After being reborn, I decided to become everything Jason hates. He likes girls with long hair; he likes women who are gentle and demure. So, I chopped off my waist-length hair. I went surfing, skiing, and partied all night with my friends. In my past life, I only found out after we got married that he had always been in love with his adopted sister, Felicity. His mother threatened suicide to keep them apart, so he married me as a compromise. Why? Because I looked a little like her. After the wedding, he was cold to me, constantly entangled with Felicity. I cried, I fought, and in the end, on my way to ask for a divorce, I died in a car crash, full of regret. In this life, my friend asked me, confused: “Are you doing all this to get Jason’s attention?” “No,” I said. “I’m doing this to get away from him.” 1 My best friend, Lily, was celebrating her birthday. She invited me to the party. When I walked into the private room, the place was buzzing. No one paid attention to me. Until I walked up to Lily. “Whoa, Gwen! You cut your hair?!” Lily has no inside voice. Her shout made everyone turn their heads. The room went silent. Everyone’s eyes landed on my new bob cut. Their expressions were… complicated. I pretended not to notice. I smiled. “Yeah, just got it cut. The stylist said it suits me. Does it look okay?” “It looks good.” “Yeah, very nice.” A few scattered compliments. But while they said the words, their eyes drifted nervously in one direction. “I don’t think it looks good at all.” The blunt criticism cut through the polite murmurs. In that direction, Felicity covered her mouth, looking like she’d made a mistake. She looked “regretful.” “Oops, sorry Gwen. I just blurted out what I was thinking. You know I’m just straightforward like that. You won’t be mad, right?” Before I could say anything, Jason stood up. He looked right at me and repeated it. “Yeah. It doesn’t look good at all.” He defended her immediately. The atmosphere got awkward fast. I shrugged, unbothered. “It doesn’t matter. I like it.” 2 Jason called me outside. We stood facing each other in the hallway. The dim lighting cast shadows over his handsome face, but I could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface. “Gwen, who told you to cut your hair? Didn’t I say I like long hair on girls? As my girlfriend, you…” “Jason.” I cut him off. “Let’s break up.” The air froze for a second. He frowned, about to speak. Inside the room, the sound of Felicity and Lily arguing erupted. Jason’s frown deepened. He scoffed, tossed a careless “Suit yourself” over his shoulder, and rushed back inside. I watched his retreating back and let out a long breath. 3 I met Jason in high school. Freshman year, I broke my leg dancing and had to use crutches. Because of that, I got bullied a lot. They called me “Cripple.” They tripped me on purpose. Once, some kids stole my homework. I couldn’t chase them, and I was crying out of frustration when I met Jason. Sometimes, you fall for someone in a single moment. Jason not only helped me, but he also protected me for three years. Even after my leg healed, following him became a habit. Everyone knew I liked him. He casually mentioned he liked girls with long hair, so I grew mine out. He said girls should be “gentle and quiet,” so I quit the dance team. I stopped skiing. I stopped surfing. I gave up my friends, my hobbies, and carved myself into a shape he liked until I was unrecognizable. My efforts paid off. We started dating. He even took me to meet his family. His family had an adopted daughter named Felicity. When I met her, she clung to Jason’s arm intimately. “Gwen is so pretty. You’re lucky, big bro. Hee hee, Gwen and I actually look a bit alike.” A casual remark, laced with hidden hostility. I didn’t think much of it then. I didn’t notice Jason stiffen for a second. In my past life, I married Jason. But after the wedding, he was always cold. Until Felicity sent me a video of them together. In the video, they were doing things only a husband and wife should do. Felicity’s taunting words were like a knife to my heart. “If Mom hadn’t stopped us, I would be Mrs. Sterling!” “You think marrying him means you won? Hardly. He doesn’t love you. You’re just a replacement for me!” Shocked and furious, I coughed up blood. I grabbed my documents and drove to find Jason to demand a divorce. But I crashed on the way. I died in agony. I never expected to open my eyes again. Reborn. Back to when we first got into college. This time, I tried hard to become everything Jason hated. That unrecognizable replacement? I quit. 4 When I went back into the room, Felicity was crying in Jason’s arms. Jason looked cold. He stared at Lily and said, “Lily, apologize to my sister.” Lily straightened her neck. “Why should I apologize to that pick-me girl?” “She started badmouthing Gwen first. I just called her out. If you want an apology, make her apologize to Gwen first!” Felicity’s eyes were red. She spoke in a small, aggrieved voice. “But I was just telling the truth. Is that wrong…” She looked up, tears shimmering in her eyes. She looked like she had suffered the greatest injustice in the world. Lily wasn’t buying it. “Calling you a pick-me and saying you have a foul mouth is also telling the truth. I’m not wrong either!” “Lily! Enough!” Jason shouted. His tall frame stepped forward, imposing and threatening. Lily didn’t back down an inch. Just then, they all saw me. A glint of calculation flashed in Felicity’s eyes. “Gwen, you’re finally back.”

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On the day of the SATs, the most popular girl in school found out the billionaire’s son was stranded in the suburbs. She forced the school bus driver to turn around and launch a rescue mission. In my past life, I called the police immediately and stopped her. The whole class arrived on time, aced the test, and got into top universities. But the next day, news broke that the billionaire’s son was engaged—to the girl who had rescued him. My classmate, furious, kidnapped me and dragged me to the rooftop. “You ruined my chance to marry into billions! You ruined my life!” She pushed me off the edge. I died instantly. After my death, the police interviewed my classmates. To their surprise, everyone defended her. “We weren’t going to be late. She ruined Chloe’s dream. Anyone would snap.” “She was always meddling. She deserved it.” Because of their testimony, Chloe got a light sentence. She became an internet sensation, dubbed the “Warrior for Love,” and made a fortune after her release. When I opened my eyes, I was back on that bus. Back to the moment Chloe demanded the driver turn around. This time, I smiled brightly. “Go for it,” I said. “Chase that love. The SATs are nothing compared to true romance.” 1 Even after becoming a wealthy influencer, Chloe wasn’t satisfied. She hired thugs to kidnap my parents. She tortured them until their chests caved in, soaking the floor in blood. Then she stepped on my father’s face. “If your daughter hadn’t ruined my chance, I’d be Mrs. Vance right now! The envy of everyone!” “She’s dead, but she wasted five years of my youth. A father paying for his daughter’s debt seems fair, right?” She pushed them from the eighth floor. They died in agony while she watched, filming it for the dark web. My soul hovered above, screaming, tearing at the air, powerless. Then, everything went black. “Claire, what’s your problem? This bus isn’t yours. Who are you to tell the driver not to turn around?” I blinked, standing in the aisle of the bus. Chloe was glaring at me, eyes burning with fury. “Julian Vance is the richest heir in the state. Do you know how many kidnappers are out there? Every second counts!” “You’re heartless. Even if you get into Harvard, you’ll still be a scumbag.” “Besides, no one else is objecting. Majority rules, understand?” The driver had slowed the bus to a crawl. He chimed in with a smile. “Don’t worry, miss. It’s a small city. Thirty minutes round trip to the suburbs. We won’t be late.” That assumed no traffic. But today was the SATs. Every street near a testing center was gridlocked with anxious parents. Add the mandatory fifteen-minute check-in buffer, and one wrong turn meant missing the test entirely. In my last life, I argued until my throat was raw because I didn’t want my classmates to risk their futures. I never thought my reward would be a gruesome death. Seeing my silence, Chloe scoffed. “We’re the honors class. Even if we have fifteen minutes less, we can finish the test.” “Ask them. Who here wasn’t planning on finishing thirty minutes early anyway? Without us, the test can’t even start.” The other students checked their watches, swayed by the driver’s confidence. “Every mock exam, our class ranks first in the city.” “Even if we’re late, the proctors will understand. We’re saving a life.” “Acting like a class monitor on test day? Gross.” They knew we were just first in this city. The Ivy League acceptance rate doesn’t care about city rankings. It’s a slaughterhouse. I wanted to warn them. But the memory of their twisted faces defending my murderer made me shiver. My heart hardened into ice. I looked up and flashed a brilliant smile. “You guys are right. Since everyone agrees, you should go.” 2 Chloe narrowed her eyes, suspicious of my quick surrender. “You… you’re really not going to stop me?” I nodded and ignored her. I grabbed my bag and stood up. “I’m getting off.” The driver slammed the brakes, nearly rear-ending a sedan. “Miss, you can’t get a cab here easily. Walking will tire you out. How will you take the test?” “Trust me. We’ll save him and be back. You won’t be late.” I shook my head. “You guys go save your hero. I don’t need to be involved.” As I moved toward the door, the driver raised his voice. “Don’t be rash! The teachers and parents are following in cars behind us. If you get off now, what about the others?” The class looked out the windows. Sure enough, a caravan of cars was tailing us. They honked in support. Phones buzzed across the bus. Ding-ding-ding. Parents and teachers texting: Are you nervous? Is everything okay? Chloe typed a quick reply in the class group chat. Everything’s fine! Just hyping each other up on the bus. Relaxing before the test. She looked up at the class. “Don’t tell your parents about this. They won’t understand. If they find out, we’ll get yelled at, and the concert trip will be cancelled!” Before the exams, Chloe claimed she knew a guy who could get cheap tickets to see a pop superstar. Everyone signed up. But the concert was in a sketchy border town notorious for trafficking. I had warned them not to go, and they ostracized me for it. To this day, they were planning the trip behind my back. The students who were about to text their parents put their phones down. But a few of the timid ones were getting cold feet. “If my mom finds out I was late for the SATs, she’ll skin me alive.” “Thirty-five minutes left… round trip is cutting it close. Maybe we shouldn’t go.” “Saving someone is dangerous. Let’s just call the police.” Murmurs of agreement rippled through the bus. But the bold ones sneered. “Look at you cowards. Embarrassing the honors class.” “Twenty of us here. We are the city’s admissions stats. Even if we’re late, they’ll open a VIP lane for us.” “Exactly. They can’t punish all of us. Plus, we’re saving a life. This will be on the news!” I almost laughed. They were so used to being coddled by teachers for their grades that they had lost touch with reality. The SATs weren’t just about them. They were about the sacrifices of every parent in those cars behind us. Seeing the hesitation, Chloe posted an image to the group chat. The bus exploded with excitement. “Sixty million dollar reward?! That’s two million each! Why take the test? Let’s go!” “If this is true, Chloe is our golden ticket!” “Of course it’s true. Chloe has connections. She’s going to be a star after graduation.” “Where are the cowards now? Get off the bus so we get a bigger share!” 