At 18, I walked in on my sister, Chloe, lifting Julian’s shirt to touch his abs. He just stood there, shirt loose, letting her do whatever she wanted. At 22, Julian married me because his family told him to. But everyone knew that even with a ring on his finger, he couldn’t let go of his intense love for Chloe. Years later, I asked for a divorce. He was silent for a long time before signing the papers. “If you ever need anything, just ask.” At 28, I returned for Julian and Chloe’s wedding. He glared at the man beside me, his eyes dark. “You were so eager to divorce me back then… was it for him?” 1 “I heard Sarah is back.” “Wait, wasn’t she the one who asked for the divorce?” “Now that Julian is the head of the Sterling Group, I wonder if she regrets it.” “What’s there to regret? She stole her sister’s engagement in the first place. This is just returning the husband to his rightful owner.” … I hadn’t even stepped into the private dining room when I heard my name. For three years, rumors about me hadn’t stopped. They said I was playing hard to get. Even my parents thought so. On the day of the divorce, my mom pulled me aside. “Since you’re divorced, don’t contact him anymore,” she warned. “Your sister hurt her leg; she needs Julian right now. Don’t upset her.” When I looked down, silent, she added, “This marriage was supposed to be your sister’s anyway. If she hadn’t gone abroad to study, you wouldn’t have had a chance.” My sister, Chloe, and Julian Sterling were the golden couple of our circle. Everyone envied them. But on the eve of the wedding, Chloe ran away. The news of the merger-marriage between our families was already out. Facing immense pressure, the Sterling elders decided to swap the bride. Me. I don’t know how they convinced him, but Julian eventually agreed to marry me. For three years, we lived like a normal couple. But everyone knew he never got over Chloe. He never let me into his study. Once, he forgot to close the door. I peeked through the crack and felt like I’d fallen into an ice cave. The walls were covered in wedding photos of him and Chloe. I had never seen Julian look like that. Vibrant, adoring, focused. His eyes were full of her. That was when the thought of divorce first crossed my mind. The day I finally decided to leave, I overheard him on the phone. He was coaxing someone, his voice gentle and soft. “Yeah, don’t be scared. I’ll be there in ten minutes… Don’t walk on it. Wait for me. Be good.” When he turned around, he saw me. “Dinner’s ready,” I said calmly. “Eat before you go.” He paused briefly, then continued walking. “You eat. Don’t wait for me.” Just as he reached the door, I called his name. “What?” Impatience flashed across his face. “Julian,” I said. “Let’s get a divorce.” 2 By the time my parents heard the news, we had already signed the papers. Julian didn’t shortchange me; he gave me half his assets. My parents summoned me home in the middle of the night. They interrogated me like a criminal, demanding to know why I was so cruel as to take half of Julian’s money. “Sarah, how did I raise you? Did you marry Julian just for his money?” Chloe stood to the side, leaning on crutches, wiping away tears. “Sarah, do you blame me? Do you blame me for coming back and taking Julian…” “Enough,” my parents cut her off. “Julian was supposed to be your husband. If you hadn’t run off, your kids would be in school by now.” Chloe loved Julian, but she loved dance more. Shortly after accepting his proposal, she got an offer from a prestigious dance company in Paris. She abandoned Julian without hesitation. For three years, they barely spoke. Until that night. Julian got an international call. He was resting his head on my shoulder, catching his breath. He answered it in front of me. Because we were so close, I clearly heard a woman sobbing on the other end. Julian froze. One second… five seconds… ten seconds… It took him thirty seconds to react. He grabbed a robe and stormed out. He didn’t come back that night. The next day, I learned from my parents that Chloe had an accident while dancing and broke her leg. Julian personally flew out to bring her back. Even though she lived with our parents, Julian handled everything related to her personally. My parents even tried to “counsel” me about it. “Don’t take it to heart. Your sister can’t dance anymore; she’s devastated. Only Julian can comfort her.” My parents had always favored Chloe. She was beautiful, smart, and talented—a singer and dancer. I was just a bookworm. Boring. Unskilled at charming people. Everyone revolved around the injured Chloe. Including my husband. He gradually lost patience with me. One evening, he promised to pick me up but left me waiting in the pouring rain for two hours. I got sick with a high fever. Julian had to leave Chloe to visit me at the hospital. My mother saw this as me manipulating him. She screamed at me hysterically, “Because you called Julian away, your sister almost killed herself last night! You’re healthy! Why do you have to compete with a disabled person?” I looked at her in disbelief. “But Julian is my husband…” “So what? This marriage belonged to her! You stole her husband!” But back then, she was the one who begged me to marry him. Before Chloe left for Paris, she came to me, trying to convince me to marry Julian. “Sarah, I know you like him. This is a good opportunity, isn’t it?” “Better to keep it in the family. You don’t want Julian with some stranger, do you?” I kept my head down, silent. Chloe got anxious. “Are you just going to watch our family go bankrupt?” “I’m begging you, Sarah. Or are you worried I’ll come back and fight you for him?” My expression shifted. She sighed in relief. “Don’t worry. Once I leave, I won’t contact him again. I swear!” She kept her promise for the first three years. But in the end, she forgot her vow. 3 After the divorce, I moved south, cutting off contact with my family for three years. Recently, they reached out to tell me Julian and Chloe were getting married. Chloe called me herself. “Sarah, please come to my wedding. Only if you’re there will I feel like I haven’t wronged you.” I was silent for a long time. “Okay.” The day I arrived home, the weather was beautiful. I dragged my suitcase through the door, and Chloe rushed out of her room. “Sarah!” Her steps were light. In the late autumn chill, she wore only a thin silk nightgown. Behind her, Julian followed with slippers and a coat. “Why can’t you remember to wear shoes? Next time, I’m going to…” His voice stopped abruptly. He saw me. It was the first time we’d seen each other since the divorce. “Long time no see,” I nodded politely. Three years later, Julian looked the same, but his eyes held less coldness and more tenderness. He nodded back, then looked away, draping the coat over Chloe. “You guys talk. I have work.” Chloe took my arm affectionately. “I was really afraid you wouldn’t come. I’m trying on dresses tomorrow. Come with me?” I pulled my arm back, face blank. “I’m busy tomorrow.” Chloe pouted. “Is it important?” “Yes. Very.” She thought for a moment. “Then let’s move it to the day after. Come back early tomorrow…” “I’m not staying here,” I interrupted. “Tell Mom and Dad I’m busy these days and won’t be staying over.” I picked up my suitcase and walked out without looking back. I hadn’t gone far when a car pulled up slowly beside me. The window rolled down, revealing Julian’s handsome face. “Get in. I’ll drive you.” I refused politely. “Thanks, but no.” He was persistent. I kept walking; he kept driving alongside me. “It’s hard to get a cab here. Get in.” Looking at the endless road ahead, I compromised. I got in and gave him the address. He frowned. “Why aren’t you staying at the Golden Bay condo?” “I don’t like it.” The Golden Bay apartment was part of the divorce settlement. He didn’t know I had already sold it. Julian’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t ask further. When we arrived, I got out. Julian followed. He grabbed my suitcase and wouldn’t let go. “Let’s go.” “I can take it myself.” I tugged the handle. It didn’t budge. He looked around at the run-down neighborhood. “Financial trouble?” This place was several tiers below Golden Bay. “No.” He ignored me and dragged the suitcase toward the entrance. “Which building? Which floor?” Julian is stubborn. Once he decides something, no one can change his mind. I gave up and led the way in silence. Elevator. Hallway. Door. I took the suitcase. “Thanks. It’s not convenient to invite you in.” “Wait.” I turned back. “How have you been these years?” I looked into his earnest eyes and felt a wave of disorientation. I didn’t remember him ever speaking to me in that tone. Just as I was about to answer, the door opened from the inside. A tall, strikingly handsome man appeared without warning. Broad shoulders, narrow waist—walking pheromones. He reached out and pulled me into his arms. “What took you so long, hmm?” He leaned in to kiss me. Just as his lips brushed mine, Julian’s angry voice rang out from behind us. “What do you think you’re doing?!” But the man didn’t stop. He deepened the kiss, then wrapped his arm around me and looked lazily at Julian. But his words were for me. “I’ve been gone for five minutes and you already found a replacement? You really are trouble.” I pushed him. He didn’t budge. I looked at Julian. “Let’s talk another time.” Julian’s hands balled into fists, his lips pressed into a thin line. The precursor to rage. But before he could explode, I was pulled inside. The door clicked shut. The man loomed over me dangerously. “If I remember correctly, you landed at 11 AM. It’s 2 PM. Three hours, and you’re already meeting the ex-husband?” I poked his rock-hard abs. “Evan…” He caught my hand. His voice dropped. “Don’t try to distract me.” I gripped the hem of his shirt, looking down silently. A large hand tilted my chin up. As our eyes met, Evan laughed in exasperation. “I haven’t even started punishing you, and you’re crying?” I sniffled. “I missed you…” 4 After the divorce, I went south and opened a bed and breakfast in a small town. The winters were warm, the summers cool, and the people were kind. I started to heal. Within a year, my B&B gained a reputation, and business picked up. Evan was the most reclusive guest I’d ever had. He stayed in his room most of the time. He only came out to the terrace when no one was around. At first, I worried he was suicidal and kept an eye on him. One day, while I was sunbathing in the courtyard, he walked up to me, a half-smile on his face. “Do I really look like I’m about to end it all?” I looked up in surprise. He lay down on the lounge chair next to me, lazy and relaxed. “I heard your phone call.” I was mortified. The night before, I told my best friend, “That guy is so handsome. If he offed himself, it would be a real waste.” Before I could apologize, Evan asked, “You don’t look like a local. Why open a B&B here?” I lied. “Too much money, too much time.” A low laugh escaped his throat. It sounded nice. I couldn’t help but look at him. It was a pleasant view—sharp jawline, sculpted profile as he looked at the sky. Julian was handsome, but Evan was in a league of his own. Sensing my gaze, he turned. We locked eyes. I don’t remember who looked away first, but the atmosphere shifted after that day. The day things changed, we went hiking. A sudden storm caught us on the way down, and we returned soaked to the bone. That night, I had a high fever. I tried to get water and broke a glass. Evan kicked the door open. Maybe it was the fever, but I swear I saw terror on his face. When he saw I was just sick, he visibly relaxed. I was bedridden for five days. Evan took care of me for five days. He moved his instruments into my room, and I found out he was a singer. “Are you going to leave soon?” I asked, holding a cup of hot water. “Do you want me to leave?” he countered. I didn’t answer. He took the cup from my hand and kissed me. His hot breath scorched my skin. I gripped his shirt, my heart pounding out of my chest. After that, Evan became the unofficial master of the B&B. Changing bulbs, fixing chairs—he did it all. Guests teased him. “You’re so handy. The beautiful boss should marry you already.” Whenever that happened, he’d ask me, “So, when are you going to marry me?” I always laughed it off. He acted like he didn’t care, but in private, he punished me in ways that made me beg for mercy. He never showed any. I thought we would live like that forever. But one day, Evan disappeared. I asked the guests. They said, “Where else could he go? A guy looking like that in his industry? Probably ran off with a sugar mama.”

