, I would have died! Can’t we take one bag from him today? If I really hated him, why would I come up with such an easy test?” Mom hugged him and yelled at Dad. “Caleb is the child we raised for twenty years. He’s so kind, how could he be like you say! Besides, he didn’t know Leo lost a kidney! How can you blame him?” Dad was speechless, only gripping my hand tighter, urging the doctor. Caleb sensibly rolled up his sleeve to offer blood. Serena was still scrolling through her phone frantically. She seemed to see something, her eyes filling with rage. She stood up and slapped Caleb. “Serena, why did you hit your brother!” Mom gasped. “Scum like him deserves to be my brother?” Serena shoved the phone screen into our parents’ faces. They clearly saw the video Caleb sent to provoke me, and his gloating threats telling me to leave. In that moment, Dad finally exploded. “Caleb Vance, you are just an adopted son. You dare dream of replacing my own flesh and blood? You better pray my son is okay, or I will make your death very ugly.” Mom also looked at Caleb with disappointment. “Caleb, you had twenty years of love that belonged to your brother. Why weren’t you satisfied? Why did you provoke him like that?” Caleb cried that he was wrong, that he only wanted to get back at me verbally for the accident three years ago. “Mom, Dad, I didn’t really want to kill him! Take my blood. If it saves him, I’m willing to die! Consider it atonement for my immaturity!” Mom sighed. “You’re still childish.” Dad snorted and said nothing more. The doctor sweated profusely as he transfused blood into me. Finally, the monitor beeped. I started breathing again. “The patient’s will to live is very low. He shouldn’t be stimulated. We should all go out.” Under his persuasion, the family left. As soon as the door opened, Mr. Lewis stumbled over. “Chairman, it’s bad! The internet is attacking our company. Look!” Dad’s relief vanished. He checked his phone and saw tons of missed calls and messages. Online was the post I made. The video of him, the family, and Mr. Lewis plotting the test. The audio of Mom and Dad acting with Caleb to force me to kowtow. The records of my remittances from three years of hard labor. And the chat logs of the family enjoying the villa with Caleb while he taunted me. The most shocking part was an audio recording. “Your panda blood is valuable, but to get thirty thousand, we’d have to drain you dry. Are you not afraid of death?” “But there is another way. Sell a kidney. Exactly thirty thousand. Think about it.” In my hesitation, Serena’s voice message played. “Leo, they said if we don’t pay the interest, they’ll kick Dad out. He’ll die!” I hung up and said firmly, “Okay, I’ll sell a kidney.” Public opinion exploded. 【Are these parents or demons? To test their own son, they made him sell a kidney?!】 【The Vance family is evil. Torturing their bio-son for an adoptee, making him kowtow. I can’t take it!】 【Living in a mansion with the adoptee while the real son rots in a shack for three years. Wow.】 【Can his mom just die? She doesn’t deserve to be a mother…】 Seeing this comment, Mom clutched her chest and collapsed. Serena supported her, face pale, muttering: “How… how did Leo go from selling blood to selling a kidney?” Dad kicked her, furious. “It’s all your fault! Coming up with such a radical test, causing my son to sell a kidney! I don’t have such a vicious daughter!” Serena seemed to realize something. She tried to contact the subordinate who guided me. The number was disconnected. “He was my man. He said he saw Leo sell blood. How could this happen…” Serena realized the subordinate was compromised. She remembered seeing him at the hospital that morning. He hadn’t gone far! She immediately ordered people to guard the airport and stations to bring him back. Dad ordered Mr. Lewis to handle PR at any cost. They would claim the video was staged by Caleb, and the audio was guided by him. They would issue an apology letter to me, admitting their mistake. That was the best solution. But Dad underestimated the netizens’ rage. Someone dug up my attempt to leave after learning the truth. The photo showed the luggage I left behind when Serena and Mom intercepted me. Inside was a new floral quilt, a shell necklace, and a worn diary. The diary was full of gratitude to Serena for believing I wasn’t a jinx and willing to support the family with me: 【I’m used to hardship, but Serena isn’t. She’ll get cold in this shack. I scavenged for half a month to buy this quilt. I hope she likes it.】 【I have a fever. I wanted to call Serena, but I saw her in a warm villa doing business. Good. She doesn’t have to freeze with me…】 【Serena said she’s getting a big investment. Dad’s debt will be paid, and he’ll get better. Great!】 【Mom finally acknowledged my effort and let me see Dad. I’ll work harder so she accepts me!】 …

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To save my husband who was dying of cancer, I agreed to a system’s mission. Three years later, I returned from the other world. My husband and mother-in-law wept with joy, surrounding me with warmth and concern. The system asked if I wanted to close the portal to the other world. After all, I had died there due to complications in childbirth, and it worried about my mental state, offering me a rare chance to take one last look. Just as I was about to confirm closing it, I walked into my house and heard my mother-in-law’s voice: “Chloe, in my heart, you are the true mistress of this house.” “Who knows how many green hats she put on my son during those years away.” A woman with red eyes rushed out of the room, locking eyes with me. Seeing her features so similar to mine, and my husband’s unnatural expression… I called out to the system: “Wait. Don’t close it yet.” Chapter 1 The temperature in the hallway plummeted. “Ava, why aren’t you coming in—” The elevator door pinged open. Caleb’s words choked in his throat. “Chloe, please don’t leave.” My mother-in-law, who had rushed out, froze. Upon realizing what was happening, she immediately shielded the woman, assuming a protective stance. “Ava, this is Chloe. She’s my goddaughter.” “Don’t misunderstand, Chloe and I were fellow patients.” “My mom felt bad she was fighting cancer alone, so they supported each other,” Caleb quickly explained, avoiding my gaze. My mother-in-law laughed awkwardly and chimed in: “Yes, yes. Whenever I see Chloe, I think of our Ava.” “Thank goodness we beat cancer, and Ava woke up. God bless us.” At the mention of the past, Chloe Miller’s eyes reddened further, and she began to wipe away tears, sobbing. Caleb instinctively took a step forward, concern in his eyes. The smile on my lips stiffened. Ten years in the other world equaled three years here. The obsession with curing Caleb and reuniting with my family supported me through a decade of isolation and countless breakdowns. Finally, I succeeded in the mission and woke up from my vegetative state. Just moments ago on the video call, my mother-in-law was weeping with joy, saying how good it was that I was back. I forced a smile and naturally went to check the shoe cabinet. A cabinet full of women’s shoes that weren’t mine made my breath hitch. My hand paused. I randomly picked a pair of slippers that looked unworn. Chloe spoke softly: “Ava, those were a gift from my friend. I haven’t worn them yet.” My hand froze. Caleb quickly grabbed a pair of disposable slippers for me. “Where’s Leo?” I changed the subject, asking about my son. When I left, Leo was only a few months old. That tiny bundle nestled in my arms, reaching out chubby little hands to touch my face, babbling “Mama.” My longing for him had grown wild. I couldn’t wait to see him. But when I glanced at the wedding photo in the center of the living room, I felt like I had fallen into an ice cave. It