I accidentally gave a gift meant for my long-time bias to his teammate. I was about to go explain the mix-up to the staff when I heard my bias, Jiang Ran, scoff. “More worthless handmade junk. I can’t even be bothered to throw it out.” “Can these broke fan-girls stop trying to be stans? It’s f*cking pathetic.” I froze, humiliated. Just then, his teammate, Zhou Yao, quietly picked up the gift box, tucked it away, and then posted on social media. [How can I ever work hard enough to deserve fans this thoughtful? I’ll remember this forever. /heart] Oh. So that’s what it feels like to get emotional value from this. In that case, I’ll just stan the one who’s actually grateful. Later, when my bias found out that gift box contained the lead actor contract for a billion-dollar film, he had a complete meltdown. He spammed his account a hundred times, crying that his fan had sent the gift to the wrong person, and even called the cops to try and get his teammate to return the box. 1 Hearing Jiang Ran’s words, my mind went blank. I had been his stan for almost a year. I’d followed his concerts all over the country. I’d quietly sent him gifts worth well over a million. I never expected him to be so openly disgusted. It was so different from his public persona that I genuinely wondered if I was the problem. Was my first attempt at a handmade gift really that bad? I mean, I get it. The group, LUM, was pretty underrated, but Jiang Ran, as the C-position, was hugely popular, almost A-list. It made sense that he’d have high standards. I was about to find his assistant to explain the mix-up and get the real gift to him, when a social media notification popped up. Zhou Yao had just posted. LUM-ZhouYao: [How can I ever work hard enough to deserve fans this thoughtful? I’ll remember this forever. /heart] I stared at it for a few seconds. The photo was of him, holding my gift box with both hands, smiling with genuine sincerity, completely unaware of the mix-up. My heart felt… complicated. Honestly, Zhou Yao was just as handsome as Jiang Ran. His dancing and vocals were solid, too. But the entertainment industry is cruel. Talent isn’t enough; if you’re not memorable, you don’t get popular. And in this group, Jiang Ran was so bright that he eclipsed everyone else. I looked through the one-way glass into the green room again. Zhou Yao was getting ready to leave. He was carefully placing my gift box into his suitcase, along with a few other small gifts from fans. Suddenly, I didn’t have the heart to ask for it back. He seemed… so sincere. Whatever. The 999 paper cranes inside didn’t have a name on them, just little blessings written on the back. As for the contract hidden in the false bottom… that wasn’t hard to fix. I’d just go home and tell my CEO father not to sign the final papers. The contract would be void. As I hesitated, Jiang Ran and his entourage pushed the door open. He was still complaining to Zhou Yao as they walked out. “Tch. Look at you, like you’ve never seen a gift before.” Zhou Yao kept his head down and said nothing. Everyone else just smirked, clearly used to this. I felt a sour pit in my stomach. I turned to leave, but my phone buzzed. It was Jiang Ran. He was texting me. [Sis, didn’t you say you had a surprise for me?] [I didn’t see your gift.] [?] [You forgot?] [You have one hour to send it to my hotel room. And to make up for it, add that H-brand limited-edition bag I sent you a pic of last week.] I was confused. I’d gotten Jiang Ran’s private contact three months ago from his assistant. It was right after I’d returned from Paris Fashion Week and sent him three pairs of runway-exclusive sneakers. He’d loved them and posted them several times. But he was always cold. He never initiated a text, and only replied with polite “thanks” when he received something. This was the first time he’d ever messaged me. I didn’t understand what he was so angry about. I just replied: [?] I was wearing a mask, standing in the crowd, so he hadn’t noticed me as he walked past. I saw him staring at his phone, his expression annoyed, furiously typing. But I never got a reply. I figured I should at least explain, since I had promised a surprise. I typed out a message explaining the mix-up. When I hit send, a bright red exclamation mark appeared. ? He… he blocked me? He didn’t even give me a chance to explain? I’d been his fan for a year. Not counting tickets, flights, and hotels, or the money I spent on streaming parties, charting, and buying his useless endorsements… I’d spent almost a million on private gifts alone. And because one gift didn’t show up on time, he throws a tantrum and blocks me? A hot flash of anger surged through me. I was about to text my best friend to rant when social media lit up again. Jiang Ran had also posted. 