My dad wasted away from esophageal cancer. For two whole years, not a single bite of food passed his lips. By the end, he was nothing but a skeleton draped in skin. The first New Year’s after he passed, he came to my mom in a dream. “Helen, my love, I’m starving. All I want is a taste of your spicy stir-fried heart.” My mom immediately cooked up a huge platter and brought it to his grave. The next day, she had a massive heart attack and died on the spot. I was heartbroken. My wife and I arranged my mother’s funeral. That night, my wife, Kate, also dreamed of my dad. “My dear daughter-in-law, Dad hasn’t eaten in so long. I’m craving your braised liver, with a good, strong whiskey.” Kate woke up, bought ten pounds of liver, and spent the morning cooking. She drove to the cemetery with the food and a bottle of expensive single malt. She came home and was rushed to the ICU with acute cirrhosis. Three days later, she was gone. I was drowning in a sea of grief. I asked my best friend to look after our daughter, Mia, while I handled the arrangements alone. But Mia vanished after school. I went half-mad with panic, finally finding her on the road leading to the cemetery. She was holding a large cup of spicy noodle soup, with pale, spongy pieces of pork lung floating on top. “Daddy, Grandpa and I used to eat here all the time. I dreamed he was hungry.” I snapped. I smacked the cup from her hands, the fiery broth splashing across the asphalt, and dragged her home. That night, I dreamed of my dad, too. “Son, my life was agony. Have pity on your old man.” “New Year’s Eve is the day after tomorrow. I’m coming home for dinner. Remember… you have to make fish!” I woke up in a cold sweat, clutching my daughter. For two full days, we sat in front of the three photographs on the mantel—my dad, my mom, my wife. We didn’t eat or drink. On New Year’s Day, I awoke to find my daughter breathless beside me. Her small hand was still clutching a half-eaten bag of spicy fish jerky. I couldn’t understand. I held her tiny body and screamed until my throat was raw, then I walked to the roof of our apartment building and stepped off the edge. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day my mom, her eyes red with grief, told me she was going to buy pig’s heart. … Just like last time, my mom, Helen, packed up a container of spicy stir-fried heart and started for the door. “Mom!” I shrieked, my voice cracking. “You can’t eat pig’s heart today!” Her hand trembled, spilling some of the sauce. Her eyes welled up. “Leo, it’s not for me. It’s for your father.” “He was crying in my dream, said he was starving, just desperate for a taste of this,” she pleaded, her voice thick with sorrow. “The man starved to death, Leo. He’s a hungry ghost. Can’t you just grant him this one wish?” Ignoring her shocked expression, I snatched the container from her hand, dumped the contents onto a cutting board, and hacked them to pieces with a cleaver. Then, I washed every last bit down the drain. “No one touches pig’s heart today!” I declared, my voice shaking. “What’s gotten into you? Your father adored you more than anyone!” Thump. I dropped to my knees before her, grabbing her legs and wailing. “Mom, I’m begging you. Please, just visit Dad another day!” My mother already had a weak heart, and it had only gotten worse since Dad’s passing. She couldn’t stand against my desperate pleas. I dragged her to the hospital for a full check-up. I called my best friend, Mark, who worked at the hospital, and had him prescribe the best heart medication available, no matter the cost. Mark cleared his schedule and stayed with us for the entire day of tests. “Aunt Helen’s blood pressure is high, and her heart rate is irregular,” he said gravely. “She needs to stick to a very light diet for a while.” He looked directly at her. “And absolutely no organ meats. The cholesterol is dangerously high for her condition.” My mom always listened to doctors. I could see the fear in her eyes as his words sank in, and for the first time, a sliver of relief pierced my anxiety. Once we were safely home, I made her promise not to leave the house. I would get her anything she needed. I didn’t know what caused the tragedy in my past life, but this time, I was going to do everything in my power to keep my family from that path. The hour of her death from my previous life came and went. She was sleeping soundly in her room. The immense weight on my chest finally lifted. The moment the tension broke, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over me. I collapsed onto the sofa and fell into a deep sleep. I was jolted awake the next morning by a call from the emergency services. “Are you the next of kin for Ms. Helen Graham? She suffered a sudden cardiac arrest. We were unable to revive her.” Impossible. She hadn’t eaten the pig’s heart. She hadn’t even gone to the cemetery. I raced to the hospital, but all I found was a body under a white sheet. I talked to the neighbor who went grocery shopping with my mom every day. She told me what happened. The butcher at the market, a notoriously stingy old woman, had been unusually generous that day, pushing everyone to try a sample of her special, farm-raised pork. “Just one bite! What harm can it do? If you like it, you buy!” she’d urged. My mom had protested, saying her blood pressure was high and she needed to avoid meat. But the butcher was insistent, and my mom, not wanting to be rude, finally relented and swallowed a small piece. Minutes later, she collapsed in the middle of the market. It turned out the sample was pork diaphragm—a cut of meat taken from right next to the heart. Tears streamed down my face. Why? Why couldn’t I save her? I stormed over to the butcher’s stall, demanding answers, but her family chased me away with meat cleavers. “We were running a promotion! What’s it to you? It was her time to go, that’s all!” the old woman shrieked after me. “I heard you let your own father starve to death! Don’t you dare come here pretending to be a dutiful son!” I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, until my wife, Kate, found me and led me home. She bustled around, making funeral arrangements, her presence a small comfort in the storm. But then the memory of my last life hit me like a physical blow. I grabbed her arm, my grip desperate, my voice a ragged whisper. “Promise me. No matter what you dream my dad says… promise me you won’t do it.” Kate just thought I was in shock, overwrought with grief. She nodded quickly, patting my hand. “Of course, honey. Don’t worry. I never dream anyway.” She comforted me for what felt like hours, and slowly, the frantic pounding in my chest began to subside. Back home, I fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep. I woke the next morning to the sound of Kate humming in the kitchen. She poked her head out, her expression full of concern. “Are you hungry? Breakfast is almost ready.” I nodded, shuffling toward the dining table on numb legs. When my eyes focused on the platter she was setting down, my blood ran cold. It was a plate of braised liver. “What are you doing?!” I roared, lunging forward and sweeping the entire plate into the trash can. My eyes were bloodshot, wild with terror. “Did you dream about him?” I demanded, my voice raw. “Didn’t I tell you not to listen to him?” Kate stared at me, her face pale with shock. Then, her expression crumpled in panic. “Leo, calm down! It’s okay! I didn’t dream anything, I just… I had a sudden craving for it.” “What is wrong with liver?” she cried. “Why are you acting like this?” The dam of grief and terror I’d been holding back for days finally burst. I broke down, sobbing like a child. I ended up telling her everything—about my dad’s dream, my mom, the pig’s heart. Kate held me, stroking my hair and murmuring comforting words. “You’re just under so much stress. It’s almost the New Year. Why don’t we take a trip, get away from all this?” she suggested softly. “It was just a nightmare, Leo. If we forget about it, it’ll be okay.” “I promise,” she said, looking me straight in the eye. “I won’t touch liver or whiskey. And if I dream about your dad, you’ll be the first to know.” Three days passed in an uneasy calm. I asked her again and again, and each time Kate insisted that nothing was wrong, that she hadn’t had any dreams. She even gently suggested I see a therapist, an offer I refused. Just as I was starting to breathe again, it happened. Kate didn’t come home from work. Her phone went straight to voicemail. That familiar, ice-cold dread crept back into my heart. I drove like a madman to the cemetery. From a distance, I saw her. She was sitting in front of my father’s grave. She was shoveling pieces of liver into her mouth. Beside her, a half-empty glass of whiskey was raised, as if toasting the cold stone.

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My sister, Vanessa, wanted to take a job doing private in-home massages. I tried to talk her out of it. “The world is full of creeps,” I told her. “If something happens, you’ll be trapped.” She grumbled, but she listened and didn’t take the job. But then her best friend, Tanya, landed a wealthy husband through that exact line of work and became a trophy wife. Vanessa grew to resent me, convinced I’d blocked her path to riches. She invited me hiking… and pushed me off a cliff. I was shattered to pieces. The next time I opened my eyes, I was staring at my sister, her face lit with excitement as she talked about the incredible money she could make. I just nodded. “Get rich, and don’t forget your little sister.” She had no idea about the living hell her friend was about to endure. This time, I wouldn’t interfere in her life. I would just let her rot. 1 Vanessa slapped my shoulder. “Look at you, always ready to leech off me. Why don’t you drop out of school and come work with me?” I was in grad school, working on a project with my professor, and money was tight. A cold sweat broke out on my skin as I saw the glint in her eyes. I forced a self-deprecating laugh. “With all these freckles? A client would probably see my face and demand I pay them.” Vanessa roared with laughter, preening in her handheld mirror. “You’re right. You’re so plain, you’d never make any real money. You’re just a bookworm, Bella. Destined for a life of thankless drudgery after graduation.” She’d been beautiful her whole life, and the constant praise had gone to her head. She was convinced she’d grow up to be a star or get scooped up by a millionaire. She believed her looks alone entitled her to that life, blind to the fact that success is built on hard work, not just a pretty face. Last time, I’d stopped her from taking that job, and her friend Tanya had reaped the rewards. Vanessa’s hatred for me festered until it boiled over, and she killed me. She never knew the unspeakable nightmare Tanya’s life became. Now that I’m back, I won’t lift a finger. I’ll just watch her self-destruct. 2 Vanessa suddenly lowered her mirror, a troubled look on her face. “Bella… you don’t think it’s… unsafe, do you? What if I get some gross, fifty-year-old creep?” Her intentions were never pure, so of course she was worried. I blinked, feigning innocence. “What do you mean? It’s not like they’re massaging you. What’s there to be afraid of?” A blush crept up her neck. “You’re too young. You wouldn’t get it.” “Huh?” “It’s the kind of thing where… the massage goes both ways.” She started pushing me toward the door. “You don’t understand, just get out of my room. Stop hanging around.” At the doorway, she leaned in and whispered, “Don’t you dare say a word to Mom and Dad, or I’ll rip your mouth open.” I clamped my lips shut and nodded like an obedient dog. She had ripped my mouth open before. More than once. There was the time she was caught holding hands with a boy by the dean, and she hired actors to pretend to be our parents. And the time she was watching porn with another boy and agreed to spend the night at his place. I’d told our parents about those things, about all of it, stopping her just in time. After her scoldings, she’d attack me, full of rage. The searing pain as her nails tore at the corners of my mouth is something I’ll never forget. But she was my sister. My own flesh and blood. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. I tried to save her from ruin, and she pushed me into the abyss. As expected, when I went into the living room, my parents asked what we were talking about. I lied smoothly. “I was just asking Vanessa for tips on how to get rid of my freckles.” My father shot me a look of disgust and turned away, as if I were some kind of hideous beast. My mother scoffed. “That face of yours? You’d need a skin transplant to fix it.” She sighed dramatically. “How could I have given birth to two daughters—one so beautiful, and the other so ugly?” In this house, my parents always loved Vanessa more. It made sense. Who would choose the ugly child over the beautiful one? It hurt, but I never fought it. I was grateful to them for giving me life. That’s why I always tried to help Vanessa. I knew if anything happened to her, the grief would destroy them. All their hopes were pinned on her—that she would marry rich and provide for them in their old age. All I could do was claw my way up on my own. I handed over the $500 for my monthly contribution to the household expenses, grabbed my suitcase, and left. Before walking out the door, I told them I wouldn’t be living at home anymore, and the payments would stop. My father called me an ungrateful brat. My mother threw a slipper at me and screamed for me to get out. They never wanted me to go to grad school. The only way they’d allow it was if I paid for my own tuition and living expenses, and gave them $500 a month. They pretended to make Vanessa pay too, but I’d overheard them admitting it was just a lie to milk me for more. She didn’t pay a cent, living at home for free, while I was only there one day a week. In my past life, I swallowed my pride and endured it. This time, I wouldn’t. I finally understood that parents who played favorites like that weren’t worthy of my love. 3 I moved into the dorms at school. Vanessa called me. “What’s this? The good girl is finally rebelling?” “I’m only home a few days a month, and they still wanted five hundred bucks. I got tired of it,” I said. “Hahaha! You’re finally getting a brain! If you want to make some real money, you should come work with me.” She started bragging about how much she was already earning. “Did you see the new purse I posted on Instagram? Just bought it, cost a few grand. Nice, right?” It was clear she’d already started the massage job and was doing well. Let her. She was still gloating. “It’s amazing. A little touching, a little chatting, and a thousand bucks just falls into your lap.” “Bella, you’re my sister. I can’t stand seeing you so dowdy. Why don’t you come work part-time with me on the weekends? If I recruit you, the company gives me a five-hundred-dollar bonus. I’ll even give you a hundred of it, how about that?” What a generous offer. I quickly refused. “I’m too clumsy. I’d be terrible at it.” “Don’t give me that. I’m picking you up this Friday night. If you dare stand me up, you just wait. I’ll make sure you get kicked out of your program!” To avoid her, I went home on Friday night. My parents screamed at me until I thought my ears would bleed. Vanessa stood by, smirking, enjoying the show. When the time came, she made a call. “Oh, Mr. Lee? Yeah, my sister can’t make it. She’s getting an earful right now… maybe some other time.” “Yeah, I know she’s not much to look at, but I’m her sister, I just wanted her to earn a little extra cash… Okay, fine, we’ll forget the interview then.” I watched her sashay out the door and finally let out a breath of relief. My parents were still yelling. I shot to my feet. “Are you done? If you’re done, I’ll get out of your sight!” That only made them angrier. I scrambled out the door and ran. 4 That night, I was sound asleep when my phone rang. Groggy, I fumbled to hang up but accidentally answered. The sound of Vanessa’s sobbing instantly woke me up. “This old man… he almost forced himself on me tonight, Bella… sob…” “I don’t want to do this anymore! It was so scary… I couldn’t push him off… If I hadn’t kept fighting, I… I would have been…!” I crept out into the dorm courtyard to take the call. I pretended to comfort her, but my words were carefully crafted to keep her from quitting. “Sis, didn’t you sign a contract? You should get your boss, Mr. Lee, to compensate you!” She choked back a sob. “You think I can do that?” “Of course! This is a workplace injury! You were on the job and a client assaulted you. Mr. Lee has to take care of it. He’ll probably have to pay you thousands in compensation.” At the mention of money, her crying stopped. “Okay… I’ll try.” After we hung up, I lay in bed for a long time before finally falling asleep. When I woke up the next morning, I checked my phone. As expected, Vanessa didn’t disappoint. “Bella! Here’s a little something for you! I really owe you one. I never would have thought to go to Mr. Lee.” “He said the old bastard paid three grand in damages, and he gave me two thousand of it! Oh my god, this is the easiest money I’ve ever made.” I opened the digital red envelope she sent. Five dollars and twenty cents. “Thanks, sis.” She replied, “Next time something happens, I’ll call you. You need to keep your phone on 24/7. Be ready whenever I call, you hear me?!” She was as bossy as ever. I played along. “Okay, okay, I will.” She was pleased. “Good girl. Good dog.” She still thought I was the same little puppy that followed her everywhere. She was wrong. 