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While my husband’s new electric car was charging, he and his mistress couldn’t resist getting intimate inside. They didn’t expect it, but right at the peak of their passion, the car spontaneously combusted. By the time I arrived, the fire was already raging. My husband, naked, banged frantically on the window, screaming at me: “Save me!” I approached the searing metal. But a second later, I pulled my hand back. “But honey, what should I do? I’m afraid of getting burned.” 1 By the time I rushed to the parking garage, the brand-new EV had been burning for a while. My husband, Richard, and his secretary were naked inside, pounding on the windows. “Lin, save me! Get help!” It was 11 PM at his office building. The open-air parking lot was deserted. I grabbed a fire extinguisher and sprayed the car, but it was like spitting on a bonfire. “I already called 911. The fire trucks are coming!” I stared blankly at the scene, feeling nothing inside. I never thought these two cheaters would meet such an end. But in a split second, I snapped back into the role of the concerned wife. I rushed toward the flames like a madwoman, braving the heat to try and open the door. But this model had flush handles, and with the power cut from the fire, the doors were locked tight. I couldn’t open them. “Lin, please! Think of something! Save me!” “I promise, if I get out of here alive, I’ll be a good husband. I’ll treat you right.” Richard’s voice cracked with tears, his eyes full of terror and despair. “For the sake of our past, please save me!” Beside him, his mistress, Mia, was choking on smoke and sobbing. “Sis, I was wrong.” “I’ll never seduce Mr. Sterling again, please save me!” I approached the fire again. As my palm neared the metal, the heat stung, and I instinctively recoiled. I looked at Richard through the flames as if he were a stranger. Then, mouthing the words slowly so they could see: “But what should I do? I’m afraid of getting burned.” Sirens wailed in the distance, red lights flashing in the night. “Lin, you’ll regret this!” Richard’s roar echoed from inside the fire, but I didn’t care anymore. They brought this on themselves. Luckily, they weren’t burned alive. Firefighters pulled them out in a bizarre, intertwined position. I stomped out a smoldering pair of lace panties near my foot, smiled faintly, and followed the ambulance to the hospital. In the ER, time was money. “Are you family?” “I’m his wife!” The doctor looked at me with sympathy. “Your husband took performance-enhancing drugs, causing engorgement. He’s currently… stuck inside the other patient and cannot be removed.” I feigned a breakdown, collapsing to the floor and wailing. “Doctor, please! Save my husband!” “I can’t live without him!” Nurses held me up as I swayed. “Ma’am, you need to be strong.” “Both patients suffered severe burns, causing extensive fluid leakage. Their skin has fused together, including… the genitals.” “We need to operate immediately to separate them, or both their lives are in danger!” “But… there’s a cost.” I looked up through teary eyes, suppressing my delight. “As long as you save my husband! I’ll pay any price!” 2 “We need to amputate the male patient’s genitals to separate them safely. However… this will affect marital life.” Richard, still pressing down on Mia, had inhaled too much smoke. His throat was ruined; he could only make incoherent noises. Beneath him, Mia whimpered weakly. “Cut it off! Please, just cut it off! I want to live!” I squeezed Richard’s swollen hand hard. He gritted his teeth in pain. “Hubby, you said you and Mia were true love!” “I believe even without that part, she’ll still love you just the same!” Mia’s eyes were red. “I love you! Richard, I love you no matter what! Let them cut it! I’ll take care of you forever!” Richard tried to struggle. He stared down at Mia, a low growl vibrating in his throat like a demon. Mia trembled, begging, “Richard, I’ll serve you like a slave for the rest of my life!” “I love your money! No… I mean, I love you! Even without that thing, I’m yours!” Richard looked at her, eyes seemingly full of deep emotion. He turned his head to meet my gaze. I saw resolve in his eyes. He nodded forcefully. Afraid he’d change his mind, I quickly signed the consent form. The red light of the OR turned green. After surgery, Richard went into a hyperbaric chamber. Mia, with no family present yet, was sent to a regular ward, hanging on by a thread. I stood by the observation window, looking at Richard wrapped like a mummy. Memories of our years together flooded back. We were college sweethearts. I stayed with him while he built his business from nothing, suffering through hardships, thinking we’d eventually enjoy the fruits of our labor. I remember our first office was a converted basement. In winter, we huddled in down jackets on the floor. In summer, we survived on three fans. He’d have a 102-degree fever and still edit contracts. I’d wipe him down with alcohol to cool him off. Back then, he always said when the company took off, he’d buy me a big house. Who knew that once he got money, he’d fall for a fresh college grad? His reason for divorce was laughable. “Mia came from a small town to the big city. It’s not easy for her. I don’t want her to suffer anymore.” She couldn’t suffer, so I had to be the one to suffer. Like I was born to be a doormat. When his first venture failed, I worked days at an investment bank and spent nights drinking with clients to get him funding. He forgot all of that. The first time he asked for a divorce, I cried uncontrollably. I knelt and begged him to remember the days we ate instant noodles in the basement. He pushed me away. “You look disgusting right now.” The second time, I begged him to just live our lives. He threw his wedding ring in my face. “Let’s just end it. Dragging this out is pointless!” The third time, I agreed. He said he could only give me half the assets because giving more would make Mia jealous. I agreed to that too. At that point, I just wanted to escape this wretched marriage. I wiped away my tears, mocking myself. Richard and I were still in the divorce cooling-off period. The doctor said his burns were extensive, infection risk high. Maybe I wouldn’t need to divorce to get all of Richard’s assets. I should be laughing. Just then, my phone rang. I stared at the caller ID: “Mother-in-Law.” My fingers trembled slightly in the antiseptic air. Right, I almost forgot about you. 3 “Lin! Send me some money.” I pressed answer, forcing a sob into my voice. “Mom… we’re at the City Hospital Burn Unit…” “Richard was burned!” “Don’t you dare curse my son!” my mother-in-law screamed. “You haven’t even divorced him yet, and you’re cursing him?” “It’s all your fault! If you hadn’t harassed him, he wouldn’t turn off his phone so much. Now I can’t reach him either.” “You have to take responsibility!” Back when I was trying to save the marriage, I called and texted Richard day and night. He got tired of it, blocked me, and I used different numbers. Finally, he just started turning his phone off. Waiting for his reply was like a black hole, swallowing me over and over. Hearing my silence, she assumed I was submitting. “I’m hiking with my sisters. Send me money!” “Mom, I don’t have money. Richard’s treatment costs thousands a day!” “I’m warning you, stop cursing my son! Transfer the money now!” “If I’m in a good mood, maybe I’ll put in a good word for you with Richard.” “I don’t want much. Just send two million for now!” Before I could speak, the line went dead. Fine. Since she insisted. I grabbed a nurse changing Richard’s dressing. I knelt down, eyes red. “Please tell the doctor… we have no money left. No imported drugs, just the basics!” “We can’t afford the hyperbaric chamber anymore. Can you put a cot in a regular ward? We’ll squeeze.” The nurse tried to pull me up. “Ma’am, don’t panic. I’ll ask the doctor!” Richard was awake. He couldn’t speak, just making guttural noises. I wiped his dry lips with a wet swab. “Hubby, I’m so sorry!” “Your mom just called. She demanded two million dollars.” “I really couldn’t come up with it. You’ll have to suffer a bit!” He got agitated, growling low in his throat. “If you want to blame someone, blame your mother!” “I called her to tell her you were burned, but she said I was lying. She refuses to come back and see you.” “See? You always wanted to leave me. In the end, I’m the only one by your side.” “Boohoo…” Richard thrashed, tearing his wounds. Yellow fluid seeped through the bandages, the smell nauseating. But he was a cripple now. And I was his only family. His life was in my hands. “Are you sure? Changing the treatment plan now… it’s leaving it up to fate.” The doctor confirmed repeatedly. I nodded firmly. “My mother-in-law needs the money urgent. I’m at a dead end.” “Should I call your mother-in-law to confirm?” So, under the doctor’s gaze, I called her. “Lin! Why haven’t you sent the money?! I’m telling you! If you don’t send it now, I’ll make my son kick you out and marry that little vixen!” I lowered my head awkwardly, tears dripping onto my hand. The doctor took the phone, suppressing his anger. “Is this Richard’s mother? This is the City Hospital Burn Unit. I need to discuss Richard’s post-op treatment.” “Burn unit my ass!” “Are you Lin’s side piece?” “Great! You dog couple waiting for my son to be away to scam me!” “Listen, Lin! Send two million right now! Or I’m telling Richard!” “Just wait until I get back, see how Richard deals with you!” “Mom, at least tell me what you need that much money for?” I wailed. “If I send it, what do I tell Richard when he asks?” “None of your business! Do I need to report to you to use my son’s money? Look at yourself, who do you think you are?” She hung up. “Unbelievable.” The doctor stood up, composing himself. “We’ll do as you asked.” To save money, Richard was moved to a cot in the hallway of a general ward. The hallway reeked of disinfectant. The overhead fluorescent lights stung Richard’s eyes, making them water. I thoughtfully put sunglasses on him. “Hubby, now no one can see you crying.” Just like those nights he cheated, he never wanted to see me cry. Not out of pity, but disgust. After taking care of him personally for a few days, I hired the cheapest caretaker I could find. I had more important things to do. 4 I had investigated Richard’s assets when preparing for the divorce. Now it came in handy. Richard had secretly bought a 1,600 sq ft condo after we married—his love nest with Mia. With our marriage certificate, I got the keys from the property management. It was filled with proof of his love for Mia. Ironically, when we got married, we were so broke we couldn’t afford wedding photos. Back then, he held me on a simple wooden bed in a rental, put a soda tab ring on my finger. “One day, I’ll give you the best of everything!” Now, this house stood as irrefutable proof of my pathetic marriage. “Sell this