The final amount of sponsorship money secured would determine the new project lead. I had hustled across half the city, bowing and scraping to countless people, and was on the verge of victory, ten thousand dollars ahead of the runner-up. But behind my back, my wealthy boyfriend invested half a million dollars in her. He said, “She’s a scholarship student. She needs this more than you do.” Fine. In that case, he could have the project. I was done with both of them. 1 The moment the project lead was announced, every eye in the room turned to me, filled with a mixture of pity and sympathy. A few of my friends had even brought a banner, ready to celebrate. Turns out, we’d popped the champagne too soon. The scholarship student, Sandra Lin, walked to the front, a look of utter shock on her face, as if she couldn’t believe such a prize had fallen into her lap. But her expression quickly changed. She turned to me, her eyes welling up. “Mia, you’re not mad, are you? I just mentioned offhand that I wanted the project, I never thought Aiden would actually take me seriously. How about… I give it to you?” I could see the challenge glittering in her eyes, clear as day. My best friend, Alice, jumped to my defense. “What a performance,” she sneered. “What are you so proud of? Aiden’s blind. He felt sorry for you and threw you a bone. It’s just one project. We don’t want your charity.” Alice knew how much this project meant to me. I had already applied to a top international university. My grades were perfect, my English proficiency score was just shy of a full nine, and this project was the final piece of my application—my stepping stone to a full-ride scholarship. Now, the project was gone. But I couldn’t lose my dignity. If I did, my status as Aiden’s “official girlfriend” would become a complete joke. Sandra looked even more wounded. “I wasn’t trying to steal it from her,” she explained, her voice trembling. “If I really wanted to compete, I would have started fundraising a month ago. I know I’m not as capable as she is, so I never even considered it. It’s just… fate, I guess. I didn’t fight for it, but in the end, it came to me.” Her words were practically begging for a slap. Almost everyone in the room had tried for this project and failed for one reason or another. Now, out of nowhere, Sandra swoops in. No proposal, no hustling—just a word to Aiden, and she had what the rest of us had worked so hard for. Someone couldn’t stand it anymore. “Didn’t fight for it? Playing the innocent little flower, are we? His actual girlfriend didn’t get a dime of his help, but all you had to do was ask, and Aiden threw hundreds of thousands at you. Who knows what you did to get it.” Sandra’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything.” I had no patience for this pathetic drama. As I turned to leave, Sandra grabbed my arm. “Don’t go!” she cried. “You have to clear my name, or they’ll think something happened between me and Aiden!” I was physically and emotionally exhausted. The filter between my brain and my mouth vanished. “Even if you slept with him,” I said, my voice flat, “it has nothing to do with me.” A collective gasp went through the room. Alice stepped forward and pushed Sandra’s hand off me. “Don’t touch her—” Before the words were even out, Sandra crumpled to the floor. Alice stared in horror. “Are you serious? Are you trying to frame me?” Sandra was sobbing now, a picture of tragic beauty, as if we were the evil side characters in her sob story, bullying the helpless heroine. Just then, a tall figure pushed through the crowd. Seeing Sandra on the ground, he shoved me violently. If Alice hadn’t caught me, I would have slammed into the corner of a table. When Sandra saw Aiden, she threw herself into his arms. “I don’t want the project anymore!” she cried. “I was just joking with you! Give the investment to Mia, please! Otherwise, she’s going to hate me forever!” Aiden finally looked up and seemed to notice me for the first time. Realizing he had just shoved me, he pushed Sandra away and rushed to my side, his eyes filled with apology as he looked me over. “I’m sorry, I was in a hurry, I didn’t see it was you. Are you okay?” 2 His hand landed on my shoulder. I felt a wave of disgust and shrugged it off. Aiden’s brow furrowed. I had never rejected his touch before. This was a first. “I’m fine,” I said coolly. “You should take care of her. I’m a little tired, I’m heading home.” He offered to take me, but I refused. Suddenly, Sandra let out a small cry. Aiden immediately turned to her. “What’s wrong?” “I think I twisted my ankle. It really hurts.” Aiden glanced back at me. “I’ll call you tonight,” he said, then scooped Sandra into his arms and left. Alice was practically vibrating with rage. She was about to charge after him and land a kick while his back was turned, but I held her back. After they left, the crowd dispersed. “Why didn’t you tear him a new one?” Alice demanded, fuming. “What’s the use? You hit him, and his family, with all their money and power, can have you thrown in jail. If they’re feeling vindictive, they can make sure you never get a job. We’re normal people, Alice. We can’t win that fight.” My voice was hollow, all the fight drained out of me. Alice deflated. “So what now? Are you going to break up with him?” “Of course. But I can’t be the one to do it.” I knew Aiden too well. He was obsessed with finding a girl who wasn’t after his family’s money, someone who loved him for him. He had spent the first three years of our four-year relationship testing me. If I broke up with him now, he’d tell everyone it was because I finally lost patience when I realized I couldn’t get his money. When I found out he’d given that huge investment to Sandra, I was heartbroken. It turned out his tests were only for me. Sandra just had to say a few words, and he handed over a fortune. My genuine affection had earned me nothing but endless suspicion. A breakup was inevitable. But I wasn’t going to let him slander my name in the process. That night, I didn’t get a call from Aiden. But I did get a wire transfer. Half a million dollars. Attached was a note: This transfer is a gift given with the intent of marriage. In the event of a breakup for any reason, the recipient must return the full amount. Looking at that money, I knew one thing for sure: my education was my only way out. I called my professor and asked if there was any other way to get a full scholarship. He sent me a file. His research project needed one more assistant. If I worked for free, he would give me a co-author credit. I accepted on the spot. For the next month, I was completely buried in work. I was so busy, my phone would often die without me even noticing. At night, I was always the last one to leave the lab. Mastering the data was difficult, and I had no choice but to work harder, to put in more hours. The way back to my dorm went through a small alley. Suddenly, I heard voices. “I’m telling you, I don’t have any money. He got me that sponsorship, but he hasn’t given me a single cent.” It was Sandra. It sounded like she was being mugged, but by people she knew. “You think we’re stupid?” a man’s voice shot back. “He’s a rich kid. We saw him take you jewelry shopping last week. He bought you that ruby necklace, the one that cost over eighty grand. If you don’t have cash, hand over the necklace. We can pawn it.” Sandra was furious. “He bought that for me to wear to his birthday party,” she hissed. “If you take it, what am I supposed to do?” “You idiot,” another man’s voice said. “Just buy a fake one to wear. He’ll never know the difference.” Sandra hesitated. The two men pressed on. “That rich kid has a girlfriend, right? She’ll definitely be at the party. You can pretend the necklace went missing and blame it on her. You’ll drive a wedge between them and get rid of the fake necklace at the same time. Two birds, one stone.” 3 After a moment’s thought, Sandra pulled a box from her bag. As she opened it, a ruby necklace glittered under the dim alley light, its fire captivating. “Make sure you get a good price for it,” she instructed. The two men snatched the necklace and walked away without another word. I ducked into the shadows as they passed. A few moments later, Sandra left, muttering curses under her breath. Long after she was gone, my mind was stuck on that necklace. It was a piece I had dreamed of, a rare and expensive design from a niche artisan. I could never afford it. I remembered looking at it in the shop window with Aiden by my side. He had been silent, his expression unreadable, his gaze fixed on me. At the time, I didn’t understand what he was thinking. My mind was consumed by the necklace, by my future. I would study abroad, get a high-paying job, and on my twenty-fifth birthday, I would buy that necklace for myself. It would be a tribute to all my hard work. After we saw the necklace, Aiden didn’t contact me for a long time. Finally, I went to find him. He was with a few of his friends. When my name came up, one of them sneered, “That girl’s a total bookworm, nothing else. You’re still with her? You’re not actually thinking of marrying her, are you? Don’t be so boring.” Aiden said nothing. Another one joked, “Dude, you spent two years trying to prove she’s a gold digger. Now that she’s not digging, you look miserable. What’s up with that?” A flash of anger crossed Aiden’s face. “I thought she was different,” he grumbled. “She hid it for two years, but she finally slipped. A couple of weeks ago, she took me to see this ruby necklace. It’s a luxury item, way out of her price range. She obviously wanted me to buy it for her. I didn’t fall for it.” His friends hooted with laughter. “See? We told you. She’s just after your money. Good thing you didn’t get played.” Just then, a girl who had been quiet spoke up. “The necklace you’re talking about, is it by a designer named K? She’s been in love with that piece for years, since junior high, I think. Her birthday wish every year was to buy it for herself with her own money on her twenty-fifth birthday.” The group fell silent. Someone tried to challenge her. “How would you know? You know her?” The girl nodded. “She was famous in our high school. Top of her class. I lived in the rich neighborhood, she lived in the old, run-down apartments. But every year, parents from my neighborhood would hire her to tutor their kids. She was never shy about her ambition. She’s an amazing person.” After she finished, no one spoke for a long time. They eventually changed the subject to break the awkward silence. Before leaving, the girl looked at Aiden. “That smug, all-knowing act you just pulled? It was disgusting. She can’t afford that necklace now, but on her twenty-fifth birthday, she will. And she won’t need you to do it.” Aiden couldn’t even look at her. I had planned to break up with him that day, but his face was just too handsome, and his apology afterwards was so sincere that I let it go. The memory faded, and tears filled my eyes. It was true. Some people could get things without any effort, things that others had to fight for their entire lives. The next day, Aiden came to find me. He was holding a bouquet of flowers. “I texted you, but you didn’t reply,” he said with a smile. “Are you busy looking for a job? If you can’t find anything, I can have my dad set you up with a position. Or, you could just marry me and be a full-time wife.” He beamed, clearly expecting me to be overjoyed. Instead, he was met with my cold, empty expression.