wasn’t the photo Caleb and I took back then. Although the setting, attire, and even the poses were identical. Looking closely, the woman wasn’t me, and Caleb wasn’t his younger self. Clearly, it was a new photo of Chloe and Caleb. I looked back at Caleb. He was frantically signaling something to his mother, his eyes full of blame. The air in the room became alien. I clenched my hands, opening my mouth to speak. Suddenly, a child rushed out of the bedroom. He ran past me, straight into Chloe’s arms. “Mommy! I want milk!” He nuzzled Chloe’s face, acting spoiled. That was Leo! My child! Tears uncontrollably welled up, blurring my vision. Instinctively, I stepped forward, voice trembling: “Leo… do you remember me? I’m Mommy…” Leo looked up. His guarded and alert gaze pricked my heart like a needle. His childish voice pushed me further into the abyss. “Who are you? You’re not my mommy.” “I have a mommy. My mommy is right here.” Chapter 2 Leo clutched Chloe’s sleeve, looking at me like I was a formidable enemy. I stood there, stunned, looking up in disbelief. But both my mother-in-law and Caleb tacitly avoided my gaze. Mechanically, I looked around. The living room sofa had been replaced with a color I hated most. The plants I hand-raised on the balcony were gone, replaced by a fishing chair. This house, once my marital home with Caleb, now housed my mother-in-law and another woman. There was no trace of me left. Seeing my bewildered panic, Caleb couldn’t bear it. He pulled me over to comfort me: “Ava, so much has happened these years. I’ll explain it slowly.” “Leo was so young when you left. How much did you expect him to remember?” He turned to his mother: “Mom, you and Chloe take Leo out to play for a bit.” Leo, sensing something was wrong, fussed a little, but Chloe coaxed him, and he obediently went to put on his shoes. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to glare at me: “When I come back, you better not be in my house!” The small child slammed the door with a deafening bang. My heart trembled violently, endless grief spreading. “Ava, Leo was too young then, crying for his mom.” “Chloe happens to look so much like you, so he mistook her for you.” “I was so sick back then, one foot in the grave. If it weren’t for Chloe, Leo would have gotten sick and been in trouble many times.” He choked up, eyes reddening. “We didn’t know if you could come back…” “For Leo’s sake, we pretended to be a family. The wedding photos and everything are fake.” My throat felt like it was being strangled. I couldn’t make a sound. “Leo is young. Give him some time, okay?” Caleb asked hoarsely. Seeing me nod silently, he immediately smiled through his tears and hugged me tightly. I tried hard to regulate my breathing, propping up my crumbling body, went to the bedroom, and fell asleep. When I woke up, it was already evening. Some dishes were on the table. In the kitchen, my mother-in-law was busy serving food. Leo stood on a small stool, helping to wash dishes. Caleb took a dish from Chloe’s hands, exchanging a smile as their eyes met. The family sat down, chopsticks already moving. Caleb finally looked up. Seeing me at the corner, he stood up in a panic, face full of regret. “Look at my memory. Ava, you slept well? Dinner is just ready, come eat.” He helped me to the table. Just as I was about to sit, the support beneath me vanished, and I almost fell. Looking down, Leo had pulled my chair away. He scowled, glaring at me angrily: “Why are you still here!” “I don’t want to see you! Go away!” He grabbed my clothes, using all his strength to pull me toward the door. Seeing I didn’t move, his eyes turned red with rage, and he started punching my legs with his little fists. “Leo Vance! What do you think you’re doing!” Caleb shouted sternly, scaring tears out of Leo instantly. Chloe immediately hugged the child distressedly, comforting him softly: “It’s okay, it’s okay, Leo. Mommy is here.” “This auntie is Mommy’s good friend. She likes Leo very much. Can Leo try to be nice to her?” Seeing Leo calm down, she looked up at me, her eyes flashing with triumph. Caleb also turned to look at me, pleading in his expression, shaking his head at me. The meaning was clear: don’t provoke Leo, the child only recognizes Chloe. Grief surged in my heart, burning my insides. I gave a bitter smile, pulled out a chair, and ate my rice in silence. Chapter 3 Everything seemed calm on the surface. The wedding photo on the wall was taken down. Leo threw a tantrum, and Caleb begged me to take it slow, so our wedding photo wasn’t put back up. I tried to detach from the mission world and recommit to reality. But the atmosphere between Caleb and Chloe always made me feel suffocated. They didn’t do anything explicitly, but the eye contact made me feel like the third wheel. Watching Chloe take care of the child, I remained expressionless. “Look, Chloe plays piano very well. She taught Leo well too.” Caleb hugged me, smiling. “How much longer is she staying in my house?” I interrupted indifferently. Caleb’s smile froze visibly. He softened his voice: “Isn’t this good? Chloe helps take care of the child without affecting anything.” “Good? Your son calls someone else ‘Mom,’ and you think that’s good?” My tone was harsh, and Caleb’s face sank. “What do you mean?” “Chloe has worked hard without complaint all these years, acting like a nanny every day. We owe her so much.” “She has no family and has long treated this place as her home. She hasn’t provoked you, and now you want to kick her out?” He raised his voice, implying I was being unreasonable. Seeing my silence, he sighed again. “My mom recognized her as a goddaughter, so she is our sister.” “I know you just came back and feel bad.” “But everything was fine, and you suddenly doing this messes everything up.” There was hidden blame in his words. Like a knife stabbing the softest part of my heart. He meant I was the uninvited guest who disrupted his peaceful life? Chloe, sitting at the piano, heard the commotion. Meeting my eyes, she looked like a frightened rabbit, smiling ingratiatingly with red eyes. But looking closely, the provocation in her eyes couldn’t be hidden. Leo also turned around. Seeing me, his smile vanished. “Daddy, come here, let’s play piano together.” As he spoke, he glared at me fiercely. Warning me not to approach. I didn’t want to watch their happy family of three anymore and turned to leave. I thought Leo was just too young to recognize me. Now I realized, it seemed no one wanted to accept me anymore. That night, after showering, Caleb naturally tried to pull me into his arms. But the scent of his body wash was the same as Chloe’s. I turned sideways, dodging him. “Ava, there is absolutely nothing between me and Chloe. We are innocent.” “Are you still going to make a scene? Must you target Chloe?” Caleb’s tone darkened. Seeing no reaction from me, he said quietly, “Are you thinking about someone else?” “Ava, tell me the truth. In that world, how far did you go with him?” My breath hitched. I knew he meant the man I had to romance for the mission. The emotions I desperately suppressed surged like a tide. In that moment, meeting his suspicious and scrutinizing gaze, my blood seemed to freeze. He knew. Every day he lived meant my target’s affection level increased, meaning I was loved more by another man. So, he was disgusted? My eyes burned, tears blurring my vision unknowingly. His expression softened slightly, showing a hint of pity. Then he gripped my hand tightly: “Forget it. It’s good you’re back.” “Every day was actually painful for me. I didn’t dare dream of today…” “From now on, we can be together forever.” His tone was as deeply affectionate as ever. But it didn’t sound like celebration; it sounded like consolation. And his eyes were a pool of darkness I couldn’t read.