2 LUM-JiangRan: [Babies, please don’t send expensive gifts in the future, okay? It’s the thought that counts. The love between us is a two-way street; it doesn’t need to be measured in money. /love] The photo attached was of him, standing in front of a mountain of luxury brand gift boxes. In the background, a small pile of less-expensive gifts was tossed carelessly in a corner. Heh. He was really working that “two-faced” angle. The anger I’d just suppressed came roaring back. His fans, “The Fuel,” immediately started flooding the comments, praising him. [Jiang Ran and his Fuel are a two-way street forever!] [Oppa, you’re making me cry!] [I see my gift! This is what it feels like to be cherished by your bias!] […] What a touching display. I had to laugh. Ten minutes ago, I would have been one of them. Now… I couldn’t even relate to the person I was ten minutes ago. Was I out of my mind? How did I ever stan this… thing? The “descent” (disillusionment) was instantaneous. Fine. At least I saw his true colors. I was done wasting my energy on him. I was about to unfollow him and delete the app, but I saw a few comments shading Zhou Yao. [lol, same group, but one teammate is so pathetic he has to post about some cheap trash, while our C-position’s warehouse is full. Hilarious.] [Ugh, I bet the other three are jealous and bully our oppa… nooo!] [They should know their place. When are the other three going to just dissolve the group? Stop leeching off our oppa’s fame!] [If they weren’t dragging him down, Jiang Ran would be a global superstar. Hope they all die tonight so they can stop sucking his blood.] These comments had thousands of likes. The anger shot right back up to my temples. Yes, Jiang Ran was good. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have liked him. But he wasn’t that great. His hit song, the one that made him famous? Zhou Yao wrote it. The company just gave it to Jiang Ran to sing. The other members were all talented in their own right. And they never tried to steal the spotlight; they were professional. I couldn’t believe his fans could be so toxic. I’ve done a lot of things in my life, but I’ve never been able to stand by and watch a humble, handsome guy get bullied. Even if he was faking his gratitude, at least he was putting in the effort. On impulse, I went back to Zhou Yao’s post and left a comment. [Oppa, that gift is from me. Make sure you check the bottom layer of the box, there’s a surprise. ;)] 3 After sending the message, I called my best friend to rant while my driver took me home. We spent the next two hours absolutely shredding Jiang Ran. When I finally checked my phone again, it had exploded. Zhou Yao had actually DM’d me. LUM-ZhouYao: [Thank you, baby. I’ll check for the surprise when I get to the hotel.] [That’s so many paper cranes. It must have taken you so much time. I opened a few, and every single blessing inside is different.] [To be honest, I’m ashamed. I’m so far from the person you’re wishing for… but I promise, I will work hard!] I felt a pang of something. I’d sent Jiang Ran so much, and I’d never received this kind of emotional value. I was genuinely touched. I sent him back a [Keep it up!] and logged off. The comments under my reply to him were full of haters. [What era is this? Who still gives handmade crap?] [A pile of paper, and he posts it. Like fan, like bias. No class.] … I was so mad I was about to type up a response, but I just screenshotted it and sent it to my assistant. “Have my lawyer deal with these.” I was done with fan culture. I uninstalled the app. But just as I did, my WeChat started blowing up. Jiang Ran, who had blocked me two hours ago, had unblocked me and was spamming me with messages. [What the hell is your problem?] [You don’t send me a gift, and you give one to my teammate instead??] [I wouldn’t have even known if I didn’t see your logo on his box when I got to the hotel! You switched biases?] [If you’re gonna switch, at least pick someone better, not a f*cking flop.] [And a ‘surprise’? You’re just a desperate old woman trying to buy attention. If it wasn’t for those sneakers, you think you’d ever have my contact?] [Since you switched, don’t you dare ever tell anyone you stanned me. It’s embarrassing.] I always had my gifts stamped with my private seal, a small bamboo shoot, for my name: Song Xizhu. He… he thought I was a “desperate old woman” (老女人)? I was shaking. I sent back a single [?]