I woke up from a nap in Alec Chase’s office to find several large words stamped on my face. “PORK QUALITY, GRADE A.” Alec’s assistant, Ivy Jiang, stood over me holding a meat stamper, a smirk playing on her lips. “Little heiresses like you should just stay home and be pretty. Stop coming to the office and bothering the rest of us while we’re trying to work.” I hurled my teacup at the wall. Shards of porcelain sprayed towards her like shrapnel. In the next instant, Alec practically flew into the room, pulling her into a protective embrace. He shot me a frown, his voice tight with irritation. “Ivy’s young, Seraphina. It was just a joke. Do you really have to get this worked up?” My eyes were fixed on the open collar of his shirt. There, just above his collarbone, was a faint red mark. He’d been working late for three straight nights. Ivy peeked out from behind his shoulder, sticking her tongue out playfully. Her voice was deceptively innocent. “Alec was worried I’d get bored, so he had a bunch of these fun stamps made for me to pass the time.” “I was just messing with you, Sera. You’re not going to be that petty, are you?” 1 My attention remained on the mark on his collarbone. I felt the blood in my veins turn to ice. I opened my mouth, but my throat was dust-dry. “Alec. What is that?” He froze, his gaze following mine. The color drained from his face. He took a half-step towards me, his lips parting as if to speak. “I did that,” Ivy’s voice cut in, sharp and sweet, with a hint of a playful pout. Alec’s advance halted. His eyes, however, stayed locked on mine as Ivy continued, a smug little smile in her voice. “Last time, Alec was in a meeting for four hours, and I was so bored waiting. I figured I’d give him a little stamp of his own. As a punishment, you know?” For some reason, this made Alec laugh. He reached out and ruffled Ivy’s hair, his tone one of fond exasperation. “You’ve got a lot of nerve. You did that in front of the entire board of directors. I’ve never been so embarrassed.” The office fell silent. All I could hear was a low ringing in my ears. Alec had always been devoted to me, yielding on almost everything. But there was one thing he never compromised on: his work. He was meticulous, almost severe about it, and never allowed anyone to disturb him. But now, it seemed he had learned to bend his own rules to keep another girl happy. A bitter, acidic feeling crept up from my chest into my throat. Before I could speak, I heard the hushed whispers of a few young women from the hallway. “They said Mr. Chase’s wife is in his office. I’d love to see what she looks like!” “I heard that when he proposed, there was a sea of flowers, and five hundred drones created a meteor shower that spelled out her name in the sky.” “I’m so jealous. He’s been so good to her for ten years straight. I have to deliver these files to him, maybe I can sneak a peek!” The girls reached the doorway and stopped, surprised to find it ajar. Then they looked up and saw my face. The meticulous makeup I had applied that morning was completely obscured by the humiliating, bold letters. Their chatter died instantly. The smiles froze on their faces, their eyes wide with shock. The silence in the room became heavy, suffocating. Only Ivy let out a soft little laugh. Alec’s brow furrowed, as if only now realizing how insulting the words on my face truly were. He instinctively moved to stand in front of Ivy. “Ivy, apologize.” Ivy’s eyes immediately turned red. Her voice rose, thick with tears. “Why should I have to apologize?” “You’re the one who had these stamps made for me because you were worried I’d be bored!” “You said I could stamp whatever I wanted, that it was just for fun! And now you’re going to let her humiliate me like this? Force me to apologize?” Alec grabbed her wrist, his frown deepening. “Ivy!” She yanked her arm away, her body trembling with sobs. “Don’t touch me!” “You’re both ganging up on me! You just look down on me, don’t you? I make one little joke and suddenly it’s all my fault!” She was crying so hard her words came out in hiccupping gasps. “Fine! It’s my fault! A normal person like me isn’t worthy of joking with important people like you! I’ll just leave, okay?” She turned and made a dash for the door. “Ivy!” Alec’s voice was stern now. He caught up to her in two strides, grabbing her arm. He looked at her tear-streaked face, his expression complex, and finally let out a sigh. His tone softened. “Stop making a scene. It’s not a big deal. Look at you.” He turned back to me, his brow still knitted, his voice weary. “Ivy’s just a kid. She doesn’t know any better. I’ll apologize to you on her behalf.” “Seraphina, can you just let it go, please?” 2 A bitter smirk twisted my lips. The blue ink felt like it was seeping into my skin, a hot, chemical burn of shame on my cheeks. Alec let go of Ivy and walked toward me. He pulled a few tissues from the box on his desk, his voice softening a fraction. “Alright, don’t be angry. Weren’t you the one who asked me to take care of Ivy in the first place?” “She’s just immature. She likes to play around.” My nails dug into my palms. The sting was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. He was right. I was the one who had taken pity on Ivy. When she’d come to me in tears, begging me to sponsor her education, my heart had softened. I brought her out of that small, dead-end town where boys were valued and girls were afterthoughts. I not only paid for her schooling but also arranged for her to intern at Alec’s company. In those early days, Alec complained to me constantly. He said Ivy couldn’t figure out the copy machine, spilled coffee every time she made it, and delivered files to the wrong floor. He’d rub his temples and whine playfully. “Seraphina, you’ve really saddled me with a project. I spend half my day cleaning up her messes.” I had laughed at him then, told him he was being impatient and too harsh on a newcomer. I always believed that giving someone a helping hand was a good deed. I just never imagined that the person I had personally pulled out of the mud would one day use my face as a stepping stone to reach for things she could never have grasped on her own. Alec sighed and stepped in front of me, raising a hand to wipe the words from my face. But the blue ink was oil-based; rubbing it only made it worse. It smeared into a massive blue-black smudge, spreading from my cheek to my chin, even getting into my hair and the corner of my mouth. I could only imagine what I looked like. My carefully styled hair was a mess, my face a grotesque swirl of ink and ruined makeup. A clown. Ivy clapped a hand over her mouth, but a snort of laughter escaped. The triumph in her eyes was impossible to hide. “Alec!” she chirped. “I almost forgot, the charity auction starts in twenty minutes. We have to go.” At her words, Alec’s expression sharpened. He glanced at his watch and then turned back to me. “She’s right, we’re out of time.” “Seraphina, I was going to take you to pick out some new jewelry, but we’ll have to reschedule.” “Go home for now, okay? We’ll talk properly when I get back tonight.” He walked to the door, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “Seraphina. Be good. Wait for me at home.” Ivy was right beside him. The moment she turned her back to me, she shot me a look over her shoulder, her lips curling into a swift, sharp smirk. It held not a trace of apology, only pure, unadulterated provocation. He pulled the door open. I watched Alec’s back as he left with her, without a moment’s hesitation. The last bit of warmth in my heart fizzled out. “Alec.” “If this is how you handle things…” “I’m not satisfied.” “And I will handle this in my own way.” He finally turned back. His face was impassive, as if he thought this was just another one of my tantrums. He even managed a small, patronizing smile. “Alright, Seraphina.” “Don’t overthink it. Just wait for me to get back.” He opened the door and left with Ivy. The door didn’t latch properly, and their voices drifted in from the hallway. First was Ivy’s hushed tone, laced with carefully crafted worry. “Alec… Seraphina is so spoiled and arrogant, and her family is so powerful… If she really decides to come after me, what… what am I going to do?” Then came Alec’s voice, quiet but clear enough for me to hear every word. “She’s just angry. She’ll get over it.” “Besides,” his voice held a casual, confident certainty that chilled me to the bone. “As long as I’m here, who could possibly hurt you?” “She saves all her fire for me. It’s all for show. Look how a few words from her scared you.” Their footsteps faded away. The only ones left in the office were the shell-shocked young assistants, their eyes now full of pity. I tiredly covered the words on my face and spoke softly. “Excuse me. Could one of you lend me a mask, or a hat?” One of the girls hesitated for a moment before handing me a new disposable mask. “This one is clean.” I glanced at her name tag, my voice catching in my throat. “Thank you. I’ll remember you.” Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly stepped back. I hid my face behind the mask and pulled a borrowed cap down low. I left the building and got into my car. I sent a text to the Lin family, the hosts of tonight’s auction. Tonight, Alec Chase will be attending with an assistant named Ivy Jiang. Send her to me. In the city’s elite circle, everyone was desperate for a chance to get on my good side. Ivy had just handed the Lins that chance on a silver platter. Then I made another call. “Find a shop that makes custom stamps.” “I need one hundred ‘PORK QUALITY’ stamps. And I want the ink to be the brightest red you can find. The kind that never washes out.” 3 The car had barely pulled up to the villa when Benson, our house manager, rushed out to meet me. “Mr. Chase came by a little while ago. He said he was taking Miss Jiang to the charity auction tonight and she needed a suitable gown.” “He… he took her directly to your dressing room, ma’am.” My stomach dropped, but I kept my voice steady. “Which dress did she take?” Benson took a deep breath, clearly suppressing his own fury. “The ‘Starry Sea’ gown.” My breath caught. Starry Sea. The gown I wore to our engagement party. It wasn’t a designer piece. Alec had sketched the design himself and hired the finest master tailor to sew it by hand, stitch by stitch. The bodice was adorned with hundreds of natural blue sapphires of varying sizes. He had told me it looked like he’d plucked the stars from the night sky and draped them over me. The value of that dress could never be measured in money. It was a promise, a part of the grand, brilliant dream Alec had once woven for me with his own hands. I closed my eyes. I could still see the light in his eyes on our engagement day as he watched me put it on. “All the good luck I’ve ever had in my life,” he’d said, “was just to lead me to you, Seraphina.” I had never doubted the sincerity of Alec’s love for me back then. It was only in this moment that I finally understood how fleeting sincerity could be. I sank onto the sofa, exhausted. A maid immediately appeared with a basin of warm water and a soft towel, carefully beginning to wipe the marks from my face. The water was changed several times, and the rubbing started to chafe my skin. But the blue letters seemed to have stained me permanently, leaving behind a faint, greenish shadow, like a birthmark that would never fade. My phone started vibrating wildly. A dozen messages from my best friend, Chloe. That bitch Ivy! Has she lost her mind? Below the message was a link and a photo that was clearly going viral. In the picture, my face was turned to the side, my expression caught in a moment of shock and fury. The words “PORK QUALITY, GRADE A” were stark and blindingly clear. My hair was a mess, my makeup ruined. I looked utterly defeated. The caption was from Ivy’s account. A single sentence with a laughing emoji. Some people just get so serious when they get older. It was just a little joke! And another comment right below it: Youth is great, you can play around with no consequences~ Chloe’s call came through immediately. “It’s all over our social circles, Sera. I know the words themselves aren’t that bad, but…” She trailed off. I knew what she meant. But my reputation is in tatters. I opened my mouth to tell her I was fine, but my throat felt clogged with waterlogged cotton. No sound came out. I took a sharp breath, trying to keep my voice even. “I’ll handle it.” I hung up. Almost at the same instant, I heard footsteps outside. A dozen men in black suits entered, dragging a bound Ivy with them and throwing her onto the floor. She scrambled to sit up, her head snapping towards me. “Seraphina Ning, is this all you know how to do? Use your family’s power to bully people?” “What are you without your family? Nothing!” I slowly rose from the sofa and looked down at her. I even managed a small laugh. “My full name, Ivy, is Seraphina.” She stared, confused by the non-sequitur. “In our circles,” I explained softly, “a name like that… it means that child was born to be treasured. She doesn’t have to fight and claw her way up like a boy. She doesn’t have to go into business or politics. Her only job in this life is to enjoy it.” I paused, watching the color drain from Ivy’s face. “And I’m sure you’ve heard what the name ‘Ning’ signifies in this city.” Her lips began to tremble. Of course, she knew. In this city, the Ning family represented a world so far above her she couldn’t even glimpse it on her tiptoes. Ivy pushed herself up, her voice shaky. “So… so what if I wore one of your dresses? It’s not a big deal! I’ll give it back!” She fumbled with the zipper on the gown. “Don’t bother.” “I have no use for soiled clothes.” I stood up and walked slowly towards her, looking down from my full height. “And I, Seraphina Ning…” “Have no use for soiled people.” Ivy froze, her hand hovering over the zipper, her face completely ashen. A heavy cardboard box was carried into the room. It was filled to the brim with pork quality stamps. I gave my security a nod. One of them picked up a stamp, dipped it in a pad of crimson ink, and pressed it firmly onto Ivy’s calf. She screamed. One by one, the stamps fell, covering her arms, her neck, and her face in livid red marks. Her screams turned to pleas, then to whimpers, and finally to silence. One hundred stamps. Not one less. When the last one was done, she was a crumpled heap on the floor, her skin a grotesque canvas of red letters. I wiped my hands, my voice light. “I forgot to tell you. The ink is custom-made. It will never wash off. It will be with you for the rest of your life.” “I was just playing a joke on you. You’re not upset, are you, Ms. Jiang?”

