I busted my butt for 24 hours straight, securing two massive contracts worth millions. I took a 15-minute power nap in the bathroom stall. That afternoon, I got hit with a random $150 fine. I ignored it because, honestly, I was exhausted. The next day, I clocked in only to find out I was fired for “failure to pay the fine.” I stormed into the CEO’s office—who also happened to be my fiancé—to demand answers. His little assistant, smirking like she owned the place, cut me off. “Taking a bathroom break on company time is time theft. Fining you a day’s wages is perfectly reasonable!” she chirped. “Everyone else can finish their business in ten minutes. Why are you so special?” My fiancé chimed in, backing her up. “You’re a senior executive, Sarah. You should know better. We need to make an example out of you.” I walked out, catching a glimpse through the blinds of their silhouettes merging into one. I immediately dialed the CEO of our biggest competitor. “I’ve got twenty million in contracts. Give me a job.” “Conditions? Does your company time bathroom breaks?” 1 A hearty laugh erupted from the other end of the line. “Sarah, are you pranking me?” “Who the hell times bathroom breaks? Is your boss a psychopath?” I shot over my resume. “Just give me a title.” Harry, the competitor CEO, sent back an offer letter for Vice President. “VP work for you? Or do you want my chair?” “You’re a founding member of Jack’s company. You’ve been with him since day one. I’ve tried to poach you dozens of times, and you always said no. What happened? Lovers’ quarrel?” I snapped, “None of your business. You should be worrying about whether these twenty million dollar contracts can finally drag your company out of second place and crush Jack.” Harry’s voice was crisp, brimming with ambition. “Forget the contracts for a second. Without you, Jack’s company ain’t shit!” I filled out the onboarding forms and forwarded the contract details for the two deals I secured. “Pleasure doing business with you.” Harry, realizing I wasn’t joking, turned serious. “Sarah, if you’re genuinely joining, I’ll roll out the red carpet. But if this is just a power play to mess with Jack, rethink it. I’m not handing over the reins of my company just to get stabbed in the back.” A power play? I felt a chill run down my spine. Any executive fired for spending ten extra minutes in the bathroom would be mortified. Especially when the person firing you is the man you’ve been with for three years, the man you were about to marry. Especially when you built that company with him from the ground up, turning it into the industry leader it is today. It was cold, but expected. Jack’s special treatment of his assistant, Amber, had been a red flag for a while. “I don’t joke about work. Clear a desk. I start tomorrow.” I hung up. Harry kept blowing up my phone with disbelief. I packed up my desk, ignoring his messages. Suddenly, the overhead speaker blared, “Sarah, silence your phone during work hours. Violation: $30 fine!” Amber’s voice echoed through the office. Everyone looked at me. I ignored her and kept packing. She marched out of the office, furious. “Sarah, did you hear me? Jack was nice enough to pay your previous fine, and you’re still breaking rules?” I chuckled dryly. She was a joke. “Why would a fired employee follow company rules?” Jack heard the commotion and walked over. He leaned in close, whispering, “The girl made the rules. I can’t break them in front of her. But I paid your fine. You don’t have to leave.” I looked at him coldly and tossed my badge on the desk. “Don’t bother. You didn’t fire me? Fine. I quit.” I grabbed my box and headed for the door, but Jack blocked my path again. His face was flushed with anger as he scolded me in front of the whole office. “Sarah, stop throwing a tantrum.” “Amber set these rules to keep everyone in line. The company culture is better than ever, isn’t it?” I rolled my eyes. Better? Just moments ago, people were complaining in the group chat. Sales reps had to take the cheapest trains for business trips. Accommodation was capped at shady $20 hostels. Client dinners were restricted to street food because the budget was a measly $40. Jack enabled her, thinking she was cutting costs. But the employees were suffering. Trying to close million-dollar deals over a $40 dinner was embarrassing. Amber was the cheapskate, but Jack was the idiot for approving it. I’d been on the road so much lately, I barely spent time in the office. Now they were timing bathroom breaks? Two a day, ten minutes max? His company was doomed. I ignored the new fine Amber slapped on me for not silencing my phone and walked out. 2 I slept until the afternoon and decided to cook myself a nice meal. Just as I set the dishes on the table, the door unlocked. Jack walked in with Amber, and they casually sat down and started eating. I stared at them coldly. “I cooked this. What are you doing?” Jack frowned. “Didn’t you see my messages?” My phone was flooded with texts from him. Since hiring Amber, he hadn’t texted me in a month. Today, he sent a dozen messages, all about her. First, he scolded me for embarrassing him. Then he claimed I made Amber cry. Finally, he demanded an apology or he’d call off the wedding. It’s your fault for disrespecting Amber in public. She did nothing wrong. She’s just looking out for the company. I’m bringing her over for dinner. Cook something nice to apologize. Jack looked at the cilantro in the soup with disgust, fueling my rage. “I told you Amber hates cilantro. Are you blind? Pick it out, stem by stem!” He picked a piece of meat, blew on it, and fed it to Amber. “This is Sarah’s specialty. Try it.” Amber ate it off his chopsticks, still pouting. “The food is okay, but unless she apologizes in front of the whole company, I won’t forgive her!” “If she’s this insubordinate, how am I supposed to manage anyone else?” Jack turned on me. “Hear that? Apologize to Amber. Or forget about your job. I’m cancelling the engagement!” We promised never to use breaking up as a threat. Lately, he’d threatened it multiple times because of Amber. They were flirting right in front of me. I gripped my phone so hard I thought it would crack. “Something needs to be picked out, alright. You two!” I roared, “Jack, take Amber and get the hell out!” “You get yourself a mistress, bring her to work to flirt, and I’m supposed to apologize?” “If anyone’s cancelling the engagement, it’s me!” Jack’s face turned icy. He sneered, “This is our house. You’re kicking me out?” I kept a straight face. “This is my house. Get out.” Amber huffed as she left, smugness plastered on her face. “You dare kick me out? Do you know who I know?” “I know a bigshot investor! Apologize on your knees right now, and I might put in a good word for you!” Jack frowned, his tone menacing. “Hear that, Sarah? Kneel and apologize. The company needs her connections.” I slammed the door in their faces. “I don’t care who you know! The company isn’t my problem anymore.” Amber was fuming. Alone at last. Peace and quiet. But the food was ruined. I’d lost my appetite. I decided to eat out. While waiting for my food, I saw Jack’s Facebook post. “Sarah, I’m telling you, if you don’t publicly apologize to Amber, the wedding is off!” I rolled my eyes and blocked him. I hadn’t left the company group chat yet. The next morning, someone leaked that Jack and Amber arrived in the same car, wearing the same clothes as the day before. Rumor had it they spent the night at a hotel. Someone saw them. Photos included. I left the group chat and headed to Harry’s company. I didn’t want to hear another word about them. 3 Harry gave me my own office. He still looked shocked to see me. “You actually came! I was worried I set this up for nothing.” I handed him the contracts. “The annual industry awards are in three days. Whether we get first place depends on you.” His eyes burned with determination. “Don’t worry. With you on board, we’re taking Jack down.” I had three years of client relationships under my belt. That afternoon, I closed another deal. Walking out, I saw Jack with his arm around Amber, looking cozy. I tried to ignore them, but Jack pulled away and approached me. “I know about the group chat rumors. Don’t overthink it. Amber’s apartment flooded. I just gave her a place to crash as her boss.” Who was he kidding? Everyone knew they slept together. I stayed silent and tried to leave. Jack, feeling generous, offered, “Sarah, I know you want to come back. Amber drafted a proposal. If you help her close the deal, I’ll reinstate you.” I scoffed. “Dream on. I’m not helping her.” Jack sighed, his self-righteousness nauseating. “Amber’s fresh out of college. She lacks experience. Help her, and consider it your apology for yesterday.” “Stop being stubborn. Close this deal, and not only do you get your job back, but the wedding is back on.” We were on different planets. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. I walked past him. Amber spotted the signed contract in my hand and gasped. “That’s the new project proposal I drafted! You stole my work!” She showed Jack her papers, whining, “I stayed up two nights working on this, and she stole it.” The papers in her hand were the proposal I submitted for approval before I left. I was the lead. When I left, the project was orphaned. She simply slapped her name on it. I opened my mouth to defend myself. Jack didn’t ask questions. He slapped me across the face. “Amber fined you according to policy, and you steal her project? No wonder you wouldn’t help her. Sarah, you disgust me! Did you steal all your previous wins too?!” My face burned. I stared at Jack in disbelief. I worked there for three years. Amber was a rookie. How could I steal her project? He snatched the papers from me and ordered his bodyguards to pin me to the ground. They grabbed my hair. Jack’s face was cold. “Sarah, you owe Amber an apology.” I struggled but was forced to kowtow to Amber. My scalp screamed in pain. Amber smirked, stepping on my hand with her stiletto heel. “Sarah, I despise thieves. Did you think an apology was enough?” Pain shot through my hand. She pressed down harder. “Thieves like you deserve to lose their hands!” It felt like her heel was piercing through my skin. My vision blurred from the pain. I whispered my defense, begging Jack to help. We were together for three years. He used to treat me like a princess. A papercut would send him into a panic. But now, Jack pretended not to hear. disgust filled his face. “No wonder your dad divorced your mom. You inherited her trashy habits. Even our engagement was something she sneaked behind my back to arrange. Like mother, like daughter.” “I will never marry a thief. Sarah, the wedding is off!” He turned and walked away. My heart, already shattered, was pulverized. He used my family trauma, something he once comforted me about, as a weapon. I realized how pathetic it was to hope he’d save me. Amber waved the stolen proposal in my face, showing me a photo of her stepping on me. She sneered, “The project is mine. Jack is mine! Sarah, I’m warning you. Try to fight me, and I’ll show everyone exactly what you look like crawling on the ground like a dog!” 4 I passed out from the pain. A stranger took me to the hospital. When I woke up, Harry was sitting by my bed. A flicker of pain hid deep in his eyes. He sat in silence. I whispered that I needed a few days off to recover. Harry agreed instantly. “Take your time. The awards are in three days. We’ll take Jack down.” On the day of the awards, Harry and I sat in the front row. Jack saw us and walked over with Amber, mocking, “Sarah, you stole Amber’s project and ran to the runner-up? Even if you were fired, have some self-respect.” “Oh wait, my company is number one. You couldn’t find anywhere better.” Amber chimed in, “Wait until we win again this year and partner with that investor. You’ll be eating dirt while we monopolize the market!” I felt sick looking at them. My scalp tingled with phantom pain. Jack didn’t hide it anymore. He held Amber close. “Amber is way more capable than you! She designed a cross-state medical collaboration effortlessly. You won’t get a chance to steal from her again.” I laughed internally. Was he talking about the scrap paper I threw in the trash? Amber liked dumpster diving, apparently. If Jack actually went through with that plan… showtime. Other CEOs swarmed Jack. “Why even have this award? As long as Jack is here, first place is a lock.” “Exactly. The Best Enterprise trophy is nothing to Jack. But the funding from that investor? That’s the real prize.” “It’s gotta be Jack.” They glanced at Harry and me. “Sitting in the front row doesn’t make you a winner. You gotta earn it!” Jack soaked up the praise and walked away with his entourage. Harry and I watched them calmly. Who would win was still up in the air. The ceremony began. Jack stood up before his name was even called, heading for the stage. In the dim light, he shot a rude gesture at Harry. But when the host announced the winner, the room gasped. “Congratulations to Harry for winning Industry Leader of the Year! And securing the meeting with Mr. Stone!” Jack froze on the steps. His mind went blank. Harry walked past him, a polite smile on his face, but his eyes danced with triumph. He whispered, “Jack, sorry we took your spot this year. But don’t worry, you won’t be getting it back. You threw away your ace.”

