Leo came to me right before the fall semester started, looking for the money he’d earned lifeguarding over the summer. I threw my hands up. “I don’t have it.” When Mom and Dad found out, they pointed fingers in my face, screaming that I had no shame. Then, I pulled out the bank statements and showed them the truth. Their jaws hit the floor. 1. Because Leo didn’t have his own checking account set up for direct deposit, his wages from two months of lifeguarding had been wired to my account. It was a temporary fix, or so I thought. A week before classes started, he cornered me, demanding the card so he could withdraw cash to buy an iPad for school. I was in the middle of a deep-focus work sprint, buried in spreadsheets, so I just handed him the debit card without looking up. By the time my brain caught up with what I’d done, Leo was already gone. It wasn’t until later that the study door flew open with a violent bang. “Maya, where is the money?” Leo stood there, eyes bloodshot, shaking a fistful of withdrawal receipts at me. “Two months of work, and there’s only a hundred bucks left?” I blinked, pulling my headphones down. “I forgot to tell you. The account is basically empty.” “Just a hundred bucks?” His voice cracked. “Yeah.” “Are you treating me like an idiot? How could two months of wages just disappear?” His gaze, sharp with misplaced rage, locked onto the sleek, silver laptop sitting on my desk. “You used my money to buy that, didn’t you?” Before I could process the accusation, he lunged. He hooked his fingers under the edge of my laptop and yanked it forward with a feral grunt. “Don’t—” The plea died in my throat. CRACK. The sound was sickening. The machine hit the hardwood floor corner-first, the screen shattering into a spiderweb of dead pixels before going black. “My files. My laptop.” The final deck. The quarterly strategy pitch I was due to present in forty-eight hours. It was all in there. I didn’t walk; I scrambled across the floor, falling to my knees beside the wreckage. “Leo, have you lost your damn mind?” I screamed, looking up at him. He hadn’t just broken a machine; he had smashed half a month of my life. My sleep, my sanity, my ticket to a promotion—gone. “That was my presentation! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? I never touched a cent of your money!” “You didn’t touch it? Then where did it go? Did it fly away?” he roared back, vibrating with adrenaline. “You think I’m stupid? You have the card. If it wasn’t you, who was it?” “What is going on up here? The neighbors can hear you from the street!” My parents jammed themselves into the doorway simultaneously. My mother took one look at the scene—me on the floor, Leo panting—and her brow furrowed. “Maya,” she sighed, the exhaustion in her voice performative. “How did you provoke your brother this time? You’re an adult. Can’t you just be the bigger person?” The injustice of it felt like a physical blow to the chest. “I provoked him?” I pointed a shaking finger at the aluminum corpse of my laptop. “He came in here like a psycho and smashed my work computer! My project files are gone, Mom. Gone!” My father looked at the broken laptop. He knew how much these things cost. For a second, the room held a heavy, stunned silence. Then, the silence was broken by a sound so pathetic it had to be rehearsed. “Mom… Dad…” Leo’s tears were instantaneous. Big, alligator tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m just… I’m so stupid. I worked so hard all summer, sweating in that chair for two months, and Maya took it all to buy herself a fancy new computer. That’s why she wouldn’t let me see the account. I just wanted an iPad for school…” I stared at him, paralyzed by the sheer fluidity of his lie. He was rewriting reality in real-time. My parents, whose hearts were already heavily weighted in his favor, softened immediately. Slowly, I bent down, picking up the scattered papers, trying to salvage what I could. “You’re going to pay me back,” Leo sniffled, his voice gaining strength. “With interest. Twenty grand. Principal and interest.” He shoved past my father and stormed out of the room. 2. “Interest? Twenty grand?” I screamed at the empty doorway, my voice trembling so hard it hurt. “Your little lifeguarding gig paid three grand, tops! I’m telling you, I didn’t touch it! Not a penny!” “Watch your mouth!” My father’s low growl came from behind me. “You ungrateful brat. Spending your brother’s hard-earned money and then denying it? Have you no shame?” My mother’s voice was sharper, cutting through the air like glass. “We raised a wolf in sheep’s clothing. All that education, wasted on a thief. You owe him that money, Maya.” “I didn’t do it.” Nobody was listening. That night, the phone didn’t stop ringing. It was a tribunal by telecommunication. I kept picking up, masochistically hoping for someone to be on my side. First, it was Uncle Bob. “Maya, honestly. Being the older sister means looking out for him, not skimming off the top. Is this what college taught you?” I tried to speak, but he hung up. Then Aunt Karen: “Oh honey, aren’t you embarrassed? A grown woman stealing from a teenager? Pay him back before the whole family finds out.” Every call was an indictment. Then, the screen lit up again. Grandma. No hello. No warmth. “Listen to me, girl,” her voice crackled, old and brittle. “You give my grandson his money back. Every cent, plus whatever interest he wants. He earned that. If you short him even a penny…” She paused, letting the threat hang in the static. “…then you are no granddaughter of mine. Don’t bother coming to Thanksgiving. Don’t bother coming back at all.” “Grandma…” I whispered. Click. From the doorway, a soft, rhythmic crunching sound made me look up. Leo was leaning against the doorframe, casually eating an apple. He looked relaxed, victorious. “Heh,” he smirked, taking another bite. “Karma.” At dinner, the air was thick enough to choke on. “Some people really have thick skin,” Leo muttered to the ceiling. Mom slammed a plate of green beans onto the table. “You have the nerve to sit here and eat? After spending your brother’s blood and sweat money?” “I didn’t spend it!” The anger flared up, hot and white. “I’ve said it a thousand times. The account was empty. Fine. I’ll print the statements. From the day the card was issued until now. We’ll see exactly where it went.” I yanked my phone out of my pocket. The motion was too violent; it dislodged something else. Clatter. My car key hit the linoleum and slid under the table. “Car key?” Leo was faster than me. He scooped it up and dangled it in front of Dad’s face. “Dad, Maya bought a car? Since when did she have a new car?” Absolute silence. Then, the realization dawned on my parents’ faces—a false epiphany that fit their narrative perfectly. “That explains it,” Dad said, his voice dangerously quiet. “I was wondering how a few thousand dollars just vanished into thin air.” He slammed his hand on the table, making the silverware jump. “You used it to plug the hole for your down payment. You’ve got some nerve.” Mom clutched her chest. “Oh, my god. You took his sweat equity to buy yourself four wheels? Maya! is your heart made of stone?” “I didn’t!” I roared, the pressure in my head nearing an explosion. “I saved for that Civic for two years! Leo’s lifeguarding money wouldn’t even buy the tires!” Leo’s smirk vanished. He turned to Dad, whining like a wounded animal. “Dad, look at her. She thinks she’s better than us. She used my money and now she’s lying about it.” SMASH. My father snatched the key from Leo’s hand and hurled it at the floor with all his strength. The plastic casing cracked open. 3. I scrambled to pick up the pieces, my hands shaking. “Are you happy now? A replacement fob costs three hundred dollars.” The absurdity of it, the sheer humiliation, made me nauseous. My father loomed over me. “Three hundred is too much? But your brother’s summer of waking up at dawn, the money he slaved for—that means nothing to you?” “Wait,” Mom cut in, her eyes narrowing. “I remember. When she was looking at cars, she said she was short a few thousand. She asked us for a loan, and we said no.” She pointed a finger at me, triumphant. “That was when she did it. She couldn’t afford it, so she raided the account.” It was a logic built on sand, but to them, it was concrete. “That’s not what happened,” I said, my voice sounding thin to my own ears. “I got a subsidy from the company. A commuter bonus. It was approved last month. I didn’t touch his money.” “Subsidy?” Dad sneered. “Keep lying. If you can’t produce the cash, you spent it.” He pointed at the broken key in my hand. “Stop with the excuses. This car… your brother owns a piece of it now. Since you used his money, he has a share. Actually, the car is his.” I stared at him, horrified. I looked at Leo, whose face had shifted from fake victimhood to genuine, greedy delight. “Are you insane? On what grounds?” “On the grounds that thieves don’t get to drive,” Mom spat. Leo didn’t hesitate. He snatched the broken key from my hand. He held it up, a cruel grin stretching across his face. “Thanks, Sis. Thanks for the new ride.” I watched the key swinging in his hand, gritting my teeth so hard my jaw ached. There was nothing I could do. Not right now. I had to wait. That evening, to celebrate Leo “getting his first car,” my parents insisted on taking the whole family out to dinner. I ate nothing. The food tasted like ash. All I could think about was the key in Leo’s pocket. On the way out of the restaurant, Mom suddenly gripped my arm like a vice. “Wait.” I looked up. We were standing in front of an electronics store. The window display was full of tablets. Alarm bells rang in my head. Mom dragged me toward the entrance. “Let’s go in. Pick out an iPad for your brother. He’s a college student; he needs it.” I yanked my arm away. “Mom, I said no. He already stole my car. Why on earth would I buy him an iPad? Do you think I’m an ATM?” “Why?” Mom’s voice rose to a shriek. “Because you selfishly embezzled his summer wages!” Leo’s eyes lit up. He ran into the store, pointing at the newest, most expensive Pro model. “Mom! I want this one. The big screen.” Shoppers and employees turned to look. “I’m not buying it,” I said, turning to leave. “You will buy it!” Mom stepped in front of me, blocking the exit. “You aren’t leaving until you do.” “Yeah, I deserve it!” Leo, emboldened by Mom, grabbed the box of the expensive tablet and hugged it to his chest. “I want this one. If she doesn’t buy it, I’m sleeping here tonight!” The commotion was attracting a crowd. Whispers started circulating. Mom saw the audience and immediately switched into performance mode. She slumped against a display table, sliding toward the floor. “Oh, what did I do to deserve this?” she wailed. “I raised a heartless daughter! She stole her own brother’s hard-earned money and now she won’t even replace it with a tablet for his studies! God, open your eyes! Why is my life so bitter?” Every eye in the store locked onto me. “What kind of person does that?” “Stealing from a kid? That’s low.” “Look at the poor mother.” I saw phones come out. Young customers were recording, cameras pointed squarely at my face. “Put this on TikTok,” someone muttered. “Expose her.” “Karen in training,” another sneered. A store employee, looking awkward and tired, approached me. “Ma’am, please. Either pay for the item or take this outside. You’re disrupting business.” I looked at Leo, clutching the iPad with a smug, challenging look. I looked at Mom, fake-sobbing on the polished concrete. The explanations died in my throat. Instead, a cold, hard rage clarified my mind. “Fine,” I said, my voice cutting through the noise. “I’ll show you the evidence. Let’s see whose heart is black.” I whipped out my phone. My fingers moved across the screen in a blur. Bank App. Login. FaceID. History. Filter: Custom Date Range. June to August. The list loaded instantly. Crisp, undeniable black text on a white background. “Look,” I said, holding the phone up. “Open your eyes and look.” Dad, who had just parked the car and walked in, pushed through the crowd. “Look closely. From the day his first paycheck hit.” Dad snatched the phone. Mom scrambled up from the floor to look. Their eyes scanned the screen. And then, they froze.