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My brother was diagnosed with a tumor. The doctor said if he’d come in a day later, he’d be dead. The surgery was $200,000. After three days of calling everyone he knew, my father had only managed to borrow $80,000. I went to my uncle’s house. He was in the living room counting cash from a recent property buyout—eight million dollars, stacked high on his coffee table. The moment I explained why I was there, my aunt slammed the door in my face. “Lend you money? In your dreams! Do you think our money grows on trees?” From inside, my uncle yelled, “Tell her to give up! They won’t get a single cent from us!” I stayed outside his door all night. By morning, I had knelt until my knees were bruised black and blue. In the end, it was my colleagues who crowdfunded the money for the surgery. Ten days later, at my cousin’s wedding, the hotel kitchen exploded. The bride was permanently disfigured. My uncle came to me, sobbing, begging me to pull some strings and find an expert. “We’re family! You have to help us!” I clutched my phone, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Family? Are you sure about that?” 1 The phone slipped from my grasp, clattering against the hospital’s ice-cold linoleum floor. I didn’t bother to pick it up. My brother, Paul, had something growing in his brain. The doctor had just told me the tumor had ruptured. It was pressing on a critical nerve. Another day, and he would have been gone. Surgery was the only option, and it had to happen now. The cost: two hundred thousand dollars. My father, Daniel, was crumpled in a corner at the end of the hallway like a discarded piece of newspaper. His graying hair was a mess, and the cigarette in his hand had burned out. A small graveyard of cigarette butts lay at his feet. “Nina,” he rasped, looking up at me. His bloodshot eyes were clouded with tears. “The money… there’s not enough.” He opened a black plastic bag and showed me the contents. It was filled with crumpled bills—tens, twenties, fifties, with a few hundreds on top. The money was worn and carried the faint smells of sweat, smoke, and dirt. “I spent three days calling everyone. The guys at the factory, relatives back home, anyone who would listen.” He held up eight fingers, then let his hand fall limply to his side. “Eighty thousand. That’s all I could get.” Eighty thousand. We were still one hundred and twenty thousand short. The red light above the operating room door glared at me like the eye of a demon. A nurse bustled out. “Family of Paul Brooke, when will the fee be paid? If it’s not settled soon, we’ll have to stop his medication.” A shiver shot through me, my blood turning to ice. I rushed to the observation window and peered inside at my brother. His face was ghostly pale, his lips colorless. Tubes snaked from his body, and the lines on the monitor beside him beat with a faint, fragile rhythm. He was only twenty-eight. He’d never been married, had never really had a chance to see the world. “Nina,” my dad said, pulling himself up along the wall. He stumbled over to me, his lips trembling. “Maybe… maybe we should go see your uncle?” My uncle, Harold. My father’s own brother. The name was a needle piercing my heart. “I heard,” my dad continued, his voice barely a whisper, “that they got a huge payout for their old property. Eight million dollars.” Eight million. A number so large I couldn’t even picture it. My uncle’s cruel face and his wife’s acidic stare flashed in my mind. They had looked down on our family my entire life. My dad was a simple man, my mom’s health was poor, and we were always struggling. Every visit to their house felt like we were begging for scraps. “Dad, they won’t lend it to us,” I said, my voice hoarse. “We have to try, Nina! We have to! It’s your brother’s life on the line!” He grabbed my arm, his nails digging into my skin. “I’m begging you. Please.” For my brother’s life. Those five words shattered what was left of my pride and hesitation. I nodded. Half an hour later, my dad’s battered old electric scooter brought us to the gates of a lavish, gated community. The security guard stopped us, his eyes dripping with disdain. After my father bowed and scraped his way through an explanation, the guard grudgingly let us pass. My uncle lived in a ground-floor home with a large yard. We could hear the clatter of poker chips and raucous laughter from the driveway. “Full house! Pay up, pay up!” That was my aunt Brenda’s voice. “Wow, Harold, what a winning streak! With Lily’s wedding next week, it’s like good fortune is raining down on you!” a man’s voice flattered. I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. The music and laughter paused. The door creaked open, and my aunt Brenda peered out. She wore a silk pajama set, her hair in perfect curls. The moment she saw us, the smile vanished from her face, replaced by a look of pure disgust, as if she were staring at a pile of garbage. “Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” she sneered, leaning against the doorframe and sizing us up. My dad forced a smile that was more painful than a grimace. “Brenda, we… we need to talk to Harold about something.” Brenda didn’t invite us in. She just opened the door a little wider. Through the gap, I saw it. Under a massive crystal chandelier, on a mahogany coffee table, sat stacks of hundred-dollar bills. A mountain of red-banded cash. The eight million dollars. The sight of it was blinding. Swallowing my humiliation, I spoke, my voice trembling. “Aunt Brenda, my brother… Paul is sick. He needs an emergency surgery, it costs two hundred thousand dollars. We were hoping… we could borrow some money to tide us over.” Brenda’s eyebrows shot up as if I’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Before she could speak, my uncle Harold shouted impatiently from the other room, “Who is it? What’s taking so long?” “Who do you think?” Brenda yelled back, her voice dripping with scorn. “It’s your deadbeat brother and his daughter. They’re here to borrow money.” I saw Harold get up from the poker table. A cigarette dangled from his lips, and in his hand, he held a small bowl of plump, dark cherries. The expensive kind, hundreds of dollars a pound. He sauntered to the door, spat out a pit, and barely bothered to look at us. “Borrow money?” he scoffed. “How much?” My dad rushed to answer. “Two hundred thousand! Harold, I’m begging you, please, save Paul’s life!” Harold finally lifted his gaze to meet ours. He looked at us like we were two flies buzzing in his ear. “Two hundred thousand? Has your family gone completely insane?” Before he could say more, my aunt Brenda stepped forward and slammed the heavy oak door shut, the wood nearly smashing into my nose. “Lend you money? In your wildest dreams! Do you think we have money growing on trees?” her shrill voice cut through the door, thick with undisguised malice. “If he’s sick, he should just die! Don’t come here and spread your bad luck all over our family!” My dad’s face went white. I clenched my fists, my nails digging so deep into my palms I thought I might draw blood. From inside, Harold’s voice boomed, louder now, full of irritation and venom. “Tell her to give up! They won’t get a single cent from us! Tell them to get lost, right now! They’re an eyesore, and they’ll bring bad luck to my daughter’s wedding!” The door sealed us off from their world, and with it, sealed off my brother’s only path to survival. My dad swayed, as if all the strength had been sucked out of him. 2 “Harold! Open the door! Harold!” My dad started pounding on the cold steel door like a madman, the blows echoing in the quiet evening. “I’ll kneel! I’ll beg you on my hands and knees! Please, just save Paul!” And then he did it. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground before that closed door, bowing his head again and again, his forehead hitting the hard concrete with a sickening, hollow thud. “Dad! Get up!” My eyes burned as I rushed to pull him up. He shoved me away, tears streaming down his weathered face. “Nina, leave me be! As long as we can save your brother, my life means nothing!” Suddenly, the door cracked open. My uncle Harold’s face appeared in the gap. There was no pity in his eyes, only disgust and annoyance. He kicked out, not hard, but with a deliberate, humiliating slowness that landed on my father’s shoulder. “Are you going to get lost or not? Stop your damn wailing out here. It’s bad luck!” The kick sent my dad sprawling. A roar filled my ears, and all reason fled. I lunged forward, shielding my father with my body, and stared straight into Harold’s eyes. “He’s your own brother! Have you no soul?” “Soul?” Harold laughed as if it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. He pointed a thumb back into the house, toward the pile of cash. “Did a soul get me all this? Let me make it clear for you. Every single penny of this money is for my daughter Lily’s wedding of the century. Forget two hundred thousand, I wouldn’t give you two dollars!” Behind him, Brenda emerged with a broom and started swinging it at us as if we were vermin. “Get out! You two paupers! Bad omens! Get out!” Dust from the bristles flew into my face. My dad tried to shield me, taking a hard smack from the broom handle across his back with a muffled grunt. They drove us out of the yard like stray dogs, and the gate slammed shut behind us with a final, decisive click of the lock. The sky darkened. The city lights began to twinkle to life, one by one, but not a single one could pierce the darkness in my heart. I helped my dad to his feet. He was still muttering, “How could this happen… how could this happen…” We didn’t leave. My dad insisted we wait, that maybe their hearts would soften overnight. So we stood there, outside that cold iron gate. Two lonely sentinels, guarding an impossible miracle. Later that night, it began to rain. The icy drops soaked through my clothes, but I didn’t feel the cold. I was just numb. My dad was shivering, his lips turning purple. I begged him to go home, but he refused. All I could do was let him lean against me. I stared at the brightly lit house, the sounds of their laughter echoing like a cruel joke in my head. Slowly, I slid down the wall until I was sitting. Then, I straightened my spine and knelt on the wet, puddled ground. My father knelt for the bonds of blood and brotherhood. I knelt for the life of my brother, hanging by a thread. And so, father and daughter, we knelt outside my uncle’s house all through the night. The rain stopped at dawn. As the first light broke through the clouds, I realized I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. They were numb and shot through with a pain like a thousand needles. I looked down. My pants were soaked, clinging to my skin. At the knees, two horrifying patches of deep purple had bloomed through the fabric. With a creak, the gate opened. A flicker of hope ignited in my chest as I looked up. But it wasn’t my uncle, and it wasn’t my aunt. It was my cousin, Lily. She was dressed to the nines, a new designer bag looped over her arm. She froze when she saw us kneeling there, then her face twisted into an expression of utter disgust. She didn’t approach. She stood at a distance, pulled out her phone, and I heard the distinct click of the camera shutter. Then came the soft tapping of her fingers on the screen. A few seconds later, my phone vibrated. It was a notification from a distant relative, who had just shared Lily’s new post. The picture was of me and my dad, kneeling pathetically at her gate. The caption read: Some poor relatives are so shameless when they want money. Blocking our gate first thing in the morning. So gross! Anyway, off to get my nails done for my fabulous wedding! At that moment, my well of tears finally ran dry. I used the wall to haul myself to my feet. Every movement sent a jolt of agony through my knees. I watched Lily’s retreating back, the sway of her hips and the click of her heels, and the despair in my eyes slowly hardened into ice. I swore to myself, from this day forward, Nina Brooke would never beg anyone for anything ever again. Just then, my phone began to vibrate violently in my pocket. It was the hospital. I answered, and a nurse’s cold, clinical voice came through the line, sounding like a final judgment. “Is this the family of Paul Brooke? If you do not pay the surgical fee, we will be forced to cease all treatment as per regulations. This is your final notice. You have until 10 AM today.” The line went dead, and the world fell silent. 3 I dragged my broken body and my hollowed-out father back to the hospital. The hallway reeked of antiseptic, a smell that was cold and hopeless. At the nurses’ station, the nurse saw me, shook her head, and pointed at the billing statement. “Ma’am, you’re running out of time.” I stared at the paper, feeling the last of my strength drain away. Where else could I get the money? Sell a kidney? Take out a loan from a shark? As my mind went blank, the head of my department, Dr. Adler, appeared, walking quickly toward me with several of my colleagues. “Nina, what’s going on? You haven’t been answering your phone,” Dr. Adler said, his brow furrowed. He was in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair, but his eyes were always sharp. I lowered my head, my voice a broken whisper. “Dr. Adler, I…” I couldn’t get the words out. “I heard about your brother.” He glanced at me, then turned to the colleague beside him. “Is everyone notified?” “Yes, sir. Everyone in the department, and even a few of the families of patients Dr. Brooke has treated…” Before he could finish, my phone chimed. I pulled it out instinctively. It was a bank transfer notification. [Chase Bank: A direct deposit of $5,000.00 has been made to your checking account ending in XXXX.] I froze. Then, the chimes started coming one after another, a frantic, beautiful symphony. [Venmo: You’ve received $2,000.00.] [Zelle: You’ve received $800.00.] [Bank of America: A direct deposit of $10,000.00 has been made to your checking account.] The notifications poured in, a torrent of names—some were my colleagues, others were strangers. My hands began to shake. I looked up at Dr. Adler and the others. They were all smiling at me, their eyes full of encouragement. “Sir, this…” “I posted about your situation in our department’s group chat,” Dr. Adler said, his voice quiet but firm. “Nina, you’re a good doctor. You have a bright future. We’re not going to stand by and watch you get crushed by this.” The tears I had held back for so long finally broke free, fat drops splashing onto my phone screen, blurring the ever-climbing numbers. Less than half an hour later, my phone vibrated again. It was a message from the head nurse. She had sent a screenshot of the hospital’s internal employee relief fund page. The fundraiser had been started by Dr. Adler. Target Goal: $120,000. Current Progress: 100% Funded. In less than three hours, the impossible sum had been raised. I clutched my phone, sank to the floor, and buried my face in my knees, sobbing. These weren’t tears of despair. They were tears of rebirth. The surgical fee was paid immediately. The operation was a success. When the lead surgeon walked out of the OR, pulled off his mask, and said, “The patient is out of danger,” my father collapsed onto the floor in a heap. I leaned against the wall and let out a long, shuddering breath, feeling like I could finally breathe again. The next day, I went to see Paul in the ICU. He was still unconscious, but his vitals were stable. Dr. Adler came by on his rounds. After checking on my brother, he walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Nina, take some time to pull yourself together. You have real talent. Don’t waste it.” He looked at me, his eyes full of expectation. “There’s a national symposium on burn science in the capital next week. I want you to prepare a presentation. You’ll be representing me.” I was stunned. A conference of that caliber was something Dr. Adler always attended himself. Only the most senior attending physicians were ever invited to join him. “Dr. Adler, I…” “I trust you,” he interrupted. “Seize this opportunity. Learn everything you can. Don’t let anyone look down on you.” I nodded fiercely, a warm current spreading through my chest. It was then that I fully grasped it. My mentor, Dr. Adler, wasn’t just a respected figure in our city—he was one of the foremost experts in his field in the entire country. That evening, with my dad watching over Paul at the hospital, I went back to my apartment to grab a few things. My phone lit up. An electronic invitation from an unknown number. It was a gaudy, red-and-gold invitation with a picture of my cousin Lily and her fiancé. She was smiling, her expression arrogant. The host was my uncle, Harold. He actually had the gall to invite us to his daughter’s wedding. I knew what he was thinking. He wanted to parade his eight million dollars in front of all his poor relatives, to show off his daughter’s “wedding of the century.” I let out a cold laugh and was about to block the number. But then, a thought stopped me. Why not go? They had humiliated my father, ground his dignity into the dust. If I didn’t push back, I would choke on that bitterness for the rest of my life. I was going. I wanted them to see that we hadn’t been broken. My brother was alive. And I, Nina Brooke, was back on my feet. I walked to the mirror and looked at my reflection. The woman staring back was thin, her eyes shadowed and bloodshot. But deep within those eyes, the fragile, pleading weakness was gone. In its place was a cold, hard, and determined light. 4 The wedding was held at the city’s most luxurious six-star hotel. To show off, my uncle had booked the entire grand ballroom. The entrance was lined with a fleet of luxury cars—a Rolls-Royce, a Bentley, a Maybach. It looked more like an auto show than a wedding. Our family of three arrived on my dad’s old electric scooter, a stark contrast to our surroundings. The greeters at the door didn’t even try to hide their disdain. Inside the ballroom, a man in a tuxedo hurried over, a plastic smile plastered on his face. “And which side of the family are you with?” My dad gave our names. The man scanned his list for a long moment before finding us tucked away in a corner. His smile faded. He pointed to a small, isolated table. “You three can sit over there.” It was a spare table, shoved right next to the fire exit, a world away from the main seating area. It was like an island for exiles. There were no flowers, no fine china, not even a proper centerpiece. My dad’s face flushed a deep red. He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. My mom tugged on his sleeve and whispered, “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter where we sit.” I helped them to their seats, my heart a block of ice. The ceremony began. My uncle Harold, beaming, strode onto the stage. He was wearing an expensive custom-tailored suit and holding a microphone, his voice echoing through the hall. “Thank you, to all our friends, family, and esteemed guests, for taking the time out of your busy schedules to attend my daughter Lily’s wedding!” He paused for dramatic effect, then raised his voice. “A lot of people say old Harold got lucky, made a little money from a property deal. Well, I’ll tell you all today—it was eight million dollars! Not much, just a little pocket money for my daughter! Her wedding dress today? Eighty-eight thousand! Her jewelry? One hundred and twenty thousand! The cars outside? That’s over thirty grand a day just to rent!” The crowd responded with a chorus of feigned gasps and sycophantic applause. Harold reveled in it, waving his hand magnanimously. “So please, everyone, eat and drink to your heart’s content! No gifts necessary! I, Harold Brooke, can certainly afford it!” I watched him preening on stage, a wave of nausea washing over me. Soon, the bride, Lily, appeared in her diamond-encrusted gown, her arm linked with the groom’s. She began making her rounds, her face a mask of smug satisfaction. Like a peacock fanning its tail, she deliberately stopped near our table and said loudly to her friends, “Oh, look, even my poor relatives managed to show up.” A few of the garishly dressed women with her giggled into their hands. Lily walked over to our table and looked down at me, her eyes glinting with challenge. “Cousin, long time no see. I heard your brother was on death’s door? Did you even bring a gift today?” She spoke just loud enough for the surrounding tables to hear. Instantly, all eyes were on us, hungry for drama. My dad began to tremble. He reached into his pocket and shakily pulled out a small envelope. It was crumpled from being clutched in his hand for so long. “Lily, congratulations. This is… this is a small token from our family.” The envelope was thin. Inside was the two hundred dollars my mother had insisted we give. “We have to observe the proper etiquette,” she’d said. Lily didn’t even glance at it. She pinched the envelope between two fingers, her nails glittering, as if she were holding something foul. Then, she turned and whistled at a small, fluffy dog that was chewing on a bone nearby. “Waffles, fetch!” With a flick of her wrist, the envelope containing my parents’ dignity fluttered through the air and landed near the dog’s mouth. The dog sniffed it, then promptly tore it to shreds. A wave of laughter erupted from the nearby tables. My mother’s face went sheet-white. My dad, shaking with rage, shot to his feet. I placed a hand on his shoulder and gently shook my head. I looked at Lily’s triumphant face, feeling no anger, no urge to argue. I just watched her, as if she were a clown in a cheap circus. Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Dr. Adler. I stepped away to a quiet corner to answer. “Nina,” Dr. Adler’s voice was calm and steady. “You’re at the wedding at the Grand Majestic Hotel, right?”