3 I checked my phone. Chloe had posted a “Missing Person” bounty for Julian Vance. It looked professional. If I hadn’t lived through this once and known Julian was never missing, I might have believed it. Chloe’s “connections” were just some shady guys she met at a club. She slept her way into a low-budget commercial for a gambling site. Her classmates hyped it up as “modeling” and “debuting.” Blinded by greed, the doubters fell silent. The driver saw his chance. He swerved down a side road, losing the caravan of parents. “Wow, big reward? Lucky day for me! Driving a bus full of geniuses and getting rich?” “This is a shortcut to the suburbs. Thirty minutes round trip, easy.” “Get the money, ace the test. You kids are winners!” The class couldn’t hide their grins, already spending the money in their heads. But the driver’s behavior was suspicious. I checked my watch. Twenty-five minutes to the start. I couldn’t save them. I had to save myself. I marched to the front and banged on the plexiglass partition. “Let me off! I don’t want to save anyone, and I don’t want the money!” I glanced at his ID badge. Frank Miller. Chloe’s last name was Miller. A puzzle piece clicked. In my last life, Chloe didn’t stop until I called the cops. She was unusually persistent. She and the driver must have known each other. They were in on it together. The driver ignored me, accelerating. We were getting farther from the test center. My voice trembled. “Let me off! Or I’m calling the police!” They treated the test like a joke, but I didn’t. I came from a poor family. I was the first person in generations with a shot at an Ivy. Relatives called my parents lucky. But I wasn’t a genius. My bedroom was filled with used pens and practice tests. Calluses on my fingers. Worsening eyesight. My mom waking up at 4 AM to make breakfast. My dad driving me to school in snowstorms. This test was the culmination of eighteen years. I would not fail. The driver didn’t stop. Desperate, I pulled a compass from my pocket and pressed the sharp point against his neck. “Let me off!” The bus gasped. “Whoa, Claire… too far. Just let her off if she wants.” The driver, sweating, slammed on the brakes. Chloe stormed over and snatched my phone. “You can go, but the phone stays. In case you call the cops.” We were nearing the outskirts. Few cars passed here. Without a phone, I couldn’t call a ride. Twenty minutes left. I couldn’t run back in time. I glared at her. “Fine. I promise I won’t call.” “I don’t care about your business. I just want to take the test…” Before I finished, Chloe threw my phone out the window. The door opened. She grabbed my admission ticket and ripped it in half. “Penalty for being a traitor. Now get lost.” I stared in shock, then scrambled off the bus to retrieve my phone and ticket. The phone screen was shattered black. The ticket was confetti. Through the window, my classmates flipped me off. “Thought you wanted to take the test? Run, Forrest, run!” “Embarrassing. Don’t say you were in the honors class.” “Let’s give her a handicap. See if she can score above zero.” 4 Their mockery faded as the bus sped away, splashing mud on my uniform. I watched them disappear toward the horizon, a strange sense of relief washing over me. Laugh while you can. Soon, you’ll be crying, and no one will be able to help you. I tapped my smartwatch and called my mom. In my last life, they took my phone, but they didn’t know about the watch. My mom didn’t ask questions. She heard the panic in my voice and turned the car around immediately. She told my dad to go to the print shop and get a new ticket. Meanwhile, the principal, teachers, and other parents had just arrived at the school. Confused by the missing bus, they received my dad’s call. The principal nearly fainted. “What? They went to rescue someone? On SAT day? Are they insane?!” “Call the suburban police! Get them back now!” Parents collapsed, wailing. “Who talked my son into this? I’ll kill them!” “My daughter is so sensible, she wouldn’t do this! The bus must be stuck in traffic!” “Don’t just stand there! Find them!” Parents jumped back into their cars, racing toward the suburbs. The commotion attracted the media stationed at the school. “A rescue mission during the SATs? Are these kids geniuses or idiots?” “I’ve been a reporter for twenty years. Never seen anyone skip the SATs to play hero. Is it a hijacking?” “Follow them! Hijacking or heroics, this is front-page news!” Reporters piled into vans and followed the parents. I arrived at the test center just as they were leaving. I checked my watch. 9:00 AM. The drive to the suburbs was at least thirty-five minutes one way. They were done for. My dad was waiting at the gate with a fresh admission ticket. He cried when he saw me. “Claire, thank god you’re smart. Thank god.” I felt their fear. They had spent eighteen years preparing for this moment. My teacher looked at me with teary eyes. “Do your best. You’re the only hope for our class now.” I walked into the exam hall, calmed my mind, and focused on every question. Halfway through the test, wailing erupted outside the gates. “It’s only an hour late! Why can’t we go in?” “We are the city’s pride! Future Ivy Leaguers! You can’t ruin our lives!” “Open the gate! Can you take responsibility for ruining our futures?!”

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On the way to take the SATs, my best friend and I saw someone drowning. My friend, focused on the exam, told me to mind my own business. I thought saving a life was more important, so I jumped into the river. I saved the girl, but I missed the test. It turned out the girl was the daughter of the wealthiest family in the city, the Sterlings. To thank me, the Sterlings gave me a huge sum of money. Later, even though I only had an associate’s degree, they gave me a high-paying executive job. I was set for life. My best friend, struggling to find a job despite her degree, went mad with jealousy. She slipped poison into my water. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the SATs. This time, my friend shoved me aside and jumped into the water first. I heard her inner voice, clear as a bell: “This time, that massive fortune is mine.” 1 “Help! Someone’s drowning!” The cry for help snapped me back to reality. Below the bridge, a figure was bobbing in the turbulent water, struggling desperately. The current was strong. Jumping in was dangerous; one slip and you could die too. In my past life, this was the moment. My best friend, Chloe, and I were on our way to the SATs. We both knew how to swim. Chloe told me to ignore it, that the test was more important. This time, Chloe shoved me aside and dove into the rushing river with a splash. She looked back at me, shouting, “Ava, go to the test! Don’t be late! I’m a better swimmer, I’ll save her!” At the same time, I heard her thoughts echo in my mind: “This time, that massive fortune is mine.” Seeing the greedy determination in her eyes, I realized instantly: She had been reborn too. How could I refuse such a kind gesture from my best friend? There were only twenty minutes left before the doors closed. In my last life, I missed the test because I saved the girl. All my years of studying were wasted. I ended up at a community college. My parents were humiliated by Chloe’s parents for years because of it. This time, I turned around and ran toward the testing center without looking back. In my past life, the Sterling family made a huge show of thanking me. They gave me a fortune, and I became a local hero on social media. Everyone praised my beauty and kindness. Back then, Chloe was grinding her teeth in jealousy. She spread rumors that she was going to jump in first, but I stopped her to steal the glory. She said it so much she started believing it. Her hatred grew. Eventually, when she couldn’t find a job after college and saw me—a community college grad—sitting in a C-suite office at Sterling Corp making millions, she snapped. She poisoned my water when I wasn’t looking. Reborn, I glanced back at Chloe struggling in the water as I ran. A cold smile touched my lips. Let’s see who laughs last this time. 2 I sprinted to the testing center, making it just in time. Holding the test booklet, I forced myself to calm down. Failing to get into a good university had been my biggest regret. That summer, I had memorized the questions and answers, obsessing over what could have been. I never thought I’d get a second chance. I wasn’t going to waste it. Chloe was assigned to the same testing room as me. Unlike me in my past life, she didn’t rush back after saving the girl. She didn’t show up at all. When the exam ended, I went home. I saw Chloe getting out of a luxury car in front of her house. She was wearing limited-edition designer clothes, waving goodbye to someone inside the car with a sweet smile. We had been neighbors for years. Naturally, we were close. She turned and saw me. She rushed over, practically vibrating with excitement. “Ava! You’ll never guess who I saved today!” “The Sterlings! The daughter of the richest family in the city, Bella Sterling!” She described the Sterlings’ wealth with wild gestures, but her eyes were fixed on me, probing. She suspected I was reborn too. I feigned ignorance, frowning with concern. “Chloe, you missed the test today. You completely failed the SATs. How are you going to explain this to your mom?” After a few seconds of silence, she confirmed my concern seemed genuine. I heard her thought: “I was overthinking it. Rebirth isn’t like cabbage, you don’t find it everywhere.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Ugh, Ava, you nerd. You’re so boring.” “If my mom knew I latched onto the Sterlings, she’d be praising me.” “Listen, the Sterlings said they’d give me a huge sum of money to thank me. They promised to help me with whatever I need in the future. My life of luxury is starting. Who cares about the SATs?” I pretended to argue, but she cut me off. “The Sterlings said once Bella is out of the hospital, they’re throwing a celebration gala to thank me publicly.” She handed me a black invitation with gold lettering. “Here. I’ll take you to see the world. Once you see it, you’ll know I’m not lying.” 