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To get the school bad boy’s attention, the Prom Queen paid me a hundred grand to publicly bully her. “If you bully me, he’ll be heartbroken. He’ll definitely step in to protect me!” So, I blocked the Prom Queen at the school gate and screamed: “Just because you’re pretty, rich, and have good grades doesn’t mean you’re special! Stop acting like a princess!” She cried like a tragic heroine, attracting the whole school’s attention. On my way home, the bad boy’s Bentley cut me off. I was about to kneel and apologize when he handed me a platinum card. “Nice work. I’ve hated that little pick-me girl for ages.” “There’s a hundred and fifty grand in there. I’m hiring you to be my girlfriend. Keep destroying her.” 01 I stared at the bank card in front of me, my brain short-circuiting for a second. I looked up like a confused golden retriever. “Huh?” My head was still full of Chloe—our school’s resident princess—gushing about him earlier. “Maya, you don’t get the romance of rich kids like us. Jax likes me, and I like him, but we’re both too proud. Whoever confesses first loses.” “But if you bully me, he’ll be so distressed he’ll have to save me!” Looking at Jax now, leaning against his Bentley, I asked blankly, “I bullied her. Aren’t you mad?” Jax clicked his tongue. “Mad? It was satisfying as hell. You don’t know how annoying she is. Two days ago, she climbed through my window at midnight to deliver ‘homemade love snacks.’ I almost had a heart attack. I said I didn’t want it, she shoved it in my mouth. I had food poisoning all night.” Even though Chloe had serious Main Character Syndrome, to be fair, she hadn’t actually done anything bad to me. Plus, she gave me $100,000. But I firmly believe in customer service. Since I took the money, I needed to play the villain role perfectly to push their toxic romance forward. So, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and let out a cold laugh. “You aren’t even going to ask why I bullied her? I’ll tell you the truth. I’m jealous. She’s rich, pretty, smart, and popular. Do you still feel satisfied now?” Jax gave me a thumbs up. “Honesty is a virtue. A villain admits their jealousy, but a pick-me girl hides it. You just casually admitted your dark psychology. You’re a legend.” Me: “…” Jax crossed his arms, sizing me up, clearly plotting something. “Maya, I appreciate you. Here’s the deal: from now until graduation, you pretend to be my girlfriend. Your job is to keep Chloe away from me. Name your price for the hardship fee.” 02 After saying goodbye to Jax, I walked home with two bank cards, my heart pounding like a drum. I’d already checked the ATM. Between the two cards, I had a quarter of a million dollars. It was an astronomical figure for someone like me. I never expected my life to get this spicy. On one side, I’m the fake villain, the wingman for the beautiful Prom Queen’s romance. On the other side, I’m the fake girlfriend, the bodyguard for the single-since-birth bad boy. I came to this high school to get into college, not to become a double agent. But after the excitement faded, reality hit. Being a double agent is dangerous. If this blows up, I’m getting beat up twice. Chloe is one thing, but looking at Jax—6’2″, muscular build—if he punches me, I’m engaging in immediate dialogue with God. The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed with dark circles under my eyes, deciding to return the money for the sake of my life expectancy. But the moment I stepped into the classroom, I was surrounded. I go to a famous private school. Great campus, top-tier teachers, insane tuition. To boost their Ivy League acceptance rates, the school recruits a few top-scoring students every year. Tuitions waived, scholarships granted. I am one of the “charity cases.” I thought I was on the path to success, but I walked straight into a caste system. These kids are rich, watch too many dramas, and form cliques. They don’t respect teachers, let alone a broke nobody like me. Plus, I have a “pushover” face. So, bullying me is basically their team-building exercise. “Yo, Maya’s here,” my desk-mate sneered, looking at my shoes. “Didn’t I tell you? Wearing knock-offs is fine, just don’t wear the same style as me. Are you brain-dead or deaf? Why haven’t you changed them?” Before I could speak, the gym rep laughed. “Forget the shoes. Come on, Maya. I’m taking you somewhere fun.” My desk-mate looked at him. “Where? The boys’ locker room? Ew.” The group laughed as the gym rep hoisted me up by my collar like a chicken. I struggled, but it was useless. Dammit. I forgot the gym rep is Chloe’s number one simp. If I knew being a villain paid in bruises, I wouldn’t have taken the job. As we neared the locker room, I panicked and screamed: “If you touch me, I’ll tell Jax to beat you up!” The gym rep scoffed. “Jax doesn’t give a crap about you.” “Why wouldn’t he? He’s my boyfriend!” The gym rep paused, then dragged me toward Class 2. “Make way! The bad boy’s girlfriend is here!” He shouted it out, drawing a crowd. Jax was leaning against the podium, chatting. Seeing me being dragged in, his brows furrowed, and he strode over. The gym rep smirked. “Jax, Maya claims she’s your girl. You know about this?” I looked at Jax nervously, terrified he’d woken up sober and realized I wasn’t up to his standards. Instead, Jax pulled me down, then raised his leg and delivered a clean, brutal kick to the gym rep’s chest. The guy flew back six feet and didn’t get up. “You knew she was my girlfriend and you still touched her? Did I give you permission to breathe?” Jax’s face was dark. He grabbed the guy by the collar and punched him in the gut. “Apologize to my girlfriend.” Nobody messes with the heir to the Fu Corporation. The gym rep, clutching his stomach, wheezed out, “Sorry.” Everyone’s eyes snapped to me. I channeled my inner villain, lifted my chin, and stood next to Jax. “I’ll let it slide this time. Next time you mess with me, Jax will shank you.” Jax whispered in my ear, “Let’s not go that far.” “Right. Shank you, then throw you in the ocean to feed the sharks,” I nodded. Jax: “…” Just then, a scream pierced the air. Chloe came running, grabbing Jax’s arm and shaking it frantically. “What did you say? Who is your girlfriend?! Jax, explain yourself!” Jax pushed me forward and declared, “Her.” He winked at me frantically. Start working, bodyguard. I was riding the tiger now; I couldn’t get off. I grabbed Chloe. “Let’s talk privately.” I dragged her to the rooftop, locked the door, and immediately slid to my knees, hugging her legs. “Sis, let me explain!” “AHHHH!” Chloe screamed. “You evil witch! You seduced Jax! I’m going to stab you!” Me: “Not necessary, not necessary.” She started hammering my back with her tiny fists. “It is necessary!” “Listen to me!” I grabbed her wrists. “You’re missing the big picture. Look at you—supermodel looks. Look at me—average four-eyes. Jax isn’t blind. Who do you think he really wants?” Chloe calmed down, thinking. “Me?” “Obviously! He only said I’m his girlfriend to stimulate you! He wants you to be jealous!” Chloe’s face lit up instantly. “Oh! Like in the novels! I wouldn’t confess, so he found a villainess to trigger me. Our minds are totally in sync!” Me: “…Yes. Exactly. So what’s your next move?” Chloe sighed. “I guess I should just confess.” “NO!” I yelled. “You can’t talk to him!” If they get together now, who’s going to protect me from the gym rep? And I need to survive until graduation to pay them back. Chloe frowned. “Why?” “Love is like mochi,” I improvised. “The more you beat it, the chewier it gets. If you get together too easily, it’s boring. You need obstacles to solidify the bond.” Chloe nodded, entranced. “I will sacrifice my reputation and go full evil villainess. The more I bully you, the more pained he’ll feel. The more pain, the more love. Eventually—BOOM! He’ll explode, grab you at the school gate, and force a kiss on you!” “AHHH!” Chloe stomped her feet, blushing. “Then I’ll run away crying, get hit by a car, and he’ll kneel at my hospital bed begging for forgiveness. Classic redemption arc!” I gave her a thumbs up. “Foolproof.” 03 On the way down, students stared. Chloe had already entered her “tragic heroine” era. She looked at me, eyes teary. “Maya… sorry I was mean to you before.” I immediately switched to “evil villain” mode. I sneered. “If you know you were wrong, fix your attitude. Tsk, arguing with you made me miss breakfast. Go to the cafeteria. Two meat buns, soy milk, one tea egg. No sugar in the soy milk.” Chloe glanced at Jax, bit her lip, eyes red, sniffled, and trotted downstairs to buy my breakfast. Jax craned his neck watching her go, then whispered to me. “Holy crap. How did you do that? She didn’t throw a fit?” I whispered back. “She did. But I don’t play that. I grabbed her by the hair and told her if she acts up, I’ll have you deal with her. Told her I’m the favorite now. She got scared.” Jax looked at me with pure reverence. “A true Queen walks among us.” 04 Our whispering confirmed my status as the “Big Sister.” Back in class, my desk-mate had cleaned the insults off my desk and peeled my tea egg for me. I sipped my soy milk. “Do I still need to change my shoes?” “No, no! Keep them!” she said quickly. “Authentic ones give me blisters anyway. Yours look way comfier. You have great taste.” Wow. Being the boss’s girl rocks. I finished my breakfast and studied in peace all morning. It was glorious. But by lunch, I was summoned to the homeroom teacher’s office. The bully clique was led by my desk-mate, and Mr. Higgins was her distant relative. He got his job through her family, so he usually ignored my suffering. “Maya, you’ve got some nerve!” Mr. Higgins slammed his thermos on the desk. “Openly dating? Making a scene? I thought you were a good kid, but your morals are corrupt! Call your parents. Now!” I looked distressed. “My guardian can’t come.” “Can’t come? Then you’re suspended until they can!” He shouted so loud the whole hallway heard. I walked out, defeated. My desk-mate and her friends snickered and ran off. I texted my brother, Leo. He’s three years older, in college nearby. People say the eldest brother is like a father, but Leo is also the mother. Our dad is in prison. Mom died early. We grew up in a rural village where everyone hated us because of Dad. Leo took me to the county seat, then the city. He worked odd jobs to feed me while studying. We both survived on scholarships. He hates complaining. If he says he’s “a bit busy,” it means he hasn’t slept in two days. Leo replied: A bit busy. Miss me? I’ll visit when I can. Just sent you $50. Buy those shoes you wanted. I covered my face. I couldn’t burden him. Just then, Chloe shimmied up to me. “Hey, bestie! At lunch, go sit with Jax. I’ll walk by with soup, and you push me down. Warn me to stay away from him. Genius, right?” I looked at her deadpan. “What is this crap?” Chloe: “?” “Sorry, slip of the tongue. I meant, what is this plot?” “The ‘Chase Wife Crematorium’ arc!” (A popular Chinese romance trope where the guy grovels). I was stressed about the parent meeting. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off. “That’s weak,” I grabbed her hand. “Here’s the play: Make your mom accept me as her goddaughter! I steal all your mother’s love. You lick your wounds in a corner. If Jax has any humanity, he’ll comfort you!” Chloe gasped. “Omg. You’re a genius. The layers! The drama!” “Yes! Hurry, get your mom to handle Mr. Higgins.”

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To celebrate my nephew getting into a prestigious private elementary school, my brother treated the whole family to hot pot. While we were waiting for the food, my nephew suddenly leaned way too close to the boiling broth. The burner was already on high. Worried he’d get scalded, I yanked him back to his seat. My sister-in-law, Tiffany, thought I was hitting him. She grabbed a fork and stabbed me right in the eye. Later, they dumped my bleeding body on the side of the road, where I was hit by a car and killed. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment my brother suggested hot pot. This time, I didn’t stop my nephew. You like to fidget? You like to touch things you shouldn’t? Go ahead. Burn. 1 “Yes! We got in! Our son is going to St. Jude’s Prep!” Tiffany was screaming, waving her phone in the air like she’d won the lottery. I jolted awake at the sound of her voice, my hand instinctively flying to my eye. It didn’t hurt. I could see. Wait. Was I… back? “Our son is going to be elite now! He’s going to rub shoulders with old money!” My brother, Brad, let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Everyone in the room was grinning from ear to ear. Everyone except me. “We need to celebrate big time. Let’s go get hot pot.” Just like in my previous life, Brad suggested eating out. I gripped the dishrag in my hand so hard my knuckles turned white. My eye throbbed with a phantom pain. In my last life, I died right after that meal. My nephew, Brayden, had gotten into the expensive private school via a lottery system. The whole family was ecstatic. Brad, who usually rotted on the couch gaming, insisted on a celebratory dinner. I was allowed to tag along, purely to foot the bill if needed. While waiting for the food, Brayden—who acted like he had untreated ADHD on steroids—was bouncing off the walls. I saw him leaning dangerously close to the boiling pot. Instinctively, I pulled him back. It made a noise. Tiffany, who was glued to TikTok, looked up, saw a red mark on Brayden’s wrist, and went feral. “My son does what he wants! Who are you to touch him?” She stabbed me with a fork. I was blinded instantly. They dragged me out, dumped me on the curb so I wouldn’t ruin their appetite, and went back to eating. Disoriented and blind, I stumbled into traffic. As I lay dying on the asphalt, I had one regret. I regretted saving that brat. I regretted not cutting this toxic family off sooner. But now? Now I had a second chance. “Hey! Your nephew is going to a private school. Aren’t you going to offer something, Auntie?” My mom noticed my silence. She reached out and twisted my ear, hard. “I’m giving you face here. Don’t pretend you can’t hear me.” The sharp pain snapped me back to reality. I waved my hands apologetically. “Of course not, Mom. How about I pay for the hot pot?” Mom let go, satisfied. “That’s more like it.” “I want Legos! And those new Jordans!” Brayden started jumping on the sofa, screaming. “If you don’t buy them, I’m gonna smash the TV!” “Your Auntie will buy them for you, right?” Tiffany looked at me, her eyes narrowing with a silent threat. I suppressed the hatred boiling in my gut and smiled, a sweet, plastic smile. “Whatever you want, Brayden. Auntie will buy it all.” Brad’s stomach growled loudly. “Alright, enough yapping. Let’s go eat. I’m starving.” Tiffany shot me a look of pure disdain before masking it. I caught it this time. Turns out, she didn’t love her husband as much as she pretended to, either. On the way to the restaurant, my mind raced. If I was there when Brayden got hurt, they’d blame me. I needed an alibi. In my last life, I treated them like family no matter how much they abused me. Not this time. The pain I suffered? They were going to feel every ounce of it. 2 “Get two orders of everything. Except the shrimp, make that three.” Brad ordered like a king. Looking at the menu, this meal was going to cost at least three hundred bucks. My wallet ached out of habit. Tiffany saw my hesitation. “Oh, fix your face. You look like we’re eating your life savings. It’s just a few hundred.” Mom chimed in, “My grandson is destined for greatness. In the future, people will pay thousands just to look at him. You should be honored.” Delusional. Absolutely delusional. Internally, I was screaming. Outwardly, I nodded. “Brayden won’t forget his Auntie when he’s rich, right?” Brad suddenly pointed his chopsticks at me. “Oh yeah. Tuition is twelve grand a semester. Due next week. Don’t forget.” When I didn’t answer immediately, Mom threw a chopstick at me. “He’s talking to you! You aren’t trying to wiggle out of it, are you?” Why should I pay? Mom forced me to drop out of middle school to work so Brad could go to a community college. When he graduated, I paid for his wedding. Then Brayden was born. Formula, nanny, preschool—I paid for all of it. Brad hadn’t worked a day since he got married. Hearing the demand again made my blood boil. But I kept my voice steady. “Okay. I’ll handle it.” After today, Brayden might not need tuition anymore. He might need a burn unit. The restaurant was packed. A waitress rushed over, apologizing. “Sorry for the wait, the food will be out soon.” Brayden slammed his fist on the table. He started shredding the napkins into confetti. “I want to eat! NOW!” Diners at nearby tables glared at us. Brad scowled, puffing up his chest. “Son, you’re going to a noble school soon. Don’t let these peasants look down on you.” Brayden sniffled. “But I’m hungry.” “You are royalty! In the future, you’ll book the whole restaurant! You can make whatever mess you want, and these losers will have to watch from outside!” It was so cringe-worthy I almost laughed. The people around us were whispering about “bad parenting” and “delusions of grandeur.” Spot on. It was just a private elementary school, yet Brad acted like he’d been knighted. Brayden stopped crying but started acting out. He yanked my hair. He mixed all the condiments on the table into a gross sludge. Finally, the waitress brought the pot. “I’ve turned the heat on high to get it boiling. Please be careful, do not touch the pot. It is extremely hot.” Brad and Tiffany were glued to their phones. Mom was picking her teeth. No one listened. “Okay, we got it,” I said. My hands trembled slightly under the table. Not from fear, but from anticipation. “Mom, my stomach hurts. I need to use the restroom.” Mom didn’t even look up from her Candy Crush. Before I left, I looked Brayden dead in the eye. “Brayden, listen to me. Do not touch the pot. It’s dangerous. Okay?” Brayden was a classic defiance disorder kid. Tell him no, and he’d do it twice just to spite you. Hearing my warning, his eyes lit up. He stared at the metal pot like it was a shiny toy. I saw the glint in his eyes. He was going to touch it. In my last life, I saved him. My reward? Blindness and death. If kindness kills, then I choose to be heartless. You want to touch it? Go ahead. I walked to the bathroom. I waited exactly one minute. Then, a scream pierced the air. A sound so shrill it sounded inhuman. “MY SON! BRAYDEN!” I checked my phone, composed my face, and walked out. Karma had arrived. 3 “Are you people stupid?! Why is the pot so hot?!” Mom was screaming at the waitress, spit flying everywhere. I pushed through the crowd and saw Brayden. His face and the entire right side of his upper body were lobster red. He had practically hugged the boiling metal pot. “I’m calling the police! This is attempted murder! Where is the owner?!” Tiffany was clutching Brayden. She squeezed him too tight in her panic, making him shriek in agony again. The owner rushed over. He looked at the waitress. She was sobbing. “I told them! I told them the switch was on! They didn’t listen!” “So it’s our fault?!” Mom stood up, pointing a trembling finger at the girl. “Did we force the kid to lick the pot?” No, you didn’t. But he did it voluntarily. I rushed forward, putting on my best panicked face. “Mom! What happened? Oh my god, Brayden!” “Don’t talk to me! It’s your fault! Why did we come to this restaurant? You jinxed us!” The owner frowned, trying to de-escalate. “Let’s get the child to the hospital first. I’ll cover the medical bills for now.” Tiffany screeched, “You just want to get rid of us so you can run away! I’m calling the cops! You’re going to jail for life!” The owner actually laughed. “Fine. Call the cops. Check the security cameras. Let’s see if we pushed him or if he grabbed it himself.” The word “cameras” froze them. “I’m telling you! If my son is hurt, you’re paying for it! Just you wait!” A bystander piped up. “I saw it. The lady warned the kid. The aunt warned the kid. The kid grabbed it anyway. He’s a brat, and it’s his own fault.” Brad slammed the table, eyes murderous. “Shut up! You say one more word and I’ll end you!” I didn’t want innocent people getting hurt by my rabid brother. “Tiffany! Look at his face, the blisters are forming! We need to go to the ER now!” Brayden was clawing at his melting skin, whimpering, “It hurts, it hurts…” Finally, they realized yelling wasn’t helping. They scooped him up, shouting threats at the owner as they left. “You wait! We’ll sue you into bankruptcy!” The owner crossed his arms. “I’ll be here.” It was rush hour. It took ten minutes to get a cab. In the car, Mom slapped me across the face. Hard. “You jinx! If it weren’t for you, my grandson wouldn’t be hurt!” Tiffany sobbed, eyes full of venom. “If anything happens to his face, I will kill you.” They conveniently forgot he hugged the pot of his own free will. I stayed silent. Experience taught me that arguing only made them violent. With burns that bad, Brayden was definitely disfigured. But this was just the appetizer. At the hospital, they rushed into the ER. I followed, playing the role of the silent ATM. The doctor took one look and grimaced. “Third-degree burns. Why did you wait so long to come in?” Tiffany was shaking. “Doctor, his face… will it scar?” “The burn area is huge. There’s a risk of infection and complications. We need to run a full blood panel immediately. Go to the lab.” It was a standard procedure. But Tiffany turned pale. “D-do we have to? Can we skip the blood test?” I frowned. Why was she hesitating? Her son was cooking in his own skin. Then, it clicked. Sweat on her forehead. Shifting eyes. Is Brayden… not Brad’s son? I stepped in. “Brad, the doctor is right. If we don’t treat this perfectly, he’ll have scars. The rich kids at St. Jude’s will bully him.” That hit Brad’s vanity. “Right. My son can’t be looked down on. Go. Do the test.” I ignored Tiffany’s murderous glare and grabbed the requisition form. “I’ll take him.” When the nurse handed me the results, Tiffany looked like she was about to faint. I didn’t even need to look at the paper. Her reaction confirmed it. Unfortunately, a standard CBC doesn’t always show blood type clearly to the layman, but if surgery was needed… “The burn is severe and infected. We need to do a debridement surgery immediately.” The doctor’s words made Brad scowl. “What about his face?” “We’ll worry about skin grafts later. Saving the tissue comes first.” Mom finally started crying, glaring at me through her tears. “This is all your fault! You’re paying for the surgery!” I nodded. “Okay.” I’ll pay. It’s a small price to see the look on their faces when they realize the family prince is a bastard. The surgery went well. Brayden came out wrapped like a mummy. “Mom, you guys go home and rest. I’ll stay and watch him tonight.” Mom looked at me with disgust. “Obviously you’re staying. You think we should suffer?” Once they left, I sat by the bed. I reached out and pressed my thumb firmly onto Brayden’s bandaged wound. He thrashed in his sleep, whimpering. I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh. This is how it should be. In my last life, my empathy got me killed. I waited until the nurse came to change the dressing. I made sure to look distressed. Then I texted Brad. Brad, Brayden won’t be able to do P.E. for a long time. I’m photocopying his medical records to send to the school. He didn’t reply, but I knew he saw it. He lives on his phone. The next morning, Brad and the family arrived. I handed him the stack of papers. I had arranged the pages so the blood type report was right on top. As expected, Brad glanced at it, then froze. His face turned a shade of purple I’d never seen before. He snatched the paper closer. Tiffany, oblivious, tried to cling to his arm. “Honey…” Brad threw her off. He roared, shaking the paper. “I’m blood type AB! You’re type O! How the hell is this kid Type O?!” (Author’s Note: Biologically, an AB parent cannot produce an O child). Mom froze. “What?” I stood in the corner, watching the blood drain from Tiffany’s face. Showtime. 4 Brad lost his mind. He gave Mom a look, then grabbed Tiffany by the hair and dragged her out of the ward, kicking her as they went. Mom understood immediately. She went to the front desk and discharged Brayden against medical advice. My job was to carry the boy home. He was seven, but thanks to my funding, he was obese. He weighed as much as a teenager. My arms were screaming by the time we got back. I opened the door to the sound of Tiffany wailing. “I didn’t mean to! It was just one time! I didn’t think…” Brad kicked her in the ribs. “You whore! You dare make excuses? We are divorcing today!” “Honey, you raised him for seven years! Don’t you have any feelings for him?” Tiffany hugged his leg, snot running down her face. “Get out! Take that bastard and get out!” Mom jumped in. “Wait! No!” She whispered something in Brad’s ear. I was standing right behind them. I heard every word. Mom wanted to use Brayden to scam the hot pot restaurant owner. Tiffany couldn’t hear. She thought Mom was defending her. Brad grinned, a twisted, greedy smile. “Fine. You get out. But the bastard stays.” Tiffany wasn’t stupid. She knew Brad wouldn’t treat the boy well now. “Please! Don’t hurt my son! I’m begging you!” They beat her again and threw her out the door. “Hey. Go get a banner made.” Brad kicked my shin. He showed me a picture on his phone. Text: EVIL BUSINESS KILLED MY SON. I couldn’t refuse yet. “Okay.” I went downstairs. Tiffany was still there, limping. She saw me and grabbed my arm. “I’ve always been good to you, right? Help me.” “Okay,” I said instantly. “I’ll watch out for Brayden.” She paused, surprised I agreed so fast. Then her face twisted. “If anything happens to him, I’ll drag you down with me.” Still threatening me. Just like my last life. “Don’t worry,” I smiled. “I’ll make sure he stays alive.” She limped away. I went to the print shop, then detoured to the hot pot restaurant. The owner laughed when I told him about the banner. “Thanks, kid. Don’t worry about me.” I went back home. The scene inside made me gasp. “Mom, he doesn’t look pathetic enough. Cut the bandages on the other side.” Brayden had passed out from pain. He looked like raw meat. Mom looked manic. “This is gonna get us a fortune. We’re gonna be rich.” Brad saw me staring at the boy. “The money is ours. Don’t even think about getting a cent!” I almost laughed. They hadn’t even scammed the money yet, and they were already fighting over the split. “You stay here. If you follow us, I’ll beat you to death!” Mom threatened. In my last life, she shoved a sock in my mouth to stop my screaming after my eyes were blinded. “He can’t make money if he’s blind,” Brad had said. “Useless.” They were monsters. All of them. “Okay, I’ll stay,” I said meekly. I waited until they left, then put on a hat and followed them. At the restaurant, Mom was sitting on the ground, wailing. A crowd had gathered. But the owner was ready. He had a TV screen set up outside. “Folks, look at the security footage! And look at the medical report! The kid was burned on the right side yesterday. Why is his left side bandaged today?” The crowd turned on Mom instantly. Police arrived. Mom and Brad tried to argue, but the evidence was overwhelming. The owner only paid for the initial surgery fee, nothing more. They walked home in silence, faces dark as thunder. Scam failed.