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During the typhoon, my wife’s childhood friend called, claiming she was having miscarriage symptoms and demanding I rush to his private club. I was still groggy from an emergency appendectomy, so my father-in-law answered the phone. He grabbed the family’s heirloom medical kit and raced into the storm to save the child—but died in a horrific highway pile-up. By the time his body was brought to the hospital, it was too late. Nothing could be done. “Mike, you have to save Olivia’s baby… If she loses it… she’ll never be a mother again…” Even in his final moments, my father-in-law only thought of the child in her womb. He died with his eyes wide open, unpeaceful. Grief-stricken, I took the kit and rushed to the club—only to find Olivia and her friend Mason arm-in-arm, toasting. “Well, Liv,” Mason drawled, smirking. “Looks like your husband doesn’t love you that much. What’s your bet-losing punishment?” Olivia, flushed with wine, draped herself over him playfully. “Don’t worry,” she purred. “He’d crawl through hell for me—even if it rained knives!” Shock and rage washed over me. I stormed forward and grabbed her arm. “I thought you were miscarrying! How can you drink?” Olivia’s face turned icy. She splashed red wine in my face. “Wishing a miscarriage on me? Disgusting! Can’t you see we’re just playing a game?” She kissed Mason, then glanced back at me. “And that,” she said, “is your punishment for being late.” 1 Fury tore through my chest. “Olivia, you’re playing games with our unborn child’s life?” I choked out. “Your father was worried sick about you. He was in an accident on his way here!” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her he was dead, terrified of what the shock might do to her. Olivia snatched the medical kit from my hands, her voice sharp. “It’s Mason’s birthday. We’re celebrating. You didn’t even bring a gift, and you show up clutching my dad’s emergency kit? What are you doing, bringing your bad luck here?” she snapped. “Look at you, a complete mess. You call yourself a man?” My eyes burned, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides. “You need to come to the hospital with me. Something’s happened to your father.” Mason, enjoying the drama, chimed in with a lazy smirk. “What’s with that look? Like you’re about to explode. You don’t like what she said? You going to hit her?” he taunted. “She’s just celebrating my birthday. You have to curse your own kid and your father-in-law over it?” The contempt in his eyes was naked. I knew he was provoking me, trying to make Olivia angry so I’d be humiliated in front of everyone. In the past, to keep the peace, I would have bowed my head and apologized like a pathetic dog. But my father-in-law’s last words were still echoing in my head. She can never be a mother again. For a woman, losing the ability to have children is a uniquely cruel fate. This wasn’t the time for me to play the clown for their amusement. I just needed to make sure Olivia and the baby were okay, and then get her to the hospital to see her father one last time. “Olivia, come with me to the hospital. To see your dad!” It was the first time I hadn’t groveled before her in public. The onlookers smirked, waiting for the show. As expected, Olivia’s red lips parted, and the venom poured out. “Stop using my dad as an excuse for everything! We were playing a game. Is that a big enough deal for you to start wishing death on him?” she sneered. “You were too pathetic to show up on time, so I lost the game and had to take the punishment. Instead of apologizing, you come here and ruin Mason’s birthday party. For a grown man, you’re incredibly petty.” The room erupted in laughter. “Look at you, you pathetic loser. You don’t deserve a woman like Olivia.” “She’s a saint for not only marrying you but agreeing to have your baby!” “If I were married to Olivia, I’d worship her. If she told me to die, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second!” “You’re just some poor kid who married up, Mike. Who gave you the nerve to piss her off today? You’re playing with fire!” I’d heard the same insults for two years. I could recite them by heart. Ignoring them, I reached for Olivia’s wrist, wanting to check her pulse. If it was steady, a dark part of me wanted to tell her, right then and there, that her father was dead. And that it was her fault. Seeing me reach for her, Mason slapped my hand away with disgust. “You really think just because she’s pregnant, she’s yours for good? Let me tell you something, she’s a modern woman, not some property you own!” Mason always knew exactly which buttons to push. Her face flushed with anger. A second later, her palm cracked across my cheek. “Get off me!” she shrieked. “You think you’re worthy of touching me?” She wiped the hand that had struck me on her dress, as if she’d just touched something filthy. Mason laughed. “Since you’re clearly not here to celebrate, how about you get the hell out? And I mean crawl.” The memory of a time she’d actually forced me to crawl out of a party flooded back, a humiliating fire that burned away the last of my sanity. My fist, clenched tight, shot out and connected with Mason’s mocking face. “You son of a bitch,” I roared. “You can play any game you want, but you don’t joke with people’s lives! You killed my father-in-law! I’ll turn your birthday into your death day!” 2 My punch was fast and vicious. Mason staggered back, blood pouring from his nose. The crowd immediately grabbed me, pulling me away as Olivia rushed to Mason’s side. “Mase, are you okay? Does it hurt?” The raw concern in her eyes was something I had never seen directed at me. She gently dabbed at the blood on his face like he was some priceless treasure, terrified of hurting him. Then she turned, grabbed a beer bottle, and slammed it into my stomach. The impact landed directly on my fresh surgical incision. Stars exploded behind my eyes, but the physical agony was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, but Olivia didn’t seem to notice. “Mike, are you insane? You hit Mason? If you can’t live like this anymore, then let’s get a divorce!” To make sure I didn’t “go crazy” again, several men in the room pinned my arms behind my back, holding me like a criminal. I struggled, humiliation fueling my strength, but it was no use. Defeated, I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “Your father was killed in a car accident trying to get here to help you. He’s at the hospital right now, waiting for you to see him one last time. If you just come with me to see him, I’ll sign the divorce papers immediately.” Olivia’s eyes blazed. It was clear she didn’t believe a word. She slapped me again, once on each cheek. “Mike, I am ordering you to get on your knees and apologize to Mason!” she commanded. “If you don’t, I’ll tell my father you wished death on him!” Someone kicked the back of my knees. Already weak from the pain in my abdomen, my legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor. Laughter filled the room. “I thought you had a backbone for a second there! Look how fast he kneels!” Mason’s taunt was met with a chorus of agreement. “We were just playing a game, and you get so bent out of shape you curse your own father-in-law to death. And after Dr. Adler treated you like his own son!” “He took you in and this is how you repay him? What an ungrateful bastard!” … I felt a warm wetness spreading from my abdomen, and the room began to spin. All I could hear was “Dr. Adler, Dr. Adler,” and all I could see was his face as he died in front of me. “Olivia! If you don’t believe me, just call the hospital! Why would I lie about something like this?” When she forced me to my knees, whatever was left of my love for her died. All I wanted now was to make sure her father didn’t have to face the end alone. For a moment, she hesitated. She pulled out her phone, about to make the call, but then Mason let out a low groan. She immediately dropped her phone and rushed to his side. “Mase! What’s wrong?” Mason touched his nose, which had already stopped bleeding, and looked at her with lovesick eyes. “My nose… it’s really throbbing…” “He must have broken it. Mase, we need to go to the hospital!” Mason just pointed to his own lips with a playful, possessive smile. “I’m a big boy, I can handle a little pain. All I need is a kiss to make it better.” He shot a triumphant, challenging glance at me. “Although,” he added, “I’m afraid someone might lose his mind and try to kill me.” Olivia glared at me, then, without a shred of hesitation, she leaned in and kissed him. Mason immediately pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. From my knees on the floor, I could clearly see the thin strand of saliva that connected their lips as they parted. I felt nothing. No anger, no jealousy. Just a vast, cold emptiness. When they finally broke apart, Olivia was blushing like a bride, her eyes soft and dreamy. But the moment her gaze met mine, her expression turned to ice. “This is your punishment for being impulsive,” she said coldly. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson. Next time, I don’t know if there will be anything I can do to make it up to him for you.” 3 The room erupted in laughter again. Everyone understood her meaning. This time it was a public kiss. Next time, it would be her in his bed. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Are you really not going to the hospital to see your father one last time?” Furious, Olivia picked up her phone to call her dad, but she also aimed a kick at me. She put so much force into it that she lost her balance, and the phone flew from her hand, its screen going black as it hit the floor. Mason was quick, catching her by the waist before she could fall. “Liv, calm down. Getting angry isn’t good for you. Remember, you’re pregnant!” he soothed. “For my sake, just let him go. I don’t want my birthday to be ruined by all this negativity.” His magnanimous words only seemed to make Olivia angrier, her chest heaving. But wrapped in his arms, she slowly calmed down. “See?” she said, looking at me with contempt. “That’s the difference between you and Mason. You broke his nose, and he’s still defending you. But you throw a tantrum over a simple game!” She turned to Mason. “Mase, have security escort him out. I don’t want to see his face again.” With Olivia’s permission, Mason was more than happy to grind me into the dirt. He signaled for the guards. Her kick had torn my wound open. Blood was now steadily seeping through my shirt. “Liv, I think something’s really wrong with Mike!” one of the girls finally pointed out. I used to be tough. Now, even in the dim light of the club, my face was as white as a ghost’s. Olivia didn’t even glance at me. “Don’t worry about him. He’s faking it.” As I was dragged out and dumped into the pouring rain, the club behind me was still alive with music and laughter. The pulsing beat mixed with the drumming of the rain, sounding like a funeral dirge, mocking me for ever thinking I deserved better. I clutched my father-in-law’s medical kit, letting the storm wash over me. If I hadn’t had appendicitis, I would have been the one to answer that call. All Mason and his friends wanted was to humiliate me. He knew that when it came to Olivia, I’d lose all sense of reason, especially now that she was two months pregnant. Fate had played a cruel joke. I was still under anesthesia when my father-in-law, in his frantic love for his daughter, rushed headlong into disaster. He died trying to save my child. He died in my place. The thought that I was partly responsible for his death was a guilt that threatened to drown me. But pain couldn’t kill me. My father-in-law was waiting for me to handle his final affairs. I closed my heavy eyes and waited for the ambulance to arrive. Olivia never showed up. Not while I was recovering, not for the funeral arrangements. It was as if she had vanished from the face of the earth. A colleague at the hospital asked me, “Why wasn’t Olivia at Dr. Adler’s funeral?” I stared at a photo on my phone—her and Mason on a beach in Bali, wrapped in each other’s arms. “She had something important to do,” I said quietly. My colleague nodded sympathetically. “Of course. She just found out she was pregnant. A shock like this… it’s better for her to focus on the baby.” I let out a hollow laugh and didn’t correct him. The day I was discharged from the hospital, I had barely walked through the door of our apartment when she returned. “Mike, I’m home!” She stood by her suitcase, her eyes full of expectation. I knew what she was waiting for. Normally, the moment she got home, I’d rush to replace her heels with slippers, then sweep her up in my arms, carry her to the couch, and massage her feet. It was our ritual, one of the many habits born from years of love. But ever since Mason had returned to the country as the heir to his family’s fortune, she had pulled away. No more playful affection, no more casual touching. All those small, loving habits had become things she despised. Over the last two years, I had gone from confusion to withdrawal to this. A heart of cold, dead ash. I watched the hope in her eyes slowly fade, truly baffled by what she was thinking. Did she really believe that after forcing me to kneel, after having me beaten and thrown out like trash, after running off to Bali with her childhood sweetheart, all it would take was one sweet word to erase the humiliation and bring us back to how we were? My eyes began to sting. 4 After a few seconds of silence, Olivia walked over to me, her eyes welling with tears. I didn’t even look at her. She sighed, then climbed onto my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Are you still angry about the other day? Are you not even going to comfort your favorite wife?” she whispered. “You know Mason’s friends are all rich kids. Their games are always over the top. If I didn’t play along, I’d never fit in. When you made that scene, I had to do something to smooth things over. If I hadn’t, those guys could have made one call and gotten you fired, let alone blocked your promotion to attending physician.” This was my favorite position, her in my lap. But now, all I could smell was the faint scent of a man’s cologne on her skin, and my stomach churned. I held my breath and pushed her off me. Olivia bit her lip, looking even more wounded. “Why do you always get so angry over such small things? I’m carrying our child. If you won’t even take care of me, the least you can do is not make things harder. Now I have to be the one to comfort you? You’re going to be a father, Mike. Grow up.” A game. A man’s life. I was nearly killed by a kick from her. And she thought I should just pretend nothing happened and comfort her? “You were playing a game, so why did you have to drag me into it?” I asked, my voice flat. “If you two had ended up in bed, would you have expected me to kneel beside you and serve you?” “You killed your own father trying to climb into some so-called high society. What gives you the right to ask me for comfort?” At my continued “cursing” of her father, the few tears in her eyes vanished. Her beautiful face hardened. “My father is an old man. Can’t you show a little respect?” she snapped. “I can get into that circle because Mason and I have been friends since we were kids. If there was really something going on between us, would I be having your baby?” It was the first time she had argued with me so calmly, her tone almost like a lover’s quarrel. Her good mood was probably thanks to her vacation with Mason. She opened her suitcase and pulled out a pair of expensive-looking cufflinks. “I picked these out for you on my trip. They’re for your birthday. I was supposed to be back yesterday to celebrate with you, but my flight was canceled. A day late is better than never.” How thoughtful of her to remember my birthday amidst all her fun. As for the gift, it belonged in the trash. I had seen these cufflinks before, on Mason’s social media. They were a birthday gift from someone trying to suck up to him. He didn’t like them, so he’d posted that they were free to a good home. And Olivia had brought them back for me. She couldn’t even be bothered to spend a single penny on me, yet she expected me to be grateful for her trash. When I tossed the cufflinks into the garbage can, her patience finally ran out. “Mike, don’t push your luck!” Without thinking, I shot back, “Better than you, running off on a honeymoon with Mason while your father’s body isn’t even cold in the ground!” Mason’s social media had been filled with intimate photos of them, captioned: “Honeymoon Day 1.” “Honeymoon Day 2.” … She didn’t even flinch at being caught. She just stomped her high heel down on my foot, her face contorted with rage. “Mike, I knew you were heartless, but I didn’t realize your soul was black too!” she shrieked. “Mason was right! The moment I got pregnant, you showed your true colors!” “And I actually defended you to everyone! I told them you would always love me, always treat me right! But what do you do? You curse my father to death, over and over!” “Mason was just testing you for me, with that little game! Not only were you late, but you made a huge scene! And now I lower myself to come home and comfort you, and you’re still acting like this!” “I never should have gotten pregnant with your child! You don’t deserve it!” With that, she grabbed her suitcase and slammed the door behind her. I shook my head and laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. Did she really think that after disappearing for half a month, she could come back with Mason’s garbage, spew a few condescending words, and I would just forgive her? She still had me blocked. She didn’t even know her own father had been buried for over a week. Two hours later, I received a photo from Mason. It was a medical form for an abortion procedure, signed by Olivia. Next to it was a picture of her, her face pale, but a small, triumphant smile on her lips. In that moment, a strange lightness settled over me. A heavy chain had finally snapped. The baby was gone. I could no longer fulfill my father-in-law’s dying wish. This marriage was over. 5 On my father-in-law’s birthday, I brought a bouquet of his favorite jasmine and white roses to his grave. I never expected to run into Olivia and Mason there. “Mike! Are you sick in the head?” she screamed, her eyes red with fury as she saw the name ‘Daniel Adler’ on the tombstone in front of me. “My father is alive and well! It wasn’t enough for you to curse him to death, now you’ve built him a tombstone? How can you be so vile?” She stomped on the flowers, crushing them into the dirt. “Who is this short-lived lover of yours that you dare to bury her in the plot my father bought for himself?” For a moment, I had no idea what she was talking about. Wasn’t she here to apologize to her father? She continued to shriek at my confused face. “Mike, just because I got rid of your baby, you’re going to humiliate my father like this?” “Why did you stop him from saving someone yesterday? Because of you, because you and my father refused to help, Mason’s great-aunt missed her window for emergency treatment, and now she’s dead!” “You’re the one who’s petty and forgot your duty as a doctor, so why drag my dad down with you? He must be so consumed with guilt that he’s disappeared! It serves your dead whore right!” I was completely lost. But one thing was clear. She wasn’t here to apologize or to visit her father. I pointed at the tombstone, my voice calm against her storm of rage. “Your father died two weeks ago, Olivia. You didn’t ask, you didn’t care. Now, someone feeds you a line, and you rush here to slander his name. You’re a truly filial daughter.” Mason snapped his fingers. Two large men grabbed me, holding me still. He held a phone in front of my face. On the screen, a video played. Two men in white coats, one old and one young, were rushing down a street with medical kits. They passed an elderly person collapsed on the ground. They seemed to argue, and then the young doctor pulled the older one away. A moment later, the young doctor was seen kissing a woman. The builds of the men, the medical kits… they looked exactly like me and my father-in-law. The timestamp on the video was from the previous day. Two hours after Olivia’s abortion. “If you want revenge, take it out on me! If you want a divorce, fine!” she screamed. “But my father has spent his entire life saving people! He shouldn’t be consumed with guilt over your mistake! And he most certainly shouldn’t have his final resting place occupied by some cheap slut!” “Do it!” she commanded. “Dig up that bitch’s ashes! I’m going to scatter them to the wind myself!” One of Mason’s men produced a shovel from his car. I struggled, roaring, “Olivia! That’s your father’s grave! You can’t do this!” Seeing my distress only fueled her hatred. “No wonder you don’t care about me anymore! This woman has stolen your soul, even in death!” she spat. “Since you care so much, then I’ll make sure to destroy her completely! This is the price you pay for betraying me and humiliating my father!” I snatched a shovel from one of the men and swung it wildly. “Anyone who touches that grave, I swear to god, I’ll take you down with me!” But it was five against one. They quickly overpowered me, pinning me to the ground and beating me mercilessly. The others, including Olivia, began to dig. When she finally pulled the urn from the earth, her face was twisted into a triumphant, grotesque smile. I used the last of my strength to plead with her. “Olivia, don’t! Those are your father’s ashes!” But she wasn’t listening. I watched, my eyes burning, a taste of blood rising in my throat, as she opened the urn and threw my father-in-law’s ashes into the wind. “See that, Mike?” she shrieked. “That’s what happens when someone tries to steal my father’s grave!” As she raised the empty urn to smash it on the ground, a furious voice boomed from behind us. “Olivia! What are you doing?” “What have you done to your father’s grave?!”