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The day after my high school graduation, my parents dropped a bomb: they were getting a divorce. Before I could even process the shock, my dad looked at me, his face drained of all color, and asked: “Maya, after we divorce, who do you choose to live with?” I was shaking with rage. I screamed, “I don’t choose anyone!” They looked at each other, their expressions turning ghastly pale. In the next second, they sprinted toward the open window and jumped. I watched them fall. I heard the sickening sound of them hitting the pavement below. My parents committed suicide right in front of me. I thought the nightmare was over, but the horror was just beginning. On the day of the funeral, my Grandma and Grandpa pulled me aside. With twisted, strange expressions, they asked: “Maya, we’re getting a divorce too. Who do you choose to live with?” 1 The day of the funeral was gloomy, the rain coming down in sheets. I stood by the gravesite, watching my parents’ caskets being lowered into the ground. My brain was absolute mush. Grandpa walked over and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Maya, your Grandma and I are getting a divorce.” I froze. “You… you guys are splitting up?” My voice trembled. Grandma shuffled out from behind him. Her face was gray, but her cloudy eyes burned with a strange, frantic intensity. “Who do you choose to live with?” It felt like someone had shoved a rock down my throat. I couldn’t speak. They were saying the exact same words my parents said before they died. “W-why?” My head was spinning. “You guys have been together for fifty years. You love each other. Why divorce?” Before my parents dropped the bomb, they were the perfect couple. They never fought. They doted on me. My grandparents were the same—inseparable. I didn’t understand. Why did everything change the moment I graduated? Why did everyone want a divorce? Grandma and Grandpa didn’t answer. They just stared at me, waiting for the verdict. A chill crawled up my spine. The image of my parents’ desperate, final glance before they jumped flashed in my mind. “No… No! I won’t choose…” I stumbled backward, shaking my head. “Don’t ask me! I’m not choosing!” Their expressions instantly sank. The fire in their eyes extinguished, replaced by a hollow darkness. Without answering my question, they turned around and walked straight toward the busy road outside the cemetery. “Grandpa! Grandma!!” I screamed, terror ripping through my throat. Thud! A semi-truck couldn’t brake in time. It slammed into them with a bone-chilling crunch. Blood mixed with the rainwater on the asphalt, spreading into a crimson river. I threw myself onto the wet ground, kneeling in the puddle of water and blood, my limbs ice cold. Echoing in my ears was their final question: “Maya, we’re getting a divorce. Who do you choose to live with?” 2 The police arrived quickly. I sat on the curb, my mind a total blank. “You’re saying they just… ran into traffic?” Detective Miller frowned, scrutinizing me. I tore at my hair, shaking my head violently. My thoughts were a chaotic mess driving me toward insanity. “I don’t know… They suddenly told me they were divorcing and asked who I wanted to live with. I said I wouldn’t choose, and then they just…” Miller’s brow furrowed. “Why?” I opened my mouth, but the words stuck. “I don’t know…” I finally choked out. “I really don’t know why they killed themselves…” Tears streamed down my face. In three days, I had lost four family members. Miller checked the nearby surveillance cameras. It confirmed my story. On the footage, my grandparents clearly walked into the path of the truck on purpose. Miller looked even more disturbed. He glanced at me with a strange expression. Just then, my phone rang. It was my Uncle Ben. He told me to come to his house immediately. He said it was urgent. Detective Miller patted my shoulder and offered to drive me. On the way, Miller asked more about my family. When I told him about my parents jumping off the building, his face darkened. “Your parents asked you who you’d live with before they jumped, too?” I nodded numbly, consumed by grief. Miller muttered, “This is too weird. Why ask that specific question before dying? Why would perfectly sane people commit suicide en masse?” His sharp eyes locked onto me, searching for any crack in my story. “I really don’t know!” I was on the verge of a breakdown. “I want to know why too!” We pulled into Uncle Ben’s driveway. Uncle Ben and Aunt Sarah were sitting on the couch, stiff as statues. When they saw me, it was like a spell broke. They pulled me down to sit between them. But the moment I sat, Aunt Sarah said something that made my blood run cold. “Maya, your uncle and I… we can’t go on like this.” “You guys are divorcing too?” I felt like all the energy had been drained from my body. My voice was barely a whisper. I locked eyes with Detective Miller. He looked just as shocked as I was. We both realized it. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. Uncle Ben and Aunt Sarah looked rigid, their faces pale as sheets. “Yeah…” Uncle Ben’s voice sounded like he was being strangled. Aunt Sarah suddenly grabbed my wrist. Her grip was iron-tight. I tried to pull away, but she held on, staring dead into my eyes. Her voice shook, forcing my heart to hammer against my ribs. “Who do you choose to live with?” “I…” I couldn’t breathe. They didn’t give me a second to think. Their urgency ramped up. “Choose, Maya! Who do you pick?!” I struggled, biting my lip until it bled, keeping my mouth shut tight. I was terrified. I knew if I spoke, they would die. Their faces turned beet red. Sweat beaded on their foreheads. Veins popped in their necks. It looked like someone was holding a gun to their backs, forcing them to do this. “No… don’t force me…” I shook my head, feeling like my brain was going to explode. Seeing I wouldn’t answer, their breathing turned ragged. They gasped for air, their eyes filling with despair and madness. They started shaking violently. “Choose! The time is almost up!” Uncle Ben shook me roughly, his hands bruising my arms. “No! No! I don’t choose anyone! Uncle Ben, Aunt Sarah, what is happening to you? Why do I have to choose? What is going on?!” I screamed, terror and confusion suffocating me. Suddenly, their faces went slack. Total misery. “Time’s up,” Uncle Ben whispered, his eyes void of hope. What time? Before I could ask, they both pulled knives from their jackets. I scrambled backward in horror. Detective Miller lunged forward to stop them. But it was too late. Slash. Warm blood sprayed across my face. My uncle and aunt collapsed to the left and right of me, like puppets with their strings cut. Dead. 3 I sat there, frozen. My brain went blank, like a fuse had blown. Detective Miller looked horrified. Uncle Ben and Aunt Sarah died with their eyes wide open, tears still streaming down their faces, as if they had so much more to say. I looked at the blood on the floor and finally vomited. Parents. Grandparents. Aunt and Uncle. Six people. Gone. And every single one asked me to make a choice before they died. Who was next? Was there anyone left? I couldn’t think… Tears poured out, and my body shook uncontrollably. It felt like an invisible hand was manipulating everything. Later, sitting in the ER hallway, my hands were ice cold. The bodies had been taken away. The blood wasn’t fully cleaned up. The air smelled of iron. Detective Miller stood nearby, face grim. He lit a cigarette, his hands trembling. After a long silence, he said, “This isn’t normal.” My Nana (maternal grandmother) rushed in. I threw myself into her arms and wailed. Nana’s eyes were red. She grabbed my hand and said she was taking me home. I wanted to ask her so many things, but my throat was swollen shut. She didn’t speak the whole ride. Her face was grayer than the overcast sky. “Nana,” I whispered, “do you know something?” Her eyes flickered, avoiding mine. “Don’t think about it. Be a good girl. Let’s go home and sleep.” “But why did they die?” I pressed. “Why did they all want a divorce? Why did they ask me who to live with?” “Enough!” she snapped, her voice trembling. I flinched. The car went silent, save for the rhythmic swish-swish of the wipers. Maybe she realized she scared me, because her expression softened into her usual warmth. She smoothed my hair. “Maya, just rest. We can talk tomorrow, okay?” She wouldn’t talk, so I stopped asking. But my mind was racing. Did they really die because I refused to choose? Back at Nana’s house, I showered and lay in bed. A nameless dread wrapped around me. What did Nana know? I wanted to run out and demand answers, but then I heard whispering from the living room. It was Nana. Her voice was hushed, but through the thin walls, I caught fragments. “…Yeah, can’t delay anymore… time is almost up…” “…I know. I’ll take her over there tomorrow…” The words were broken, but terrifying. Time is almost up? That’s what Uncle Ben said before he died. I held my breath, trying to hear more, but the voices cut off abruptly. The silence was heavy. I instinctively scooted back against the headboard. Suddenly, the door creaked open. Nana walked in. Her eyes—usually so kind—were now staring at me with a dark, predatory intensity. “Why aren’t you asleep?” Her tone was cold. Not like my Nana at all. I stammered, “I… I was just about to…” Her face instantly shifted back to a gentle smile. She walked over and patted my head. “Sleep. Tomorrow, it all ends.” My throat tightened. “Tomorrow? What’s happening tomorrow?” She went silent again. “Nana,” I tested the waters, “can you tell me what’s going on? Why did everyone die?” A flash of coldness passed through her eyes before she handed me a glass of warm milk. “Drink this first. You’ll understand tomorrow.” She pushed the glass toward me. I had zero appetite, but seeing her desperate stare, I forced it down. Satisfied, she left. I lay there, tossing and turning. It was all so bizarre. Why did she keep saying the time was almost up? Around 1:00 AM, my phone buzzed. A text message. Who would text me at this hour? I unlocked the screen. It was Detective Miller. I tapped the message, and my scalp went numb. “Maya, RUN! That is not your Nana! Get out of there!” Creaaaak. My bedroom door handle turned. Nana was coming back. 4 A long shadow stretched across the floor. I squeezed my eyes shut, feigning sleep. She entered, her footsteps barely audible. She paced around the room, then stopped right by my bed. I felt her shallow, ragged breath on my face as she leaned over me. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I thought she’d hear it. I was sweating bullets. Finally, she turned and softly closed the door. I opened my eyes and grabbed my phone. I needed to ask Miller what he meant. Not my Nana? But the chat window was empty. The message was gone. Even Detective Miller’s contact info—gone. Deleted. I froze, then realized: Nana. She must have deleted it while I was “sleeping.” My palms were sweating. I crept out of bed and tiptoed to the door. I cracked it open an inch. Nana was standing right there! She was facing the door, just staring at it. I almost screamed. “Where are you going this late?” she asked, her voice low and gloomy. I fought the urge to collapse. “I… I’m thirsty. Getting water.” She didn’t speak. Her eyes followed me. I walked past her, my throat burning. She followed me to the kitchen and watched me drink. I gulped the water down, shaking. “Done,” I said, forcing a smile. “Going back to bed.” She didn’t smile. Just nodded. “Sleep early. Stop thinking so much.” I ran back to my room, heart pounding. I didn’t dare go out again. She was guarding the door. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and I passed out. When I woke up the next morning, I checked my phone. Still no message from Miller. “Where are we going today?” I asked Nana as she packed a bag. “The funeral home… for Uncle Ben and Aunt Sarah?” She paused, then slowly looked up. Her voice was dangerously soft. “Who said we’re going to the funeral home?” My stomach dropped. “Then… where?” She smiled—a gentle, grandmotherly smile—but it made my skin crawl. “You want the truth, right? I promised I’d tell you. Come with me, and you’ll understand.” I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm as I got into her car. But ten minutes into the drive, I realized something. This was the route to the hospital. I gripped the seatbelt. “Nana… why are we going to the hospital?” She didn’t look at me. “I planned to take you anyway. You’re sick…” My heart rate spiked. I was sure now. She wasn’t my Nana. My real Nana told me everything. She never hid things. And why take me to the hospital when I’m physically fine? “Who are you?” I scooted toward the door. “Detective Miller said… you aren’t my Nana.” The air in the car turned instantly frigid. She chuckled, the wrinkles around her eyes twitching. “Silly child. What are you talking about?” Her tone became overly sweet. “Maya, don’t be scared. Nana is here. We’ll face this together.” I was terrified. “I… I need to pee…” I pulled the door handle. Locked. Child lock was on.