place!” I turned to the agent. “I need it gone fast. Transfer this month.” “No problem, sis!” The agent took photos and videos professionally. “And the other two properties you saw. Sell them all, expedited. Price is negotiable.” “You got it!” I was converting everything related to Richard into cash. Only money never betrays you. I sold Richard’s equity to his company’s rival. He climbed fast these years, making plenty of enemies. Now that he was down, many wanted to watch him burn. By the time I liquidated our joint assets, half a month had passed. When I went back to see Richard, he was agitated, making noises. “Hubby, I finally scraped the money together.” “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the doctors treat you ‘well’.” Richard looked at me gratefully. Those were just comforting lies, like the promises he made back then. “I prepared a special gift for you.” Amidst his expectation, I opened the box. “How do you like this little toy?” “I went to several design firms to get it custom made for your… measurements.” The moment he saw it, his eyes filled with breakdown. I had stepped precisely on his pain point. He let out a hysterical scream, twisting his bandaged body like a bursting maggot. “Seeing you so excited, I knew you’d like it.” “Out with the old, in with the new!” “Look, rechargeable is better. If you and Mia get in the mood later, just push the button. It’s waterproof too.” “Way better than those pills you used to take.” “Technology is amazing, isn’t it? Such a blessing for mankind!” “Mmm… uhhh…” He couldn’t speak. I leaned in close. “Aww, you’re thanking me even like this?” “We’re husband and wife, no need to be so polite.” Because of the fire, Richard’s eyelids were burned off. He couldn’t close his eyes. He could only stare at my smiling face, tears flowing. Maybe he really didn’t want to see me. He pushed his head back against the bed, groaning, trying to turn away. “Too moved for words?” “You know, hubby?” “I contributed a lot to your and Mia’s happiness!” I sneered. “Mia would love this if she saw it!” “After all, she said no matter what you became, she’d serve you like a slave!” “Oops! Wait!” I covered my mouth theatrically, adopting an innocent, weak tone. “She probably can’t serve you in this life.” Richard’s twisted face showed shock. “You’re in the same hospital, didn’t you know?” “Your precious Mia had a massive infection. No saving her. The doctors said they did their best.” I played with a loose thread on his bandage. “But it’s okay. You have the next life!” Richard braced his feet, eyeballs bulging, staring straight at me, screaming with all his might. Only two garbled syllables came out: “Poison… woman!” “Tofu?” I patted his chest symbolically. “Still thinking about eating tofu in your condition?” “You’re so dedicated!” Veins popped on his neck. His bandaged stump twitched under the restraints, his throat making a sound like a broken bellows. “Look at you! Can’t even speak clearly!” “Tools confiscated, and you’re still thinking about that?” BEEP BEEP BEEP… The monitor screamed. Richard’s blood pressure skyrocketed. I ran out into the hall screaming. “Help! My husband is dying!” Richard went back into the ER. While waiting anxiously, my mother-in-law called again. “Lin! I’m begging you, okay? Send me two million!” Her voice was much softer this time. “I can’t reach Richard. Help me. When I get back, I’ll write you an IOU!” “But Mom, Richard is in the ER being resuscitated! We really don’t have extra money!” “Lin!” “Stop lying to me!” Wailing came from the other end. “I can’t reach Richard.” “I really have no choice but to ask you!” “I went hiking and met a fit young guy. I couldn’t control myself.” “But it was a badger game! They took photos!” “If those photos get out, I’m ruined!” Her crying made my head throb. “Mom, for something like this, you should call the police!” “Richard needs money here. I really can’t help.” Just then, the doctor came out. “Gotta go.” I hung up and rushed over, grabbing the doctor. “How is my husband?”

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I am a special kind of “Spirit Bride,” specializing in performing rituals for men who have just died. The ritual, known as “Passing Joy,” involves transferring the luck of the living to the deceased so they can reincarnate well in the next life. I have successively performed this ritual for thirty-seven dead husbands. The fee is $50,000. It requires not only a bowing ceremony with the deceased but also a wedding night—consummating the relationship. Today, I received the order for my thirty-eighth husband. It was a Friday in early July. I had just turned on my phone and selected a photo of a male model to critique with a professional eye when a strange number called. I picked up, and an anxious female voice came from the other end: “Is this Ms. Sarah Green? My son just died. We need a Passing Joy ritual. Is it convenient for you to come over now?” The other party made further demands. They wanted to perform the ritual twice for their son: once at home in the bridal suite, and once at the cemetery. And she promised: after the ritual was completed, she would give me $130,000 as a fee. I hesitated for a moment but agreed. Although I had never taken a job involving two ceremonies before—usually, it’s just once in the bridal suite, and the cemetery is frankly too scary—the money was just too good. For a professional Spirit Bride, there was no reason to refuse. Refusing would not only mean losing money but also letting my reputation gather dust. I instructed the woman on the phone, who had lost her son, to buy several hot water bottles to warm up his body. This was naturally for my own benefit. After all, the ritual involves intimate contact, and I didn’t want to be hugging a cold, stiff corpse when the time came. Keeping the corpse warm makes it feel almost no different from a living person to the touch. After hanging up the phone, I immediately called my boyfriend of three months, Liam. “Let’s break up! You’re too short; you don’t deserve me!” After saying that, I ignored the crazy screaming from Liam on the other end, hung up, and then blocked and deleted his number and social media. As a professional Spirit Bride, I have professional ethics. I never keep two boats afloat at the same time. Before every new ritual, I decisively dump my current living boyfriend. Because the dead deserve respect too. However, most of the time, these living boyfriends are not willing to be dumped by me. Firstly, it might be a matter of pride. Secondly, although we professional Spirit Brides have thin luck due to the rituals, our long-term deep interaction with dead things has caused our bodies to form a special constitution different from ordinary women. Because we carry heavy “Yin” energy, this energy slowly condenses into a “Yin Bead” in the lower abdomen. Those who possess a Yin Bead naturally emit a strange fragrance from their bodies, a scent sufficient to make all men intoxicated and crazy. After dealing with Liam, I sent a WeChat message to my best friend, Chloe. “Girl, I’m getting married. Remember to send a gift!” She replied quickly. First, a “mind-blown” emoji, then a sharp roast: “Sarah Green, do something human for once. This is your thirty-eighth marriage. The money I’ve given you for gifts over the years could buy a car by now!” Of course, despite her roasting, she still sent me a red packet of $30 with a note: “I’m so poor this month I’m eating dirt. This was my last bit of money for underwear!” I thought about it, plucked a strand of my hair, tied two knots in it, took a picture, and sent it to Chloe: “Don’t worry about having no underwear to wear. I’m gifting you a new style of G-string. Am I thoughtful or what?” After sending that, ignoring Chloe’s new round of insults, I packed my luggage, shouldered a hiking backpack, and went out. I followed the location sent by the employer’s family and took a taxi. Two hours later, I arrived at a village in the western suburbs. “Sir, please wait a moment. I’m going to change my clothes in the car!” I said this and opened the hiking bag to take out my gear. The taxi driver had made a few hundred bucks on this trip alone, so his attitude toward me was quite good. Hearing this, he actively got out of the car to give me privacy. A few minutes later, I got out of the car changed. At this moment, I was dressed in a bright red traditional Chinese wedding gown—a Xiuhe suit—wearing a phoenix crown and hairpins, red embroidered shoes on my feet, and a red veil on my head. However, because I still needed to see the road, the veil was not lowered to completely cover my face. The taxi driver stared blankly. “Miss, are you… holding a wedding?” I nodded. “Yes, everyone is waiting for me to perform the ceremony!” The driver was half-surprised, half-judgmental. “Why are you, the bride, alone? Is there no one to pick you up or send you off?” I smiled sweetly. “My husband isn’t a living person, so he can’t come to pick up the bride!” “Holy sh*t!” The driver’s face turned pale. He hurriedly pulled open the door, dived into his car, and sped away in a flash. Following the information provided on the phone, I soon found the old mansion in the village and met the woman who called me. The woman’s name was Peggy. She was in her fifties, dripping with gold and silver, dressed like a wealthy lady, but currently, her face was full of grief. Besides her, there was a middle-aged man. According to Peggy’s introduction, his name was Norman, the master of this mansion and the father of the deceased. After seeing me, Peggy looked me up and down, then nodded, forcing a smile. “Ms. Green is truly beautiful. My son had a hard fate, but at least he has some luck in the end!” Norman also nodded at me. “Sorry to trouble you, Ms. Green!” I nodded slightly. “You are too polite! It’s getting late, let’s hurry up with the ceremony. Where are the things I asked you to prepare?” Peggy said, “Everything is ready!” Saying that, she waved her hand, and someone immediately brought over a large red rooster. I opened my hiking bag, took out a writing brush and red paper, and then asked Peggy for the relevant information, including the name, age, birth date and time, and cause of death. Peggy rambled on, saying a lot in one breath, crying and laughing intermittently. It was clear she was very sorrowful about her son’s sudden death. After she finished, I extracted the following useful information: My prospective husband for this ritual was named Nathan. He was Norman’s only son, twenty-seven years old. After graduating from Tsinghua University, he got his Master’s at Stanford. Born in the year of the Horse, September, between 7 and 9 AM. Died of heart disease. I picked up the brush and wrote Nathan’s name and birth details on the red paper, then pasted it onto the big rooster. Finally, the big red rooster took Nathan’s place and completed the bowing ceremony with me. After bowing to heaven and earth, Peggy