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1 The doctor’s eyes were filled with pity as I swallowed the painkiller. Three days left to live. After taking the pill, I walked to Lily Ashton’s room. Inside, my father was peeling an orange for her while my mother chatted at her bedside. The moment I walked in, the warm smiles on their faces froze, replaced by a chilling indifference. “What, done faking your little act and ready to cause more trouble for Lily?” my father’s voice was like ice. “Let me tell you, Keira, as long as we’re here, you won’t lay a hand on her.” “The Sterlings have always prided themselves on their principles,” my mother chimed in, pointing a finger at me. “I don’t know where you learned to be so rotten, so jealous you’d steal her spot in the chemo trial.” Her voice cracked with disgust. “I wish I’d never had you!” In a corner my parents couldn’t see, Lily smirked at me, her eyes gleaming with triumph. I lowered my gaze. I’d heard these words a thousand times before. In the past, I would have fought back, screamed, tried to expose Lily for the snake she was, even though they never believed a word I said. But I was tired. I didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. “Still, it’s good you’re here,” my father said, breaking the silence. “There’s something I need to discuss with you.” A hollow smile touched my lips. “Funny, Dad. I have something to tell you, too.” I took a breath. “Lily wants my company and the retail shops, doesn’t she? I’ve thought it over. They’re hers.” My father stared, stunned. My mother’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How did you know I was going to bring that up today? You… you agree?” I gave a slight shrug. Their shock was understandable. Lily had been coveting my assets for years, and my parents had tried everything—pleading, threatening, shaming—to make me hand over the business I’d built from the ground up. I’d never budged. But for a dying woman, none of it mattered anymore. Seeing the resolve in my eyes, my mother’s face finally softened into a relieved smile. She stepped forward, her hand patting my head in a rare gesture of affection. “You’ve finally come to your senses!” she cooed. “Lily was always brighter than you, even in school. And despite her illness, she has a much better head for business. We’ll rest easy knowing your company is in her capable hands.” The corner of my mouth twitched. I pulled the transfer agreements from my bag and handed them to Lily. As soon as Lily’s signature was on the page, my parents were all over me, grabbing my hands, calling me their good girl, their wonderful daughter. A bitter irony churned in my stomach. How pathetic. The only time my mother smiled at me was when I surrendered something to Lily. A question flickered in my mind. When they finally saw Lily’s true colors, after I was gone, would they feel a single shred of regret? That evening, I returned home to find my husband, Lucas, and our daughter, Chloe, laughing together in the kitchen. The cancer had made me move quietly, and the soft click of the door went unnoticed. They were so absorbed in their cooking. When Lucas turned, holding a freshly plated dish, the smile on his face froze for a split second before snapping back into place. “Keira, you’re back. I didn’t hear you come in.” My eyes fell to the plate in his hands. A vegetable stir-fry. Lily’s favorite. From the looks of it, he’d become a pretty damn good cook. Another bitter irony. I was on my deathbed before I learned that the man I’d spent five years with even knew how to cook. He’d always criticized my food, and under his influence, Chloe had started to do the same. I’d poured my soul into this family, and earned nothing but their contempt. The old me would have screamed, thrown things, had a hysterical breakdown. The new me just calmly walked past them and sat on the sofa, sorting through my purse. My silence seemed to unnerve Lucas. He hesitated, set the dish on the dining table, and walked over. “Keira,” he began, rubbing his nose awkwardly. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” He paused. “It’s about your sister, Lily.” A cold dread washed over me. I had a very bad feeling about where this was going. His next words confirmed it, leaving me frozen in place. “Lily’s been so depressed since her chemo. Your parents… they think it would lift her spirits if I married her. You know, to bring some happiness back into her life.” A roaring filled my ears. It took a long moment for my own voice to break through. “And you agreed?” Lucas sighed, as if burdened by my lack of understanding. “Keira, I know she’s not your biological sister, but she’s family. Besides, it’s just for show, to help her recover. As soon as she’s out of the hospital, I’ll be your husband again. Chloe’s father.” Before I could answer, Chloe piped up from the kitchen. “Yeah, Mom! Godmother Lily has been really sad lately. You have to understand!” I stared at the two of them. The man I had loved for years. The child I had raised. I had given them everything, my conscience clear. And this was my reward. Betrayal. But it didn’t matter anymore. If Lily wanted them, she could have them. She could have it all. I was done. Lifting my head, I looked Lucas straight in the eye. “Fine. I agree.” Surprise flashed across his face. “Really?” Without another word, he rushed to a drawer, pulled out a set of divorce papers, and slapped them on the coffee table. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. Oh, Lucas. Your eagerness is so naked, you don’t even try to hide it. I picked up the pen and signed my name. A look of profound relief washed over Lucas’s face, replaced by a somber, heartfelt expression. “Keira, once Lily is better, we’ll get remarried. I promise. I’ll never let you down.” He signed his name, then looked at me with a heavy sigh. “You’re so much more mature now, Keira. I know I haven’t always been fair to you, and I’m sorry. After Lily recovers, I promise, you won’t have to worry about a thing ever again.” “That’s right, Mom!” Chloe added, puffing out her chest like a little adult. “You’re being so good to Godmother Lily. I’m proud of you!” Looking at them, my heart turned to ash. A tiny, foolish part of me had held on to a last sliver of hope for Lucas and Chloe. Now, it was gone. There was nothing left to hope for but death. I stood, intending to go to my room, but a wave of dizziness crashed over me. My vision swam, and the world went black. In that final instant, I saw the panic on Lucas’s face. I woke to a biting cold. Opening my eyes, I found myself still on the floor. Lucas and Chloe were standing over me, their faces etched with disappointment. “See, Dad? I told you she was faking it,” Chloe said, her voice sharp. “Mom, can you please stop being so childish? You’re going to make us late to see Godmother Lily at the hospital!” Faking it? Then Lucas spoke, his voice heavy with disapproval. “Keira, can you stop with the dramatics? I already told you, even though we’re divorced, you’re the one I love. You don’t need to pull these kinds of stunts to test me.” Their words hit me, and I finally understood. The pain medication they’d given me didn’t just block the pain for three days; it made me appear completely normal. Healthy, even. But the side effect was brutal. After three days, my organs would fail. The drug was working perfectly. I pushed myself up. “It must be low blood sugar. It’s nothing. I’ll go to the hospital with you. There are some other transfer documents Lily needs to sign.” Lucas nodded, unsurprised. My parents must have already told him. At the hospital, Lily was watching TV in her room. Her face was still pale, but her energy was clearly returning. The smug triumph in her eyes, however, was impossible to miss. “Keira, you’re here!” she chirped. “Thank you for trusting me with your business. I promise I won’t let you down!” “That’s right, Keira,” my mother added with a beaming smile. “You can just relax at home and collect the dividends. Isn’t that wonderful?” I pulled the last of the paperwork from my bag. “In that case, let’s have her manage my entire estate. Then I won’t have to worry about a thing.” The room fell silent. Everyone stared at me. “Keira, are you serious?” Lucas grabbed my arm, his eyes wide with shock. “You’re giving everything to Lily?” Now it was my turn to be confused. They had always taken Lily’s side, given her whatever she wanted, and scolded me when I refused. Now that I was giving her everything, why were they acting so surprised? My father was the first to recover, his face glowing with pride. “The girl has finally grown up! Our love for you wasn’t wasted after all.” “Keira, learning to accept your sister is a wonderful thing,” he continued. “Now you two can live in harmony. We can finally grow old in peace.” Peace? Dad, Mom… you’ve been fooled by her act for so long. Do you really believe she’ll take care of anything that was mine? My head swam again. A strange tickle in my nose. I touched it and my fingers came away stained with blood. “Keira, your nose is bleeding. The weather hasn’t even been that dry,” my mother noted. My hand froze. I couldn’t stop myself. I looked at them, my voice quiet. “Dad, Mom… if I were to die from an illness one day, would you regret any of this?” My mother’s expression didn’t even flicker. She just gave me a dismissive smile. “You look perfectly healthy. How could you die from an illness? Don’t say such morbid things.” “Exactly,” my father added, his gaze shifting worriedly back to Lily. “Lily is the one we need to worry about. Once she’s better, we need to make sure she eats well and gets her strength back.” “I think so too!” Chloe chimed in. “Mom is super healthy. Godmother Lily is the one who needs us.” The last ember of hope inside me died. There was nothing left. I looked down at Chloe and forced a smile. “Chloe, haven’t you always wanted your godmother to be your real mom?” I said softly. “I’m making your wish come true. From now on, Lily is your mother. Aren’t you going to call her ‘Mom’?” A delighted gasp escaped Chloe’s lips. “Really?!” I nodded. “Once you call her Mom, you can eat her cooking all the time. She can be with you whenever you want. Isn’t that what you’ve always dreamed of?” Chloe jumped up and down with excitement. “Yay! Mommy, you’re the best in the world! Thank you!” She pulled her hand from mine and threw her arms around Lily. My parents and Lucas watched the scene, their faces beaming with approval. I turned and walked away. I glanced back one last time. My parents were cooing over Chloe with Lily. Lucas was standing beside them, a gentle smile on his face. Not a single one of them noticed I was gone. I closed the door to the hospital room and left. With only one day left to live, I had nowhere to go. My life had been a frantic rush, with never a moment to myself, never a chance to just… be. I booked a ticket to Brighton, a city by the sea. I watched the waves crash under the night sky and thought about hiking a cliffside trail. But my body wouldn’t let me. Just as the world started to tilt and fade, I dialed a number I hadn’t called in almost five years. Then everything went black. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. My eyes darted to the clock. Six hours left. Sitting beside me, her eyes red from crying, was Jenna. My childhood friend. She had begged me not to marry Lucas, insisting he wasn’t worthy of me. I hadn’t listened. We’d had a terrible fight, and she didn’t even come to my wedding. I knew I shouldn’t have bothered her now, after all this time. But besides her, there was no one else in the world. “What the hell happened to you, Keira?” she choked out, her voice thick with tears. “Weren’t you so happy after marrying Lucas? The perfect little family? Why are you like this? Why is the doctor saying your organs are failing?” I was on a ventilator, but I managed a weak smile. We’d made a pact as kids. If one of us was at the end, the other would handle everything that came after, no matter what. I couldn’t speak, so I mustered the last of my strength and pointed a trembling finger at my handbag. Jenna understood. She retrieved several folders from the bag. She studied them for a moment, then gave a solemn nod and placed them in her own purse. I was relieved to see our bond was still strong enough to communicate without words. Three hours left. I refused any further intervention. After another period of unconsciousness, I woke up to Jenna showing me her phone. It was a text from Lily. [Keira, I won. I got everything.] [Did you really think you could compete with me? It’s your own fault for being so pathetic. Your parents always liked me better anyway.] [Just disappear quietly. I’ll take good care of your mommy and daddy for you. And your husband and daughter, too. 😉 ] Jenna started sobbing, cursing Lily under her breath. I sighed, a wave of self-mockery washing over me. In my entire life, I had only one regret: convincing my father to sponsor Lily Ashton. I first saw her at a rundown orphanage. I was a young volunteer, tagging along with my teacher. It was snowing heavily that day, and all the other children were huddled inside for warmth. But Lily was out back, by the dumpsters, picking meat off discarded bones. I couldn’t stand to see it. I begged my father to help her. After that, Lily and I became inseparable. The next year, she transferred to my class. Her charm and intelligence quickly won over the teachers and students. I was so proud every time someone praised her. Then, slowly, things started to change. My friends began to drift away from me, gravitating toward Lily. The boys who’d had crushes on me grew distant, only to make grand declarations of love for her. Even my parents started inviting her over constantly, for dinner, for sleepovers, until finally, they split my bedroom in two and gave her half. I was too naive, too blind to see it then. Lily’s greatest talent was using the praise of others as a weapon to steal everything that was mine. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. My room was gone. My family was gone. Everything I had was hers. I asked her once, why she did it. Her answer chilled me to the bone. “Keira, did you really think I’d be grateful? How could I be? I couldn’t stand watching you flaunt your perfect life in my face. I wanted to take everything from you. I wanted to see the despair on your face when you had nothing left.” I used to believe I could drive her away, that I could make my parents and Lucas see her for who she was. But I was a fool. I underestimated her cunning, and I fatally misjudged how deeply she had charmed my family. I had lost. Utterly and completely. Nine minutes left. My consciousness was fading, my vision blurring. But I could still make out the screen of Jenna’s phone. A new message from my mother. [Keira, have someone repaint your old house pink in the next few days. Your sister loves pink.] [Also, your sister will be discharged in about two weeks. When she is, you need to move some of your things out to make room for hers.] Even in my final moments, all she could think about was Lily. I truly meant nothing to her. So be it. I could hear Jenna crying, screaming my name, but the sound was distant, muffled. I’d been fighting for so long. I was so, so tired. Finally, I could rest. November 24th. Keira Sterling died at Brighton General Hospital. She was 29 years old. Lily was watching television in her hospital bed when the door to her room burst open. She looked up and saw a man standing there. Her biological father. “What are you doing here?” she snapped, her eyes flashing with a mixture of disgust and fear. Rick Ashton let out a cold laugh. “What, you think you’d have landed this rich family if I hadn’t dumped you at that orphanage? I’m broke. Transfer me a hundred grand. Now.” Lily shot up in bed. “Why should I? You haven’t done a single thing for me since the day I was born!” Rick casually sat down on the sofa. “Cut the crap, Lily. I know all about your dirty little schemes. You give me the money, and we can all play nice. If not… well, you know what I’m capable of.” Lily’s hands clenched into tight fists. After a long moment, she relaxed them. “Fine. Just give me some time. I need to get out of the hospital before I can get the money.” He sneered. “Born for the gutter but caught a princess’s disease. It’s just early-stage cancer, what a waste of money. You have two days. If I don’t see the money in two days, I’m going to pay a little visit to your rich ‘daddy.’” He stood, kicked the door open, and left. Lily swept a glass off her nightstand, sending it shattering against the floor. She was breathing heavily, her eyes burning with pure hatred. Why? Why did everyone else get to have a happy life while she was stuck with a parasite for a father, left to rot in an orphanage? Why was she the one who had to endure that life of scorn and pity? She had worked so hard to usurp Keira’s place, to drive the precious Sterling heiress out. She would not go back to that hand-to-mouth existence. Never! Lily got out of bed. Since tricking Keira out of the chemo spot, her recovery had been swift. She would be discharged soon. But now, she had a new plan. She would sell off all of Keira’s properties and businesses immediately, transfer the money to an overseas account in installments, and then leave the country for good. Her scumbag father would never find her. The idiotic Sterlings would never find her. Yes. This had to happen, and it had to happen fast. She told the nurse she was going for a walk, went downstairs, and hailed a cab to the bank. Her heart pounded with excitement as she handed the debit card to the teller. In moments, all of Keira’s money would be hers. She would finally be free. But the teller looked up, a strange expression on her face. “Ma’am, the name and identity on this card do not match your own.” The teller looked at her again. “Are you sure this is the right card?” Lily froze. “How is that possible? My family already transferred ownership of this account to me when we signed the paperwork!” She leaned in. “Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake?” The teller shook her head. “Ma’am, the account is still legally under the name Keira Sterling. Furthermore, a protective hold has been placed on this account.” Lily’s mind went blank. A protective hold? Impossible. How? She had watched Keira sign the transfer agreement with her own two eyes! She’d read it over and over before signing it herself. Had Keira pulled some kind of trick afterward? Wait, the company and the shops! Lily stumbled out of the bank and called a contact she knew. She sat on a bench outside, waiting anxiously. A few minutes later, her phone rang. “Lily, I checked. All those retail locations and the company you mentioned… the legal owner is still a Keira Sterling. And two days ago, her lawyer, acting on her behalf, filed for a comprehensive asset protection order on all of them.” A roar filled Lily’s ears, and her world exploded into white noise.