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After I secured a $40 million contract for his company, my CEO husband, Jason, was thrilled. He grabbed my hand, beaming, and said he wanted to buy me a watch. Then he pulled out a Sharpie and drew a cartoon watch on my wrist. “Babe,” he said with a straight face, “the company took a hit this year. I’ll get you a real one next year.” Ten minutes later, I saw a post on his secretary’s Instagram. Jason had just won an auction for a limited-edition watch worth $15 million. He had “lit the sky lantern”—an old auction term for paying whatever it takes—just for her. His caption: “True love means giving her the only one in the world.” It wasn’t that the company had no money. It was just that I wasn’t worth it. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I just quietly liked the post. His secretary’s comments section exploded. A minute later, Jason called me in a panic. “Babe, don’t misunderstand! I bought it to motivate the staff! Just delete your like and help me clarify things, okay? If you do, I promise we’ll go on that honeymoon this year.” But the pie he was painting was too big, and I wasn’t hungry anymore. “Don’t bother,” I said. “Let’s get a divorce.” 1 “I’m serious, it was just an employee incentive! You own half the company, I did it for us!” Jason’s voice was sharp with annoyance. “If you don’t appreciate it, fine, but don’t joke about divorce.” “Marriage isn’t a game, Eva. I’m warning you, this is the last time.” “Also, I gave you a chance. If you refuse to clarify things online, don’t blame me if I don’t save face for you.” He hung up angrily. I looked at the “Divorce Filing” sign ahead of me and sighed. He didn’t know. I was tired. This time, I wasn’t joking. The line was long. I held my number ticket and scrolled through my phone. The comments under his secretary, Bella’s, post were piling up like a skyscraper. Most of them were from my team, defending me. “Stealing someone’s husband? Great upbringing. Teach me how to climb the ladder like that?” “Agreed. Working overtime is useless compared to having a sweet mouth. Zero skills but promoted every month. Shame I learned too late.” The sarcasm was thick. No wonder Jason called to threaten me. His precious Bella was getting roasted. But my team was telling the truth. Bella was beautiful, but useless. Jason hired her over candidates from Ivy League schools, even though she had a degree from a community college. When rumors started flying, I asked him about it. He looked at me with disappointment. “Babe, I thought you understood me. Are you elitist now too?” “Remember our mission? Equal opportunity. We give young people a chance.” I believed him. I felt guilty. I immediately told HR: “Talent over pedigree.” Then HR hired a guy from a state school, and Jason spent the afternoon screaming at them. “Is this company a garbage dump? You hire anyone off the street? If you can’t do your job, get out!” Turns out, “equal opportunity” only applied to Bella. Just then, my team messaged me. “Boss, don’t be sad. We got you.” Watching the funny memes they sent, my chest felt a little lighter. I was about to tell them to stop before they got in trouble. Then a notification popped up in the company Slack. Jason posted a penalty notice. “Anyone caught slacking off or using phones during work hours will have their pay halved and bonuses stripped. Next offense is termination.” I laughed when I saw the list of penalized employees. Everyone who liked or congratulated Bella was fine. The people fined were all my team members. My phone blew up with their complaints. “Jason is pushing it! This isn’t about phones, he’s targeting you, Boss!” “Boss, are you planning to leave? Start your own thing?” “Where you go, we go!” Seeing their loyalty hurt. After seven years of marriage, Jason knew me. I was protective. I valued loyalty. So whenever I displeased him, he punished my team. I had endured it again and again. Not anymore. I made a call. “Eva! You finally decided to join us? Welcome!” The voice on the other end was ecstatic. “I have one condition.” “Name it. Anything.” “I’m bringing my whole team.” “Deal! I’ll draft the contracts now. Everyone gets double… no, triple their current commission!” My team was always the top performer, but because of me, they hit walls constantly. They had become Jason’s leverage against me. From today on, no more. By the time I finished the call, my number was up. I handed over the divorce papers. Seven years ago, when we were most in love, we signed a prenup. Not to protect assets, but to protect our freedom. “If we treat each other badly, either of us can leave at any time.” We thought we’d never use it. “Ma’am, we need to confirm the marriage is irretrievably broken,” the clerk said. I called Jason. He kept declining. Ten minutes passed. The couples behind me were getting restless. Even the clerk looked annoyed. I opened Bella’s Instagram. As expected, Jason was at Bella’s apartment, wearing a ridiculous apron, clumsily cooking for her. I showed the clerk the photos of the luxury gifts he bought her. The clerk looked at me with pity. She didn’t ask any more questions. “Come back tomorrow for the certificate.” “Thanks.” I walked out, relieved. That’s when Jason finally called back. 2 “Now you’re in a hurry?” “I tried to talk sense into you, but you wouldn’t listen. I’m angry now, so save your breath.” “I have work tonight, so I won’t be home. Reflect on what you did wrong.” Before he hung up, I heard Bella’s voice in the background. “Jason, which dress should I wear for the birthday dinner?” Click. Today wasn’t my birthday. It wasn’t Jason’s. It was Bella’s. “Work?” He was just throwing Bella a birthday bash. Jason had childhood trauma. He never celebrated birthdays. For his sake, I stopped celebrating mine too. But for Bella, he broke his rule. I smiled bitterly. Love really is a cure-all. Too bad in seven years of marriage, I was never his true love, nor his cure. I pushed the thoughts away and met with the new company. After settling the contracts, my team tried to console me. “Boss, listen to us. A man who sides with outsiders isn’t worth it.” I laughed dryly. I remembered when I first met him. He wore a cheap white t-shirt, too shy to speak. Now, he was a smooth-talking liar who hurt me repeatedly. I spoiled him. At first, I loved him so much that no matter what he did, a little coaxing fixed everything. He thought I had no bottom line. Later, he’d just use sweet words. If I didn’t yield, he’d sabotage me. Until today. I gave him chance after chance. I was naive to think he’d change. I shook my head. “Drinks on me tonight! We aren’t going home until we’re wasted!” Cheers erupted. We drank and sang until dawn. I dragged my exhausted body home and opened the door, ready to crash. But there sat Jason—the man who said he wouldn’t be home—waiting on the sofa. He smelled the alcohol on me and recoiled. “I told you I hate women who drink. Why did you drink so much? Do my words mean nothing to you?” I laughed. Because he “hated drinking,” I had been sober for seven years. But just a while ago, Bella sent me a video. She was drunk, acting pitiful. “Sorry Jason, I know you hate girls who drink…” Jason cupped her face. “Silly. Drink if you want. I don’t hate alcohol; I hate cleaning up after drunks. I’m too lazy.” Then he held out his hands to catch her vomit. “But for you, I’m willing.” Thinking of that, I slapped his hand away. “Thought you weren’t coming back?” He threw a blanket at me. “I was worried about you being alone.” “And look at you. Out partying all night, didn’t even call me. I even packed your favorite food.” Before, I worried about his safety. Even if we fought, I’d check in every hour. This time, I hadn’t replied for a whole day. He only came back because he sensed something was wrong. The food on the table was indeed my favorite. I didn’t touch it. A slap and a sweet date. His classic move. I wasn’t falling for it. Jason didn’t notice my mood. He thought I was bought, as usual. His face softened. “Okay, fighting is tiring. Let’s meet halfway.” “You framed Bella and made her suffer. I can overlook that. But you have to give her the ‘Titan Project’ account.” “She’s talented. If you hadn’t suppressed her, she’d be flying high by now.” “If you behave, I’ll revoke the fines on your team right now.” So that was it. He came home early and brought food not for me, but for Bella. He really loved her. Even during our cold war, he put on a show for her sake. I sneered. “Sure.” Jason smirked. He wasn’t surprised. “Next time, think before you act. If you weren’t so petty with your likes and inciting your team to bully her, we wouldn’t be fighting.” “Whatever, it’s in the past. Go do the handover.” I pulled my ID badge from my pocket and tossed it onto the table. “One account isn’t enough. Give her my job too.” 3 Jason froze. “What do you mean?” “She’s so talented, she should be at the top.” “I’m trying to discuss this nicely, why are you throwing a tantrum again?” He looked ugly when he was displeased. I wouldn’t yield, he said I was targeting Bella. I yield, he says I’m unreasonable. He wins either way. Seeing my silence, Jason frowned. “Is this about the watch? Fine, I’ll buy you one.” “God, Eva. You’re a Director. Holding a grudge over a stupid watch? Bella is so much more magnanimous. Learn from her.” He still thought this was about the watch. “No need. Save your money for your precious Bella.” Jason exploded. He threw a pillow at me. “I told you, Bella and I are just colleagues! Why are you as dirty-minded as everyone else?” Everyone called her Ms. Shen. Only he called her “Bella.” It was obvious, yet he still lied. “Believe what you want.” Jason’s face turned purple. He grabbed my wrist. “If that’s what you think, then wipe off the watch I drew! I drew it personally. You don’t deserve it!” He tried to roll up my sleeve. I yanked my arm away and showed him. My wrist was clean. The ink was gone long ago. “Don’t worry. I scrubbed that trash off yesterday.” Jason looked at me, hurt. He raised his hand as if to strike, veins popping, but stopped at the last second. “You win!” He slammed the door and left. The old me wouldn’t let him leave angry. The new me went to bed and slept like a baby. When I woke up, my phone was blowing up again. This time, the demotion and pay cut weren’t for my team. They were for me. “Since someone thinks she doesn’t deserve to be Director, wish granted. Demoted.” No one dared to speak up for me anymore. I didn’t care. I took my entire team to the office to hand in our resignations. HR called Jason in a panic. “Mr. Fu, people are quitting…” On the other end, I heard Bella. “Jason, if you’re busy, go back. I can watch the movie alone.” “No. You were wronged. I promised to make it up to you.” Then he whispered angrily into the phone, “Why are you bothering me with resignations? What do I pay you for?” “But…” “But what? The stamp is in my drawer. Stamp it yourself and stop annoying me!” He hung up and turned off his phone. HR was red-eyed. Helplessly, she processed our resignations. Rumors spread outside that we were fired. Bella’s lackeys gleefully reported back to her. “Talent means nothing if you can’t keep a man.” “First come, first served? In love, the one not loved is the third wheel!” They gossiped about me openly. My team wanted to fight. I stopped them. I smiled and blessed the gossips. “You’re right. I hope your partners find their ‘true loves’ too.” Ignoring their sour faces, I led my team out. We stopped by the courthouse to pick up the divorce certificate. Looking at the booklet, I smiled. “I’m in a good mood. Lunch is on me. Pick anywhere.” My team cheered. They argued between seafood and steak. I scrolled my phone waiting for them to decide. Someone nudged me. “Boss, look over there.” I looked up. 4 Jason and Bella were walking hand-in-hand, shopping. Their companions teased them. “Bella, you finally brought your boyfriend of three years out to meet us!” Jason smiled gentlemanly. “Sorry, work has been crazy.” “Bella says you guys take good care of her. Pick whatever you want, I’m paying.” Three years. Bella hadn’t even graduated then. So they started that early. No wonder he fought to hire her. Someone next to me kicked a chair in anger. The noise caught Jason’s attention. He saw me and immediately let go of Bella’s hand. “What are you doing here?” I scoffed. “Just ‘colleagues,’ huh?” Jason panicked for a second, then remembered our cold war. He raised his voice. “I’m just playing a role to help her out! You’re too dumb to see that and you’re yelling at me?” “And you! It’s work hours. You’re skipping work? Do you even respect me as your boss?” “You and your team—pay docked! All of it!” Bella played hooky every day to hang out with him, and it was fine. But we were strict liability. I laughed. “Forgot to tell you. We all quit.” “Have fun. We’re done.” Jason blinked. Then he raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Playing hard to get again?” “I’m busy. I don’t have time for your games!” Busy indeed. Busy dating Bella, busy treating her friends, busy punishing me. Bella tugged his sleeve, adding fuel to the fire. “Jason, she clearly doesn’t respect you as her husband.” “Quitting is one thing, but taking the core team? She’s trying to kill the company.” Her friends chimed in. “Yeah, Bella is better. Young, pretty, obedient. She wouldn’t stab you in the back.” “We heard Eva is just a lazy housewife. Bella does all her work. You should have fired her ages ago.” “Drop the dead weight, handsome. Bella is your match.” Hearing them slander me, Jason—who knew the truth—didn’t defend me. He sighed. “Eva, for the sake of our years together, one last chance.” “Apologize, give the account to Bella, and you can keep your job. Or else…” Or else, divorce. He didn’t say it, but I knew the look. Practice makes perfect. Before, that look terrified me. I’d beg. But now… I tossed the divorce certificate onto the table in front of him. “No thanks. We’re already divorced.”