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I just finished my finals, the ink barely dry on my SAT bubbling sheet, when I blinked and woke up ten years in the future. I’m wearing my backpack, staring at a tombstone. My tombstone. The corner of my mouth won’t stop twitching. Cell service is garbage, bars flickering in and out. I rack my brain until I remember exactly one landline number. It belongs to the most depressed, anti-social, toxic-tongued pretty boy in my homeroom. The call connects fast, accompanied by the hiss of static. A voice—familiar but strange—answers. “…Babe?” I freeze. “Who?” 1 The voice on the other end pauses for half a second. “Chloe?” Okay, maybe he just mistook me for someone else. Terrified the signal would drop, I rush to speak. “It’s me. Don’t yell at me, I can’t explain right now, but if you aren’t married, don’t have a girlfriend, and happen to be free… can you come pick me up at the cemetery?” Wait. He called me “Babe” earlier. Doesn’t sound single. I backpedal hard. “Ah, haha, sorry to bother you! Actually, could you just call someone else to get me? Like Julian…” Julian. The guy I’ve been low-key crushing on. My social standing in high school was mid at best. I only kind of knew these two by accident. They count as friends, right? “…Wait for me.” It’s been—God knows how many years—but Liam is still a man of few words. I blink, staring at the screen as the call drops from bad service. Bored, I squat in front of my own grave. It hits me late: Did I just make a prank call claiming to be a zombie? I wonder how Future Me and Liam got along? He probably thinks this is a scam… His guard was always insanely high. Whatever. My legs go numb from squatting, so I hop up and sit on top of my tombstone. It’s polished to a shine, reflecting the sunlight. There’s a huge bouquet of sunflowers in front of it. They aren’t wilted yet. Someone must have visited “me” a few days ago. Guess I was popular? I swing my legs, bored out of my mind. Not long ago, I was celebrating the end of high school. Classmates were tossing papers, screaming “Freedom!” and “I’m dyeing my hair green!” I was quietly asking the teacher if I could take the leftover papers to the recycling center for cash. I wanted to buy treats for the kids at the group home. Liam had helped me pack up, silent as usual. I told him to go home early so his dad wouldn’t beat him. He bristled like a stray cat. Stood up, glared at me coldly. “None of your damn business.” And walked off. I spent hours haggling with the scrap yard guy, and finally caught the last bus before total darkness. I took a nap… and woke up here. At a graveyard. At noon. Finding out I’m dead is shocking. It’s like finding out I flunked out of high school when I was tracking for the Ivy League. …I wonder which college I got into? The sun is blinding, but my phone says it’s midnight. This phone was a gift from the group home director. Cheap, prepaid. She told me not to worry about paying her back, just to study hard. They must be freaking out that I’m missing. I sigh. “Beep-beep!” A text notification sound. Footsteps approach from behind, soft and slow up the stairs. I pivot on my butt, spinning around on the tombstone. A man in a fitted black suit crashes into my line of sight. It’s too hot, so I’ve got my school blazer over my head like a hood. I squint at him. Is that… Liam? I barely recognize him. This man is a galaxy away from the boy who cursed me out yesterday. He freezes, his pitch-black eyes locking onto mine. It seems like he stopped breathing. High school Liam was pretty—pale skin, sharp features—but gloomy. His eyes were always cold, his words poisonous. Current Liam is still good-looking, but the boyish awkwardness is gone. He’s solid, stoic, distant. He’s staring so hard I stop swinging my legs. I hop down from the tombstone. “Hi?” 2 Liam’s breath hitches. He strides forward and crushes me into a hug. My face slams into his rock-hard chest. My nose actually hurts. …When did he get so tall? Wait, if he has a partner, he shouldn’t be hugging me like this! I try to push him away, but his strength has grown with his height. I can’t budge him. Maybe he’s just excited to see a dead friend’s ghost? I let him hug me for a minute, then whisper, “I’m not interrupting anything, am I? Your dad isn’t…” No, wait. It’s been ten years. He looks successful. I correct myself. “I’m not causing trouble, am I?” He buries his face in my neck and rubs against me like a puppy. “I missed you so much.” I stiffen. This is wrong. Is this really Liam? We were “friends,” sure, but this is way too intimate. Does his partner know? I turn beet red from my ears to my toes. I smack his back. “Liam! Let go! Off, off!” He finally loosens his grip but insists on interlacing his fingers with mine. I try to shake him off. He holds tight. …Maybe Future Me and him were really close. “Doesn’t your ‘Babe’ mind us doing this?” I ask awkwardly. “?” He looks at me, then smiles. “You are my Babe.” Me: “…” What the hell did I do in the last ten years? I can’t process this. He takes my backpack. Since I sold all my books, it’s empty and light. Liam, looking like a CEO, slings my high school bag over one shoulder and holds my hand with the other. He asks zero questions about how I’m here. His acceptance level is suspiciously high. I chatter nervously as he leads me away. “What year is it?” He smiles secretly. “2035.” Damn! I really time-traveled ten years. The tombstone said “2032.” I’ve been dead for three years. …Why did I die so young? Twenty-five? That sucks. I frown. “What was my SAT score? Class rank? Which college?” “Never mind, you probably don’t remember the details. just tell me the college.” His voice is soft, melting into the wind. “1560. Top 1%. Z State University.” My eyes go wide. I grab his arm. “That good?! So I…” I stop. I see the ring on his left ring finger. It glints in the sun. I drop his hand like it’s radioactive. “Liam, you’re married?” 3 He grabs my hand back, tightening his grip. He smiles, but he looks away. “Yeah. I married my Babe.” Me: “…” Why is he so calm?! Let go of me! I don’t want to be blasted on TikTok by his wife as a homewrecker. I’m technically 18. Standing next to him, I look like his little sister, but we aren’t siblings. “Just drop me off at a bus stop,” I say, frowning. “I’ll go back…” He tightens his grip again, helping me down the stairs. “Go back where?” Anywhere but with him. “Home…” I need to check on the group home. The director might recognize me even if I’m supposed to be dead. Liam relaxes. He smiles again. “Then let’s go home.” His smiling creeps me out. The Liam I knew didn’t smile. Julian was the one who always smiled. Liam was the one who looked like he wanted to murder everyone. “Let go of my hand…” He stuffs me into the back seat of a car. He climbs in right after me. His face screams “pity me.” I choke on my words. Liam has always been stubborn. If he wants something, he’ll smash through a brick wall to get it. Now he’s looking at me with puppy dog eyes, gripping my hand. “Babe…” My scalp tingles. What is this?! Why is he calling me Babe?! Is this future slang? Who is this dog wagging its tail? I push his face away with my free hand. “Liam, chill! I know you’re excited to see your dead friend, but I just finished high school!” “And you’re married! We can’t do this!” He freezes. Just when I think I got through to him, he pulls me into a hug again. “Sorry. You probably won’t believe me, but once we get home, you’ll see.” Your home, I think blankly. How am I going to explain this to his wife? “…Mr. Lu? Are we leaving?” The driver asks, terrified. I make eye contact with the driver in the rearview mirror. The awkwardness is palpable. Great. I’ve time-traveled and immediately become a mistress. Liam holds me tight. His wedding ring digs into my skin, pricking my conscience. He gives a low “Hmm,” and the driver relaxes. Just as the engine starts, there’s a knock on the window. A man holding a massive bouquet of red roses leans down. He knocks again. He’s smiling. He looks older, but that mole under his lip is iconic. My eyes widen. “Julian?” Liam slams my face into his chest, hiding me. “Drive,” he orders coldly. “Wait! Don’t drive!” I scramble against him. “Liam, that’s Julian!” He knows I had a crush on Julian in high school. He pushes my head down again. “Drive.” I don’t want to be kidnapped to his house to be accused of adultery. I struggle and manage to hit the window button. I try to pop my head up to say hi, but Liam shoves my face into his lap. I freeze. “Well, long time no see,” Julian says. His voice is deeper, smoother. He sounds amused. “Saw you from a distance. You… you’re hiring lookalikes now?” Liam sneers. “If you have nothing to say, get lost.” “Can’t say hi to an old classmate? You’ve gotten cute again since Chloe died.” Hearing my name makes me wince. I try to move, but Liam presses down harder. Now my face is pressed against… something. I turn bright red. I want to die again. To Liam’s unknown wife: I am so sorry! Wait, Liam is the scum here. Why should I die? I wiggle cautiously. Liam groans. I freeze instantly. “Ah, my bad. Didn’t realize you were busy,” Julian laughs. No shame at all. Dude! He definitely misunderstood! Julian leans on the window, chatting casually. “Making out right outside Chloe’s grave? Trying to piss her ghost off?” The air smells like gunpowder. Liam ignores him. “Drive.” The driver hesitates. “Mr. Su… his hand is on the car…” Is everyone a “Mr. CEO” or “Mr. Heir” now? And I’m just “The Dead Girl”? “Hey, little sister,” Julian says, seemingly talking to me. “Still wearing a school uniform…” He sighs dramatically. “Don’t do this kind of work. If you need money, name your price. I’ll beat it.” Julian is still so gentle. I should go with him! I struggle free from Liam’s claws and lunge for the window. “Julian—” Julian’s pupils earthquake. He stares at my face. His smile cracks. “…How much is Liam paying you? I’ll double it. No, name any price. Will you come with me?” 4 What are they talking about?! I open my mouth to say I am Chloe, but Liam yanks me back. His face is ice cold. He glares at Julian. “If you want a substitute, go find your own. Stay away from her.” Julian chuckles, ignoring him. He pulls out a black and gold business card and flicks it at me. Liam tries to block it, but I snatch it mid-air. “If you get bored of Liam… if you want a change of pace…” Julian smiles deeply. “Call me.” I want to put it in my bag, but Liam might confiscate it. I memorize the number instantly and shove the card in my pocket. “Okay, I’ll call.” Assuming he isn’t married too. Liam is grinding his teeth beside me. I can’t believe the guy who wouldn’t talk to anyone in high school grew up to be a cheater! Men ain’t shit. “I’ll be waiting,” Julian says, dropping his eyes. My heart skips a beat. He steps back, waving, holding those roses. He doesn’t look like he’s visiting a grave. He looks like he’s waiting for a date. “Too bad these flowers aren’t for you… Next time, I’ll bring you your own.” The driver hits the gas. I tumble back into Liam’s arms. He feels warm, but his vibe is freezing. I break away easily this time and buckle my seatbelt. The car interior is luxurious. Even a broke kid like me knows this leather is expensive. I glance at Liam. He’s staring straight ahead, looking like he’s built a fortress around himself. The driver is driving like a maniac. “Liam…” He snaps his head to look at me, eyes wide with hope. “…Put your seatbelt on?” His eyes dim. He buckles up. I’m terrified of meeting his wife. I run through a dozen scenarios in my head until the car stops. I step out nervously. Liam grabs my hand again. I try to shake him off. “What are you doing?!” He purses his lips. Silence. He drags me to the elevator. Beep. He drags me to the door. Beep. I close my eyes, preparing to be yelled at by a angry wife. He lets go and pushes me gently inside. “Look.” I peek through one eye. There, on the wall, is a massive wedding photo. My eyes pop out of my head. My face catches fire. Liam stands behind me, sounding hurt. “I told you, you’re my Babe.” “Who else would I marry?” Oh my God. This is scarier than being dead. I’m eighteen. I’ve never dated. I only know the sour taste of a secret crush. And now I’m looking at this? Also… at my age… I like Julian.

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I rushed to the ER for an emergency, only to find my ex-husband on duty. He held my chart, not even bothering to look up, and sneered coldly: “Three years later, and you still can’t find a man to hold your hand while you’re sick?” I stayed silent, staring at the ceiling, trying not to scream from the pain. He continued, “Call a family member. You need surgery, and I need to discuss the procedure with your next of kin.” “And don’t try to call me. We’re divorced.” The next day. A chart-topping pop star. A billionaire CEO. A genius Formula 1 racer. Three drop-dead gorgeous men appeared in my hospital room simultaneously. They took turns grilling him about my condition and treatment plan. His eye twitched, holding back a breakdown, his eyes rimmed red as he cornered me. “You’re telling me all three of these men are your family?!” “Yup. Does the hospital have a rule against having more than three?” 1 I took an Uber to the ER over the weekend. I never expected to run into “The Ex” working the night shift. Looking at the man in the white coat, gold-rimmed glasses, and that stoic, unsmiling face… My heart hurt worse than my abdomen. We’ve been divorced for three years. I didn’t expect our reunion to look like this. Ethan Hayes stared at the clipboard, eyes glued to the paper. He ordered me onto the exam table. Then, his long, slender fingers gently pressed against my lower abdomen. “Does it hurt here? Anywhere else? Is it a cramping pain or intermittent?” I turned my head away. I didn’t want to look at him. “It feels like my insides are being twisted.” His voice was cold, drifting down from under the bright fluorescent lights. “It’s likely appendicitis. It needs to come out. But there’s an issue…” He paused. He finally looked up, taking in my pale face. He frowned. “You’re not in good shape. I suggest surgery immediately to relieve the pain.” “Where is your current husband?” When I didn’t answer, he went back to scribbling on my chart. Finally, he looked me dead in the eye, his voice dripping with icy sarcasm. “Three years later, Maya. Did you really fail to find a single man willing to accompany you to the hospital?” I stayed silent, the pain forcing me to stare at the ceiling tiles. He scoffed. “No need to play dead. This is standard protocol. Get a family member here. You need surgery, and I need to clear the plan with them.” “And don’t try to list me. We are divorced.” I finally couldn’t hold it back. “Seriously, Ethan? Three years and you’ve only gotten more narcissistic? I’d date a literal garbage can before I’d crawl back to you.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I didn’t even get the satisfaction of seeing his face turn green. Because the pain spiked, and I passed out cold. Appendicitis isn’t a disease, but man, it hurts like hell. 2 When I woke up, I was in the inpatient ward. I could hear hushed—but not hushed enough—voices buzzing nearby. “We still can’t reach her family. She’s so pitiful. She looks young, but I saw a ring on her finger. Where’s the husband?” “Who knows? Even if she has no family, what about friends? Not a single visitor. She must be a total loner.” “Hey, I saw Dr. Hayes handle her admission personally. He seemed… weird about it. You think she’s a stalker? I heard him asking about her current husband…” “Shh! Don’t be crazy. Dr. Hayes has standards. His fiancée is that heiress, Vanessa Vance. She’s his college sweetheart. Don’t drag random patients into their fairy tale.” I couldn’t take it anymore. They weren’t whispering; they were broadcasting directly into my ear canal. Just as I was about to snap, I heard Ethan’s stern voice. “Do not gossip about patients in the ward.” Great. So he was there the whole time. He let them trash me and praise him just to stroke his ego, didn’t he? Divorced for three years, and he’s still with his “white moonlight”—his precious first love? Right. She’s the heiress he practically begged me for a divorce to be with. Thinking about that rainy night, seeing their silhouettes tangled together in the doorway… I felt bile rise in my throat. Ethan walked to my bedside, his tone flat. “If you’re worried about your family seeing me and feeling awkward, I can step aside. There are other doctors on rotation. As long as—” Suddenly, a man burst through the door, panting for air. He was dressed like he was dodging paparazzi—oversized hoodie, baseball cap, face mask. But his aura screamed “celebrity.” Every head in the room turned. “No need, Doctor. I’m family. Is it convenient to discuss my wife’s condition?” Ethan whipped around to look at the newcomer, then shot a questioning glare at me. “You remarried? This guy is your husband?” I stayed silent, tilting my head as I thought about the wording. “Family, technically. We had a ceremony by the ocean.” The masked man walked up to me. Even with the mask, his peach-blossom eyes were crinkled in a smile. He looked Ethan up and down, then extended a hand. “Hi, Dr. Hayes. I’m Maya’s husband, Jax Ryder. You can run the surgery plan by me.” Ethan sized up the man who was just as tall as him. Even hidden, those eyes were undeniably pretty. This guy was a looker. Ethan’s voice dropped a few degrees. “You’re sure you’re the husband? She came in alone yesterday and fainted. As her partner, you were notably absent.” Before Jax could reply, I jumped in to cover for him. “He’s busy. His schedule is packed. I didn’t tell him.” Ethan’s lips thinned, his expression turning ugly. “What kind of job is so busy that he can’t care about his partner’s health?” “Your taste in men has really deteriorated.” I cut him off cold. “Dr. Hayes, you’re crossing a line. We are doctor and patient. That’s it.” The next second, my hand was enveloped in a warm, desperate grip. Jax pulled down his mask. A face that graced half the billboards in Los Angeles leaned in close. “Babe, don’t be mad. It’s my fault. I’m the worst.” “I called you all night and you didn’t pick up. I finished the concert and hopped on the first flight back this morning.” “Don’t fight with Dr. Hayes. If he wants to scold me, let him. As long as he doesn’t yell at you.” Jax’s voice was dripping with “pick-me” energy. He effectively made Ethan look like a bully and himself like a tragic hero. The nurses nearly screamed. “It’s actually Jax Ryder! OMG, I watched his music variety show two days ago! He’s even hotter in person! I heard rumors he was married, but I didn’t think it was true—and his wife is right here!” The gossip volume in the room cranked up to an eleven. Ethan took a deep breath, glaring at me. “Family members cannot disturb the patient’s rest.” Jax didn’t even look up. “Then get my wife a VIP suite.” Ethan: “We’re at capacity.” Jax narrowed his eyes: “Then we transfer hospitals.” Ethan gritted his teeth: “Her condition requires immediate surgery.” Sparks flew between them. The tension was thick enough to choke on. Even the nurses sensed the vibe shift. “Dr. Hayes… you seem really invested in this patient. Are you friends?” “No.” Ethan denied it instantly. 