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“Sarah, your position has been eliminated.” The HR manager slid a folder across the table toward me. I stared at her, stunned. “Me? But I’m the lead on the Nexus Core system—” “Marcus made the decision,” she cut me off, her tone flat. “He said anyone can take over the project.” My mouth opened, but no words came out. She was already looking down at the next file on her desk. “You get three months’ severance. Sign here.” I looked at the text on the page. Eight years. I had given this company eight years of my life, and this is what it was worth. 1. I didn’t sign. The HR manager looked up, her eyes flashing with impatience. “Sarah, you need to think this through. If you sign now, you get the payout. If you make a scene, it won’t end well for you.” “I want to see Marcus.” “Mr. Elwes is a very busy man.” “Phase Two of Nexus Core is scheduled for delivery next week. I’m the only one who knows the core code—” “The technical details,” she interrupted again, “will be handled. Marcus has a plan.” I took a deep breath. Eight years. When I joined in 2017, this company was just a handful of people in a dingy old office building. The entire tech department was me and four other guys. I built Nexus Core one line of code at a time. From version 1.0 to the current 3.7. Over three million lines of code. It served seventeen of our enterprise clients and brought in over seven million dollars in annual revenue. “I can wait,” I said. Her expression soured. “Sarah, a word of advice. Once Marcus makes a decision, he doesn’t change it. You’re only going to make this harder on yourself.” I didn’t move. She stood up and left the conference room. I sat there alone, staring out the window. The three o’clock sun cast a warm glow on the street below, the same street where I bought my coffee every day. I’d been sitting in this building for eight years. The door opened. It was Marcus Elwes. He was in his early forties, his hair perfectly coiffed, a gold watch peeking out from the cuff of his tailored suit. “Sarah,” he said, sitting down across from me. “I hear you’re refusing to sign.” “Marcus, Phase Two goes live next week. If I leave, who’s going to—” “Don’t worry,” he said with a dismissive smile. “The tech is covered. Kevin and the team can handle it.” Kevin? Kevin Chen was a junior who’d been hired last year. He barely understood the system architecture. “Marcus, the core module’s encryption protocol was something I developed independently. There’s no documentation—” “Sarah.” He cut me off. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm, absolute. “I think you have a fundamental misunderstanding of your role here.” I was speechless. “Nexus Core,” he said slowly, deliberately, “is the result of a team effort. It is not your personal project. The company will do just fine without you.” I stared at him, my blood running cold. “At the company gala last year,” I said, my voice quiet, “you told the clients you led the development.” His smile faltered for a fraction of a second. “That was just for marketing purposes.” “And the core technology?” “Sarah,” he said, standing up. “I don’t have time to argue with you about this. HR will handle the rest.” He walked to the door, then paused. “Don’t overestimate your own importance.” The door clicked shut. I sat there alone. The sunlight was still beautiful. But I felt a deep, unshakable chill. 2. At five o’clock, I went back to my desk. My colleagues kept their heads down, their eyes glued to their monitors. No one looked at me. As I was packing my things into a cardboard box, Kevin came over. “Sarah,” he whispered, “are you really leaving?” “My position was eliminated.” A flicker of panic crossed his face. “But… Phase Two…” “Marcus said you guys can handle it.” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. I knew what he wanted to say. Just last week, he’d spent two hours in a meeting with me, trying and failing to understand the key generation mechanism for the encryption module. “Sarah,” he hesitated, “Marcus told me I’m taking over Phase Two starting tomorrow…” “I know.” “I… I don’t really get how that—” “Kevin.” Marcus’s voice cut through the quiet office from behind us. Kevin froze, snapping his mouth shut as if a switch had been flipped. “Sarah’s situation is her own business. Don’t get involved,” Marcus said, walking past without even glancing at me. “We’ll discuss Phase Two at the morning stand-up.” “Yes, Marcus.” He walked away. Kevin looked at me, his mouth half-open. “Sarah, I…” “It’s okay,” I said, placing the last folder in my box. “Just do your best.” He nodded and scurried back to his desk. I walked toward the exit, box in my arms. The door to Marcus’s office was open. He was on the phone, his voice booming with confidence. “Relax, I’m personally overseeing the Nexus project. Sarah Vance? She’s just a coder. Her leaving won’t impact a thing. I’m in control of the core technology.” I stopped for a second. He didn’t see me. “That’s right, Phase Two will be delivered on time next week. You have my personal guarantee.” I didn’t go in. I just held my box and walked to the elevator. As the doors slid shut, I saw the young woman at the front desk give me a small, sad wave. Then the doors closed. Eight years. Over, just like that. I stepped out of the building, and the bright sun made me squint. My phone rang. It was my mom. “Honey, are you done with work? Coming home for dinner tonight?” I opened my mouth, the words catching in my throat. “Mom, I… I have to work late.” “Again? That company works you like a dog.” “Yeah.” “Okay, well, take care of yourself.” I hung up. Standing in front of the building, I suddenly had no idea where to go. 3. I went to the coffee shop across the street. I ordered a black Americano and found a seat in the corner, the box of my professional life at my feet. My phone screen lit up. It was the company-wide chat. Marcus had posted a message: “Team, due to personal reasons, Sarah Vance will be leaving the company. I will be personally leading the charge on Nexus Core Phase Two, so there is nothing to worry about.” A flood of replies appeared instantly. “Got it, Marcus!” “Thanks for stepping in, Marcus!” “With you leading, Marcus, I know we’re in good hands!” I stared at the screen. Personal reasons? I was laid off, and he called it personal reasons? My thumb hovered over the keyboard for a few seconds. In the end, I just locked the screen. I took a sip of coffee. It was bitter, astringent. Eight years. I gave my youth to this company. In 2017, I turned down an offer from Google to come here. Because Marcus promised me a chance to build something new, to lead a core project. And I did. Nexus Core. From scratch. I tackled every technical hurdle, often alone. I designed the encryption protocol. I built the core architecture. Through more than thirty iterations, I was the one pulling all-nighters to oversee every launch. During the massive system upgrade last year, I worked for a month straight without a single day off. And for what? At the gala, Marcus stood on stage, holding court with the clients. “Nexus Core is the culmination of our team’s hard work, which I personally led for three years…” The applause was deafening. I was sitting in a corner, invisible. Later, when a client asked him a technical question he couldn’t answer, I was the one who had to step in and save him. He clapped me on the shoulder and said, “This is our lead engineer, a technical genius I personally mentored.” I just smiled and said nothing. Looking back, I was such a fool. My phone buzzed again. An unknown number. I answered. “May I speak with Sarah Vance?” “This is she.” “Hi, Sarah, this is a recruiter from a tech headhunting firm. Is now a good time to talk?” I paused. “Not really, no.”

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After my annual bonus came through, I decided to treat my relatives to an all-expenses-paid vacation to Bali. The moment I sent the message in the family group chat, I was bombarded with over three thousand angry messages. Assuming they thought my choice was too cheap, I quickly announced an upgrade: a five-day luxury tour of New York City. That only made them angrier. They showed up at my house and threw red paint on my front door, scrawling the word “DIE” across it in huge, dripping letters. Baffled and desperate, I gritted my teeth and booked the most expensive package I could find: a month-long deluxe tour of Scandinavia. For that, they tied me up and drowned me in a pond. Even as the last of the air left my lungs, I couldn’t understand it. I was willing to spend my entire one-hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar bonus on them. Why wasn’t it enough? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I received my bonus. 1 “Anna, have you decided yet?” The first thing I heard was a familiar voice. It was my mother, walking into my bedroom with a plate of sliced fruit. “Bali?” She leaned over to look at my laptop screen. “Oh, I’ve heard it’s beautiful there! Are you thinking of—” “I’m not going!” I slammed the laptop shut, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin. My mother jumped, startled. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern. I looked at her worried face and remembered my last life. I remembered her broken sobs as she watched my relatives hold me under the water, how she threw herself into the pond after me. I could not let that happen again. “I’m not going to Bali. I haven’t decided on anything yet,” I said, forcing a smile. “Oh, well, that’s fine. No rush. Take your time,” she said, patting my shoulder. “But don’t be stingy, now. If it weren’t for my brothers and sisters, we never would have made it this far after the divorce. You’re so successful now; it’s only right that you repay their kindness.” Her words made me pause. She was right. They had always been so good to me. After my parents divorced and I went to live with my mom, her side of the family became my only one. When I was bullied in school, my Uncle Jack marched into the principal’s office and personally made sure the kids who hurt me never bothered me again. When my mom couldn’t afford my extracurricular fees, my Aunt Carol sent me ten boxes of books, getting me everything I ever wanted to read. When I went away to a boarding high school, Aunt Susan and Uncle Mike took turns driving up every weekend with clothes and home-cooked meals, terrified I wouldn’t be warm or well-fed. That’s what made it so impossible to understand. Why would this loving family, the people who cherished me, want to murder me? I sat at my desk, replaying the events of my past life. First, I offered Bali, which made them furious. I assumed they thought I was being cheap, so I kept upgrading the trip. With each upgrade, their rage grew, until it finally boiled over into murder. So, this time, maybe I should do the opposite. I took a deep breath and typed a message into the group chat. “Bonus came in! To celebrate, I’d like to treat everyone to a vacation. Pick any popular spot in the country!” “Uncles, Aunts, just pick a place, and I’ll handle all the arrangements!” This time, I started small. Just a domestic trip. I held my breath, waiting to see how they’d react. “Well, well, look at Anna, so filial, repaying her elders like this!” “What a two-faced snake!” My heart sank. The first reply was from Uncle Jack, and it was— Exactly the same as last time. Just as before, his message opened the floodgates. A tidal wave of scorn and vitriol slammed into my phone, message after message. Aunt Carol: “I can’t believe it. I loved that girl with all my heart, and I raised a viper!” Aunt Susan: “So young and already so rotten. Plotting against her own family. She’s a monster!” My mother rushed into the room, her face etched with worry. “Anna, your Uncle Mike just called. He said you’ve broken his heart. He wishes he’d never had you as a niece.” She wrung her hands. “Maybe they think a domestic trip is too plain? Perhaps you should offer to take them abroad—” “No!” I cut her off. I absolutely could not upgrade. That was the path that led to my death. “Okay,” I said, struggling to stay calm. “Let’s do this. I’ll let everyone vote.” “If they choose it themselves, they can’t possibly be unhappy, right?” 2 I carefully curated a list of destinations and created a polling link, which I then posted in the chat. “Everyone, I’m so sorry. I was being thoughtless before. I’ve put together a new list with popular destinations both at home and abroad. Please vote for wherever you’d like to go.” The chat fell silent. I held my breath, waiting for the results. But no one voted. “You’ve got some nerve! Making us choose, as if that cleans your conscience?” “A poll? Are you human? Do you think we’re idiots!” “Anna, the blood in your veins is as filthy as your deadbeat father’s!” My head was spinning. Not only had nothing changed, but this time, they were even angrier than when I had offered the first upgrade in my past life. I found out just how angry the next morning. When I opened my front door, I was met with the same scene as before: the door splashed with red paint, the word “DIE” scrawled across it. But this time, there was something new. Hanging above the doorway was a metal bucket, rigged to fall. It was filled with more paint and shattered glass. If I hadn’t heard the creak of the rope and jumped back, I would have been maimed for life. I stared at the mess, my mind a chaotic blur. Where did I go wrong? What had I done? Was it… was it the vacation itself? Was the problem that I offered a trip at all? I thought about it, then canceled the poll and sent a new message. This time, I announced that instead of a trip, I would be buying a gold bar for each family and delivering it to them personally. They might not like travel, but who doesn’t like gold? I waited, my nerves shot. Five minutes passed. This time, the chat remained silent. I let out a shaky breath. It seemed I was getting closer to the real issue. But what was the deeper reason behind all this? Before I could figure it out, my half-brother, Liam, called. My dad was an abusive alcoholic, but Liam had turned out okay, and we had a decent relationship. He was calling because he was stuck on his college thesis and wanted to ask for help from a friend of mine, a brilliant cybersecurity expert. I handed my phone to my friend, and they talked for over an hour. The moment I got my phone back, I knew something was wrong. The family chat was too quiet. Even if they had stopped yelling at me, it was unnatural for there to be no activity at all. I opened the app, and my vision went black when I saw the small line of text at the bottom. You have been removed from the group by your mother. “Mom, what are you doing? Add me back in, now!” I yelled into the phone. “I just couldn’t stand seeing them say all those horrible things to you! I thought you needed a break!” she said, sounding flustered. But I had just announced I was giving them gold! My leaving the group right after would make them think it was all a cruel joke. Panicked, I had her add me back immediately. Sure enough, the instant I rejoined, I was hit with another hailstorm of accusations. “So condescending. Thinks she can just buy us off with a little gold.” “Who would take money from you? Gold? You’d probably show up at my house, hand it over, and then call the cops saying I bribed you!” I was utterly lost. They didn’t want a vacation. They didn’t trust me with money. What on earth did they want? “If you ask me, her mother’s the one to blame for raising her this way!” “And she’s a teacher! We should go down to her school and teach her a lesson!” Now they were going after my mother. In a fit of desperation, I threw my hands up and typed one last, reckless offer. “Fine! It’s impossible to please everyone. If you still want a vacation, you can plan it yourselves! No more limits. Each family can pick their own destination, as many places as you want, for as long as you want! I’ll pay for everything when you get back!” That had to be enough. Surely, that would satisfy them. The group went silent again. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a new message popped up. “Anna, are you home?” It was from Uncle Mike. A jolt of pure terror shot through me. And then, from outside my apartment, I heard it. The sound of approaching footsteps… The footsteps of the people coming to kill me. 3 Uncle Jack had a key to my apartment. Getting in would be easy for them. But this time, I was ready. Before they could burst in, I climbed out my bedroom window and hid in a cluttered corner of the small courtyard below, a spot from which I could see clearly into my room. I saw Uncle Jack storm in, a knife clutched in his hand. Behind him, Aunt Carol and Aunt Susan carried a rope and a canvas bag, their faces twisted with hate as they searched for me. I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle a scream, my body trembling uncontrollably. When they couldn’t find me, they assumed I wasn’t home and began to destroy my room, smashing everything in sight. They were still rampaging when my mother got home. She ran in and threw herself at Uncle Jack’s legs, sobbing. “Don’t! Please, stop!” “You’re still protecting her, even now!” he roared at her. “She didn’t mean it! She’s just a child! Can’t you forgive her?” A strange question pierced through my fear. Protecting me? Didn’t mean it? What was my mother talking about? Did she know why they hated me so much? I waited until they had left, then snuck back into the apartment and pretended I had just gotten home from work. I feigned shock, asking my mother what had happened. She broke down, apologizing over and over. I took her hand and tested the waters. “Mom… do you have any idea why they’re so angry with me? What did I do?” She hesitated for a fraction of a second before shaking her head. “I don’t know, honey. It’s… probably still about the vacation.” I knew she was lying. But why? At least I had gleaned one crucial piece of information from their conversation. Their hatred seemed to be directed at me personally, not at the trips I had offered. To test this theory, I called my brother, Liam. I asked him to message our relatives privately and tell them he’d just received a scholarship and wanted to take them on a trip to celebrate. I would, of course, cover all the costs. Liam agreed, and soon he reported back. Their reaction was exactly as I’d suspected. Every single one of them praised him for being so thoughtful and for not forgetting his family. Not a single angry word was said. My theory was correct. They hated me. But why? And what did it have to do with the secret my mother was hiding? As I was pondering this, my phone began to vibrate violently. A new wave of messages flooded the group chat. “Anna, go to hell!” “You scheming bitch! I swear I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget!” “You just wait! I’m coming over there to beat the life out of you!” My blood ran cold. I immediately called Liam and asked him what he had said to them. My foolish brother proudly told me that he hadn’t kept my involvement a secret. “Sis, how could I let you do a good deed and not get any credit? I couldn’t steal your thunder!” he said cheerfully. “I told them it was really your money. I bet they’re all praising you right now, aren’t they?” I wanted to cry. Praising me? They’re coming to kill me! But this time, I stayed calm. I still didn’t have the whole picture, but I wasn’t flying blind like in my past life. I had clues. Now, I needed to confront them face-to-face. Hiding wouldn’t solve anything. I sent a message to the group, inviting them all to my home in two hours. The moment they kicked open my door and stormed into my living room, I dropped to my knees. “I know what you’ve come to do,” I said, my voice steady. “But you don’t have to trouble yourselves. I’ve already prepared the pesticide.” I pointed to a bottle on the coffee table and looked each of them in the eye. “All I ask is that before I die, you let me say a few words. Let me understand why. Please.” 4 My words stopped them in their tracks. They stood there, stunned. This was the opening I needed. “Uncles, Aunts, if I’ve done something wrong, please, just tell me. I swear I’ll fix it. You watched me grow up. You know my character. Can’t you have even a little faith in me?” Hearing this, a flicker of hesitation crossed their faces. “It’s because we watched you grow up that we’re so angry!” Aunt Carol snapped. “You know exactly what you did, so stop playing innocent! You want us to say it out loud? You’d probably find a way to make us pay for that, too!” The confusion deepened, but I kept my composure. “How could I? Whether it was wanting to repay you with my bonus or offering to take you on vacation, my intentions were always sincere!” The mention of the vacation reignited their fury. “You still dare to bring that up!” “Yes, I do!” I pushed back, meeting their furious glares. “Please, just tell me. Why does the word ‘vacation’ make you so angry? Tell me the reason. If I can’t explain myself, you can pour this bottle down my throat. I won’t resist.” They exchanged glances, their anger still simmering, but they finally relented. “Fine. We’ll let you die knowing the truth.” “I have one question for you. Why did you—” “Anna, don’t do it!” A piercing scream cut my uncle off. My mother and brother burst into the room. Mom snatched the bottle from my hands and turned to the crowd. “Big brother, Carol, my daughter has already booked the most luxurious tour packages for every single one of you! Please, don’t do this to her!” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I rushed to cover her mouth. “What are you talking about? I didn’t buy anything! Mom, stop making things worse!” “Anna!” Tears streamed down her face as she whispered frantically, “I already booked them for you! I used my own money to cover the difference! We have to appease them!” “You will not force my sister to drink that!” Liam shouted, his eyes red as he stepped in front of me. “If you want someone to drink it, I’ll do it for her!” He grabbed the bottle, twisted off the cap, and tilted his head back! “Liam, no—” I lunged for him, my heart stopping, but after taking a swig, his expression changed. “Hey… this is just Coke,” he said, holding up the bottle with an awkward grin. “Phew, you really had me going there, sis. I thought you were serious!” I looked at my mother and brother, whose “help” had just sealed my fate. A bleak, hollow feeling washed over me. It was over. Everything was over. Uncle Jack drew a knife from his belt, his eyes looking at me as if I were already dead. “I knew it. You were never sincere.” “It was all a trick.” “What are you doing? Don’t you dare touch her!” my mother and brother screamed, forming a human shield in front of me. I watched them, utterly exhausted. Was this it? Was I doomed to repeat my fate, no matter what I did? Last time, I dragged my mother down with me. This time, my brother too… Wait. I looked at my mother and brother standing protectively before me, then at the murderous faces of my relatives. And in that instant, like a bolt of lightning, it hit me. I understood. I finally understood! It all made sense. I strode forward, pushing past my mother and brother to stand in the center of the hostile circle. I held up my phone. “Everyone, my mother was mistaken. The luxury tours I have in mind aren’t the ones she booked,” I announced, my voice ringing with newfound confidence. “I’m talking about a top-tier, non-refundable package! Once I book this, the money is gone for good!” “I know you think I’m being cheap, that you’re afraid I’ll back out. So this time, I’m going to do it right here, in front of all of you. You can watch my hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar bonus disappear with the press of a button!” “This,” I declared, “is my sincerity!” I raised my thumb, poised to press the ‘Confirm Payment’ button. “NO!” Two panicked voices cried out from the crowd. I looked toward the source of the shouts, and at that moment, the immense weight on my heart finally, quietly, lifted. I was right.

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Every year on the day SAT scores are released, the top scorer in our state dies by suicide. The higher the score, the more gruesome the death. The police formed a task force, but they came up with nothing. The top students in the state are terrified. They’ve started intentionally tanking their exams, afraid of becoming the valedictorian. I was the only one who studied harder. In the end, I achieved a perfect score of 1600, becoming the highest-scoring valedictorian in history. Why? Because my brother was the valedictorian three years ago. I watched him die a horrific death right in front of me. I will avenge him. 1 My mom died the year I was born. My dad raised my brother and me alone. He worked every dirty, exhausting job he could find just so we wouldn’t have to suffer. Over the years, women admired his work ethic and offered to start a new family with him. But Dad refused them all, afraid a stepmother would mistreat us. Because we saw how hard he worked, my brother and I studied relentlessly, desperate to give him a better life. Three years ago, my brother took the SATs. By then, the rumors about the valedictorian curse were already widespread. Every top student was anxious, terrified of ranking first. I begged my brother to hold back, to lower his score just enough to stay safe. But he just looked at me and said: “I’ve worked hard for years to get a good score, to give you and Dad a better life. I won’t tank my score, and I certainly won’t kill myself.” “Besides, those suicides have to be coincidences. This time, I’m going to break the curse.” He kept his word. With a score of 1580, he became that year’s state valedictorian. But the brother who swore he would never commit suicide jumped from the roof on the day the scores came out. He didn’t say a word before he died. He just looked deeply at our father, then leaped. He landed headfirst. It was gruesome. In his hand, he clutched a bloodstained note with a single sentence: “Brother, never become the valedictorian.” As I held his broken body and screamed in agony, my father, who had always doted on him, stood silently by. He didn’t shed a single tear. I asked him why. He looked at me with cold, dead eyes and said, “He chose to be the valedictorian. He has no one to blame but himself.” I couldn’t understand. My dad used to cry if my brother even had a fever. Why was he so indifferent watching him die? Remembering the look my brother gave him before he jumped… I couldn’t shake the feeling that my father was involved. But why? What reason could he possibly have? My brother loved life. Why would he suddenly kill himself? Harboring these doubts, I studied bitterly for three years. Just for this one exam. This time, I’m using myself as bait. I will find the truth. 2 On the day the scores were released. I looked at my dad, who was cooking in the kitchen. “Dad, if I die, will you cry?” His hand paused while washing the rice. He turned to look at me, confusion in his eyes. “Why are you asking that?” I paused for two seconds, then said seriously: “I’ve checked the answers.” “Unless something went wrong, I should be this year’s state valedictorian.” The light in his eyes vanished instantly. A second later, he said flatly, “Oh. Congratulations.” Two words. Short and calm. Like we were discussing the weather. No emotion at all. I stared at him, searching for a crack in his mask. But he acted like nothing happened, turning back to wash the rice. The morning light reflected in his cold eyes, stinging my heart. I remembered when I was five, I had a sudden seizure and a high fever during a blizzard. In sub-zero temperatures, with no taxis running, my dad carried me on his back and ran six miles through the snow to the hospital. When we arrived, he was purple with cold, his feet bloody from the ice. But he didn’t seem to feel the pain. He just begged the doctors to save me. They said it was hopeless. But my proud father knelt at the ER entrance, banging his head on the floor, crying and begging them to try again. I don’t understand. Growing up, he valued my brother and me more than his own life. Why is he so cold about this? I didn’t say anything else. I just waited for the score. In the end, as expected, I got a perfect 1600. The highest-scoring valedictorian in history. The score shocked the state and blew up the internet. From reality to online forums, everyone was debating it: “Is he crazy? Everyone else is scared to death, tanking their scores, and he gets a perfect score? Doesn’t he know about the curse?” “I’m his classmate. His brother was the valedictorian three years ago! He died horribly! There’s no way he doesn’t know!” “Then why? Is he suicidal?” “I heard his dad raised them alone, working multiple jobs. His brother died three years ago, and now this… how will his dad survive losing him too?” Some were shocked by my score. Some pitied my father. Others called me selfish for courting death when I knew the consequences. Meanwhile, I locked my bedroom door and started a livestream. 3 I set up the camera to capture the entire room. As soon as the stream started, it went viral. Within minutes, millions of viewers flooded in. The comments were scrolling so fast I could barely read them. “This is the perfect score valedictorian? He doesn’t look scared at all.” “Streaming at a time like this? Kid’s got nerves of steel.” “Streamer, did you think about your dad when you got that score?” “Your dad worked his life away for you boys. He already lost your brother. If you die, how will he live?” “So unfilial. Is a test score more important than your lives?” Most people were condemning me. Calling me selfish, ungrateful. Pitying my father. Amidst the backlash, I started speaking slowly, like I was telling a story: “As you all know, my dad raised my brother and me alone. It wasn’t easy.” “We suffered, we struggled. Every day was a fight for survival.” “But my brother was always optimistic. He taught me to cherish life, to keep living.” “He said as long as we’re alive, things will get better.” “He swore he would use his own efforts to give Dad and me a good life.” “But three years ago, he killed himself.” I held up my brother’s suicide note. Facing the camera, I said word by word: “This is the note my brother held when he jumped.” “It has one sentence: ‘Brother, never become the valedictorian.’” “I have treasured this note for three years.” “And I have studied it for three years.” “The handwriting is identical to my brother’s.” “The police confirmed only his fingerprints were on it.” “But I am certain he didn’t write it.” “Someone forged his handwriting and left this note.” “To cover up the fact that his death wasn’t a suicide.” “He was murdered.” 4 The chat exploded. Question marks flooded the screen. “For real? I thought all the valedictorians committed suicide?” “If the handwriting is identical, how can you be sure?” “I was there that day! I saw him jump! No one pushed him!” “Are you delusional?” Shock, doubt, denial. I continued over the noise: “Because whether in life or in letters, my brother never called me ‘Brother.’ He only ever used my nickname.” “He did jump. But he was forced to.” “For three years, I’ve investigated the deaths of every other valedictorian.” “I can tell you with certainty: every single one was suspicious.” “This is a massive lie.” “They were all murdered!” The chat went wilder. “Holy crap, this is terrifying. I have goosebumps.” “Who? Why? Who could make so many top students kill themselves?” Amidst the shock, I looked straight into the lens, my voice firm: “Even though I know it wasn’t suicide, I could never find proof of murder. The killer is too good at hiding.” “That’s why I did everything I could to become the valedictorian. To uncover the truth. To expose this lie.” “They say the higher the score, the worse the death.” “Today, I’m streaming so you can all witness it.” “Will I die?” My words were sincere, my determination clear. The viewers were shaken. The livestream view count skyrocketed. The whole country was watching. Even the police saw it and dispatched units to my house. As the sirens wailed closer… The chat suddenly unified, screaming one thing: “BEHIND YOU!” “LOOK BEHIND YOU!” “RUN!” I spun around. And saw something I will never forget.