3 Having successfully latched onto the Sterlings, Chloe didn’t even bother showing up for the second day of testing. When I left the house the next morning, Chloe’s mom poked her head out. Seeing me, she sneered. “Ava, going to the test?” “My Chloe is too tired from saving lives yesterday. She’s not going today.” It seemed the whole family was banking on the Sterlings now. As I left, I heard her mutter, “Just a nerd who only knows how to study. No future.” Two days later, Chloe came to find me, excited. The car from the Sterlings had arrived to pick her up for the gala. I didn’t want to go, but Chloe insisted on dragging me along. She said she wanted to show me the high life, but the gloating in her eyes was unmistakable. “In her last life, she lived so glamorously. This time, I need her to see me rise to the top to feel satisfied.” Chloe dreamed of stepping on me to feed her vanity. Thinking of what the Sterlings did to me in my past life, I swallowed my refusal. I decided to go along with Chloe. I really wanted to see if she’d still be this happy once she knew the darkness hiding behind the Sterling name. The gala was held at the Saint Grand Hotel, the most luxurious venue in the city. The moment we stepped out of the car, Chloe was mesmerized by the opulence. Her eyes were filled with naked greed. When she saw my feigned shock, she immediately put on an air of nonchalance, mocking me. “Ava, wipe your drool. I’m a VIP guest of the Sterlings today. I’m being nice by bringing you, so don’t embarrass me.” She lifted her skirt and strutted in on her high heels, chin up, acting like she belonged to the elite. With her exaggerated ballgown, heavy makeup, and waddling walk in heels she couldn’t handle, she looked like a clown. Chloe didn’t notice. She basked in the attention. Mr. Sterling, the head of the family, greeted Chloe with a smile. She beamed and sweetly called him “Uncle Sterling.” Remembering something, she pulled me forward. “This is my good friend Ava. She heard I was coming to the banquet and begged me to bring her along to see the world. You don’t mind, do you, Uncle?” Mr. Sterling looked at me. Chloe tensed up. To highlight Chloe’s “elegance,” I had dressed simply in a white t-shirt and jeans, wearing thick glasses, looking timid. Mr. Sterling glanced at me once, lost interest, and turned back to Chloe. “Of course not. You’re Bella’s savior. You’re welcome to bring friends anytime.” I heard Chloe sigh in relief. “Thank god. He didn’t look at Ava differently like in the last life.” She relaxed completely. 4 Halfway through the banquet, the guest of honor arrived. Bella Sterling wore a haute couture silver mermaid dress. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Her entrance instantly made Chloe look like a child playing dress-up. After some pleasantries, Mr. Sterling brought Bella over. He patted her shoulder. “Bella, this is Chloe. She saved you from the river. Make sure to thank her properly.” Chloe was floating on cloud nine from the praise, completely missing the mockery in Bella’s eyes. All night, Chloe tried desperately to chat with Bella, but Bella’s responses were lukewarm. After the party, the Sterlings arranged a car to take us home. On the way, Chloe complained internally. “The princess is so high and mighty. What is she proud of? If I hadn’t fished her out, she’d be dead.” She resented Bella’s coldness. I recognized the driver. He was a Sterling family loyalist. Chloe didn’t know; she thought he was just a random employee. I spoke up deliberately. “Chloe, Bella seemed quiet tonight. Is she just shy?” Chloe rolled her eyes, blurting out, “I think she’s just looking down on people.” “I’m her savior. Her dad treats me like a VIP. What gives her the right to act like that? Who is she trying to impress?” Through the rearview mirror, I saw the driver glance at Chloe. I knew every word said tonight would reach Bella’s ears. Chloe was in for it.

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Right before college entrance exams, my dying grandfather showed up. He had late-stage leukemia. His offer was simple: whoever takes care of him until he dies gets his multi-million dollar inheritance. My dad spat on the ground and cursed, “You old fraud! Trying to trick me into going back to that shack in the boonies? Keep dreaming!” My mom, busy shuffling mahjong tiles, scoffed, “He just wants us to pay his medical bills. Hasn’t he lived long enough?” I had just been told to drop out of high school and get a job. When I tried to defend Grandpa, my fat, spoiled brother slapped me across the face. “Shut up, you adopted trash! What gives you the right to speak? If you care so much, you go!” Suddenly, a row of text floated across my vision like a live stream comment: [These idiots are so dumb and cruel. They don’t know the old family home got bought out by the government for thirty million dollars!] [Exactly! Money is nothing to the old man. He just wants to leave this world with some dignity.] [Ungrateful wolves. Raising them was a waste.] I gasped. I looked at my grandfather, who was wiping away tears, and then thought about my exams. “Okay!” I said. “I’ll go!” 1 They say having an elder in the house is like having a treasure. But in my family, Grandpa was just trash. Ever since he hurt his leg in the mines and got diagnosed with cancer, he became a thorn in my parents’ side. They hated that he couldn’t earn money and cost them medical fees. Their favorite phrase was, “Why won’t this useless old thing just die?” His biological grandson, my younger brother Tyler, despised him too. “Having a cripple for a grandpa is so embarrassing!” Grandpa never dared to talk back. He just sat in the corner, secretly wiping his tears. When we moved to the suburbs, my parents left him behind in the old countryside shack to rot. They hoped he would starve or freeze to death. But then he showed up with his offer. My parents laughed in his face. “Trying to scam us on your deathbed? Do you think we’re stupid?” Honestly, I didn’t believe a retired miner could have millions either. But when I tried to speak up for him, Tyler shoved me down. Grandpa tried to help me up, mumbling apologies. “Don’t hit your brother… it’s all my fault…” Tyler sneered. “He’s not my brother. You two are perfect for each other—one old corpse and one little bastard.” My mom looked at Tyler with pride. “Exactly. If you’re so noble, Lucas, you go take care of the old man. Get out of my house!” “And quit school while you’re at it! We told you to get a job ages ago!” I struggled to stand up, dizzy. That’s when the floating text appeared again. [The old man is hiding his wealth to test his descendants!] [These morons are celebrating while losing a fortune!] [Forget it, the old man is so heartbroken he’s planning to donate it all!] I took a deep breath. College exams were coming up. If I went to the countryside… But looking at the weeping old man, I gritted my teeth. “Fine! I’ll go!” I would take care of him. And if the money was real? I wanted it. 2 I packed my things into a single duffel bag. My mom threw it out the door. My dad leaned against the doorframe, smoking. “Fed you for fifteen years for nothing. Ungrateful wolf.” Mom added, “If you want to help that old thing, get lost. Saves us a mouth to feed.” I picked up my bag without a word, supported Grandpa, and we headed back to the old house. It was an escape for me, too. Exams were approaching, and they were convinced I wouldn’t get into college. They constantly pressured me to drop out. “Lucas, your grades are trash. You’re not cut out for school!” “Quit and work! We can only afford to send Tyler to college!” My 250-pound brother spent all day gaming and barely passed his classes. Meanwhile, I was in the top 100 of my grade, aiming for a top-tier university. But every time I showed them my report card, Tyler claimed I cheated. My dad would whip me with his belt. “Cheating scum!” Mom would sneer, “Of course he cheated. How could a stray be smarter than our Tyler?” They had sentenced me to failure. But I didn’t want to give up. I wanted to go to college. Grandpa’s house was dilapidated. It was where we all lived before my parents adopted me, back when they were poor. Now, it was the tomb they prepared for him. Despite his bad leg, Grandpa cleaned up the room with the best sunlight for me. “This room is bright. Good for Lucas to study.” Watching him carefully place my tattered books on the desk, my eyes watered. The floating text returned: [Finally, someone who appreciates education! The old man has high hopes for Lucas!] [Tyler is the bad seed lying about cheating. Only Grandpa believes in Lucas!] I was adopted after my parents struggled with infertility. But a year later, Mom got pregnant with Tyler. Suddenly, I was a burden. “Should have never adopted the little bastard.” “Throw him out. We have our own son now.” But due to reputation and laws, they kept me. They named my brother Tyler—strong, ambitious. For me? My dad looked at skinny little me and said, “Been here two years without a real name. Since you’re the extra one, let’s call you Spare.” Just kidding. They named me Lucas, but they treated me like a spare part. Growing up, I was mocked. “Lucas the stray! Tyler’s servant!” When I was ten, Tyler, already pushing 180 pounds, laughed while I got beaten for not wanting to go to school. It was Grandpa who took me to change my middle name to “Hope.” He hoped my life would be bright. It wasn’t. But I was grateful. 3 After I missed a few days of school, Tyler called to gloat. “Hey, stray. Regretting it yet?” “Missed two days already. Bet you have to wake up before dawn to walk to school from that dump!” “Your grades were fake anyway. Now you’re gonna be dead last!” “If you kneel and beg me, maybe I’ll put in a good word with Mom and Dad.” [Pfft! Don’t beg him, Lucas! He’s just trying to gross you out!] [Exactly! With Grandpa’s backing, Lucas doesn’t need school! Grandpa’s about to hire a private tutor!] [A famous tutor is already at the door!] As I stared at the text, a voice called from the yard. “Is this Lucas’s home?” I hung up and went outside. A middle-aged man in plain clothes stood there with a briefcase. “Hi, I’m Lucas.” Grandpa hobbled out. “Ah, Mr. Stone! Lucas, this is the tutor I hired for you.” [Arthur Stone! Grandpa actually got THE Arthur Stone!] [With Stone tutoring him, Lucas is gonna crush it!] I was stunned. Arthur Stone was a legend. His name was on the textbooks we used. He was a former senior educator at the top magnet school in the state and helped write the college entrance exams. Grandpa hired him? I politely greeted him. “Thank you, Mr. Stone.” Stone smiled. “Let’s get to work.” He was incredible. In two hours, I learned more than I had in a month at my crappy high school. Before leaving, Stone praised me to Grandpa. “His foundation is solid. It’s a shame his school put him in the remedial class. With some work, he can get into an Ivy.” Grandpa beamed, organizing a stack of old certificates. “I knew my Lucas had potential.” My heart trembled. Those were my old award certificates. Mom had thrown them in the trash when we moved. Grandpa had saved them. 4 My days in the village were fulfilling. But every night, I heard Grandpa vomiting in pain. My parents said he had cancer and was dying. I looked at the floating text for answers. [Grandpa has leukemia. He’s been suffering for years!] [Luckily he has money for the best treatments. If he relied on his son, he’d be dead already!] [He’s in remission now and just wanted to spend time with family, but those ingrates kicked him out!] Leukemia. It wasn’t necessarily a death sentence if we could find a bone marrow match. I decided to get tested next time I went to the city. Half a month later, I returned to school for a mock exam. Grandpa’s house was far, so I had to bike starting at 5 AM. Grandpa didn’t buy me a car or a house near school. [The old man is testing Lucas!] [He needs to see if Lucas has the grit to handle millions!] At school, Tyler blocked me on the stairs. I looked down at his multiple chins. “The stray came back? Here to see if you’re last or second to last?” I ignored him and picked up my bag he threw on the floor. “You think taking care of that old corpse will get you anything? Idiot!” He was jealous. He thought I’d have a miserable time, but I looked… peaceful.