led me to the bedroom. Naturally, Nathan’s corpse was waiting for me in the bedroom. Before leaving the bedroom, Peggy earnestly instructed me: “Sarah, having bowed to heaven and earth, you are the wife. Mom will speak frankly. Nathan grew up so big, always busy with his studies and career, he never even had a girlfriend. Mom is begging you, treat him well later, let him have a perfect wedding night experience! Mom will give you an extra $15,000 in a red envelope!” Hearing there was an extra bonus, I immediately stated my position: “Mom, you are too polite. Don’t worry, I guarantee Nathan will be the happiest man tonight! Of course, if you sympathize with us younger generation and insist on giving $30,000, I will definitely work even harder!” The bonus directly doubled! Peggy was probably shocked by my shamelessness, her mouth gaping. After a while, she nodded. “$30,000 is no problem, but I want to make one thing clear. I will bring a doctor over tomorrow morning to check. Sarah, don’t think about fooling me!” “Mom, you have to believe in a daughter-in-law’s professional ethics!” “Mom believes you! By the way, Sarah, give me your phone for safekeeping first. I don’t want certain photos of my son spreading in the future. I hope you can understand!” I could indeed understand this request, so I casually took out my phone and handed it to her. Peggy then left satisfied, thoughtfully closing the door behind her as she went. After Peggy went out, I scanned the furnishings of the bedroom. Two large red candles were lit on the nightstand. A male and a female paper doll with painted red cheeks stood at the head and foot of the bed. This scene might seem weird to others, but I’ve seen it a lot, so I didn’t feel anything special. I walked towards the bed on my own. Finally, I was going to see the object of my ritual this time. I wondered what he looked like. Okay, I admit I’m shallow about looks. I saw a young man lying face up on the bed. His eyes were closed tight, his chest didn’t rise or fall at all; clearly, a genuine corpse. However, even with his eyes closed, one could still see his sword-like eyebrows, thin lips, chiseled face—extremely handsome. And his nose was tall and big. I couldn’t help but reach my hand under his white shirt. First I felt the warm… hot water bottles, and then under the hot water bottles, I felt hard abdominal muscles. I felt around carefully and counted. Tsk, a full eight-pack! The sexual tension was maxed out! “Nathan, nice to meet you. Let me introduce myself, I am Sarah Green, here to pass joy to you. I heard you’ve never had a woman before? You really are a rare man! Now please lie still and don’t move, I’m going to start fulfilling my duties as a Spirit Bride!” Nathan was obedient, lying there honestly without moving a muscle. Of course, I knew a corpse couldn’t move. Saying this was purely to relax the atmosphere and add some flavor, similar to the “you just lie there and let me do the work” scenario. As a professional Spirit Bride, I am diligent and responsible. At this moment, through psychological suggestion, I had safely placed myself in the role of a newlywed wife. Nathan was my husband, and I could do whatever I wanted to him. “Hubby, sleeping in clothes is uncomfortable. Wifey will help you take them off!” After reciting that, I stripped off Nathan’s clothes and pants one by one, stripping him completely bare. “Hubby’s skin is so white, and his body is very fit! Wow! People say those with big noses are gifted, and sure enough, that saying is true!” Then I took off my own clothes, climbed onto the bed, and lay down beside Nathan. “Hubby, have you ever been touched by a woman here? What about here? And here?” “Hubby don’t worry, wifey will be gentle with you!” Because Nathan’s parents had followed my instructions earlier to keep the corpse warm, the body was still soft. To the touch, aside from the body temperature being lower than a normal person, it wasn’t too stiff. Then I turned Nathan over, making him lie face down on the bed. The principle needed here isn’t complicated: blood flows to the lowest point. After a full half-hour, I turned Nathan over again, letting him lie flat. Then I jumped up and straddled Nathan’s waist. Suddenly, my eyes widened. Because I clearly felt Nathan’s waist actively thrust upward once. I gasped subconsciously. And those two paper dolls standing at the head of the bed, unbeknownst to me when, had turned their heads, facing the bed, as if expecting a good show… Enduring the softness in my bones, I quickly rolled off and couldn’t help but put my hand on Nathan’s chest to feel. He still had a heartbeat! I thought it was my illusion, so I pressed my ear against his heart. Listening to that not-so-strong heartbeat, I finally confirmed: this man, he isn’t dead yet! When I touched his body earlier, I actually felt something wasn’t quite right. According to my calculations, this man’s time of death, by now, should have been over five hours ago. A corpse begins to stiffen between half an hour to two hours after death, and the subsequent time involves continuous stiffening and cooling of the body. Even with hot water bottles applied, after so much time, the body couldn’t possibly still retain elasticity like a normal person, nor could every part still hold warmth. This meant that this man had not completely lost his life! It was too late to send him to the hospital now; he might actually kick the bucket on the way. So, I decided to use the first-aid methods I learned in college to try and bring him back. So I rubbed his body to promote blood circulation while using my own body to provide him warmth, and occasionally gave him artificial respiration. After all, I was saving a life, so I didn’t care about the details. Plus, I took hundreds of thousands from them, and he was a super handsome guy, so it wasn’t a loss. After working for about two hours, this handsome guy coughed a few times and finally opened his eyes. I looked surprised and was just about to go out and tell them the good news. I believed my temporary in-laws would be very happy to see their son wake up. Maybe they would even reward me heavily for saving their son. However, just as I got out of bed, the man’s hand grabbed me. “Don’t go out. They… they aren’t good people!” I widened my eyes, not understanding what he meant.

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As the New Year’s Eve countdown began, my husband suddenly said, “She waited for me for nine years. In the tenth year, I don’t want to disappoint her anymore…” I swallowed the sweet candy in my mouth. “She? You mean Chloe?” He didn’t answer. But he didn’t know I had already seen the diamond ring he hid. I picked up the phone and dialed. “Professor, I volunteer for the Time Regression Experiment. Send me back ten years.” The man on the other end was silent for a moment. “If it fails, you won’t survive.” If I don’t go, I won’t survive anyway… 1 Two days. Professor Chen said the preparation would take two days. Once the experiment started, I might cease to exist in this world. “If you need to, say goodbye to your loved ones,” he said. But it was New Year’s Eve. A day for family reunions. My phone was silent. Not even a generic “Happy New Year” mass text. I… ran out of loved ones a long time ago. In the dark, I let the phone ring for a long time. Finally, the other side picked up, complaining immediately: “It’s New Year’s Eve, why are you calling now?” My mom’s background noise was chaotic. Someone shouted, “Sis! Come quick, your daughter is here!” My mom answered cheerfully. She sounded so happy, but her tone dropped when she spoke to me. “Your sister is sensitive about you, you know that. You don’t need to call for New Year’s. If it’s nothing important, don’t call.” Click. My phone screen lit up. The call ended. Right. I forgot. After my mom remarried, she never wanted to hear from me again. In the living room, I heard the rustle of clothes. Julian put on his leather shoes and pushed open the bedroom door. He hesitated, then said, “I’m leaving.” I looked up. “Going to be with her?” Julian pressed his lips together. His gaze softened slightly, lowering his voice to persuade me. “Chloe stayed in the city just for me. I can’t let her spend New Year’s alone.” I didn’t know how to react. I just sat there, dazed. My eyes stung, but no tears came. Julian walked into the bedroom, reaching out as if to pat my head, but stopped halfway. He didn’t touch me. He said, “Stay home. I’ll… be back as soon as I can…” He turned and left. Slam. The door closed. The brightly lit apartment suddenly felt empty. Only his fresh footprints remained on the floor. 2 That night, Julian didn’t come home. I sat alone in the living room. From dusk until dawn. Until my phone rang. It was a nurse from the hospital. Her voice was gentle. “Ms. Li, don’t worry. With active treatment, recovery is possible. You have a long life ahead of you…” I was surprised she had my number. The young nurse sounded a bit shy. “That day, you looked so down, so I secretly wrote it down. I wanted to tell you, you have a great life ahead. Don’t give up…” I didn’t interrupt her. I looked out the window just as a mediocre firework exploded in the sky. It seemed to burn my eyes. I said, “Thank you.” But the words “I won’t give up” stuck in my throat. I couldn’t say them. After hanging up, I saw a new post on Instagram. Julian posted it. [Having you by my side is my greatest pride.] The picture was of a hand. Wearing a dazzling diamond ring on the ring finger. Our mutual friends liked it. [Julian, showing off even after all these years?] [Bought the wifey another ring? So jealous.] Julian replied to everyone: [Not Leah.] This time, the comment section went silent. No one congratulated his happiness anymore. I stared at that photo for a long time. Screenshotted it. No comment. 3 New Year’s Day. No food delivery available. I found a pack of dry noodles and cooked them. The phone rang. Julian’s voice was apologetic. “Still busy. Eat something first, I’ll be back soon.” Next to him, a woman’s voice, full of joy. “Julian, let’s eat at that place.” Julian’s voice was helpless but indulgent: “Don’t rush, let me park first.” The woman whispered, “Forgot you were on the phone. Is it Leah?” Julian hummed a yes. And then. His voice was cut off, as if someone sealed his lips. A muffled groan. The breathing on the other end quickened. I was silent for a moment, then reminded him flatly: “If you’re going to hook up in the car, please hang up first.” A few seconds later, the sound of a car door closing. Julian spoke again. “Leah, don’t talk nonsense.” On the other end, Chloe’s cheerful voice: “Julian hurry up~” Shop staff yelled: “Happy New Year, welcome!” I didn’t speak. Silently hung up. I didn’t want to hear their happiness. At that moment, I smelled something burning in the living room. The pot of noodles had boiled dry and stuck to the bottom. I exhaled gently. Turned off the stove and called the Professor again. “Not ready yet?” The man on the phone sighed. “The technology isn’t perfect. Once it starts, I have zero guarantee I can bring you back. Leah, have you really decided?” “Yes.” I was incredibly serious. “I’ve decided.” 