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The night before my engagement to the ascetic heir of the city’s elite, I dreamed of a talking weasel. It claimed to be the Shen family’s guardian spirit, worshiped for a century. In honor of my impending marriage, it had come to grant me three wishes. My heart pounded. I was about to speak when several lines of text materialized before my eyes. 【High-energy moment ahead! The imposter is about to make her wishes!】 【LOL, she has no idea she’s the fake heiress who was switched at birth. The guardian spirit only protects the true Shen bloodline!】 【Whatever she wishes for, the blessings will ultimately be transferred to the real heiress, Lily Shen.】 【Grabbing my popcorn. The female lead’s journey to a life of effortless victory is about to begin!】 I masked the ice in my eyes and offered a faint smile as I made my wishes. “I wish for the ascetic heir to cancel his engagement to the Shen family.” “I wish to be cast out of the Shen family with nothing to my name.” After hearing my words, the weasel stared at me intently. “Little one, why would you be so cruel to yourself?” I simply smiled. Cruel? Oh, this is just the beginning. 1 The night before my engagement to Julian Pei, a weasel materialized in my bedroom. “I am the guardian spirit of the Shen family, worshiped for generations. In honor of your impending marriage, I am here to grant you three wishes.” I shot upright, digging my nails into my palm. The sharp sting confirmed this was no dream. My voice trembled. “Is this real? Can you grant any wish?” “You need only speak it.” A wish for “a happy marriage with Julian” was on the tip of my tongue when the text appeared again. 【Here we go! The imposter is about to foolishly wish away her blessings.】 【She thinks she’s the chosen one, but she has no idea this is all part of the real female lead Lily Shen’s master plan.】 【The spirit protects the true Shen bloodline. This one is just some stray switched at birth.】 【The better her wishes, the more our girl Lily will gain when the truth comes out.】 The words were like a bucket of ice water, shocking me into clarity. Lily? I thought she was the daughter of our deceased nanny. Through these pop-up comments, I learned that the main character of this world was the true heiress, Lily Shen. I was merely a side character, cannon fodder meant to pave her way. She had known her true identity for ten years but had kept it hidden, waiting for this exact moment. As soon as I made my three wishes, all the honor, the education, and the marriage I had fought so desperately for would be transferred to her. My hands clenched into fists. No wonder my adoptive parents had only ever shown me endless severity, never an ounce of warmth. They said a Shen daughter must be elegant and accomplished, so they forced me through daily ballet practice. One wrong step, and the switch would fall without mercy. They said a Shen daughter must have an outstanding education, so I slept only four hours a night. One point less on an exam meant being locked in the basement for three days without food. Worse, they sent me to a special institution to be taught how to please a man. I gritted my teeth, swallowing every tear and humiliation, until I finally became the person they wanted me to be. Yet, they never offered a single word of praise. All their tenderness and indulgence were reserved for Lily. More than once, I had confronted them, my eyes red with unshed tears. They would always sigh, “This is for your own good. You are a Shen. You must be the best. Only by becoming strong enough can you have everything you want. As for Lily… she doesn’t need all this.” Only now did I understand. It wasn’t that she didn’t need it. It was that they had planned all along for me to be her stepping stone. 2 Seeing me remain silent, the weasel grew impatient. “Dilly-dallying… I’ve never seen one like you. Still haven’t decided on your first wish?” The floating text scrolled again. 【This is hilarious. She’s actually thinking about it, like a prize is just going to fall from the sky. Wishes beyond your station will backfire, you know.】 【Greedy people don’t live long. This villainess is destined for an early grave!】 A fire ignited within me. According to the spoilers, Lily would eventually take everything from me and live happily ever after with Julian. I, on the other hand, would suffer a karmic backlash for my “greedy” wishes and end up dead in a ditch. I took a deep breath and smiled. “For my first wish… I wish for the city’s ascetic heir, Julian Pei, to cancel his engagement to the Shen family.” The moment the words left my mouth, the comments exploded. 【Is she insane? Didn’t she scheme for years to get this engagement? Why cancel it?】 【How is our girl Lily supposed to get together with her dream guy now?!】 【The guardian spirit won’t grant a wish that harms the female lead’s interests, right?】 【But the rules say it can’t interfere with mortal affairs. Whatever Seraphina wishes for, it has to grant!】 Seeing that, a satisfied smile touched my lips. As long as it could be done. This engagement was, indeed, something I had fought for. But it was never something I truly wanted. The Pei family was the wealthiest in the city; every elite family was desperate to marry into it, and the Shens were no exception. But Julian’s mother, Eleanor Pei, was notoriously difficult, her standards for a daughter-in-law impossibly high. For years, no one had met her approval. To win her over, I researched her every preference. I learned she loved desserts, so I studied under a master pastry chef and delivered fresh cakes to the Pei estate every morning. I heard she had a standing appointment at a beauty salon, so I would always arrive before her to ensure everything was perfect. After three months of these “coincidental” meetings, her gaze finally softened, and she invited me to a family dinner. Even seated at that coveted table, I didn’t dare drink a sip of water. I watched her every expression, placing the dishes she desired onto her plate. My devotion paid off. The engagement was mine. But no one knew that I had zero interest in my fiancé, Julian. I had thought that if marriage was my inescapable fate, I might as well wish for a peaceful one. But now that I had a chance to change it, I had no intention of sinking into that mire. The weasel froze for a moment, then asked uncertainly, “Are you sure? Once you make this wish, your enviable engagement will truly be gone.” I met its gaze and nodded firmly. “And the other two?” it asked. I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “I haven’t thought of them yet. I’ll find you when I do.” It said no more, its form flickering before vanishing into thin air. 3 I slept soundly. At dawn, my adoptive parents woke me. “Seraphina, there will be over a hundred media outlets live-streaming the engagement party today. You cannot make a single mistake.” My mother’s voice was grave as she fastened a jade necklace around my neck. The cool stone against my skin made me wonder if last night had been a figment of my imagination. Just then, a beautifully dressed Lily walked in. Seeing her, my mother immediately rose to embrace her. “Oh, my Lily, you look so beautiful today…” Lily gently tugged on her sleeve. “Auntie Shen, don’t say that. Today is my sister’s engagement. I just don’t want to embarrass the family.” Watching their natural, affectionate display, a chill passed through my eyes. My heart remained suspended until the ceremony began. Was it really just a dream? In the next second, Julian took the microphone and announced to the entire hall, “I am canceling my engagement to Seraphina Shen! She is not the real daughter of the Shen family. Her mother was nothing more than a former nanny.” He then turned to Lily, his gaze softening. “The true heiress of the Shen family is Lily, and she is the one who should be engaged to me.” The venue erupted in an uproar. A small smile played on my lips. It wasn’t a dream. My wish had come true. 【It’s over! Lily’s plan is ruined. Even though Julian likes her, he’s a total mama’s boy. If Eleanor Pei says no, he’ll definitely back out.】 【Eleanor is so picky. There’s no way she’ll accept Lily now, with her being a total nobody.】 【It’s all Seraphina’s fault for not playing by the rules! Who wishes to cancel an engagement like that?】 【Poor Lily! Julian meant well, but he messed everything up. Our girl must be heartbroken!】 You wanted to use me as a stepping stone? Then let me take a piece of you first. The Shen family’s faces turned ashen. Lily, as if startled from a trance, quickly grabbed my arm. “Sister, don’t listen to him! I have nothing to do with him, I’ll go talk to Julian right now.” I wiped away a tear that had escaped from holding back my laughter, my voice choked with emotion. “It’s alright, Lily. You are the true heiress. You are the one who deserves to be with Julian. He likes you, too. You have my blessing.” Hearing this, Julian looked at me with a flicker of appreciation for the first time. He took Lily’s hand. “That’s right, Lily. We couldn’t be together before because of your status, but now that you’re the true Shen heiress, my mother will definitely approve!” I almost laughed out loud. The heiress title was merely an entry ticket. In Eleanor Pei’s eyes, his “perfect” Lily was likely far from qualified. As expected, Eleanor’s face was a mask of ice as she turned and left without a word. Lily was left speechless, her hand clutching Julian’s woodenly. Back at the Shen villa, my adoptive mother offered hollow comfort. “Seraphina, we never imagined you weren’t our daughter. But don’t worry. You’ve called us Mom and Dad for so many years. Nothing will change. You can continue to live here.” My father chimed in, “That’s right. Your biological parents died saving us. It’s our duty to raise you. From now on, you and Lily will be treated the same. You are both our daughters.” Even my brother, Leo, looked pleased. “From now on, I’ll have two sisters to dote on me!” I should have known. They would never let me go so easily. Fine. The show, after all, was just beginning. 4 Without my help, if Lily wanted to marry into the Pei family, she’d have to do it herself. But the Pei family’s gates were not so easily opened. She tried to see Eleanor Pei several times, only to be unceremoniously thrown out by security each time. Desperate, she began to imitate me. She forced herself to learn ballet to improve her posture, but her body was as stiff as a board. After a few days, she gave up. My mother then hired tutors for her, hoping to cram knowledge into her head. But the dense pages of English text were like hieroglyphics to her. Catching the tutor’s disdainful glance, she tore all the books to shreds. Etiquette lessons were even worse. She had to bite down on a chopstick constantly to maintain a perfect smile, and even eating required tiny, delicate bites. Finally, after another dizzy spell from hunger, she exploded. “Why are you only teaching me this now? It’s all your fault!” she shrieked, shoving my mother. Caught off guard, my mother fell to the floor, her own anger flaring. “Lily, you’re the one who refused to learn! You said you had a way to make everything Seraphina had yours! Who knew things would turn out like this?” Leo couldn’t help but point a finger at her. “You have the nerve to blame Mom? You’re useless! The same teachers taught you both. Why could that bitch learn it and you can’t?” Lily hated being compared to me. She trembled with rage. “You’re one to talk, you idiot who only got into school because Dad donated a building! Without me, you’d all be nothing!” Before she could finish, Leo lunged at her, and they began to fight. My mother pretended to break them up, but she shielded her son the entire time. I stood outside the door, quietly enjoying the drama. The next second, the door was yanked open. Lily caught the smile I hadn’t yet managed to hide, and her eyes turned vicious. “Seraphina, you knew all along, didn’t you? You deliberately made that wish to the spirit so Julian would cancel the engagement!” I looked up, feigning the perfect amount of confusion. “Sister, are you exhausted? Perhaps you’re hallucinating. There are no such things as spirits in this world.” I even tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “There, there. If you’re tired, you should rest.” Failing to get a rise out of me, Lily’s lips trembled with fury. “Fine, don’t admit it! I’ll have Dad cancel your credit cards right now. Let’s see how tough you are with no money!” She immediately called our father, her voice thick with tears. “Dad, Seraphina said that even though I’m your real daughter, you only love her. She said all the family money is hers…” My father’s roar came through the phone. “That ungrateful wretch! We are merciful enough to let her stay, and she dares to bully my daughter! Don’t cry, Lily. I’ll cancel her cards right now and teach her a lesson!” After hanging up, Lily tilted her chin smugly. “Seraphina, you better learn your place. I am the rightful heiress of this family now. If you cross me again, I’ll have you thrown out.” The comments appeared again. 【Our girl is a genius! Cut off Seraphina’s money, and she’ll have to wish for more from the spirit. Then Lily will have endless cash!】 【The Shens are so cheap. They wouldn’t even buy Lily a luxury car, talking about ‘maintaining a frugal image.’ But then they bought their son a multi-million dollar yacht. Such hypocrites!】 【Don’t worry, Lily already swapped out the real Leo ages ago~ The entire Shen fortune will be hers soon enough!】 So that was it. Lily’s primary goal was Julian. But her parents, while appearing to support her, were actually paving the way for their son, Leo. And they had no idea their precious son had been replaced. A genuine smile bloomed on my face. “Well then, dear sister,” I said gratefully, “I’ll have to count on you for that.” Lily stared, confused. “What?” I didn’t answer, simply turning and walking away. Now, it was time for my counterattack.

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The Comments know I can see them. So, to help their precious heroine escape the story’s villainous male lead, they flood my vision with messages trying to mislead me: 【The First Love has no idea, does she? If she says yes to him now, he’ll never have room in his heart for the heroine again.】 【Listen, First Love, don’t be fooled because he’s broke right now. He’s going to be a powerhouse later. You’ll be getting at least a ten-thousand-dollar allowance every month.】 【And that’s not all! He’s actually the long-lost son of the country’s richest tycoon. He gets discovered tonight! The First Love is going to regret this for the rest of her life.】 When I remain unmoved, the Comments grow frantic: 【Why isn’t this woman taking the bait?!】 I look at the man kneeling before me, proposing with all his heart, and then at the stream of nonsense scrolling above his head. A smile touches my lips. Sorry, folks. Because the only person this girl has ever trusted is herself. So, as the story’s designated villainess, a little bit of money and a serious need for control should be perfectly in character, right? 1 As the only girl born into the Thorne family in eighteen generations, my grandparents, my parents, and my eight older brothers and cousins have drilled one thing into my head since birth: You can’t trust anyone in this world. Not even us. When I was little, someone tried to kidnap me from school by impersonating my father. It was a masterful disguise. Unfortunately for him, he hadn’t accounted for the fact that my father is utterly, pathologically devoted to his daughter. Dad had already bought the school and the entire surrounding district, moving his main office onto the campus just so he could walk me to and from class every single day. The moment the imposter showed up, everyone from my teachers to the hot dog vendor on the corner swarmed and cornered him. After that, the Thorne family hid me completely, officially listing me as the daughter of our head housekeeper, Mrs. Jones. To the outside world, my name was Sarah Jones. From then on, if anyone so much as breathed in my direction, their entire life story would land on a Thorne family desk within the hour. So, as Liam Evans knelt to confess his feelings for me, I held up my phone. I wasn’t taking a picture or recording a video. I was scrolling through his complete file. As far as I was concerned, he had no secrets left. 2 “Sarah, will you be my girlfriend?” Liam held out a single wildflower he’d plucked from the roadside. He was on one knee, his eyes gleaming with what looked like pure sincerity. I’ll give him this: Liam was gorgeous, more handsome than anyone I’d ever met. And on the principle of never turning away a beautiful man who offers himself up on a silver platter, I was actually considering it. That’s when the Comments flared to life above me. 【Here we go, the classic scene where the male lead confesses to his First Love.】 【She’s about to reject him. Then he’ll find the heroine, who looks just like her, and they’ll end up in bed together tonight. The start of their whirlwind romance.】 【Honestly, the First Love is going to kick herself when she sees how successful he becomes. I kind of shipped them, though. It would be nice if they got together.】 I almost rolled my eyes. So, the second I say no, he’s off to sleep with someone else? What exactly is there to regret about dodging that bullet? I quickly scanned his file for the girl the Comments were talking about. There she was. Chloe Miller, nineteen, a freshman in college. According to the file, they’d met a month ago at a bar where Chloe was working to pay for her mother’s steep medical bills. Liam had stepped in when she was being harassed. Since then, they’d been meeting up for meals. Chloe had even started an anonymous blog detailing their encounters, filled with lovelorn posts. And Liam had “liked” it. He knew it was her. Hmm? Weren’t they supposed to meet after I rejected him? Or am I just a stepping stone in their twisted little game of foreplay? My initial attraction to Liam plummeted into the negatives. As if sensing my change of heart, the Comments doubled down: 【Even though he knows the heroine, his heart belongs completely to the First Love right now! He only sees the heroine as a little sister. He’s so devoted!】 Give me a break. He’s known Chloe for a month. He’s known me for two. What “little sister”? What “devotion”? It’s nothing but a man’s self-serving fantasy. Liam, oblivious, continued his heartfelt performance. “Sarah, I know your mom works as a housekeeper for a wealthy family, and she makes good money. But I promise, one day I’ll make even more. I’ll give you everything you could ever want.” The Comments chimed in to help him: 【Listen, First Love, don’t be fooled because he’s broke right now. He’s going to be a powerhouse later. You’ll be getting at least a ten-thousand-dollar allowance every month.】 I absently picked at the thousand-dollar manicure I’d gotten yesterday. Somehow, I doubted a deeply disturbed individual was destined for greatness. The file was… illuminating. Liam once had a cat. One evening, a guest came over, and the cat innocently rubbed against their leg. That night, Liam tortured and caged the animal. The man had a possessive streak that bordered on psychopathic. 【And he’s actually the long-lost son of a billionaire tycoon! Grab onto this golden ticket, First Love!】 【Imagine having a billionaire for a husband! You’d be set for life!】 No, thanks. You can have him. Finally, one of the Comments lost its patience: 【Why isn’t this woman taking the bait?!】 