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On my way home, limping from another day of bullying, I found a notebook. No name, no label. I used it as a diary, writing down everything they did to me. One day, the notebook wrote back. [Go to Lincoln High School. Find Jace Miller. He’ll help you.] July 26, 2009. Wednesday. Overcast. [Today, Chloe and Sarah held me down on broken glass.] [They made me kneel on it.] [They tore my clothes and took photos.] [I cried and begged, but it didn’t help. It only made them worse.] [By the time they were done, my throat was raw from screaming, and every inch of my body hurt.] [I told my parents, crying. They said we’re poor. We can’t afford a better life. We can’t offend them because their families are rich.] [They have parents to protect them. Even the teachers and the principal listen to them.] [Why don’t I have that?] [I don’t want to be bullied anymore. I want someone to protect me too.] I traced the bloodstains and tear marks on the paper. I put down the pen. My knees were screaming in pain. Even the ointment my mom applied stung like fire. Suddenly, the notebook moved. Words appeared on the page, ink bleeding into the paper. [Stop crying. Go to Lincoln High School, senior class, room 3. Find Jace Miller. He can protect you.] I stared blankly at the words. It wasn’t a hallucination. The handwriting was bold and sharp, like a boy’s. I picked up my pen and wrote: [Who are you?] [It doesn’t matter who I am. Just find Jace. He’ll help you.] [Oh wait, it’s 2009. Remember to tell him one thing.] [What thing?] I wrote. [Tell him: “No more cake.”] I stared at the line, utterly confused. If not for the constant, throbbing pain in my knees, I would have thought I was dreaming. I wrote more questions, but the notebook didn’t reply again. Chapter 2 The next day, I got on the 952 bus. The notebook was in my backpack. This wasn’t the way to my school. I was going to Lincoln High. Just to see. To try. When you’re desperate, you grab onto any hope, no matter how faint. The words in the notebook were my only lifeline. Before I left, I slipped a small folding knife into my bag. Lincoln High wasn’t far from my school, Eastside High. It was the best school in the district. I walked right in. Our uniforms looked similar enough that the security guard didn’t stop me. I stumbled around until I found the senior classrooms. Room 3. “Who you looking for?” A boy standing by the door eyed me curiously. I gripped my backpack straps tight, head down. “I’m looking for Jace Miller.” “Jace ain’t here. Try later, sis.” He turned to go back inside. I grabbed his arm in a panic. “Wait… can you tell me where he is? It’s urgent.” The boy looked at my desperate face and hesitated. “It’s early. Jace probably pulled an all-nighter gaming. Check the diner on the back street behind the school.” I bowed quickly. “Thank you.” The boy stepped back, waving his hand. “Uh, yeah, no problem.” I followed his directions to the back street. It was a long strip lined with shops. I watched the students passing by, wanting to turn and run with every step. Coming here based on a magical notebook was insane. Impulsive. I wondered if I was losing my mind. But then I remembered Chloe dragging me by my hair into the boys’ bathroom. The shame. The fear. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart. I was already here… even if the hope was tiny, I had to try. I found the diner on the corner. A few students were eating inside. In the corner sat a boy with bleached blond hair. He looked like trouble. I pinched the hem of my shirt and walked up to the group of students. “Excuse me… do you know Jace Miller?” They looked confused. Then, the blond boy in the corner looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. “What do you want?” Chapter 3 I froze. This guy… he was wearing a t-shirt, had a tattoo on his neck, and a scar across the bridge of his nose. Even with the scar, which most would call a disfigurement, he was unfairly good-looking. The scar just made him look dangerous. But good looks aside… he didn’t look like a Lincoln High student. Jace leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, expression mocking. He looked exactly like what my teachers called a “delinquent.” I instinctively wanted to leave, but I remembered the notebook. Would he really help me? “Cat got your tongue?” Jace took a bite of noodles, then glanced at me. “If you got nothing to say, get lost. You’re interrupting my breakfast.” I gritted my teeth, walked over, and sat opposite him. Under his scrutinizing gaze, I stammered. “I… I’m being bullied. Someone told me you could help…” “Tch.” Jace laughed before I could finish. “You got the wrong guy. Help you? Who the hell told you to find me?” “Everyone at Lincoln knows I’m the one who does the bullying.” “Go back and cut ties with whoever sent you. They’re pranking you.” I bit my lip, remembering the notebook’s instruction. “He said… if I told you one thing, you’d help me.” “What thing?” “He said to tell you: No more cake.” Jace froze mid-bite. He looked up, his eyes suddenly cold and sharp. I shrank back in fear. Just as I thought he might hit me, he stood up and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Let’s go.” I blinked. “Where?” “You wanted help, right? I’ll go kill them for you. How’s that?” Jace looked back at me. My scalp went numb. I waved my hands frantically. “I… I just wanted protection… not to kill them…” “Oh.” Jace nodded. He raised his right arm, and I noticed a delicate, feminine watch on his wrist. “How do you want me to protect you? Bodyguard style?” He turned back, silhouetted against the light. He grinned. It was a nice smile. I opened my mouth but couldn’t make a sound. Chapter 4 Jace walked me to the gate of Eastside High. Just seeing the school made my heart clench like a fist. I couldn’t breathe. “Wait for me. Half a day,” Jace said, running a hand through his hair. He turned and walked away. I gritted my teeth and walked into school, head down. The security guard eyed me. “Exams are coming up. Stop hanging around with those thugs.” I didn’t reply. In the hallway, every student who brushed past me made my skin crawl. I was terrified of contact. When I walked into the classroom, the noise died instantly. Chloe turned around and laughed. “Oh, look who it is. Zoe! I thought you were too scared to show up today!” Her laugh made my body lock up. Fear flooded my veins. “Why are you standing in the doorway? Get in!” The homeroom teacher shoved me from behind. I stumbled into the room. “Exams are almost here! Stop wasting time!” she yelled at the class. I sat in the back row. Chloe turned around immediately. She gave me a cold, dead stare. I saw her mouth the words clearly. “Wait till after school.” … I rubbed the cover of my textbook, watching the clock tick. Every second that passed, my heart sank deeper. The nightmare… was coming back. I pulled the notebook from my bag and looked at the conversation. I thought of Jace. Would he come back? The bell rang. School was out. The teacher dropped a perfunctory “Study hard” and left. Chloe stood up and looked at me. Jace didn’t come. I thought desperately. No one was going to protect me.