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There were two stray cats living in the flowerbeds of our apartment complex. My daughter, Harper, would go down every day to feed them. But I noticed something odd: she only fed one of them. She completely ignored the other. In fact, I once caught her sneaking down to kick over the second cat’s bowl if a neighbor had left food out for it. When I asked her why, she looked me dead in the eye and said, “That one’s a male. Males are trash. He deserves to starve.” I was shocked. I immediately tried to correct her. “Harper, saying all males are trash includes me. I’m a man. Am I trash too?” She shook her head vigorously, hugging my waist. “No, Daddy, you’re the best father in the world. But except for you? Yeah. Men are garbage.” I mentioned this to my wife, Linda. She just laughed it off. “Kids that age go through phases. Boys play with boys, girls play with girls. It’s normal to have prejudices.” She even argued it was a good thing. “Look, the world is a dangerous place. It’s like a dark forest. You never know if a stranger is a predator or a person. Keeping her guard up against men? Better safe than sorry.” I thought Linda had a point, so I let it slide. As for the male cat? He got bullied out of the territory. The remaining female didn’t last long either; she was chased off by a scarred, aggressive tabby a few weeks later. I didn’t think much of it until a few days later, when Harper came home claiming she’d been “touched.” “I was trying to get off the bus,” she sobbed, “and the driver blocked the aisle. He said unless I let him touch my… you know… he wouldn’t open the door. I was so scared.” She added that four other girls on the bus had seen it. They’d been touched too. This was serious. I immediately contacted the other parents. Once we confirmed their stories aligned, we marched straight to the precinct. Because the victims were minors, the police moved fast. Within an hour, they had the driver in custody. His name was Caleb Vance. A veteran, high school education, unmarried, living with his elderly mother. When the police brought Caleb in, the parents lost it. It turned into a brawl. Linda even swung her heavy Louis Vuitton bag at Caleb’s head, snapping the strap as she struck him. But under interrogation, Caleb screamed that he was innocent. He swore on his life he never touched those girls. He dropped to his knees in the interrogation room, sobbing until he hyperventilated. “My mother is bedridden. She’s dying. I’m the only one she has. Please, you can’t do this to me…” 1 I’ve always prided myself on being a good judge of character. Caleb Vance didn’t fit the profile. In all the years Harper had ridden his bus, he was never late, never rude. It was hard to reconcile that man with a child predator. I decided to press Harper for details. “Honey, I need you to be brave. Were you the first one he touched? Who was in front of you? Who was behind you?” Simple questions. But Harper stammered. She couldn’t keep the sequence straight. “Harper,” I lowered my voice. “Look at me. Did Caleb actually touch you?” She burst into tears. Linda was furious. She shoved me out of the room, accusing me of betraying our daughter. “We are her parents! We are supposed to be on her side, no matter what!” Linda screamed. “Who cares if Caleb is innocent? That’s for the cops to figure out. Worst case scenario? We apologize. Big deal.” I was speechless, but she wasn’t entirely wrong. The legal system is designed to find the truth. They wouldn’t convict an innocent man. The police pulled the bus surveillance and GPS. Caleb had followed his route perfectly. Unless he could grope a child while driving a forty-foot vehicle with both hands on the wheel, the timeline didn’t make sense. However, forensics found trace DNA on the girls’ clothes. No fingerprints, just contact transfer. It wasn’t definitive proof of assault, but it didn’t rule out contact. The police released a statement: “No direct evidence of molestation found.” The parents went nuclear. They flooded the Mayor’s office with calls, accusing the police of laziness and incompetence. Hours later, the statement changed: “Cannot rule out the suspect’s involvement.” Same meaning, different framing. But that was enough for the District Attorney. They pressed charges. Given the number of alleged victims, the DA pushed for the maximum. Seven years. At the trial, Caleb’s defense called two witnesses. First was his former Platoon Sergeant. He testified that Caleb was a model soldier in Afghanistan, decorated for bravery. “A man like that doesn’t hurt kids,” he said. The second was Caleb’s mother, Martha. The frail old woman wept on the stand. “He never married because he takes care of me and my medical bills. He is a good son. He would never do this.” But character witnesses aren’t factual evidence. Only God knew what happened on that bus. The jury found Caleb guilty. He was sentenced to five years. Caleb screamed he would appeal. The parents complained the sentence was too light. 2 A few days later, an old woman blocked my path at the grocery store. It was Martha Vance. Her hands shook as she tried to shove an envelope into my jacket pocket. Inside was five thousand dollars—mostly in small bills—and a box of homemade cookies. She begged me. She pleaded for me to help her son avoid prison. I knew Caleb made less than four grand a month. This envelope was likely Martha’s life savings. I gently pushed it back. “Mrs. Vance, I can’t help you. The verdict is in. Even if I wrote a letter of forgiveness now, it would only help with parole hearings later. He’s going to prison.” Martha shook her head frantically. She didn’t want a letter. She wanted Harper to recant. “My son didn’t touch your girl. Please, you have to believe me! It’s because…” She stopped, her face twisting in pain, as if she were swallowing a secret that burned her throat. I was losing patience. “Use this money for a better appeal lawyer, ma’am. That’s the best way to help Caleb.” Maybe my advice worked. A week later, I received a notice. Caleb had a new attorney for his appeal. They were going for full exoneration. The lawyer added a note: “If we win, we will be countersuing for defamation and malicious prosecution. As her guardian, you will be held liable.” I chuckled. I’m a lawyer too. That was just posturing. But the other parents panicked. The group chat exploded. They tagged me relentlessly: What do we do? Can we lose our houses? I told them the truth: “Overturning a conviction on appeal is incredibly hard. They must have found new evidence.” My honesty terrified them. Weeks later, a hashtag started trending: #JusticeForOurGirls. I clicked the video. It was a montage of Harper and the four other girls, looking innocent and tearful, set to sad piano music. Then, a jump cut to a photo of Caleb, greasy and dirty, changing oil under the bus. The contrast was manipulative and effective. The comments section was a cesspool. “Monster.” “Animal.” “He deserves to die.” The case went national. Other parents in the district started panicking, wondering if Caleb had touched their daughters