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I wore a new hairpin to school. The school’s notorious bad boy, Dylan, stood in front of me, rubbing his nose. “That hairpin looks good on you.” Trembling, I took it off and clipped it onto his head. “If you like it… it’s yours.” 1 The hallway went dead silent. Then someone snorted, and the laughter exploded. Dylan ripped the hairpin off his head, frowning. “Who said you could put this on me?” I blinked. This guy was weird. He said it looked good, but when I gave it to him, he got all fierce. Seeing the confusion in my eyes, he looked away, his tone softening a bit. “Lost a game of Truth or Dare.” Oh. I understood. I held out my hand. “Then… can I have it back?” Under my hopeful gaze, he brutally rejected me. He shoved the hairpin into his pocket. I swallowed my anger. Fine. Can’t afford to offend him, so I’ll just avoid him. Goodbye, new hairpin that I owned for exactly three hours and twenty-one minutes. During the break, I went out for fresh air and bumped into my friend, Jess. She looked me up and down, noticing something missing. “Where’s the new hairpin you wore today?” I confessed. “I gave it to Dylan.” Jess’s voice went up two octaves. “You gave it to who???” I repeated myself honestly, adding an explanation. “He said it looked good on me, so I gave it to him.” Jess froze. She frowned, looking at me like I was a hopeless case. “Is there a possibility… that he was saying you looked good?” “Does he have a crush on you?” I shook my head. “He’s not blind.” I sit in the corner of the classroom every day. I’m a mouse who avoids all attention. Why would he notice me? 2 Compared to Dylan, my life was dirt, and his was the sky. My home was a chaotic war zone; his was peaceful and perfect. I wanted to use grades to escape. He was at the bottom of the class but still had a glittering future. Some people spend their whole lives trying to get to Rome; some people are born there. I was the former; he was the latter. Rich, handsome, wild but principled. Countless girls threw themselves at him. Me? I hid behind thick bangs and black-rimmed glasses, drowning in a uniform two sizes too big for my skinny frame. In a crowd, I was invisible. There was no way he liked me. He definitely just liked the hairpin. Thinking about that hairpin, I felt a pang of regret. I just bought it. Five bucks. It hurt a little. But once something is in his hands, it’s gone. I sighed and opened my math workbook. Whatever. I’ll solve a few problems to calm down. When I looked up again, I saw Dylan leaning against the doorway. He lifted his chin at me. “Hey, Shorty. Come out here.” I pointed at myself. “Me?” He nodded. “Yeah, you.” Feeling like the mouse I was, I closed my workbook and shuffled out nervously. Under Dylan’s oppressive gaze, I mustered up the courage to compliment him. “That hairpin looked pretty good on you too.” He looked stunned. He pulled the hairpin out of his pocket. “You… said I looked good wearing this thing??” I was confused. “Yeah?” He seemed to choke on his words, his face turning a weird color. He shoved the hairpin into my hand. “This is for girls. Take it back.” I instantly beamed, immersed in the joy of recovering lost property. But when I examined it closely, I frowned. “A rhinestone is missing.” The next second, Dylan’s face darkened. “How much? I’ll pay you.” I answered matter-of-factly. “Five dollars.” He pulled out his phone. “No cash. Venmo?” I obediently took out my phone. It was so old it took forever to open the app. He waited quietly the whole time. I glanced at him cautiously, but saw no impatience or disdain in his expression. Relieved, I added him as a friend. I didn’t see the corner of his mouth turn up as he turned away. And that missing rhinestone? It was sitting safely in his wallet. 3 When I got home that evening, the usual sounds of my mom complaining and my dad arguing back filled the air. Mixed with my little brother’s crying. The noise made it impossible to focus. I thought about sleeping, but it was too chaotic. I remembered the five dollars in my Venmo. So I grabbed my backpack and left the house. My parents, deep in their argument, didn’t even notice. I walked slowly to the McDonald’s nearby, splurged on a Coke, and sat in the corner to do homework. I was so focused that by the time I finished, the ice had melted, diluting the sweetness. I packed up. I couldn’t bear to throw away the half-empty cup, so I carried it home. When I pushed open the door, Mom was sitting in the living room, silent. My heart skipped a beat. Her gaze landed on the cup in my hand. “Vain enough to drink McDonald’s Coke now?” “The dollar soda at the bodega isn’t good enough for you?” “We hesitate to buy a bottle of water when we’re out.” “Where did you get the money?” I whispered my defense. “I lent a hairpin to a classmate. They broke it and paid me back.” “Which classmate?” I stammered, unable to answer. She walked over quickly and slapped me across the face. “Learning to lie now?” I stood in silence until she finished venting and told me to go to my room. Lying in bed, moonlight streaming through the window, I blinked. Tears soaked into the pillowcase. Outside was a vast world; inside was a cramped storage closet. I gritted my teeth. I would leave this place. I would. The next morning, I rarely let my hair down, trying to cover the red mark on my face. But I ran into Dylan wandering around campus. He had sharp eyes. He noticed something was off. Before I could react, he brushed my hair aside. “Who hit you?” I turned my face away, shame and anger rising. “None of your business. Are we close?” He paused, crossing his arms. “Of course it’s my business. Classmates should help each other.” I froze for a second, suppressing the flutter in my heart. “Thanks, but no thanks.” He seemed annoyed, pursing his lips and staring at me for a moment before turning and walking away. I couldn’t accept kindness comfortably. Because I knew I couldn’t repay it. 4 During break, I went to ask the class valedictorian—a boy—about a math problem. While we were discussing it, Dylan seemed to accidentally knock my notebook off the desk. I glanced at him and bent down to pick it up, but my fingers brushed his. He pulled his hand back instantly, the tips of his ears turning a faint pink. “I was afraid bending over would be trouble for you.” Then he walked away. I dusted off the notebook and put it back on the desk. Turning back to the unfinished problem. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dylan’s jacket fluttering in the doorway. Swaying gently in the wind, just like him. After school, I was rushing home on my bike when Dylan suddenly appeared in front of me. I slammed the brakes, stopping just an inch from him. Seeing this, he threw his backpack down and sat on the ground. “June, you hit me.” I stood there silently, unsure how to respond. He stood up again. “Tell you what. Do me a favor, and I won’t pursue it.” I knew he was faking it, but there were no cameras on this road. I couldn’t prove anything. I accepted it. “What favor?” Dylan looked serious. “Come home with me.” I was stunned, hesitating. He flicked my forehead. “What are you thinking? My parents are home.” “Oh.” He grabbed my handlebars. I frowned. “You’re riding my bike. What do I ride?” The next second, my feet left the ground. He lifted me up and placed me on the crossbar. My face instantly heated up. I stammered, trying to protest. “This… is too close…” “If people see, they’ll think we have some relationship…” “Tch.” Dylan scoffed. His tone was nonchalant. “So what?” He stepped on the pedal, and the bike moved forward steadily. The road was full of students rushing home. I lowered my head, trying to minimize my existence. When we got to Dylan’s house, I sighed with relief, thinking no one saw us. Until I opened my phone. Jess sent a message. [Respect (Thumbs up)] Attached was a blatant paparazzi shot. From that angle, it looked like I was leaning into Dylan’s embrace. The smile froze on my face.

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During spring break, my husband, our son, and I went shopping. My son, Tyler, fixated on a game console. When I said no, he started screaming at me right there in the mall. “Monkey! Why won’t you buy it for me? I want it! If you don’t buy it, I’ll hit you!” He lunged at me, punching and kicking. This wasn’t the first time. My husband, Dave, looked at me with pure disgust. “Let’s go. Stop embarrassing us.” I looked at my son coldly. “From now on, I’m not your mom. If you want something, ask your new mom.” I turned and walked away, leaving Tyler screaming in the middle of the mall. I quit. 1 Walking home alone, I realized I wasn’t even sad anymore. Countless hurts had left me numb. For years, I gave up a career I loved to raise a son and a daughter. But all they did was resent me. My son, Tyler, is only in elementary school, but he’s obsessed with video games and junk food. When I say no, he acts like I’m a monster. He has zero respect for me, hits me when he’s mad, and calls me “Monkey” in public. My daughter, Chloe, is just as bad. Since starting middle school, she’s become rebellious, obsessed with dating some blue-haired delinquent. I tried to guide her, but she sees me as the enemy of her true love. This is all thanks to their father—a misogynist who loves playing the “cool dad.” He constantly brags about his achievements while belittling mine in front of the kids. “Daddy works so hard to make money. Mommy has it easy; she doesn’t do anything.” “Housework and kids are women’s work. I’m a man; I do big things.” “I make four grand a month! Do you know how hard that is? I don’t have time for your nagging.” Every time I discipline the kids, he swoops in like a hero, badmouths me with them, and buys them junk food to make them happy. I’m the villain. He’s the saint. No wonder the kids hate me. Was I wrong? Maybe. Wrong for choosing this husband. Wrong for birthing two ungrateful tumors. I opened the door to see Chloe already home, dressed like a wannabe gangster, sitting at the table. She rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’m broke. Give me some cash.” I ignored her and walked to my room. She followed, leaning against the doorframe, shaking her leg. “Hey, I’m talking to you. Give me money. I need to go out!” I was so disappointed in this girl who only cared about hanging out with her blue-haired boyfriend. I hung up my new clothes. “No money. Ask your wonderful father.” Chloe snapped, slapping my clothes away. “What do you mean no money? You have money to buy clothes but not for me?” She reached for my phone, cursing. “Stupid bitch, why is it so hard to get money from you?” I pushed her away, disgusted. “Get out. Go ask your little boyfriend to support you!” “Fine! I knew you were trying to break us up! Tyler was right, you are just a brainless monkey!” Slap. I hit her across the face. “Watch your mouth. Since this is my last day as your mother, let me teach you how to speak like a human!” Slap. I hit her other cheek. I used to be too soft to discipline her. Now, I was completing her education. Just then, the lock clicked. Dave and Tyler were home. Hearing Chloe’s screams, they rushed over. Tyler charged at me, fists flying. “Stupid Monkey! Let go of my sister!” I backhanded him across the face. His cheek swelled instantly. “Listen here, you little brat. Call me ‘Monkey’ again, and I’ll slap you until your mouth rots!” Tyler wasn’t used to this. He screamed like a banshee and tried to hit me again. I grabbed his arm and kicked his butt and thighs. I used to hold back. Now that he wasn’t my son anymore, I hit him as much as I wanted! Dave finally stepped in, shielding the kids. “Jane! Enough! It’s just a nickname, is it necessary?” I laughed. “Dave, it’s about respect! They turned out like this because of you! If you think it’s no big deal, how about I call you ‘Pig’ from now on?” Dave was furious. How could anyone talk to a “big man” like him that way? “Jane, are you done making a scene? Fighting with kids, what kind of mother are you! Earlier at the mall, Tyler just wanted a game console. You should have just bought it. Making a scene in public… I’m embarrassed for Tyler having a mom like you!” “Yeah, so embarrassing! You don’t deserve to be my mom if you don’t buy me stuff!” Tyler chimed in. It was always like this. They ganged up on me until I caved. They spent my savings, but Tyler thought it was Dave’s money. He hated me and loved Dave more. But I wasn’t their mom anymore. I wasn’t compromising. “Tyler, ask your dad. Isn’t he the best? He’ll buy it for you. I told you at the mall, I’m not your mom anymore. Go ask him!” “And Chloe, you want money? Ask your dad. He’ll give it to you. Hurry up, grab the cash and go find Blue Hair.” The kids looked at Dave with expectant eyes. “Dad, you’re different from that old hag, right?” Dave looked awkward. He hated spending money on the kids, but he didn’t want to ruin his “cool dad” image. “Tyler, don’t worry. I’ll buy it for you. But Daddy is a little tight this month. How about… when I get paid next month?” Dave was the king of empty promises. Only an idiot like Tyler would believe him. “See? Stupid woman! Dad will buy it for me. You’re nothing compared to Dad!” Chloe held out her hand. “Dad, I don’t need much. Just five hundred.” Dave acted pained, pulling out two crumpled twenties. “Chloe, Daddy won’t stop you like your mom. But I only have forty on me. Take this for now.” Chloe looked grateful. “Thanks, Dad! You’re the best. Unlike her, hoarding money. Dad, I’m leaving, Blue Hair is waiting!” She ran out. Dave coaxed Tyler back to his room, then stormed back to confront me. “Jane, I work my ass off to support this family! You sit at home enjoying life and can’t even manage two kids? What good are you?” I scoffed. “You support us? You haven’t brought a dime home in years. We’ve been living off my savings! Where do you get the nerve to lecture me?” Dave puffed up his chest. “Being a supportive wife is your duty! Raising kids is your job! Paying for things is what you’re supposed to do!” I truly didn’t understand how his brain was wired. “Duty my ass. Go look in a mirror. I’m saying this for the last time: I quit being a mom. I’m done with those two. I’m not spending another cent. You handle it!” I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. “If you don’t handle it, who will?!” Dave roared. “Their wonderful father, obviously.” 