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Taking the SATs is a right every student has, but for three years, I was barred from the testing center. The first year, I was dressed properly, passed security, and had my ticket. But just as I was about to step into the room, the proctor glanced at my admission ticket and immediately blocked me. I thought there was something wrong with the ticket. The second year, after repeating a grade, I printed my ticket directly from the official website, following every guideline. But again, the proctor looked at it and kicked me out. By the third year, I had changed my name and moved to a different city. When I saw that the proctor was my former elementary school teacher, I thought I was finally safe. Seconds before, she was smiling and encouraging me. But the moment she saw my ticket, her face fell. She ruthlessly blocked me from entering and told me with absolute certainty that no matter how many times I tried, I would never be allowed to take the test. I couldn’t understand. What was wrong with my ticket? Why did I pass security and facial recognition, only to be stopped by every single proctor who saw my admission slip? 1 “According to regulations, you cannot enter the testing room!” Hearing this, my first thought was that Mrs. Chen didn’t know I had changed my name. I immediately pulled out my legal documents and ID. “Mrs. Chen, you must be misunderstanding! I changed my name last year. I’m not an imposter!” She didn’t even look at the papers. She dragged me away from the door. “Jane, I know you changed your name. But rules are rules. I absolutely cannot let you take this test. It wouldn’t be fair to the others!” As the doors began to close, threatening to waste three years of blood, sweat, and tears, I grabbed Mrs. Chen’s arm, begging. “Mrs. Chen, please! This is my third time trying!” “If you won’t let me in, at least tell me why!” She looked at me with disgust. “A student like you has no right to take the SATs. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. I guarantee no proctor will ever let you in!” Looking at my admission ticket lying on the floor, I broke down crying. Why? I passed every security check. Why did every proctor turn me away? The first year, I wore my uniform and brought the school-issued ticket. The proctor took one look and blocked me. Terrified of missing the test, I screamed until the site director came. But after checking my ticket, she didn’t help me. She had security drag me out. I failed by default. I thought the ticket format was wrong. The second year, I printed it myself according to national standards. I thought it would work. But I was rejected again. Taking the SATs is a right. I checked every regulation. My residency and ID were fine. I had no criminal record. Why was my right being stripped away? I refused to accept this unfair treatment. I started to suspect someone was targeting me. So I changed my name, changed my residency, and registered for a third time. Seeing Mrs. Chen gave me hope. She was the teacher who first taught me to love learning. I believed in her justice and kindness. I believed she would let me in. Instead, she dealt the final blow. As the bell rang, I grabbed her clothes and fell to my knees. “Mrs. Chen! I beg you! Let me in!” 2 My parents, who hadn’t left yet, saw this and rushed over. Seeing me sobbing, they knelt before Mrs. Chen, their hearts breaking. “Mrs. Chen, please have mercy on our child!” “This is her third time trying. If she just failed the test, we’d accept it.” “But she’s studied hard for twelve years for this chance. Why won’t you even let her try?” Mrs. Chen turned her head away, ignoring them. My dad grabbed her leg and pulled a passbook from his pocket. “For this test, her mom and I sold our land.” “The money is all here. If you let my daughter in, it’s all yours. If it’s not enough, I’ll borrow more, I’ll take loans, please!” Seeing my parents so humble, tears filled my eyes. Mrs. Chen looked pained, but she didn’t budge. “Don’t do this. I understand how you feel, but I cannot violate national regulations.” My mom thought Mrs. Chen was worried about something else. She pulled me down to kowtow three times. “Mrs. Chen, you taught Jane. You know her!” “She was always a model student. She never broke the law. Even when she was bullied, she never fought back.” The site director saw the commotion and hurried over. My dad tried to plead my case. “Director, my daughter Jane passed security and arrived an hour early. But the proctor won’t let her in!” Mrs. Chen didn’t explain. She just handed my admission ticket to the director. The man looked at it, and his face instantly changed. “Parents, take your child home! We cannot allow a student like her to take the test!” “Don’t bother coming back for the next sessions. It’s useless!” The director’s words sent me to hell. I looked at the disgust and hatred in his eyes, filled with confusion and grievance. I didn’t know him. Why did he hate me? It was as if I had committed an unforgivable crime. Looking back on my 21 years, I was as insignificant as a speck of dust. Because we were poor, I always kept my head down, afraid to offend anyone. My parents were farmers their whole lives. If not for my education, they would never have left that remote mountain village. Since I was little, they told me education was the only way to change my fate, to change our family’s fate. So I worked hard. Even though I wasn’t always number one, my grades were good. Even my homeroom teacher said getting into a top university wouldn’t be hard for me. But two years of repeating grades had drained my parents’ savings. This time, they gave up everything to bet on me. I knew this was my last chance. I stopped begging the proctor and charged at the door. But before I could touch it, two security guards pinned me down. They threw me out of the testing center. I hugged my parents, crying uncontrollably. “Mom, Dad, what do I do? What do I do?” My mom wiped my tears and comforted me. “It’s okay. We’ll try again tomorrow.” “No matter what, we’ll get you into that test! Or we’ll call the police. Okay?” 3 To be safe, my parents went with me to print another ticket. The next day, my high school teacher, Mrs. Zhang, brought my former classmates to cheer me on. They held a banner: “Go Jane! You got this!” I felt a pang of sadness. If I had taken the test the first year, I would be in college with them now. Mrs. Zhang patted my shoulder. “Jane, don’t worry. It’ll work this time!” I nodded, but I was still scared. I handed her all my documents. “Mrs. Zhang, can you check my ticket and ID? Is there anything wrong?” The photo was new. The ID wasn’t expired. Even though I had checked a hundred times, Mrs. Zhang checked again patiently. Confirming everything was perfect, I walked to the door, trembling as I handed over my documents. The proctor this time was an older man. He seemed surprised to see so many people cheering for one student. He looked curious. “You’re Jane?” I nodded seriously, heart pounding. “Yes. Is there a problem, sir?” “No!” He smiled and handed back my ID, his eyes kind. “With so much support, you must do well!” I nodded gratefully. “I will!” But just as I reached for my admission ticket, his brow furrowed. “Jane, you cannot take today’s exam!” Like he was looking at a plague, he had security throw me out. Remembering yesterday’s words, tears burst from my eyes. I collapsed on the ground, my desperate wails drawing everyone’s attention. My classmates tried to fight for me. My parents swore to get justice. They rushed to the reporters, screaming about corruption. “Reporter, there’s a black market in the SATs! The proctors and the education board are bought! They’ve stopped my daughter for three years!” “Please help my daughter! She repeated two years and never got to step inside!” The reporter smelled a scoop and went to interview the proctor. “Sir, are the parents’ claims true? Why are you stopping a model student?” “Is there really a conspiracy?” A crowd gathered, sympathizing with me. They demanded an explanation. But the proctor maintained his cold, legalistic face. “Rules are rules. Student Jane does not meet the requirements for the exam!” “It doesn’t matter who comes today! I will not let her in! I suggest she give up!” His words ignited the crowd’s anger. “Unfair! The SATs are a right!” My parents charged forward. My teacher and classmates charged too. I saw them scuffling with security. I saw my parents kicked to the ground. How did it come to this? I wanted to help. I wanted to stop them. In the chaos, someone kicked me, and I fell. Blood and tears blurred my vision. I couldn’t stand up, but my eyes landed on the admission ticket nearby. I reached out and grabbed it. This ticket destroyed my life. Destroyed everything here. I wanted to see what curse was on it! I flipped it over to the photo side. Seeing that youthful smiling face, I laughed through my tears. In that moment, I finally understood why I was rejected three times! 4 The proctors and security held the line. Until the police arrived and took us all to the station. Afraid Mrs. Zhang and the students would be implicated, my parents took the blame. “Officer, it’s our fault. Mrs. Zhang and the kids are innocent.” “They have bright futures. If the board wants to press charges, arrest us!” “My daughter didn’t hit anyone! Check the cameras!” Even the usually quiet students spoke up for me. “Jane didn’t hit anyone! I saw it!” “Me too!” Hearing them defend me, my eyes reddened again. The officer looked at me with a complicated expression. “Jane, we’ve investigated the situation.” “There is no conspiracy. The proctor was right. You do not meet the requirements for this exam.” “Your previous rejections were for the same reason.” “As for the reason…” He looked at my parents, hesitating. Mrs. Zhang interjected. “Regardless of the reason, we shouldn’t have caused a disturbance. That was our fault.” The officer didn’t press the issue. He went with the flow. “Don’t worry. No one was hurt, and it didn’t escalate too far. The proctors and the board have decided not to press charges.” “Especially you students. Your hearts were in the right place, but you were too reckless!” “Some of you are Ivy League students, right? Future pillars of the nation. Go back to school!” “Yes! Thank you, officer!” The students sighed in relief. So did I. My parents comforted me. “Jane, I know college is your dream.” “It’s okay to fail this time. Next year we’ll move to another city and try again. Whatever you want to do, we support you!” Looking at their gray hair, my guilt peaked. If not for me, they would have escaped poverty long ago. “Mom, Dad, Mrs. Zhang, everyone!” I bowed deeply to them. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” “If it wasn’t for me…” Before I could finish, my mind went chaotic. Darkness swarmed my vision. Just as I fell… I felt countless hands reaching out, holding me up with all their strength. But I still fell into unconsciousness. I was taken to the hospital. In my haze, I heard many voices.