5 After that, Vanessa started talking to me a lot more. She told me she’d developed a new tactic: deliberately letting clients get handsy so she could squeeze more money out of them. Most guys would pay up to avoid a scene. She’d complain about one guy’s stinky feet, another’s body odor, all while swearing she’d quit as soon as she’d saved up enough. She would never quit. She would only sink deeper. A few days later, she sent me a cryptic message. “I’m about to become a millionaire’s wife.” “What?” “Can’t you read? Get ready to be the aunt of a trust-fund baby!” Sure enough, Vanessa soon had a boyfriend. She posted a picture on her socials—not of his face, but of his wrist. He had a tattoo of a pair of wings. I remembered my past life. Just before Vanessa pushed me, she’d shown me a picture Tanya had posted. The man in the picture had the same tattoo. I remembered it vividly. It seemed Vanessa was using her memories of the last life to get to him first. From this point on, her real nightmare was about to begin. 6 Vanessa’s new relationship seemed to be going smoothly. She arranged a dinner for her boyfriend to meet our parents. I told her I had to work that night, but she called my professor directly to get me out of it, then showed up in a luxury car to pick me up. I climbed in, my face flushing with embarrassment. I finally saw him, the man with the wings tattoo—Ethan. He was handsome in a polished way, wearing glasses that he pushed up his nose, revealing a shrewdness in his eyes that sent a chill down my spine. “So you’re the little sister in grad school,” he said, his voice smooth. “That’s impressive. We should talk about some business ventures sometime.” Vanessa narrowed her eyes, feigning jealousy. “Ethan, this is my sister. Are you trying to get a two-for-one deal?” Ethan just smirked. “Of course not.” I listened to their shameless flirting, feeling sick to my stomach. That, combined with the overpowering cologne in the stuffy car, made me gag. Vanessa whipped her head around, her eyes wide with excitement. “Are you pregnant? How far along? Who’s the father? Is he rich?” My face darkened. “I’m carsick.” “Ugh, boring.” The dinner was certainly interesting. The food was good, and the entertainment was even better. I got a front-row seat to watch my parents fawn all over Ethan like he was a king. As soon as I finished eating, I faked a phone call and made my escape. 7 Vanessa got richer. She moved out of our parents’ house and into Ethan’s villa. When she tried to quit her job, Ethan wouldn’t let her. He kissed her earlobe and whispered, “Baby, I can support you, of course. But you need your own career. You’ll get bored at home, and I can’t be with you every second. I have to work. You’ll just sit around overthinking things, and that’s not good for our relationship.” Vanessa pouted. “But I’m so tired.” Ethan’s smile turned wicked. “Oh, my baby’s tired? Then let me take good care of you.” Lost in his sweet talk and buried under his affection, Vanessa forgot all about quitting. Soon after, she was pregnant. She was overjoyed. First, it meant she could finally stop working. Second, she was carrying the heir to the ‘family fortune.’ Her dream of being a wealthy wife was within reach. Drunk on her success, she took the positive pregnancy test and went straight to her friend, Tanya. Tanya smiled brightly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Congratulations! You’re so lucky, I’m honestly so jealous. Does your fiancé have any single friends? You should introduce me.” Vanessa sneered, her face a mask of contempt. “Introduce you? Take a good look in the mirror. You think you’re worthy?” “You can only dream of being me,” she spat, then turned and strutted away, triumphant. She had avenged herself for the humiliation Tanya had inflicted on her in their past life after Tanya had gotten with Ethan. She felt on top of the world. Vanessa didn’t see the small, relieved smile that played on Tanya’s lips as she watched her go. 8 Vanessa came to my university, but she didn’t come to see me. She went straight to my professor’s office and brazenly demanded that I be withdrawn from my program. I only found out when my professor called me. I sprinted to his office. From down the hall, I could hear her shouting. “I’m pregnant now! If you don’t do what I say, you’ll regret it!” “My sister is dropping out to come take care of me! I’ll pay her fifty thousand a month. Can you do that? Can her boss pay her that much after she graduates? “Just process the withdrawal papers!” I rushed in, breathless, and managed to calm her down by reminding her that stress was bad for the baby in the first trimester. I promised her I would drop out, and she finally left. I went back and apologized profusely to my professor, who was thankfully very understanding. Of course, I didn’t drop out. Vanessa called me an ungrateful, spineless loser. “If your brother-in-law wasn’t here with me, I’d make you pay.” The two of them were disgustingly lovey-dovey. Vanessa’s social media was flooded with posts about how attentive Ethan was, how obsessed he was with her body. “Ugh, I can’t take it anymore, but he just wants more, and that gets me going too.” “I’m so worried, doing this in the first trimester.” Time passed, and Vanessa entered her second trimester, her belly starting to show. She posted: “Finally in the second trimester! Now we can really go at it.” Some people in the comments warned her to be careful. Others shamed her for not thinking of the baby. A few crassly asked if her husband was home at night. Then one evening, I got a sudden message from Tanya. “Tonight, do not answer your sister’s phone calls.” I stared at the message, about to reply, when another one came through. “If you don’t want to die, turn your phone off.” At that exact moment, my phone started ringing. It was Vanessa. I answered it.

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One second, my online girlfriend had just sent me $5,200. Her voice was sweet and soft. “Anything you want, baby. Just buy it.” The next second, a stunningly beautiful woman swept my legs out from under me, and I landed flat on my face. Her eyes were filled with disgust, her voice cold enough to freeze hell over. “Get out. Don’t even think about touching me. I have a boyfriend.” Holy crap. I thought I was about to meet my maker. 1 The moment the plane landed, my phone exploded with messages. Baby, why aren’t you answering? Talk to me, please don’t ignore me. I smiled at the GIF of a fluffy kitten rubbing its face against the screen. My heart melted. I’m here, babe! Just landed in Westport! I replied, dropping a pin of my location. Almost instantly, a voice message came through. Her sweet voice was laced with a mix of concern and adoration. “Baby, why did you come by yourself? I was going to pick you up tomorrow. Was the flight exhausting?” “I wanted to surprise you,” I cooed back. “And I know you’re busy with work.” Hearing her chuckle on the other end made my ears burn. A second later, a notification chimed. Ten thousand dollars has been deposited into your account. “Buy whatever you want,” she said. “Don’t you dare try to save my money.” I loved it when she played the bossy rich girl. This was my online girlfriend. We met on an international social media app. She’d teased me for eating instant noodles every day, and we just clicked. I’m an art student, and one time I casually complained about how expensive and hard to find good supplies were overseas. Less than a week later, a complete set of top-of-the-line, imported art materials arrived at my door. I’m scared of the dark, so every night she’d call and tell me stories in a soft, gentle voice until my breathing evened out and I was just about to fall asleep. My heart was bursting with pink, fluffy clouds as I dragged my suitcase to the new boutique hotel my sister, Barb, had just opened. The front desk manager recognized me and handed me a keycard with a smile. “Mr. Chen, your sister left instructions. This is for the penthouse suite. Please, go on up and get some rest.” I was too giddy about finally meeting my girlfriend to pay much attention. I grabbed the card and headed for the top floor. Now that school was out, I was back in the country, ready to meet the sweet, adorable girl I’d fallen for. The door beeped open. I tossed my suitcase inside, but before I could even take in the ocean view I’d been dreaming of, the door behind me was pushed open again. I assumed it was my sister. Grinning, I turned to jump into her arms. “Barb!” The hug I expected never came. My wrist was seized in an iron grip. A sharp, skillful force hit my ankle, and my world spun. A gasp caught in my throat. Thump. I landed hard, face-first on the plush carpet. “Huh?” I was completely dazed. I looked up, tears welling in my eyes. A tall woman, at least five-foot-nine, stood over me in a simple black dress. She looked down at me with cold, sharp eyes. Her face was stunningly beautiful, in an aggressive, “don’t mess with me” kind of way. “Get out,” she said, her voice laced with a lethal dose of contempt. “Who gave you the nerve to try and climb into my bed?” My head was spinning. “Who are you? This is my room!” “Your room?” She laughed as if it were the funniest joke she’d ever heard. Just then, Barb burst in, stopping dead when she saw me on the floor and the goddess of death standing over me. “Barb!” I scrambled behind her like she was my savior. “She pushed me! Avenge me!” Barb shielded me, giving the woman an awkward smile. “Hera, it’s a misunderstanding! This is my little brother, Leo! This is Hera, a… a good friend.” I clung to Barb’s arm. “The front desk said this was my room!” Barb smacked her forehead. “Oh, you little disaster! The front desk messed up. Your room is next door. I have your keycard!” She pulled out another keycard. I looked at the card in her hand, then at the one I’d used to open this room, and my brain short-circuited. I found out later that because it was peak season, Barb had last-minute given the penthouse to her VIP guest, Hera. She’d told the front desk to “put my brother next door,” but in the rush, they’d never updated the system and gave me the master keycard for the suite. Barb dragged me out of the room, her heart still pounding. “Leo, for the love of God, do not mess with her. That’s Hera Seimetz, of the Westport Seimetzs. She’s rich, powerful, and has a temper that could curdle milk. She’s been raised to take over the family empire, and she’s like this with everyone. Pissing her off is like kicking a hornets’ nest.” I rubbed my sore knee. “So what if she decides to come after me?” Barb sighed, then rolled her eyes at my hopeful expression. “What, you want me to be your human shield? Not a chance.” But seeing my reddened knee, she stuck her chin out. “But if she really tried to hurt you, I’d… I’d definitely have a word with her!” Then she muttered, “You’re lucky, though. She’s been in an online relationship recently. Spends all day giggling at her phone. She probably doesn’t have time to deal with you.” I thought of my own gentle, sweet girlfriend. Thank God my girl was nothing like this Hera. 2 That evening, Barb hosted a dinner to welcome Hera and to help me recover from the shock. The private room was filled with a few other impeccably dressed young women, and the conversation revolved around “mergers” and “valuations.” The atmosphere was tense. I shrank in my seat, trying to be invisible. Hera sat at the head of the table, looking distracted, her long fingers constantly tapping her phone. I snuck a glance at her. Her voice sounded vaguely familiar, like my girlfriend’s, but mine was much softer, sweeter. Thinking of her made me miss her. I instinctively reached for my pocket. Empty. Where was my phone? Barb called it for me. A familiar ringtone echoed from… Hera’s room next door. I swallowed hard. “I think I left my phone in her room.” We had just stepped out of the private room when we ran into Hera, who was returning from a call. Barb quickly explained. Hera’s icy gaze swept over me. “Don’t think you can get my attention with such a pathetic excuse. I have a man.” What kind of man would be into a woman this intense? Blood rushed to my head. I forced down my anger and stepped forward with a sycophantic smile. “I’m so sorry, it was my mistake. Could you please just open the door? I’ll grab my phone and be right out of your way.” She snorted but reluctantly swiped her card and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. I hurried in and spotted my phone on the coffee table. As I picked it up, my eyes fell on her open laptop. The chat window at the top of the screen had a familiar username. The last message was the “goodnight” GIF I’d sent last night. My world tilted. I grabbed my phone and fled. The screen was lit up with dozens of missed calls and unread messages. The latest notification was from ‘My Darling Wife.’ On impulse, I answered. “Hello, baby.” At the exact same moment, an identical, anxious voice came from behind me. “Baby, why did you finally answer? You scared me to death.” I froze, my blood turning to ice. The voice on the phone continued, “Sweetheart? Why aren’t you talking? Where are you? I’ll come find you.” My mind was a complete blank. I stumbled back to my own room, my voice trembling. “No, it’s nothing. I’m just not feeling well. I’m going to sleep.” “Where are you? I’m coming over.” The voice on the phone and the voice at the door synced up again. “Don’t!” My heart was hammering against my ribs. “It’s nothing! Just jet lag! I’ll be fine after some sleep!” I hung up before she could say another word and sent a quick “goodnight” GIF. I was so screwed. This terrifying, aggressive woman who’d sent me flying was the same sweet, gentle girl who’d lulled me to sleep, patiently tutored me, and sent me money without a second thought? My perfect online girlfriend?! My world was ending. 3 I barely slept a wink. The next morning, I finally forced myself to open our chat. A new flood of messages from Hera had come in. Baby, are you awake? Please talk to me. Did I do something wrong? We can talk about it. Above that was a long, rambling apology, explaining how some random guy had barged into her room yesterday and she’d pushed him away. She emphasized that she was a “woman of virtue,” “chaste and pure as the driven snow.” At the very top was another ten-thousand-dollar transfer, with the note: If you’re not feeling well, go to the doctor. Don’t suffer in silence. My feelings were a tangled mess. It was true she’d maintained her “virtue” when she didn’t know who I was, but she’d been so rough, and that fall had hurt. And seeing how cold she was in person, I knew a real-life relationship was doomed. I could already imagine her scathing insults and vicious sneer when she found out it was me. No way. I could not let her find out. If I couldn’t beat her in real life, I could at least break her heart online. I changed into a white casual suit, found Barb, and took a selfie with my arm around her, making sure only our shoulders and arms were visible against a blurred background. Then I sent it to my online girlfriend. Sorry. My ex came to find me, and we got back together. Let’s cancel our meeting tomorrow. I wish you all the best. After sending it, I looked at the ten-thousand-dollar transfer, accepted the money, then blocked and deleted her. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine! She could afford it. It was a dirty move, but it would be effective. Goodbye, my online love. What a disaster. 4 I put on my jacket and swaggered out the door. As I opened it, I saw Hera standing across the hall, looking utterly devastated. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were red, and a dark cloud of gloom hung around her. I felt a pang of guilt and quickly looked down, trying to slip away unnoticed. She didn’t seem to see me. She closed her door, and I heard a dull thud from inside, like something falling. My heart lurched. She wasn’t going to do something stupid, was she? I immediately called Barb. Barb rushed over and swiped her keycard. I peeked around the doorframe. Hera was sitting on the carpet, leaning against the sofa. Her long hair was disheveled, her arms hung limply at her sides, and her expression was one of pure despair. An overturned glass and a puddle of water were next to her. There was a smear of blood on her fingertips, probably from a shard of glass. Her phone screen was still on, stuck on our chat history. Barb was frantic. “Hera! What are you doing? It’s too early to be this dramatic! Did your online boyfriend dump you?” Hera’s body stiffened, and the atmosphere grew even heavier. Barb was heartbroken for her. “I told you online dating was a bad idea! He was probably some creepy old man trying to scam you.” You’re the creepy old man! Your whole family… wait, you’re the only creepy old man in your family! “He’s not!” Hera’s reaction was explosive. She grabbed Barb’s collar, her eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare talk about him like that! He’s the most handsome, most adorable little prince in the entire world!” She let go and slumped back against the sofa, her voice thick with emotion. “He must have had a good reason to lie to me… He wasn’t feeling well yesterday, and today he breaks up with me… It must be something he can’t handle on his own…” Hiding by the door, my heart softened into a puddle. Even after being “cheated on,” she was still making excuses for me. Barb had a sudden epiphany. “I get it! He must have a terminal illness and doesn’t want to be a burden, so he made up a story to push you away! It’s just like in the movies!” Hera’s eyes lit up for a second, then quickly dimmed, replaced by panic. “No, I have to find him. Barb, I don’t care what it takes. I want all his information. Now! Immediately!” I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Both of them turned to look at me. I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Um, Hera, do you even know his name?” Hera froze, her face flushing with embarrassment. “No… We met on an overseas app. I just know he’s studying abroad.” “Do you know what he looks like?” Hera looked even more ashamed. “He only ever sent one picture of his back… But I know he’s the most beautiful boy in the world.” I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Thank God I never sent a picture of my face. “So you know nothing about him. How are you going to find him?” I shrugged. “Besides, maybe he was just playing around.” She shot me a death glare, then turned to Barb. “I really, really want to throw your brother out a window.” Barb quickly pushed me away. “Go on, little man, stop causing trouble. Go find your friends.” Great. Kicked out again. That little bit of guilt vanished into thin air. 5 I spent the day hanging out with my friends, but there was still an empty feeling in my stomach. I probably just hadn’t eaten enough. That night, I decided to guilt-trip my sister into buying me dinner. When I called, the sound of blaring music nearly deafened me. “Leo! I’m at a bar with Hera! She’s heartbroken, clinging to a bottle like it’s a life raft.” “I was hoping some cute guy would hit on her and cheer her up, but when a guy from the next table tried, she just flashed her phone screen at him and said, ‘I have a boyfriend, leave me alone.’ Tsk, talk about loyal!” I hesitated for a moment, then headed over. Hera was sitting alone in a corner booth, surrounded by empty bottles. Her face was flushed, her eyes unfocused, and she was mindlessly stroking the picture on her lock screen. My heart was in my throat. She drunkenly stood up, grabbed a bottle, and stumbled toward the exit. I instinctively reached out and caught her. As we got closer, the strong smell of alcohol mixed with the scent of gardenias filled the air. She tried to push me away, her voice slurring. “Get off! Don’t touch me!” The movement was so forceful it pulled my jacket zipper down. I lost my temper. “Fine! Only a blind person would fall for a psycho like you anyway!” I turned to leave, fuming. My jacket was open, revealing the white casual suit underneath. Time stood still. Hera’s gaze traveled up from my chest and locked onto my face. Her expression shifted rapidly from confusion to shock to disbelief. She stared at me for a long time, her voice hoarse. “I should have known it was you.” My mind went blank. Crap! Busted! My reflexes took over. I pointed behind her. “Look, a UFO!” Then I turned and ran for my life.

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At the International Robotics Symposium, I was in the middle of presenting my latest theory when a woman’s arrogant voice cut through the auditorium. “You’re seriously still talking about this outdated theory? Allow me to show you all what cutting-edge technology actually looks like.” With her chin held high, she unveiled her own robot, proudly displaying a list of its extraordinary parameters. “The championship for this event,” she declared with absolute confidence, “belongs to me.” A wave of excitement rippled through the judges’ panel. “Incredible! This is phenomenal, it’s a full generation ahead of current tech!” But as I stared at the parameters, a cold knot formed in my stomach. This was my data. Every last number was from my experiments. Besides me, the only person with access to that data was my husband, Danny. I stepped forward, pointing at the machine. “The data is impressive,” I said, my voice steady. “But are you certain this is your robot?” She shot me a disdainful look. “Whose else would it be? Yours? Go on, call its name. See if it answers.” A small smile touched my lips as my gaze fell upon the robot. “Jenna. Kick the person in front of you.” … Laughter erupted from the audience. People shook their heads, looking at me with pity. “That’s Dr. Vance’s robot. Whose work could it be but hers?” “Just because your theory can’t compete doesn’t mean you can start making baseless accusations. It’s unprofessional.” Dr. Isla Vance’s eyes glinted with mockery. “My robot utilizes the very latest in AI technology. It’s not some simple—” Her words were cut short as the gleaming metallic robot lifted its leg and kicked her squarely in the hip. It happened so fast she had no time to react. With a cry of pain, she stumbled back, clutching her side. The audience of experts, scholars, and tech executives fell silent, their faces a mask of collective shock. After delivering the kick, the robot’s electronic face displayed a bracketed smiley face. Its synthesized voice rang out, filled with pride. “Jenna, mission complete!” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Good girl, Jenna.” The curve of the smiley face on its screen deepened. I turned my gaze back to Isla, my expression turning to ice. “This is the latest prototype from my lab—a domestic security and combat hybrid. It’s still in the development phase. So why don’t you tell me how it ended up with you?” The experts who had been praising her a moment ago now turned to her with suspicion. “Yes, Dr. Vance, what is going on here?” Isla’s face hardened. In a fit of pique, she kicked the robot’s leg. “Useless piece of junk. Can’t even recognize its own master.” “Jenna is not a useless piece of junk,” the robot retorted, its voice tinged with a synthetic sadness. Isla took a step closer, studying my face for a moment before addressing the crowd. “The robot is currently in an open-command state. Anyone who calls its name can issue a command. I simply forgot to disable it.” She then glared at me, a sneer twisting her lips. “You must have found that out from somewhere and came here to slander me. If you don’t believe me, feel free to try calling its name yourselves.” As she spoke, she produced a contract, holding it up for all to see. The document clearly stated an agreement between Apex Innovations Lab and Nexus Dynamics for the joint development of an intelligent robot. Isla’s chin lifted in triumph. “I am the head of Apex Innovations! The contract is right here. Is there any doubt?” A bomb went off in my head. Only Danny and I had ever handled that contract. For years, I had poured my heart and soul into AI research, giving the patents to Nexus Dynamics for free. That was how Danny had become a tech mogul in less than five years. He’d said we would conquer the world of robotics together, as husband and wife. And now? He was letting another woman steal my work, usurp my identity, and bask in the glory that was rightfully mine. Rage ignited in my chest. The murmuring in the crowd grew louder. “No one would dare to fake a contract with Nexus Dynamics,” someone said. “They’re a giant in the industry. It has to be real. It seems Dr. Vance is telling the truth.” Disapproving glances were once again cast in my direction. My fingers trembled, but I pressed on, demanding of Isla, “Where did you get that contract? Did Danny give it to you?” Isla scoffed. “I was trying to be modest, but since you’ve forced my hand, I might as well tell everyone. I am Danny Croft’s wife. We’re a team. I focus on the research, and he runs the company.” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. If what she said was true, then who was I? I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled out my phone and dialed Danny’s number. “Danny,” I said, my voice clear and strong, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. “I hear you have a wife named Isla Vance. Why don’t you tell me when you two got married?” On the other end, Danny’s voice was sharp with annoyance. “What nonsense are you talking about?” He hung up. Isla smirked and pointed a finger at me. “So that’s your game. You stage this whole drama just to try and seduce my husband? You’re that desperate to be the other woman?” “You get his number from some back-alley source and put on this pathetic act.” The educated crowd turned on me. “Utterly shameless!” one man declared. “She has no integrity!” “If you don’t even know how to be a decent human being, what business do you have in academia?” another added. In an instant, I was the enemy. But the initial fire of my anger had cooled, replaced by a terrifying calm. I glanced at my watch. Thirty seconds to go. I looked up at Isla. Her eyes were filled with derision and hate, but I let a slow smile spread across my face. “You claim this is your robot? And you’re presenting it here today, which must mean it’s passed all performance tests? There won’t be any… issues?” She nodded, her voice dripping with arrogance. “Of course. What, are you still not giving up, you little home-wrecker? Take a look in the mirror.” “This robot is the pinnacle of modern technology. What would you know about it?” “You’re nothing but an academic fraud, here to hunt for a rich man.” I just smiled and offered a piece of friendly advice to those standing near me. “I suggest everyone take a step back. You wouldn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.” My cryptic warning was met with confused and disgusted glares. “Why are you still here making a spectacle of yourself? Just leave already.” “At this point, you should just crawl away in shame.” Such stubborn people. Well, they couldn’t say I didn’t warn them. They were still shaking their heads at me when a series of sharp cries and yelps echoed through the hall. Jenna, who had been standing motionless, had suddenly switched into combat mode. A fighting machine by design, it was now wreaking havoc, attacking anyone and everyone that entered its visual field. Jenna was a prototype, and she had a fatal flaw: if left on standby for more than thirty minutes, her programming would glitch, causing her to attack indiscriminately. It was the very reason I hadn’t unveiled her at this conference. Screams filled the air. These were solid steel limbs meeting flesh and bone. The one who got the worst of it was Isla. Standing closest to the robot, she was knocked to the ground, her face contorted in pain and fury. “Jenna, stop! I command you to stop!” Panic erupted. The robot was a whirlwind of controlled violence, as effective as a special forces soldier. “Someone do something! People are getting hurt!” people shouted. The very individuals who had been bad-mouthing me were now being tossed around like dolls. I couldn’t help but give Jenna a silent thumbs-up. I had already retreated to a safe distance, and now I watched the show with my arms crossed. “But this is Dr. Vance’s robot,” I called out. “Did everyone forget what she said? It’s supposed to be flawless. I’m sure Dr. Vance has it under control.” All eyes turned to Isla, who was scrambling to avoid the robot’s attacks. It certainly didn’t look like she had anything under control. Was this really her creation? The chaos raged for several minutes before a flurry of footsteps announced a new arrival. I turned to see Danny striding in with a team of security guards. He took in the scene with a frown and ordered his men to disable Jenna. It took a dozen trained guards to overpower the robot and finally shut it down. Isla, bruised, disheveled, and humiliated, ran to Danny and threw herself into his arms. “Honey, that woman sabotaged everything! She attacked me! You have to teach her a lesson!” Danny followed her pointing finger, his dark eyes landing on me. My own gaze was like ice. I stared right back at him. “In such a hurry to protect your little mistress, Danny? Why don’t you tell everyone who the real head of the lab is? Who the lead developer of that robot is?” “And who was it that turned your company into a tech giant in just five years?!” Forgetting your roots is a sin that always comes back to bite you. A vein throbbed in Danny’s forehead. He maintained his protective stance over Isla, a cold, cruel smile playing on his lips. “Ma’am, I believe we’ve met. You’re the one who threw yourself at me, trying to sleep your way into my company. And now you come here to ruin my wife’s big day? You have a lot of nerve, thinking you can mess with me.” His words sent another shockwave through the room. Danny had a pristine reputation in the industry. Compared to me, a reclusive researcher who rarely made public appearances, his words carried far more weight. “That woman is disgusting!” “So she tried to seduce the husband, failed, and now she’s taking it out on the wife!” I understood everything now. Danny had betrayed me long ago. Seeing the crowd turn on me, a smug, triumphant smirk flickered across his face. My five years of devotion had been wasted on a monster. All the love and affection had been a lie. “And how do you explain the robot’s rampage?” I asked calmly. “Has everyone forgotten? Who’s the one lying now?” Isla, having regained some of her composure, stuck her neck out. “It was a minor glitch. You probably did something to it.” The crowd was divided. Some believed Danny, while others looked at Isla with renewed doubt. How could a developer not know about such a glaring flaw in her own creation? Suddenly, the event organizer’s phone rang. After a brief conversation, his face lit up.