And there it was. Confirmation. They knew I could see them. From the very beginning, their words had been too targeted, too manipulative, all painting Liam as the perfect man. As a connoisseur of stories, I know that every narrative has its critics and its fans. If this guy was such a catch, why were they so desperate for me to have him instead of their precious heroine? Combined with what I knew from his file, the answer was obvious. This was a dark romance, a story of abuse and obsession. Liam was an arrogant, controlling monster. And they wanted me, the “wicked villainess,” to tie him down so he wouldn’t destroy their heroine. Nice try. Did you really think I’d fall for a bunch of ghostly text messages that appeared out of nowhere? 3 “Liam, you’re handsome and you’re brilliant. I know you have plenty of women around you, and that makes me feel insecure.” My voice was soft, laced with vulnerability. “I’m a one-man woman. I can’t tolerate anyone else in my partner’s life, or even in his heart.” I let my eyes bore into his. “If there’s even a tiny space in your heart for someone else right now, you can tell me. I’ll step aside and wish you both well.” My words weren’t just for Liam. They were for Chloe, who was hiding behind a pillar just out of sight. My family’s bodyguards had spotted her the moment Liam started his little speech. Since I’d already determined Liam was bad news, I figured I’d give Chloe a chance. A chance to step out and expose him. I refused to believe, after all those blog posts, that she didn’t know he had feelings for her. If she came forward now, I’d make sure she could live a normal life, free from all this drama. But she didn’t move. Liam just shook his head vehemently, his eyes full of unwavering devotion. And Chloe remained hidden in the shadows. Fine. If you two are so determined to star in your own twisted tragedy, I’ll be happy to direct. “Okay,” I said, my voice bright and clear. “I’ll be your girlfriend.” He’s clean, for now. Might as well enjoy the view while it lasts. 【YES! I always thought he had better chemistry with the First Love! My OTP is finally sailing!】 【I feel a little bad for the heroine, but oh well. The real deal is the real deal.】 As the Comments cheered and Liam’s face lit up with joy, a sharp clatter cut through the air. Clack! The sound of Chloe’s phone hitting the pavement startled us both. We turned to see her running away, her shoulders shaking with grief. I feigned a look of curiosity at Liam. A flicker of shock crossed his face before he quickly pulled me into an embrace. “Probably just a bystander,” he murmured into my hair. “Don’t worry. From now on, you’re the only woman in my life. If I ever look at another, may I live out the rest of my days in misery.” He pressed his phone into my hand, his gaze earnest. “You can check my phone whenever you want.” I looked at the deeply emotional man before me, and at the stream of lies still scrolling above his head. I smiled. Then, in a single, fluid motion, I discreetly attached a micro-sized listening device to the inside of his phone case. Who said Liam was the only one with control issues? You two had better hide well. This is going to be fun. 4 I have to admit, as the male lead, Liam’s looks were top-tier. And his performance in other areas… was also top-tier. The novels didn’t lie! Waking up to a face like that every morning certainly put me in a good mood. I knew these heroine-obsessed fans would never tolerate an “unclean” male lead. So, the thought of the hero and heroine eventually getting together, only for her to be haunted by the memory of his first time with me… Well, that was enough to equally traumatize the hero, the heroine, and the Comments. A win-win-win. I began to subtly keep Liam confined to the house. We were in the honeymoon phase, so he was too infatuated to notice anything was wrong. For a while, he was the perfect 24/7 boyfriend, and the Comments were busy shipping us. Their praise was fake, but who doesn’t like a little flattery? Eventually, someone couldn’t stand it anymore. It was midnight. Liam was in the shower when his phone screen lit up. A message from Chloe. “Mr. Evans, I think we need to talk.” The Comments exploded. 【This heroine is so shameless! He has a girlfriend and she’s still harassing him!】 【Exactly! His heart is completely with the First Love now. The heroine should just give up.】 【Nobody is allowed to interfere with my ship! Not even the main character!】 And yet, not a single one of them told me to delete the message. They all knew what this was about. Chloe was messaging him to borrow money. Her mother was in critical condition and needed emergency surgery. In the original story, Liam sees the message and immediately transfers the funds. The surgery fails, but Chloe uses the leftover money to start a business, beginning her “strong female lead” comeback arc. These Comments wanted her to get that money and start her new life. I toyed with Liam’s phone, a smirk playing on my lips, before popping out his SIM card. Ten minutes later, the bathroom door opened. Without a word, I hurled his phone at his chest. “You’ve got some nerve, Liam Evans,” I spat, my voice dripping with manufactured rage. Before he could react, I stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me. Standing outside, I barked orders at the household staff. “Lock him in there until he’s had time to reflect on what he’s done. Don’t let him out until he understands his mistake.” “And cut the internet. No one is to go near him without my permission.” No wonder villains in novels love staging these “misunderstandings.” This was exhilarating. The Comments, realizing Liam couldn’t get any messages out, began to panic. 【It was a one-sided message! Why is the First Love getting mad at him?】 【You can’t keep him locked up like this! You’re just a housekeeper’s daughter, you have no authority over the staff in this mansion!】 【She’s pushing her luck. According to the plot, he’s supposed to be discovered by the tycoon in the next few days. What if this makes him hate her and he falls for the heroine instead?】 Oh. But I don’t like him. Three days later, both Liam and the Comments finally made a startling discovery: I really had imprisoned him. 5 “Miss, Mr. Evans escaped through a window. Should we send a team to retrieve him?” “No need.” I wasn’t surprised. After all, I was the one who had the window unlocked. I even cleared out the guards from that section of the estate so he wouldn’t accidentally run into them. And it still took him three days. So much for the capable male lead. I frowned at the video feed on my tablet. It showed Liam finding a distraught Chloe. After a few minutes of arguing, they were clinging to each other in a tight embrace. Tsk. In my eyes, he was now tainted. The Comments were practically dripping with schadenfreude. 【See? You overplayed your hand. Now you’ve lost him.】 【Good thing it was just a hug. Go and apologize to him. He’s a romantic; a few sweet words and he’ll come running back.】 【Right! He only feels guilt for the heroine right now, no other emotions.】 I scoffed. Guilt? Was he feeling guilty for taking a shower that night? As if I didn’t know they’d been secretly texting “goodnight” to each other every evening while I was asleep. 【Text him now! Act worried! Otherwise, he’s going to get angry and send you a breakup message!】 As if on cue, a message from an unknown number popped up: “Sarah, let’s take some time apart. We both need to cool off.” I ignored it, leaning back on the sofa. “Bring them both back,” I said calmly to the empty room. Time apart? We’ll be done when I say we’re done.

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A basketball knocked me and my friend Aiden out cold. Waking up, I suddenly heard my late mother’s voice. “Sweetheart, don’t trust Aiden. He’s faking amnesia to impress Jennifer.” Stunned, I turned to Aiden as he mumbled, “Who… are you?” My mother’s voice returned, heavy with sorrow. “In another life, he left you alone in a fire to be with her. You died.” “Listen,” she urged. “Your father will ask you to pick a brother. Don’t choose Aiden. Pick Julian Shaw. He seems stern, but he’s the one who always carried your water bottle on hikes.” Before I could react, my father approached with photos of orphaned boys. “Lily, choose one. We’ll adopt him as your brother.” Without hesitation, I pointed to Julian. “I choose him,” I said softly. “I’m listening to Mom.” 1 My father stared, taken aback by my choice. “Lily, are you sure? You and Julian are usually at each other’s throats. This is a big decision. Once it’s made, he’ll be your family for life.” My dad was a big shot on the base. Whichever boy joined our family was getting a life-changing opportunity. Ms. Evans, Aiden’s distant aunt, hurried over. “Lily, dear,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. “I know Aiden’s memory is a little fuzzy right now, but you two have always been so close. Why don’t we wait a few days? I’m sure he’ll remember you then.” My mother scoffed in my head, a sound like static and fury. “What nonsense! In that other life, that little Jennifer girl ripped your favorite butterfly ribbon. You barely said a word, and Aiden locked you out in the pouring rain. You almost caught pneumonia. It was Julian who found you, shivering under the eaves. He grumbled about you being ‘so much trouble,’ but he wrapped his own coat around you.” A sharp pang of something—grief? recognition?—shot through my chest. I didn’t understand what my mom meant by “another life,” but every word she spoke felt heavy and real, clogging my heart like waterlogged cotton. Besides, it was true that Aiden always put Jennifer first. Their games of house were an exclusive club, and I was never invited. “Dad,” I said, my voice firm. “I’ve made my choice. I want Julian to be my brother.” My father tucked the photos away and ruffled my hair. “Alright, Lily. I respect your decision. In two days, I’ll host a dinner for everyone on the base to make the official announcement.” My mother’s voice sighed with relief. “That’s my girl. This time, you’re going to be safe and sound.” Later, after my dad and the other adults had left to discuss the arrangements, I changed into a sundress and slipped out of the room for some fresh air. The moment I opened the door, I saw three familiar figures standing in the hallway. They were the other boys my dad had considered adopting, all kids I played with. Aiden was with them. The only one missing was Julian. Max sidled up to me, a grin on his face. “Lily! Heard you’re picking a brother. So, who’s the lucky guy?” Finn chimed in, “Who do you think? It’s gotta be Aiden! Everyone knows Lily follows him around like a puppy, saves all her best snacks for him.” Aiden just glanced at me, his expression coolly adult. “I honestly don’t remember the last few years,” he said, a little too smoothly. “I just remember always playing with Jennifer. But if this is what the adults want, I’ll look after you.” A cold laugh echoed in my head. “That’s the exact line he used in the other life,” my mother hissed. “Playing the amnesia card so he could keep Jennifer at his side while still taking everything you gave him. That little liar broke my baby’s heart.” I looked at Aiden’s nonchalant face. If it weren’t for my mother’s warning, I would have bought his act completely. I used to trust him so much. I thought he was my real friend. I remembered my birthday three years ago. He’d gathered all the kids from the base to sing for me, his eyes sparkling as he said, “Lily, I’ll always protect you.” I’d been so moved I cried. From that day on, I was his shadow. Now I saw it. He probably only ever nice to me because of my father. And now he was faking amnesia, a convenient excuse to openly prefer Jennifer while still positioning himself to be adopted by my dad. He couldn’t have it both ways. Not this time. You little monster. I bit back the urge to expose him right then and there. Let him enjoy his little fantasy for two more days. I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he heard my father’s announcement. Seeing my silence, Max nudged me. “So? Who did you pick?” “You’ll all find out in two days,” I said flatly. I turned to leave, but Finn’s voice followed me. “Aiden, it’s definitely you. Remember when you had that fever? Lily ran through that huge storm to the clinic to get you medicine. She got totally soaked. She’d do anything for you.” “Is that so?” Aiden’s voice was laced with a smug satisfaction. “I guess she really does care about me a lot.” A sharp sting, like a needle prick to the heart. My eyes welled up, but I refused to cry. Everyone on the base knew I adored Aiden. The other kids called me his “little shadow,” but I never cared. I’d lost my own mother so young, and with my dad away on missions all the time, Aiden was the one who stood up for me when others picked on me. When he let me be his friend, I was ecstatic. I promised myself I’d be the best friend he ever had. But now I knew. His kindness was probably just a transaction, an investment in my father’s influence. “Lily, wait,” Aiden called out. I turned. He was walking toward me, holding one of Jennifer’s Barbie dolls. “Look, I know you picked me, and I’ll be your brother. But I need you to promise you won’t interfere when I’m playing with Jennifer.” I looked him straight in the eye. “You have amnesia, remember? What makes you so sure I chose you?” He frowned. “Everyone says you like me best. Who else would you pick?” A wave of fury washed over me. He knew. He’d always known how much I cared, and he was still using it, still twisting it to his advantage. “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice colder than I knew I was capable of. “I won’t bother you anymore. You and Jennifer can play all you want.” And when he finds out I chose Julian, he’ll probably be thrilled. My easy agreement seemed to throw him. He looked stunned for a second. As I walked away, he reached out instinctively to grab my arm. Just then, a small pink bicycle came wobbling erratically toward me. The front wheel slammed into my shin, sending me sprawling onto the rough concrete. My palms scraped against the ground, instantly raw and bleeding. Jennifer hopped off the bike, her face a mask of panicked tears. “Lily! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you…” Before I could say a word, my mother was already raging in my head. “That little actress! She’s always pulling this stunt! Last time, she pushed you off the swing and then cried like you were the one who bullied her. And that fool Aiden falls for it every single time!” Seeing Jennifer’s tear-streaked face, Aiden’s heart melted, just as predicted. “It’s okay, Jennifer, it was an accident. Lily won’t blame you.” He helped Jennifer up, then shot me a look of annoyance. “It’s just a scrape. Don’t be so dramatic.” My hands were on fire. I fought back tears as I pushed myself to my feet. Jennifer was still sobbing. “Lily, I’m so sorry. I was being careless. Here, I’ll hit myself to make you feel better!” She made a show of raising her hand to her own arm, but Aiden quickly caught it. He glared at me, his voice sharp with anger. “Lily, she already said she’s sorry. Can you stop being so unreasonable?” My mother was even angrier. “That little brat! My sweet girl hasn’t said a single word! It’s all that little drama queen’s performance! Sweetheart, you are not letting this go.” I always listened to my mother. I raised my hand and gave Jennifer a firm, solid shove, sending her tumbling back onto the ground. Then I turned to Aiden. “This is what being unreasonable looks like. My mother taught me that.” Jennifer sat on the pavement, stunned into silence. Aiden was speechless, his young face flushing with disbelief and rage. “Lily, you…” I raised my hand again and gave him a push, too. “And this is what it feels like to cross the line.” For as long as I’d known him, I had never, ever fought back. This had completely scrambled his world. He stared at me, his face turning a deep shade of red. “Fine. You’re really something, Lily. You started it. You’ll regret this.” “Jennifer, come on. I’ll take you to the clinic.” My mother’s voice was dripping with scorn. “He doesn’t even look at his injured friend, but he’s all worried about the one who caused the accident. Being family with a fool who can’t tell right from wrong is what you’d really regret. Oh, my poor girl, does your hand hurt terribly?” I looked down at the blood welling in my palm, and the dam of my composure finally broke. A hot wave of misery washed over me. Any other time, a scrape like this would have sent Aiden into a panic, fussing over me like I was made of glass. Maybe that concern wasn’t entirely fake, but the Aiden standing here now was blind to my pain, his world revolving only around protecting Jennifer. The things my mother was telling me… they were starting to feel terrifyingly real. Even if he did become my brother, it felt like we were already on a path to repeating the tragedy she described. 2 I wiped my tears and headed to the base clinic to get my scraped hands bandaged by one of the nurses. A few of the younger nurses were clustered by the window, looking out at the playground, so I peeked too. There, tucked behind the basketball hoop, were Aiden and Jennifer, whispering. Jennifer was tugging on Aiden’s sleeve, her voice a whiny murmur I could just barely hear. “Aiden… if Lily finds out you only pretended to have amnesia so you could play with me, she’s going to be really mad.” Aiden just ruffled her hair, his voice loud enough to carry. “So what if she gets mad? She’s obsessed with me. Even with amnesia, she’ll be begging to be my friend.” “In his dreams!” my mother seethed in my mind. “My girl didn’t choose you this time, you little narcissist. Just wait until the announcement. We’ll see who’s looking so smug then!” My face scrunched up into a pained frown. Cradling my bandaged hand, I started walking toward my classroom building. Suddenly, a scream cut through the air. “The older kids are fighting! Somebody get a teacher!” The playground dissolved into chaos. I instinctively turned to run, but one of the brawling high schoolers slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. He was swinging a broken broom handle, and it was coming right for my head. I’d learned some basic self-defense from my dad, but I was small and no match for him. I saw Aiden notice the commotion. “Aiden!” I screamed. “Help me!” He started to move toward me, but Jennifer immediately wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his back. “Aiden, I’m scared! Please don’t go!” In that single moment of hesitation, the broom handle came down, cracking hard against my arm. The fresh bandages on my hand immediately started turning red as the wounds reopened. The pain was so sharp it made my vision blur with tears. “Unbelievable!” my mother cried out, her voice frantic. “That rotten kid has faked his amnesia for so long he’s lost his conscience! My sweet girl has been so good to him, and he just stands there and watches her get hurt!” The pain made my legs feel like jelly. I could barely stay upright. I summoned my last bit of strength. “Aiden, it hurts so much! Please, help me!” Before the words were even out of my mouth, Jennifer let out a piercing shriek. The other kid in the fight was now charging toward them. Without a second thought, Aiden spun around, shielded Jennifer with his body, and ran, never once looking back. I watched their retreating figures, a cold, sharp agony piercing my chest. Even if he didn’t want to be my friend anymore, we had grown up together. When I was in danger, he wouldn’t even offer a hand to help me up?