2 Outside, I dialed a number I hadn’t called in years. After a short ring, it connected. “Jane? Finally calling me? You heartless woman, did you forget your best friend?” Hearing Sarah’s voice, I finally felt safe. I started crying. “Hey, hey, why are you crying? I’m not blaming you! Did that dog Dave upset you? I told you he was trash!” I sobbed, “Sarah, I regret everything…” “Okay, okay, stop crying. Come to the dance studio. Same place!” When I arrived, Sarah was waiting. She saw my haggard face and said nothing, just led me to her office. “Jane, you used to be so radiant. That guy… he destroyed you. It hurts just looking at you!” I smiled bitterly and told her everything. Sarah was furious. “How did you put up with that for so long?! Ungrateful wolves! I would have torn them apart! Jane, what do you want to do now?” “I want to start over. I want to make them regret everything.” “That’s my Jane! But the industry changes fast. Even though you were in the National Troupe, you haven’t danced in years. You need to catch up on trends. Can you start as a regular instructor?” I agreed instantly. I was just grateful for the chance. I knew I could be the best. Sarah was happy. “Let’s go shopping! New makeup for your new life! You need to look gorgeous as a dance teacher!” By the time we finished shopping, it was evening. With Sarah, I felt like my old sparkling self again. I stayed at Sarah’s that night. My phone rang non-stop. All Dave. When I finally answered, he started screaming. “Jane, where the hell are you? No dinner, house is a mess! I come home from work to a cold kitchen! Get back here and cook!” I fired back, “Are your hands broken? Or are you paralyzed? Waiting for me to serve you? Cook yourself or starve! Don’t bother me!” “Jane, did you take the wrong meds? Fine, you don’t care about me, what about the kids?!” “Yeah, I took the wrong meds years ago when I decided to serve you like a maid. Are they hungry? Not my problem! I’m not hungry!” I hung up before he could respond. Sarah gave me a thumbs up. “That’s the spirit! No more taking crap!” Until bedtime, Sarah updated me on the dance world and sent me videos to study. She promised to start recruiting students for me tomorrow. For the next few days, I practiced from dawn to dusk. The familiar feeling returned. Sarah said I could start teaching next week. I was thrilled. I told Sarah I was going back that night. “Jane, you’re not going back to be a maid, are you?!” she asked, shocked. I laughed. “No way! I just want to see how those dogs are living.” I went back right before dinner. The house smelled awful. Leftover takeout everywhere, overflowing trash cans, sour stench. Dirty laundry piled high, socks on the sofa. Hearing the door, Tyler and Chloe came out, thinking it was Dave. “Dad, what’s for dinner?” Seeing me, their faces fell. “Stupid woman, you finally came back! Look at this mess! Clean it up and cook! I’m starving!” “Wait until Dad gets home, he’s gonna kill you!” Just like Dave. Disgusting. I pushed Tyler aside, sat at the table, and opened a large container of spicy crayfish I bought for myself. “If you’re starving, cook. If you can’t cook, you aren’t hungry enough.” Chloe sat next to me, reaching for a crayfish. I slapped her hand. “Hey! What are you doing?” “Eating! What does it look like?!” “Stealing my shrimp! Buy your own! Can’t afford it? Then watch! Don’t touch with your dirty paws!” Tyler tried to sweet-talk me. “Mommy, give me a bite? You know I love shrimp.” “Hey, I’m not your mom. Don’t call me that. You don’t deserve these shrimp. You can suck on the shells.” Tyler saw flattery wasn’t working and tried to hit me. “Stupid Monkey! Give it to me or I’ll beat you!” I backhanded him to the floor. “I told you. Call me Monkey, get slapped. Why use your mouth to bark like a dog?” Tyler screamed. “Ahh! You hit me! I’ll kick you to death! Die! Die!” Chloe yelled too. “Crazy bitch! You starve us and eat alone?!” She tried to flip the bowl. I held it down. Then I grabbed the other takeout containers on the table—their old leftovers—and dumped them on her head. “No manners! You want to eat? Eat this!” “And you, Tyler. Have a feast!” I threw the leftover soup and rice on his face. They shrieked like kettles boiling over. I took a video and sent it to Sarah: [This is what happens when you mess with me.] Sarah replied: [Queen!] I ignored their crying, ate my crayfish, and watched a show on my phone. By the time I finished, Dave still wasn’t home. I went to pack some clothes. While packing my skincare, I noticed something wrong. My expensive face masks were missing. I thought Chloe took them, but then I found a press-on nail in the drawer. I never wear those. Dave found a new mom for the kids. Good. Evidence of infidelity would be useful for the divorce. I packed quietly. Just as I was leaving, the door opened. Dave was back, holding a bowl of cheap spicy soup. Feeding the kids slop while he probably ate a feast with his mistress. Seeing me, he assumed I was back to beg forgiveness. He put on his arrogant face. “Couldn’t make it out there, huh? A woman with no skills can only starve. How would you live without me?” Ridiculous. I laughed. “Is your brain broken or did you gargle with sewage? Why does your mouth smell like sh*t? Rely on you? And eat spicy soup? No thanks.” Dave sneered. “Keep talking tough. If I’m wrong, why are you back? Whatever, I’ll save you some face. Since you’re back, clean this place up. Look at this mess.” He looked me up and down. “Yellow-faced woman wearing a dress? Go change. How can you clean in a dress?” He threw his jacket on the sofa and marched toward the bedroom like a king. “Okay. Let me show you how I clean in a dress.” I grabbed the bowl of spicy crayfish soup and dumped it over his head. “Here’s a tip. Crayfish soup. Oops, look at you, eating so fast you got it everywhere. Let me help you wipe it.” I grabbed a filthy rag from the table and smeared it over his face. Dave shoved me away, roaring. “Jane! Are you crazy?! You dumped soup on me?! You want to die?!” Tyler and Chloe ran out, looking like two sad piles of garbage. Tyler hugged Dave and cried. “Dad! That crazy woman bullied us! She threw leftovers on me! Kill her, Dad!” Chloe joined in. “Yeah, Dad, beat her! Blue Hair says disobedient women need a beating. Don’t lose face!” Brainwashed beyond repair. Dave was riled up. “Okay! Daddy will teach this bitch a lesson for you!” He raised his hand to hit me. Just as he thought! Before he could strike, I messed up my hair and clothes, ran out the door, and collapsed on the ground, screaming. “Help! Domestic violence! Dave is beating his wife! Help!” Neighbors opened their doors. A kind old lady ran to me. “Jane, what happened? Don’t cry, tell me.” “Dave… he beat me! I just came home a little late and he beat me!” “I don’t want to live anymore!” I had a reputation as a saint in the neighborhood. Everyone believed me and started yelling at Dave. Dave tried to defend himself. “No! She’s lying! I didn’t hit her! Look, she threw soup on us!” “If I didn’t throw it, I wouldn’t have escaped! He would have killed me! I took care of them for years and this is what I get!” The neighbors were furious. They looked ready to mob him. Dave panicked. He threw my bag out. “Jane, get out!” Slam. The neighbors comforted me. Once I “calmed down,” they went home. Dave’s reputation was ruined. I picked up my bag and went back to Sarah’s, satisfied. 3 When I got to Sarah’s, she had good news. The studio posted about my classes online, and lots of people remembered me. Many signed up. Sarah was excited. “Jane, you’ve still got it! You brought in so many students. Big bonus coming your way! Honestly, since you stopped playing maid, you look amazing. With a little makeup, you look just like you did back in the day.” I looked in the mirror and smiled. I used to be the troupe beauty. I told Sarah about Dave’s affair and asked her to investigate. I needed proof for the divorce and property division. She was on it. Two days later, Sarah got the PI report. The mistress was a new hire on Dave’s team, named Vivi. Photos of them dining, kissing, entering hotels. Ironclad evidence. Living it up with his mistress while his kids ate garbage. They deserved each other. Sarah asked, “Jane, what’s the plan?” I smirked. “Total destruction.” That night, we prepared. Sarah printed flyers. I made posters. Tomorrow was Monday—perfect day for drama. The next morning, Sarah hired five people to hand out flyers at Dave’s office. The flyers had dates, times, and pictures. The colleagues were shocked and thrilled. Nothing beats office gossip. Within an hour, everyone knew. We waited at a cafe until 5 PM. Quitting time. My turn. I wore a tight dress, heels, and sunglasses. Two bodyguards followed me. At the office entrance, the bodyguards unfurled a banner filled with intimate photos of Dave and Vivi. Large text: “CONGRATULATIONS DAVE ON YOUR NEW CONCUBINE!” I held a megaphone, looping a recording of their timeline. Colleagues leaving work stopped to watch and record. Soon, Dave and Vivi walked out, arms linked. Their smiles froze when they saw the banner. I took off my sunglasses. “Dave, long time no see. Congrats on the new lady.” Dave lunged at me, but saw the phones recording. He hissed, “Jane! What are you doing? Stop embarrassing us! Let’s go home!” I laughed. “Embarrassing? I don’t think so. I’m not the one who should be embarrassed. Let’s talk right here.” Sarah walked up. “Yeah, Dave. Dare to do it, dare to own it?” Dave’s face was black. “It’s not what you think. Let’s go home and talk.” “Not what I think? Then what is it? Say it here. Nothing to hide, right? I’m sure your colleagues want to know the truth.” Dave shouted, “Jane, Vivi and I are just colleagues! Nothing else! These are fake!” I pretended to believe him. “Really? Then let me check your phone.” “That’s my privacy! You can’t!” “I’m your legal wife! But fine, don’t show me. These proofs are enough.” I took the divorce papers from Sarah and slapped them onto Dave’s face. “Sign it. Cheating means you get less.” Sarah and I walked away, leaving Dave in his humiliation. 4 The next morning, I brought movers to the house. I bought most of the furniture and appliances with my savings. I wasn’t leaving them for the trash family. When I entered, Tyler, Chloe, and Dave were at the table, waiting for Vivi to make breakfast. Tyler glared. “Stupid woman, why are you here? We don’t need you. We have a new mom. She’s a million times better. She bought me my game console.” Chloe added, “Yeah, we don’t want a cheap mom. New mom supports me and Blue Hair. That’s what youth is about! Unlike you, old antique.” Laughable. They thought Vivi’s indulgence was love. She was just raising them to be useless. Not my problem anymore. “Think what you want. Good luck with Vivi. I don’t want you two idiots anyway.” I directed the movers. “TV, bookshelf, computer… I bought them all. Take them.” Dave slammed the table. “Who dares?! This is my house!” I shrugged. “Your house, sure. But I bought the stuff. I have receipts. Even the cops can’t stop me. Guys, ignore him. Move it out. I’ll pay extra.” “Jane, don’t go too far!” “I am going too far. What are you gonna do about it?” I walked into Chloe’s room. “Take the piano too.” Chloe blocked it. “My piano! You can’t take it!” “I paid for it. You begged to learn, then called me a control freak for making you practice. I’m doing you a favor. You’re too busy riding scooters with Blue Hair to play anyway. Don’t waste my money.” I pulled Chloe away. “Move it!” Chloe glared. “I hate you!” “Feeling is mutual.” I walked out under their hateful gazes. “Bye bye, trash.” A few days later, the court ruling came. I got 70% of the assets. Dave got 30%. The same day, Dave got fired for “misconduct affecting company image.” Meanwhile, my career was booming. My rate kept going up, but students kept coming. Parents wanted me to mentor their kids for dance school. I became the star teacher. Hearing Dave lost his job, I called him to gloat. I love kicking a man when he’s down. Even with little money left, Dave insisted on a lavish wedding with Vivi to save face. He sent me an invite to show off. I went. Dressed in black, looking fabulous. I gave him a thick red envelope. Dave smirked. “Regret it now? You were shortsighted.” I spoke loudly. “Oh, I regret it so much! Getting most of the money… This wedding cost a lot, right? Shame you can’t live the poor life anymore!” Dave huffed. “Don’t be smug, Jane. I’ll earn it back in no time. You’ll just eat through your savings.” “How? With your non-existent job? Oh, I forgot, you have no job and two kids to feed. Unlike me, making sixteen grand a month.” “Don’t bully the poor youth! You’ll regret it!” “Sure, sure. ‘Don’t bully the poor middle-aged man.’ I’ll wait for your miracle.” I left before eating. Pity I couldn’t see their faces when they opened the envelope full of spirit money (hell money).