3 Hearing that denial, Jax slowly turned his head. His pretty eyes instantly filled with tears. “Boo-hoo… Wifey, is it terminal? Are you dying? Is that why you hid it from me? Did you want to break up to save me pain? I won’t allow it! We have money. We can cure anything.” “No, we’re going to Switzerland. If they can’t cure you, I’ll go with you. Romeo and Juliet style.” Seeing that he was already writing a tragic screenplay in his head, I stiffly pushed his face away. “Check your brain first. It’s appendicitis.” He blinked, tears still shimmering, and threw himself into my arms, hugging me tight. “Just appendicitis? Bad appendix! Evil appendix! I’m never talking to an appendix again!” Fighting the pain, I pinched the soft flesh at his waist. “Jax, if you don’t stop acting like a toddler, get out.” Jax had satisfied his drama quota. The nurses were practically vibrating. “He’s so handsome… honestly, he might be hotter than Dr. Hayes. And he’s so cute! They’re so in love!” Dr. Hayes, the subject of comparison, stared at Jax’s hands wrapped around me. His gaze was frigid. He dropped a stiff sentence before walking away. “Come to my office later. I need to explain the afternoon surgery.” Once Ethan was gone, Jax smirked and whispered in my ear. “Scared off the Ex-Husband. Mission accomplished.” I rolled my eyes. “So what? You better stop taking advantage of me.” I peeled his hands off my waist. Jax sat on the stool, looking wronged as he peeled an apple for me. “As your husband, am I not allowed a little touchy-feely?” I stared at the man before me and whispered a correction. “Accurately speaking, we are in a contractual relationship.” Jax’s eyes, bright as stars, shimmered. He looked like he was about to cry again. “Oh. So you really just treat me as a Contract Shifter, not a man?” 4 I rubbed my temples, looking at him. My Contract Shifter No. 1: Jax Ryder. Identity in the human world: Idol singer, debuted three years ago. He blew up overnight because of his ethereal looks and clean vocals, though he insists he’s a “serious artist.” In this world, Shifters (Beastmen) coexist with humans. But ordinary people don’t know they exist. Only a few researchers and elite families are in on the secret. My family has a… tradition. If a woman from our bloodline doesn’t have a mate by the time she’s an adult, the Family arranges three Shifters to bind to her. In plain English: If you’re 25 and single, the Family forcefully assigns you a harem of three male Shifters. They look human and have human identities. But they are bound to you. Initially, it’s a Servant Contract. Once you pick one, you can upgrade it to a Lover’s Contract. Naturally, all the males want the Lover’s Contract. A Shifter under a Servant Contract has no autonomy over their life or death. But with a Lover’s Contract? They live and die with their human. If the human dies, they die. Jax was assigned to me three years ago, right after I divorced Ethan. I knew exactly what he was doing. He’s still stuck in the Servant Contract. He’s trying to butter me up to get the upgrade. I pinched his smooth cheek with a fake smile. “If an Idol dates, his career implodes. Don’t you have any professional ethics?” “I’m a singer, not just a pretty face. My agency doesn’t ban dating. Besides… if you sign the Lover’s Contract with me, I’ll quit everything. I’ll stay home and raise the kids.” Jax said it jokingly, but his tone carried a terrifying hint of sincerity. I looked away. “Cough. I’m thirsty. Get me some water.” Jax trotted off obediently. While he was gone, nurses kept peeking in. Worried that paparazzi would catch wind of Jax and his fans would come for my head, I asked Ethan to move me to a private room. Being surrounded by people recovering from hemorrhoid surgery wasn’t exactly private. But Ethan rejected me cold. “No single rooms available. Stay or transfer.” “By the way, surgery is at 1:00 PM.” Great. He is 100% holding a grudge. Petty ex. He’s allowed to chase his Heiress First Love, but I can’t have a hot pop star boyfriend? If my other two Shifters showed up, he’d probably explode. Jax, being a busy guy, insisted on waiting until my surgery was over. His assistant had called ten times. He had a variety show recording at the local TV station tonight. The lead surgeon was Ethan. He wore a blue mask and surgical cap, revealing only his sharp brows and nose. Right before the anesthesia hit, he started “casual” small talk. “Is he good to you?” The OR went silent. He continued, pretending not to care. “A job like his… he must be busy. Can he eat dinner with you every Friday? Does he watch a movie with you every week?” My mouth twitched. “Do I have to answer that, Doctor?” Ethan’s hazel eyes dimmed. “Just chatting. Do you want coconut chicken soup later?” I almost lost it. Bro, I’m getting my appendix removed. You’re oscillating between jealous ex and catering service? I wanted to ask if he’d been possessed. But the anesthesia hit. Everything went black. Vaguely, I remembered what he meant. I chased Ethan five years ago. He was just an intern then. I used every trick in the book, pestering him until I got his number, then aggressively pursuing him for three months. I finally turned him into my boyfriend. Two years later, we got the marriage license. His job meant he was busy. But every week, he made time to eat with me. We’d walk home, pick a movie. When I fell asleep halfway through, he’d gently carry me to bed. How long did those happy days last? Less than a year and a half… When did the fighting start? I forgot. I just remember realizing Ethan didn’t love me. There’s a saying: “Women chasing men is easy, like breaking through a veil.” But between Ethan and me… there was a wall. His “First Love.”

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1 I’m living with the guy who made my high school years a living hell. When the morning light hits the room, I barely shift my arm. The arm clamped around my waist just tightens, pulling me flush against him. Sebastian buries his face in my neck, his voice rasping with that morning gravel. “Did you sleep at all last night?” I freeze for a second, then nod obediently. Before, I might have fought it. But he spent the last three weeks teaching me a very specific lesson: Submission is survival. He grabs my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine, playing with them like they’re toys. He chuckles into my hair, sounding amused. “Didn’t throw the ring away this time?” … He means the diamond on my ring finger. There were two before this. One I hid in the freezer. The other I chucked into the complex’s fountain. I don’t want to think about the consequences of those first two attempts. But the consequence of this third ring is clear: I am going to marry him. The man I fear most in this world. 2 I love shower time. It’s the only time I don’t have to look at him. The only time the memories don’t choke me. But staring into the fogged-up mirror, even the steam can’t hide the marks on my skin. My eyes are bloodshot. I stare at my reflection like a ghost. Then comes the slow, rhythmic knock. Sebastian. “Taking a while in there, Chloe.” “Come out, or I’m coming in.” … He’s done it before. No boundaries. I shut off the water instantly and wrap a towel around myself. … Breakfast is laid out perfectly, but Sebastian doesn’t have time to eat. The news is playing on the TV. He’s tying his tie with practiced, elegant movements. Catching me staring, he leans over and taps my nose. “Like the view? Maybe you can tie it for me next time.” I look away. He just chuckles, unbothered. Then, just to mess with me, he picks up my glass of milk, finds the lipstick stain on the rim, and drinks from the exact same spot. … “Be good. Wait for me.” “We’re fitting for wedding dresses tonight.” 3 Sebastian leaves. I stare at the TV for a long time. Then I pick up the glass he just drank from and hurl it at the screen. The TV screen glitches, spiderwebbing, and the glass shatters on the floor. The crash brings the maids running, gasping. I just curl up in the chair, hugging my knees, and cry. … Sebastian was my nightmare. Back in high school, he was the king of the bullies. He once threw my backpack out of a third-story window. He orchestrated the isolation. Because of him, girls dragged me into the bathroom and slapped me. No one dared to help me. Sebastian is the heir to the Shen Group. His family literally donated the library wing. He led the charge, and bullying me became the class trend. They say he was the dream guy for half the school. To me, he was the demon that kept me awake at night. And now, seven years later. He says he wants to marry me. 4 I still shake when I see him. Old habits die hard. Even after sharing a bed with him for three weeks. No one helped me. My mom found out Sebastian Shen wanted to marry me and basically thanked God. He switched cars today. This one has a spacious backseat. I hate it. The partition is up. The driver can’t see or hear what happens back here. But Sebastian is quieter today. I’m trembling. The AC is on, but I’m shaking like a leaf. He pulls me into his lap, ignoring my resistance. “Chloe, are you really that scared?” His voice is low, teasing my ear. He knows exactly why I’m like this. “We’re just picking a dress. Relax, okay?” I try to stop shaking, but a bitter laugh escapes my throat. Who would believe it? The guy who pushed me into the abyss is now whispering sweet nothings about wedding gowns. 5 The bridal shop is inside a private villa. Crystal chandeliers. Gowns that cost more than my life shimmering on mannequins. I don’t care. I don’t want to choose. I let Sebastian talk to the designer about custom fits. I let the assistants measure me like a doll. The villa has a backyard garden. I’m more interested in that. While they talk, I hike up the skirt and slip out the back door. There’s a gate past the garden. Maybe past that gate is freedom. I’ve thought about running a thousand times. But every time I work up the courage, I realize I have nowhere to go. My mom thinks I’ve hit the jackpot. She told me to stop being dramatic. I sit by the koi pond until Sebastian finds me. “Whatcha thinking about?” He’s looming over me again. High and mighty. I hold out my arm. There’s a small, circular scar on my wrist. Raised, pink skin. “Look. Your cigarette burn.” High school. One day he was in a bad mood, dragged me to a corner, and put a cigarette out on my skin. It hurt so bad I forgot what happened after. Sebastian stares at it for a long time. Then he crouches down. I hate admitting it, but his face is perfect. Like a marble statue carved by a master. If he looked at anyone with soft eyes, they’d drown in them. The Bible was right. The devil has the most beautiful face. The flame of a lighter flickers. He lights a cigarette right in front of me. I flinch, terrified he’s going to burn me again. But he doesn’t. Without breaking eye contact, he presses the lit cigarette into his own wrist. Same spot as mine. He watches the smoke rise, calm as a frozen lake. “Feel any better, Chloe?” “…” I look down. The ash mixes with fresh blistered skin. It looks agonizing. Suddenly, he pulls me into a hug. “Chloe… if only I could take some of your pain for myself.” Fireflies drift over the pond. I stare at the moonlight reflecting on the water. “Sebastian, you’re the one who gave me the pain.” He stiffens. Then, slowly, he strokes my hair. “Then let me atone for it. Okay?” “…” 6 This morning, after Sebastian left, I threw my milk at the TV again. Usually, the maids just heat up another cup and bring it to me. But today, I didn’t want it. I used to love milk. My mom always packed a carton for me in high school. Until one day. Sebastian was sitting on my desk. He loomed over me, casting a shadow. Someone laughed. Someone said, “Let’s have some fun, Sebastian.” He smiled at me and held out his hand. I handed him my milk. He unscrewed the cap. Before I could smell it, white liquid poured over my head. My nose, my collarbones, my uniform skirt. Everything was sticky and wet. I was crying. Everyone else was laughing. “Look at her. Trying to seduce him like that?” “God, Sebastian, you have weird tastes.” He wiped my cheek with his thumb, staring at me. Then he sneered. “Ugly.” … So now, I hate milk. But I hate Sebastian more. When I knocked over the second glass today, the maid almost knelt. “Miss… please just drink it…” I refused. My eyes landed on the landline. I crawled over and dialed the only number it allows. A man answered. Not Sebastian. “Miss Qin?” It was his assistant. The driver. “I need Sebastian.” “He’s in a board meeting, Miss Qin…” “I’m coming over.” I hung up. The security at the villa let me pass. I’m the future Mrs. Shen, after all. I walked straight into his corporate HQ. Up to the top floor. No one stopped me. Only when I reached the conference room did the assistant try to block me. “Miss Qin, you can wait in the lounge…” I shoved the heavy doors open. 7 Sometimes I don’t know what I want. Maybe I just want to drag someone down into the dark with me. Or maybe I want to make such a scene that he realizes I’m worthless. If I’m worthless, I don’t have to wonder if I’m savable. The room is full of middle-aged men in suits. Sebastian sits at the head of the table. He looks out of place—too young, too handsome, too cold. Forty pairs of eyes land on me. Maybe the AC is too strong. I start shaking. Then, I’m being held. It’s the first time I smell smoke on him. Cold and cruel. “When did you get here?” A second ago he was tearing into his executives. Now his voice is soft. … The meeting is paused. He carries me into his office. It’s huge. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. From up here, the people below look like ants. He looks like a god who could crush anyone. Especially me. He tosses me onto the bed in the adjoining lounge. He loosens his tie, red silk slipping through his fingers. I interrupted his meeting. He’s mad. He’s not actually that patient with me. “Missed me that much?” He plays with my hair. I stare at him blankly. “Sebastian, do you have milk?” He pauses. This is his private suite. His shirts and suits are scattered around. He goes to the mini-fridge and pulls out a carton. “We ran out at home…?” Before he finishes, I snatch it. I unscrew the cap. And I pour the entire carton over his head. He just stands there. He could have dodged. He has the reflexes. But he lets the white liquid soak his hair, his expensive suit. I look up at him. Dammit, he still looks handsome. “Sebastian. This is how you poured milk on me back then.” I say every word clearly. … I doubt anyone has ever made him look this pathetic. Milk drips down his eyebrow. He clenches his jaw. Then, he chuckles. He reaches into the fridge and grabs another carton. I don’t realize what’s happening until he unscrews the cap. My eyes go wide. The milk is ice cold. He pours it over my head. I shiver violently as it runs down my chin, into my shirt. It feels colder than I remember. … I heard the cleaning ladies gossiping once. calling me crazy. Saying I’m lucky to marry him. But Sebastian? He’s crazier than I am. He finishes pouring, then gently brushes wet hair from my cheek. “Now we’re the same.” I shove him away. “Chloe, you know it’s not good to make me angry, right?” He grabs my chin. I’m not scared of him, exactly. I just don’t want him angry. I hate the consequences. He carries me into the bathroom. The steam blurs his silhouette. “Sebastian, seven years… why did you come back for me?” My voice is hoarse. I feel like I’m dying. His answer, as always, is silence. 8 He puts me to bed. Tucks me in like a child. I haven’t slept well in days. Someone changed the sheets while we were in the shower. No scent of him. I fall asleep fast. My dreams are fragmented. High school trauma playing on a loop. Half-awake, I hear voices. Maids cleaning the room next door. “You know who that girl was? The one who crashed the meeting?” “Miss Qin. The boss’s fiancée.” “God, she has no class.” “Mr. Shen spoils her…” “Why? I’ve never seen her before a few weeks ago.” “I heard… just rumors… he found her recently.” “Because she looks exactly like his first love.” “He couldn’t get the real girl, so he settled for a dupe.”