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On our anniversary, I decided to give our marriage one last chance. The waiter had checked on my table again and again. The restaurant was about to close when Claire finally remembered to text me: [Emergency meeting at the office. Don’t wait up, get dinner without me.] A moment later, I saw a new post from her male assistant, Leo, on my Instagram feed. In the photo, Claire had her jacket off, a smear of cream on her cheek, sharing a single slice of cake with him. The caption read: [Here’s to many more.] Suddenly, the whole thing felt pointless. I liked the post, paid the bill, and headed home. My phone buzzed relentlessly on the walk, but I ignored it. Carrying the takeout box, I strolled leisurely down the familiar streets. Finally, she left a voicemail. “Ethan, I’ll explain when I get home. Don’t overthink this. We’ll have plenty more anniversaries to celebrate.” I didn’t reply. I just quietly opened my briefcase. Plenty more? I thought today might be the day I could convince myself not to leave. It seems I don’t have to anymore. It’s time for a divorce. 1 Claire didn’t come home until the next day. When she walked in, I was directing movers as they carried furniture out of the house. She looked startled. “You finally agreed to move?” I didn’t even look up. “Careful with that corner,” I told the movers, then answered her offhandedly, “Yeah. I got tired of this place.” Eight years together, five years married. I should have gotten tired of it long ago. Claire stared in disbelief. It made sense; just last week, when she suggested moving to the upscale Riverside Estates villas closer to her office, I was the one who insisted this house held eight years of our memories, refusing to even consider it. But now, here I was, packing everything up myself. She was quiet for a moment, then murmured to herself, “Well, moving today works. The new place is already decorated to your taste anyway.” She didn’t ask where I was moving. She just assumed it was to Riverside Estates—the place she wanted. It wasn’t just closer to her office, after all. It was closer to Leo. So I didn’t bother telling her it wasn’t our house that was moving. It was me. As the last large piece of furniture was carried out, Claire looked around the newly spacious, strangely empty rooms, a rare look of unease on her face. After a moment of silence, she pulled a brand-new photo frame from her purse and handed it to me. “A new home for a new beginning. You can put a picture of us in this.” I turned, my eyes landing on the frame. It was a simple, pinewood frame, with four words engraved at the bottom: Moonlit Pines. Ah. The restaurant where she’d celebrated Leo’s birthday last night. It seemed she’d spent quite a bit for them to have gifted her some custom merchandise. I forced a smile and set it on the coffee table. “Thanks.” She froze. “That’s it? That’s your only reaction? You don’t have anything else to say?” I paused, then a memory of Leo’s photo surfaced in my mind—of Claire’s perfectly flat stomach. My voice came out raspy, barely a whisper. “You should tell him not to take you for sushi anymore. It’s not good for you, especially after the miscarriage.” The doctor had been clear: no raw or cold foods after losing the baby. If Claire was going to be with Leo, she should at least remind him to be more careful. Not like me. I didn’t say that last part out loud, but something must have clicked for Claire. Her face instantly darkened, and her voice turned to ice. “Ethan, can you stop being so dramatic?” I’d lost count of how many times she’d said that to me since she lost the baby at the beginning of the year. All I remember is that it was a baby that had already started to kick. A baby we lost because Claire insisted on drinking the chicken soup Leo had brought for her. Just the day before, I had felt it move. In the blink of an eye, it was all just blood and pain. And the cruelest joke? She blamed me. “Ethan, would it have killed you to just stop me?” I wanted to die, too. I wanted to die when I remembered how I had tried to stop her, over and over, only to be accused of jealousy and given the silent treatment, called a madman. I wanted to die when, after she lost the baby, everyone pointed their fingers not at Leo, but at me, their accusations pushing me into a deep, dark depression. I wanted to die when, after the baby was gone, I was busy taking care of her in the hospital, only to walk in on her comforting Leo, telling him, “It’s okay, I didn’t want to have it anyway.” I’d wanted to die so many times. The scars on my arms, the pills in my drawer, the wilting orchid on the windowsill—they were all witnesses to my despair. For the last 264 days, I’ve hovered between life and death. But I made it out. Yesterday, our anniversary, was meant to be one final farewell to the man I used to be. Claire, however, made the choice for me. I shrugged and pulled out the divorce papers I’d had drawn up weeks ago, holding them out to her. “Sign it.” Claire frowned, looking at me with suspicion. “What is this?” I never got the chance to answer. Before Claire could sign, her phone rang. It was Leo. “Claire, I think I twisted my ankle! Can you come take me to the hospital…?” His voice was strong and clear over the phone, not sounding like he was in any pain at all. But Claire was already in a panic. “I’ll be right back to talk about this,” she tossed over her shoulder as she rushed out the door. Watching her leave, I was suddenly reminded of the time I was the one who got hurt. She wasn’t home. I’d woken up in the middle of the night, thirsty, and on my way downstairs for a glass of water, I slipped and fell. I lay there on the cold floor, pain shooting through my leg, and called her. The line connected, but the background was a cacophony of laughter and clinking glasses. She was at a dinner party. “Claire, I fell down the stairs. I can’t move. Can you… can you come home and take me to the hospital?” “Hey, man, Claire’s had a bit too much to drink. She just passed out next to me. Maybe call back later?” It was Leo’s voice, smugness laced with mockery. I froze. “Could you… please… wake her up for me?” I heard my own voice, stuttering and broken. How pathetic. Asking another man to wake up my wife. I don’t know if he ever did. All I know is that my neighbor was the one who eventually found me and took me to the emergency room. When Claire finally showed up, she sat by my hospital bed, holding my hand, her nose red from crying. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone drinking with clients to close that deal. And I shouldn’t have let Leo help me back to the room just because I was too drunk to stand.” “But Ethan, you have to believe me,” she pleaded. “There’s nothing between us. We’re just colleagues.” “You’re the only one I love.” She looked at me with an earnestness that could move anyone. It was the same look she’d had when we were eighteen, when she found me bullied and beaten in a filthy bathroom stall. She had draped her coat over my shoulders and pulled me to my feet, her voice fierce. “Ethan, being bullied is not your fault.” “I’ll protect you from now on.” She broke her promise. Then, and now. Staring at the empty room, I let out a long breath and tucked the papers back into my briefcase. So annoying. I’d have to see her one more time. But that was fine. One more time was all it would take. As long as I never had to see her again after the divorce. That evening, I shipped off the last of my boxes and went out to say goodbye to my friends. They knew I was leaving the city and had thrown a farewell party for me. On the way to the party, I noticed something unusual. Crowds were gathered along the Harbor River, and event staff were weaving through the onlookers. BOOM! A cascade of fireworks erupted into the night sky, exploding in bursts of color so beautiful it was breathtaking. I pulled over, tilting my head back to admire the rare spectacle. Suddenly, I heard someone in the crowd say: “Wow, so beautiful. The heiress of the Sterling Group really goes all out to show her love.” “Yeah, her husband is one lucky guy, landing a woman like her.” The smile froze on my face. It slowly dawned on me that this grand display, this fireworks show, was from Claire. For Leo. A dull ache spread through my chest, but thankfully, the soul-crushing pain was gone. I shook my head and drove away from the river. My friends were waiting. I couldn’t be late. We went all out that night. Dinner, drinks, karaoke—the works. At one point, my best friend, Dylan, raised a glass to me, his eyes red. “Ethan, are you going to be okay? Will you be happy?” I smiled, clinked my glass against his, and downed it in one go. “Of course. From now on, every single day.” I was finally free. That night, neither Claire nor I went home. We ran into each other at the entrance to our building the next morning. She was still wearing yesterday’s clothes; my jacket reeked of alcohol. “You didn’t come home last night?” she asked, her eyes scanning me from head to toe, as if searching for something. I nodded. “Nope. I was out with Dylan and the guys.” At the mention of Dylan, the tension in her face visibly eased. “Just this once,” she said, her tone softening as she reached for my hand. “Don’t stay out all night again. I worry.” “It’s getting colder. Make sure you dress warm, you don’t want to catch a cold.” I shot her a strange look, pulled my hand away, and walked inside. Was she drunk? Spouting this nonsense so early in the morning just to piss me off. Claire followed me into the apartment. The moment we were inside, she seemed ready to lash out at me for pulling my hand away, but her eyes were involuntarily drawn to the changes around the room. The wedding portrait was gone from the wall. It had hung there for so long that it left a clean, white rectangle on the painted surface. The model kits she’d bought me for my birthday, which I had always treasured and displayed in the center of the bookshelf, had been moved. She pushed open the bedroom door. My clothes, my shoes, my laptop—all gone. A flicker of anxiety crossed her face. She turned to ask me something, but was met with the sight of me holding out a pen and a document. “Yesterday’s paperwork.” I tried to sound casual, but my eyes were fixed on her every move. “You were too busy worrying about Leo to sign it yesterday. Can you do it now?” The woman, who had been about to read the document, paused. A rare flash of guilt and remorse crossed her eyes, and she flipped straight to the last page. “Did you happen to pass by the river last night?” she asked, as if it were a casual thought. I hesitated for a second before shaking my head. “No, why?” I knew exactly why, but my denial seemed to bring her a wave of relief. Her voice became cheerful. “Oh, nothing. I just heard there was a fireworks show. I remember you love fireworks, so I was wondering if you saw it.” “I didn’t.” She picked up the pen to sign. “That’s such a shame. I was thinking of you, since you love them so much. I was planning to put on a show just for you.” I watched her hand, my breath so quiet it was almost silent. “I don’t like fireworks anymore.” “Then how about I take you to see the Northern Lights? You mentioned it once, on your birthday.” “Or maybe Japan? The view of Mount Fuji is supposed to be incredible. I still haven’t gotten you a gift for our fifth anniversary.” She signed the last letter of her name and looked up at me with a smile. Her eyes were so gentle, it was like we were eighteen again. I took the document from her, scanned it carefully, and a genuine smile spread across my face. “You’ve already given me the best gift I could ask for.” My smile seemed to catch her off guard. “I did? What did I give you?” she asked, thinking hard. “A car? A watch? Or is just having me here the best gift of all?” I shook my head at each suggestion. “None of those.” She raised an eyebrow. “Then what could it be?” I smiled and held up the document in my hand. “The divorce papers you just signed.” “Claire, I’m finally free of you.” Her smile froze on her face.

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1 I got home after midnight from a business trip to find my husband gone, but a woman’s blouse—not mine—lay on the sofa. When I called, he claimed to be working late. I asked directly about the blouse. “It’s a gift for you,” he said casually. “Try it on.” I held it up—it was a size too small. “Julian, I wear a Medium, not a Small.” As a fashion designer, he knew my size perfectly. After a brief pause, he explained, “I had one made for you and one for my sister. I must have mixed them up. I’ll swap it tomorrow.” He then softened, sounding tired: “Ellie, I’ve missed you so much.” Hearing his vulnerability, my heart softened—until I realized: my sister-in-law Diana wears the same size as me. … The blouse was exquisitely made; it certainly had the look of something Julian had designed himself. But the feel of the fabric under my fingertips sparked a fresh wave of doubt. Diana and I were practically body doubles—both of us solidly a size Medium. Could he really have gotten our sizes wrong? I dismissed the thought. It was impossible. Julian was a professional designer, and he was closer to us than anyone. How could he possibly make a size Small blouse for either of us? Unless… unless the blouse wasn’t made for me, or for Diana. Then who was it for? The question took root in my mind, wrapping around my thoughts like an invasive vine. I forced myself to calm down and opened the pet monitoring app on my phone. I’d been away for a month, and the one I worried about most was our cat. I’d installed cameras in the living room and bedroom specifically for that reason. I scrolled the timeline back to the day I left. Other than the cat sitter who came by every day to feed him and clean the litter box, no one else had entered the apartment. No visitors. It seemed I was overthinking things. Julian must have just been exhausted from work. I closed the app and tossed the blouse back on the sofa, determined to let it go. Maybe it was simple. Maybe I was just tired, my mind playing tricks on me. I took a quick shower and ended up falling asleep on the couch. I was startled awake by the sound of the front door opening early the next morning. Julian was back. His face was etched with fatigue. He froze for a second when he saw me. “Ellie? What are you doing sleeping on the sofa? You scared me.” He said it while taking off his shoes. “I wanted to surprise you.” I stood up and took his briefcase from him. “Have you had breakfast? I can make you some pasta.” “No, it’s fine. I ate at the office.” He stretched, rubbing his shoulder, and his eyes landed on the blouse. “Oh, right, the blouse. Did you try it on? Does it fit?” I watched him in silence for a few seconds before asking, trying to sound casual, “I was just thinking, isn’t Diana about the same size as me? Since when does she wear a Small?” Julian’s smile froze. That brief, almost imperceptible pause made my heart sink all over again. “Ah…” He let out a long sigh, his voice dropping. “You’ve been gone for a month, you haven’t had a chance to check in on family.” “Diana… she got really sick a while back. She was in the hospital for over two weeks, lost a shocking amount of weight.” “I’ve been buried in work at the office, and then I’ve had to go straight to the hospital to take care of her after. I’m completely drained.” “I must have measured her then, and my brain just short-circuited and remembered the wrong size. I figured since you two were similar, I just brought yours home when they were both done.” As he spoke, his voice grew thick with emotion. My heart twisted. Guilt washed over me, drowning out all my suspicions. I’d been gone a month, and as her sister-in-law, I hadn’t even called her once. She had been so sick, and I knew nothing about it. Instead, I was here, letting a single piece of clothing turn me into a paranoid wreck. What kind of wife was I? “I’m so sorry, Julian. That’s my fault,” I apologized immediately. “I didn’t know Diana was sick. I’ll go with you to see her tomorrow.” “It’s okay. You were busy with work,” Julian’s voice softened again. “I’m just… I’m exhausted, a little emotional. You should get some sleep. I’m going to take a shower.” Watching his back as he walked into the bathroom, I was a mess of conflicting emotions. I hoped, I really hoped, that I was just overthinking things. The next morning, Julian drove me to the hospital. When he pushed open the door to Diana’s room, I was genuinely shocked. The woman in the bed looked like a shadow of her former self. She was so thin. “Ellie, you’re back,” she said, offering a weak smile. My guilt hit its peak. I walked over, patted her shoulder, and slipped a thick envelope I’d prepared for her into her hand. “You silly girl, why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” “Just focus on getting better. Anything you’re craving, you let me know.” Diana grinned. “You’re the best, Ellie.” Seeing how her hospital gown hung off her frail frame, I felt a fresh wave of shame for my suspicions the night before. A size Small would probably be loose on her now. I finally let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Just then, Julian’s phone rang. He stepped into the hallway to answer it. I faintly heard him say, “Got it, I’ll handle it right away,” before he hung up. “Who was that?” I asked casually. “Trouble at the office?” Julian came back in, gathering his things. “My new assistant. Just a small work thing.” Something inside me clenched. I remembered Julian’s assistant. A steady, middle-aged man. But the voice I’d just overheard on the phone was clearly that of a young woman. My heart was in my throat again, but I kept my face neutral. “You got a new assistant? I thought Mark was doing a great job.” “Oh, right. You know how the company is launching a womenswear line,” Julian explained, his tone completely natural. “I thought it would be a good idea to hire a female assistant. She used to be a model, so she knows the market.” “You were away last month, and then Diana got sick. She stepped in to help, and she’s been great for trying on the samples.” He finished with a playful smirk. “What, are you jealous? If you’re not happy about it, I’ll let her go right now.” He’d put me on the spot. If I pushed any further, I’d look petty and insecure. “No, of course not,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s for work. I get it.” But even as I said the words, the thorn of suspicion lodged itself deeper in my heart. That afternoon, I made an excuse to visit Julian’s company, using my position as an investor to conduct a “site visit.” The moment I walked into the design department, I saw her. The new assistant. Young, beautiful, tall, and radiating a vibrant, youthful energy. A few of the senior staff saw me and greeted me warmly. “Ms. Vance, what a nice surprise!” I smiled and nodded, making small talk. “How’s everything going lately? I hear you’ve brought on a new beauty of an assistant for the womenswear line?” One of the lead designers, a woman named Carol, immediately chimed in. “Oh yes, Ms. Vance. Jenna is a real gem. She’s been a huge help to Mr. Crawford.” “And with a figure like that, she’s a walking mannequin,” another designer added. “She’s been trying on most of the prototypes. It’s saved us a ton of time.” “Mr. Crawford has a sharp eye,” someone else agreed. “The efficiency of the