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Another girl just confessed her love to Levi. Thirteenth time this semester. Even though everyone knows he has a girlfriend, they still throw themselves at him like hungry wolves. Luckily, I’m used to it. After all, I’m the one who told him not to go public with our relationship. 1 Someone stepped up to comfort the crying girl, shooting Levi a playful, resentful glare. “Same old excuse, Levi? Could you at least change it up? Save the girl some face.” Whoa. That’s the Drama Department’s Queen Bee, isn’t it? Judging by those soft eyes and that intimate tone… is there something going on? I felt a spark of excitement. Is Levi about to cheat? Does this mean I can finally dump him guilt-free? Clearly, I wasn’t the only one smelling drama. The mixer instantly buzzed with energy. “Ooooh~ Look who’s stepping in to comfort her? Smells like the real girlfriend energy.” “Saving the face he wouldn’t give, huh?” “Does anyone not know our department Queen and King are the #1 ship on campus? They beat second place by two thousand votes!” “Why are they even at this mixer? Just here to flex on us singles?” “Probably just supporting the class. Otherwise, this power couple would be on a date right now!” … The jeering got louder. Someone shoved the Queen Bee, and she stumbled, nearly falling right into Levi’s arms. I whipped out my phone, camera ready. I just needed them to hug, and click—cheating evidence secured. But Levi dodged her like he was on roller skates. Smooth. Tsk. What a pity. “I told you, I have a girlfriend.” Same old line. Someone laughed dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve said it a hundred times since freshman year. We all know you ‘have a girlfriend’.” Another girl giggled, linking arms with the Queen Bee. “And that girlfriend is her, right? You two been keeping it secret?” The Queen Bee shook her head frantically, blushing with embarrassment and shyness. She glanced at Levi. “Stop talking nonsense! I’m not his girlfriend!” “She’s shy! She’s shy!” The noise erupted. I watched Levi’s expression darken. A bad feeling started to creep in. I heard him say, “She’s not my girlfriend.” The Queen Bee chimed in, “Exactly! If you guys keep talking nonsense, I’m gonna get mad!” The others exchanged knowing looks and laughed. We get it, wink wink. Levi’s face was now black as a skillet. He looked up, scanning the crowd. My heart skipped a beat. I tried to turn away casually. But he locked onto me in a second. Then, under the gaze of everyone in the room, he parted the crowd and strode straight toward me. He touched the glass in my hand and took it away. “You have a bad stomach. Don’t drink cold stuff.” He downed the drink in one gulp, turned to the statues in the room, and said, “I’m taking my girlfriend home.” Under the dim lights, I saw the Queen Bee’s face go pale, her eyes fixed on me with a death stare. 2 Levi actually has a girlfriend. The news swept through campus that night. By morning, the school forum was flooded with my info and photos. The judgment threads were building skyscrapers. [She’s so average I can’t believe it.] [Does Levi have an ugly fetish?] [A flower stuck in cow dung.] [Comparing her to Sienna is an insult to Sienna. Levi needs to see an optometrist.] And those were the nice comments. Some were so nasty I started to wonder if I was some hideous monster unworthy of life. After venting their confusion, the forum reached a consensus: [I bet Levi just doesn’t want to go public with Sienna yet, so he grabbed a random girl as a shield.] This theory got rave reviews. Any dissenting opinions were ignored. I lay in bed, scrolling with relish. I ignored Levi’s messages and even liked the “shield” post, bringing the likes to a perfect 666. Just as I was clicking the next thread, my dorm door slammed open. My roommate—who slept on the bottom bunk—stormed in and smashed her lunch box onto my bed. I jumped up, dumbfounded, watching food splatter all over my sheets. “Are you crazy?” “You’re the crazy one!” She stared at me with pure hatred. “You’re really Levi’s girlfriend?” “…” Right. I forgot. She’s also one of Levi’s secret admirers. She used to rant in the dorm about how shameless Sienna (the Queen Bee) was. “You watched me fangirl over him every day. Were you laughing at me the whole time?!” ?? I swear to God, I wasn’t! Levi has been a shining star since he was a kid. Even with his prickly personality, he shines. It’s normal for everyone to love him. Why would I laugh? But my roommate clearly didn’t see it that way. Her eyes were red, and she looked ready to scream more, but my phone interrupted her. “Zoe, are you okay?” My roommate and I both froze. I looked at my phone. When I jumped earlier, I must have accidentally answered Levi’s call. He heard everything. It was awkward. His tone was icy. “I’m coming over.” “Don’t!” But he hung up before I could finish. My roommate finally reacted. She threw herself on her desk and started wailing like she’d been mortally wounded. “You did that on purpose!” Through her sobs, she spat venom at me: “Don’t get cocky, Zoe! The last person who crossed Sienna dropped out in disgrace. She won’t let you off!” Hearing this unexpected gossip, I didn’t even blink. I just stared sadly at my quilt. I just changed the sheets. My spare set isn’t dry yet. 3 Five minutes later, Levi arrived. My roommate bit her lip stubbornly. Levi glanced at my messy bed, his face cold enough to freeze water. Then he looked at her, undisguised disgust in his eyes. “You did this?” Being looked at like garbage by your crush is apparently hard to handle. My roommate’s lips trembled, and she ran out crying. Levi stepped up onto the ladder with his long legs and started stripping my bed. I slid down to sit on his chair, scrolling the forum, eating my own melon (gossip) while dealing with him. “Move out of the dorm.” “Where would I live?” “Rent a place off-campus.” “With you?” I scoffed. “Dream on.” He went silent. My finger twitched, refreshing the page. Two new threads popped up. [BREAKING! Campus King just entered the girls’ dorm!] [Debunked! Zoe Cow-Dung might not be a shield. Her roommate just got dumped and ran out crying.] “…” Zoe Cow-Dung? Seriously?! Levi walked over with the dirty sheets in a bag. “Let’s go buy new bedding.” I looked up at him coldly. “Did I or did I not say I didn’t want people to know?” “But I hate them throwing themselves at me when they know I’m taken.” I laughed sarcastically. “Ungrateful.” “I only want you to like me. Everyone else can get lost.” I hate it when he gets cheesy. He’s been like this since we were kids. An emotionally stunted weirdo who followed me around calling “Zoe, Zoe” like a lost duckling. People thought I was his child bride. God knows I was just a stray kid his grandpa picked up while collecting cans. Before his house, I lived under bridges and in hospital waiting rooms. And less than two years after I arrived, his parents died in a car crash. Grandpa died of grief soon after. I’m a jinx. He shouldn’t be with me. 4 The rumors got wilder. Besides attacking my looks, they added new lore. They said I was a rich heiress who used money and power to force Levi to be my boyfriend. They said I was loose, sleeping with tons of guys on and off campus. They described it so vividly you’d think they were watching. At noon, I was at my new part-time job at a bubble tea shop when I heard my roommate’s voice. I couldn’t see who she was talking to, but I heard her say I wore cheap clothes but used cameras worth thousands. “The rumors aren’t fake. She’s dirty. Levi was definitely tricked.” “Really?” The other voice was gentle, concerned. “Then Levi…” “There’s no way Levi is with her because he likes her!” “Who knows what dirty tricks she used?” I wanted to laugh. I was about to look up when the agitated voice continued: “Sienna, no one would choose her over you! Levi wants to be an actor, and your family owns a media empire. How could he not choose you?” “What are you saying? Choose me…” The other voice sounded flustered, then sighed softly. “It has nothing to do with my family. I’m just worried about Levi. Even if he doesn’t like her, his reputation will suffer. You know how important a clean image is in this industry.” “Then you should steal him back!” My roommate urged. “If it was you, I’d accept it. Everyone would. But Zoe? Who does she think she is? How is she worthy of Levi?” “Stop… stop saying that. We’re just good friends!” “Levi never makes friends easily. You’re the special one!” I quietly lowered my head, covering my face with the ingredient list.

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It all started because my brother, the billionaire philanthropist, made a casual comment while handing out scholarships: “Funny coincidence. You and my sister share the exact same birthday. Down to the minute.” Because of that one sentence, the scholarship student, Sarah, convinced herself she was the real heiress who had been switched at birth. She hired two thugs, kidnapped me, and planned to kill me to “reclaim” her identity. In my past life, in that moment of crisis, I called my fiancé for help. But the moment he picked up, he sneered impatiently: “Serena, you stole Sarah’s life. This is the price you have to pay.” When I was pushed off the cliff into the river, my fiancé’s uncle suddenly appeared. He dove into the freezing water to save me. But exhaustion took him. We both drowned, sinking to the bottom of the river together. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day of the kidnapping. This time, when Sarah smirked and told me to pick someone to call for my last words, I didn’t hesitate. I called my brother. 1 “Serena Vanderbilt, you shameless thief! You’ve been squatting on my life for twenty years. Today, I’m taking it back!” Sarah signaled the thugs. They immediately moved in, tearing at my clothes. Seeing the panic on my face, Sarah laughed, a sound dripping with triumph. She kicked my phone across the dusty floor toward me. “You aren’t walking out of here alive. But I’m generous. I’ll give you one phone call to say your goodbyes.” I looked up. Sarah was staring at me with eyes that were beautiful but filled with pure venom. I knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted me to call Chad—my fiancé—so I could be humiliated and rejected by him one last time before I died. That’s how it went down in my previous life. But not this time. I dialed my brother’s private line. I never imagined that my brother’s casual remark about our birthdays would fuel such an insane delusion in Sarah. I tried to explain, but Sarah was dead set on her fantasy of being the “True Heiress.” Even Chad, the man I was supposed to marry, bought into her garbage. If my brother knew how Chad treated me, he wouldn’t just ruin him financially; he’d make him wish he were dead. The call connected. I screamed before anyone could speak. “East Hampton, Cliffside Villa! Sebastian, save me!” Sarah snatched the phone from my hand and smashed it onto the concrete floor. “You didn’t call Chad?” She looked at me in disbelief, then sneered. “Doesn’t matter. Even if you called your ‘brother,’ he won’t save a fake like you.” “Alright, hurry up. Tie her up and toss her in the river. Make it look like a suicide.” I knew Sebastian would move heaven and earth to get here, but I needed to stall. My heart was pounding out of my chest. “Let me go! This is a felony! I already sent out an SOS. If anything happens to me, you’re all going down for life. Is it worth it?” The thugs didn’t care. They dragged me toward the edge. Just as the rushing water came into view, a familiar figure sprinted out of the woods. He kicked one of the thugs in the chest and pulled me into his arms. “Serena, I’ve got you. Don’t be scared.” Hearing Julian’s voice, tears instantly blurred my vision. He was Chad’s uncle, but only three years older than his nephew. In my last life, I thought we were strangers. But when it mattered, he was the one who died trying to save me. Since fate hit the reset button, this time, I’m going to protect him. “Julian, run! I can handle them!” I yelled, seeing his pale face. He had been sickly since childhood, rarely leaving his estate. Fighting two thugs was suicide. Predictably, the thugs recovered and knocked him to the ground. Sarah frowned. “Where did this random hero come from? Whatever. Toss him in too.” Seeing Julian struggling to get up to protect me, I screamed at Sarah. “Sarah! That’s Chad’s uncle! He’s a Kensington! If you hurt him, the Kensington family will hunt you to the ends of the earth!” Sarah hesitated for a second, then scoffed. “I’ve never heard Chad mention an uncle. And look at him—he’s a sick weakling. He’s probably a reject of the family.” “You think the Kensingtons would go to war with me, the Vanderbilt heiress, over a reject? Please. Besides, dead men tell no tales. I write the history today.” Julian was beaten half to death. I was hogtied on the ground. I glared at Sarah. “I don’t know what kind of mental gymnastics you did to convince yourself you’re a Vanderbilt, but I am my parents’ daughter. I can forgive a lot, but if Julian dies, I swear I will make you beg for death.” Sarah threw her head back and laughed maniacally. “Serena, you really are delusional until the end. I get it. Who would want to give up the billionaire lifestyle?” “But denying it won’t help. I already did a DNA test. I am the Vanderbilt heiress!” I stared at her, stunned. A DNA test? How? My parents passed away years ago. It’s just me and Sebastian. How did she get Sebastian’s DNA? I didn’t have time to ask. The thugs dragged Julian and me to the cliff’s edge. Below us, the river raged. It was a hundred-foot drop. “Break her legs before you throw her,” Sarah commanded, her voice sweet and cruel. A thug raised a metal pipe. Julian, blood streaming down his face, threw his body over mine. “Serena, I’ll hold them off! Run!” “Die, hero!” The thug swung the pipe down. SCREECH! A convoy of black SUVs skidded to a halt mere feet away. “Freeze! Drop it or you die!” My brother’s head of