too over the last decade. My colleagues, my friends—everyone offered their “sympathy.” It was humiliating. Bowing to public pressure, the appellate court delayed the hearing indefinitely. But the person who suffered most was Martha. The vigilantes found her address. They threw paint on her door. They mailed her dead rats. Even at the hospital, nurses treated her with cold contempt. Martha couldn’t take it. A month later, she went to the courthouse steps. She doused herself in gasoline and lit a match. Witnesses said that as she burned, she didn’t scream in pain. She just kept yelling, “My son is innocent! Why won’t you believe him?” 3 I was terrified Martha’s suicide would traumatize Harper. I decided to take her to Disney World to get away from the news. She had a blast. But one night, while she was sleeping, her iPad lit up. I usually respect her privacy, but something made me look. The messages were a long thread with her friends. They were trash-talking me. Harper complained I was cheap, that I checked coupons at restaurants, that she wished she had a rich, famous dad. Then, a friend text: “Why don’t you just send your dad to jail too?” Harper replied: “Can’t. I need him to pay for college. Maybe later.” My blood ran cold. I shook her awake. “Harper! Did Caleb touch you? Tell me the truth!” She tried to lie, but Linda wasn’t there to coach her. Under pressure, the truth spilled out. Caleb never touched her. He never touched anyone. The reason? The bus route passed our apartment complex, but the designated stop was two blocks away. Harper wanted to get off early. Caleb refused because of insurance regulations. That was it. That was the motive. The other four girls? Harper’s clique. They didn’t like Caleb because he was strict and, in their words, “fat and gross.” Harper tugged at my pajama pants, tears streaming down her face. “I just wanted to get him fired, Daddy. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, okay?” The banality of her evil left me paralyzed. She didn’t understand the gravity of what she’d done. She thought an apology fixed everything. We flew home the next morning. I told Linda everything. Linda’s reaction was to hush me. “Bury it,” she whispered. “Take this to the grave.” “Martha is dead, Robert! Even if Caleb gets out, he won’t thank us. He’ll hate us. He might come after us.” She argued that the best outcome was for Caleb to die in prison. “The other girls won’t talk if Harper doesn’t.” But what if he didn’t die? Five years is a long time to nurse a grudge. 4 I couldn’t live with it. The only way to mitigate Caleb’s potential rage was to give him his life back. I tried to get the other parents to come forward. They refused. They were terrified of the liability and the social stigma. So, I took over Caleb’s defense myself. I met him in the visitor’s center. He looked like a skeleton. His eyes, once kind, were now hollow pits of darkness. I apologized. He scoffed. But when I told him I could clear his name, he listened. He told me his plan. When he got out, he would bury his mother properly. Then he’d buy a small truck and haul cargo cross-country. He just wanted to leave this town and never come back. I felt a wave of relief. Prison hadn’t destroyed his humanity yet. I prepped Harper. “It’s never too late to do the right thing,” I told her. “Tell the truth in court. I will protect you.” She nodded, promising she wouldn’t lie again. The appeal hearing arrived. I put Harper on the stand. The Prosecutor asked, “Did Caleb Vance touch you?” Harper looked at the jury, then at me. “Yes,” she said clearly. The courtroom gasped. I froze. “Then why does your father claim you lied?” the Prosecutor asked. “Because…” Harper sniffled, “My dad is old-fashioned. To him, my… purity… is more important than my safety. He didn’t want a ‘damaged’ daughter. He tried to make me change my story.” I stood up, mouth open, but no sound came out. Harper stepped down and walked into Linda’s arms. They left without looking at me. The appeal was denied. The light in Caleb’s eyes finally went out. I went home and screamed at Linda. She called me a fool. “Women lie to survive, Robert. It’s nature. I’m proud of her.” She filed for divorce the next week. Harper changed her social media bio: “Men really are trash.”

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When Caleb brought me breakfast, he discovered a man hiding in my apartment. He was shocked. Then, he was furious. He pointed a shaking finger at Hayes’s nose and shouted, “You shameless homewrecker!” Hayes looked at him with utter disdain. “Kid, I knew her before you were even born.” Caleb looked even more horrified. He turned to me. “Wait… so, am I the side piece?” Hayes smirked. “No. You’re number four. Get in line.” 1 I woke up to see Hayes standing by my bed, wearing nothing but grey sweatpants and my floral apron. I thought I was still dreaming. Until he reached out, touched my forehead, and asked in that cold, crisp voice of his: “Still hungover?” I jolted awake like I’d been electrocuted. “Why are you in my house?” “I made oatmeal…” We spoke at the same time, then fell silent at the same time. Thankfully, a knock at the door broke the suffocating awkwardness. “I’ll get it.” I grabbed a trench coat, threw it over my silk nightgown, and fled the bedroom. The person at the door was Caleb, a junior colleague from work. I was surprised. Caleb’s face was glowing with youthful energy. He was holding a bag of warm comfort food. “Morning, Nora! I brought coffee and those bagels you like from the corner deli.” But his smile vanished the second he looked past me and saw Hayes. Hayes, being the psychopath he is, had taken off the hoodie he was wearing under the apron. Now, the floral fabric barely covered his broad, muscular chest. The apron cinched at his waist, emphasizing his V-taper. Below that, grey sweatpants. It was a look that screamed “we just had sex.” Shocked and angry, Caleb covered my eyes with his hand and yelled at Hayes. “Who are you?” “Don’t you know Nora has a boyfriend?” “What is this behavior? Put some clothes on!” The more he spoke, the angrier he got. But his voice was trembling. It went from rage to grievance, and finally, to choking back tears. I tried to explain. “Caleb, it’s not what it looks like.” Nobody was listening to me. Caleb was pointing at Hayes, cursing him out. calling him a “shameless homewrecker.” Hayes didn’t say a word. He glanced at the bagels in Caleb’s hand, then calmly grabbed my wrist and sat me down at the dining table. “The oatmeal cooled down. Eat.” Caleb stormed over, snatched the bowl of oatmeal away, and laid out the bagels he brought. That was when Hayes finally looked annoyed. Caleb pointed at the door. “I’ll take care of Nora. You—whoever you are—get the hell out.” He was acting like the man of the house. Hayes just let out a cold laugh. “I knew her before you were even born.” I tried to de-escalate. “Caleb, he and I… we aren’t in a relationship like that.” But Caleb, immersed in his own heartbreak, had his own logic. He looked at Hayes. Then at me. Then back at Hayes. “So… am I the side piece?” “No,” I