new line has shot way up.” Their praise just made the knot in my stomach tighten. I smiled, walked into Julian’s office, and placed a small astronaut figurine on his desk. It had a well-hidden camera inside. Over the next few days, I checked the live feed whenever I had a spare moment. Everything seemed normal. Jenna rarely entered Julian’s private office. Most of their communication was over the internal phone line. On the few occasions she did go in to report on something, she stood formally in front of his desk and was out within five minutes. There was absolutely no inappropriate behavior between them. For a moment, I was ashamed of myself. Julian was a powerhouse CEO in public, but at home, he was thoughtful and always kept me in the loop about his schedule. His desk was covered in our wedding photos, with him standing on my left, smiling brightly. He called to check in whenever he had a free second. Was I really being too suspicious? Too insecure? But the matter of the blouse still haunted me. Would a designer with such a keen eye for size and detail really make a mistake like that? As the launch of the new line approached, Julian started working late more and more often, sometimes not getting home until one or two in the morning. He said they’d hit a creative roadblock with the new collection. I told him not to push himself so hard, but he just smiled and said it was fine. Then, another detail put me on high alert. The scent of his body wash had changed. At home, we’d always used a cedar-scented one. But for the past few days, he’d come home smelling of a sweet, cloying floral fragrance. When I asked him about it, he was dismissive. “They got a new one for the office breakroom. When I work late, I just shower there so I don’t wake you up coming home.” The excuse was flawless. But the unease in my gut was growing uncontrollably. It was another late night. Julian texted to say he might have to pull an all-nighter and that I should go to sleep. I tossed and turned in bed, unable to rest. On a whim, I opened the camera feed again. The lights in his office were on, but his chair was empty. I frowned and scrubbed back through the recording. Just a few minutes earlier, a figure had flashed past the camera, quickly disappearing into a blind spot in the inner part of the office. It was only for a split second, but I was certain of one thing: it wasn’t Julian. I shot out of bed, threw on some clothes, and poured the chicken soup I’d made into a thermos. Then I grabbed it and ran out the door. Fifteen minutes later, I was standing in front of his office building. On the entire floor, only his office was lit. My heart hammered against my ribs as I walked to his office door. It was unlocked. I pushed it open. The room was empty. How? I saw her go in! I searched the design department, the breakroom, the storage closet… every single place a person could hide. Nothing. No one. Panting, I returned to Julian’s office. Suddenly, I heard the faint sound of rustling fabric, mingled with a man’s stifled gasp. It seemed to be coming from the corner of the room. I tiptoed over, my footsteps silent. As I got closer, I saw a thin crack of light peeking from between a partition and the wall. A rush of blood went to my head. I yanked the partition away with all my strength. “Julian! What are you two doing?!” I screamed. Behind the partition was a small space, like a walk-in closet. Julian was standing there, staring at me in shock, his hand clutching the arm of a mannequin. There was no one else in the space. He looked at my furious expression, completely bewildered. “Ellie? What are you doing here?” I was past the point of reason. I started tearing through the small space, frantically searching. Julian finally snapped. “Eleanor, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Still finding no one, I pulled out my phone, played the video from the camera, and shoved it in his face. “Where is she? Where did you hide her?!” Julian’s eyes fell on the screen, and his face instantly darkened with rage. “You’re spying on me?” I was so fixated on the mysterious figure that I barely registered his reaction. “I asked you, where is the woman!” “Woman?” Julian let out a scornful laugh and pointed to a female mannequin. “You mean her?” He walked over to it and positioned it in roughly the same pose as the figure in the video. “I was just adjusting its silhouette. I had to move it around to get the right angle.” I froze. The outline of the mannequin… it did seem to match the silhouette from the video. Could it be? Had I really been wrong about him? My rational mind slowly began to resurface, and a chill spread through my limbs. I had doubted him, spied on him, and now I’d stormed in here, accusing him like a madwoman. “I… I’m sorry…” I pressed my forehead into my hand, my voice dry and hoarse. Julian stood with his back to me, his shoulders rigid. After a long silence, he finally turned around. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked utterly exhausted. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I know I’ve been working late a lot, neglecting you. It’s normal that your mind would run wild.” I was stunned. He was apologizing to me. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought my work stress home. I made you feel insecure.” He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight, his chin resting on the top of my head. “It’s true, we haven’t really talked in a long time.” “Why don’t you go home, take a shower, and wait for me? I’ll clean this up and be right home, okay?” His tenderness, his understanding, made my guilt crest into a tidal wave. What more could I say? I nodded and went home. But as I sat in the living room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still wrong. The thorn of suspicion hadn’t been removed; it felt like it had just been pushed in deeper. I took out my phone and watched the video clip over and over. Once, twice, ten times, twenty times… I slowed the playback speed to 0.5x, my eyes glued to the screen. And in one fleeting frame, I finally saw it. I saw what was wrong. Julian was definitely lying to me.

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1 Just before quitting time, the general manager’s wife suddenly dropped a PDF file into the company-wide work chat. [A Sterling Corp Intern Named Sienna Climbed the Ladder on Her Back, Shamelessly Playing the Other Woman] I opened it. It was filled with screenshots from my social media. Every post lined up perfectly with the general manager’s travel schedule. Her message was confident, accusatory: “He confessed everything to me yesterday. I suggest you give back every cent he spent on you.” Faced with what looked like irrefutable proof, the way my colleagues looked at me shifted. I froze. I couldn’t understand how I could be the target of a smear campaign like this, especially when I was working at my own family’s company. After all, if I said the word, she and her husband could be fired tomorrow for stepping into the office with the wrong foot. … Veronica pointed a scornful finger at me. “Mark and I have been married for years. We’re past the honeymoon phase. Just pay me back for the luxury goods and trips, every single penny, and I promise I won’t make a bigger scene about your little affair.” My colleagues shot furtive glances in my direction. My expression hardened. “Mrs. Hayes, are you prepared to stand by those accusations? The general manager and I don’t even have each other’s contact information.” Veronica let out a cold, impatient laugh. “Alright, that’s enough. I don’t need to hear the sordid details. I did the math. He’s spent about two hundred thousand on you recently. Just give me the money, and you two can do whatever you want.” She then turned to the rest of the office. “You all know I’m not an unreasonable person. I don’t go after people without cause. I wouldn’t be saying this if I didn’t have proof. But the girl is young, and I don’t want to embarrass her too much… Just keep things professional with Sienna. Don’t let our personal business get in the way.” Her speech was broadcast live to the company chat. Now, not only did everyone in the company know, but our clients did too. The general manager, Mark Hayes, walked over, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “What is all this? Making a scene in the office, stirring up trouble with your paranoia.” But Veronica wasn’t backing down. She pointed to a smudge of lipstick on his collar. “You have the nerve to lecture me? Look at this! You didn’t even bother to wipe off her lipstick. What, are you embarrassed now that your little darling is here?” Mark’s face darkened. He didn’t say a word, just grabbed Veronica by the arm and dragged her out of the office. His ambiguous silence only seemed to confirm the rumors. The next day, every female employee in the company received a designer handbag from Veronica. Except me. The excuse? “Better to reward my loyal team than let a homewrecker spend it.” And just like that, the entire office turned against me. I was completely ostracized. Colleagues I used to joke with moved their desks away, creating a dead zone around my workspace. The people I ate lunch with started leaving early, afraid I’d try to join them. By the time I finished my work, the office was always empty. My direct reports stopped responding to my messages. A project I was about to complete was snatched away and given to someone else. When I went to my team lead for an explanation, the usually friendly man just frowned and ignored me. The rumors were relentless. Everywhere I went, I was followed by hushed whispers. “I have to say, Veronica is being generous. A lot of women would have just fired the girl.” “So that’s how a fresh graduate landed two major accounts right off the bat… I guess she has her methods.” “Playing around like that… isn’t she afraid of catching something?” I had zero interest in being the rumored girlfriend of a middle-aged man with a beer belly. That afternoon, during a lull, I knocked on the general manager’s door. Mark was reviewing the quarterly reports. He didn’t look surprised to see me. “Sienna. I know why you’re here. And I do owe you an apology for this whole thing.” “My wife… she tends to speak her mind without thinking. She misunderstood our relationship.” I waited. He offered no solution, no plan to fix it. My eyes locked onto his. “And that’s it? She’s a grown woman. Does ‘speaking her mind’ just excuse everything?” Mark’s expression soured. “You’re just a kid. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? I said it was a misunderstanding. You haven’t lost anything. My wife is your superior, for all intents and purposes. Are you expecting an apology from her?” “Instead of dwelling on this, you should be focusing on improving your skills. You’re still an intern, you know. The company has no place for slackers.” I was so stunned I almost laughed. The same Mark Hayes who was so deferential and meek in front of my father was a completely different person in front of his employees. A petty tyrant on his little fiefdom. Before I could say another word, he ushered me out of his office. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. As I was walking away, I heard Veronica’s voice from inside. “Trash all of it! She thinks she can steal my man? I’ll show her what happens when you mess with me!” I shoved the office door open. My desk had been ransacked. My personal belongings and some files were scattered on the floor. The cute stuffed animal I kept on my desk had been torn to shreds. My colleagues, who had been gathered around, all turned to look at me, their faces a mixture of expressions. My face was a cold mask. “Did you do this?” No one answered. The office was dead silent. A woman named Lily, standing next to Veronica, stepped forward, her arms crossed. “So what if we did? A homewrecker like you deserves it. If we beat you, we’d be doing the world a favor.” Another colleague nodded in agreement. “Exactly. No wonder her social media is all trips and designer bags. She earned it on her back. What a disgrace to professional women.” “I told you, there is nothing going on between me and the general manager. I don’t need his money. Why would I sell myself to a fat, old man?” I tried to explain, but they weren’t listening. “What money could a recent graduate possibly have? When you interviewed, you were dressed so plainly. The minute you got hired, you started showing off designer bags. You must have seduced Mr. Hayes right from the start!” I couldn’t believe it. Even my interview attire was being used as a weapon against me. Lily, still at Veronica’s side, sneered. “Your profile says you’re a ‘new age woman’ inheriting the ‘family business.’ Is your family business being a professional mistress?” “It all makes sense now. I was wondering why someone with your credentials would choose a small company like ours. You had your sights set on Mr. Hayes all along.” The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife when the CEO’s executive assistant, Mr. Wu, suddenly walked in. He placed a gift box on my desk. Mr. Wu adjusted his glasses, his tone all business. “Ms. Sterling, Mr. Hayes asked me to give this to you as an apology. He hopes you won’t make a fuss over such a small matter and storm his office again.” I laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. It was obvious what was happening. Mark was using me as a shield, a decoy to protect his real mistress. And it worked. The moment she saw the gift, Veronica, who had been maintaining a thin veneer of civility, lost it. Her face contorted with rage. “Fine! So you’re not even trying to hide it anymore, you two degenerates!” Before I could say a word, Veronica lunged at me and slapped me hard across the face. “You bitch! I’ll teach you a lesson today!” My cheek stung, a fiery pain spreading across my skin. I clutched my face, my eyes darting around the room, only to be met with the mocking stares of my colleagues. When I decided to go undercover at my own family’s subsidiary, I had prepared myself for being scapegoated, for being ostracized, even for workplace harassment. But I did it to prove to my father that I had what it takes to be his successor. I chose to start from the bottom, to earn my place. I never imagined that in my own company, I would not only be the subject of a vicious smear campaign, but I would also be physically assaulted. I raised my hand to strike back. Lily immediately jumped in, grabbing my arm and shouting, “Oh my God! She’s the other woman, and she has the nerve to hit the wife! Do you have no shame?” The other employees, not knowing the full story, started chiming in. “How arrogant! She really thinks she’s the favored concubine.” “I can’t believe it. She seemed so nice.” “All that talk before… I actually thought she was innocent!” Mark walked in to see Lily shielding Veronica, holding my upraised arm. Without a moment’s hesitation, he shoved me away. “What’s all this commotion? Sienna, this is a workplace. You will follow the rules.” I stumbled and fell, my head cracking against the sharp corner of a desk. A searing pain shot through my skull, and warm blood trickled down my face, past my eye. I looked up at Mark, who was now holding Veronica in his arms, and a cold, bitter smile touched my lips. “You will regret this.” “Regret it?” Mark laughed. “I’d like to see how an intern makes me regret anything.” Veronica clung to Mark’s arm, pouting. “Honey, she almost hit me. You have to defend me.” I tried to get up, but Mark held me down, pressing on my shoulder. As a sharp pain shot through my knee, he raised his hand and slapped me again, and again. The world swam before my eyes, stars exploding behind them. The tears I’d been holding back finally fell. Veronica knelt, grabbing my chin and examining my swollen face with a sadistic pleasure. “See that, you little slut? No matter what tricks you pull, my husband still loves me.” Lily stepped forward, a sarcastic smile on her face. “Sienna, you should thank Mrs. Hayes for the lesson.” I reached for my phone on the floor, intending to call the police, but Mark kicked it away. As my colleagues watched with amusement, Veronica pulled out a wad of cash and threw it in my face. “Is this what you want? Money? Here. Take it.” The thick stack of bills hit me, the sharp edges of the paper cutting my skin. Mark shook his head, his face a mask of disappointment. “Sienna, I thought you were a reasonable person. Now you want to call the police over this little squabble? You’re embarrassing Sterling Corp and the entire Sterling Group.” With that, the HR manager, who had just arrived, tossed my employee file onto my lap with a sigh. “Sienna Sterling, due to the significant negative impact you have had on the company’s reputation during your employment, we can no longer continue your internship. Your records have been sent back to your university.” “No company in this city will hire you now.” “No, not just this city…” Mark interjected. “From this moment on, no company under the Sterling Group will accept your application.” The office, which had been buzzing with whispers, fell completely silent. Everyone knew that the Sterling Group was the industry leader. To be blacklisted by them meant your career was essentially over. Veronica looked triumphant. She took a picture of me in my disheveled state and sent it to the executive management chat, then recorded a voice message, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Gentlemen, this Sienna Sterling is a snake in the grass. The Sterling name is too good for the likes of her.” I closed my eyes. Any last shred of hesitation I had vanished. If you can use your power and position to humiliate Sienna Sterling, the ordinary intern, then don’t be surprised when the heiress of the Sterling Group comes for you. I was escorted out of the office. In the elevator on the way down, Mr. Thompson, a manager from another department, blocked the colleague who was supposed to be watching me leave. His lecherous gaze roamed over my chest. He rubbed his hands together, his greasy face eager. “Sienna, so young, and such poor judgment… Everyone at Sterling Corp knows Veronica is a shrew with no talent. The only reason she has any power is because her mother was a nanny for the Sterling family for twenty years. If it wasn’t for that connection, Mark would still be a junior manager. You picked the wrong horse. You should have picked me! My wife at home has only given me daughters. If you give me a son, I’ll marry you…” As he spoke, his hand crept toward my chest. My face darkened, and I slapped his hand away. “Get lost.” Thompson’s expression turned ugly. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head against the glass wall of the elevator. “You think you’re too good for me? You’re just another slut who’s been passed around. If I took you right here, right now, everyone would just think you were asking for it.” My head swam, and I tried to fight back, but he just grinned and slammed my head against the glass again. I gritted my teeth, but I was too weak. I slumped to the floor, watching helplessly as his fat, grasping hands came closer. “You animal!” “Still playing the innocent maiden… You’re about to be mine anyway.” He was impatient now, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of my shirt. Just then, the elevator stopped. The doors opened, and a familiar voice cut through the air. “Miss Sterling! Are you alright?”