security, Marcus, jumped out. Behind him was an army of Vanderbilt guards. Finally. The thugs were pinned instantly. Sarah shrieked, “Who are you?! Unhand me! I am the Vanderbilt heiress!” Marcus didn’t hesitate. He chopped her neck, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious. “Take the trash to the warehouse,” Marcus ordered. “Ms. Serena will decide their fate.” Julian and I were rushed to the hospital. The doctor said I only had superficial wounds. Julian was worse—severe concussion, broken ribs. When he was finally stable in the VIP ward, I borrowed a nurse’s phone to call Sebastian. “Serena,” Sebastian’s voice was shaking. “I’m stuck in a board meeting in London, or I would be there myself. Are you okay?” “I’m fine, thanks to Marcus. Leave some guards here, let Marcus go back to you.” Then I took a breath. “Sebastian, cancel the engagement. I don’t want to marry Chad anymore. I love his uncle, Julian.” There was a pause, then a dark chuckle. “Good. That Chad kid has no spine anyway.” “Since you’re done with him, I’m pulling all Vanderbilt funding from the Kensington Group starting today. Let’s see how he likes the real world.” After hanging up, I sat by Julian’s bed. In both lives, Chad was a disappointment. He ignored my calls for help and sided with a delusional stalker. But before I could even plan my revenge, Chad burst into the hospital room. He looked furious. Without a word, he slapped me across the face. Smack! “Serena! Are you insane?! You stole Sarah’s life for twenty years, and now you hire thugs to hurt her? When your brother finds out, you’re dead! Don’t drag me down with you!” I tasted blood. I didn’t cry. I didn’t flinch. I slapped him back with everything I had. “You believe her? You grew up with me and Sebastian. Does she look anything like us?” Chad touched his cheek, stunned, then scowled. “Stop lying! Sarah showed me the DNA test.” Then his tone shifted to fake sympathy. “Look, I know you don’t want to lose the money. If you confess and give Sarah her identity back, I’ll keep you as a mistress. You won’t be Mrs. Kensington, but you won’t starve.” I was still trying to figure out the DNA test angle when a voice screeched from the hallway. “Serena Vanderbilt!” Sarah marched in, face unscathed (she must have woken up), followed by… my family’s own security guard? “Who let her out?” I asked, shocked. The guard stepped forward and kicked me in the shin. I dropped to my knees. He grabbed my hair and slapped me. “You fake! How dare you act like the boss in front of me? Tired of living?” My ears rang. This guard looked at me with pure disgust, like he knew I was the imposter. “Did Marcus not tell you?” I gasped. “Sarah is lying.” The guard sneered. “Ms. Sarah is the real bloodline. You’re just a cuckoo in the nest.” Sarah waved her hand dismissively, and the guard stepped back, bowing to her. She looked at my swollen face and turned to Chad. “Chad, babe. She stole my life, tried to kill me, and nearly got away with it. If my loyal guard hadn’t arrived, I’d be dead.” “So, as her boyfriend, how are you going to handle this?” Sarah’s story was full of holes, but Chad ate it up. He stepped on my hand, grinding his heel into my fingers. “You’re toxic, Serena. Apologize to Sarah now!” “Chad, we’re still engaged! You think you can get away with this?” I screamed. He pressed harder. “Engaged? To a fake? Dream on. I’m marrying Sarah. I know you’re obsessed with me, but it’s over. Beg Sarah for forgiveness, and maybe she’ll let you live.” Pain shot up my arm. I glared at them. “You prize a delusional psycho over me? Just wait until you fall from your pedestal, Chad.” The word “psycho” triggered Sarah. She grabbed a baton from the guard’s belt. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” She swung the baton at my head. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact. It never came. “Leave her alone!” Julian had dragged himself out of the hospital bed and thrown himself over me. The baton cracked against his back. He collapsed, coughing blood, but still managed to gasp: “Chad… don’t be an idiot. Serena is real. Sarah… she kidnapped us…” Chad looked at his bleeding uncle, hesitation flickering in his eyes. But Sarah started sobbing. “He’s your uncle? Chad, maybe we shouldn’t get married. Serena kidnapped me, and now your family is bullying me too…” “I can’t handle a family with such… loose morals.” Chad’s hesitation vanished. He kicked Julian in the ribs. “Uncle, how could you side with this fraud against Sarah? You’re a disgrace.” Chad grabbed the baton. “Serena, today I’m breaking your leg as payment for Sarah’s suffering.” He raised the weapon. I couldn’t move. Just then, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. A voice, cold as the grave, boomed: “STOP! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

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After Mom divorced Dad—who was always “too busy” to be home—life got tough. She adopted the “calm and collected” persona. Never fought for anything, never raised her voice. The neighbors all said she was a saint. So, I became her mouthpiece. The things she “couldn’t” say, I said. The people she was “too polite” to offend, I cursed out. The neighbors all whispered that I was petty and rude, nothing like my saintly mother. Then one day, a local drunk tried to assault her. Mom was putting up a desperate fight. Without thinking, I grabbed a glass bottle and smashed it over his head, saving her. I ran to the stairwell to call for help, but Mom shoved me from behind. I tumbled down the stairs, spine shattering against the concrete steps. Paralyzed from the neck down. It turned out her “desperate fight” was just foreplay. It turned out the drunk was her high school crush, the bad boy she never got over. They moved in together immediately. One afternoon, I woke up from a nap because the bed was shaking. I opened my eyes to see the drunk on top of me. I wanted to fight, but my body wouldn’t move. In a panic, I screamed for Mom. But then I saw her peeking through the doorway. Her eyes weren’t filled with horror, but with jealousy. Despair swallowed me whole. I bit my tongue off, but I didn’t die. So I starved myself. That finally did it. Mom shook her head, sighing with fake pity. “I told you not to be so hot-tempered. You should be calm like a chrysanthemum. Now look, you’ve lost your life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the divorce. My parents asked me: “Who do you want to live with?” I chose Mom, of course. I have a debt to repay for her “great kindness.” 1 “Nina, who do you choose?” Mom asked, calm and confident as always. Dad looked devastated, but a glimmer of unrealistic hope still shone in his eyes. He pleaded silently. I buried the hatred deep in my eyes. “I choose… actually, let me use the bathroom first. You guys discuss the other stuff!” I pulled out my cracked phone—Mom’s hand-me-down—and texted Dad: [Dad, I want to live with you, but I’m going to choose Mom. Please don’t be sad. I’ll come back to you soon. Delete this after reading.] I flushed the toilet and walked out. Dad looked like a new man. The despair was gone, replaced by a rosy glow of vitality. I never realized how much my choice in my past life had destroyed him. Mom shot him a look of disdain and started her PUA routine: “Guess I wasted my time. Can’t wait to go meet your little mistress before the ink is even dry, huh?” 2 The “mistress” Mom referred to was Aunt Diane, Dad’s childhood friend. She had pursued him once, but Dad was already in love with Mom. Dad, being the honest idiot he was, told Mom everything. Back then, Mom just laughed it off. Proud as a peacock, she wouldn’t deign to be jealous of a “country bumpkin.” Now that she wanted a divorce, she suddenly cared about Aunt Diane, painting Dad as morally bankrupt. But in my past life, it was this “country bumpkin” who brought me food and water after I was paralyzed. Dad argued back, face red, but Mom just crossed her arms and said coolly, “See? I hit a nerve. Why else would you react so strongly?” Dad was clumsy with words. Every time he tried to defend himself—”I haven’t even spoken to her in years!”—Mom would cut him off with a breezy, “I don’t believe you. Don’t bother explaining.” “I didn’t do it!” Dad shouted again, but this time, his voice was firm. Because he knew his daughter believed him. 3 In my last life, Dad gave Mom the house and most of his savings because he was afraid I’d suffer. He left with almost nothing. Mom accepted it all calmly, as if she were doing him a favor. “He gave it willingly,” she’d say. I suspect she had been badmouthing Dad to me for years, using the “evil stepmother” trope to scare me into choosing her, all to secure his assets. The irony is, I believed her lies, chose her, and walked straight into hell. “You want to eat? Make it yourself. Girls need to be independent. Go wash the dishes!” She’d push dirty plates at me—leftovers from her delicious stir-fry while I stared at my bowl of plain white rice. When I lived with Dad, he never let me touch dish soap, saying it would ruin my hands. “Just study,” he’d say. With Mom, even adding an egg to my instant noodles was a crime. “I need that for breakfast tomorrow. Why are you so greedy?” She canceled my piano lessons immediately. “You have no talent. Why waste the teacher’s time?” 4 “Nina, hurry up. Me or your dad?” Mom stared at me intensely. I didn’t disappoint her. “I choose Mom.” Mom smiled, a victory lap in her eyes. “Jack, she made her choice. Now let’s talk assets.” I almost laughed looking at the divorce agreement she drafted. It left Dad with nothing. This was my “saintly” mother. In my past life, she used me as a weapon. This life, I’m aiming that weapon right back at her. “Mom, if Dad gives us the house, where will he live? We can go to Grandma’s, but he’ll be homeless! He just lost me, now he loses his home? That’s so sad!” Mom’s face twisted. Her “thoughtful little jacket” was suddenly letting in a draft. She stammered, trying to maintain her persona. “Well… I didn’t really want this dump, it’s just closer to your school.” I cut off her retreat. “Oh, Mom, Grandma’s house is only a few minutes further by bus. It’s fine.” Mom’s face went dark. “I… I’m doing this for you!” I smiled, showing all my teeth. “Don’t worry, Mom! I have a conscience, just like you taught me. I wouldn’t let Dad be homeless just to save five minutes on a bus ride!” Mom’s face cycled through colors like a broken traffic light. 5 With no other choice, she glared at me and changed the agreement. Dad kept the house, but he had to pay her $60,000. They both signed. The divorce cooling-off period was over, so the paperwork went through fast. They got their divorce certificates. Mom let out a huge breath. She had been terrified Dad would back out. “Transfer the $60,000 to my account,” Mom said, her “calm” facade cracking with greed. “Mom, what’s the rush? Let’s transfer the house title to Dad first.” Mom frowned but went along with it. A few days later, the title transfer was done. “Now transfer the money!” Mom’s patience was gone. “Didn’t you lend your brother $80,000?” Dad said coldly. “You keep $60,000 of that debt. Transfer the remaining $20,000 to me. Here’s my account number.” This was the script Dad and I rehearsed. Mom’s brain short-circuited. The math was simple: Assets were split. The $80,000 loan was a marital asset. Dad was owed half. Mom: ??? “Jack, what do you mean? You’re not paying me, and I owe you $10,000? You tricked me?!” Her “calm” persona shattered into a screech. Dad looked innocent. “I didn’t trick you. Just stating facts.” “You know my brother used that money for a house! He can’t pay it back now! How am I supposed to live?!” “How you live is none of my business. You knew he couldn’t pay it back, so why did you lend it?” 6 Dad was a steelworker. Hard labor, long hours, living on-site. Mom called it “never being home.” Years of sun and sweat made his skin rough and dark. Mom, pampered with skincare products paid for by him, looked young and fresh. The work was brutal, but the pay was good. Dad handed every paycheck to Mom. After expenses and mortgage, they had saved $80,000 in eight years. Then my uncle needed a house and a dowry. Grandma called, spun a sob story, and Mom—saint that she was—wired him the entire savings. When Dad found out, he nearly had a stroke. Mom just said, “Money is worldly. Helping my brother is a good deed.” Dad literally coughed blood and passed out. When he woke up in the hospital, he realized Mom wasn’t a partner. From then on, he stopped giving her his savings. Just a fixed allowance. Mom knew she messed up, but she refused to apologize. She just endured the budget cuts. Life was quiet until Mom met Steve. 7 We were at a noodle shop one day. A middle-aged man across from us poured half a bottle of liquor into his noodles, slurping loudly. The owner came over. “Sir, no alcohol allowed here. Please respect the rules.” “I paid! I’ll drink if I want!” The man yelled. The argument caught Mom’s attention. “Steve?” “Jen? Cough… is that you?” Steve’s voice turned instantly gentle, trying to hide his drunken crudeness. He was slightly chubby, dressed in a cheap suit, with soft hands that had never seen a day of hard work. “Sorry owner, I won’t drink.” Steve tried to eat his boozy noodles. The owner took the bowl away. “No alcohol means no alcohol.” Steve’s face darkened, but he forced a smile. “Fine, bring me a fresh bowl.” “Jen, is this your daughter?” Steve looked at me. Mom looked uncomfortable, tucking hair behind her ear. “Yes.” I got the feeling she didn’t want to admit I was hers. “Time flies! She’s so big now.” Steve gave me a “kind uncle” smile, but his eyes were greedy. He kept glancing at me while talking to Mom. I felt like bugs were crawling on my skin. I ate fast. “Mom, I’m done. You hurry up, I have homework.” Mom scowled. “Leave if you’re done. Interrupting adults is rude. Who did you get that rash personality from?” I ran out. Looking back, Mom and Steve had probably been hooking up long before the divorce. Poor Dad was clueless.