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Chapter 1 On the very night I was identified as the true heiress, my brother dumped me at an orphanage. My smooth, luxurious life turned upside down overnight. The head bully at the orphanage made my life a living hell. One day, she held my head in a latrine until I almost suffocated; the next, she whipped me until I was bedridden and bleeding. I cried for help, begging the director to save me. He just sneered. “If you weren’t so vicious, would your family have kicked you out? You deserve it.” His silence emboldened the bully. The torture became unbearable. On the eve of New Year’s, she stripped me naked and threw me out into the snow. I was frozen stiff before they finally rushed me to the hospital. In my delirium, I heard the director laughing with someone. “Rich people really know how to play. Kicking out the biological sister just to keep the adopted one happy? And paying us to ‘toughen her up’?” “Have you seen the news? Her parents and brother spoil that adopted girl rotten. They gave her their hearts.” “I wonder if Mr. Sterling will even come this time. We aren’t paying her medical bills.” So, my suffering was just a game my brother played for her—Lily. I clutched the bone cancer diagnosis the doctor had given me and laughed until I cried. Great. Soon, Lily really would be his only sister. … The doctor stood over me, sighing repeatedly. “It’s rare for someone your age to have this condition. But the repeated trauma to your legs without proper treatment…” He sat down and explained the treatment plan earnestly. But my eardrums had been damaged from the beatings. I could barely hear him. I only caught the last sentence. “If we treat it now, we can buy you a few more years. Discuss it with your family.” Family? After six years as an orphan, hearing that word still made me pause. I shook my head, tears in my eyes. “I don’t have a family.” The doctor stopped writing. He looked at the scars covering my body and tried to reason with me. “Little girl, fights happen. But running away isn’t the answer. The world is dangerous. You’ll suffer.” “Your brother will be here soon. Talk it out.” I lowered my head. Home used to be my sanctuary. But the day my brother, Lucas, threw me out for Lily, claiming I was the fake, I lost my home. He wouldn’t care. I stared blankly at the ceiling. Just as I tried to turn over, the door burst open. “Sarah? Are you done? hurting yourself just because I wouldn’t pick up the phone?” Lucas’s familiar voice stunned me. So, every time I called him, begging him to save me from the hell of the orphanage, he knew it was me. He just didn’t want to answer. I laughed in despair. I looked up, my eyes red, and met his gaze. “You hate me that much? Your own sister?” Lucas’s pupils trembled. He clenched his fists, his eyes reddening. We both knew the truth. Finally, he relaxed his hands and sighed. “I did it so Lily could have a happy childhood. You already had a good life. Her mother died because of our family.” “Taking care of her is my promise to her mom. You were too domineering. You bullied her. I had no choice.” I nodded, smiling. But inside, my heart shattered into a million pieces. A happy childhood for her? So I deserved to be dumped in an orphanage? Deserved to be tortured? Deserved bone cancer? I choked back tears. “What about Mom and Dad?” He frowned, his expression unreadable. “We made the decision together. But we agreed to bring you back once Lily is stable.” I thought I could handle it. But hearing him say it out loud… The bloody truth hit me like a hammer. The whole family knew. For the sake of the nanny’s daughter, they happily let me suffer. Tears streamed down my face. I wished I really was the fake heiress. I wished I had frozen to death that night. At least then, it wouldn’t hurt this much. Chapter 2 Seeing my tears, Lucas softened. He finally compromised. “If you promise to behave, stop being bossy, and stop bullying Lily, I can bring you home tomorrow.” He paused. “Not tonight. Tonight is New Year’s Eve, and it’s her birthday. We promised to spend it with her alone.” I opened my dry mouth, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Finally, I smirked. “I have bone cancer. I need to stay in the hospital. Just pay the bill. I won’t go home. I won’t bully your precious Lily.” The moment I finished, Lucas exploded. “Sarah! Stop the sarcasm!” “You think being the ‘real’ daughter gives you the right to lie about cancer just to get your way?” I looked at him in shock and pointed at the doctor. “I’m not lying! Ask him!” The doctor stepped forward to explain. But Lucas kicked the bed frame, his patience gone. “Enough! You haven’t changed at all. Conspiring with doctors to trick me?” “I shouldn’t have come here out of pity!” The door slammed shut. The room fell silent. My heart sank. I stared at the door. The doctor was dumbfounded. “That… is Mr. Sterling? The famous doting brother? Is he really your brother?” I nodded, then shook my head foolishly. He was a doting brother. But that sister wasn’t me anymore. It was Lily. She was our nanny’s daughter. We grew up together. I shared everything with her. I treated her like a sister. But Lily wanted more. She started framing me. She told my parents I bullied her at school, calling her a hillbilly. She said I stripped her naked in public, screaming that poor people didn’t deserve clothes. My parents couldn’t believe their sweet daughter could be so cruel. Their eyes filled with disappointment. Lucas was furious. He started slapping me. The whole family began to hate me. After the nanny died saving my parents in a car crash, Lucas “found” a recording. He sent nine-year-old me to the orphanage that very night. “You and Lily were switched at birth. She is the real daughter! You stole her life!” My world collapsed. But I had to accept it. Even when I was tortured at the orphanage, I didn’t hate them. I thought they were just avenging their real daughter. But now I knew the truth. It was all a lie. A sick game. I cried as I told the doctor everything. Seeing his pained expression, I forced a smile. Just as I was about to say “It’s okay,” a group of security guards burst in. They grabbed me and dragged me out. “Mr. Sterling says you’re faking illness to waste resources. Any doctor who helps you loses their license!” Chapter 3 The doctor tried to stop them, pleading for me. But Lucas Sterling had power. The guards were paid. No one dared to defy him. I was thrown onto the street. The impact sent shooting pains through my bones. I lay on the ground, twitching. The kind doctor ran out and draped his only coat over my thin frame. “Girl, I have a family to feed. I can’t lose this job. I can’t help you, but here…” He shoved a bottle of painkillers into my hand before the guards chased him away. I swallowed a handful of pills. It took a long time for the pain to dull. I stood up shakily, staring blankly at the busy street. It was almost evening. Everyone was rushing home for New Year’s Eve. Their faces glowed with happiness. Only I wandered aimlessly, having nowhere to go. I sniffled, wrapping the coat tighter, but the wind cut through me. I found a sheltered corner and curled up to stay warm. But as I crouched down, I looked across the street. In a high-end restaurant, I saw the familiar family of four. A three-tier cake sat on the table. Lily, wearing a tiara, closed her eyes to make a wish. Dad put a pink diamond necklace around her neck. Mom snapped photos. Lucas held a party popper, ready to fire. When she blew out the candles, they cheered. Lily was surrounded by love, a true princess. Maybe it was my imagination, but she seemed to glance out the window, smirking in my direction. I didn’t think much of it. I hadn’t eaten in two days. My stomach hurt. I closed my eyes, trying to sleep the pain away. Just as I drifted off, icy water splashed over my head. I woke up shivering violently. Lily stood over me, sneering. “It really is you. I had those people torture you so much, how are you not dead yet?” “Tough life, huh?” My heart stopped. The bullying at the orphanage… Lily ordered it? She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I’m the Sterling heiress now. You’re just a useless dog!” She was right. So what if I knew? No one would care. No one would believe me. The pain in my bones was excruciating. I didn’t have the energy to fight. It didn’t matter. I was dying anyway. If I ignored her, maybe this New Year’s Eve would be bearable. But Lily wasn’t satisfied with my silence. She squatted down, frowning. “Trying to play the victim so Mom and Dad see you and take you back?” She laughed, her dimples deepening as her words grew more venomous. “Let’s see who they care about more!” Before I could react, she pulled out a knife and stabbed me in the thigh! Chapter 4 I screamed, twisting in agony. The pain nearly knocked me out. Instinctively, I reached out to push her away. But before I even touched her, she threw herself down the stairs. “Ah! Mom! Dad! Lucas! It hurts!” Her delicate cry drowned out my screams. Through the blur, I saw the three people in the restaurant look up instantly. They rushed out, crossing the street like madmen. Lucas arrived first, scooping Lily up, asking frantically what happened. Mom and Dad followed, hovering over her, calling her “baby.” They checked her for injuries and called an ambulance. Lily cried in Lucas’s arms, pointing a trembling finger at me. “I… I thought the person outside looked like Sarah, so I came to check. I wanted her to celebrate my birthday, but…” The three of them followed her gaze and finally looked at me, lying in the dark like a dead fish. They froze. Their eyes were filled with unreadable emotions. But when Lucas looked from Lily to me, his gaze turned to hatred. I stared blankly at the family who once cherished me. Now, they looked at me like an enemy. The pain and years of injustice surged. I waved my hand, desperate to explain. “I didn’t touch her! She hurt me first! Please believe…” Before I could finish, Lucas slapped me so hard my head snapped to the side. “Sarah! You stalked me here to ruin Lily’s birthday? And you try to frame her?” Dad’s face was black with disappointment. “Sarah! Must you drive Lily to death? All these years and you only learned how to lie!” I touched my burning cheek with a shaking hand. It hurt. But I laughed. A manic, broken laugh. Always like this! They were my real family! But they couldn’t see my emaciated body. They couldn’t see the blood soaking my pants. They only saw Lily! I should have known better than to hope. I looked down and spoke to Lucas, my voice hollow. “If I don’t make it through the night, will you come collect my body?” Lucas scoffed, his eyes full of disdain. “Ideally. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about you bullying Lily ever again.” His indifference hollowed me out. Death didn’t seem scary anymore. “Promise me,” I whispered. So I wouldn’t scare anyone else. Lucas didn’t look at me again. The ambulance arrived, and he rushed to help Lily onto the stretcher. Before getting in, Mom looked at me with worry. “Lucas, Sarah doesn’t look right. Were we too harsh?” Lucas snorted. “She’s faking. Too harsh? This is letting her off easy.” The ambulance drove away, leaving me alone in the street like a rat. My head grew heavy. I watched the New Year’s fireworks bloom in the sky and slowly fell asleep… The New Year began, but Lucas felt increasingly uneasy. Thinking of me left a gaping hole in his chest. He suggested bringing me home early. Just as the family agreed, a news report flashed on the TV. [Breaking News: Body of young woman found frozen on Changsheng Street. Identified as Sarah Sterling, ward of the state.]

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Chapter 1 Three years into my captivity, I stumbled upon a thread online. The topic was: [Can teenage love really last?] The OP, Dreamer_1998, wrote about a boy who fought for her, who bought her breakfast every morning. Who plastered love letters all over the school bulletin board. Every word was soaked in obvious infatuation. But when I saw the posting date and the username, I froze. That post was from me, ten years ago. Ten years later, the boy who wrote those love letters is my husband. He has chained my ankles to the floor. Scattered around me are explicit photos of him and a rising starlet. I swallowed the handful of sleeping pills I’d been hoarding for months, and typed a cynical reply. [Don’t say yes. Love like that always ends the same way.] … The bitter taste of the pills hadn’t even faded when the door slammed open. Julian slapped the bottle out of my hand, his teeth clenched. “Are you crazy?!” Before I could speak, he scooped me up and ran to the car. He ran countless red lights, a chorus of horns and curses trailing behind us. After the cold stomach pump tube was finally removed, he grabbed me by the collar. “What are you trying to pull now?” “You know Serena is accepting an award today. Did you stage this just to embarrass her during her interview?” My face was pale, but I smiled. “She sent me photos of you two in bed just to see me lose it, didn’t she?” “You love her so much. Why not just let me die and make room for her?” He took a deep breath. “You know I won’t let anyone replace you. Even if she has a child, if you want…” “I don’t want it!” I cut him off sharply. “Julian, don’t talk to me about children!” It felt like I was back in that night of despair, suffocating. In an instant, I lost the strength to argue. I touched my stomach with trembling hands. “Julian, let me go. Serena can give you many children. But we… we never will again.” His cool fingers touched my cheek. Julian regained the composure of a man used to power. “You know I love you the most.” The most, but not the only one. I laughed until tears came. He leaned down, as if to kiss the corner of my eye. I turned my head away, and his movement froze in the air. After a long time, he sighed softly. “Promise me, no more stupid things, okay? Or your reporter friend might get very worried about you.” I understood his threat. Don’t try to die again, or he’d hurt my friend. When he finally walked out of the ward, I collapsed on the bed. I had had enough of this mutual torture. My phone vibrated in my hand. [Ends the same way? Why do you say that?] My numb heart suddenly pounded violently. I stared at the words. I finally realized the post I just replied to wasn’t a hallucination. [Do you… know Julian?] Another reply popped up. I felt like I had grabbed a lifeline. Tears crashed onto the screen as my trembling fingers typed furiously. [He is your future husband. And I am you, ten years from now.] [Don’t go near him! Run!] Chapter 2 After a brief silence, a simple reply came back. [Proof.] I stared at the phone blankly. For a moment, I couldn’t think of anything to prove I was the wife who had walked beside Julian for ten years. The five hundred love letters he wrote me? I burned them all the night I found him in bed with Serena, throwing the flaming papers onto their naked bodies. Our marriage certificate? I stuffed it into the bouquet Serena received at her movie wrap party. She got dragged by the media for months. In the end, the scraps of that certificate landed on my face, along with Julian’s slap. They say love is armor. But the proofs of our love became the blades I used to try and hurt him. Except he had new armor now, and my old blade was useless against him. Only I was left scarred. Finally, I lifted my shirt and sent a photo of a faded tattoo on my left side, over the fifth rib, closest to the heart. A red koi fish. Julian had the same tattoo. Ten years ago, I was harassed by thugs on the street. Julian fought them alone until his shirt was soaked in blood. The worst wound slashed diagonally across his chest. An inch deeper, and he would have died. Later, that deep scar became a vibrant red koi. The boy smiled recklessly at me in the setting sun. “Lily, I want you in my heart forever.” I cried until I couldn’t breathe, moved by his fiery love and my own hopeless infatuation. That day, after posting on the forum, I accepted Julian’s confession. And I got that tattoo branded on myself too. When my strict parents found out, they were furious and demanded we break up. For the first time, the obedient daughter rebelled. I ran away from home and went to the city where my dream university was located, with Julian. Maybe my family gave up on me, because they never looked for me again. I felt lost, but with Julian by my side, everything seemed worth it. Julian didn’t have the grades for college, so he gave up on school to work and support me. We huddled in a cramped rental, sharing a cup of instant noodles. In the freezing winter, we kept each other warm. Under a dim light bulb, I blew out the candles on a cheap cake and made a wish to become a famous screenwriter. Julian rested his chin on his hands, smiling at me. “As you wish. Your personal genie has received your request.” He took off his construction vest and became a bodyguard for a powerful man. After five years of living on the edge, his suits got more expensive, and our apartment got bigger. Finally, he handed me a project proposal. “Wife, go pick the actors for your story.” And Serena was the heroine I chose. She had just come out of the mountains, covered in dust and grit. But her eyes shone with a terrifying light, a stubbornness to seize any opportunity. She said: “Mrs. Vance, I won’t let you down.” That aura perfectly matched the heroine in my script. We were the same age and shared similar interests. Soon, we talked about everything. Countless nights, we revised the script together, too busy to go home. Julian would bring hot meals to the set, watching us devour them like starving wolves. The doting look in his eyes warmed me like the sun. But tragically, it also shone into Serena’s heart. Chapter 3 A month before filming ended, I got pregnant. I went home early due to morning sickness, only to find clothes scattered on the floor leading to our bedroom. Two familiar figures were entangled on the bed. When I slapped Serena, Julian only held my hand, frowning and asking if my palm hurt. I slapped him backhand across the face. He pushed his tongue against his cheek, then smiled and hugged me. “Don’t get upset, it’s bad for the baby. I was just having some fun.” But the man who said he was “just playing” chased after Serena the moment she ran out, pale-faced. The next day, headlines screamed that the CEO of Vance Group sent dozens of cars to search every street in the city for his love. That night, alone in the hillside villa, I couldn’t find a ride to the hospital. I lay in despair as my child slipped away from my body. Later, I cried, I screamed. I sold the news of Julian’s affair to his rivals. I added scenes where Serena had to jump into freezing water. Julian didn’t even look up as he had the snitches thrown out. He just fed me chicken soup. “Stock prices will rise again. Serena’s cold will heal. As long as you’re happy, anything goes.” Until the wrap party. Reporters swarmed. I exposed the fact that Serena was Julian’s mistress. Serena was gaining some fame from leaked photos. Overnight, the internet attacked her, nearly destroying her career. I thought I won. But I couldn’t see clearly then. Thinking someone doesn’t love me anymore isn’t losing. It wasn’t until Serena jumped into the river due to the backlash that I realized I had lost completely. Julian’s slap hurt more than a knife. He carried the soaking wet Serena away. “Lily, I didn’t save you back then just for you to become such a vicious woman.” Julian, who now controlled the city, found it easy to protect someone. And just as easy to destroy someone. He released news that I forced Serena into the freezing water by changing the script. He told the story of how he dropped out of school to support me. Unsurprisingly, I became the ungrateful, blood-sucking wife. Julian’s cheating became a justified release after years of sacrifice. And Serena became Julian’s true salvation. I don’t remember how many times I cried or cursed back then. I only remember that in the end, I gave up. I only asked that Serena not star in the script I poured my heart and soul into. I thought it was dirty. But Julian was gentle, his words colder than the moonlight. “This story suits Serena perfectly. She could win Best Newcomer with it.” “You owe her. Consider this script your compensation.” That broke my last line of defense. Why? I asked myself repeatedly in the dark. I wasn’t the one who did wrong. Why was everyone laughing while only I cried? I never slept well again. I hated too much. I hated how the person I loved became unrecognizable. I hated losing my child, my work, while the thief was smug and unharmed. I hated until I was hysterical, crying all night. Hated until I could only pick up scissors and cut my wrists, just to relieve the unbearable pain in my heart. When I finally stopped hating so much, I told Julian: “Let’s divorce.” He refused. I wasn’t surprised. I knew his possessiveness. A director once thought I was a nobody and tried to touch me. Julian dragged him out personally. I never saw that director again. I should have fought him angrily again. But I was too tired. I didn’t want to fight anymore. I just smiled, and then jumped off the roof without hesitation. But fate is cruel. I couldn’t even die. After being saved, Julian locked me in bed to recover. Numbly, I watched him on TV, clapping with a smile as Serena accepted her award. Looking back, these ten years felt like a lifetime. If I hadn’t seen that post, the rest of my life would have been no different. The other side was silent for a long time after reading my story. My heart sank. Until the phone dinged again. [I understand. How can I help you?] It was like the sun breaking through clouds. I held the phone, weeping with joy. Just as I was about to reply, the phone was snatched away. “What are you looking at? So excited?” Julian’s gaze fell on me. Then slowly turned to the phone. My heart seized in an instant. Chapter 4 Julian looked confused. After a moment, he put the phone aside. “You can be this happy looking at a phone with no signal?” “Are you bored staying home? I’ll take you out tomorrow.” I glanced at the screen. It was blank. I didn’t dare show anything on my face, so I nodded gently. The next day, he took me to a secluded valley. Quiet, elegant. A good place for mental recuperation. But I was obsessed with avoiding Julian to reply to the post. I used the bathroom as an excuse to pull out the phone. But no matter what I did, I couldn’t find the thread again. I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cave. Hope shattered again. I walked out in a daze. And ran into Serena. She was no longer the dusty girl from before. The diamond ring on her hand screamed Julian’s favor. Her exquisite styling made her look like a star. Her fingers traced the countless scars on my wrist. “Lily, how have you been these years?” I didn’t want to deal with her fake concern. Maybe three years ago, I would have fought her. But after three years of captivity, I was like burnt wood—no spark left. I pulled away and kept walking. Serena started sobbing. “It’s right for you to blame me. But I came today to help you escape.” I stopped dead and looked up at her. She bit her lip and touched her belly. “I don’t need your forgiveness. But I’m carrying Julian’s child. I have to think about his future.” “I can’t let him be called a bastard. Only if you leave can I become Mrs. Vance.” I believed her. I wanted freedom too much. She led me step by step around the patrolling bodyguards. As the exit got closer, my steps quickened involuntarily. But Serena stopped. She smiled, the look of a hunter trapping prey. “Julian! Lily is trying to escape!” I turned, staring at her in disbelief. Serena dropped the act. She hung up the phone, her eyes cold and calculating. She walked up to me and scratched my face with her ring, drawing blood. “Lily, I can finally take revenge for three years ago.” I closed my eyes, finally realizing Serena wanted to send me into a deeper hell. If I was caught now, Julian would never let me out again. As for the title of Mrs. Vance… a wife who never appears in public doesn’t matter. So what if she occupies the title? My body is ruined. Her child will be Julian’s only heir anyway. Understanding everything, hate surged in me uncontrollably. I had nothing left. Why couldn’t I even have freedom? I looked at Serena and laughed maniacally. “Then let’s die together.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the deep pool behind us. “Lily!” Julian arrived and jumped in without hesitation. But the struggling Serena grabbed his arm. “Julian, save our baby…” Hesitation flickered in Julian’s eyes, but vanished. He swam toward Serena. “Lily, hold on! I’ll be right back for you!” I watched his back and smiled. No need, Julian. You don’t need to come back. I never want… to return to your side again. I opened my mouth, letting the icy water rush into my lungs. My body grew heavier and heavier. The sound of rushing water wrapped around me layer by layer. I closed my eyes. Everything faded. Just at the end of consciousness, I thought I heard two frantic shouts. “Lily!” “Miss!”