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1 The tender moment—my husband and I, foreheads pressed together in a lingering farewell at the train station—was captured by a stranger and went viral. It should have been just another sweet video, blessed with well-wishes. But then one comment blew it up, sending it rocketing to hundreds of thousands of likes and shares. [Dude, you should delete this! That’s my boy, and his wife’s about to have their baby!] I found it absurd, almost laughable. The man I had just legally married, the man I was planning my wedding with, couldn’t possibly be someone else’s husband. But the rumor spread like a plague. “The Great Online Mistress Hunt” became my trending hashtag. The flood of messages in my inbox was unbearable. I needed my husband, Matthew, to clear the air. That’s when I overheard his friend’s teasing voice through his office door. “Man, you must be exhausted, juggling Ava and Nora these days.” Matthew just chuckled. “Nora’s throwing a fit because she found out Ava and I got our marriage license. She’s dead set on making Ava a laughingstock.” I stood frozen at his office door, a chill seeping deep into my bones. The Ava he was talking about was me. And Nora… was his adoptive niece. … “Does Ava even know you and Nora used to be a thing?” My mind went blank, a deafening buzz drowning out everything else. “It doesn’t matter—” The sharp ring of his phone cut Matthew off, snapping me back to reality. The second he pulled the door open, I arranged my face into a look of perfect, pleasant surprise. “Ava? What are you doing here?” his friend asked. I forced a smile, my heart hammering against my ribs, and gave a small nod. My gaze drifted past him into the office, and the smile froze on my face. Where my carefully chosen monstera and palm plants used to be, there was now a sprawling collection of Labubu art toys. “Your hands are freezing,” Matthew said, ending his call and wrapping his warm hand around mine. I pulled away, gesturing toward the army of vinyl figures. “Have you forgotten about your allergies? Your asthma?” He followed my gaze, a look of confusion on his face before it melted into a fond, indulgent smile. “Oh, that. Nora said my office was too stuffy. She wanted to ‘update my aesthetic.’” The name “Nora” had never sounded so grating. Matthew was a man who valued his boundaries. He never let anyone intrude on his personal space. I remember our first real fight, back when I had spent weeks researching the best air-purifying plants for his health. “Ava, I hate it when people cross the line,” he’d said, his eyes filled with an undisguised annoyance that stung. Even after a year together, I had blamed myself, convinced I hadn’t respected him enough. The day I was finally allowed to add my own touches to his office, I naively thought I had finally broken through his walls and earned a place in his heart. But Nora had only been back in the country for a month, and every trace of me had already been erased. If I hadn’t overheard their conversation, I might have tried to rationalize it, telling myself they were just a close uncle and niece and I was being petty. But I had forgotten. They weren’t related by blood at all. Nora was just the daughter his older brother had informally taken in years ago. I forced a smile. “Well, I don’t like them. Get rid of them.” Matthew’s smile faded, his expression darkening. His voice dropped. “They’re just toys, Ava. Don’t you think it’s a bit petty to pick a fight with a young girl over them?” I nodded, my smile never reaching my eyes. “Oh, I’m more than just petty. I hold a grudge.” I paused, my voice steady. “Is there anything you’re hiding from me?” My jaw tightened, my fists clenching at my sides. I fought to keep my breathing even, to hide the frantic rhythm of my heart. He stared, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You see right through me, don’t you? I was planning a surprise, how did you find out?” He spoke as he slid a box across the desk toward me. But my attention was snagged by the open drawer beside it. Inside lay a necklace—a pendant shaped like the right half of a heart. The strange thing was, I’d seen its other half. On Nora’s Instagram. I had even liked the post, the caption a giddy declaration: [Your left side is all mine now!] The diamond ring he slid onto my finger was too big. My hand went slack. The ring slipped from my finger and clattered to the floor. A sharp, needle-like pain pricked at my heart as I watched Matthew awkwardly bend down to retrieve it. “I’m so sorry, Ava,” he stammered. “Nora’s so unreliable. She swore your hands were the same size. I’ll have it resized immediately. Please, don’t be angry.” My fiancé, using his “niece” as a cover, had ordered my engagement ring based on his ex-girlfriend’s finger size. When they were picking it out together, being praised as the perfect, loving couple… were they getting off on the thrill of some twisted, forbidden taboo? I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “I found the person who started the rumors about me being a homewrecker,” I said flatly. He froze for a second. I met his eyes, my voice calm and serious. “It was Nora. I’m going to file a police report.” “Don’t be ridiculous!” Matthew’s face hardened, his brow furrowing. “She’s my niece, Ava. Soon she’ll be your family too. You’re going to have her arrested?” All it took was one mention of Nora, and the mask of the gentle, sophisticated man I loved shattered. “And you didn’t have a problem calling animal control on my brother’s puppy, did you?” I asked softly. He sputtered, speechless. The day Nora came over to pick up some documents, my brother had brought his puppy to visit. While I was in the kitchen making tea, the dog had jumped on her in the garden, leaving a faint scratch on her arm. Matthew had dropped everything at work and rushed home. “That mutt should be put down!” he had roared. But the security footage showed the whole story: Nora had been yanking the dog’s tail, hard, causing it to react in fear. At the time, I just thought he was being overprotective. I smoothed things over, and after the puppy was taken away, I secretly pulled some strings to get it back. He must have realized his own hypocrisy. He sighed, his voice softening. “Ava, when did you become so unreasonable? It was just a dog, a dog that had already hurt someone.” He paused. “And even if Nora did start the rumor, it was just a silly joke. Is it really worth making such a big deal over?” I looked down, pressing back the storm of pain inside me. So, in his eyes, the humiliation of being publicly branded a homewrecker, of being torn apart by the entire internet, was less significant than a scratch on Nora’s arm that could be covered with a Band-Aid. Seeing my silence, he must have mistaken it for surrender. He reached out, pulling me into a gentle embrace. “We’re getting married soon. The rumors will die down on their own. We’ll have so many more happy moments to capture.” A future built on lies and deceit can never be happy, I wanted to scream. In the end, Matthew did manage to kill the online buzz. The day before my birthday, he showed up with a bouquet of flowers as a peace offering. “Nora didn’t mean any harm. She knows she was wrong! She even got you a birthday present.” On my birthday, our house was filled with guests. Very few were my friends or family. Most were strangers to me, all orbiting around Nora. She was a vision in a striking red dress, her makeup flawless. She and Matthew, dapper in a black suit and white shirt, moved around the kitchen together, a picture of bizarre domestic harmony. As the last dish was served, Nora placed a single shrimp in my bowl. She winked playfully, her tone laced with triumph. “Ava, I can’t believe you got so upset about those little toys in Uncle Matthew’s office. I made you this dinner myself, so you can’t be mad at him anymore, okay?” Her words painted me as a petty, irrational girlfriend, jealous of an innocent niece. The guests shot me strange, judging glances. I looked at Matthew. He seemed oblivious to the subtle shift in the room’s atmosphere. “Ava, Nora spent a whole week learning how to cook this meal just to apologize. You have to try it.” I took a deep breath. “I’m allergic to shellfish.” Nora’s lips curved into a smirk. “Oh, whoops! My bad, Ava. How about some tofu instead?” She spooned a heap of it into my bowl. My fists clenched under the table. I kept my eyes locked on Matthew. I’m allergic to soy, too. Of all the dishes on the table, the only thing I could eat was a plate of steamed greens. Matthew knew that. He had to know. But he just leaned in, his face grim, and whispered, “Ava, just eat the tofu. We have your allergy medication here, you’ll be fine. Nora has a lot of pride. It took a lot for her to apologize. She’s acting out a little, but you’re the adult here. Don’t stoop to her level.” A slow, cold smile spread across my face. I understood. I picked up my bowl. Under Matthew’s relieved gaze, I lifted my arm and flung its contents across the table. “Ah!” Nora shrieked. Matthew had shielded her from the worst of it, but her hair was still matted with sticky, crumbled tofu. She looked pathetic. I smiled sweetly. “Since I’m the adult, I guess it’s my job to teach the younger generation a lesson. You’re welcome to it.” Matthew shot up from his chair, his hand flying through the air. The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the room. And in that instant, my world went utterly silent. Matthew stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I spent my birthday—the first one without him in seven years—surrounded by the wreckage of our dinner. He didn’t come home that night. I contacted a lawyer to draw up divorce papers. Just as I was about to text Matthew, my phone started buzzing relentlessly. A torrent of abusive texts from unknown numbers. [You’re famous now, you fucking homewrecker!] [Got a thing for married men, huh? You a professional or something?] My hands trembled as I opened up the trending topics. The train station video, the one he had suppressed, was back at number one. My boss called and told me to stay home for a while. A mob of “homewrecker hunters” had already shown up at my office. My personal information had been leaked. My mind was a chaotic blank when another text popped up. [So what if you have a marriage license? His heart belongs to me. You’re the one who has to hide in the shadows!] [If it wasn’t for that stubborn old man at the Vance estate, I would have been Mrs. Vance years ago!] The messages from Nora kept coming, one after another. I read them numbly, piecing together the story I had been too blind to see. Matthew’s grandfather, the patriarch of the Vance family, had never approved of the orphaned Nora. When he discovered their secret relationship, he gave her a choice: a large sum of money and a new identity—as the adopted daughter of his eldest son. He threw a city-wide banquet to publicly announce their new, purely platonic “uncle-niece” relationship. Matthew fell into a deep depression, convinced Nora had chosen money and status over him. And that’s when I appeared. The perfect rebound. The perfect foundation for seven years of a beautiful, hollow lie. Tears blurred the screen of my phone. The last message from Nora, an attached photo, was the thing that finally shattered the last thread of my sanity. In the picture, Matthew was on one knee, dressed in a sharp tuxedo and bow tie, tenderly kissing Nora’s hand. And Nora was radiant in a magnificent white wedding gown. They looked perfect together. [I bet you didn’t know this, did you?] she wrote. [The same day you two were filmed at the train station? He and I were taking our wedding photos.] That day. I had taken the train to another city to consult a specialist for Matthew’s asthma. “I should just cancel my meetings,” he’d murmured, his voice thick with reluctance as he pressed his forehead to mine. “I hate that you have to go alone.” My heart had swelled with love. “Don’t be silly! You already came all the way to the station with me, you even bought an extra platform ticket. You’re spoiling me!” “Every extra second with you is worth it,” he’d whispered. That moment, captured by a stranger’s lens, the moment I thought was a snapshot of our perfect happiness… it was a lie from the very beginning. I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand. Oh, Matthew. If that’s how we’re playing this, then I have a gift for you, too. Matthew came home right after I posted our marriage certificate online. I had fallen asleep on the sofa and woke to find him in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, making breakfast. He saw me, froze for a moment, then sighed and looked down. “Why are you barefoot again?” he asked softly, his voice laced with a guilty sort of weariness. He moved to kneel, a familiar, practiced motion. But just before his fingers could touch my ankle, I pulled my foot back and slipped it into my slippers. His hand hovered, frozen in mid-air. “Thank you,” I said, my tone polite, distant. For some reason, my courtesy seemed to infuriate him. “The things they’ve been saying online these past two days… they’re disgusting,” he said, his voice ragged with frustration. “Why didn’t you call me?” I gave him a cool, placid look. “You were busy with the wedding. I can handle it myself.” A flash of shock crossed his face. But when he realized I had brought up the wedding myself, the tension in his brow eased. He reached up, his movements fluid and confident, to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I flinched back. The small movement seemed to wound him deeply. His face crumpled with regret. “Ava, I’m so sorry. That slap… I was out of my mind. Please, don’t be afraid of me. I lost control, and I regret it more than you can imagine.” He grabbed my hand, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “Let me be honest with you, okay? Nora was just angry that you embarrassed her in front of all those people. She pushed your video back into the spotlight behind my back. The moment I found out, I took care of it. And I read her the riot act.” “She knows she was wrong. She promised me she’d never do anything like it again.” He was apologizing now, right after I’d revealed our marriage certificate. It was hard not to suspect he was just afraid I’d press charges. But it didn’t matter anymore. I nodded, pulling my hand from his grasp. “Okay.” His brow furrowed, and he recaptured my hand, his grip possessive, as if to prove that his love for me was unchanged. The gesture reminded me of a hundred other arguments. I would always pull away, using physical distance to mask my vulnerability. And he would always see through my brittle defenses, stubbornly pulling me back into his arms. I looked at him, my voice even. “Matthew. Is there anything else you’re hiding from me?” Just tell me the truth, I pleaded silently. And I will let you go with dignity. He met my gaze, his eyes shining with what looked like absolute sincerity. “There’s nothing else, Ava. I swear.” “There never will be again. My past, my future… it’s all yours.” I smiled, a genuine, liberating smile. “Good.” Because my future will have no place for you. The wedding day drew closer. As tradition dictated, we weren’t supposed to see each other for the week leading up to it. His friends threw him a bachelor party, but Matthew was uncharacteristically distracted, his eyes constantly on his phone. “You’re seeing her tomorrow, man. Do you have to stare at your phone all night?” one of his friends teased. Matthew offered a weak smile. “You wouldn’t get it, you’re single.” His friend laughed, not offended in the slightest. “I gotta hand it to you, Matthew. Getting a woman as proud as Ava to just accept you carrying on with Nora right under her nose, without a single fight? You’re my hero, man!” Another guy chimed in. “What are you talking about? He just thinks of Nora as a niece.” “A niece you can kiss and cuddle? Hahaha, that’s some forbidden fruit right there!” The room erupted in laughter. Matthew, like any man, basked in the ego-stroking, but my brief, ordinary texts sent a strange unease crawling under his skin. “Watch your mouths,” he warned, his tone suddenly serious. “My only wife is Ava. Nora is in the past.” On the day of the wedding, his anxiety intensified. But then he saw the custom light fixtures I had designed myself. He saw the venue overflowing with pink roses, my favorite flower. He relaxed, laughing at himself for being so nervous he was rubbing his thumb raw. He watched the beautiful bride walking toward him, a vision in white. He made a silent vow to cherish me for the rest of his life. When the officiant told him to lift the veil, Matthew’s hands trembled with eager reverence. He swept the delicate fabric aside. And his face went ghost white. The bride beamed up at him, her eyes shining with manic joy. “Uncle Matthew! I’m finally marrying you!”