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I’m a fertility specialist, though my clients whisper a different title for me in the dark corners of high society: The Resurrectionist. By day, I handle standard IVF cases at a private clinic. By night, I use a lost, archaic technique to harvest viable genetic material—sperm—from men who have just died. It’s a bizarre, exhausting, and highly illegal trade, so I only work for the ultra-wealthy. My starting price is three million dollars. Today, I had just finished sipping champagne at a client’s grandson’s christening when a rush order came in. If I take this job, he will be my seventeenth “husband.” 1 I hadn’t even finished my crab cake when Mrs. Vanderbilt dragged me into the coatroom. “Raven, you have to help. The sky is falling over at the Sterling estate!” “Sterling?” I asked, pulling my sequined headband off. “Julian Sterling. The second son of the billionaire Arthur Sterling. He died this morning. It’s a tragedy—he was supposed to get married next month.” Mrs. Vanderbilt looked frantic. “The body is barely cold. They need an heir, Raven. If they don’t get a child, the Sterling legacy ends.” “If you agree, they’ll pay twenty million. The jet is already on its way.” An out-of-state job? I instinctively wanted to refuse. But then I remembered who the Sterlings were. Old money. Real estate tycoons. I held up five fingers. “Fifty million?” Mrs. Vanderbilt blinked, then made a quick call. She hung up and sighed in relief. “They agreed. But they want to talk to you.” I took the phone. A raspy, grief-stricken male voice spoke on the other end. It was Arthur Sterling himself. “Keep the room warm,” I instructed, skipping the pleasantries. “Body temperature matters. And get me there fast.” The fresher the corpse, the better the harvest. And I hated touching cold bodies. I hung up, burned a piece of paper with Julian’s name on it—my standard ritual to sever ties with the previous client—and headed for the airstrip. Three hours later, I landed at the Sterling estate in the Hudson Valley. It looked less like a house and more like a fortress built of stone and money. Before I could even take in the architecture, a young man in a wheelchair rolled toward me, weeping into a silk handkerchief. “The men of the Sterling family are cursed,” he sobbed. He was dressed in a white suit, his eyes swollen. Despite the mess, he was strikingly handsome. “I’ve been paralyzed since childhood, unable to have children,” he explained. “Who knew Julian would go first? The Sterling line is broken…” This was Adrian Sterling, the older twin brother of the deceased. According to him, Julian, 28, had gone fishing early that morning to catch a prize bass for his brother. He slipped, hit his head, and drowned in the family’s private lake. “We need an heir, Ms. Darkwood. If you succeed, there will be a bonus on top of the fifty million.” “A bonus?” My ears perked up. “How much?” “Ten million more.” Perfect. My grandfather’s dilapidated sanctuary needed a new roof. I kept my face professional. “Mr. Sterling, for a client who cares so deeply about his family, I can offer a premium package. For an additional twenty million, I can guarantee a male heir. Twins, even.” Adrian paused. “Is that… possible?” “With my methods? Anything is possible,” I lied smoothly. Technically, it was a long shot, but I needed the cash. Adrian paid the $35 million deposit without blinking. I was satisfied. I burned a sigil with Julian’s birthdate by the lake where he died, signaling the start of the ritual. “Alright,” I said as the sun went down. “Take me to him.” 2 I was led to Julian’s bedroom. Arthur Sterling, the patriarch, was sitting by the bed, holding his dead son’s hand. He stood up as I entered. “Ms. Darkwood. I assume you understand the need for discretion. I’ll need your phone.” Standard procedure. Rich people hated evidence. “Fine,” I said. “But I have a condition.” “Name it.” “No cameras. No peeping toms. My methods are… proprietary. And ancient. Observing the ritual brings bad luck. Blood luck.” I made it sound spooky, but I just didn’t want anyone seeing my trade secrets. “The room is soundproofed and secluded. There are no cameras,” Arthur assured me. He lied. After they left, I swept the room with my detector. I found a lens hidden in the eye of a priceless collectible figurine on the shelf. Sneaky old fox. I placed a bottle of lotion in front of the figurine, blocking the view. Then, I lit thick, heavy incense and turned on my electronic jammer. The room filled with smoke. Now, I could work. I turned to the bed. Julian Sterling lay there, silent and still. Even pale and slightly bloated from the water, he was devastatingly handsome. I’d seen plenty of corpses, but Julian was a work of art. Broad chest, defined muscles—he clearly lived at the gym. As I began to undress him for the procedure, I couldn’t help but admire the goods. “Well, Your Highness,” I whispered to the body, keeping up the charade in case there were audio bugs. “Tonight, you belong to me. Let’s make some magic happen.” His skin was surprisingly warm. The Sterlings had done a good job preserving the temperature. I took out my kit of silver needles. “Great hair,” I muttered, inserting a needle into a pressure point on his scalp. “Better than the British royals, that’s for sure.” I worked my way down, inserting needles to unlock the post-mortem flow. “And look at these abs. Eight pack. A shame to waste them.” I reached the critical zone. “Impressive equipment, Your Highness. Your future wife would have been a happy woman.” I inserted seven needles to lock the lower meridians and began the specialized massage technique. Thirty minutes later, I prepped the extraction syringe. Nothing. I frowned. I massaged for another fifteen minutes. Tried again. Still nothing. Sweat beaded on my forehead. This had never happened before. I had a 100% success rate with sixteen corpses. I climbed onto the bed, straddling him to get better leverage, using both hands to adjust the needles and massage simultaneously. Suddenly, I froze. I felt something. A pulse. 3 I scrambled off the bed and grabbed my stethoscope. No heartbeat. So, he was dead. I let out a breath. But if he was dead, my technique should work. It only worked on the dead. Unless… I placed my hand on his chest again. The warmth, the elasticity of the skin… it wasn’t right for a body that had been dead for fourteen hours. I glanced at the heart monitor they had disconnected. The family doctor had declared him dead. Wait. I quickly pulled the silver needles from his body. I mixed a special compound of ash and herbs and smeared it on his back. Minutes later, a pattern of red markings appeared on his skin. The Lazarus Trance. It was my grandfather’s secret technique. A state of suspended animation so deep it mimicked death perfectly. Only three people alive knew it: my grandfather, me, and the “Chosen Successor” my grandfather always rambled about. Julian was the Successor? I grabbed my needles and pierced the release points to break the trance. Half an hour passed. He should be awake. But he wasn’t. The storm outside intensified. The room temperature dropped. Julian’s body started to cool rapidly. “Hey! Don’t you dare die on me!” I panicked. If he actually died while I was messing with him, I’d be the prime suspect. I cranked the heat, but he kept getting colder. Desperate, I climbed into bed and wrapped my body around his, trying to share my warmth. “Wake up, Julian! My grandfather is waiting for you!” I slapped his chest rhythmically, chanting the wake-up mantra. After what felt like hours, I heard a faint, raspy whisper near my ear. “Why… did you stop calling me ‘Your Highness’?” I froze. I looked down. Julian’s eyes were open, dark and amused. “You’re alive!” I scrambled back, trying to cover myself with the sheet. “I’ll call the family. They’ll be thrilled. This bonus is going to be huge—” He grabbed the hem of my red ceremonial robe. His grip was weak but firm. “Don’t,” he rasped. “They… they’re the ones who killed me.” I stopped dead. “What?” He pulled me closer, his voice barely a breath. “My brother… he thinks I caused his paralysis years ago. He pushed me into the lake. He wants me dead so he can marry Vanessa… my fiancée.” “Wait,” I whispered. “You couldn’t fight off a guy in a wheelchair?” “I didn’t want to fight him. He’s my brother. I would have given him anything. Even my life…” He coughed. “But I didn’t expect my father to be in on it.” I swallowed hard. “Your father?” “My father married into money. He killed my mother to seize the family fortune years ago. I found the evidence. I told him to turn himself in. He pretended to agree, then told Adrian to get rid of me.” “How do you know all this?” “Dead men hear everything,” Julian smirked bitterly. “They confessed everything to my ‘corpse’ while they were crying over me today.” He looked at me. “You know the technique. You’re from the Sanctuary?” We established our connection. He was indeed the Successor. 4 “Okay,” I said, fixing his pillow. “Since you’re family, I’ll get you out.” “How?” Julian looked hopeless. “They took your phone. The estate is a fortress. Sensors everywhere. A bird can’t fly in without them knowing.” “I have a jammer.” “There’s a camera right outside the window.” I grabbed my jammer, cranked it to max, and peeked through the curtain. The camera’s red light blinked erratically and died. “See?” WOOP-WOOP-WOOP! A siren wailed through the estate. Floodlights blinded me. Heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway. I scrambled back, dialing down the jammer. The footsteps stopped at the door. Okay, brute force escape was out. “Can we pretend your corpse needs to be moved? Like, for feng shui reasons?” I asked. “They want to bury me ASAP to hide the murder wounds,” Julian whispered. “They won’t let the body leave their sight.” I tapped my chin. “What about your fiancée? Vanessa. Is she trustworthy?” “Vanessa?” Julian’s eyes softened. “Yes. We grew up together. She loves me.” “Okay. You stay dead. I’ll handle the rest.” I handed him a specimen cup. “What’s this?” “I need a sample. To show them I’m doing my job.” He turned red. “Now?” “Yes, now. Chop chop.” The next morning, I walked out with my toolkit. Adrian was waiting in his wheelchair right outside the door. He hadn’t slept. “Well?” “Success,” I said, tapping the container. “Twins are a definite possibility.” Adrian’s eyes lit up.