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The Prom Queen bound herself to a “Slimming System” and chose me as her reference point. Her weight is eternally locked at exactly half of mine. When I weighed 220 pounds, she was 110. She had the perfect body, the kind everyone envied. When I dropped to 210, she was 105. She was worshipped, surrounded by endless simps. But with the prestigious Dance Conservatory Showcase coming up, she lived in constant terror that I might eat a single extra bite. So, she weaponized the entire football team. She sent her minions to humiliate me daily, hoping the trauma would starve me into shedding a few more pounds for her benefit. “I swear to God, I’m going to get skinny!” Watching me make that vow, the Prom Queen smiled like she’d won the lottery. But let’s see if she can still smile on the day I hit 110 pounds. 1 My hair was plastered to my forehead, sweat dripping into my eyes. Every time my heavy frame jiggled with a step, a group of guys would link arms and cackle as they jogged past me. “Yo, Big Bertha! Shake the ground much?” “Careful, or she’ll cause a magnitude 8 earthquake! Hahaha!” This was my daily hell. Chloe’s lapdogs. A rotation of varsity jackets and cruel mouths, ensuring I never had a moment of peace. Morning run, cafeteria, study hall—they stuck to me like gum on a shoe. One of them feigned a shove at my back. His fingers were sweaty and gross against my thin shirt. A wave of nausea and panic rose in my throat. I flinched violently, my feet getting tangled in my own clumsiness. “Whoa, easy there, tank!” Laughter exploded around me. Not far away, under the shade of an oak tree, Chloe stood watching. She looked like an angel, eyes crinkled in a sweet smile. She flashed the boys an “OK” sign. The boys scattered. Thud. I tripped over nothing and slammed into the track. The pain was instant. My knees scraped against the red rubber granules, skin tearing open. Blood mixed with dirt. I lay there, sprawling and pathetic, too heavy to push myself up immediately. The wind slapped my face as other students ran by. No one stopped. No one helped. Instead, someone shouted, “Fatty hit the deck! Tsunami warning!” The track field erupted. “AHAHAHAHA!” I sat there as the wind picked up dead leaves around me. I felt like a piece of discarded trash in the middle of the lane. Staring at their retreating backs, I screamed the only thing I could think of. “I’m going to lose weight! I swear!” Chloe’s footsteps paused. She turned slowly, looking down at me from a distance. Her eyes didn’t hold pity. They held the gleam of a plan falling perfectly into place. 2 I discovered Chloe’s secret a week ago. It was school physicals day. Chloe weighed in at 105 lbs. The dance instructor told her, “If you lose another five pounds, you’ll be camera-perfect for the showcase.” I was walking past the equipment room when I heard her complaining to her childhood friend—and our class Quarterback—Brad. “I need to lose more… but that damn cow eats so much, how am I supposed to drop weight?” Cow? The insult made me freeze. I pressed my ear to the door. In the conversation that followed, my world tilted. A year ago, Chloe got a “Slimming System.” She designated me as the anchor. Her weight would always be exactly 50% of mine. Because I hovered around 200 lbs, she stayed a perfect 100. Even if my weight fluctuated, she stayed in that golden 90-110 range without lifting a finger. But there was a catch. She couldn’t control it directly. It was like a blind box. Two weeks ago, on my birthday, I decided to treat myself. I binged for two weeks and gained ten pounds. Chloe complained to Brad that she’d suddenly developed a “muffin top.” Recently, due to the bullying, I’d been skipping meals. I lost weight. Chloe lost weight. Now, she needed to lose 5 lbs. That meant I needed to lose 10. She could have just asked me. But she didn’t. She played dirty. Stealing my lunch tray. Spiking my water with laxatives. And getting Brad to lead the harassment campaign to shame me into starving. My blood turned to ice as I listened. She wants me to lose 10 pounds? That’s too little. I’ll give her 80. No, let’s make it a nice, round 100. When I got back to the classroom, my desk was covered in pig stickers. My textbooks were in the trash can, smelling like old banana peels. Brad stood on the podium, pointing at me. “Did you guys hear? The Whale roared on the track field! She said she’s gonna get skinny!” The class roared with laughter. “If Lily gets skinny, I’ll eat dirt!” “If she hits 110, I’ll ask her to Prom!” “Deal,” I whispered to myself. I hope you boys are hungry. 3 I started a TikTok account. Avatar: A generic fitness model. Handle: Project_Perfection. Caption: “210 lbs. Road to Redemption. 80 Days until the Showcase.” In the mirror, my oversized T-shirt hid the rolls, but my thighs were still thick as tree trunks. I downloaded a trending HIIT workout and started moving. Within minutes, I was drenched. My face was tomato red. Viewers started trickling in. “Day 1 is hell, sis. You got this.” “Don’t give up!” Of course, the trolls came too. “Ew.” “Clout chaser.” “With that build? You aren’t making any showcase. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I replied calmly: “Not dancing. Just betting.” I kept going until I collapsed on the carpet, chest heaving. Then, a comment popped up that stopped my heart. “LMAO wait, isn’t this Lily the Whale from our class? 💀” My phone blew up. Brad had found the stream. He screenshotted the most unflattering angle of me sweating and Photoshopped me into the Michelin Man. He spammed it in the class group chat. Brad: “Lily Tire Co. Built tough!” The chat exploded with “😂” reacts. Random Classmate: “@Lily Good luck on that Michelin sponsorship!” I turned off my phone and buried my face in the couch cushions. After I stopped crying, I turned the stream back on. I wasn’t quitting. Strangers were cheering for me. Why were the people I saw every day the monsters? I made a plan. Calorie deficit. Cardio. No mercy. 4:00 AM. Pitch black outside. I ran from my house to the school. I looked at the calendar on my wall before I left. Showcase: 80 Days. 4 The morning air was crisp. The world was kinder when the sun wasn’t up. The sanitation workers waved at me. The guy at the bagel shop knew me as the “early runner” and stopped trying to sell me cream cheese. I stared at the golden bagels, swallowed my saliva, bought a boiled egg, and washed it down with water. Between classes, while everyone gossiped, I was in the stairwell doing squats. My legs shook. My shirt was soaked. Chloe and her clique would “accidentally” walk by. “Wow, look at her go.” “Still gross though.” Lunchtime. Boiled chicken breast. Broccoli. No dressing. The cafeteria smelled like pizza and fries. It was torture. Boys walked past my table with trays piled high with burgers. “Hey Lily, does that cardboard taste good?” “I bet you twenty bucks she binges tonight.” “Life’s short, eat a burger, cow.” Chloe would swoop in then, playing the saint. She’d scold them gently, acting like my protector. “Guys, stop it. Lily, don’t listen to them. Skinny is beautiful.” She’d cling to my arm, terrified I’d give up and eat. I acted moved by her “kindness.” “You’re right, Chloe. I’m going to lose another ten pounds just for you.” I chugged water and threw the rest of my chicken away. Back in class, the girl in front of me was eating fried chicken. The smell of grease and spices filled my nose. I buried my head in my arms. My brain was offline. Only my nose was working. Showcase: 70 Days. 5 “20 days, 10 pounds down. That’s 0.5 lbs a day…” I was doing the math on my notepad. The paper looked like a slice of white bread to my starving eyes. At this rate, I wouldn’t hit my goal. Current Weight: 190 lbs. Goal: 110 lbs. Days left: 60. I needed to lose over a pound a day. Mr. Henderson, our homeroom teacher, slammed a ruler on my desk. “Doing math about your weight again? Look, Lily, I admit you lost a little.” The class turned to look. Some whispered that I actually looked different. “But,” Henderson sneered, “It’s just water weight. It’s genetics, Lily. You can’t fight nature. Some people are born to eat, some are born to shine.” He gestured to the front row, where Chloe sat. “Speaking of shining… I have an announcement. The lead for the school’s promo video has been selected.” “It’s Chloe!” Applause erupted. “Obvious choice.” “She’s perfect.” I looked up. Chloe basked in the adoration. She looked radiant. My 10 lb loss meant she had dropped 5 lbs. She was now 95 lbs. Perfect for the camera. “She looks even better today,” someone whispered. I leaned back to hear more. The girls behind me leaned away, wiping their desks like I was contagious. “Ugh, sweaty.”

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It had been two months since I broke up with Julian Lu, and he still hadn’t sent me a single text. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was ready to cave and apologize. But that very day, Liam Price, the school’s scholarship kid, suddenly confessed his love to me. I was about to reject him when a wall of text—like a live stream chat—flashed before my eyes: “LOL, the side character actually thinks Liam likes her.” “He just lost a bet with the female lead. He’s forced to confess.” “Poor guy. He just realized his crush is pushing him away, and now he has to get rejected by this shallow, gold-digging prom queen.” “Must be heartbroken!” “It’s okay, it’s okay! Once he gets reclaimed by the billionaire Price family in New York and becomes worth billions, our female lead will come running back!” …Wait, what? The Price family? From New York? The super rich one? Hold up! Pause the makeup session. I want this broke boy! 1 I am a gold digger. But I’m good at hiding it. Usually, I treat all my classmates equally and with kindness. Except when it comes to dating. My bottom line is non-negotiable— He has to be rich. And, of course, hot. Julian Lu was the closest thing to my ideal in my eighteen years of life. His family is loaded, old money. Rumor has it they’re second only to the Price family in New York. Of course, a family like the Prices is out of my league. Julian was arrogant, cold, and high-maintenance. I chased him for months before he finally agreed to be my boyfriend. But once we were together, he constantly complained that I wasn’t clingy or caring enough. He’d threaten to break up over anything. “Let’s just end it. You only chased me for my money anyway.” “I saw you talking to the basketball captain. Interested in him now?” “Don’t let that used McLaren fool you; it’s worthless.” “Block his number right now, or we’re done!” This happened all the time. By now, he’d practically monitored every good-looking guy in my contacts. Two months ago, Julian picked another fight. The reason? I was twenty minutes late to his birthday party. “This shows you don’t value me!” “You weren’t late to the school assembly! Am I less important to you than the principal?” “Let’s break up. We need to cool off!” Same old routine. Are they even comparable? I’m not a trust fund baby like him. I can’t just offend the principal whenever I feel like it. I was getting tired of it anyway, so I just went along with it. “Fine. Break up then.” “Don’t contact me.” 2 That day, Julian’s face went pale. He glared at me for a long time before smashing a bottle of wine worth thousands on the floor. And true to his word, he never contacted me again. Two months passed. I calmed down. Let’s face it, Julian was the ceiling of what I could reach. Who doesn’t love money? My family is average. My parents favor my younger brother and give him everything good. I want out. But I’m not smart enough. Even studying my butt off only gets me into the top 80 of my grade. My biggest asset is this face… So what if I use my looks to get ahead and satisfy my ambition? What’s wrong with that? Thinking like this made me feel better instantly. School was just letting out. Julian had been playing basketball every afternoon lately. I packed my bag and headed to the courts. I planned to intercept him, apologize, act cute, and smooth things over. But just as I reached the gym entrance, someone unexpected called my name— Liam Price. 3 Liam Price. Our school’s famous genius. Always number one in the grade. He’s 6’2″, super hot, and once narrowly beat Julian for the title of School Hottie— One of those votes came from me. No ulterior motive. Liam is just exactly my type. My Libra nature demanded fairness, so I gave him a vote. But aside from that, I had almost zero interaction with him. He kept to himself, barely speaking to anyone. Rumors said someone saw his mom scavenging for vegetable scraps at the market. Others said his dad died young, and his grandma was sick, costing tens of thousands a year in medical bills. Basically, Liam’s family was struggling. He applied for financial aid every year and worked part-time at a boba shop and a convenience store. In the cafeteria, he only bought the two cheapest veggie dishes. Even the girls wouldn’t be full on that, let alone a growing boy. Once, feeling generous, I took fifty bucks from my allowance and secretly slipped it into his pencil case. Anonymous. Now, at the gym entrance. When Liam called my name, I frowned— Did he find out about the fifty bucks? In those cliché novels, these poor but proud scholars usually have massive egos. He probably thinks I was trying to humiliate him. Is he here to pick a fight? Before I could come up with a defense, his next words stunned me. “Serena.” “I like you.” “Will you be my girlfriend?” 4 I was dumbfounded. The gym entrance was crowded. I looked back toward the basketball courts. Julian had walked out without me noticing. He must have just finished playing; sweat was dripping from his forehead. A few of his friends were around him, all looking at us with interest. They were talking loudly, not bothering to lower their voices. “Hey, isn’t that Serena, Julian’s ex?” “Ex? Watch your mouth, bro. Ex-girlfriend!” “Haha, right! Ex. Gotta say, Serena’s got backbone this time. Two months! Usually, she’d be crawling back by now.” “Did she find a rebound?” “Oof, Liam Price. The scholarship kid.” “Julian, you think she’ll say yes?” Hearing them, I felt awkward. I instinctively looked at Julian. I wanted to give him a look, tell him not to misunderstand. But he never even looked my way. He just bounced the ball, looking bored. Like he was watching something completely irrelevant to him, he smirked mockingly. “Hm?” “Why would I care? Liam’s a top student. If he likes Serena, she’s punching up.” My heart sank. Julian really didn’t like me much, did he? He only accepted me because I chased him so hard. Agreeing to break up must have been a relief for him. That’s fine. Not trying to get back together saves me some dignity. 5 Even though I wasn’t planning on getting back with Julian, I wasn’t going to say yes to Liam either. We’d spoken maybe twenty sentences in three years of high school. Starting a relationship out of nowhere seemed irresponsible to both of us. Just as I was about to reject him, a wall of text floated before my eyes— “Here it comes! The drama! The male lead confesses to the side character!” “Haha, look at her face. Does she really think Liam likes her?” “It’s just a dare he lost to the female lead. Forced confession.” “Sigh, poor guy. Just realized his crush doesn’t like him and is pushing him to someone else. Now he has to get rejected by this shallow girl.” “Must hurt!” “Don’t worry! Once he gets reclaimed by the billionaire Price family in New York, our female lead will come running back!” …What? The Price family? New York billionaires? My heart rate spiked. I knew some gossip about the Prices. Rumor had it Mrs. Price was frail and only had one child. But due to a business rivalry, that son was kidnapped at four or five. Lost. Never found. Over a decade later, despite expanding their empire, the Prices never stopped looking. The text kept scrolling. “Almost there! Three months until Liam gets found!” “The Price family is abroad right now. Once they meet the kidnapper in London and get the info, they’ll fly back immediately…” “Our boy won’t have to suffer anymore!” Three months. Okay. For someone who loves money as much as I do, how could I let a golden ticket slip away? I crinkled my eyes into a perfect smile. “Sure.” “I accept, Liam.” I was so shocked by the floating text that I didn’t notice Julian behind me. I didn’t see his face go pale or his fingers tremble.