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My cousin, Jessica, asked to borrow my $12 million Porsche, promising she just needed it for a business meeting to look impressive and would return it right away. A few days later, she ran over in a panic, guilt written all over her face, and told me the car had been stolen. I just smiled, affecting an air of indifference. “It’s fine. The car has a tracker.” Jessica’s composure shattered. “Impossible! You told me it didn’t have a tracker! You lied to me!” 1 I was in the middle of detailing my red Porsche when my phone buzzed with a video call from my cousin, Jessica. The moment I answered, her face, a carefully constructed mask of cleverness and calculation, filled the screen. “Hey, Alex!” she chirped sweetly. “Whatcha doing? Polishing your car? I have something really important I need to ask you.” “Something important?” I put down my polishing cloth and settled into a nearby chair. “Go on, what is it?” Jessica’s voice was syrupy. “Best cousin ever! Could I please, please borrow your Porsche for a few days? I have a super-duper important business dinner tomorrow, and I really need your car to make a good impression!” This wasn’t just any Porsche. It was a rare collector’s item I’d acquired from a friend overseas, worth a fortune. It wasn’t registered or plated; it was never meant for driving. It was a piece of art. I frowned, but she was already rambling on. “You know how it is, cuz! I’m still getting my business off the ground. If I pull up in a car like that, the clients will trust me more, and they’ll sign the deal!” I sighed. “Alright, you can borrow it. But you have to be incredibly careful. Not a single scratch. And I’m telling you right now, if anything—” “I swear on my life, Alex! I’ll bring it back in perfect condition!” she cut in, her promise overriding my warning. I paused, a familiar unease settling in. She had a history of “borrowing” things and conveniently forgetting to return them. “Fine. One day. It needs to be back here by tomorrow evening.” “You’re the best! You’re like my real brother!” Jessica looked like she was about to jump through the screen and hug me. “Don’t worry, Alex! I’ll return it safe and sound!” she added right before hanging up. I put down my phone and stared at the gleaming red car. Jessica’s over-the-top performance left me feeling uneasy. Something felt off. Our families lived close, in the same gated community, so it wasn’t long before she was at my door, personally driving the Porsche away. I watched from my balcony as the car disappeared down the street, my mind replaying my recent interactions with her. Just last month, she’d borrowed $20,000 from my mom for her “business,” complete with a signed IOU promising to pay it back in a month. It was six weeks later, and she hadn’t mentioned it once. I stroked my chin, my eyes fixed on the villa her family owned down the road. What was she up to now? 2 The next day, just as dusk was settling, my doorbell rang. The security camera showed it was Jessica. I buzzed her in. She walked in carrying a thermal container, dressed in a designer dress that probably cost a few thousand dollars. She was dripping with gold—earrings, necklace, bracelet, and a massive diamond ring on each hand. On her wrist was a delicate, expensive-looking watch. But the Porsche was nowhere in sight. “Alex! Mom made your favorite braised meatballs. You haven’t eaten yet, right? I brought them over for you.” Her voice sounded strained. She thrust the container into my hands like she was completing a mission. I watched her carefully, noticing how her eyes darted around, refusing to meet mine. She was already fiddling with her phone, not saying a word about the car, ready to bolt. So I brought it up myself. “Jessica, where’s my car? You said you’d have it back today.” She flinched, then turned back awkwardly. “Alex… the car… it was stolen.” “Stolen?” My voice shot up an octave. Her words were a spark on the dry tinder of my patience. “It wasn’t my fault,” she explained hastily. “I was out with clients last night, we all drank too much. The security cameras were tampered with. I even called the police this morning, but they said they couldn’t find any signs of a break-in…” She recounted the story with a disturbingly calm demeanor, as if losing a multi-million-dollar collector’s car was like misplacing a cheap t-shirt. Her casual attitude infuriated me. I stared at her, taking in every flicker of her expression. “Jessica, are you sure it was stolen? Absolutely positive?” “I’m positive! Alex, I’m telling the truth! This neighborhood is out in the middle of nowhere, not like the city with cameras everywhere. How am I supposed to find the thief? Even the police are stumped…” “I see,” I said coldly, my face hardening. “Fine. You stay in touch with the police and try to get it back. I’ll see what I can do on my end.” Jessica let out a breath of relief. She muttered a quick “sorry” and practically sprinted out the door. I closed the door and looked at the container in my hand. It was true that our area didn’t have many public cameras, but the security in our gated community was top-notch. Jessica hadn’t mentioned contacting property management, and there wasn’t a peep in the residents’ group chat. Normally, she’d raise hell in the chat if she so much as lost a dog. Something was definitely wrong. We were family, and her late father had helped my mom out years ago. Even though we’d long since repaid that debt, I couldn’t just accuse her without proof. I sat down in the living room just as my mom came out of the kitchen, calling me for dinner. “Did you lend the Porsche to your cousin?” she asked as we ate. When I nodded, she sighed. “She was really showing off last night. Ever since her father passed, that girl has become so extravagant.” “I even saw some slick-looking guy with a receding hairline ask her how much the Porsche was worth.” “Jessica told him $12 million. I was worried she’d attract the wrong kind of attention, so I jumped in and said it was a high-quality replica, only worth about fifteen grand.” “It’s always better to be modest,” Mom continued. “With her spending habits, she’s headed for trouble. I think you should get that car back as soon as possible, before it really does get stolen.” I paused, my chopsticks hovering over my bowl. Mom didn’t know the car was already “gone.” Thinking about Jessica’s behavior, an idea began to form. “Mom,” I said with a casual smile, “don’t worry about it. It was a replica. I was just using it to show off. It’s not worth much.” My mom blinked, then shot me a look. “Just eat your dinner!” After we finished, I offered to clean the kitchen so Mom could have time for her evening activities. She loved her dance class, and Jessica’s mom, my Aunt Helen, always tagged along, mostly to stay close and see what she could get from our family. I had a feeling that when they met up, my mom would probably mention that the Porsche was just a replica. 3 Late that night, I went to the secure room in my study. After entering a password and scanning my fingerprint, I opened the safe. Inside was a leather folio containing the Porsche’s international certificate of authenticity. The valuation was clearly printed: 12,000,000.00. The currency unit that followed was USD. Stamped over the numbers was the personal seal of the president of the International Association of Luxury Cars. I stared at the document, then opened my laptop and searched for Patek Philippe watch prices. I quickly found the model Jessica was wearing on their official site. It was a limited edition. Price tag: $99,000. I stroked my chin, replaying the image of Jessica walking in tonight—the designer dress, the flashy gold jewelry, and her breezy declaration that the car had been stolen. Suddenly, a message from her popped up on my phone, testing the waters: 【Cuz, my mom said your Porsche is a replica? Is that true?】 I glanced at the screen and typed back coolly: 【Of course. You think I’d forgive you that easily otherwise?】 I closed her chat and found my friend Leo’s number. 【Leo, you awake? Urgent.】 A moment later, a video call came through. “Well, well, if it isn’t the busy man himself. What’s the emergency?” I shook my head and quickly explained the situation with Jessica, the “stolen” car, and how I’d lied to everyone that my $12 million collector’s item was a cheap replica. Leo, sharp as ever, immediately understood. “So you’re trying to pass off a real car as fake to see how your cousin reacts, right?” “Haha, and I forgot to tell you, a car of that caliber always has satellite tracking. I’ll share the app with you. Just download it and you’ll see.” I nodded. Leo was a lifesaver. He was a well-known broker in the world of luxury car collecting. Owners of these cars were often reluctant to sell to outsiders, worried they wouldn’t be properly cared for. That’s where people like Leo came in. Once I got the tracking app and linked my credentials, it only took a moment to pinpoint the Porsche’s exact location. “I can’t believe the car is parked at…” Seeing the location on the map, my heart sank. After a long moment, I let out a dark laugh. Since Jessica claimed the car was stolen, I might as well play along and make her return it herself. “That’s a pretty twisted plan, my friend,” Leo said, laughing. “Alright, let me know if you need anything else. Call me anytime.” After hanging up, I opened a drawer and took out a faded photo album. In the section for my aunt’s family, I found a picture of a younger Jessica. She was smiling, holding my hand, her eyes full of innocence. She never used to lie. Now, the constant stream of deceit from her was heartbreaking. I closed the album, took out that one photo, and put the album away. I let out a deep sigh. I had been ready to let it go, but seeing the car’s current location had finally pushed me over the edge. I walked to the window and looked toward her house. “Jessica,” I murmured, “whether you pull back from the brink or end up in a cell… that’s your choice to make.”