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When I was ten, my parents died, leaving me and my little sister alone. We suffered in the foster system until the Sterlings adopted us. They treated us like their own. They doted on us. When I turned twenty, they even arranged for me to be engaged to their biological daughter, Chloe. Chloe was everything I could have asked for. She loved me fiercely, willing to give me the moon and stars. For ten years, my sister and I lived in luxury, sheltered from the world’s cruelty. On the night before our wedding, Chloe brought out a bottle of rare vintage wine to celebrate. I used that wine to poison the entire Sterling family. Including my own sister. … 1 At the dining table, everyone bled from their eyes, noses, and mouths. They died staring at me, eyes wide open. I sat calmly as the police, led by a frantic Chloe, swarmed the room. Chloe screamed, her eyes bloodshot, rushing forward to slap me over and over. “Why?! Why did you do this?!” I was knocked to the ground, enduring her kicks and punches without a word. Even under police interrogation, I said nothing. I was held for three months. Detectives, lawyers, and prosecutors took turns trying to break me. Some begged, some threatened. I remained silent. The investigation stalled. Chloe, out of patience, pulled strings to see me. “City General Hospital has a new experimental drug,” she hissed, slamming her hand on the table. “It extracts memories directly from brain waves. The process is excruciating. Once the extraction is complete, you will be brain dead.” “Lucas, tell me why. Why did you kill my family? Even your own sister!” I looked at Chloe. The love in her eyes was gone, replaced by bone-deep hatred. My heart ached, but my face remained blank. “Leave. I won’t talk.” Chloe smashed the phone against the glass partition. “Lucas, you brought this on yourself!” The guards looked at me with disgust. “Never seen anyone so evil.” Chloe got authorization. A dozen officers escorted me to the hospital. I was treated like a high-risk terrorist. As I walked out of the station with a hood over my head, a mob of reporters and “concerned citizens”—people the Sterlings had helped—surrounded us. Someone ripped off my hood. The sun blinded me for a second before a dozen eggs smashed against my face. “Murderer! Let everyone see your true face!” Flashbulbs popped like gunfire. “Why did you bite the hand that fed you?” “Did you want the inheritance for yourself?” “Was there another woman? Did you plot this with a mistress?” The questions were sharp, piercing my eardrums. I ignored them, staring blankly ahead. Enraged by my silence, the crowd started throwing phones, bags, umbrellas—anything they could grab. Something hard hit my head. Blood trickled down my face. I curled in pain. The chief of police, afraid of a riot, ordered the officers to push the crowd back. “Citizens, rest assured. We will give you answers for this heinous crime.” I was hooded again and dragged to the hospital. Strapped to a medical chair, I watched the doctor prepare the injection. Just as the needle touched my skin, Chloe grabbed his wrist. Her eyes were red, dark circles heavy beneath them. She stared at me. “Lucas, one last chance. Confess now, and you don’t have to…” I closed my eyes before she could finish. Chloe’s pupils shrank. She nodded to the doctor. The cold liquid entered my veins. Instantly, fire raced through my nerves. I convulsed in agony, straining against the straps. Chloe ignored my suffering. She waited until the screen behind me flickered to life. “Why did you kill my parents? Why did you kill your sister?” My memories were being livestreamed to the public to quell their rage. I closed my eyes, tears finally falling. Chapter 2 The screen showed a memory from when I was ten. My parents died in a car crash. My sister and I were left alone. Without parents, we became burdens. Relatives who used to visit avoided us like the plague. They carved up my parents’ estate and left us with nothing. To feed my sister, I scavenged for food in trash cans. We were starving. My sister got sick from malnutrition. Desperate, I carried her to the orphanage steps and knelt, begging them to take us. But life inside was harder. We were bullied. I fought older kids for a single cracker for my sister. One day, a bully was beating me. Just as I thought I was going to die, the Sterlings intervened. Mrs. Sterling placed a warm hand on my head. “Do you want to come home with us?” She was the only light in my dark world. “But I have a sister…” I huddled against the wall, holding my frail sister tight. If they didn’t want her, I wouldn’t go. But they didn’t reject her. They wept for us. We became Sterlings. Mrs. Sterling tended our wounds, cooked our favorite meals, and read us bedtime stories. Little Chloe protected me at school. “Anyone who messes with Lucas messes with me!” We were a family. The days of starvation felt like a bad dream. The internet exploded. “This guy is trash! The Sterlings saved him, and he killed them?” “He deserves the death penalty!” Chloe couldn’t take it. She strangled me, hot tears falling on my face. “Lucas! Why?! What did my family ever do to you?!” I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, a pale, slender hand touched Chloe’s arm. “Chloe, why waste your breath on him?” “He’s going to die anyway. I’ll be here for you, always.” It was Dr. Ethan Cole. The doctor in charge. And Chloe’s first love—the one she never got over. He was the one who told her about this procedure. Chloe didn’t push him away. She looked at him tenderly. “Why are you doing this personally?” Ethan held up a syringe. “To give him the second dose.” The needle pierced my skin again. Pain wracked my body. The second memory began. I was twenty. My engagement to Chloe was announced. That night, Mrs. Sterling handed me a stack of documents. Stocks, trust funds—all in my name. “This is your dowry, Lucas,” she said warmly. “Chloe will handle the rest.” She made Chloe promise to treat me well. “If you ever hurt him, you’re not my daughter.” Chloe swore she would love me forever. Later, she commissioned a bespoke suit for me from Italy, pinning a diamond brooch on the lapel herself. I was lost in happiness. But two days later, Mr. Sterling had a stroke. Mrs. Sterling collapsed from shock. My sister was stuck at boarding school. Chloe was detained by the IRS for tax evasion investigations. The Sterling empire was crumbling. Business partners vanished. I took the stocks and funds Mrs. Sterling gave me and ran to a lawyer in the middle of the night. “Can we liquidate these? Fast?” Chapter 3 The memory cut off there. Ethan slapped me hard across the face. “You ungrateful wolf! They treated you like a son, and the moment they were in trouble, you tried to cash out and run?” “What were you going to do with that money? Run away with a mistress like the rumors say?” Ethan’s words were calculated to destroy my reputation. The comments on the livestream turned vile. “This guy belongs in the history books of traitors!” Chloe looked even more broken. “Is it true? Did you kill my family just to run away with some woman?” “When I was stuck at the IRS office, I begged them to call you. I thought you were hiding because you were scared. I didn’t blame you.” “But you were actually trying to steal our money?” “If Ethan hadn’t come back from overseas to operate on my dad, if I hadn’t found the evidence to clear my name… would you have just disappeared?” Ethan held her shoulders. “Chloe, I did it all willingly.” So, you always thought Ethan was the hero. I smiled bitterly as my brain waves were siphoned away. The memory shifted. I took all the liquidated money to the best neurosurgeon in the city. I begged him to save Mr. Sterling. But I underestimated the evil in this world. The Chief of Neurosurgery, Dr. Kane, was a monster. He locked the office door and took off his jacket, eyeing me like prey. “You want me to save him? Sleep with me.” I stared at him in horror. “You’re a doctor!” “This is a private hospital. Money is king. And you don’t have enough.” I shoved the bank card at him. “I have money! Take it!” Kane laughed. “The Sterling family is finished. This is pocket change.” He tapped his pen against my chest. “Someone paid me a lot more to buy you.” “Who?!” He didn’t answer. He jabbed a needle into my neck. I woke up in a basement. A dozen men stood around, staring at me. I screamed, begging. “I’m getting married! Please let me go!” My struggles only excited them. Kane ripped my shirt open. “Getting married? Even better.” I was in hell. Hours later, broken and bleeding, I grabbed Kane’s sleeve with my last ounce of strength. “You… got what you wanted… save my dad…” “Lucas…” Chloe stared at the screen, her hatred replaced by confusion and horror. “Why… why didn’t you ever tell me?” I closed my eyes, tears streaming. How could I say it? Kane had warned me: “Even the mighty Sterlings can fall with a snap of someone’s fingers. Don’t try to get revenge.” I was terrified of bringing more danger to the family. I hid my injuries, recovered alone, and returned to the Sterlings in silence. The livestream audience wavered. “He suffered that to save her dad… but he still killed them.” “One good deed doesn’t erase a massacre.” Chloe looked torn. “Lucas, just tell me the truth. You don’t have to die like this.” Ethan’s eyes flashed with malice. “Chloe, he murdered your family! Don’t let him fool you!” He jammed the third needle into my arm. The dosage was triple. I screamed. The monitor buzzed, static clearing to reveal a shocking scene. Chapter 4 In the memory, I returned home after healing. I scrubbed my skin raw in the shower every day. Mrs. Sterling noticed. I broke down and told her everything. Instead of disgust, she held me and wept. She insisted on moving the wedding up to restore my dignity. Chloe, though annoyed by my disappearance, still loved me. She agreed. The suit arrived. My sister cried tears of joy. Mr. and Mrs. Sterling beamed. Chloe kissed my hand. “Lucas, let the past go. We’ll be happy.” I nodded, moved. The night before the wedding, Chloe went to the wine cellar. “This bottle was bought the year I was born. Mom saved it for my wedding.” The family sat around the table, smiling at us. “I forgot the decanter,” I said, my face flushed. “Chloe, can you go get it?” Once she was gone, I pulled out a hidden vial of pesticide. I poured it into the open bottle. I poured glasses for Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, and my sister. I watched them drink it. Seconds later, they were bleeding from every orifice, convulsing on the floor. I didn’t stop there. I slit the maid’s throat. I bludgeoned the driver to death. Then I sat at the head of the table, calmly wiping the blood from my hands. Chloe returned after half an hour. She screamed when she saw the bodies. “Who did this?!” Only I was alive. She grabbed a knife, screaming, trying to kill me. Police burst in and tackled her. I was arrested. I confessed to nothing. I acted like I had slaughtered chickens, not my family. The chat went wild. “He’s a monster!” “Psycho! He snapped and killed everyone because of his trauma!” “Who knows who he’d kill next? Execute him!” Suddenly, a forensic pathologist burst into the room holding a report. “Chief! There’s a problem with the autopsy report!” “What problem?” Chloe snatched the paper. She couldn’t understand the medical jargon. She looked at me. “Lucas! What are you hiding?!” Pain blinded me. I looked at Chloe with longing. A goodbye. The memory shifted again.