4 When I arrived at the lab, it was completely dark. Professor Chen was waiting for me at the door, looking conflicted. “They say you lived a happy life after marriage, husband rich and loving.” I smiled. “But what they say is useless.” The Professor fell silent. Before stepping into the lab, my phone rang. Julian sounded surprised: “Where are you? Why aren’t you home?” He knew me. He knew I had nowhere to go. Or maybe because I didn’t respond for a long time, Julian said in a low voice: “Don’t be emotional, Leah. You and Chloe don’t conflict.” “Do you know, Julian? There’s something I never told you.” “What?” “Trash like you makes me sick.” I hung up. I found the screenshot and posted it online. [Wishing my husband and Miss Chloe a hundred years of happiness!] Next moment, I turned off the phone completely. Professor Chen’s expression was complicated. “I thought that call would change your mind…” I closed my eyes. “Professor, goodbye.” Opening my eyes again, I glimpsed his red-rimmed eyes. “I’ll find a way to bring you back… Leah, don’t say goodbye to me…” 5 Turns out there’s no weightlessness in the time capsule. Opening my eyes again, I was on the most familiar street in my memory. Not far away, a girl was sitting on the steps, hugging her knees, crying silently. I walked over. Gently touched the top of her head. She jumped. Stared at me with teary eyes. Of course I knew her. This was my 21-year-old self. The Professor’s time regression had a deviation; it brought me back nine years. This was the first year I was with Julian. I wanted to tell her. I am you from nine years later. But I couldn’t hold back the pain in my chest and started coughing violently. Little Leah was so scared she forgot to cry. She hurriedly patted my back. She said, “Why does my heart hurt when I see you?” I wanted to tell her, I am you. But before I could speak, the taste of rust filled my mouth. I lost consciousness. I suddenly remembered the causal paradox the Professor mentioned. Unknown information source violates the law of conservation of information. So I couldn’t tell my past self: Don’t be with Julian…

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My three-year-old daughter was mauled by a vicious dog and died at the hospital. I went to the dog’s owner for answers. He turned, pointed to a simmering pot on his stove, and said, “A life for a life. The dog is dead. What more do you want?” A week later, that same dog owner was kneeling at my door, begging for my forgiveness. “Just tell me,” he pleaded. “How much money? I’ll pay anything.” 1 Just last week, the weather was perfect. I took my daughter, Lily, to the park to collect leaves. She was wearing a little yellow polka-dot outfit, a tiny mushroom squatting in the grass. “Mommy, look! This one is shaped like a heart.” She turned and held up her little hand to show me, then carefully placed the leaf in her small basket. I was taking photos from different angles, editing a caption for Instagram. That’s when the dog, a massive pit bull, lunged at her. I… froze. My mind went completely blank. By the time I snapped out of it, a crowd had gathered. The police were there. An ambulance was coming. My little mushroom was covered in red flowers. Lily was sobbing. “Mommy, it hurts…” 2 Lily had two deep lacerations on her face, one on her eyebrow and one on her cheek. Half of her nose was gone. Her lip was torn open. Her arms and legs were covered in bites. I was luckier. Two deep tears in my right arm, the rest were scratches. “Your arm wound is deep, it needs stitches,” the doctor said. “Keep it dry. Be careful.” After the rabies shot, he began cleaning my wounds. I just clenched my jaw and endured the pain, silent. Tears just kept falling, hot and heavy. I couldn’t imagine the pain my daughter was in. 3 Lily was unconscious. The doctors said she wasn’t out of the woods. The police found the dog owner, “Mitch.” They wanted us to try and mediate. But he didn’t apologize, didn’t offer compensation, and never came to the hospital. The police said they couldn’t force him to do anything yet and suggested I pursue a civil lawsuit. I went to his house myself. His voice was louder than mine. “Why didn’t it bite anyone else? It only bit your kid?” “Your brat must have provoked my dog.” “You can’t watch your own kid, and you’re blaming me?” He turned and pointed to a stew pot on his stove. “A life for a life. The dog is dead now, aren’t you satisfied?!” “You want me to die too, is that it?” “I haven’t asked you to pay for my dog!” 4 I posted the story of Lily’s attack online, hoping the authorities would intervene and get her justice. But the trending topics were all celebrity gossip. Starlet A grew her hair out for a movie! So dedicated! Starlet B’s drunken scandal! Starlet C and D have the same phone charm! My video got no traction. [Sister, you’re doing it wrong. Your title isn’t clickbaity. The cover photo doesn’t grab anyone.] A stranger DMed me. I thought for a long time. I redid the cover photo with a selfie of my own scratched face. I changed the title from a statement to a question. Sure enough, the views climbed. And the comments poured in. Most were sympathetic and angry. But then came the weird ones. [My dog is a sweetheart, he would never bite.] [Who cares? Some people are terrified of dogs.] [All big dogs should be banned!] [Why ban them? Not all dogs attack.] [Right, dogs are so cute. They don’t bite without a reason.] [It was probably the bratty kid who started it. Kids are terrible these days. I saw two kids throwing rocks at a dog last week. They deserve to be bitten.] [Yeah, too many kids aren’t disciplined.] Every hot topic brings out the weirdos, people who love to preach their own morality. Today’s internet is always so “righteous.”

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After saving a stray cat by chance, I started receiving weird texts. [How dare you touch my head today…] [And rub my belly…] [But you did help me.] [I will allow you to be my subject…] [U there?] [Fine, if you want a different reward, that is acceptable.] [U there?] [Is your phone broken?] [Did you not get my messages, or are you ignoring Cat on purpose?] [I saw you today.] (Message retracted) [Cat can provide for you.] [Will you talk to me?] [You can pet Cat’s head.] [And rub belly.] 1 It was a Monday night, 11 PM, and I was finally heading home after overtime. At the intersection just before my apartment complex, I hit a red light. Typical. The streets were dead empty at this hour, but I stood there like a chump, waiting for the light to change. That’s when I saw it. A cat. Under the orange glow of the streetlamp, its fur shimmered with a soft light. It ignored me completely, strutting across the street with an arrogant, graceful gait. I watched its slender tail twitch with each step. I really wanted to pet its round head and scratch its back. But then I saw its eyes. Cold, disdainful. That cat looked mean. So I held back. Just as it was about to reach the other side, a low hum grew rapidly louder. I looked up. A massive delivery truck was blowing through the red light, barreling straight toward the cat. The driver’s face was red through the window—drunk driving, probably. The cat was too low, right in the driver’s blind spot. The truck was moving too fast. He had no idea his wheels were about to crush a life. 2 I didn’t think. I just reacted. I dropped my bag and lunged, scooping the cat up by its middle. I curled around it, hugging it to my chest, and rolled across the asphalt. We narrowly missed the speeding truck. It roared past behind me, leaving a cloud of choking exhaust. The cat in my arms struggled violently. I reached up and patted its head gently. It paused, then finally settled down. The truck disappeared. The street was quiet again. I sat up, still holding the cat. Now that I was close, I saw it was a Maine Coon, dark grey and black. Maybe from the squeeze, its fur was sticking out in all directions like a sea urchin. And in the center of that fluff were piercing azure eyes. It stared at me, pupils narrowed into dangerous slits. It seemed angry. But an angry kitten is just cuter. It was late, but I wasn’t in a rush anymore. I sat on the curb and carefully smoothed down its ruffled fur. It looked fierce, but it was warm and soft. It was restless, trying to escape. I grabbed one of its front paws. Its paw pressed against my leg. It looked up, suddenly bringing its face close to mine. I stared blankly into those blue eyes. Up close, they looked like a deep ocean. Then, suddenly, it hissed at me. Impatience? Or anger again? What a grumpy cat. I smiled and rubbed its round head, flicking its thin, fuzzy ears. It seemed stunned. I’d never seen a cat look surprised before. After the shock, it hissed louder, baring sharp fangs. Like it was scolding me for my rudeness. Or trying to intimidate me. But I just found it adorable. 3 I fumbled for my bag, trying to find a snack for it. Nothing. All the shops on the street were closed. So I tugged its paw apologetically. “Sorry, I don’t have any food for you.” It kept staring at me with those fierce blue eyes. I didn’t care if it understood. I just kept talking. “Are you hungry?” I asked. No response. I reached down and rubbed its warm belly. The cat flinched. Then it slipped out of my hands like liquid, hissed at me one last time, and in a fit of pique, bit my sleeve before disappearing into the darkness. After it left, I saw the teeth marks on my cuff. And on my leg, a dusty paw print it left behind. So cute. 4 I didn’t chase it. Once it was gone, the adrenaline faded, and I felt the stinging pain in my arm and knee. I checked under the streetlamp. Scrapes and bruises from rolling on the ground. The next morning, the news reported a drunk driver arrested at an intersection. Seeing the familiar truck on TV, I thought of the cat’s cold, disdainful blue eyes. But only for a moment. I had to dive back into the exhausting grind of work. My first year in the corporate world was brutal. The pressure left no room for anything else. It wasn’t until about two weeks later that I noticed the weird texts from a strange number. The first two were bizarre: [How dare you touch my head today…] [And rub my belly…] Touching head, rubbing belly—intimate actions. I frowned, looking at the weird 7-digit number. I assumed it was a phishing scam. But scrolling down, two days later: [But you did help me.] [I will allow you to be my subject…] Subject? Like a king’s subject? Wait. The cat. Reading this, I suddenly remembered the stray I saved two weeks ago. That cat was so arrogant and beautiful. Even after weeks, I remembered its blue eyes, its disdain, its soft grey fur. I scrolled up. Was this the owner?