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I was at a hot pot place when the bullfrog on the table suddenly stood up on its hind legs and spoke like a human: “Eat me and you will have good luck. Anything you want, you can get easily!” I thought it was some kind of prank by the restaurant, just laughed it off, and didn’t pay much attention. But from that day on, my luck was insane. My mother’s paralysis was completely cured, and our old family home got demolished for a redevelopment project, netting us a cool ten million. When my best friend found out, she started frantically searching for talking bullfrogs. She camped out at frog farms, blending thousands of frogs into a paste and swallowing it whole, nearly bankrupting dozens of farmers. Eventually, the owner caught her, doxxed her online, and demanded a million in damages. My best friend had a breakdown: “How expensive can a few frogs be? You guys are extorting me!” “Once I find the talking frog, I’ll have endless money!” But everyone just treated her like a psycho. After receiving a court summons, she decided everything was my fault. She hired someone to break into my house, set it on fire, and kill me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day of the hot pot. My best friend was frantically messaging me: “Which hot pot place are you at? Answer me right now!” 1 My best friend’s frantic interrogation pulled me back to reality. I realized I was covered in goosebumps. As the phantom pain of the fire faded, I realized I had been reborn. “Steph, are you deaf or something? Don’t consider me a friend anymore? I’m asking where that frog place is, not asking for money. Can’t even let me mooch a meal?” Her voice was shrill and anxious, piercing my eardrums. I knew immediately: my best friend, Bella, had been reborn too. In our past life, I tried to invite Bella out for dinner. She flaked on me, so I picked a random hot pot place. It was terrifying. The raw bullfrog the waiter just placed on the table stood up like a person the next second. “As long as you eat me, I can grant your wishes. Even the stars in the sky, I can conjure for you!” At first, I thought it was a marketing gimmick. But everyone else insisted they didn’t hear the frog speak, so I brushed it off. But the result was exactly as the frog said. My mother’s chronic illness was cured, and my life turned into a winning streak. I reached the peak of success. When Bella found out, she unleashed all her rage about missing the “lucky frog” on me. Not only did she frame me for her million-dollar debt—causing me to get stabbed by creditors late at night—but she also hired someone to loot my house and burn my family alive while we slept! Because of her, my family was destroyed. I knew exactly how crazy Bella could be. Now, she would do anything to eat that lucky frog before I could. After getting my location, Bella appeared in front of me in less than ten minutes. She walked in just as the waiter brought the skinned bullfrogs to the table. Bella had sharp eyes. She immediately spotted the one frog that looked different. She lunged forward and scooped the entire plate of raw frogs into her arms. “Sorry, Steph. You know I love bullfrog. Let me have all of these today!” Bella looked up at me, a flash of triumph and relief in her eyes. Looking at her face, remembering how she frantically stuffed raw frog into her mouth in our past life, my stomach churned. I suppressed the urge to vomit and asked, eyes red: “That’s a lot. Are you sure you can finish it all by yourself?” Hearing this, Bella thought I wanted to fight her for the food. She panicked and shielded the frogs in her arms. To avoid blowing her cover, she forced herself to calm down and comforted me: “It’s fine, Steph. I’ve been dieting for days and haven’t had a proper meal. Consider this my cheat day.” “Besides, you have that interview at the modeling agency soon. You should stick to veggies!” With that, without even cooking them, she couldn’t wait to stuff the raw frogs into her mouth. She even swallowed the uncleaned intestines, calling them “liquid gold.” Murky juices dripped from the corner of her mouth, but Bella looked ecstatic. I clenched my fists as I watched her eat every single raw frog in her arms. She still thought I achieved my success because of that frog. I couldn’t help but sneer internally. In my last life, I treated Bella like a true friend, and she murdered my entire family! Thank God for second chances. This time, I’m going to make her life a living hell. 2 When it was time to pay, the waiter handed me the bill, but Bella snatched it. “Give it to me. I’m buying.” After eating that plate of frogs, she looked even more radiant, immediately adopting a superior attitude. Knowing Bella for so many years, I knew her financial situation was a disaster. I smiled, feigning surprise: “Didn’t we agree I was treating? What money are you using?” Hearing this, she pulled out her phone and piled on the mockery: “You poor thing, using cheap perfume and knockoff bags. Why are you acting like a big shot in front of me?” “Save that little bit of money to buy your mom a wheelchair!” As if that wasn’t enough, she called the manager over on the spot: “I’m paying for everyone in the restaurant today.” “Everyone… are you sure?” The manager paused, his tone laced with disbelief. She frowned, impatiently urging him: “Duh, what are you waiting for? Careful or I’ll call corporate and complain!” The manager assumed she was some rich heiress and respectfully took her card. In an instant, everyone treated her with extreme warmth. Basking in the attention, she remembered I was standing behind her. Her smile instantly turned cold: “See that? I have plenty of money. Steph, hurry up and roll on home. Don’t embarrass me by hanging out with me anymore!” “Okay.” I nodded. The company was doing performance reviews over the next two days. There was only one spot for overseas training, and it would go to the most prepared. Career-focused as I was, I wouldn’t slack off. Mocking laughter rose behind me. I ignored it, turned around, and got into my car. The next day, Bella strolled in two hours late. She arrogantly pulled a stack of cash from her bag: “So I’m late. Here’s a year’s worth of fines in advance. Deduct it slowly. If it’s not enough, tell me and I’ll top it up!” Her blatant display of wealth scared HR into silence. Afterward, she deliberately stood next to me to announce she bought a car. Seeing the Porsche key in her hand, the office exploded. “Holy crap, that car is worth millions!” “Bella, where did you get the money? Did you win the lottery?” “So awesome, a Porsche! I remember you and Steph started interning at the same time. Guess you’re the successful one!” … She smiled: “It’s nothing, just a tool to get around. Once the assessment results are out, I’m treating everyone to dinner!” The crowd gasped, convinced she had struck it rich overnight. “Looks like Bella has the assessment in the bag too!” “For sure. Just one spot, but for our Bella, it’s a piece of cake!” Suddenly, all my colleagues were kissing her ass. Only I felt something was off. I knew Bella had zero ambition. With her meager salary, there was no way she could afford to treat everyone and buy a Porsche. Could it be… that frog really did bring insane luck? Just as I was puzzling over this, my boyfriend sent a breakup text. “Let’s break up. I’m with Bella now. You don’t deserve me.” I stared coldly at the emotionless text and laughed. In my past life, I accidentally found out that during our five-year relationship, he had been messing around with Bella for four of them. This time, he wasn’t even pretending. Fine. No need to date trash anymore. I blocked both Mark and Bella immediately. Out of sight, out of mind. 3 When the assessment results came out, everyone was shocked. The board unanimously decided to give the only overseas training spot to me. I wasn’t surprised, but I feigned shock: “Really? Me? Thank you for the opportunity! I won’t let the company down!” Bella’s face turned ugly. To save face, she pretended not to care and lifted her chin: “Steph, what are you so smug about?” “Don’t think I don’t know. With your family situation—paralyzed mom, useless dad—you think getting the spot means you have the money to go abroad?” Hearing her say this, Mark joined in the mockery: “Exactly. Once you’re abroad, you won’t even be able to afford rent. Why show off?” I looked up calmly: “I can’t afford it, but you can?” Bella, choked by my retort, became even more furious. “Of course I can afford it. You think I’m like you?” Saying this, she pulled out her phone, mysteriously made a call, and then announced smugly: “I’m happy today. I rented a yacht at the beach this weekend. Everyone is invited!” “And you, Steph. You have to come!” “I know you were always the ‘frugal model’ in our class. Don’t worry, I won’t make you split the bill.” Everyone thought I would get into a huge fight with Bella for humiliating me. But I just smiled: “Sure!” Only I knew. It had been a week since she ate the frog. But she hadn’t won the lottery, nor passed the assessment. Where was this money coming from? When I arrived at the destination on the weekend, I saw Mark and Bella waving at me from the yacht. They were decked out in haute couture from head to toe. Just the watch on Bella’s wrist was worth six figures. My colleagues crowded around her, fawning and flattering. “Bella, I knew from the start this company was too small for a big shot like you. You were bound to soar. Unlike some people who get the training spot but can’t afford to go…” “Yeah, Steph is just sour grapes!” They built her up and tore me down perfectly. Bella laughed so hard she trembled, clearly enjoying the adoration. She casually called the waiter over, who immediately brought out delicacies fit for a five-star restaurant. “Eat up, everyone! Whatever you eat today, I’m paying for. Money is no object!” Watching their cheeks puff out like toads, sauce dripping down Mark’s chin onto his collar, my stomach churned. This scene looked weird no matter how I looked at it. Seeing I hadn’t moved, Bella raised an eyebrow: “You couldn’t afford this stuff even if you worked for a month. Not eating?” I sneered and said nothing. Hope she can still laugh in a bit. Just then, a waiter walked out carrying an oversized plastic bag. Something inside was wriggling. A bullfrog poked half its body out of the bag, its pitch-black eyes staring straight at us. I suppressed the excitement in my heart and pointed blankly at the frog: “Bella, look. Does that bullfrog look like it’s standing up like a person?” “And this frog… it looks just like the one we saw at the hot pot place…” Following my gaze, she quickly spotted the frog. Her expression shifted from arrogant to stunned. Suddenly, she changed. She rushed the waiter and snatched the plastic bag. She stared straight at the bullfrog, eyes full of fanaticism: “God has favored me again! I knew I was reborn to change my destiny!” Just as Bella expertly skinned the frog and prepared to stuff it into her mouth, I grabbed her arm. She looked at me warily. I deliberately raised my voice: “What did you say, Bella? Is this the reason you got rich overnight?” The deck went silent. Everyone’s eyes focused on the frog. “Bella… is talking to the frog?” “Does eating this frog really make you rich?” Mark wiped the grease from his mouth, eyes full of greed: “So you bought a car and a house because you ate a lucky frog!” Everyone’s gaze instantly turned predatory. The next second, someone rushed up to snatch the frog from her hands. Bella, desperate, ignored everything else and shoved the frog into her mouth. Bloody slime dripped from her lips. Due to the violent struggle, the frogs in the bag scattered all over the floor. Mark grabbed a frog from the ground and swallowed it whole, alive. People started brawling, fighting to get rich. It was chaos. Suddenly, a strange man dressed oddly rushed in from the sidelines, looking nervous. Seeing the scene before him, he almost puked. He looked horrified: “What the hell are you doing?! These frogs are rejects! They’re meant to be destroyed! You can’t eat them!” 4 Everyone turned around. When the stranger saw the frogs crawling everywhere, his face went dark. Bella still had a frog leg hanging from her mouth. The man rushed up to grab the frog from her hand without a word. “I told you these frogs are inedible! Are you crazy?” Bella couldn’t handle hearing this. She thought this guy was just another person trying to steal her luck like her colleagues. Without hesitation, she slapped the stranger. “None of your business! It’s not like I’m not paying. Think I can’t afford it?” “I booked this place today, so these frogs are mine too. Why can’t I eat them?” “You poor losers have never seen money. Think I’m not offering enough? Take this and get lost! This is enough for you to live on for a month!” Saying this, she took out a thick stack of cash and smashed it into the man’s face. The man turned red with anger but stood there, hesitant: “That’s not what I mean. If you want to eat bullfrog, just tell the kitchen to prepare it properly. There’s no need to eat them raw!” “Let me take you to the hospital, miss…” Hearing this, Bella and the crowd reacted as if triggered. Mark shoved the stranger away, full of suspicion: “I think you’re just jealous of us. You see us eating frogs and about to get rich, and you’re upset, right?” The man looked incredulous: “I’m just concerned about your health! I raise bullfrogs. If eating them brought good luck, wouldn’t I know? Did you guys read too many fairy tales?” Bella didn’t believe a word of it. She suspected even more that this guy knew the secret and wanted to stop her from getting rich. She flipped the table over. Expensive liquor and dishes shattered everywhere: “Bullshit! I will have good luck!” “Don’t believe this liar, everyone! He just wants us to go to the hospital to get our stomachs pumped!” Her colleagues agreed and refused to leave. She was maniacal. She and Mark smashed everything in sight. The shop was a wreck. Seeing persuasion was useless, the chef stormed out angrily. When he returned, a man in a suit was with him. I knew him. He was the manager of this yacht rental company. He frowned at the mess but tried to maintain professionalism: “I’m sorry, miss. Since you rented our luxury yacht, the alcohol and ingredients are extremely expensive. You need to pay extra for these damages, or we will have to call the police.” Bella rolled her eyes and scoffed: “How expensive can it be?” “I’ve calculated it for you. Including the rare vintage wines you smashed, you owe an additional one million dollars.” Hearing the price, Bella and Mark froze. That amount was almost as much as the yacht rental itself. Those wines were priceless collectibles. She knew nothing about high society; how would she know their value? Seeing her silence, the manager assumed she couldn’t pay and urged: “Will that be card or…?” Bella’s phone rang, snapping her back to reality. She hung up, pulled a bank card from her bag, and threw it in the man’s face: “It’s just booze money. I have plenty. Think I can’t pay?”