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My lucky streak started the day I found a stray poodle. It wasn’t just landing my company’s biggest contract or the promotion and raise that followed. It was catching the eye of a wealthy matriarch who decided I was the perfect match for her son. She offered me cars, a house, and promised to sign over the entire family fortune to our firstborn. I was ready to refuse, but when she showed me a photo of her son—currently away on business—this certified sucker for a handsome face was sold. The wedding was arranged in a whirlwind, but the groom missed his flight and never made it. His mother, my new mother-in-law, had me walk down the aisle with the poodle in my arms and, right there at the altar, transferred an extra million dollars into my account as a wedding gift. Just like that, I married into high society. A few days later, my roommate pushed me off our apartment building’s rooftop. “We both saw that dog!” she screamed, her face a mask of rage. “Why do you get the fairytale wedding while I get nothing? If you die, I can start over! I can have it all!” When I opened my eyes again, I was standing on that same street corner. This time, I made sure she was the one to adopt the poodle. 1 “Oh, you poor little thing! Are you lost?” My roommate, Stella, a notorious neat freak, scooped up the filthy poodle that was circling our feet. Before I could even process what was happening, she shot me a sharp look. “Phoebe, I’m keeping this dog. Don’t you dare try to take him from me.” I saw the fierce determination in her eyes, a stark contrast to how things had played out the first time. I knew instantly: she was reborn, too. A triumphant smirk played on Stella’s lips. “I feel a real connection to this dog, like he’s a good luck charm. Who knows what he’ll bring me.” She paused, sizing me up. “I know you want him, but you already have two dogs. You can’t possibly handle a third, right?” I glanced at the poodle nestled in her arms and gave a slight shrug. “You’re right, I’m stretched thin as it is. If you want him, he’s all yours.” In my previous life, I only took him in because he followed us all the way home. I felt sorry for the matted, dirty creature, so I gave him a bath and some food. He never left. I had no idea that simple act of kindness would completely derail my life. At my words, Stella’s eyes lit up with an excitement she couldn’t hide. “You promise? No take-backs!” she said, her voice giddy. “Even if he helps me marry… well, whatever happens, you can’t get jealous!” She cut herself off, probably worried she’d say too much and I’d change my mind. After I swore a solemn oath that I wouldn’t regret it, she hugged the dog tightly and practically skipped home. At the same moment, a notification materialized in my mind. [Congratulations. You have been granted one chance to be reborn. The death of the key individual at this critical juncture will allow you to return to this moment and change your fate.] The message was a revelation. Rebirth wasn’t random; it was a power that could be activated. The trigger was the death of the other person who received the opportunity. No wonder Stella had said my death would let her start over. She had been given the same power. But from her reaction just now, it was clear she had no idea that I was reborn, too. The moment I walked through our apartment door, Stella blocked my path. “Phoebe, did you hear a weird noise just now?” she asked, her expression a mix of panic and anxiety. I knew exactly what she was talking about, but I just frowned. “What kind of noise? Is someone breaking in?” “No, it was like… a robot voice. It said something about being reborn… and death.” I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been reading too many fantasy novels, Stella. Rebirth isn’t real. You should stop daydreaming.” She scrutinized my face, searching for any hint of a lie. When she found none, she visibly relaxed. Humming a cheerful tune, she disappeared into her room. I watched her go, a small, cold smile touching my lips. She had no idea that this poodle had another name: the Wicked Fleece. I hoped she was ready to pay the price for taking him in. 2 That night, just as I was about to go to bed, a frantic knocking echoed from my door. “Phoebe, go give this filthy animal a bath! And make sure you scrub him clean!” Stella demanded. For some reason, the thought of touching that poodle filled me with a primal revulsion. “I have a report to finish for work. I don’t have time.” I tried to close the door, but she stuck her hand in the way. “What kind of attitude is that? You’d better watch your tone with me. When I make it big, if you’re lucky, I might hire you as my dog’s nanny!” As if on cue, the poodle trotted out of the bathroom and began humping her bare leg. Stella let out a frustrated shriek and kicked him away. The poodle slammed into the wall with a painful yelp. I winced but hardened my heart. “If you can’t handle it, take him to a groomer. They’re professionals.” I shut the door in her face, her muffled curses following me. In the days that followed, Stella not only started copying my style of dress, but she also began taking the poodle to work with her. At first, our colleagues cooed about how kind-hearted she was. That lasted less than a day. Because Stella didn’t bother with a leash or a crate, the poodle, clearly in heat, started marking its territory everywhere and lunging at people’s legs. “Stella, can you please control your dog? He just soaked my pant leg!” “Ugh, he got into my trash can and now there’s garbage everywhere.” “Damn it, Stella! He just peed on the copies I just made!” Stella ignored their complaints completely. Our manager was already on edge because a major client was due for a site visit. When he saw the chaotic state of the office, he exploded. “Stella! Who gave you permission to bring a pet to work?” he roared. “Do you have any idea how important this client is? Our entire second half depends on this deal! You have ten minutes to get this place cleaned up, or you and that dog can get out!” Stella, however, remained completely unfazed. She wasn’t even scared of the manager who used to terrify her. “I know exactly who’s coming,” she said with a smug little smile. “That’s why I brought him. And just so you know, without me, none of you would be closing this deal today. So, I’d appreciate it if you stopped yelling. Or you might not be a manager for much longer.” A stunned silence fell over the office, followed by snickers of disbelief. “Has she lost her mind? She’s an intern, talking to the manager like that.” “I think she’s genuinely unwell. Earlier she was telling everyone she’s about to marry into a rich family and that we’d better not cross her.” “Seriously? This is the girl who budgets her takeout orders down to the cent? Marry into a rich family? The only ‘old money’ she’s getting is the change she finds in the sofa.” But I knew. Stella wasn’t lying. The important client arriving any minute was the poodle’s owner: Eleanor Vance, the chairwoman of the Vance Corporation. Though furious, the manager was a seasoned veteran of the business world. Stella’s unwavering confidence gave him pause. “You’d better be right about this,” he warned, his voice low. After ordering the cleaning crew to do a rush job, he escorted Eleanor Vance and her entourage into the office. The poodle immediately darted to her feet, nipping at her trouser leg and yapping excitedly. A strange expression crossed Eleanor’s face, and a wave of fear washed over the room. The manager rushed to apologize. “Mrs. Vance, I am so sorry. I’ll handle this immediately. Stella, get over—” Before he could finish, Eleanor bent down and lifted the poodle into her arms. She examined him closely before turning her sharp gaze on Stella. “Is this your dog?” Stella stepped forward, her voice a timid whisper. “I’m so sorry. He’s usually very well-behaved. He’s such a poor, sweet thing. He would have starved if I hadn’t found him. Please, don’t hurt him.” Eleanor’s eyes scanned Stella from head to toe. “Hurt him? My dear, I should be thanking you. This is my lost dog. You are a very kind young woman. Name your reward. Anything you want, it’s yours.” Watching the scene unfold from a new perspective, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Eleanor’s expression wasn’t one of gratitude or admiration. Her words felt less like an offer and more like a hunter laying a trap. Stella, however, could barely contain her excitement. “Really? What a coincidence! I only took him in because I felt sorry for him, I never expected a reward. But… if you really want to thank me, I hope you’ll give our company’s proposal serious consideration. I stayed up for nights writing it myself.” Gasps rippled through the office. 3 Someone started to speak, but the manager silenced them with a single glare. Eleanor seemed surprised for a moment, then nodded. “If you’re in charge of the project, then let’s sign the contract. I trust that a person as kind as you must also be dedicated to her work.” She turned to leave, then paused and looked back. “Stella, is it? Join me for dinner tonight. I’ll have my driver pick you up.” The triumphant joy on Stella’s face was unmistakable. As soon as Eleanor was gone, the manager announced Stella’s promotion from intern to full-time employee. “Phoebe,” he said, turning to me, “give Stella your files. She’ll be taking over the project from here.” “But sir, this project was—” a colleague tried to defend me. The manager’s face darkened, and I quickly stopped her. I handed the thick folder to Stella, and the manager’s expression softened. “See? Phoebe’s a team player. She understands the big picture. When the company succeeds, we all succeed.” After he left, Stella strutted over to my desk like a proud peacock. “I bet you’re regretting it now, aren’t you, Phoebe? But it’s too late. You’re the one who gave him up.” Her voice dripped with malice. “Are you angry? Frustrated? The project you’ve worked on for six months is mine now. This is payback for not helping me last night!” She leaned in closer. “And let me tell you, soon I’ll be Mrs. Julian Vance. And you? You’ll be stuck slaving away in this miserable office for the rest of your life!” She then turned to the rest of the office. “And as for the rest of you corporate drones, you’d better start treating me with some respect. Once I’m a Vance, if I’m in a good mood, I might just throw a big client your way.” With that, she flounced out of the office. My colleagues erupted in a chorus of angry muttering. “She finds a lost dog and suddenly thinks she’s royalty? It was a one-time thing, does she really think this is her ticket to the high life?” “What a horrible person. Stealing Phoebe’s project like that. One stroke of luck and she thinks she’s better than everyone.” “She’s delusional. A rich woman was polite to her for five minutes and now she thinks she’s marrying into the family? Get real.” “Don’t worry, Phoebe. We’ll all be here to watch her come crawling back when reality hits.” I just smiled without saying a word. Because I knew that tonight, Eleanor Vance would indeed ask Stella to be her daughter-in-law. That’s why she was acting so insufferably arrogant. But a marriage born from a lost dog… could it really be that simple? Sure enough, two days later, Stella appeared at the office, dripping in jewels, to hand out wedding invitations. She stopped at my desk, looking down at me with disdain. “Phoebe, I’m sure you’re dying to come to my high-society wedding. After all, some people will never get an opportunity like this in their entire lifetime.” “Stella,” I said calmly, “I hear Mr. Vance is still abroad. You haven’t even met him. Don’t you think getting married so quickly is a bit… rushed? What if—” She cut me off. “Ha! I’ve seen pictures of Julian. He’s handsome and rich. Why wouldn’t I marry him? My mother-in-law said that even though it’s last minute, it will be a proper wedding with all the trimmings. You’re just jealous.” There was no point in arguing. As I reached for the invitation she held out, she let it slip from her fingers. It fluttered to the floor, and she promptly pinned it under her stiletto heel. “You want it? Shine my shoes, and it’s yours.” It wasn’t that I wanted the invitation. But I had too many unanswered questions, and I needed to get inside that hotel. After a few seconds of tense silence, I knelt and wiped her shoe. Stella burst out laughing at the sight of my submission. “That’s more like it!” She gave my shoulder a light kick before putting on her sunglasses and striding away. 4 The day of the wedding arrived. The venue was decorated exactly as I remembered. And, just like last time, the groom missed his flight. The hall was buzzing with gossip. Before Eleanor could say a word, Stella bravely announced that she would complete the ceremony alone. Eleanor, clearly impressed by Stella’s understanding and poise, readily agreed and transferred another million dollars to her account on the spot. With Julian absent, the reception ended with Stella heading to the bridal suite alone, clutching the poodle. The moment she was inside, I pulled out my phone and activated the hidden camera I had planted earlier, slipping into the room when the staff was distracted. On the screen, Stella squealed with delight at the balance in her bank account, rolling around on the large, red matrimonial bed. A moment later, Eleanor entered and told her to drink a glass of milk and get some rest. Soon after, Stella was fast asleep, still in her wedding dress. In my past life, I had also drunk the milk and passed out instantly. When I woke up the next morning, my clothes were strewn on the floor, and my body was covered in strange marks. Now, I was finally going to see what happened after I fell asleep. The next thing that appeared on the screen made my eyes go wide. A ghostly, transparent image of a man shimmered into existence above the bed. I watched in horror as the apparition’s hands roamed over Stella’s body, deftly unfastening her dress. His face was twisted in a lecherous grin, and he muttered obscene things under his breath. “Been a while since I had a taste of a real woman. God, I’ve been dying for this.” His spectral hands caressed her skin. “So soft… your hair smells so good, your skin… I’m going to take real good care of you…” Then, as if remembering something, his expression soured, and he slapped Stella across the face. “You bitch! You dared to kick me, again and again. Let’s see how you like it when I teach you a lesson!” Though he was just an apparition, angry red welts immediately appeared on Stella’s cheek. The voice was familiar, and as I studied the ghost’s features, I realized he looked exactly like the man in the photograph. He looked like Julian. In my past life, when I discovered the marks on my body, I had asked Eleanor about them. She told me her son Julian had come back during the night. They had consummated the marriage, but he’d had urgent business and had to fly out again immediately. I was inexperienced and too embarrassed to question a senior about such intimate matters, so I let it go. I never imagined that the “consummation” she spoke of was with a ghost. The apparition’s movements grew rougher. He ripped the skirt of Stella’s dress, showing no hint of tenderness. But just as he was about to descend upon her, he stopped. His eyes narrowed, his spectral face contorting with rage. “Damn it! You whore!” he snarled. “I thought she was pure… but she reeks. What a waste of my time.” I frowned. He had just been saying how good she smelled. Why the sudden change? Perhaps his enraged shouting was too loud, because Eleanor came back into the room. She saw Stella’s bruised and battered body and rushed to intervene. “Son, what’s wrong?” she cried. “We finally found a suitable woman. Take it easy! If you damage her body, how is she supposed to bear your child?” The ghost of Julian was seething. “Suitable? She’s not worthy! We’ve been tricked! She’s not pure, Mom. She reeks of other men. There’s no way she can carry my child.” This was even more confusing. I didn’t know anything about Stella’s personal life, but what did that have to do with having a child? Their next exchange gave me the answer. Eleanor frowned, sniffing the air. “What are you talking about? I don’t smell anything.” “Mom, would I lie to you? Have you forgotten? The master opened my spiritual senses. I can tell if a woman is a virgin just by her scent. This one covers it up with perfume, but once her clothes are off, the stench is unbearable. God knows how many men she’s been with. Mom, what do we do? We found the wrong one!” Eleanor looked just as bewildered. “How could we be wrong? The master was specific about the time and place where we would find a virgin with a pure yin constitution, perfect for you. He even said she would be kind, soft-hearted, and a lover of animals, and that she would surely take you home.” “Everything matched the time and place where Stella found you. How could it be a mistake?” Hearing this, I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. If what they were saying was true… their original target was me. My rebirth had thrown them off course, and Stella had taken my place. But even if I did have this “pure yin constitution,” why was it so important for me to have Julian’s child? The next words I heard sent a deathly chill down my spine.