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My husband, Alex, got into a car accident and lost his memory. He reverted to his nineteen-year-old self—his wildest, most rebellious phase. When I went to see him, he treated me like a complete stranger, his eyes cold and distant. “Wife? Are you kidding me? There’s no way I got married!” Seeing how resistant he was, I had no choice but to leave. But ever since that first meeting, he’s been popping up in front of me 800 times a day, claiming it’s just a “coincidence.” A month later, he was bragging to his friends about getting my number. They broke down on the spot: “Bro, you spent a whole month just to get your own wife’s number?” 1 Alex was in a car accident. I booked the earliest flight back. When I arrived at the hospital, he had just fallen asleep. The doctor said Alex was fine, just a mild concussion. But the impact caused temporary amnesia. As for how long “temporary” meant—maybe a month, maybe a year, maybe longer. His memory was stuck at nineteen. His wildest, most untamable age. His friends warned me that Alex didn’t remember marrying me and it might take time for him to accept it. I was prepared. Even when he first found out he was going to marry me years ago, his attitude wasn’t exactly warm. Not as resistant as now, but definitely cold. Asking a nineteen-year-old Alex to accept a wife was a tall order. I took a deep breath. “I’ll come back tomorrow. Call me when he wakes up.” “Okay, sister-in-law.” The next day, before I heard from his friends, the hospital called. “Mrs. Sterling, can you contact your husband? We’ve searched the entire hospital and can’t find him. He’s not on the security cameras.” “It looks like he climbed out the window.” My breath hitched. It was hard to imagine the nineteen-year-old Alex doing something so reckless. In the years we’ve been married, he’s always been calm and composed. I’d heard stories about how wild he used to be, but climbing out of a hospital window? After leaving work, I called his friend, Ben. It turned out Alex went straight from the hospital to a club to find them. When I arrived at the private room, Ben and the others were being pressured by Alex to drink. “Alex, I really can’t drink anymore.” “Me too, man. I quit drinking years ago.” “Alex, stop drinking. Sister-in-law is going to kill us.” “Yeah, it’s been a day. She must be worried.” Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Sister-in-law? You guys trying to skip out on drinks again?” Ben looked like he wanted to cry. “Alex, you really don’t remember you have a wife?” “Stop messing with me. I wouldn’t get married even if I was dead. Giving up my freedom? No way. Besides, guys who let their wives control them are spineless!” Alex still thought Ben was just the prankster friend taking advantage of his amnesia. He definitely didn’t believe he was married. The sound of me pushing open the door was drowned out by the loud music. Ben saw me first. A chill went down his spine. “Alex, stop talking.” I walked into the room and picked up a bottle from the table. Except for Alex, everyone sat up straight. Alex leaned back on the sofa, looking up annoyed. “Do the waitresses here just barge in without knocking?” His voice cut off the moment he saw me. After locking eyes with me, Alex started frantically adjusting his tie and shirt. He buttoned the top two buttons, then reconsidered and unbuttoned them. He pulled his collar down a bit, revealing a hint of his chest. Nineteen-year-old Alex… quite the show-off. Ben and the others couldn’t bear to watch Alex dig his own grave any longer. They were about to warn him, but I silenced them with a look. As I left, I heard everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of relief. “Alex, why is your face so red?” Alex looked incredulous. “Me? Blushing? Impossible!” Luke, who was always a bit dense, immediately opened his front camera. “It is red! Wait, Alex, do you know who she is?” “Cough.” Ben interrupted him sharply. They were more afraid of offending me than Alex. “Someone must have spiked the drinks. Check it out.” Alex picked up his glass, then slammed it down. “Done drinking. Going home.” 2 The “home” Alex referred to wasn’t the house we lived in now. He went back to the old Sterling estate. Since his keys didn’t work, he climbed over the fence. He almost got caught as a burglar. Luckily, the security guards had good eyesight. He was unharmed, but he woke up his elderly parents. “You brat, what are you doing here in the middle of the night? Digging up ancestors’ graves?” “Honey, you forgot. Our son is supposed to be in the hospital. He had an accident and lost his memory. He probably doesn’t remember his own house.” “Oh right. Now that you mention it… You brat, forgetting even Alice? You’ve got some nerve.” Alex’s dad grabbed a feather duster and aimed for his legs. Maybe twenty-nine-year-old Alex wouldn’t dodge. But nineteen-year-old Alex knew exactly how to evade his father’s wrath. He sprinted upstairs to his room and slammed the door. “What Alice? You guys arranging another engagement? When I was nineteen you tried to sell me off to some rich lady, remember? Can’t believe you’re still doing this when I’m twenty-nine.” His dad shouted from the stairwell, “Ungrateful brat! I wish you wouldn’t waste Alice’s time!” Alex sneered from behind the door. “Fine by me.” That night. My best friend, Sarah, came over to keep me company and vent on my behalf. “Why don’t you just confront him? I bet he’s faking it!” “Let’s go to the estate right now, bag him, and beat him up!” I couldn’t say I wasn’t angry. My husband stays out all night, claims he’s definitely single, and acts like marrying me is a fate worse than death. “But seriously, what if he never remembers? Are you two just going to be stuck like this?” “If he really doesn’t remember, then we bag him and lock him in the house.” 3 Work was slow the next day, so I agreed to go with Sarah to check out her new bakery and give some advice. Just as I arrived, my mother-in-law called. “Alice, I have to tell you something.” “This morning, I saw Alex dressed like a peacock. He even put on hair gel and cologne before leaving. I’m afraid he’s—” The door chimed. Alex walked into the bakery. It was opening day, so the shop was crowded, but I spotted him immediately. Mainly because his outfit was screaming for attention. Cargo pants with too many pockets, an oversized black T-shirt, and a silver chain necklace. So trendy it hurt. I spoke into the phone, “It’s okay, Mom. I know.” He might have amnesia, but I still remember everything. I walked past Alex with a tray of samples, deliberately offering them to the customers around him. Just as Alex, who was closest to me, finally reached out for a toothpick, Sarah swiped the last piece. “Mmm, delicious. Crunch crunch. My baking is top tier.” She looked at Alex, feigning surprise. “Oh! I didn’t know you wanted to try too. I took the last one. Tell you what, we have new products you can buy to try at home.” Alex’s mouth twitched. Sarah continued, “Wait, you didn’t just come here to mooch free samples, right?” And just like that, Alex bought a $3,000 membership card and five pineapple buns, leaving with a dark face. Sarah waved his first receipt of the day. “Thanks, bestie. Consider this my grand opening red packet.” 4 Alex sat in the private room at the club, staring at five pineapple buns. “Isn’t this Sarah’s new bakery?” Ben took a bite of a bun before Alex pulled him onto the sofa for interrogation. “How does my outfit look today?” Ben answered honestly, “Very nineteen-year-old you.” Alex frowned. “Am I old now?” Luke looked envious. “No way. You’ve maintained your prime better than any of us. You’re legitimately handsome, bro.” “I’m twenty-nine now. That’s basically thirty. Men aren’t worth much at thirty… Wait, she doesn’t know how old I am, right?” Ben dropped his bun. “She? Alex, are you talking about a woman?” Alex hummed noncommittally. “Yeah. She’s playing hard to get.” “Holy shit. Tell sister-in-law Alex fell in love at first sight with someone else.” “I know, I know. I’m texting her now.” “What does she look like, Alex? Don’t do anything stupid!” “You guys saw her yesterday. I didn’t fall in love at first sight! I’m never getting married! But I’ve never seen anyone look like that. Face the size of my palm… so gentle…” Max, who was typing the text to me, froze. He looked up at Alex in disbelief, then frantically deleted everything. “The one from yesterday? That’s…” False alarm. Ben and Luke exchanged glances. They asked Alex, “Do you know her name?” Alex shook his head. “You guys know?” Ben and Luke made eye contact for a long time before pushing the hapless Luke forward. Luke grinned until his face hurt. “Yeah, her name is Alice Vance. We know the owner of the bakery, Sarah. Alice is her best friend.” Alex let out a soft “Ah.” “So that’s it.” “These buns are pretty good. I’ll bring you guys some more over the next few days.” Alex left, humming a tune. The remaining friends looked at each other. “You think when Alex gets his memory back, he’ll throw us all into the river?” “It’s fine. Sister-in-law told us not to say anything. With her protection, Alex won’t do anything to us.” “True.”

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I was reborn the day before the SATs. On this very day, Liam Carter confessed his love to the girl I hated most. They would embark on a passionate, whirlwind romance that lasted a decade. Then they would break up. And then, through a mutual acquaintance, he would meet me, and we would get married. 1 I woke up the day before the SATs. It was a drowsy afternoon. Mr. Harrison, our homeroom teacher, was droning on about test procedures. My deskmate, Sarah, kept nudging me with her elbow. “Big news!” she whispered conspiratorially. “Bella Davis from AP English lost her admission ticket.” “Her whole class is looking everywhere for it.” I shot up from my seat, ignoring Mr. Harrison’s angry shout, and sprinted downstairs. In my past life, this happened too. Bella Davis lost her ticket, and Liam Carter found it in a trash can. Bella was so moved by his heroism that when Liam confessed his feelings right after, she said yes. To go to the same college as Liam, Bella—the valedictorian—deliberately skipped the last essay question on her exam. They had a legendary ten-year romance. But in the end, I was the one who married Liam. 2 I ran to the dumpsters behind the school building. Ignoring the stench, I started digging through the trash. “Ugh…” After gagging several times, I finally found Bella’s ticket crumpled inside a ball of scratch paper. I slammed the ticket onto Bella’s desk. She looked up, eyes red like a rabbit’s. “Lucy… thank you.” I scoffed. “Don’t think just because you aced the mocks you’ll ace the real thing. I’m going to beat you this time.” What I really thought was: If you want to thank me, don’t date Liam. Unfortunately, Bella couldn’t read minds. She wiped her tears and buried her head in her books. “I won’t let you down.” Me: “…” Back in class, Sarah poked me again. “Lucy, are you possessed?” I shook my head. “No.” Sarah frowned. “But you hate Bella. You always say she’s fake.” How could I explain? I just didn’t want my future husband confessing his love to his first love. 3 Bella Davis was my arch-nemesis growing up. She was my neighbor, the “perfect child” all parents adored. Pretty, smart, always first in class. Even though I called her “Ice Queen” behind her back, the adults praised her as diligent and graceful. I really hated her. Especially since she was always number one, and I was always number two. My entire academic life was spent in her shadow. And now, my future husband was about to confess to her. This was unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable. So I made a decision. Total. Lockdown. I would not give them a single second alone. 4 The next day was the SATs. Cicadas buzzed in the summer heat. I crouched by Bella’s front door, bored, waiting to walk with her. But her mom told me Bella had already left. I checked my watch. It was only 7:00 AM. In my hazy memories of my past life, Bella encountered some trouble on the morning of the test. Sure enough, I hadn’t walked far when I heard Bella’s trembling voice from a nearby alley. “What… what do you want?” “I’ll give you my money. Just let me go.” A greasy-looking punk laughed. “We don’t want money. We heard you’re the school beauty. We just want to have some fun.” “Come on, smile for us.” Bella bit her lip, eyes full of terror. In a romance novel, this is where the hero would burst in, save the damsel, and sparks would fly. But I wasn’t the hero. I was the villainess determined to ruin the romance. I had woken up thirty minutes early for this. So— “Hey!” I put my hands on my hips and held up my phone. “I called the cops. They’re on their way.” At the mention of police, the punks scattered like rats. I pulled Bella up from the ground. “Let’s go.” “If we’re late, you won’t have time to finish the essay.” 5 The exams ended faster than I expected. It felt like our youth was frozen in that moment. The decorated exam halls, the spotless blackboards, the couples whispering in corners. These became our most precious memories. No one knew what the future held. But the freedom and wildness of that final day was where our lives intersected for the last time. That night, the entire senior class went into party mode. Everyone gathered to drink. People got drunk, started babbling nonsense, dancing on tables. And some people… Namely, me. Like a shadowy rat, I stared fixedly at Bella and Liam. Absolutely. No. Chance. For. Them. To. Be. Alone. “Lucy!” Sarah waved at me frantically. “Come drink!” Her voice was so loud. Instantly, everyone looked at me. People from the other class started whispering. “Isn’t she from AP Bio? What’s she doing here?” “I don’t know, did someone invite her?” Me: “…” Traitor. Absolute traitor. By the time I shook off Sarah… In a quiet corner, a row of heart-shaped candles was being lit. My future husband, Liam, was bent over, back to me, lighting them. I let out a screech like a marmot. “Security! Someone’s playing with fire!”

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