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I married a rich man with a daughter for $500,000. I didn’t expect to start seeing floating text like a Twitch chat stream: [Yes! Finally the evil stepdaughter gets tortured!] [Evil stepmom meets evil stepdaughter. Villains grinding villains! I love it!] [With the stepdaughter’s scheming, this stepmom won’t last a few years.] I glanced at my stepdaughter. Scheming is good. It means my daughter is smart and independent. 1 This was my first family gathering after marrying into the Sterling family. The extended family was huge. Everyone wore polite, plastic smiles, creating an illusion of harmony. I tried my best to blend into the background. But my thirteen-year-old stepdaughter, Sophia, pulled out her phone and played a video for the table. “Did you marry my dad for his money?” “Partly, I guess. You’re just a kid, don’t overthink it.” “Rest assured, your dad and I won’t be giving you a little brother.” My voice echoed from the phone speaker. My in-laws’ faces turned black as coal. “Oops, wrong button,” Sophia gasped, feigning innocence, but the corners of her eyes betrayed a smug delight. Instantly, a dozen pairs of Sterling eyes turned to me. Some looked ready for drama, others smirked. Everyone was waiting for a show. “Richard, what is the meaning of this?” My father-in-law said my husband’s name, but his cold gaze dissected me. Richard snatched the phone from his daughter and glared at her. “Dad, she’s just a kid, don’t mind her. Let’s eat, let’s eat.” My mother-in-law tapped the table lightly. The sound was soft but cut through Richard’s words instantly. She sighed. “Richard, Sarah. You’re newlyweds. I understand not wanting kids right away. But the Sterling family needs a male heir to carry on the line.” “Richard only has two daughters. Sarah, you’ll have to work hard.” I blinked. From the moment the video started, the floating text in front of my eyes exploded. [Holy crap, the villainess strikes! Embarrassing the stepmom in public!] [Stepmom is screwed. In-laws will hate her, husband will resent her. No man likes hearing his wife is only there for the money.] [She’s this evil at thirteen? Can’t imagine what she’ll do to my precious heroine later!] [This mother-in-law is disgusting too!] [Of course she has to put the daughter-in-law in her place. This is the Sterling family.] So what if it’s the Sterling family? I opened my mouth. “It’s not me working hard. It’s my fate that’s hard.” My mother-in-law’s fake smile froze. “Didn’t Richard tell you? Years of smoking and drinking have tanked his sperm count. He can’t have kids.” Dead silence. Richard shot up from his chair, glaring daggers at me. “Honey, I know it hurts your pride, but we can’t hide this forever. Better to be honest.” My mother-in-law’s voice went up an octave. “Richard! Is this true?!” His face went from green to white. Finally, he choked out, “Mom, I’ll talk to you later.” I wanted to laugh, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw my stepdaughter frowning deeply. 2 The first time I saw Sophia, the floating text warned me she was trouble. Deep schemer. Unscrupulous. She was fiercely protective of her biological mother and hostile toward her father, let alone a stepmother like me. On my first day in the Sterling house, her attitude was cold but restrained. But when I picked up a peony from a vase, she charged at me and snatched it away. “Don’t touch my mom’s things!” The flower was wilting anyway; the snatch destroyed it completely. She enunciated every word: “Every chair, painting, and flower arrangement in this house was chosen by my mom. You are not allowed to touch a single thing.” I looked at her trembling hands and felt a complicated emotion. She was just a teenager, but her eyes held a sharpness and alertness beyond her years. Like a little wolf with its hackles raised, ready to bite. At first, I thought she just couldn’t accept a stranger invading her territory. So I decided not to fight her head-on. I smiled faintly and withdrew my hand. “Okay. As long as you like it.” But I didn’t expect she had this video trap waiting for me. 3 I remembered the scene in the video. It happened on my third day in the house. She had locked herself in her room all evening. Seeing she hadn’t come down for dinner, I knocked on her door. She let me in but didn’t speak. “If you’re trying to protest, a hunger strike is a terrible method.” “I’m not that stupid,” she said coldly. “Sarah, you were an archery champion. Why did you marry my dad?” I yawned. “Because your dad is rich.” “Did you marry my dad for his money?” I looked at her serious face and smiled. “Partly, I guess. You’re just a kid, don’t overthink it.” She interrupted me. “My dad has a lot of illegitimate kids outside. Even if you have a son, getting the inheritance won’t be easy.” Weird. Do teenagers know this much these days? She sounded like a cynical adult. “Don’t worry about that. Rest assured, your dad and I won’t be giving you a little brother.” I thought I was being friendly enough, hoping to diffuse her hostility. I never expected she was secretly recording. [This stepmom is weak. Can’t see the villainess’s true colors.] [But the villainess didn’t win either. Her cheap dad is gonna be furious.] Indeed, when we got home, Richard was livid. He raised his hand to slap her. Sophia stiffened her neck, closed her eyes, with a “hit me if you dare” expression. “Hey, stop,” I easily blocked Richard. “You drank too much. Go throw up.” I’m retired, but I was a professional athlete. Shoving a half-drunk man is child’s play. After dealing with him, I turned to Sophia. Sophia flinched. “You said those words yourself. Hitting me won’t change that!” The floating text was laughing. [Finally seeing this brat scared! LMAO!] [She deserves it. No discipline growing up. She’s gonna ruin the male lead later!] I raised an eyebrow. “It’s better your grandparents know sooner rather than later. I’m not mad about that.” “But I am curious about one thing.” “Sophia, why is there a camera in your room?” 4 I watched the video. The angle was from her desk. If she had held a phone up, I would have seen it. She froze, pursing her lips silently. But the text stream knew. [Sophia is a psycho. She installed a camera in her own room.] [For her mom to watch, right? This mother-daughter pair is insane.] [I just hope they don’t hurt my precious Bella.] I was shocked. For her mom to watch? Why? “Did you install it yourself? Why?” Since I didn’t get it, I asked directly. Sophia hesitated before speaking. “It’s your fault.” I was speechless. What? How is this on me? “My mom worries about me being alone here. The camera lets her see that I’m doing my homework every day. If you hadn’t come, she wouldn’t be this worried.” My jaw dropped. Then I squatted down, put my hands on her shoulders, eyes tearing up. “Sophia… I was a rebel growing up. I hated it when my mom read my diary.” “I never imagined there was a child as obedient and sensible as you in this world!” Sophia froze. The text froze. Her face turned red. She stammered, “W-what are you talking about?” “But,” I changed my tone, “everyone has privacy. Your room is your privacy. You have the right not to share it with anyone.” “No matter who it is, even if your closest mom asks for a camera, you can refuse. You know that?” The kid stared blankly for a moment, then suddenly shook off my hands. “My mom didn’t ask for it! What do you know?” Stomp stomp stomp. Her footsteps faded up the stairs. I sighed. If her mom didn’t ask, then she really did it voluntarily. Sacrificing her privacy just to give her mom peace of mind? Sophia breaks my heart.

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It was late. After grinding through a brutal day at work, I fired up my PC, ready to zone out. Ding. An email notification popped up in the top left corner. Subject: [The Mimic Test Suite] I clicked it open. A black-and-white photo loaded instantly. It was a woman. Her mouth was slit open in an exaggerated, impossible grin that practically touched her earlobes. Her eyes were dead, void of any light. Below the image, blood-red text scrolled into view: [If you think this photo is normal, please exit the software immediately.] [If this photo causes you discomfort, please proceed with the test.] 1 “The Mimic Test?” My interest was piqued. Sounded like some edgy ARG or indie horror game. I set my Coke down on the desk. Click. Download. The file was tiny, barely twenty megabytes. I launched it. The first thing that hit me was another black-and-white photo. This time, a young girl. “Whoa.” I actually jumped a little. The girl looked… off. Her eyes were set way too far apart, and her mouth was stretched like a chimp’s. Text appeared: [If you believe this image is normal, we advise you to quit this test.] [If you find this image abnormal or disturbing, you must continue.] Two buttons appeared: [CONTINUE] and [EXIT]. Staring at that grainy, twisted face, a knot of unease tightened in my stomach. I clicked [CONTINUE]. Two new photos popped up. System Prompt: [Click on the image you believe is a Mimic.] One was a smiling middle-aged man. The other was a little boy, also smiling, but his expression was rigid—like his features had been cut out of magazines and glued together. Ideally, a kid shouldn’t look like a ventriloquist dummy, I thought. “That’s the monster, easy.” I clicked the boy. Next round. A selfie of a guy with a long face, and a selfie of a middle-aged guy. I studied them for a second. The long-faced guy had dead eyes. Glassy. I clicked him. “They all have the same tell,” I muttered. “Dead eyes, vacant stares, unnatural mouths. Zero humanity.” I breezed through the next few rounds. I was batting a thousand. Then came the final round. “Holy shit!” I almost knocked my chair over. “That’s literally Mr. Miller from across the hall!” There were two photos. On the left, a normal-looking woman. On the right, my neighbor, Mr. Miller. But in the photo, “Mr. Miller” had his eyes bulged out like a pug, staring into nothing, the corners of his mouth hooked upward in a grotesque smile. “That is messed up. Did they hack his Facebook or something? That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.” I cursed the devs while moving my cursor to “Mr. Miller.” After a few rounds of this training, I could spot a fake instantly. That thing wasn’t human. Click. The screen froze for a second. Then, a new prompt: [Are you still alive?] [YES] / [NO] “Psycho devs. If I wasn’t alive, who’s taking the quiz?” I clicked [YES], convinced this was just some tasteless prank software. The screen glitched again. Harder this time. Blood-red text began to type itself out across the monitor: [CONGRATULATIONS. YOU PASSED.] [WE WILL COME TO RETRIEVE YOU WITHIN ONE WEEK. DO NOT SPEAK. DO NOT OPEN YOUR DOOR. DO NOT ANSWER THE PHONE!!!] [DO NOT LET THEM KNOW YOU HAVE SEEN THROUGH THE DISGUISE.] [IF YOU DO NOT RECEIVE FURTHER COMMUNICATION FROM US IN ONE WEEK…] [GOD HELP YOU.] Bzzzt… The screen flickered violently, then blue-screened. “Great. Just great. Malware.” I reached down to force a restart on my tower. That’s when I heard it. Knock, knock, knock. 