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Chapter 1 On New Year’s Eve, I was scrolling through my phone when I stumbled upon a livestream from a local news drone. Fireworks were exploding over the river, painting the night sky in brilliant colors. And there, under the vibrant lights, was my husband of five years, passionately kissing his childhood sweetheart. I calmly closed the livestream and dialed his number. It rang for a long time before he picked up. The background noise was deafening. “Where are you?” I asked. A brief silence followed before he answered, “At the office. I told you I was working overtime.” “Working overtime with your childhood sweetheart?” The silence on the other end stretched longer this time. I heard my own voice, terrifyingly calm. “You always do this. whenever you face a difficult question, you just stop talking.” “Well, from now on, you don’t have to answer anymore.” I hung up. The apartment was suffocatingly quiet. On the dining table, six dishes and a soup had long since gone cold. I stared at the spread for a long time, suddenly feeling exhausted. Five years ago today, Liam was cooking hot pot for me in our cramped rental apartment. Suddenly, he pulled out a velvet box. “Chloe, marry me.” “I can only afford silver right now, but I promise, one day I’ll replace it with diamond.” His eyes shone brighter than any gem when he said those words. I still wear that silver ring. Even though it’s tarnished now, I couldn’t bear to take it off. He said he’d give me the best life, and I believed him. When we first started our company, it was just the two of us. He handled the tech; I handled finance and sales. During the day, he coded and I met clients. At night, we packed orders together, squatting in the hallway eating instant noodles. Once, to meet a bid deadline, I slept only eight hours over three days and fainted at the print shop. Liam carried me to the hospital on his back, trembling the whole way. His eyes were red. “Let’s quit. I’ll get a regular job. I can’t let you suffer like this.” I shook my head. “No, we’re almost there. I can hold on.” And we did it. The day we got our first round of funding, Liam spun me around the office. Then he suddenly crouched down and buried his face in my chest. I felt my shirt getting wet. He said, “Chloe, I’ll be good to you for the rest of my life.” By the third year, the company was on track. We bought a house, upgraded our car. In the fourth year, he knelt on one knee and replaced the silver ring with a diamond one. “Wifey, let’s have a baby.” I touched my belly and smiled, nodding. I had just secured my position as CFO, but seeing the hope in his eyes, I handed in my resignation. Two months into the pregnancy, my morning sickness was so severe I was hospitalized. Liam ran between the company and the hospital every day, the dark circles under his eyes deepening. I touched his face. “Let’s hire a nurse.” He shook his head. “My wife, I take care of her myself.” Back then, I thought this was what happiness looked like. Until six months ago, when his childhood sweetheart, Sophie, returned from abroad after her divorce. Liam picked her up from the airport. He came home late that night, smelling of unfamiliar perfume. Taking off his coat, he said: “Sophie came back alone with a kid. It’s tough for her. I helped her find a place.” From then on, “pitiful” became Sophie’s label. Her car broke down? Liam went to fix it. Her kid got sick? Liam went to the hospital with them. She was sad? Liam drank with her until late at night. I went from asking to questioning, from questioning to arguing. Liam said, “Chloe, you weren’t like this before.” I said, “Liam, you weren’t like this before either.” Eventually, he stopped talking. No matter how much I screamed or cried. He would just watch quietly, then turn and leave. Leaving me alone, feeling like a lunatic. Even tonight, on New Year’s Eve, he didn’t bother with a convincing lie. He just said he was working overtime. While kissing another woman on a livestream. The front door opened. Liam walked in, saw me and the table full of food, and paused. “Still awake?” I didn’t speak. He walked over, the scent of perfume making me nauseous. “Something urgent came up at the office…” he started. I cut him off. “Prenatal checkup tomorrow. 8 AM.” Liam opened his mouth, his prepared excuse dying in his throat. I stood up to leave, but he grabbed my wrist. “Chloe, I’m sorry.” His voice was low. “Just this year. It won’t happen again. Once Sophie is settled…” I gently pulled my hand away. “No need to wait. Liam, let’s get a divorce.” Chapter 2 He froze. “What… what did you say?” I looked him in the eye. “I said, divorce. You sleep in the guest room.” Fireworks exploded outside the window, illuminating his shocked face. “Just because I didn’t spend New Year’s with you? Chloe, really?” I didn’t answer and turned back to the bedroom. Closing the door, I heard him yell: “Why are you making a scene again! Can’t you be more understanding?” Understanding. That word again. I touched my slightly rounded belly and whispered. “Baby, it’s just you and me from now on.” The Chloe who believed in everlasting love died on this New Year’s Eve. The morning of the checkup, it started to rain. After breakfast, Liam’s door was still closed. I knocked. “Leaving at eight.” No response. At 7:50, I grabbed my bag and left. In the elevator, I got a message from Liam: Something came up, should I call you a car? I looked at the screen, remembering the first checkup. He had taken leave a week in advance, nervously crumpling the appointment slip. In the ultrasound room, when the doctor said, “That’s the baby’s heartbeat,” his eyes instantly reddened. Leaving the hospital, he spun me around in the parking lot. “I’m going to be a dad!” Back then, his phone was on 24/7 for me. If I craved spicy noodles from across town, he drove an hour to get them. Now he says, something came up. I replied: No need, I’ll drive. The hospital was crowded as always. The obstetrics waiting area was full of pregnant women, most accompanied by their husbands. The checkup went smoothly. The doctor smiled at the ultrasound screen. “Baby is healthy.” I looked at the tiny figure, my nose stinging. This is my child. Mine alone. “Next time is the Down syndrome screening. Your husband needs to come sign for it,” the doctor instructed. I nodded, wondering how far the divorce agreement would be by then. Walking out, I went to the pharmacy to pick up vitamins. While waiting in line, I caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. Liam. He was holding a three or four-year-old boy, walking over from the pediatric emergency department. Sophie followed beside him, her eyes red and swollen. The little boy looked flushed and lethargic, leaning against Liam. Liam looked down and said something to him, his expression gentle. They didn’t see me. I stood there, the medicine bag suddenly heavy in my hand. So he remembered to come to the hospital today. Just not for me. “Chloe?” Liam suddenly turned around, his face changing when he saw me. He hurriedly handed the child to Sophie and walked over quickly. Liam glanced at the medicine bag. “You… finished the checkup?” “Yeah.” “Chloe, I didn’t mean to bail on you, it’s just…” The little boy started crying. “Uncle Liam! It hurts…” Sophie held the child, looking over with red eyes. “Liam, Kayden wants you to hold him…” Liam looked torn. I found this scene ridiculous. “Go ahead. The child is important.” “Chloe, Kayden suddenly had a high fever and passed out. Sophie couldn’t handle it alone, so I…” Sophie screamed, “Liam! Kayden threw up!” The child vomited all over himself and soiled Liam’s coat. Instinctively, he rushed to take care of the boy. I turned and walked away. “Chloe!” he shouted from behind. I didn’t look back. As the elevator doors closed, I saw him rushing the child to the restroom. Sophie followed, holding onto his arm. They looked just like a family. In the car, I gripped the steering wheel, my hands shaking. Not from anger, but from cold. A cold that seeped into my bones. My phone buzzed. A message from Liam: Kayden isn’t doing well. I’ll be home late. I stared at the screen and typed emotionlessly: Liam, when you get back, we’ll discuss the divorce. My finger hovered over the send button. I deleted it and retyped: Don’t bother coming back. Sent. Then I opened my contacts and found Lawyer Chen. The call connected. My voice was calm. “Mr. Chen, this is Chloe Qin.” “I’d like to consult you about a divorce.” Chapter 3 Lawyer Chen met me at a coffee shop. “Ms. Qin, we can draft a divorce agreement, but if you can provide evidence of him transferring assets, we’ll have a stronger position for property division.” I stirred my coffee. “What kind of evidence?” Chen pushed up his glasses. “For example, gifting marital assets to others without your consent.” “Think back, has your husband done anything unusual?” I thought about it. Then I thought of Sophie’s social media. Starting six months ago, her posts showed increasingly expensive items. Floor-to-ceiling windows in a new apartment, the steering wheel of a white Porsche, Hermès bags, designer kids’ clothes. She didn’t work and was freshly divorced. Where did the money come from? “I remember she said her ex-husband didn’t give much alimony,” I murmured. Chen nodded. “Then there’s a problem. You might want to look into it.” When I got home, I scrolled through Sophie’s timeline. I screenshot every background, license plate, even the logos on shopping bags. Then I called Maya. Maya was my apprentice when I was at the company. After I resigned, she took my position. “Chloe?” Her voice was hushed. I got straight to the point. “Maya, do me a favor.” “Check the company accounts. Any unusual expenditures recently? Like large transfers to an individual.” Silence on the other end. Maya’s voice dropped even lower. “Yes. Mr. Lu approved several transfers in the last six months. The recipient is Sophie Su. The biggest one was for a house purchase, two million.” My heart sank. “What else?” “A car purchase, eight hundred thousand. The rest are miscellaneous expenses, totaling…” She paused. “About another million.” Three million eight hundred thousand. I hung up, my hands trembling. Not because of the money. Because last week, I mentioned booking a postpartum center for about a hundred thousand. Liam frowned. “Too expensive. Just let my mom take care of you.” At that very moment, Sophie’s timeline showed off a new Birkin bag. I spent the night logging into the company’s financial system. It was the account I used before resigning. I still had admin access. Liam hadn’t changed it. Or maybe he never thought I’d check. The transfer records were clear. From the time Sophie returned until now, six months. Three million, eight hundred twenty-seven thousand, four hundred dollars. House, car, luxury goods, kids’ clothes, early education, housekeeping… Every entry stabbed my eyes. I took screenshots, saved them, backed them up. Then I waited for Liam. He came back at dawn, smelling of alcohol. Seeing me sitting in the living room, he paused. “Haven’t slept?” “The company account is missing three million eight hundred and twenty thousand,” I said bluntly. Liam’s expression froze. “Sophie’s house, car, those bags. You bought them?” Silence. More silence. “Speak.” My voice was soft. “Chloe, Sophie just got divorced, raising a kid alone isn’t easy. I was just help—” I cut him off. “Helping to the tune of a house and a car?” “Liam, our first year, we carried samples onto the bus ourselves to save five hundred bucks on shipping. Now you give away nearly four million without blinking?” He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. “One week. Put all the money back into the company account.” “Otherwise, I will sue you for transferring marital assets and report you to the tax bureau.” His eyes widened. “Are you crazy? You’d ruin me over money?” I looked into his eyes. “Not for money. For me and my child.” He stood there like a statue. Silent. Always like this. Whenever it gets hard, he shuts down. I reiterated. “Seven days. If the money isn’t there, see you in court.” I turned back to the bedroom. Closing the door, I heard him slump onto the sofa and the click of a lighter. I touched my belly, feeling the tiny life there. Suddenly, the pain didn’t matter anymore. I only wanted one thing now. To take my child and the money, and leave. As for Liam, he had to pay the price. Chapter 4 On the seventh day, the money hadn’t arrived. The lawyer’s letter reached the company. When Liam came home that night, he slammed the letter on the table. “Chloe, do you have to do this?” I asked calmly: “What choice do I have? Wait for you to give all our money away and let me and the baby starve?” His eyes were red. “Our five years of relationship…” I interrupted him. “You destroyed the relationship yourself.” “Liam, every time you chose her, you were destroying us.” “Every time you stayed silent, you were erasing us.” He was speechless again. Over the weekend, I went out to buy baby supplies. When I returned, I heard laughter before I even opened the door. Inside, the living room was a playground. Balloons, streamers, toys everywhere. Several kids were running around. Sophie’s son, Kayden, was riding on Liam’s shoulders, laughing hysterically. Sophie came out of the kitchen wearing an apron. Her smile froze when she saw me. Her voice was tiny. “Chloe… today is Kayden’s birthday. Your place is big, so I thought…” Liam put Kayden down, looking awkward. “Chloe, let me explain…” “Who allowed this?” My voice was icy. The room went quiet. The kids stared. I enunciated every word. “This is my house. Who allowed you to bring strangers in?” Sophie’s eyes reddened. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave right now… Kayden, let’s go…” “Sophie!” Liam grabbed her and turned to me. “Chloe, it’s just a birthday party for a kid. Is this necessary?” Is this necessary. I’ve heard those three words too many times. “Get out,” I said. “Chloe!” “Take these people and get out!” Kayden suddenly screamed and charged at me. “Bad woman! Don’t yell at my mommy!” He hit me hard. I lost my balance and fell backward. My lower back smashed into the corner of the dining table. Pain exploded. Worse, a tearing cramp seized my abdomen. I looked down. Bright red blood was spreading rapidly on my light-colored pants. “Blood…” someone screamed. Liam rushed to help me, but I pushed him away. I gritted my teeth. “Call an ambulance… call an ambulance!” In the ambulance, waves of pain washed over me. I grabbed the nurse’s hand. “My baby… my baby…” The nurse comforted me, but her eyes said everything. I was wheeled into the ER. When I woke up, the doctor shook his head at me. “I’m sorry. We couldn’t save the baby.” I didn’t cry. I just stared at the ceiling, my mind blank. In the ward, Liam stood by the bed, eyes bloodshot. “Chloe, I’m sorry…” “Get out.” “We’re still young, we can try ag—” “Get out!” He didn’t move. I grabbed a glass and threw it. It shattered at his feet. “Get out!” Liam finally left. I lay in the hospital bed, touching my flat stomach. It was empty, as if that little life had never been there. This morning, I felt the baby kick. Now, nothing. The last link between Liam and me was broken. The next day, I placed the divorce agreement in front of him. “Sign it.” Liam looked at the “leave with nothing” clause and looked up sharply. “Chloe, you…”

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