said quickly. Hayes threw gasoline on the fire. “You’re the side piece’s understudy. Number four.” The apartment was chaos. Caleb looked at me, his expression shattering. He looked like a kicked puppy. I glared at Hayes. “Since when is he number four?” I tried to remember last night. I remembered getting drunk, calling Hayes, and him telling me to stay put. Before that… Caleb had confessed his feelings to me. But I vividly remembered rejecting him. I asked Hayes, “What exactly happened last night?” While Caleb was zoning out in shock, Hayes swept all the bagels into the trash can. Then he answered casually: “After you passed out, this kid texted you a confession. I thought he seemed sincere, so I accepted on your behalf.” Hayes cleaned the table as he spoke. Then he looked up at me, a bitter smile on his lips. “Since you already have a side piece, I figured one more wouldn’t hurt. I’m not the jealous type.” I rolled my eyes. “Generous of you.” Caleb seemed to reboot. His righteous indignation was gone. He looked at Hayes, his voice small. “If I’m number four… does that make you the boyfriend?” That question hit a nerve. Hayes paused for two seconds. “No,” he said darkly. “I’m the mistress.” 2 I fell silent. Technically, Hayes and I were in a shady, secret arrangement. But hearing it said out loud in front of an outsider made me want to crawl under the floorboards. Thankfully, Caleb was too traumatized to ask follow-up questions. He left shortly after. Hayes scooped a fresh bowl of oatmeal and slammed it in front of me. Seeing me stare at the door, he sneered. “Miss him?” “Want me to run down the hall and get him back for you?” The acid in his tone could burn through steel. He was mocking me, but mostly, he was hurting himself. As I ate quietly, Hayes finally snapped. He tore off the mask of indifference. “That kid really likes you. Why haven’t you mentioned him?” “He calls you ‘Nora’ so casually. Did you know him in college?” “How much younger is he? You’re into interns now?” I didn’t respond. Hayes looked like he was about to lose his mind. He pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down. Silence. Then: “You think I’m too old?” “I’m five years older than you… that’s not exactly geriatric, Nora.” “But I guess fresh meat is appealing.” I rubbed my temples. “Can you stop making a scene?” Hayes opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. “Brother, please.” I said it out of habit. It meant nothing. But Hayes stood up so fast his chair screeched across the floor. He stared at me, eyes dark. “You haven’t called me ‘Brother’ in years. Why now?” ” trying to break up with me?” Terrified that I might say yes, Hayes grabbed his clothes and fled the apartment before I could explain. I stared at the closed door. I thought about what he told Caleb: I knew her before you were born. It was true. Caleb is two years younger than me. The year he was born was the year my mother married Hayes’s father. I was two. Hayes was seven. Hayes hated my mother. At his seventh birthday party, he swore he’d kick us both out of the Sterling estate. My mother would smile and say, “He’s just a child, I don’t mind.” In private, she ground her teeth so hard I thought they’d crack. She was desperate to have a son to replace Hayes as the heir. I did whatever my mother told me. She told me to suck up to Hayes, so I did. Even when he bullied me, even when he pranked me, I chased him around calling him “Big Brother.” It didn’t work. The year he hated me most, he locked me in the basement while our parents were away. Two days. No food. I almost died. Mr. Sterling couldn’t ignore it anymore. He forced Hayes to apologize and demanded he treat me like a biological sister. What did Hayes say back then? He said: “I would rather die than like her.” But years later… The man who begged me. The man who willingly became my dirty little secret just to stay near me. It was him. 3 The next day at work, Caleb cornered me in the breakroom. He’s the CEO’s son. We went to the same university. Now that he’s graduated, his dad put him under my wing. I tried to explain the previous morning. “You know I was drunk. That wasn’t me accepting your confession on WeChat.” Caleb nodded. “I know.” I sighed, relieved. I thought the drama was over. Then he said: “But we can just go with it.” He looked deadly serious. “Nora, I’ve thought about it.” “If I can be with you, I don’t mind being number four.” “You’re amazing. It’s normal for guys to chase you.” “I don’t care about the other guys. I believe if I work hard, I’ll get promoted to boyfriend eventually.” “I haven’t met the others, but the guy at your apartment… he seemed old.” “You’re young, beautiful. Can an old man like that keep up with you?” “Why don’t you dump him and let me be the mistress?” Caleb scratched his head. “Being the ‘mistress’ sounds cooler than being ‘number four’.” Just then, the breakroom door swung open. Hayes walked in, face like a thundercloud. “Who are you calling an old man?” Hayes’s company had a contract with ours. He was here for a meeting with the CEO. He just happened to walk in on Caleb badmouthing him. “Did you forget who got you into that college prep school, kid?” “If it weren’t for my recommendation letter, you wouldn’t even be qualified to be number four.” Usually, Hayes wouldn’t stoop to arguing with a fresh grad. But the word “old” was his trigger word this week. “Biting the hand that feeds you. Is that how your daddy taught you business?” Caleb didn’t flinch. He looked Hayes dead in the eye and scoffed. Knowing Hayes was just a “side piece” gave Caleb confidence. “We’re competitors now.” “I’m just marketing my advantages to Nora.” “I wasn’t wrong,” Caleb looked Hayes up and down. “You are older than me.” “Who is the boyfriend and who is the side piece… that’s Nora’s decision.” “If she prefers youth and dumps you for me, that’s just natural selection, isn’t it?” Every “old” was a dagger in Hayes’s heart. He laughed, a cold, sharp sound. He pulled out his phone and dialed the CEO’s office. Minutes later, Caleb was summoned by his father. As he left, Caleb gritted his teeth and whispered, “Old fossil. Plays dirty.” Hayes closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked calmer. “It’s Dad’s birthday. Are you going back to the estate?” I nodded. “I have to.” My mother had called three times to remind me. “Okay. I’ll wait for you downstairs.” The elevator ride down was silent. Hayes was regretting everything. Accepting Caleb’s confession on my phone had been a strategic error. He did it because my actual boyfriend—the love of my life—was returning to the country this week. Hayes knew he couldn’t compete with Dr. Ethan Cole. So, he tried to throw a wrench in the gears by adding Caleb to the mix. He figured Caleb was a harmless distraction. He thought, I can’t beat Ethan, but I can definitely beat this college kid. Now, he realized he’d just played himself. He didn’t hurt Ethan. He just annoyed himself to death. Hayes sat in the car, unlit cigarette in his mouth. He needed the nicotine, but he wouldn’t light it. I was getting in the car. And I hate the smell of smoke.