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In my past life, when my wife and her high school sweetheart—her “white moonlight”—were both rushed into the ER after a car accident, I saved my wife first. She survived without a scratch. Her lover, however, lost his legs because his treatment was delayed. He killed himself shortly after. My wife hated me to the bone. She screamed that I murdered him. To get revenge, she tampered with my car. When I drove our son to school, the brakes failed. We both died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the ER. My wife was lying on a stretcher, struggling, screaming at me to save her lover first. I knew then: she was reborn too. Fine. Since she wants it so badly, I’ll grant her wish. But later, when she knelt before me begging for forgiveness… well, that’s another story. 1 “David! Don’t save me! Save Julian first! You have to save Julian!” My wife, Claire, stared at me with intense, desperate eyes. In that moment, I knew. She came back too. She was reborn to the night she snuck out to meet her lover and crashed the car. In my last life, when Claire and Julian were wheeled in simultaneously, I was devastated. If not for the accident, I wouldn’t have known my wife had been cheating on me for years. But even then, seeing her in pain, my duty as a doctor kicked in. I was the only attending trauma surgeon on shift at that ungodly hour. I chose to operate on Claire. Julian had to wait for another surgeon to arrive. He missed the golden window for reattachment. It seems in this life, she wants to rewrite the script. I remembered the venom in her eyes in our past life. I remembered how she took her anger out on our son, Leo, making him tremble in fear. I remembered the scream Leo let out when our car crashed, the pain that seared my soul. My chest felt heavy, like a beast was clawing to get out. Since she wants to save her lover so badly… I’ll grant her wish. I just hope she doesn’t regret it. I nodded at her. Her face lit up with hope. “Thank God! He’s saved! He’s saved!” 2 I saved Julian. His legs, lost in the previous timeline, were preserved. But my wife? Not so lucky. Because she missed the critical window, she lost an arm. When I walked into the recovery room, my in-laws’ faces were dark as thunderclouds. “David! Did a donkey kick you in the head? Claire is your wife! You left her to rot and saved some stranger?” My mother-in-law screamed, pointing a finger in my face. My father-in-law joined in, cursing me for being incompetent. I stared at them blankly. It was laughable. My family was well-off. I graduated from a top med school and was a rising star in the hospital. Claire’s family? Her dad was a gambler drowning in debt. Claire didn’t work. My mom raised our kid. For years, I subsidized her family so she could live like a princess. Yet her parents never respected me. They always made snide comments, implying that without me, Claire would have married Julian, the rich boy. Yeah, right. Did she not want to marry him? Or did Julian just think she wasn’t good enough? I didn’t try to placate them like I used to. I said coldly, “Claire demanded I save Julian first. Not my fault. Also, she was in the car with him at 2 AM. You figure it out.” My in-laws froze, awkward silence filling the room. Claire lay on the bed. Instead of grieving her lost arm, she was smiling. “Mom, Dad, I’m fine. I lost an arm, but I saved Julian’s life.” I sneered internally. True love, huh? She always complained I didn’t give her enough. But for him, she gave an arm. Before, this would have broken my heart. Now? I felt nothing. From the moment she killed me and Leo, she was dead to me. “Mom, Dad, David… since you’re all here, I have an announcement.” She looked at me, serious. “David, after Julian and I are discharged, let’s get a divorce.” 3 My in-laws were stunned. But I knew exactly what she was thinking. She wanted to chase her happiness properly this time. In her past life, she constantly whined that if she had been there for Julian, he wouldn’t have committed suicide. She thought she was his savior. His light. I looked at her, amused. In this life, she’s disabled. Will the rich playboy Julian still see her as his light? I chuckled and agreed immediately. “Sure.” I want to see if her fairytale comes true. My quick agreement caught her off guard. She looked annoyed. “David, you’re agreeing so fast because I lost an arm, right? You think I’m damaged goods? Julian isn’t cold-blooded like you. I knew divorcing you was the right choice!” I nodded. “I hope so.” I turned to leave. She shouted at my back, “Just wait and see! Julian stayed single all these years for me. Once I’m divorced, he’ll definitely marry me!” Her parents heard this and started laughing excitedly, asking if she was serious about marrying into money. A few days later, once Claire could move, she practically lived in Julian’s ward. I heard Julian was “deeply moved” and swore to treat her well forever. Claire cried tears of joy and even came to brag to me. My colleagues whispered about her shamelessness, but she didn’t care. 4 My parents urged me to reconsider for Leo’s sake. But I was firm. A woman who could kill her own child for a man? She doesn’t deserve to be a mother. On the day we went to the courthouse, Julian’s driver brought them. Claire leaned into Julian’s embrace, smiling like a newlywed. Julian carried her purse, acting the perfect gentleman. “David, see? I’m better off without you.” Her eyes were triumphant. She wanted to hurt me. I just smiled politely. My indifference enraged her. “David, if Julian hadn’t been blocked by his family back then, I wouldn’t have married you out of spite. Do you really think a toad like you deserves swan meat like me?” I frowned at her ugly expression. She was hideous now. Why did I ever love her? I felt pathetic for my past self. “Fine. Since you got what you wanted, congratulations.” I walked away, ignoring her. She probably thought I fled in shame. 5 Articles about Claire started popping up online. “High School Sweethearts Reunited by Tragedy.” “Woman Sacrifices Arm to Save First Love.” Netizens called it “God-tier Romance.” My intern, Lily, was furious. She almost threw her phone. “God-tier romance my ass! Not a word about her cheating on her husband!” She looked at me, embarrassed. “Sorry, Dr. Evans. I just got mad. I didn’t mean to bring it up.” I looked at Lily’s flushed face and shook my head. “It’s okay.” I knew Claire planted those articles. According to her, Julian’s parents were the only reason they didn’t marry before. She was using public opinion to pressure his family. She branded herself as his “Savior.” She figured the wealthy parents would be moved by her sacrifice. She figured Julian loved her enough to fight for her. I laughed at her naivety. She didn’t understand men like Julian. If he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have given up so easily back then. He didn’t marry her when she was whole and beautiful. Now she’s a divorcee with a kid and one arm. She wouldn’t even make the cut as a mistress, let alone a wife. And rich families? They don’t accept “damaged goods.” She lived two lives and still didn’t get it. Sure enough, a few days later, all the articles vanished. Scrubbed from the internet. 6 After the divorce, Claire kept sending me photos. Holding hands with Julian. Julian carrying her. She was trying to make me jealous. But after a month, the messages stopped. I guessed her “happiness” had expired.

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I was the long-lost “True Heiress” returning home, expecting a dramatic scene of sorting out who belonged where. Instead, my family was fiercely protective of the “Fake Heiress.” Mom and Dad hemmed and hawed: “You don’t understand… it’s just not convenient for Chloe to leave us.” My brother was equally vague: “Chloe isn’t like other girls. You’ll get it when you meet her.” My brain instantly conjured an image of a delicate, fragile white lotus flower. My heart sank. Then the door burst open. A girl as agile as a falcon slammed her hand on the table and cupped her fist in a martial arts salute: “Sister! I’ve occupied your nest for so many years. I have no way to repay you, so I hereby return all the spicy, numbing flavor of these years to you!” With that, she lowered her head and swallowed a bowl full of ghost peppers and Sichuan peppercorns whole! She choked so hard her eyes rolled back. Instantly, I understood my parents’ and brother’s hesitation. This wasn’t a white lotus. This was a total idiot! 1 Mom and Dad rushed over, one handing her water, the other patting her back. “Oh my god, you big dummy! Your sister just got home, she’s not ready for this level of crazy! Don’t scare her!” Chloe, tears and snot streaming down her face from the spice, wailed loudly: “I just feel so bad thinking about how I enjoyed all the good life meant for my sister!” “Why did I get all the good stuff? I have to torture myself a little, or I can’t let this go!” My brother, Jason, patted my shoulder like this was normal. “See? I told you Chloe isn’t like other girls. Now you get it?” “With a brain like hers, if she left the family, she’d probably cause a national incident.” I looked at the energetic Chloe and felt an inexplicable warmth. Seeing she was about to swallow more raw peppers, I quickly interrupted: “Wait a second. Who said I had a bad life?” The wailing stopped abruptly. Chloe looked at me suspiciously. “Look at your skinny frame—” I sighed. “I have a high metabolism. I can’t gain weight no matter what I eat.” “My parents—oh, wait, your parents—always tried to fatten me up, but my body just wouldn’t cooperate.” Mom looked at her own slender figure and nodded in agreement. “This child takes after me.” Chloe looked at me with teary eyes. “But Jason said your parents—I mean, my parents—didn’t even come to see you off—” I laughed. “Dad is leading his team at an international competition, and Mom has a critical surgery. Neither of them could get away.” “They really wanted to see you and told me to get along with you.” Chloe’s eyes lit up, and she grabbed my hands. “Really? What are our parents like? Do you have photos? Tell me everything!” I pulled out my phone. The wallpaper was a family photo. “This is Dad,” I pointed to a huge, muscular man. “He’s an MMA coach, currently leading a team abroad.” Chloe gasped. “No wonder I’ve always loved fighting! It’s genetic!” I pointed to the tall, cool woman. “This is Mom. She’s an amazing doctor. When she was young, she saved so many lives during the big earthquake!” “Legend has it they met when Dad stopped a patient from attacking Mom at the hospital. Dad got hurt, Mom stitched him up, and it was love at first sight.” Chloe was shocked. “Huh? Isn’t Dad an MMA coach? How did he get hurt?” I kept a straight face. “…He gripped too hard and got glass shards in his hand.” The whole table burst out laughing. In the center of the photo, being hugged by them, was a delicate girl like a porcelain doll. Though I looked nothing like them, our smiles were equally bright. That was me, Sarah Xu. 2 I knew early on I wasn’t my parents’ biological daughter. When I was little, neighbors gossiped that I didn’t look like my parents at all, suggesting I was picked up from the trash. Dad got furious, shouting at them: “How do we not look alike? My wife has big, bright eyes, my daughter has big, bright eyes. It’s your eyes that are small and blind! Bah!” Mom scolded him for being rude, then covered my ears while yelling back: “Ever heard of recessive genes? Uneducated gossips! Whoever talks trash in front of my Sarah again, don’t come begging me for hospital appointments later!” From then on, no one dared to gossip in front of me. But as time went on, the differences grew. Mom and Dad loved heavy, spicy flavors; I preferred bland food. Dad was a tower of a man, Mom was tall and statuesque, but despite drinking milk like water, I capped out at 5’4″. I was naturally small-boned and frail. Skin tone, hair color, eye color… The doubts piled up. As a doctor, Mom sensed something was wrong but refused to believe it. Until the school physical, when I had my blood type tested for the first time. I held Mom’s trembling hand and said calmly: “Mom, I’m not your biological child, am I?” Mom’s eyes reddened, and she hugged me tight. “It must be a mistake. The test is wrong. You are our baby…” I held her hand back and whispered, “It’s okay. Even if I’m not your biological daughter, I love you.” “But I can’t selfishly take the love meant for another child. Before it’s too late.” “Take me for a DNA test, Mom.” Much later, I found out the other side of the story. Around the same time, the Gao family received their blood test results and realized their child might have been switched. They were agonizing over whether to tell their daughter. Jason happened to be watching a soap opera. “Haha, this show is so melodramatic. Switched at birth in this day and age?” Chloe chimed in: “Right? Like, don’t you know if your kid looks like you? Hilarious.” The Gao family members were all elegant and refined. Except Chloe. She was tall, athletic, and walked like she owned the place. A total tomboy. Chloe slapped her thigh. “Like me and my brother. Obviously biological siblings. He’s six feet, I’m six feet. Could that be a coincidence if we weren’t related?” Even Jason paused. Sis, is it possible that biological siblings… shouldn’t be the exact same height??? … Anyway, both families worked together, and finally, at age 16, we found each other. Back then, during the massive earthquake in Jiang City, Mom insisted on returning to the hospital to save lives despite being pregnant. Dad couldn’t stop her, so he went to help and protect her. Due to exhaustion, Mom went into premature labor. Coincidentally, Mrs. Gao, who was there donating supplies, also went into labor. In the chaos, the babies were swapped. According to the birth times, I was born five minutes before Chloe, making me the older sister. When the Gao family came to pick me up, my parents were away on business. I thought about it, left them a note, and went with the Gaos. I really wanted to see this sister I had never met. On the phone, when Chloe heard I was coming alone, she imagined some tragic scenario and started wailing. Which led to the chaotic scene at the beginning. 3 With the misunderstanding cleared up, Chloe looked at me with teary eyes, patting her chest. “Thank god. If your life was actually like those novels, I would have had to commit seppuku to apologize!” Her crybaby act was exactly like Dad’s. I stood on my tiptoes, patted her head, and comforted her: “Don’t worry, we both have the best families in the world.” She sniffled, looked back at the doting Gao family, and nodded vigorously. “Yeah, we’re so lucky to have the best moms and dads.” Jason leaned in with a dark face. Chloe quickly added: “And the best brother in the world!” Everyone laughed. The Gaos had prepared a feast. Near me were my favorite light dishes; near Chloe were spicy, heavy dishes. Mrs. Gao looked at me lovingly: “Your parents told us these are your favorites. Try them.” Jason made a fake pained face: “Chloe is addicted to spice. She dragged me into eating heavy flavors all these years. Thanks to you, I can finally eat normal food again.” Mr. Gao rolled his eyes at him, then pointed to a courier box by the door: “And your favorite snacks, all prepared according to their instructions.” My heart warmed. Chloe’s eyes sparkled: “Let me try a bite! Just one bite!” Jason poked her forehead, laughing: “You glutton.” 4 After dinner, Mrs. Gao took me to my room. It was next to Chloe’s, a bright suite decorated warmly. “Your parents said you have sensitive skin, so we washed all the bedding. It should be comfortable.” “Let us know if you need anything. This is your home, Sarah.” “Rest well. Tomorrow, Chloe will take you to register at the new school.” Both sets of parents agreed that since the Xus were busy, and the education in the capital was better, we should both stay here for school. The Xus would visit when they finished work. I nodded and whispered, “Thank you.” “…Mom.” Her eyes instantly reddened, tears of joy falling. “Oh! My good daughter.” That night, there was a gentle knock on my door. “Sis, are you asleep?” “Sis, are you scared of the dark? Do you want me to sleep with you?” I opened the door. Chloe darted in like a ferret. “Hehe, we’re sisters. Sisters should sleep together.” “I’ll be your security blanket.” I was confused. “Where did you hear that term?” Chunibyo Chloe said confidently: “That’s how it works in anime.” I facepalmed. We slept soundly.

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