2 It was coming from my front door. I stood up, about to yell “Who is it?”, but the warning from the screen flashed in my mind. I hesitated. Barefoot, I crept to the entryway and peered through the peephole. “Mr. Miller!” It was my neighbor. But looking at him through the fish-eye lens, my blood ran cold. He looked exactly like the photo. Dead eyes. That same impossible, ear-to-ear grin. “Just like the damn picture…” The cold started at the base of my spine and seized my whole body. Outside, “Mr. Miller” seemed to sense something. He leaned in closer to the door. The knocking turned into pounding. THUD. THUD. THUD. His voice came through the wood, raspy and mechanical, like grinding gears. “O-pen… the… door.” BANG. BANG. BANG. He was hitting it harder now. I could see the doorframe vibrating. “Gabe… let me in…” Do I call 911? He looked like he was about to bust the door down. A call wouldn’t be fast enough. My eyes darted around the living room for a weapon. “Hey! What’s going on out here?” It was Mrs. Higgins from down the hall. “Miller, are you out of your mind? Banging on Gabe’s door at this hour? You woke up my grandson, he’s crying his eyes out!” In the peephole, Miller turned his head toward the sound. That sick smile didn’t waver. “I need to see him,” Miller said. “Jesus, wipe that look off your face, you’re creeping me out.” Mrs. Higgins hesitated, her voice trembling slightly. “Stop banging. Gabe’s probably asleep. Talk to him tomorrow. People have to work.” I heard her footsteps retreat quickly down the hall. In the peephole, Miller watched her go. He stood perfectly still. Then, in a split second, his head snapped 180 degrees back to my door. He leaned forward, pressing one wide, unblinking eye directly against the glass of the peephole. “Shit!” I stumbled back, heart hammering against my ribs. When I looked again, he was gone. “A Mimic… it’s real…” The adrenaline crash hit me instantly. My knees felt weak. I dragged the heavy shoe rack in front of the door as a barricade. I needed to check the computer. See if there were more instructions. Whoosh. A gust of wind blew in from the balcony, billowing the curtains. “The wind is picking up.” I was already jumpy, and the flapping curtains made me flinch. I grabbed the handle to my bedroom door, then paused. “Better lock the balcony sliding door. Just to be safe.” My apartment is on the second floor. The balcony has a glass railing, no safety cage. I went over, slid the glass door shut, and engaged the latch. “And this.” I took a decorative string of bells from the wall and hung it on the handle. If anything tried to turn it from the outside, the bells would fall. Back in my room, I locked the door. My PC had rebooted. The desktop looked normal. “Where’s the app?” I scoured my files. The “Mimic Test” software was gone. Trace elements zero. My mouse clicked uselessly on the desktop. The dread was settling in heavy now. “The Mimics know who I am. And one of them lives right across the hall.” Bzzzz. My phone vibrated on the desk. Unknown Caller. I didn’t answer. I didn’t hang up. I just silenced it and let it buzz. After a minute, it stopped. Bzzzz. It started again immediately. Same number. “Do not answer the phone.” The warning echoed in my head. I powered the phone off and threw it onto the bed. I dove under the covers, pulling the duvet over my head like a kid hiding from a monster in the closet. After a while, the warmth of the blanket calmed my racing heart. “Dammit. I have to pee.” The urge hit me just as I got comfortable. I looked at the bedroom door. No way in hell was I going out there. Who knew what was waiting in the hallway? My eyes landed on an empty iced tea bottle on the nightstand. Desperate times. 3 Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. My alarm screamed at me. I jolted awake. I swiped it off. 8:00 AM. I slapped my cheeks, which felt puffy. “Can’t believe I actually slept through the night with monsters outside.” I turned my phone on. 99+ missed calls and texts. The calls had started at midnight and didn’t stop until 6:00 AM. “Jesus…” Staring at that wall of red notifications made me nauseous. I swallowed hard and forced myself out of bed. “If I act like I don’t know anything, maybe they can’t hurt me? Maybe…” I couldn’t stay in the apartment forever. I had to go out. And the police? Yeah, right. ‘Officer, my neighbor is a skin-walker.’ I’d be in a padded cell by noon. I unlocked my bedroom door. The living room was silent. “Good thing I locked the balcony.” My eyes fell to the floor. The bells. They were sitting on the carpet. “Something tried to get in last night.” I picked them up and gave them a shake. Jingle. “Loud as hell, and I slept right through it.” I washed up quickly. I needed to catch the bus. Creeeak. I opened the front door a crack and scanned the hallway. Empty. “Phew.” I slipped out and pulled the door shut. Out of the corner of my peripheral vision, I saw him. “Mr. Miller” was standing pressed flat against the wall behind my door. He stared at me with those hollow eyes. “Finally… caught you.” Miller flashed that rigid smile and clamped a hand onto my arm. His grip was like a vice. “Hey, Mr. Miller! What’s up?” I forced the words out, my body rigid with terror. “You really… don’t know?” Miller’s head tilted to the side. His two eyes rolled independently in their sockets, swirling like marbles. “Know what? Uncle Miller, let go, I’m gonna be late for work!” Miller seemed to process this. It looked like buffering. After a long pause, his hand dropped. “Alright. See ya, Mr. Miller!” I didn’t wait. I speed-walked to the stairwell, heart pounding. Click… click… click. I could feel his gaze burning into my back. As I turned the corner, I glanced back. His head had slumped completely onto his shoulder, neck broken at an impossible angle. 4 The morning bus was packed with commuters. The mundane misery of the rush hour crowd actually calmed me down. It felt real. I got off at my stop. 8:30 AM. “Thirty minutes to kill. Need food.” I went to my usual spot—a greasy spoon diner near the office. Ordered a coffee and a bagel. The bagel was warm, the coffee hot. It grounded me. Chomp. I finished the bagel and sipped the last of the coffee. I looked out the window. There was an old lady across the street, digging through a recycling bin. Normal enough. But I watched her. She reached in, pulled her hand out, reached in, pulled her hand out. She did this for fifteen minutes straight. Same speed. Same angle. “She’s glitching like an NPC,” I whispered. “NPC…” My stomach dropped. “No way.” I paid the bill and headed toward the office. The sidewalk was narrow; construction on one side, shops on the other. The old lady was blocking the path. “Just ignore it. Pretend you don’t see.” I took a deep breath and walked straight ahead. She was stuck in her loop. Reach in, pull out. Reach in, pull out. As I passed her, I couldn’t help it. I peeked. Her gray hair covered a face like a dried apple. Her hand, black with grime, reached into the bin and came out empty. Over and over. Snap. As if sensing my gaze, her head whipped toward me with mechanical speed. I was already walking past, looking forward. Behind me, the old lady stood frozen, her head twisted backward watching me, while her hands kept digging in the trash. Nobody else on the street seemed to notice.

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After the entire internet canceled me, I flew to Europe to clear my head. While I was there, I beat the living daylights out of a racist hulk of a man on the street. The video blew up on social media instantly. 【Omg, she just effortlessly dropped a 250-pound dude like it was nothing. That is peak womanhood! The ultimate Alpha Female!】 【That woman has guts of steel. Someone find her handle, I need to propose to her right now!】 That is, until the follow-up video revealing my face got posted. Once they realized it was me—the same woman they had been dragging for being a “roid-raging, manly bitch”—the haters went dead silent. 【Queen, please come back! Is it too late for us to beg for forgiveness?】 1 After getting canceled by the whole internet, I booked a one-way ticket to Europe to get away from the noise. You’d think bad luck would stay behind at customs, but apparently, it follows you. My assistant, Ruby, had just run off to grab us some gelato when I heard a loud crash behind me. I spun around. Ruby was on the ground, looking shaken. Standing over her was a mountain of a man—easily 250 pounds of pure aggression. He had a phone on a gimbal pointed right at Ruby’s terrified face, laughing maniacally. “This is what happens when these tourists don’t watch where they’re going! My sidewalk, baby!” It was obvious he had shoved her. And now, he was livestreaming his bullying for clout. My blood instantly hit a boiling point. I muttered a curse word that would make a sailor blush and sprinted over, helping Ruby up. “Did he push you?” “Chloe, I’m fine,” Ruby whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. She tugged at my arm, trying to drag me away. “Look at the size of him. Let’s not make a scene. Let’s just go.” Hilarious. I was already annoyed from being dragged through the mud online. Now this guy was bullying Ruby and being a racist prick? I know a thing or two about fighting. He was the one who needed to accept his bad luck. I calmly walked Ruby over to a bench in the shade, then turned on my heel and marched back. “Apologize. To her, and for your disgusting comments.” Despite my daily gym routine, the biological reality was stark. His shadow completely engulfed me. He stood there chewing gum with his mouth open, looking down at me with pure disdain. He flipped the camera to face me, gave the lens the finger, and sneered. “Look at this little Asian doll. Has to crane her neck just to look at me, but she thinks she’s tough. It’s comedy gold, folks.” Then, he spit his gum out. It landed right on the toe of my sneaker. Right. Reasoning with a guy whose biceps are bigger than his brain is a waste of time. I kicked off my heels. I let out a sharp breath and lunged. You want to mock me? I’ll make you submit. I’ll show you that I’m not just a lady—I’m a heavyweight. Adrenaline gave me a boost I didn’t know I had. Wham. A perfect shoulder throw. I used his own momentum against him, slamming him into the pavement with a sickening thud. One second, this pig was laughing with his chat; the next, he was clutching his back, rolling on the ground like a toddler. God, that felt good. I snatched his phone off the ground. I looked into the camera and unleashed a stream of perfect, colorful English. “Your mouth is writing checks your ass can’t cash, buddy!” “You think you own the street? You don’t even own a belt that fits! You look like a thumb with anger issues!” “You looked real tough standing up, but you look a lot better face-down on the pavement. Had enough?” He didn’t answer. He just groaned. A crowd had started to gather. Ruby was frantically waving at me from the sidelines, practically screaming. “Chloe! Stop! Stop roasting him! You’re a celebrity, remember?!” Whoops. Forgot about that. All I knew was that the adrenaline felt amazing. I pointed the camera back at him. “Look up. Apologize.” He finally got the message. Terror washed over his face as he scrambled backward on his butt, crab-walking away from me while stammering, “Sorry! I’m sorry!” Satisfied, I flipped the camera to selfie mode. “Take a good look,” I said, my voice steady and clear in fluent English. “Right now, he’s the one looking up at me.” I pointed a thumb at my chest, grinning a wild, reckless grin. “Me. Just an average woman.” 2 After the adrenaline wore off, we had to deal with the cleanup. Ruby and I spent the afternoon bouncing between the hospital and the police station. Reporters were already swarming, but Ruby managed to fend them off. She looked devastated. “Chloe, that guy is a somewhat famous streamer. He does ‘pranks’ for views. He was live when you hit him, and bystanders filmed it too. This is going to hit the States in an hour.” “My assistant and my people were insulted. I was defending us. That’s called justice.” Ruby looked like she wanted to cry. “Chloe… but you body-slammed him and then cursed him out like a sailor. People already hate you. This is the nail in the coffin.” I checked her bandage, unbothered. “So what?” I honestly didn’t care. I was the industry’s favorite villain. I was used to breathing and getting hate mail for it. At first, it hurt. The tidal wave of malice used to make me curl up in bed and sob. But eventually, you go numb. That’s why I came to Europe—to mourn my career before I went back home to officially quit. Let them talk. 3 The reason I was “canceled” this time was ridiculous. I was on a reality show called Farm Life. Another actress, Lila Rose, decided to go on a hunger strike to stay “camera skinny,” leaving her too weak to lift a spoon, let alone a shovel. In a clip the cameras “missed,” the “fragile” Lila accidentally knocked over a massive bucket of concentrated fertilizer onto a freshly planted patch. Too much fertilizer kills the soil—it burns the roots. It ruined the team’s progress. We had to spend hours hauling water to dilute the soil. While we worked, Lila stood in the shade, fanning herself. “Sorry guys,” she cooed. “I’m just so petite, I can’t lift anything.” I saw red. I walked up to her, trying to keep my voice level. “Lila, if you’re actually sorry, grab a bucket. Or at least eat a sandwich so you don’t pass out. The tasks are assigned by headcount. Do you realize that every job you ‘can’t’ do is just extra work for the rest of us?” The guys on the team were working themselves to death. I was exhausted. When the episode aired, the editors worked their magic. Lila’s fertilizer accident? Cut. Her lounging in the shade? Cut. Instead, they showed a montage of her “trying her best,” wiping a single bead of sweat from her pale, perfect forehead. She looked like a tragic, beautiful heroine. Then, they cut to me yelling at her until she cried. The internet exploded. 