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I discovered my husband was cheating on me when I was sixteen weeks pregnant. We hadn’t been intimate in a long time. Worried he was sexually frustrated, I even asked my OB-GYN during my check-up. She said as long as I was past the first trimester, it was fine. That night, I cuddled up to him, wrapping my arm around his waist. Half-asleep, he let out a low groan, a sticky, satisfied chuckle rumbling in his throat: “Seven rounds and you’re still hungry, you little glutton…” 1 I never thought my husband, Caleb Sterling, would cheat. From college sweethearts to walking down the aisle, our eight years together looked like the American Dream. Caleb was a respected Associate Professor of Philosophy, on the tenure track. I was a thoracic surgeon at a top-tier hospital. We had money, respect, and a perfect marriage. Caleb was the last of his family line, and when I got pregnant early this year, we were the envy of everyone in our social circle. I couldn’t fathom a reason for him to stray. Until I unlocked his phone. Until I scrolled through the texts. Until I found her—Vanessa. I’d heard of Vanessa from Caleb’s college buddies. She was the high school Prom Queen. The girl every guy in their small Rust Belt town dreamed about. Caleb pined after her for three years. At their graduation party, his friends pressured him to confess. Vanessa, who was being chased by the son of a local car dealership owner, shot him down cold. “Caleb, you’re cute, but let’s be real,” she had said, swirling her red solo cup. “I’m going places. You’re… from the trailer park. You can’t even afford to buy me a deceptive knock-off purse, let alone the real thing. Come back when you’re somebody.” Caleb was poor, but he had an ego made of glass. That night, he changed his college applications. Vanessa went South. He went North. That’s how he met me. The first time I saw Caleb, my father—the Dean of his department—brought him home for Thanksgiving. He was wearing faded jeans with frayed hems. He looked hungry, cautious, and desperate to please. He became my father’s star pupil. He started coming around more often. We fell in love. With my father’s connections and his own grit, Caleb got his PhD, got published, and landed a coveted position at the university. On our wedding night, Caleb held me like I was fragile porcelain. “Elena,” he whispered, “I came from nothing. Your dad gave me a career. You gave me a home. I owe the Vance family my life.” “I will always be loyal to you. I will love you and take care of your dad until the end. If I ever break this vow, may I rot in hell.” I kissed him to stop him from saying more. The vow still echoed in my ears. But the man beside me had clearly forgotten it. Moonlight sliced through the blinds, cutting Caleb’s sleeping face in half. I stared at the texts, feeling like an invisible hand was crushing my windpipe. When was their first time? 2 I found the answer in their chat history. Two months ago. Right after I confirmed the pregnancy. It started with a high school reunion back in Ohio. Vanessa added him on Facebook. Caleb accepted. She sent him a video. I clicked play. It was grainy footage from a dive bar. A group of paunchy, balding men were chanting, circling Caleb and Vanessa. “Come on, Prom Queen! Make Caleb’s teenage dreams come true! One shot!” “You don’t know, Vanessa,” one guy slurred. “Caleb used to pray to a shrine of you.” Caleb stood next to her. He was taller, fitter, wearing a bespoke suit and designer glasses. He looked like a king among peasants. “Alright, guys, knock it off,” Caleb laughed, swirling his whiskey. “That was years ago. Don’t embarrass Vanessa. Her husband wouldn’t like it.” Vanessa looked down, her voice trembling. “It’s fine. I’m divorced.” The table went silent. Vanessa gave a brave, tragic smile. “It really is fine. It’s in the past.” She looked up at Caleb, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I actually envy your wife, Caleb. She comes from money, she’s beautiful… but mostly because she gets a good man like you. Unlike me. I chose… poorly.” Under the pressure of the crowd, they did a “couples shot”—arms interlinked. To “close the chapter” on their youth. The video ended with them staring into each other’s eyes. Vanessa texted him later that night: Caleb, thanks for saving me back there. I added you to apologize properly. When I rejected you at graduation… I was forced to. That rich guy threatened to jump you if I said yes. I didn’t want him to break your legs. I said those mean things to protect you. I wanted to take that secret to the grave, but seeing you tonight… I couldn’t hold it in. But at least you’re happy. That’s enough for me. Caleb didn’t reply for hours. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the ghost of his bruised ego. At 3:00 AM, he texted back: If it wasn’t for him, would you have said yes to me? Vanessa replied instantly: In a heartbeat. The screen glowed in the dark. The words seemed to expand, filling the room, then shrink into needles pricking my eyes. After that night, radio silence. Until a stormy night two weeks later. Vanessa texted: Caleb, my car died. I’m stranded on the Interstate. I’m scared. Can you come? I remembered that night. There was a severe weather warning. Caleb had picked me up from the hospital early, but we still got soaked running to the house. I had a fever. Because of the baby, I couldn’t take strong meds. Caleb spent hours sponging my forehead with cool water. Around midnight, I was burning up. Caleb’s phone rang. He hung up and told me his best friend, Mark, was stranded on the highway. “It’s pouring,” I said, shivering. “It’s dangerous out there. You should go help him.” “I can’t,” Caleb said, looking torn. “Mark isn’t as important as my wife. You’re sick. I’m not leaving you.” I smiled weakly. “I’m feeling better, really. Go. Be a hero. Come back safe.” He looked conflicted. But he grabbed his keys and left. That was the night he slept with Vanessa. 3 The next morning, Vanessa texted: Caleb, let’s treat last night as a beautiful mistake. I won’t wreck your home. I don’t expect you to love me. Giving my purity to you was enough. Caleb sent three question marks. Purity? You were married. Vanessa replied after a long pause: People think I married my ex for money. They don’t know he had… issues. He was impotent. I married him for safety, not desire. I lied to you. That blood on the sheets wasn’t my period. It was my first time. Caleb, I’ve loved you since homeroom. Giving myself to you… I have no regrets. Don’t worry. I won’t be a burden. Maybe in the next life, I won’t miss my chance with you. Caleb lost his mind. He video-called her fifteen times. No answer. He sent voice notes, his voice cracking with panic. Vanessa, I’m driving to your motel right now. Don’t do anything stupid! Do you hear me?! I admit, I slept with you to get back at the girl who rejected me. It was an ego trip. But that was a lie I told myself. You’ve always been the one! The rain, the car… it wasn’t just heat of the moment. It was inevitable. Vanessa, let’s start over. Please. I can’t lose you twice! Vanessa didn’t reply. Because she had slit her wrists. The ambulance brought her to the nearest Trauma Center. My hospital. I met Vanessa in the recovery ward. I was doing rounds. She stared at me from the bed. I checked her vitals, professional and cold. As I turned to leave, she spoke. “Dr. Vance. Nice name.” I turned. She stared at my ID badge, a pale smile on her lips. “I heard your husband is a professor. Funny. My boyfriend is a professor too.” Caleb and I were the hospital’s power couple. Everyone knew us. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I just said: “Self-harm isn’t the answer. Take care of yourself.” Vanessa tilted her head. “You’re right. I won’t be that stupid again. I need to stay healthy. I have a lifetime to spend with my boyfriend.” 4 I put the phone back on the nightstand and didn’t sleep a wink. I was going to divorce Caleb. But not yet. My father had been diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer. He didn’t have long. Caleb visited him daily. If we had a messy split now, Dad would die with a broken heart. Caleb was his greatest creation—the rough diamond he polished. I couldn’t destroy my father’s final illusion. So the next morning, I played the part. Caleb went for a jog and brought back bagels. We ate breakfast. He kissed my forehead before leaving. “Elena, Mark is throwing a birthday thing for a buddy tonight. I’ll be late. Don’t wait up. Love you.” I smiled. “Drive safe.” I knew whose birthday it was. Vanessa had sent him a photo of a new Louis Vuitton bag yesterday. Thanks, Hubby. Caleb, for my birthday, I want to pretend. Just for one night. Can we be a normal couple? Hold hands in public? Dinner with your friends? I don’t want to steal you. You belong to Elena. But just for 24 hours… let me be your wife. It worked like a charm on Caleb. He organized the dinner at a high-end French bistro. I knew the owner, a single mom who had survived a nasty divorce. I called her. She gave me the security footage without hesitation.