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1. My wife and daughter had stumbled into the abandoned minefield on the back hills. Panic ripped through our small town. The urgent, distorted voice of the town’s emergency broadcast crackled to life, a desperate plea that echoed through the valley: “Jake Miller! You’re the only one who can defuse those military-grade mines! Get to the back hills! Your daughter needs you!” My neighbors dragged me from a poker game, their hands rough on my arms as they shoved me toward the hills. Through the barbed wire fence, I could see my daughter, her face smeared with blood and tears. “Dad, please, help us!” she screamed, her voice thin with terror. “You’re the inly one who can do this…” My face went pale. I grabbed my defusal kit and charged forward. The whole town thought I was rushing to save my family. But I wasn’t. I veered off, crouching down, moving slowly toward a small white mouse trapped in the corner of the field, its leg caught in the tripwire of a mine. “This kit,” I muttered to myself, “can only be used once.” And I was choosing to save the mouse. My daughter watched, her face crumbling in disbelief as I moved toward the animal. “Dad, are you crazy?” she shrieked. “What about me? I’m your daughter!” Her voice was a raw, hysterical cry of despair. “You’re saving a rodent instead of me?” My wife, Sarah, stared at me, her face ashen. “Jake, I’ve been a good wife to you all these years. How could you abandon us now for a mouse?” The townspeople watched, their faces a mixture of confusion and disapproval. I ignored them all. I gently freed the mouse, cupping it in my hands and brushing the dust from its white fur. “Jake, now that you’ve saved the animal, are you coming to save us?” Sarah’s voice was thick with unshed tears. I looked over at her and shrugged. “Forgot to mention,” I said, my voice casual, “the detector on this thing only works once.” Her eyes widened in horror. “Then what about me and Lily? What are we supposed to do?” Her voice escalated into a shrill scream. “Jake, I know you can build a new one! You know what these mines can do! You’re the only one in this whole town who can save us!” She was sobbing, her cries echoing in the tense silence. I just carefully set the mouse down and watched it scurry away, my gaze never once meeting theirs. It wasn’t until the villagers surrounded me, pushing and shoving, calling me heartless, that I finally turned around. I looked at the two weeping women and spat out, my voice dripping with annoyance, “You’re not dead yet, are you? What’s the rush? Trying to punch your ticket to the afterlife early?” Lily collapsed to her knees. “Dad, I don’t know what’s wrong with you. You used to love me more than anything. Are you really not going to save me?” She bowed her head, her forehead hitting the dusty ground. “I know you were away in the army for most of my life, but I’ve always loved and respected you. Is this because I said I wanted to marry that boy from the next town over? I won’t! I’ll do whatever you want! Just please, save me and Mom!” Sarah’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “Jake, this is nothing for you. I’ve seen you assemble those kits. It takes you three minutes! Do you have a heart? Are you really going to watch your wife and daughter die?” I had never seen her so broken, not in all our years of marriage. I just sat down on the ground, yawned, and pulled a deck of cards from my pocket. “We didn’t finish our game, Bill,” I said to my neighbor. “I had a straight flush.” Bill’s face paled. “Jake, that’s your wife and child in there! How can you be like this?” “They walked in there themselves,” I said coldly, not even bothering to look at him. “It’s their own damn fault. Am I supposed to take the blame for their stupidity?” Sarah’s eyes turned red. “Jake Miller! I thought we had a good marriage,” she screamed, her voice trembling. “I can’t believe you’d just leave us here to die!” She laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “Fine! I’ll walk out myself. If I die, Lily can use my body as a bridge!” “Good,” I said without looking up. “Go ahead and die.” Sarah froze, her foot hovering in the air. She slowly pulled it back, her face a mask of terror. Lily, in her panic, had fallen. Her face was a mess of dirt and blood. “Dad, if you don’t clear a path, we’re not getting out of here,” she sobbed. “I’m your only daughter. Are you really just going to watch me die?” One of our neighbors couldn’t take it anymore. “Jake,” he said, his voice pleading, “I’ve got some old supplies from my army days. I’ll bring them to you. Just please, save Sarah and Lily.” I shot him a look that could freeze fire. “When did I say I was going to save them?” Sarah’s tears flowed freely. They were both injured from an earlier blast when they had tried to retreat, and now they were too scared to move. Sarah’s right hand was gone, a bloody stump wrapped in a makeshift bandage. She pointed at me with her mangled arm, her voice choked with tears. “Jake, how can you be so cruel?” Lily’s voice joined hers, a chorus of accusation. “Dad, I’ve always been a good daughter to you! You could save us, but you used your only chance on an animal! Now Mr. Johnson is offering you more supplies and you won’t even lift a finger! Are you even human?” “I’m the only one with the skills,” I said, my voice flat and bored. “I save who I want to save. Besides, what were you two doing in the minefield in the first place? You make a stupid mistake and now you expect me to risk my life to clean up your mess? You’re grown women. It’s time you learned to take responsibility for your own lives. Begging me won’t do you any good.” “Jake,” Sarah’s voice trembled, “even if you won’t save me, Lily is your own flesh and blood! How can you watch her die?” I laughed, a cold, empty sound. “You’re the one who led her in there. You didn’t seem to care much about her life then. Don’t you dare talk to me about ‘family.’ My life is valuable. I’m not wasting it on you two.” I threw my cards on the ground in frustration. “Bill, I had a winning hand. You’re not trying to get out of paying me, are you? How about another round?” The villagers stared at me, their faces turning from shock to fury. One of the younger men stepped forward. “Jake Miller, we used to respect you. We called you ‘chief’ because we thought you were a decent man. But you won’t even save your own family. You’re not a man at all. We know you were a demolitions expert in the army. This is nothing to you. We’ve got the supplies. Why won’t you help them? Is your heart made of stone?” Before I could answer, a couple of them lunged at me, pushing me to the ground. I didn’t even flinch. I just slowly got to my feet, brushing the dust off my clothes with a contemptuous smile. “So, Bill, are we playing or not? If not, you at least owe me for the gas I spent getting here.” “Jake,” Sarah’s voice was raw, “why do you hate me so much? Whatever it is, we can sort it out later. Please, just save us!” I glanced at her, my voice dripping with scorn. “Weren’t you going to make a path for Lily with your dead body? Get to it.” I picked up my cards and dealt myself a new hand. A royal flush. I smiled. Lily stared at me, her face a mask of utter despair. She fell to her knees and began to beg, her forehead hitting the ground again and again. “Dad, please! I’ll be your slave for the rest of my life! I’ll never get married, I’ll take care of you forever! Just save us!” Her leg was a bloody mess, blood pooling around her torn jeans. But still, she knelt, her back straight, her eyes pleading. The sight of them, covered in blood, was horrific. Some of the villagers were crying, their hands over their mouths. “Jake Miller, are you a monster?” someone finally roared. “That’s your wife! Your daughter!” The shouting was getting on my nerves. I pushed through the crowd and yelled at Bill, “Alright, go get your damn kit!” A wave of relief washed over the crowd. “See?” someone said, “I knew he couldn’t be that heartless. Sarah and Lily must have done something to really piss him off. He was just teaching them a lesson.” Bill scrambled to bring me the supplies. I took the kit and looked at it. “This is the last one?” He nodded gravely. “The last one. You’ve only got one shot.” I nodded back and quickly assembled the new detector. Sarah and Lily watched, their faces filled with a desperate, fragile hope. I smiled at them, my voice light, as if the past hour had never happened. “Scared you, didn’t I? I just wanted to remind you not to come back here again.” Lily nodded vigorously. Sarah’s eyes were red. “Jake, I knew you wouldn’t leave us…” The next second, I walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking the ravine and, without a moment’s hesitation, threw the newly assembled kit over the edge. It shattered on the rocks below. Everyone froze. That was the last kit. Without it, Sarah and Lily were dead. The crowd erupted. “Jake Miller! You’re not a man, you’re a monster! You don’t deserve to be our town chief!” “You’re a cold-blooded bastard!” “I’m writing a letter to the county! I’m getting you removed from office!” I just stood there, facing their fury, and grinned. “Don’t forget,” I said, my voice calm and steady, “every single one of your businesses, your livelihoods… I brought that to this town. You want me gone? Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you’re starving.” Silence. They stared at me, their faces white with rage, but no one dared to say another word. Lily was losing a lot of blood. Her face was pale, her lips blue. She was fading. But with her last bit of strength, she screamed at me, “You don’t deserve to be my father! Even an animal protects its young! You’re a murderer!” She tried to stumble toward me, forgetting where she was. A deafening blast ripped through the air. Dust and smoke billowed up, and with it, a spray of red. “LILY!” Sarah’s scream was a sound of pure agony. When the smoke cleared, all that was left of Lily was her lower body. Her eyes were still open, staring at me with a look of pure, undiluted hatred. Sarah, covered in her daughter’s blood, crawled toward the remains. “Jake Miller,” she shrieked, “you killed your own daughter!” I just stood there and slowly, calmly, lit a cigarette. Sarah collapsed, a pool of blood spreading out from under her. The villagers finally lost it. “You’re worse than an animal, Miller!” “There’s a special place in hell for you!” Forgetting about their livelihoods, they began to draft a petition to have me arrested. That night, the county government took notice. A special investigation team was dispatched to our town. “Good,” I thought, taking a long drag from my cigarette. “Things are finally getting interesting. Now the truth can come out.” It took two days for the rescue team to get my wife out of the minefield. My daughter was long gone, just a charred pile of remains. As they carried Sarah out on a stretcher, she looked at me with eyes full of venom. “It was you, Jake,” she hissed. “You refused to save our daughter. You destroyed our only hope. If it wasn’t for you, Lily would still be alive.” I shrugged. “What’s it got to do with me? You’re the one who took her in there. You killed her, not me.” Sarah gasped, clutching her chest, and passed out. The lead investigator stepped forward. “Mr. Miller,” he said, his voice cold, “we’ve received numerous complaints against you. We’re here to investigate whether you intentionally harmed your family and refused to provide aid. Our background check shows that Sarah and Lily Miller have been nothing but a devoted wife and daughter. Everyone speaks very highly of them. They were always respectful and caring toward you. We want to know why you stood by and did nothing when you had the power to save them. You saved a mouse, but not your own family. Was it because your daughter wanted to marry someone you didn’t approve of? Is that why you wanted her dead?” I blew a smoke ring in his face. “This is a family matter. Are you really going to interfere?” A woman from the village pushed through the crowd. “He’s a heartless bastard!” she screamed, pointing at me. “Lily was such a good girl! She was the best kid in this whole county! Every time her teacher gave out treats, she’d save them for him! And he just let her die!” Sarah opened her eyes, her voice a trembling whisper. “I don’t know what happened to him. I don’t want anything from him anymore. I just want a divorce. I’m taking the TV, the refrigerator, everything. I’m not leaving you a damn thing.” I looked at her and smiled, a cold, cruel smile. “What makes you think any of that is yours? A divorce? You think you have any say in the matter?” I leaned in close, my voice a low whisper. “Is that your picture on our marriage certificate, Sarah?” Her eyes flew open, her face draining of all color. She stared at me, her eyes wide with terror. I just smiled. “It’s finally over.” I gestured toward the hospital entrance. Two figures, dressed in rags, were standing there. Sarah saw them, and a tremor ran through her body. Her pupils dilated, her mouth fell open.

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