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1 I was so broke, I was eating on someone else’s boyfriend’s dime. Using his meal card, to be precise. Then a post about me in the cafeteria went viral on the campus confessions page, and the original poster showed up in the comments to let me have it. 【Ava from CompSci, right?】 【Are you that poor? Can’t even afford your own food? Gotta use someone else’s boyfriend’s meal card?】 【How does it feel to be a homewrecker? Did you know my sister is in the HOSPITAL because of you?!】 In less than a minute, the thread exploded. 【Whoa, what’s going on??!】 【Ava is a homewrecker??】 【Hospital? Seriously? What happened?】 … “Guys, you have to see this person’s profile!” On the poster’s social media feed was a series of screenshots. 【Why? The things I give you… why do you just turn around and give them to her?】 【Does she have any idea I queued up all night to get that Pikachu keychain? How can she just take something so precious without a second thought?】 【You say it’s nothing, but it’s such a coincidence, isn’t it? That you even ended up in the same elective class…】 【You told me you were going to a conference. I waited for you all alone on Valentine’s Day, like a good girl. But my friend saw you two, alone in the conference room for a long, long time. The cake I bought tasted like ash in my mouth.】 【I felt bad that you were struggling with money, so I skipped meals to top up your card. But then I saw you hand her a bubble tea with a little heart sticker on it…】 【I’m just a normal girl. I can’t compete with a campus queen like her. Sometimes, when I see you two together, I get confused. Was my happiness the stolen thing all along?】 【If you like each other, could you just tell me?… I don’t want to be the fool. I know when to walk away…】 A collection of short, fragmented entries, like diary pages, stretching from last February until today. A full year and a month. They were soaked in a young woman’s sorrow, her tears painting a world of gray, draining the color and energy from everything. The silence in our dorm was so thick you could hear a pin drop. Mia cleared her throat. Everyone’s gaze followed hers, landing on the gray Pikachu keychain hanging from my crossbody bag. On my desk, a stack of pink bubble tea bags had accumulated. “Last Valentine’s Day…” another roommate started, her voice trailing off. Last Valentine’s Day, I had spent hours getting ready before I went out. The worst part wasn’t the flood of angry comments. It was the hesitant silence of my own friends. I saw Mia’s lips part, as if she wanted to say something, but the details in those screenshots lined up with reality, one by one, with damning precision. My phone, lying face down on my desk, buzzed. I flipped it over. The screen lit up with the two most blinding words I could imagine right now: Leo. The same Leo who gave me the keychain, who bought me bubble tea, who I was in that delicate, unspoken “something more than friends” phase with. Sunlight streamed through the high window, but not a single ray seemed to touch me. “So, you were playing me? Flirting with me while you were with her, is that it?” My tone was sharp, devoid of any warmth. The face I knew so well was now clouded with a shadow I couldn’t penetrate. His eyes darted away, the line of his jaw tight. I cut through his hesitation. “I had no idea you were seeing someone. This is on you. You need to clear this up, and then we’re done. We don’t see each other again.” “And I’m truly sorry for the pain this has caused your girlfriend.” Throughout this whole mess, I never knew she existed. If I had, I would have never, ever let things get this close. Leo and I were childhood friends. He moved away in middle school, and it was a shock to run into him again at university. I did have a crush on him, I’ll admit it. But I wasn’t desperate enough to knowingly chase after someone else’s boyfriend. This was his mess to clean up. He was the one who hid the truth, the one who blurred the lines. I laid out my terms. Leo was silent for a long moment, then slowly shook his head. “I can’t do that.” I stared at him, my focus sharpening. His expression was unyielding. “I only ever saw you as a little sister, Ava. I don’t know if I did something to make you think we were… flirting, or something.” “I’m just used to looking out for younger girls, that’s all. I never had any other intentions. This whole thing has really upset my girlfriend, and I think you need to apologize to her, in person. And from now on, I’ll definitely be keeping my distance.” His words hit me like a physical blow, my head buzzing. “What are you talking about? This is your fault. And now you’re telling me you saw me as a sister?” He shrugged, spreading his hands. “What else would it be? You’re the one who’s been misreading things all along, aren’t you?” “You were the one dropping hints about bubble tea. You begged me for a birthday gift, so I gave you the keychain because I felt bad. I never thought you’d actually accept it.” “Everyone knows I have a girlfriend. How could you not know? You told me you lost your meal card, so I lent you mine out of kindness. Then you just… never gave it back. You even made sure my girlfriend saw you using it. What was that, if not a deliberate provocation?” “I was just being polite, but you kept crossing the line. Now Abby is lying in a hospital bed, and you will apologize to her.” In that moment, I didn’t recognize the person standing in front of me. Lending me the meal card was his idea. He said he was working an off-campus job and wouldn’t need it. The money on it? I put it there myself. I’m not the kind of girl who sees romance in every friendly gesture. I know the difference between friendship and something more. But the things Leo did, the way he acted… it was textbook courting behavior. The intimate nicknames, the way his entire demeanor changed when he was with me compared to anyone else. I had always thought we were in that sweet spot, more than friends but not yet official. Call me old-fashioned, but I was waiting for him to make the first move. I never imagined the reason he hadn’t wasn’t because he was shy. It was because he couldn’t. And now, all those little moments, the sweet gestures I’d cherished during our “almost-relationship,” were being twisted and thrown back in my face as proof of my shamelessness. He claimed everyone knew about his girlfriend, but I was the one person who had been kept completely in the dark. The conversation ended disastrously. I thought he was coming to me to admit his mistake, to figure out a plan. Instead, he’d pinned everything on me. It was laughable. The next day, my world imploded. My social media was a dumpster fire of notifications. An audio recording of my conversation with Leo had been posted online, cleverly edited. They’d cut out the most critical parts of the conversation, making it sound like I was confessing to everything, confirming that I was the aggressor, the homewrecker. The victim was in the hospital. Leo, crying, had apparently received her forgiveness. He’d just “made a mistake with boundaries,” he said. The only one at fault now was me. It was me who did the seducing, me who was shameless, me who used my looks to bully other students. Once the seed of doubt was planted, everything I did was put under a microscope. The way I drank my coffee, my step count on WhatsApp, even the clothes I wore were dissected on the operating table of public morality. A group photo from a club event where I happened to be standing next to the president was now “proof” that I was a “habitual homewrecker.” Leo and Abby’s silence left me standing alone in the eye of the storm. My attempts to post clarifications were drowned out, disappearing without a ripple. The campus was buzzing with the thrill of gossip. Everywhere I went, I heard the whispers, the rumors. My social media, even my parents’ TikTok accounts, were flooded with hateful comments. Some called me a fake, a phony. Some pitied the girl whose relationship I had supposedly destroyed. Others said I looked innocent, but was probably a slut behind closed doors. They called me a bitch, a near-murderer. The insults were a barrage of daggers, and every single one seemed to have my name on it, magically swerving around Leo. I even overheard guys in the hallway muttering about how lucky he was, how he had some serious game to have two beautiful girls fighting over him. All the knives, they all found me. If things were bad outside, they weren’t much better in my dorm. Besides Mia, who still spoke to me in quiet tones, my other two roommates treated me like I was invisible. “Don’t be too hard on them,” Mia said, trying to comfort me. “It’s just a shock… They have really strong morals, you know…” I pressed my lips together. “Leo never told me he had a girlfriend.” My words felt weak, pathetic without proof. All those unspoken feelings, those shy, secret emotions, had left no trace, no evidence that could prove my innocence. I tried to contact Abby, to explain what really happened. All I got back was a message saying she was still recovering and couldn’t face me right now. Every attempt to clear my name only brought more criticism. The rumors didn’t die down; they grew, fed by a steady stream of new “evidence”—a selectively cropped chat screenshot, a misinterpreted photo—all painting me as a promiscuous villain. The whole affair reached its peak at the annual campus gala. I was the host. I was always the host. But this time, it was different. People I’d worked with for years, people I thought were my friends, avoided my eyes, their smiles strained and awkward. An invisible, suffocating pressure filled the backstage area. No one said a word, but I knew. This was my last time hosting. They hadn’t replaced me only because there wasn’t enough time to find someone else. I took a deep breath and walked onto the stage. Just as I expected, I was met with a sea of appraising stares and hushed whispers. Scrutiny, mockery. The hand holding the microphone trembled slightly. I wasn’t strong enough to stand here and pretend their words didn’t cut me. Thankfully, as the performances began, the attention on me started to fade. At nine o’clock, the gala ended. I stepped forward to deliver the closing remarks. The energy in the auditorium had mellowed, the crowd’s earlier animosity replaced by a restless impatience to leave. I forced a smile. “That concludes a wonderful evening. We’ll see you all next…” My words were cut short by an icy shock that hit me full in the face. Filthy water, mixed with leaves and cigarette butts, drenched me from head to toe. My hair was plastered to my face in dripping strands, my white formal dress stained and ruined. I didn’t have to look to know what a pathetic sight I must be. For the first time, I saw the guy who made the original post. His eyes were filled with raw, naked malice. “My sister is in the hospital, and you get to stand here, all glamorous and perfect?!” he screamed. “You vicious bitch, you don’t deserve this!” The audience, who had been shuffling towards the exits, stopped dead. Phones came out, a hundred little black lenses turning towards the stage, a hundred unblinking eyes watching this trial by public opinion. No one looked at me with pity. There were only cheers, a wave of excitement at this unexpected finale. “YES! Finally!” “She deserves it! Why should Abby be in the hospital while she’s up there under the spotlights?” “This is so satisfying!” My shock and humiliation were the spark that lit their fireworks. The hall erupted. Abby’s brother and I were both hauled into the Dean’s office. This guy, all six feet of him, was the one whose eyes turned red first. Talking about his sister, he choked up. “I just couldn’t stand it…” he sobbed. “Why should my sister suffer so much while she gets away with everything… I wanted to… I know I was a bit impulsive…” The Dean spent a long time talking to him, consoling him. His voice softened, and it seemed like they’d reached some kind of understanding. But when he left, the look he shot me was anything but forgiving. In his eyes, I deserved everything I got, and even this wasn’t enough to settle the score. Silence descended on the office again, the same heavy silence that followed me into my dorm room, into my classes. The Dean took a sip of tea. It felt like an eternity before she finally spoke. “Ultimately, you were in the wrong here, Ava. While the young man’s actions were extreme, they’re… understandable.” “Let’s just leave it at that.” She tapped her fingers on the desk, a gesture of finality. I looked up at her. “I didn’t do anything.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It is what it is. Don’t dwell on it. You young people and your messy lives.” “Because of the impact of this incident, you probably won’t be getting that scholarship. There’s nothing to be done about it.” “Give it time. The rumors will die down eventually. Just let time handle it.” She said it so calmly, but I could feel my whole body trembling. Why did everyone think this was something I just had to endure? Why was every attempt I made to tell the truth drowned by this tidal wave of gossip? The truth wasn’t what they said it was, so why was I the only one being punished? I looked at the clues I’d gathered on my phone and opened up the campus confessions submission form. A few minutes later, a new post set the campus on fire all over again. 【HUGE NEWS—This Wednesday, 3 PM, Ava will be live-streaming her confession. She will admit to being a homewrecker, kneel to apologize to Abby, and offer financial compensation.】 Watching the comment count skyrocket, my eyes narrowed. Maybe I was wrong to try and explain myself from the start. When someone throws mud at you, crouching down to wipe your skirt is the most useless thing you can do.

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The adoptive sister Chazz Kinnear raised, the one he was sworn to protect, died because of me. He knelt all night in the funeral hall, his eyes a landscape of ash and ruin, yet he still found the strength to comfort me through my own guilt-ridden tears. “It’s not your fault,” he murmured, his voice gentle. “Lily was just too reckless.” But after we were married, he imprisoned me in Lily’s underground mausoleum for seven years. There was no sound. No light. I was consumed by fear, then by hatred, until finally, I was driven to a desperate, howling madness. I bit off my own tongue. As I lay dying, Chazz’s hot tears shattered against my skin. “In the next life,” he whispered, his voice a venomous rasp, “if you dare come near Lily again, I will kill you with my own hands.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back on the day Chazz’s adoptive sister died. A sea of people was gathered on the mountaintop, waiting for the New Year’s fireworks. A frigid wind swept over the peak. I woke from the nightmare with a violent shiver. Beside me, Lily mumbled about being cold. Chazz took off his coat. In a single, fluid motion born of pure instinct, he draped it over my shoulders. … The air froze for a heartbeat. “Hmph. And you keep trying to tell me you and Clara are just friends,” Lily teased, breaking the tension with a laugh. But her eyes couldn’t hide the flicker of disappointment. “Now that my brother has a girlfriend, he’s forgotten all about me.” If only I had noticed the dangerous undercurrents of emotion between them in my past life, the three of us might have avoided such a tragic end. “Lily, don’t be silly. We’re just colleagues,” I said, shrugging off the heavy coat and wrapping it around her instead, carefully fastening each button. “It’s so dark up here, and we look a little alike. He must have mistaken me for you.” A strange fog clouded Chazz’s long, dark eyes as they settled on me. BOOM. A massive blue firework exploded against the black velvet of the sky, scattering into a shower of falling stars. The crowd roared with delight. In my past life, at this exact moment, I had been looking at Chazz. His head was bowed, his focus absolute, the corner of his lips curved into a slight smile. He was clutching his phone, his thumbs hovering over the screen, typing I love you in my chat window, only to delete it, again and again. In the end, all he sent was: Happy New Year. I’d found it both infuriating and endearing, and I’d called him out on it. He was caught red-handed, the tips of his ears blushing a deep crimson. After a bit of playful pestering, he finally gave in. He leaned close, his warm breath a whisper of pine against my neck as he quickly murmured, “I love you.” In that instant, the frantic thunder of my heart drowned out every other sound in the world. I was so lost in the moment that I never noticed Lily watching us, her expression lost and forlorn, before she turned and quietly slipped away into the crowd. In the early hours of the morning, the police called for the family to identify a body. I could barely recognize the battered, brutalized girl on the cold metal slab. It was Lily—the same Lily who, just three hours earlier, had been excitedly making plans with me to ride the carousel at the amusement park. This time, as Chazz watched the fireworks, his profile was etched in frost. Lily was still pressing him quietly. “Brother, do you really not like Clara?” BOOM. A cascade of pale pink and violet light washed over the sky. Chazz’s voice, cold and detached, cut through the noise of the crowd, each word a shard of ice piercing my heart. “I don’t.” “I could never love Clara.” Even though I had expected it, the words still stung. But it was for the best. Better to strangle all the suffering at its source. From this day forward, our paths would never cross again. I left without a sound. On the way down the mountain, I ran into Sophie, a friend from my department. “Clara!” she exclaimed, grabbing my arm. “What are you doing here alone? Where’s Mr. Kinnear?” “I… I had something to take care of, so I left early.” She stared at me, hesitating, before the words finally tumbled out. “You know tonight’s firework display? The one across the whole city? Chazz flew to Monaco and personally hired the lead designer from their international festival to replicate it, one for one.” “All because you mentioned offhand that you liked it.” The fireworks were fading, and the crowd descending the mountain grew