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My wife and I were the world’s greatest liars. She lied and told me we were going for a routine check-up. In reality, she was harvesting my heart to save the love of her life. I lied and told her I was going to a private sanitarium to clear my head. In reality, I left signed divorce papers on the counter and vanished to die alone. It wasn’t until three years later, at her lover’s birthday gala, that my wife of four years finally remembered we shared the same birthday. Feeling a rare moment of mercy, she ordered the leftover cake to be sent to the facility where she thought I’d been rotting for three years. The nurse on the other end of the line was shocked: “Ms. Thorne, didn’t you know? Mr. Vance’s body rejected the trauma. He died three years ago.” Serena Thorne sneered, convinced I was playing another game. She dialed my number: “Ethan, you better get your ass back here right now. Liam wants to see you.” Beside me, my mother heard my name. Blood tears streamed from her blind eyes: “Are you a friend of Ethan’s? My son has been dead for three years.” 1 “Where is Ethan Vance? Tell him to get out here! Now!” “If he hadn’t agreed to the surgery back then, do you think I’d ever set foot in this godforsaken trailer park?” Serena Thorne, fresh from a board meeting in the city, kicked open the rusted door of my childhood home. My mother, who was carefully wiping dust off a framed photo, turned around. Because we couldn’t afford treatment back then, her eyes had healed into two terrifying, hollow pits. She reached out, her hands trembling as she felt for her white cane. “Is that… is that Serena? Are you back from work?” Serena scanned the room, her gaze colder than the winter wind blowing through the cracks. “Where is he? I don’t have time for hide-and-seek.” Mom froze, her hand hovering over the cane. “You’re not Serena. Who are you? Are you Ethan’s friend? Ethan… he passed away.” Mom’s voice cracked, wet with grief. Serena let out a cruel, sharp laugh. “Did Ethan tell you to say that? Three years of silence, and now he’s playing dead?” “If he doesn’t come out, tell him not to bother showing his face to me ever again!” As you wish, Serena. I really won’t appear again… Mom gripped her cane until her knuckles turned white. “Ethan is gone. He died three years ago…” Serena looked around the room. She spotted the photo Mom had been cleaning. It was a funeral portrait—me at twenty-five, smiling, full of life. “He even photoshopped a funeral portrait to make me feel guilty? I don’t find it sad; I find it disgusting!” “Don’t touch Ethan’s picture! Give it back!” Mom stumbled forward to grab it. Because she couldn’t see, she tripped and fell hard onto the floorboards. I instinctively reached out to break her fall. But my hands passed right through her trembling body. It hit me again. I was dead. I had been dead for three years. Serena kicked Mom’s cane away. She smashed the picture frame onto the floor. My twenty-five-year-old smile shattered into a thousand pieces. “Tell him to come out. Stop wasting my time!” Mom crawled through the glass shards, frantically feeling for my photo. Her hands were cut and bleeding. My heart—or the phantom of it—was being crushed in a vice. I tried to grab her hands, to stop her, but I was nothing but air. After her bodyguards tore the small house apart and found nothing, Serena turned her rage back to my mother. 2 Her designer stiletto ground down on Mom’s hand, pressing it into the broken glass. “Where is he? Did he run off with some other woman? I knew it. He’s unfaithful trash. I never should have married him!” I didn’t cheat! I was already dead! I died three years ago because of your bias and Liam’s cruelty! When I was alive, I couldn’t stop my fate. Now that I’m dead, I could only kneel on the floor, screaming, begging Serena to lift her foot. Just as Mom cried out in pain, the door burst open. My sister, Harper, rushed in, still wearing her security guard uniform. She only had one arm left. She shoved Serena away with a force born of pure fury. “You psycho! You killed my brother, and now you want to kill our mother too?” Serena scoffed, dusting off her coat. “So that’s the script? Ethan told you to lie so he could live happily ever after with his mistress? Newsflash: The doctors said the surgery was safe.” “I sent him to the best sanitarium. I hired the best private nurses. How could he be dead?” Safe? The only one safe was Liam! Less than a month after they took my heart, my body began to fail. The facility rushed me to the ER. While I was lying on a gurney, waiting for the treatment deposit and a family signature, Serena was walking on the beach with Liam. When the doctor called time of death, Serena was draping her jacket over Liam’s shoulders, terrified he might catch a chill. Harper shielded Mom with her single arm. “Ms. Thorne, my brother is dead. If you don’t believe me, go ask the hospital that tried to save him!” Serena looked down at them like they were insects. “You think I’m stupid? The sanitarium director told me everything. Ethan checked himself out with a woman!” No! 3 It was Liam Cross. He bribed the director to frame me. It was such a clumsy lie, yet Serena swallowed it whole. Harper, who used to be so proud, fell to her knees. “Ms. Thorne, Ethan died of post-op infection three years ago. We didn’t have the money for the treatments. We watched him die. Please.” “No money? I gave your family a settlement of ten million dollars. How could you be broke?” “Ethan really will say anything to make me the villain.” “I don’t know what settlement you’re talking about! He’s dead!” Harper screamed. Serena’s eyes went cold. “Beat them. Don’t stop until Ethan comes out.” The bodyguards moved in. Harper curled into a ball, taking the kicks meant for Mom. The sound of boots hitting flesh filled the tiny trailer. Mom waved her hands helplessly, blood tears streaming down her face. “Please stop! He’s my only son! He’s gone!” Serena kicked Mom aside. I screamed, throwing myself at Serena, trying to rip out her black heart. But I was a ghost. I couldn’t touch her. I could only listen to my own desperate wails. “Stop it! Stop it! I’m already dead! Why won’t you let my family go?!” Harper coughed up blood. “Serena! If you want to hurt someone, hurt me! Leave Mom alone!” Serena looked at them with disgust. “If Ethan has the guts to run away with a mistress, he should have the guts to face the consequences. This is on him.” “Did you forget how you lost your arm? Did you forget how your mother went blind? If you don’t want a repeat performance, tell Ethan to get out here and kneel.” Three years ago, to force me into the surgery, Serena used her connections to get Harper fired from the police force. 4 Harper had just received a commendation for bravery. Her future was bright. But Serena framed her for taking bribes and protecting a felon. I knelt in the rain outside Serena’s estate for twenty-four hours before she agreed to let Harper go with just a firing. Mom, who ran a small art studio, was smeared online until she was a social pariah. Our family was buried in debt from the lawsuits. But Harper and Mom didn’t give up on me. They tried to help me run away. To escape Serena. But Liam found out. He tipped off Serena. Serena’s “fixers” chopped off Harper’s arm. Mom was blinded by a shattered mirror while trying to protect Harper. Three years ago, I signed the consent form to save them. Three years later, I still couldn’t protect them. A bodyguard ran in. “Ms. Thorne, Mr. Cross is here.” Serena stopped instantly. The cruelty vanished from her face. “Who told him to come? His immune system is weak. This place is filthy. What if he catches something?” Seeing the tenderness on her face, my soul ached. To her, Liam was porcelain. I was just the packaging. She stole my heart to fix him. She turned a living man into a corpse for him. Serena looked at my dying sister and mother. “Make them talk. Just don’t let Liam see the blood. He gets faint.” I drifted after her as she walked to the waiting limo.