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The Route 23 Night Bus has a rule: No woman named Sierra is allowed on board. Every time you ride, you have to pass a facial recognition scan before you can even drop your coins in the box. It doesn’t matter if you’re the Mayor’s daughter; the driver will throw you to the curb. Even a mother desperate to get to the hospital to see her sick child gets dragged off without mercy. I didn’t buy it. I forged an ID and hopped on, challenging the driver: “Why ban women named Sierra? This is public transit, man. Isn’t that discrimination?” The driver just smiled, a cold, thin expression. “If a Sierra is on board, everyone on this bus will be dead within three hours.” My hand tightened around the fake ID in my pocket. Chapter 1 “What’s wrong?” The driver shot me a glance. I waved my hand quickly. “Oh, nothing!” I took a seat and shook it off. There’s no way someone’s name could kill a busload of people. That’s insane. He was probably just messing with me to dodge the question. Curiosity kills the cat, but it also sells tickets. The Route 23 Night Bus had become an urban legend, a TikTok hotspot. I was just another thrill-seeker here for the ride. I closed my eyes, drifting off. Suddenly, a woman with curly red hair behind me spoke up. “How much longer to Hollow Creek? Feels like we’ve been driving forever.” I opened my eyes. Outside, it was pitch black. No streetlights. I had no idea where we were. Someone else chimed in. “Yeah, driver. Hollow Creek is the next stop. We’ve been rolling for thirty minutes.” I looked at the driver. He was gripping the wheel, his expression grim. “Are you sure none of you are named Sierra?” “No way. You checked all our IDs, didn’t you?” “Something’s wrong,” the driver growled. “One of you is lying. Whoever is named Sierra, stand up now.” My heart skipped a beat. I checked the time. Thirty minutes had passed. Hollow Creek should have been a ten-minute ride. Was the rule real? I shook my head. Impossible. “Driver, quit joking. We passed the facial scan. You think we can trick a machine?” “A Sierra has her ways!” the driver shouted, startling everyone. “Thirty minutes gone. You have two and a half hours left. If you don’t want everyone to die, confess! Or turn her in!” I was glad I came alone. But I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. “Hey! That’s Hollow Creek Station!” I pointed ahead, relieved. The redhead grabbed her bag. “Finally! You’re driving so slow today. I’m filing a complaint!” But as the bus approached the station, the driver slammed the gas pedal to the floor. “Hey! What are you doing? That’s my stop!” The redhead hammered the stop button. “Look outside! Do you really want to get off?” She looked. So did the rest of us. “Ah!” She shrieked and collapsed into the aisle. Everyone scrambled to the left side of the bus, away from the window facing the station. “Why are there so many people?” Hollow Creek flashed by. It was 9:30 PM. Usually, it’s a ghost town. Now, the platform was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with people. They stood with their heads bowed. As the bus flew past, they all snapped their heads up in unison. Their eyes glowed green. They lunged, trying to grab the bus, but we were moving too fast. “Oh my god!” I gasped, pressing my back against the glass. In that sea of green-eyed monsters… I saw myself. “Sierra?” A familiar voice. My boyfriend, Clay, was staring at me in shock. “What are you doing here?” Chapter 2 “What did you just call her?” The redhead whipped around. Her eyes went wide when she saw me. “Sierra!” “J… Jade?” I stammered. My jaw dropped. Jade was supposed to be studying abroad in Europe. She wasn’t due back until next year. What was she doing on a bus in the middle of nowhere? “Sierra?!” A guy with a buzzcut stood up. “Mr. Stone?” I was floored. My old neighbor? I stood up and looked around. My elementary school classmate, my kindergarten teacher, my high school nemesis… even an online tutor I’d used once. I knew everyone on this bus. “You called her Sierra? Is that her name?” The driver didn’t turn around, but his eyes in the rearview mirror were predatory. Clay hesitated, staying silent. But Cliff, my high school bully, lunged forward and snatched my fake ID. “Kimberly Steele? Since when do you have a fake name? You’re Sierra! Sierra Mason!” “Throw her off!” the driver roared. Everyone flinched. Since we all knew each other, they hesitated. “Come on, driver. It’s probably a coincidence. A name can’t kill people.” The door hissed open. The bus was still speeding. “I said, throw her off.” At this speed, I’d be roadkill. And with those things outside… “Don’t panic!” Clay pulled out his phone. “The next stop is Riverdale. I’ve called the cops to meet us there. Everyone just—” He froze. We all crowded around his phone. Jade covered her mouth. “We’re moving towards Hollow Creek? But we just passed it!” “GPS must be glitching,” Cliff said, pulling out his own phone. His face went pale. Everyone checked their maps. We were all showing the same thing: The bus was driving from the start terminal back toward Hollow Creek. “Decide! Or it’s too late!” the driver screamed. “It’s her! She’s the only Sierra, and she lied about it!” Cliff grabbed my arm. “Driver! Stop the bus! I’ll throw her out!” “Once the bus starts, it only stops at the station,” the driver said coldly. Cliff gritted his teeth and started dragging me toward the open door. “Are you crazy?” Clay blocked him. “That’s murder!” “She won’t die! Just get her off!” Jade pushed Cliff. “You believe this supernatural crap? If you throw Sierra off, I’m throwing you off!” “AHHHH!” A scream from the back. My kindergarten teacher was curled up in her seat, shaking violently. In the seat in front of her sat a bloody corpse. Jade gasped. “Where… where is his head?” “Rocky!!” Cliff screamed. Rocky was his best friend. “His head… and his legs… where are they?” Cliff’s eyes were bloodshot. The teacher sobbed, “I… I don’t know. He just… became like that in a blink…” Rocky’s torso, unsupported, slumped into the aisle. Missing a head. Missing both legs. Cliff turned to me, eyes wild with rage. He lunged for my throat. Chapter 3 “You’re insane!” Clay kicked Cliff away. Cliff pointed a shaking finger at me. “Sierra! It’s the name! Sierra represents the Earth! It’s burying us!” “Stop talking nonsense!” Jade yelled. “There could be a million reasons. The driver is lying!” “You don’t get it?” Cliff laughed maniacally. “The rule says ‘No Sierra’. Think about the names! Look at the dead guy! Rocky! Rock! Earth!” People started whispering. “Wait… Clay. Jade. Stone. Cliff. Even the teacher’s name is Sandy.” Cliff pointed at Rocky’s corpse. “The driver… his name is Forrest. Forrest means Wood. In the cycle of elements, Wood conquers Earth. Roots tear the earth apart. That’s why his head and legs are gone! He was ripped apart by the roots!” “It’s Hollow Creek Station!” Jade shouted, pointing out the window. The station glowed with a ghostly green light in the darkness. “Don’t stop!” she screamed. We all saw it. Among the crowd of monsters waiting at the platform, Rocky was standing in the front row. He was smiling at the bus. “AHHH!” Another scream. The teacher looked to her left. Another corpse. Headless. Legless. “Peter!” She cried. Peter… Rock. Cliff pointed at me again. “I told you! It’s the Earth names! She’s Sierra! Mountain! She’s the biggest target!” “We have two hours,” the driver said through gritted teeth. The teacher, broken by fear, rushed up with Cliff to grab me. “I’m sorry, but you have to go!” The mob mentality took over. “It’s your fault for sneaking on!” “Sorry, kid. It’s us or you.” Except for Clay and Jade, everyone closed in. “No! Stop!” I struggled, but there were too many of them. They dragged me to the open door. The wind howled like a banshee. The asphalt blurred beneath us. “Stop it!” Clay threw himself over me. Cliff punched him in the face. Clay’s head slammed into a seat back. The metal buckle on his bag gouged the upholstery. He groaned, sweat pouring down his face from the pain. “Clay!” I reached for him, but Cliff grabbed my hair. He yanked my head out the door. One shove, and I was gone. “NO!!” As I screamed, the grip on my hair vanished. Warm liquid splattered my face. I looked up. Cliff’s head… was gone. Jade hauled me back inside and shoved me into a seat. “Nobody move!” Jade stood in front of me, fierce as a lioness. “Don’t you see? Anyone who tries to kill Sierra dies!” Clay struggled to his feet, standing beside her. “You saw what happened to Cliff. If you want to try next, go ahead.” The mob hesitated. Cliff’s death might have been a coincidence, but nobody wanted to roll those dice. Jade yelled, “Think! Who made the rule? Who is driving this bus? Why are we attacking each other instead of the guy named Forrest?” The realization hit them. I sat there, gasping for air, shaking. I looked at the seat Clay had hit. The fabric cover was torn. Underneath, there was a deep scratch from his bag buckle. I reached out to touch it. I froze. There wasn’t one scratch. There were thirteen. Identical scratches. Right on top of each other. Chapter 4 Clay and Jade were arguing with the passengers, but my world had narrowed to those thirteen scratches. Clay only hit the seat once. Unless… this wasn’t my first ride. Wait. Why did I get on this bus? To challenge a rule? That sounded stupid now. I pulled the fabric cover back down, hiding the marks. I stood up and walked to the driver. “Hey. Show me your ID.” Forrest gripped the wheel, silent. “You keep saying the name ‘Sierra’ kills people. But Cliff’s theory about Wood eating Earth… that applies to you, not me.” Forrest stayed silent. “Clay! Jade! Help me!” They didn’t hesitate. They pinned the driver’s arms. I reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. ID Name: Forrest Graves. “Graves?” The passengers gasped. “Sending us to our graves…” someone whispered. “He’s the Grim Reaper!” “He’s the Wood element! He’s the one killing the ‘Earth’ passengers!” “Throw him off!” A guy rushed forward and grabbed the wheel. “I can drive! Get rid of him!” They dragged Forrest out of the seat. He didn’t fight. He just looked at me with a chilling, knowing smile. His lips moved. See you soon. I kicked him out the door. He vanished into the dark. No sound of impact. We waited. Silence. No more heads popping off. “Where are we?” Clay rubbed his head. “I feel like I blacked out.” “Look! Lights!” Streetlights flickered on. Hollow Creek Station appeared ahead. No ghosts. Just a normal, empty station. No police, though. We were stuck in a loop, but we had survived this round. “We made it!” People jumped off the bus, hugging and crying. Those who tried to kill me apologized profusely. I didn’t blame them. Survival instinct is ugly. A few locals waiting at the station looked at us weirdly. “Hey,” I called out, high on adrenaline. “It’s late. What are you waiting for?” “The 23,” one said. “Isn’t it due?” “The 23 just…” I turned around. The bus was gone. I checked my watch. 9:30 PM. The exact time I boarded. “Here it comes!” someone shouted. Headlights cut through the fog. The red LED sign read ROUTE 23. I looked at the driver’s seat. Forrest Graves was looking right at me. I collapsed onto the bench. “No… the name change wasn’t enough…” “Sierra? What are you doing?” Clay and Jade grabbed my arms. “Bus is here. Last one. Let’s go.” I looked around. The people who were just celebrating survival had reset. They were lining up like sheep. Forrest shouted the warning: “No one named Kimberly allowed! IDs out!” I understood. I stepped onto the bus. This time, I was going to break it. Chapter 5 “Name?” Forrest asked. “Marina Waters.” I stared him down. Clay and Jade looked at me, confused. I shot them a look to stay quiet. I had forged a dozen IDs to get on this bus. Marina was one of them. We were in a time loop. But I was the anomaly. I remembered. Forrest checked the ID. He paused. In Chinese philosophy, Water nourishes Wood. If Wood (Forrest) destroys Earth (Sierra/Clay/Jade), then Water (Marina) feeds him. He let me pass. I sat down and picked at the seat cover. Thirteen scratches. It all flooded back. The metal buckle. The scratch. The loop. I remembered the previous attempts. Attempts 1 through 12: Everyone died except me. Attempt 13: I changed my name to Kimberly Steele. Metal cuts Wood. I threw Forrest off the bus. We survived the ride, but time reset. We didn’t break the cycle; we just delayed the inevitable. Attempt 14: This time. Fighting him (Metal) didn’t work. Feeding him (Water) might. I looked around. Clay, Jade, Rocky, Cliff, Sandy… All Earth names. All destined to be consumed by the Forest. Except me. My real name is Sierra. Earth. But I cheated. The 12th time, I realized why I was the only survivor. He couldn’t kill me because I wasn’t technically “Sierra” when I boarded. I was using fake IDs with different elemental associations. I looked at Forrest in the mirror. He looked back and smirked.

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