thicker. Sophie pulled me aside, her expression one of utter exasperation. “You have no idea. That designer is a notoriously difficult old man. I spent two weeks just researching his personal preferences. After Chazz got to Monaco, he spent his days walking the man’s dogs and playing video games with his grandson.” “Can you even imagine it? The city’s famously cold and untouchable Chazz Kinnear, playing nanny for some stranger.” “After all that effort… you’re telling me you don’t feel anything at all?” I blinked back the stinging in my eyes. I didn’t dare. I couldn’t bear the thought of being locked away again in that endless, lightless tomb. A thing that was neither human nor ghost. … After what happened to Lily in my past life, I could never forgive myself. If I hadn’t pushed Chazz to say those words, she wouldn’t have slipped away into the night, right into the path of those monsters. But in the aftermath, Chazz had become even more attentive. A single sneeze from me would send him into a panic, rushing me to the hospital for a full check-up. If I was out of touch for even a few hours, I would return to his mansion to find the entire staff—maids, drivers, assistants—kneeling on the floor in silent terror. I truly believed he loved me more than life itself. Loved me enough to overlook the fact that Lily’s death lay between us like a chasm. Until I stumbled upon the hidden folder. Thousands of videos. Every single one was a scene of me, Chazz, and Lily, on one of our many outings together. But in every frame, my image had been completely erased. There was Lily, in a series of bizarre poses, laughing and talking to thin air. When Chazz occasionally appeared on screen, his gaze was fixed on her, his eyes overflowing with a love and adoration so intense it was almost painful to watch. The last video was of Lily, her skin unnaturally pale, lying in a crystal coffin. The audio was just Chazz’s low, desperate whisper. “She looks so much like her.” “Could she… become her?” Each word was a sledgehammer blow to my heart. So that was it. The name he whispered in the throes of passion… it was never mine. It was always Lily. No wonder he’d noticed me. On my first day, when Chazz had walked past the interview room, his gaze had swept over a dozen candidates from top-tier universities without a flicker of interest. But his eyes had stopped on me, tucked away in the corner, trying to discreetly slip out. Every moment I had felt special, every time I had been singled out for his favor, he had simply been tracing Lily’s shadow over my features, using me as a screen to hide his forbidden, incestuous love. He had watched calmly as I, in a hysterical rage, smashed everything in sight. His voice was a blade of ice. “You should be grateful you look like her.” Later, he locked me away in the mausoleum he built for her. The four walls, seamless and oppressive, were transformed into holographic screens, endlessly replaying home videos of him and Lily, from childhood to adulthood. January 15, 2003. A young Lily stands on a stool, stretching to reach a box of noodles on a high shelf. She clumsily boils a simple noodle soup, her hands still trembling as she carries the bowl to his bedside. “Brother, eat something first. The medicine won’t upset your stomach if you eat.” A feverish Chazz eats from the bowl she holds, his lips brushing against her fingertips. His face turns scarlet. May 22, 2013. He comes home late at night to find the living room light still on. Lily is curled up on the sofa, fast asleep, clutching his thick winter coat. Chazz just stares at her for a long time. Then, he leans down and presses a feather-light, reverent kiss to her forehead. … The images bathed every corner of the mausoleum in a stark, unyielding light. I would clamp my hands over my ears, squeeze my eyes shut, my nails scratching bloody trails into the walls. But it was no use. Lily’s laughter, her tears, her playful shouts… they were a swarm of tiny insects burrowing into my flesh. Day and night, it never stopped. At the height of my madness, Chazz’s deep, hypnotic voice would echo in the darkness. “Lily.” And I, numb, a marionette with its strings cut, would unconsciously repeat her name, over and over again. “Lily.” “Clara! You left without saying a word! I was looking all over for you.” Lily ran up to me, linking her arm through mine as if nothing had changed. “You look awful. Are you not feeling well? I remember you have that meeting with the Sterling Group tomorrow. Do you want me to ask my brother for some time off for you?” I fought the urge to recoil, but I couldn’t stop myself from gently pulling my arm free. “Lily, I’m resigning.” She froze, the words blurting out. “Why? I thought you loved working with my brother. You’re always using project revisions as an excuse to stick to his side. He hates the winter, but he still went on that business trip to Scandinavia with you.” “I always thought you two were…” I paused. She used to complain in that same joking tone about how Chazz and I were inseparable. I’d thought she was just annoyed we weren’t spending time with her. Only now did I hear the probing question underneath: what, exactly, was our relationship? This time, I couldn’t let that sword continue to hang over her heart. It was the only way she would live. It was the only way I would live. “Lily, your brother and I are just colleagues. Nothing more.” “Actually… I can’t stand him. He’s a complete tyrant. Every plan, every employee, has to bend to his will. I’ve had enough.” “I’m planning to study in France. If I’m lucky, I might just stay there for good.” Lily stared at me, stunned. Her eyes held a trace of reluctance, but it was overshadowed by a joy she tried to suppress, a slight upward tilt of her lips. I smiled, a sense of relief washing over me. Let it be this way. I wished us both the best in getting what we wanted. But as I turned to leave, I saw him. Not far away, a tall, imposing figure stood half-hidden in the dappled shadows of the trees. Chazz’s eyes, black as obsidian, were fixed on me. They were utterly devoid of warmth. Silent, dark, and bottomless. Just like they were in my past life, when I had begged him not to lock me in the tomb. Just as cold. The next day, my resignation was rejected. My visa application for France was denied. And suddenly, a dozen clients from projects that were already finished started lodging complaints about my proposals. I had no choice but to work late, night after night. Eventually, the entire six-hundred-person staff of Kinnear Industries had gone home, leaving only Chazz and me. We rode the elevator down in suffocating silence. When the doors opened, I practically bolted out, a weight lifting from my shoulders. But Chazz was faster. He caught up in three long strides, blocking my path, his shadow falling over me like a cage. “Why have you been avoiding me?” His presence was overwhelming, his eyes dark with a suspicious, probing intensity. My heart hammered against my ribs. My recent behavior had been so out of character that even my colleagues had joked about me no longer being Mr. Kinnear’s shadow. He’s been reborn, too. The thought struck me like lightning. He would inevitably wonder if I was still the same Clara he knew. In my past life, he had tortured me until my mind broke, until I truly believed I was Lily. I let him dress me in her clothes, coached me to mimic her every word, her every gesture. I called him “brother” with a docile smile. In the rare moments of lucidity, the horror, the disgust, the seething hatred would threaten to swallow me whole. Once, I grabbed a shard of a broken mirror and slashed it across my own face. “Chazz!” I had screamed. “You love looking at her through me, don’t you? You love this face! Well, I’ll destroy it! Look at me! I am Clara! Not your dead Lily!” Suddenly, a blood-soaked woman was dragged in front of me. Chazz brushed the matted hair from her face and, with a casual, almost bored air, sliced off one of her fingers. The woman’s scream was echoed by my own soul-tearing shriek. “Mom!” “Stop! Chazz, stop, I’m begging you!” He leaned down, his fingers digging into my chin, his eyes as cold and remote as a star as he looked at his new toy. “Tell me,” he commanded. “Who are you?” “I… I am Lily.” “Good girl. Stay with your brother, just like this. Forever.” … Was he testing me now? To see if I remembered? Was he afraid I would take my revenge on Lily? If he found out, would I be thrown back into that lightless hell? But after all the humiliation, I was paralyzed by a fear and hatred so profound I couldn’t possibly pretend everything was normal. I couldn’t fake the easy affection I once had for him. My knuckles were white from clenching my fists. Suddenly, a bright, cheerful voice broke the tension. “Brother, why are you working so late all the time? You promised you’d watch that mystery show with me. I’m too scared to watch it alone.” Lily came skipping over, clutching a warm bag of roasted chestnuts. The hard lines of Chazz’s face softened instantly. He let her pop a chestnut into his mouth. “Alright. Let’s go home now.” “Clara, you should come with us! The snowstorm is getting bad, it’ll be impossible to get a cab, and the subway has stopped running…” “She still has work to do,” Chazz cut in. “Brother, you’re such a slave driver! No wonder Clara was telling me in secret how much she dislikes you.” After they left, I tilted my head back, breathing a sigh of relief. The snow fell from the night sky in thick, silent flakes. It was just like the snow that had fallen that year we were stranded together on a deserted island in Scandinavia. Our car had been buried in a snowdrift, our phones had no signal. He’d moistened the last half of a cracker with melted snow and fed it to me. He had pressed his face against mine, his own body shivering. That was the first time I ever heard him cry. “Yesterday you were nagging me about getting back early to pick up Pudding from the sitter. If you die here, I swear I won’t ever take care of that cat.” “You said when we were old and gray, we’d race our wheelchairs.” “Don’t fall asleep, Clara. Don’t you dare.” … I couldn’t help but wonder. Maybe, once, Chazz had felt something real for me. But whatever it was, it was nothing against the bond he shared with Lily, forged over a decade of shared blood and bone. This time, all I wanted was to get as far away from them as possible. But in the days that followed, my workload doubled, and every visa application I submitted was rejected. My colleagues teased me. “Clara, looks like Mr. Kinnear plans to work you to death. He’s never letting you leave this company.” Lily, who had just arrived with Chazz’s lunch, overheard. Her face turned pale. That evening, at a corporate gala, Lily approached me, her arm linked with another man’s. “Clara, this is Ethan Cole, of Sterling Group. Remember when you went to negotiate that partnership? He couldn’t stop asking me about you.” “You were working so late the other night and had no one to take you home. Why not give Ethan a chance? He knows you want to go to France—he even booked tickets for a show at the Palais Garnier in Paris.” Ethan smiled, a warm, genuine smile, and extended a polite hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Clara.” Lily’s fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress. She watched me, her gaze intense, as if terrified I would say no. If this would finally put her mind at ease, then so be it. And perhaps, with the power of the Sterling Group behind me, I could finally vanish from Chazz’s world for good. I smiled back and extended my own hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Ethan.” Across the room, Chazz’s fingers tightened around his wine glass. His gaze was a physical weight, hot and piercing. The instant my fingers touched Ethan’s palm, a furious figure strode towards us. To the gasps of the onlookers, he grabbed my arm and dragged me from the ballroom.

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My mother was a professional con artist. Her specialty was staging accidents. Every day, she’d drag me to a busy intersection, and we’d hunt for our mark. As soon as a car slowed down, she’d shove me into its path. I’d get hit, and she’d rush over, wailing and screaming, clutching me as if I were dying. She’d tell the driver they’d hit a child, and if they didn’t hand over a hundred thousand dollars, this would not end well. I’ve had three broken bones. Each time she got the money, she’d buy me an ice cream cone as a reward. But the sweetness of the ice cream could never mask the agony of a fractured bone. … 1 “Nina, are you ready?” my mother whispered, crouching at the mouth of an alley. I clutched my backpack and nodded, my eyes glued to a black sedan making a slow right turn at the intersection. My leg was still in a cast, the “trophy” from last month’s job. “Mom, my leg still hurts…” “Suck it up!” she snapped. “Look at that car. You can tell they’re rich. This one’s the big score. If we land this, we can take the rest of the month off!” Then, timing it perfectly, she gave me a vicious shove from behind. I flew forward, landing hard in front of the car. The driver’s door flew open, and a man in a sharp suit scrambled out. “Little girl, are you okay?” My mother was on him in a flash, launching into her performance. “My baby! My poor, cursed child! You bastard! Are you blind?!” I lay on the pavement, expertly shutting my eyes and letting out a low moan. Over the years, we’d perfected this routine, scamming dozens of people. The fear I’d felt in the beginning had hardened into a numb resignation. It only took two years. “One million,” my mother screeched, naming a price that was pure fantasy. “Not a penny less, or I’ll die right here with you!” The man’s brow furrowed for a moment, as if he were considering it. “Fine,” he said, stunning us both. “But not here.” He opened his car door. “Get in. We’ll go to the hospital. I’ll pay for the examination, the medical bills, the emotional distress. I won’t short you a dime.” My mother was speechless. She’d never expected it to be this easy. Overjoyed, she scooped me up and bundled me into the car. But the car didn’t head toward the city. It drove further and further into the outskirts, until it finally stopped in front of an abandoned factory. “Mister, this isn’t the way to the hospital…” I whispered. He turned, his face stripped of its earlier kindness. “I know,” he said with a chilling smile. “This is a place for teaching lessons.” 2 The man’s name was Landon Pierce. He dragged my mother out of the car. She shrieked, “What do you want? I’m warning you, don’t try anything crazy! I’ve already called the police!” Landon ignored her. He retrieved a crowbar from the trunk and tossed it at her feet. He pointed at me. Then at my mother. “Her, or you?” “What?” she stammered, not understanding. “I said,” Landon’s voice was flat, emotionless, “do you do it, or do I?” “Your daughter has one leg in a cast. The other one is perfectly fine.” “You choose. Either you break your own arm, or I’ll help you out and break your daughter’s other leg.” The color drained from my mother’s face. She looked from the crowbar on the ground to me. “Sir, please, I was wrong! I swear, I was wrong! I have a family to support, I was just desperate…” “Choose,” Landon cut her off. A single, unyielding word. I stared at my mother, the woman who always claimed I was her entire world. I waited for her to pick up the crowbar, even if it was just for show. I waited for her to shield me with her body, to scream “Don’t you touch my daughter.” She didn’t. She dropped to her knees with a thud and clutched Landon’s leg. “Please, I’m begging you, let me go! I can’t break my arm! How will I work? How will I support her?” “She’s young, her bones heal fast! She’ll be fine! Please, hurt her! Just don’t touch me!” In that moment, even the wind howling around the factory seemed to fall silent. Landon kicked her away, his face a mask of undisguised contempt. He came to the car, opened the door, and pulled me out. “Mom! Help me!” I cried, reaching for her. My mother scrambled to her feet, but not to run to me. She stumbled away, toward the factory gates. “Nina, you just be brave! Mommy’s going to get help!” She ran without a backward glance, leaving me alone with this monster. Landon didn’t follow her. He just looked at me, his expression a mixture of something I couldn’t name—pity, maybe, or disgust. He knelt and gently touched my good leg. “Does it hurt?” I was too terrified to speak, shaking my head frantically. “Don’t be afraid. Uncle will be very gentle.” He stood up and raised the crowbar. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the familiar, sickening pain. There was a sharp crack. My scream died in my throat. Landon had broken my other leg. He tucked a bank card into my pocket. “The PIN is six zeros. A lesson for you both. There’s enough money in there to live on for a long time, and enough to fix your legs.” “Tell your mother this is what she earned. I hope she enjoys the money she bought with her daughter’s two broken legs.” He got back in his car, started the engine, and the black sedan vanished down the road. My mother must have been hiding nearby. She came running back, saw me crumpled on the ground, and after a brief pause, threw herself on me, frantically searching my pockets. When she found the card, her face lit up with a grotesque, ecstatic joy. She hugged me, not with concern, but with manic excitement. “Nina! My darling girl! You’re Mommy’s lucky charm! We’re rich! We’re rich!” She spun in a circle, holding me tight, oblivious to the searing pain in my legs. Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t tell if they were from the pain, or from the chill that had settled deep in my heart. Mom, I thought, your lucky charm now has two broken legs. 3 I spent the next six months in bed. With both legs broken, my mother could no longer use me for her scams. She hired the cheapest, unlicensed doctor in town to set the bones crudely and applied the lowest-quality ointment every day. My recovery was slow and agonizing. The breaks left me with permanent damage; on rainy days, a deep, gnawing pain would shoot through my legs. With the money, my mother bought new clothes and jewelry. She also developed a gambling addiction. The money vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Her anxiety returned. “This is all your fault,” she’d rage at me. “If you hadn’t been so useless, so scared of that man, we wouldn’t have lost our source of income!” I sat in my wheelchair, staring silently out the window. I once thought having both legs broken was rock bottom. I never imagined she could always find a new way to drag me deeper into hell. She discovered a new “business opportunity.” There was a spoiled rich kid in our neighborhood named Kyle. He was sixteen or seventeen and terrorized the community on a modified electric scooter, speeding recklessly down the sidewalks. Everyone despised him, but his family was wealthy and powerful, so nobody dared to say a word. My mother set her sights on him. “Nina, when that little punk comes around the corner, you’re going to roll yourself out there. Got it?” “Mom, I’m scared…” I gripped the arms of my wheelchair. “Scared of what? He hits you, we get a huge payout! It’ll pay for your college tuition!” She was painting her fantasies again, as if my well-being meant nothing to her. Kyle’s scooter tore around the corner in a blur. My mother shoved me from behind. The wheelchair shot out into the middle of the path. There was a screech of brakes. The wheelchair was knocked over. I was thrown out, my head cracking against a stone curb. Blood streamed down my forehead, blurring my vision. My mother’s performance began right on cue. “Oh, God! Someone help! He hit my poor daughter!” A crowd gathered, pointing fingers at Kyle, who stood there, pale and stunned. “I… I didn’t mean to…” “Didn’t mean to? Look at my daughter! Her legs were already broken, and now you’ve cracked her head open! You’re not leaving here until you make this right!” A kind-looking woman pushed through the crowd, trying to help me up. My mother shoved her away. “Don’t you touch her! We don’t need your fake sympathy! You rich people are all the same!” The woman froze, looking from my mother to me, her eyes filled with a sad pity. Her name was Maria, and she was Kyle’s family’s housekeeper. Kyle’s parents arrived quickly, their apologies profuse. “Ma’am, we are so sorry. We haven’t raised our son right. Look, let’s settle this privately. Name your price.” My mother had what she wanted. The haggling began. I lay on the ground, listening to the murmurs of the crowd. “That poor kid, having a mother like that.” “I know, right? Using her own child as a meal ticket.” “Still, that Kyle kid had it coming.” No one asked if I was in pain. They were just spectators at a circus. In the end, my mother got two hundred thousand dollars. She pushed me home, humming a cheerful tune. “See, Nina? Mommy’s smart, isn’t she? I earned you a fortune!” I closed my eyes, unwilling to speak. Mom, if I ever really do die, will you use my corpse to bargain for even more money? 4 The Kyles paid, but on one condition: my mother had to bring me to their house to sign a formal agreement, officially closing the matter. My mother saw this as a reasonable request, given the money she’d received. She dressed me in my only new outfit and pushed my wheelchair to their home. It was a mansion, dripping with gold and marble. Kyle’s mother was effusively welcoming. “Please, come in! You must be Nina. Such a beautiful child. It breaks my heart to see you suffer so.” She stroked my head and handed me an expensive-looking teddy bear. Kyle trudged down the stairs, looking mortified. “Mom, do we really have to do this? It’s so embarrassing.” “Quiet, you!” his mother snapped. “Kyle, apologize to your sister. Now.” He shuffled over and mumbled a barely audible, “Sorry.” “See? We’ve just spoiled him rotten,” Mrs. Kyle said with a laugh. “Oh, it’s nothing, boys will be boys!” my mother chirped, her smile wide. The atmosphere seemed peaceful, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a strange coldness in Mrs. Kyle’s eyes when she looked at me. After the apology, my mother was ready to leave, but Mrs. Kyle insisted we stay. “Don’t rush off! I had Maria prepare some snacks. Please, have something before you go.” Maria, the housekeeper who had tried to help me, brought out a tray of pastries and gave me a small, kind smile. We were shown to a small sitting room off the main hall. Kyle followed us in and sat opposite me, glaring. My mother was busy chatting with Mrs. Kyle, boasting about how hard her life was, raising me all by herself. Suddenly, Kyle stood up and walked over to me. “Hey, I heard your mom’s a professional scammer,” he whispered. I ignored him. “What, you deaf now? If it wasn’t for you, my dad wouldn’t have beaten me! This isn’t over!” He suddenly shoved my wheelchair, hard. There were two low steps leading out of the room. The chair tipped, and I was thrown out, my head slamming against the sharp edge of a marble tile. The world went silent. I couldn’t hear my mother’s screams or Mrs. Kyle’s gasp. I only saw Maria’s horrified face as she ran toward me. Just before I lost consciousness, I felt her press something small and hard into my hand. My mother’s reaction this time was even faster. She wasn’t just demanding money; she was throwing a full-blown tantrum. “You’re trying to murder us! If anything happens to my daughter, I’ll make sure your whole family pays!” Mrs. Kyle’s face had changed. She hadn’t expected her son to be stupid enough to pull a stunt like this. “Ma’am, calm down! It… it was an accident!” “An accident? You did this on purpose! Money! Five hundred thousand! Not a penny less!” my mother screamed a new number. This time, she got exactly what she wanted. To make the problem go away, the Kyles paid her off again. I was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with a severe concussion and temporary hearing loss. The doctor said if it had been any worse, I might never have woken up. My mother stayed by my bedside, not out of concern, but out of fear that if I died, her golden goose would be gone for good. She only relaxed once I regained consciousness and could hear again. I looked at her, unable to speak a single word. My fist was clenched tight. Inside was a piece of fruit candy. And wrapped in the candy’s paper, I could feel something else.

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I had been with Christopher for over five years. That day, I came home with the freshly printed wedding invitations, planning to surprise him. The kitchen light was warm and inviting. He was laughing and joking with the new housekeeper. She took a spoonful of soup from his bowl, tasted it, and then playfully tapped his chest. “You’re lying. It’s not salty at all.” My fingers tightened, crumpling the invitations into a ball. I walked straight to the trash can and threw them in. “Looks like my fiancé is getting a new girlfriend.” 1 Sarah had only been with us for a month. She was the cousin of our regular housekeeper, Mrs. Davis. A few weeks ago, Christopher had gone skiing and broken his leg. The doctor had ordered two months of strict bed rest. Just then, Mrs. Davis had a family emergency and had to leave in a hurry, so she asked her cousin to fill in for her. I was away on a business trip when she arrived. With Christopher unable to travel, I, as the vice president, had to oversee the company’s out-of-state projects. During that time, he mentioned her a few times in our chats: “Sarah is really efficient. And she’s a great cook.” I assumed she was around Mrs. Davis’s age and mentally filed her under “dependable, middle-aged housekeeper.” But when I got home and opened the door, the woman I saw was only a few years older than us. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, her apron was spotless, and her expression was neutral. I set down my bag and smiled. “Sarah, I picked this silk scarf out for you at the mall. Thank you for taking care of Christopher all this time.” I took a gift box out of my bag. It was originally for Mrs. Davis. I always brought her a small gift when I returned from a trip, partly as a bonus, and partly because she’d been with us for four or five years and felt like family. Sarah looked at the box but didn’t reach for it. The silence stretched for a moment. “Please, don’t feel obligated,” I added. “It’s just a little something extra. It won’t be deducted from your salary.” She looked up. “Miss Vance, this is my job. I haven’t done anything to deserve a gift. You don’t need to give me anything; I will do my job well regardless.” The sound of our voices must have reached the bedroom. Christopher wheeled himself to the doorway. I instinctively moved to help him, but before his wheelchair had even stopped, Sarah was already there, her hand on the handle. My outstretched hand hovered in the air for a second before I pulled it back. I told myself she was just a no-nonsense, efficient person. “What’s wrong?” Christopher asked, looking up at me. I smiled. “Nothing. I was just giving Sarah a gift I bought for her.” I held out the scarf. He took it, glanced at it, and nodded. “Claire always has excellent taste. This will look great on you, Sarah.” He then handed the box directly to her. This time, Sarah didn’t refuse. She accepted it naturally. “Thank you, Mr. Hayes.” She paused, then nodded at me. “And thank you, Miss Vance.” I mumbled an acknowledgment and took my laundry to the bedroom, making a mental note of the exchange. The gift had ended up in her hands, but who it came from clearly mattered. “Claire, you’re in for a treat tonight. Sarah is an amazing cook,” Christopher said from his wheelchair, holding my hand. From the open door, I could faintly hear the clatter of pots and pans. “Did you tell her I don’t eat cilantro?” I reminded him. “Of course. You think I’d forget something like that?” he said, tapping the tip of my nose with a familiar, playful gesture. His easy manner made me smile, and I pushed the earlier flicker of annoyance aside. A moment later, the door clicked open. “Sir, dinner is ready,” Sarah announced as she walked in. I had just gotten out of the shower. The bathroom was still steamy, and my hair was dripping as I was about to change. She had entered without knocking. I quickly clutched my towel tighter, my expression hardening. “Why didn’t you knock?” It had always just been me, Christopher, and Mrs. Davis in the house. Mrs. Davis was meticulous about etiquette; she would knock even if she was just bringing a glass of water. I’d gotten into the habit of not locking my door at home. Sarah looked taken aback for a second, a hint of embarrassment on her face. “We’re all women. It’s not a big deal.” A retort died on my lips. I was still undressed. I took a deep breath. “Could you both please leave?” Sensing my mood, Christopher quickly intervened. “Sarah didn’t mean anything by it. We’ll wait for you outside.” He gestured for her to push his wheelchair out. The door closed, and I heard the sound of the wheels fading down the hallway. I took another deep breath, grabbed my loungewear from the chair, and quickly dried my hair and got dressed. My reflection in the mirror was still tense. It wasn’t just about the small incident; it was the feeling of my boundaries being so easily crossed. 2 When I walked into the living room, Christopher had already started eating. Sarah was also seated at the dining table, her head bowed over her plate. The four dishes and soup were still steaming. My spot was empty. There wasn’t even a place setting for me. “When Mrs. Davis was training you, did she not mention that you’re not supposed to sit at the table with your employer without permission?” I asked, my voice tight with displeasure. It wasn’t that I was being unreasonable. I had invited Mrs. Davis to eat with us before, but she had always insisted on following the rules, citing professional boundaries. Sarah, however, seemed unfazed. “This is how I’ve been eating this whole time. Mr. Hayes said it was fine.” Christopher chimed in. “It’s no big deal, Claire. Come on, sit down and eat.” I didn’t move. I just stood there, looking at them. In the silence, the clinking of chopsticks against porcelain sounded jarringly loud. Christopher, sensing my anger, wheeled himself over and looked up at me. “Claire, don’t be mad. Please, sit.” “Tell her to leave the table,” I said. “Claire…” he started to argue. “Tell her to leave the table,” I repeated, leaving no room for negotiation. After a tense moment, he relented. “Sarah, would you mind eating in the kitchen?” Sarah’s face tightened. She scraped her chair back, a short, sharp sound against the floor. She seemed to have grown accustomed to her easy dynamic with Christopher, and my return had disrupted it. A flicker of emotion crossed her face before she suppressed it and prepared to stand. “Wait,” I said, turning to Christopher. “Did you not tell her I don’t eat cilantro?” He finally looked down at the table. Almost every dish was sprinkled with it. “Uh…” He was at a loss for words. “Miss Vance, it’s not Mr. Hayes’s fault,” Sarah cut in quickly. “I forgot while I was cooking. I added it out of habit.” “Then remake it,” I said flatly. “Claire, let it go. Just pick it out tonight. Sarah will remember next time,” Christopher tried to placate me. I didn’t say another word. I walked to the table, picked up the dish closest to me, and dumped its contents into the trash can. The sound of the sauce splattering was sharp and clear. “Then no one eats.” Christopher’s brow furrowed. “Claire, what are you doing?” He bit back the rest of his sentence, knowing, ultimately, that this was Sarah’s mistake. I ignored them both, grabbed my car keys and purse from the entryway, and left. I didn’t go back that night. Instead, I stayed at my small apartment near the office for a few days. I’d bought it for late nights during a big project. It was sparsely furnished but was only a five-minute walk from work. For days, Christopher bombarded me with messages: What time are you getting off work? Have you eaten? When are you coming home? Normally, he would have just driven over and waited for me downstairs. But with his leg, he was stuck at home, his frustration channeled into a relentless digital assault. I didn’t block him, but I rarely replied, occasionally sending a curt “Busy.” On the sixth day, he sent a longer message, asking if I wanted to look at wedding venues with him that weekend. He said he’d contacted several planners, checked on dates and budgets, and wanted me to pick my favorite. His tone was sincere, and I didn’t want to drag out the stalemate. I decided to accept the olive branch and went home. 3 When I walked in, a floor lamp cast a soft glow across the living room. On the balcony, Sarah was watering the plants. She glanced up when I entered but said nothing. I didn’t greet her either and went straight to the bedroom. Christopher was on the sofa, a stack of brochures from wedding planners on his lap. They were filled with photos of chapels, outdoor lawns, and grand hotel ballrooms. He saw me and immediately beckoned me over. “Claire, you’re finally back. Come, see which one you like.” I sat down and flipped through a few pages, nodding as I looked. “Don’t be so hard on Sarah,” he began. “She had a tough time. Her ex-husband was abusive, and she finally got a divorce. It’s not easy raising a kid on her own.” I stopped turning the pages and looked at him. “Are you defending her?” He quickly changed his tone, a mix of pleading and placating, and took my arm. “Of course not. I’m always on your side. I already told her, no more cilantro in the food.” His hand was warm, his voice soft. I looked at him, and the anger inside me began to dissipate. “Fine,” I said, my voice still a little cool, but the tension was gone. Just then, there were two knocks on the door. “Sir, Miss Vance, dinner is ready.” This time, she was perfectly polite. She waited for us to come out before she brought the food from the kitchen, and she didn’t sit at the table. After setting down the dishes, she recited the menu, adding pointedly, “None of these have cilantro.” I glanced at the plates. The seasoning had indeed been changed. Christopher took the opportunity to add, “Try it today. If you don’t like it, we can adjust it.” I nodded and sat down. The atmosphere was still a bit strained, but it was an improvement. I put the brochures aside to look at after dinner. After eating, I went to my room to catch up on some emails. As I relaxed, a wave of drowsiness washed over me, and I lay down for a quick nap. I was drifting in and out of sleep when I heard a clattering sound from my nightstand, like someone was rummaging through the drawer. I shot up, fumbling for the bedside lamp. In the sudden light, an eight-or-nine-year-old boy was crouched by the nightstand, my lipstick and a bottle of perfume in his hands. “Who are you?!” I jumped out of bed, blocking the door. The boy glanced at me, said nothing, and bolted for the living room. I chased after him and grabbed his arm. “Who are you? Who let you in? Sarah! Sarah!” I yelled. The sudden confrontation scared him. He threw himself on the floor and started kicking and screaming. I was stunned by his reaction. Just then, I heard footsteps. Sarah came in from outside, saw the boy, and immediately rushed to his side, shielding him. “Miss Vance, what happened?” she asked, her eyes wary. The boy, seeing a familiar face, dropped the act, scrambled to his feet, hid behind her, and made a face at me. “Did you bring him here?” I demanded. “He’s my son,” she replied. “There was no one at home, so I picked him up from school and brought him here for a little while.” Before I could say anything, she added, “I already asked Mr. Hayes. He said it was okay.” A surge of anger rose in me. I went to the study and dragged Christopher out. He had no idea what was happening. “What’s wrong?” he asked, bewildered. “This child. You said he could come into our home?” I pointed to the living room. He nodded. “Sarah had no one to watch him. He’s too young to be alone.” I didn’t argue. I just pushed him back toward the bedroom. “Then how are you going to take responsibility for this?” He followed my gaze to my vanity and froze. It was a disaster. Foundation, blush, and brushes were scattered everywhere. Several lipsticks were broken. Two perfume bottles were open, their contents spilled on the floor, the strong scent overwhelming. One of them was a new Chanel I had just bought.