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My billionaire husband never touches me. But I’m pregnant. To avoid him discovering the green hat I presumably forced on his head, I filed for divorce and ran to another state to book an abortion. Later, he tore my dress apart. His kisses fell like rain, his tone dark and dangerous. “Don’t cry. I haven’t even started yet.” “Be good. Once I become your first love, you won’t want to leave.” 1 I stared at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. My vision went black. I’d taken a dozen tests, and the result was always the same. But I hadn’t slept with my husband. How was I pregnant? I replayed the last few months in my head. I hadn’t even touched a male dog, let alone a man! Wait. Was it my birthday? The night I got blackout drunk? That night, Declan promised he’d be there. But I waited until midnight, and he never showed. Declan Sterling was forced to marry me. He disdained touching me. He was always cold, maintaining a polite, icy distance. I had hoped my birthday would bridge the gap. But he ghosted me. He didn’t answer my calls. My best friend, seeing me heartbroken, joked she’d hire a guy to keep me company. I drank too much. The next morning was a blur. I thought the soreness in my body was from falling down the stairs. I didn’t think I’d actually slept with someone! Suddenly. The sound of an engine cut through the silence. Declan was home. Oh god. How was I going to explain this accidental infidelity? 2 I frantically swept all the pregnancy tests into the trash can. I rushed downstairs. Declan looked exhausted, carrying the chill of the night air. I noticed a smear of blood on his white dress shirt and gasped, stepping forward. “You’re hurt?” I tried to check him. Declan dodged my hand, his voice cold. “Don’t touch me.” I almost forgot. He hated my touch. I retracted my hand, feeling the sting of rejection. I was about to get the first aid kit when he spoke. “It’s not my blood. It’s from a subordinate.” “He sold me out. I handled it. He’s on a one-way trip to nowhere.” “Traitors deserve to die, don’t you agree?” “…” I hid my trembling fingers behind my back, my throat tight. They said Declan Sterling was ruthless in the business world, a man who burned bridges to build empires. If he knew about the green light flashing over his head… My fate would probably be worse than that subordinate’s. Declan studied me, frowning. “You look pale. Did the blood scare you? I’m going to shower.” He started up the stairs. I looked at his tall, imposing back. I couldn’t help but ask: “Declan, why didn’t you come to my birthday?” “…” Declan stopped, his back to me. He didn’t answer for several seconds. It seemed like a difficult question. Actually, I knew. That day, his childhood sweetheart returned from Europe. He went to her welcome party. Sloane had posted on Instagram, saying nothing had changed. In the photo, they stood together, a bond so tight no one could squeeze in. “I had work. Didn’t I send a gift? You didn’t like it?” “No, it was fine.” My chest felt heavy. I knew I was just a wife in name only, less important than his Sloane. But his clumsy lie made me feel even more pathetic. The “gift” was a designer bag his assistant picked out. Expensive, but not my color. I couldn’t help but think… If he had come that night, maybe I wouldn’t be pregnant right now. 3 Declan and I slept in separate rooms. Most of the time, he was away on business. Maybe he just didn’t want to see the wife who occupied a space that wasn’t hers. My phone pinged with an anonymous message. It was a photo of Declan and Sloane shopping together. In the picture, his eyes were glued to the beautiful woman beside him. Declan never shopped with me. He said it was a waste of time. Even our wedding rings, I picked out alone. I was the “good girl.” My father was new money—a lottery winner turned investor. Without the old-money pedigree, I was always ostracized by the socialites. In high school, during a track meet, someone soaked my shirt with water. It was thin. My bra showed. The crowd laughed. One person handed me a jacket and pointed to the locker room. I looked up, but the tall figure was already walking away. The name tag on the jacket read: Senior Class A, Declan Sterling. I started watching him. I never thought I’d become his wife. I secretly hoped he might eventually fall for me. But reality was harsh. He wouldn’t. There was only one person in his heart. If Sloane hadn’t needed to flee the country due to a family scandal, he never would have married me. 4 I deleted the photo and went down to dinner. Seven o’clock. Declan wasn’t back. When he wasn’t traveling, he usually came home for dinner. I waited a long time, only to get a call. “I’m not coming home tonight. I was in a meeting, forgot to text.” In the background, a woman’s voice. Soft, sweet, telling him to get in the car. It was Sloane. I swallowed the lump in my throat, playing the role of the understanding wife. “Okay. Remember to eat.” I was about to hang up. He suddenly asked: “You aren’t going to ask why?” “I know you’re busy.” Busy dating your childhood sweetheart. I knew Sloane sent the photo. She was hinting that it was time for me to leave. Declan seemed bothered by my calm tone. “What’s wrong with you lately? Is this about your birthday?” “…” So what if it is? His devotion to Sloane was common knowledge in New York. My silence made him panic, which was rare. “Harper, don’t overthink that night. I’ll explain when I get back.” “Okay.” I hung up. I picked up my fork, but nausea hit me instantly. I ran to the powder room to avoid the maids and vomited. Looking at my pale reflection, seeing the faint spots from pregnancy… I wasn’t as pretty as Sloane. Now, I wasn’t as “clean” either. If Declan found out… What would he think? He’d probably be disgusted.

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