【Who does Chloe Vance think she is? She’s such a bully! Does she have ‘roid rage?】 【Poor Lila! She’s trying so hard! We won’t let you be bullied, baby!】 【Just because Chloe has shoulders like a linebacker doesn’t mean everyone else has to! Leave our delicate queen alone!】 Idiots. All of them. I was done with Hollywood. 4 Between the incident and Ruby’s injury, the vacation was a wash. We flew back to LA early. When we landed, my phone almost vibrated off the tray table. My manager, Linda, was texting me like a maniac. 【Chloe, darling! You are a genius!】 【Do not retire! Look at Twitter! We are about to level up!】 Confused, I opened X (Twitter). The trending topics were insane. #TheKnockoutQueen #AlphaFemaleEnergy #ChloeVanceFightVideo I clicked the hashtag. Someone had filmed the fight from a third-person perspective. It showed the perfect mechanics of my throw. I squeezed my bicep, admiring the muscle I’d built over years of lifting and sparring. The receipts were right there. I started reading the comments. Before they knew it was me, the internet was in love. 【OMG, she just casually flipped a 250lb dude like a pancake. That is peak womanhood!】 【I want her to punch me. Is that weird? That’s weird. I don’t care.】 【Finally, some real strength! I am on my knees!】 Then, the clearer video dropped, and people realized the “vigilante” was the hated Chloe Vance. The tone shifted hilariously. 【Wait… that ninja is Chloe?!】 【Help… I watched the livestream recording. The way she insulted him in perfect English was kind of… hot? Come back, Queen! We were wrong!】 【I never hated her! (Don’t check my history).】 【”Just an average woman.” Girl, if you’re average, I’m a potato.】 【It’s too late to simp now. I work in PR, and I heard Chloe is letting her contract expire.】 【No!!! Don’t go! Is it too late to grovel?】

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At the engagement party I spent over $70,000 planning, my boyfriend was locked in a passionate embrace with my best friend. They were kissing, and on my best friend’s hand was my $30,000 diamond ring. To top it off, my future mother-in-law, the woman I had nursed back to health for three years, was screaming at me, calling me the “other woman”… 1 Today was supposed to be my engagement party to Jason. I rushed into the hotel ballroom, heart pounding because I was running a few minutes late. As I threw open the double doors, the room exploded with cheers and the pop-pop-pop of confetti cannons. Reflexively, I squeezed my eyes shut against the sudden noise. Despite the shock, a wave of pure joy washed over me. This was it. But when I opened my eyes, the joy curdled in my stomach. Standing in the center of the room, bathed in the spotlight, was my fiancé, Jason, locked in a romantic embrace with my best friend, Leah. The crowd was hooting and hollering. “Kiss her! Kiss her!” I watched, frozen, as they beamed at each other, leaning in to seal the deal. I tried to move, but a surge of guests pushed forward to see the “happy couple,” knocking me off balance. Another roar of applause erupted from the front. They kissed. This was my party. I had spent the last month planning every detail, fronting the cash, sweating the small stuff. Jason hadn’t even bothered to look at the venue. And Leah? She had been involved every step of the way. Every time I tried to cut costs, she’d say, “Ava, you only get engaged once. Treat yourself. Don’t be cheap.” Now I understood. I spent a fortune on this party, and it turned out I was just the financier for theirs. Then I saw it. Glinting on Leah’s finger was the $30,000 diamond ring. That ring… the whole selection process had been weird. Jason kept rescheduling our appointments because Leah “couldn’t make it.” He gave me this whole speech about how his family came from nothing, so he couldn’t give me a lavish wedding, but he wanted me to have the ring of my dreams. He said I was too indecisive. He said Leah had a “designer’s eye” and should come along to help. I was naive enough to think he was being thoughtful. No wonder I kept saying the ring felt tight and uncomfortable. He insisted my fingers were just swollen that day. He insisted we buy that specific one. It wasn’t sized for me. It was sized for her. My anger spiked, hot and blinding. I shoved my way through the crowd, ready to tear them apart. 2 Suddenly, something hard cracked against my spine. “You homewrecking trash!” I spun around to see Jason’s mother, Mrs. Lewis, wielding her walking cane like a weapon, her face twisted in rage. Mrs. Lewis had taken a bad fall back in her trailer park two years ago. She was bedridden, developing sepsis because no one was caring for her. Jason had cried on my shoulder about it. Being the soft-hearted idiot I was, I moved her into the city, paid for the best specialists, and nursed her back to health. Now, she could walk with a cane. Back then, Jason and I lived separately. She lived with him, and he hired a caregiver. But he kept convincing me to move in. Once I did, he made me nitpick the caregiver until she quit. I was so blinded by love, I quit my job to care for his mother full-time for two years. My parents were furious. They told me if I chose Jason over my career and dignity, I couldn’t come home. So, when Jason suggested we not invite my parents to the engagement party, I didn’t fight it. Now, staring at the cane, I thought Mrs. Lewis was just confused, maybe her bad balance made her hit me. “Mom…” I started. She swung again. “Don’t you ‘Mom’ me! You’ve been stalking my son, trying to break up his relationship! And now you show up to ruin his big day? You side-chick!” My jaw dropped. Side-chick? The music died down. The room went silent. Everyone turned to look at me. While I was stunned, Mrs. Lewis brought the cane down right on my head. Crack. The world spun. I hit the floor, ears ringing. The whispers around me sounded amplified, like I was underwater. “The nerve of that mistress…” “I recognize her. She used to bring lunch to Jason’s office. I thought she was the girlfriend, guess she was just the side piece.” “Mom! Mom, stop!” Jason and Leah ran over. Leah threw herself in front of the old woman, while Jason knelt to help me up. “Jason, tell them…” I mumbled, blood trickling down my forehead. Leah cut me off. “Mrs. Lewis, please! Don’t blame her. Ava is my friend. She’s just… she implies things about Jason because of me.” She looked up with teary, innocent eyes. It was sickening. “Ava, please just go. I still consider you a friend, but Mrs. Lewis misunderstood the situation.” The adrenaline faded, replaced by a cold, deadly calm. “Jason,” I said, staring him down. “You’re not going to say anything?” Jason leaned in close, his voice a whisper. “Ava, Mom’s having a dementia episode. She’s confused. There’s a scene. I’ll explain everything later.” Then he let go of my arm and stepped back, raising his voice for the crowd. “Miss, I’ve told you a thousand times. It’s never going to happen. I love Leah.” I looked at the three of them. I should have screamed. I should have fought. But instead, I felt a strange sense of peace. The dust had finally settled. I stood up and walked away without a word. Jason chased me to the door, whispering frantically, “Ava, I’m so sorry. You were humiliated today. I’ll make it up to you.” “Okay,” I said. It was my automatic response. I always forgave him. I always thought, he’s had such a hard life, he’s trying so hard. 3 I walked out of the ballroom, but realized I’d left my purse in the bridal suite. I doubled back. As I gathered my things, I heard high heels clicking down the hall. Leah’s voice—high-pitched and distinct—drifted in. I ducked into a small supply closet inside the suite and locked it. “Mom, you were amazing out there! Truly my real mother-in-law.” Leah’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “It’s your fault she was even there,” Mrs. Lewis grumbled. “You said you handled it.” “I did! I told her to go home to get the ring, and I rigged the lock on her apartment door. She was supposed to be trapped inside until tonight.” My blood ran cold. The lock had jammed this morning. Thank God I had the locksmith’s number saved from a previous issue, and he happened to be nearby. It was divine intervention. Jason’s voice chimed in. “Don’t worry, babe. Ava bought it. She loves me too much to suspect anything.” “My son is a catch,” Mrs. Lewis cackled. “She’s lucky she got to breathe the same air as you. You’ve got her wrapped around your finger.” “Exactly,” Jason said. “We just need to keep the act up tonight. Once we get back to the penthouse and the deed transfer is officially recorded, we’re set. Then we’ll get her to pop out a kid. Once she has a baby, she’s tied to the Lewis family forever. Her rich parents will be funding us for life.” They all laughed. It was a grotesque, greedy sound. 4 The “penthouse” Mrs. Lewis mentioned was a luxury condo my parents bought for me. I had been renting while it was being renovated, and Jason eventually convinced me to let him move in. No one had actually lived in the new place yet. Thinking the engagement was happening, I planned to move us in right after the party. I took Mrs. Lewis and Jason to see it a few months ago. Mrs. Lewis had burst into tears the moment she walked in. She wailed about how her son wasn’t good enough, how back in their hometown, people would call him a “kept man” or a “gold digger” for living in a woman’s house. “I raised him to be proud! He can’t be a squatter in his wife’s home! It’s shameful!” She usually smiled at me, so seeing her cry shocked me. “Mom, don’t cry. We just won’t tell people it’s my house,” Jason said, looking panicked. “You’re the most successful one in our family! You’re a manager! How do you not have a house yet?” she sobbed. “My poor life… people will say I dragged you down.” She threw herself on the floor. I was so stupidly in love, so desperate to be accepted. “Mrs. Lewis, don’t worry,” I had said. “I’ll put the title in Jason’s name. Then it’s his house. We’ll be living in his home. He won’t be a ‘kept man’.” “Really?” She stopped crying instantly, beaming. “Then you really are my daughter-in-law. You’re a blessing to the Lewis family.” We went to the County Recorder’s office the next week. They said the paperwork would take a week. But it had been two months, and it still hadn’t cleared. 5 I walked out of the hotel into the blinding afternoon sun. I thought this was going to be the happiest day of my life, but everything had changed. I was surrounded by wolves. Leah and I had grown up together. She came from a broken home, raised by a neglectful father. She was always hungry, always cold. I gave her clothes, I gave her money. I never hesitated. “Ava.” I looked up. My dad was standing there, eyes red. My mom was beside him, wiping away tears. “Dad… I’m so sorry. I…” “Hush now, sweetie,” Mom said, pulling me into a hug. “Let’s go home.” They didn’t say “I told you so.” Mom just held my hand the whole ride. Suddenly, it hit me. “Dad! We have to go back! The condo! If the paperwork goes through, I lose the house!” “Ava, don’t worry,” Dad said, his voice grim. “I won’t let them take anything.” “But…” “Ava, rest,” Mom patted my shoulder. “We didn’t approve of Jason, but you are our daughter. We won’t let you be bullied.” “Dad, I need your help with a lot of things.” I felt strength returning. I wasn’t alone. Jason saw me as a naive doormat because I loved him. I ignored the red flags because I cared. But I wasn’t the type to beg for love after getting slapped in the face. Back home, I told my parents everything. Mom cried multiple times. Afterward, I felt drained and starving. Mom cooked a feast, and I ate until I couldn’t move, then slept for the first time in days. “Sleep, baby,” Mom whispered. “Tomorrow, there’s a good show waiting for us.”

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