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1. A nasty flu had me feeling like death warmed over, so I had to beg my gay best friend, Ben, to drive me to the clinic for a shot. I was expecting a simple IV drip, but the intern on duty insisted that if I wanted to get better fast, it had to be an intramuscular injection in the glute. To avoid missing any more work, I gritted my teeth and agreed. But after I lowered my pants, the intern suddenly rushed out of the room in a panic and dragged Ben inside. “Oh my God, sir! Your girlfriend has a syphilitic rash all over her backside! How can you be with someone who has a disease that… filthy?” A surge of white-hot anger shot through me. I demanded she apologize, but instead, the intern turned around and posted a TikTok. The caption read: “Forced by my superiors to apologize after exposing a patient’s promiscuous lifestyle, but I know I did the right thing! Sometimes you have to speak up! #MedStudentLife #DoingTheRightThing” … I yanked my pants up, my hands shaking with rage, and spun around to glare at the girl whose name tag read, “Zoe, Medical Intern.” “What the hell are you talking about?” My voice was sharp with fury, but Zoe seemed oblivious, her face a mask of wounded innocence. “I just don’t want this gentleman to be deceived by you!” she declared righteously, before casting a shy, adoring glance at Ben. “I can’t stand people like you, who use a pretty face to cheat good men!” The so-called “good man,” Ben, pointed a bewildered finger at his own nose. His expression screamed, “Me?” I followed Zoe’s gaze and saw the undisguised infatuation swirling in her eyes as she looked at Ben. In that instant, it all clicked into place. Ben was wearing a bespoke suit, a Patek Philippe gleaming on his wrist. Paired with a face that could rival any A-list actor, it was enough to send an impressionable young girl’s imagination into overdrive. There was just one tiny problem: Ben wasn’t straight. I let out a cold, humorless laugh, done wasting my breath on her. I raised my voice, calling out into the hallway. “Head nurse! Could I speak to whoever is in charge here, please?” My voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the clinic’s low hum, drawing the attention of several nurses nearby. A moment later, a middle-aged man with a tag identifying him as “Dr. Matthews, Department Head” hurried in. “Ma’am, is there a problem?” I pointed a trembling finger at Zoe and recounted everything that had just happened, word for word. As I spoke, Dr. Matthews’s face grew darker and darker. Zoe, faced with her superior, was clearly losing her nerve. Her eyes darted around the room as she anxiously twisted the hem of her white coat. “I… I must have made a mistake. I was just so shocked that I…” she stammered, trying to defend herself. I cut her off, my gaze sweeping sharply between her and the doctor. “A mistake? You think a flippant ‘I made a mistake’ is enough to repair the damage you’ve done to my reputation and my health?” I paused, letting the tension build before dropping the bomb. “Fine. I will undergo a full panel of tests right here, right now, in your clinic. If they show that there is nothing wrong with me, then not only will I sue Ms. Zoe for personal defamation and emotional distress, but I will also sue this hospital for gross negligence and for enabling its staff to spread malicious lies.” The color drained from Dr. Matthews’s face, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He whirled on Zoe, his voice a low, furious hiss. “What are you still standing there for? Since when can you diagnose a patient with your eyes alone? Who do you think you are? Apologize to this lady. Now!” Under the immense pressure, Zoe’s face turned crimson. Her lips trembled as if she wanted to argue. But what she did next, no one saw coming. “Waaaaah!” She clapped her hands over her face and burst into loud, theatrical sobs. 2. Dr. Matthews looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. Ben just stood there, a perfect picture of “Who am I? Where am I?” confusion. I crossed my arms, watching her performance with cold detachment. Zoe sobbed, peeking at Ben through the gaps in her fingers, but her words were directed at her boss. “I… I just didn’t want this gentleman to be kept in the dark! He’s such a good person, why should he be deceived by someone who plays games with people’s hearts!” Growing more agitated, she dropped her hands, her red-rimmed eyes locking onto mine. “You know exactly how wild your life is, don’t you? If you’re going to be dirty, then stay away from decent men!” She spoke with such conviction, as if she were some righteous crusader. But from the moment we walked in, Ben hadn’t said a single word. How had she determined he was a “decent man”? Pure fantasy? I was so angry I had to laugh. Taking a step toward her, I didn’t back down. “Fine. Let’s say I ‘corrupt’ people,” I said, playing along. Then my finger shot out, pointing at a still-baffled Ben. “Then you tell me, who deserves to be with him? Who wouldn’t be corrupting him?” Zoe’s eyes flickered away, a suspicious blush creeping up her cheeks. She stammered, unable to form a single word. The answer was obvious. “That’s enough!” Dr. Matthews had reached his limit. “Zoe, one more word of this nonsense and you’re fired!” I ignored him, pulled my phone from my pocket, and began dialing in front of everyone. “Hello, 911? I’d like to report a case of public slander…” “Ma’am! Ma’am, please don’t!” Seeing I was serious, Dr. Matthews nearly jumped out of his skin. He lunged forward and pressed down on my phone, his posture utterly deferential, his tone almost pleading. “Please, calm down. This is our hospital’s failure. I promise you, I will handle this to your complete satisfaction!” He spun back to Zoe, his eyes like daggers. “Zoe! Do you want a future in this hospital or not? Is your residency position not important to you? I am giving you one last chance. Apologize to this lady. Immediately!” The words “residency position” finally snapped Zoe back to reality. She bit her lip, trembling with resentment, and gave me a stiff, reluctant bow. “I’m… sor… ry…” Her voice was barely a whisper, but the venom in her eyes could have killed. Dr. Matthews delivered the sentence. “Zoe, you are suspended from your rotation, effective immediately. You will write a ten-thousand-word formal apology, and a hospital-wide disciplinary notice will be issued!” Already sick and now dealing with this mess, I couldn’t even be bothered to get the shot anymore. I just turned and walked out. Ben walked me to my car. Seeing how pale I was, he asked worriedly, “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” “I’m fine. Go on your date,” I said, waving him off. “Don’t keep him waiting.” Back home, I collapsed onto the sofa, my head throbbing. I ordered some medicine and takeout on my phone. While waiting, I idly scrolled through local TikToks. Suddenly, a video popped up. On the screen, a girl in a white coat was crying her eyes out for the camera. It was Zoe. The text overlay was dripping with self-pity: 【I just tried to warn a patient’s family that his “girlfriend” might have a nasty disease, but my boss forced me to apologize and told me to mind my own business… What is wrong with this world? But I know I did the right thing. I’m still a good person!】 The comment section was a war zone. 【Don’t cry, you did nothing wrong! You’re too kind for this world!】 【Some women these days have zero morals, but god forbid you say anything about it.】 【That patient probably reported you because you hit a nerve! Hugs!】 My blood boiled. This woman, who was supposed to be suspended and reflecting on her actions, was actively fanning the flames in her comment section, describing me in vivid detail. 【The woman looked so sick and haggard, a total mess. I have no idea how she tricked a guy like him. He was so handsome and classy—they were like night and day!】 I burst out laughing from sheer disbelief. What a master of deception, this “good person.” Fueled by rage, I started typing in the comments: 【I’m the “patient” you’re talking about, and here’s what actually happened at the clinic today…】 I was halfway through typing out the whole sordid affair when my doorbell rang. My medicine and food had arrived. I put my phone down, forced myself to eat a few bites, and swallowed the pills. The medicine hit me hard, and soon I was dizzy, sinking into a deep, hazy sleep. 3. I slept like the dead. When I finally opened my eyes, the world outside my window was pitch black. The flu medicine had worn off, and my head finally felt clear again, not like the cotton-stuffed mess it had been. I reached for my phone to check the time, but the screen immediately lit up with a relentless barrage of calls from Ben. It was a full-blown emergency. “Hello?” My voice was still raspy. “Oh my god, finally! Get on TikTok, right now! It’s a complete disaster!” Ben sounded frantic. A knot of dread formed in my stomach as I opened the app. The flood of DMs and comment notifications instantly froze my phone, turning the screen into a stuttering slideshow. That’s when I realized it. In my medicated haze last night, I must have accidentally hit send on that half-finished comment. 【I’m the “patient” you’re talking about, and here’s what actually happened at the clinic today…】 Just that one, dangling sentence, hanging awkwardly in the comments of Zoe’s viral video. And right below it, Zoe had performed a stunning reversal. She replied to me, her tone no longer defiant but impossibly humble: 【I am so, so sorry, ma’am. I was wrong, I was truly wrong. I shouldn’t have been such a busybody, and I never should have posted about this online. I’m just an intern who has studied for five years to get this one chance. Please, I’m begging you, have mercy. Don’t file another complaint. I’ll never be so “righteous” again. I’m on my knees apologizing to you.】 Her “retreat to advance” tactic was flawless. My notifications had become a cesspool. 【Oh look, the main character has arrived. Why’d you stop typing? Feeling guilty?】 【“What actually happened is…” is what? That you screwed around and caught something nasty?】 【The poor intern is practically begging on her knees. What more do you want? Just because you got caught doesn’t mean you can be a bully!】 【Look at her, can’t even finish a sentence. She knows she was exposed. Serves her right.】 I was shaking with rage, my chest tight. These people, based on one manipulative video and a few crocodile-tear comments, had already convicted and sentenced me. I clicked on Zoe’s profile and saw that she had pinned her reply to the top, every word painting her as a poor, bullied intern who was forced to abandon her “righteous” quest by a powerful abuser. Fine. You want to settle this online? Let’s settle it online. With trembling hands, I opened my camera, ready to record a video explaining everything. But a cold, impersonal notification box popped up on my screen: 【Your account has been temporarily suspended due to multiple user reports of violating community guidelines.】 My vision went black for a second. When I came to, I immediately contacted customer support, only to be told it would take three business days for a review. Three business days? By then, this whole thing would be ancient history. And just then, as if on cue, a friend request popped up on my messaging app. The profile picture was Zoe’s tear-stained face. I accepted, and a message instantly came through. 【I really didn’t expect things to blow up like this online. I know I was wrong, and I’ve already asked for your forgiveness. But as a medical professional, I still have to advise you: a girl should take care of her body. It’s better not to have such a messy private life.】 Her condescending tone, as if she were some kind of savior. I stared at the words, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. I was about to unleash a string of curses, but my fingers froze over the screen. What was the point of cursing her out? It would only give her more satisfaction. I deleted the long, angry paragraph I had typed and calmly replied with a few simple words. 【Are you at the hospital now?】 Zoe clearly hadn’t expected that. A few seconds later, a single “?” appeared. Seeing that question mark, a cold smile spread across my face. I ignored her and dialed Ben. “Ben, I need you to do something for me.”

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