. A red exclamation mark. He’d blocked me. AGAIN. He gets to rage-text me and I don’t even get to reply?! The nerve! I screen-recorded the entire chat. He must have been so blind with rage to leave a trail of evidence like that. I wasn’t done. Three days ago, my family’s company had finalized the acquisition of LUM’s agency, Starlight Entertainment. I’d been planning to ask my dad to give Jiang Ran all the company’s best resources. Now? Heh. He could forget it. I immediately called my dad. After I told him the whole story, he was furious. “Dad, don’t ban him,” I said. “He makes money. Let him work himself to death for us. But as for resources… if he’s so great, he doesn’t need them.” “Give them to someone who’s actually grateful.” My dad, a seasoned capitalist, agreed. I hung up, finally feeling calm. But my phone immediately blew up again. My best friend. [Xizhu!!! Zhou Yao is desperately trying to find you on social media! He said someone sent him a massive gift and he has to talk to them! The company and his manager are all posting, trying to find you! Your comment is blowing up!] My sleepiness vanished. He’d found the contract. Just then, my phone rang. It was Jiang Ran. 4 I answered, put it on speaker, and hit record. A desperate, crying voice came through the phone. “Sis! Bamboo-sis! I was wrong! I was so wrong!” “I shouldn’t have blocked you! I was stressed! I wasn’t myself! I’m human garbage!” I just listened. “That gift… that gift was for me, right? Zhou Yao doesn’t deserve it! He’s a nobody! Giving him something that important will ruin it!” “Sis, please, talk to your dad! Get the contract back! I’ll kowtow to you! I’ll do anything!” I finally spoke, my voice ice. “Jiang Ran, where do you get the nerve to call me?” “I…” “Didn’t you say I was a ‘desperate old woman’?” “No! I was lying! I have a dirty mouth! Please, sis, you’re better than this, don’t hold it against me!” “Didn’t you say to pick someone better, not a ‘f*cking flop’?” “He’s not a flop! Zhou Yao is my best brother! I… I was jealous! Jealous he had a fan as good as you!” His excuses were pathetic. “Too late,” I said. “The contract has his name on it now. And our company doesn’t employ artists with ‘no morals’.” I hung up and blocked him for good. I checked social media. It was chaos. #ZhouYaoBillionDollarContract #StarlightEntertainmentSearchingForFan #JiangRanMeltdown Zhou Yao and the company were tagging my burner account. And Jiang Ran… five minutes ago, right before he called me, he’d posted a dozen times. He was crying that his long-time fan-sister’s gift had been “intercepted” by his teammate, Zhou Yao. He was heartbroken, and he hoped his “sister” would see this and that his teammate would “return what doesn’t belong to him.” He even attached a selfie, his eyes red and puffy. His “Fuel” fans exploded. They flooded Zhou Yao’s account. [Thief! How dare you steal from your teammate!] [Our oppa was so good to you! You backstabbing snake!] [A flop is a flop. Stealing gifts? Disgusting!] [@LUM-ZhouYao GIVE IT BACK! Or we’ll end you!] Zhou Yao’s thank-you post was now a warzone. I saw red. Fine. You want to air this out? Let’s air it out. I logged into my burner account and posted the screenshots and screen recordings of Jiang Ran’s abusive texts. My caption: [@LUM-JiangRan Bro, stop crying. I switched biases. It’s not his fault. After all, he didn’t call me a ‘desperate old woman’ or say I was ’embarrassing.’ :)] I tagged Starlight Entertainment. And I tagged my father’s personal account. I threw my phone on the bed. You want to fight? You just brought a knife to a nuclear war. 5 My post crashed the servers for half an hour. When they came back, the trending topics had changed. #JiangRanPersonaCollapse [EXPLODING] #JiangRanAbusesFansAudio [EXPLODING] #SongXizhu [EXPLODING] #JusticeForZhouYao [HOT] #StarlightEntertainmentNewCEO [NEW] My burner account gained three million followers. My DMs were chaos. [OMG! This is the drama of the year! Rich fan-sister destroys two-faced idol!] [He dared to say that to his biggest sponsor? The audacity!] [LMAO “at least pick someone better, not a flop.” I’m dying.] [The bamboo logo… wait… that’s Song Xizhu… as in, the daughter of the Song Corporation? He was abusing his new boss’s DAUGHTER?!] [I thought he was stupid. Now I know he’s stupid stupid.] Jiang Ran’s fandom was in flames. My dad’s company moved fast. Starlight Entertainment Official Statement: Starlight Entertainment is now a fully-owned subsidiary of the Song Corporation. Regarding the severe negative conduct of our artist, Mr. Jiang Ran, all his activities are suspended indefinitely, effective immediately. We are proud to announce the greenlighting of the $1 billion S-class film “Heaven’s Ask,” starring our artist, Mr. Zhou Yao. We are grateful to Ms. Song Xizhu for her investment and vision. My dad even retweeted it, adding: [I support all of my daughter’s decisions. You bully my daughter, you answer to Song Corp.] It was over. Zhou Yao, meanwhile, was blowing up my DMs. [Sister… is this… is this real?] [A billion-dollar movie… me?] [I… I can’t. I don’t deserve this. This gift is too much.] [Sis… are you just using me to get back at Jiang Ran? If you are, please… I don’t want to be…] My heart softened. Even now, he was terrified he was just a tool. I replied: [Not to get back at him. It’s because I admire you. Let’s talk about the contract in person. Are you free?] He replied instantly. [Yes! Always! Where are you? I’ll come right now!]

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My “dearest” brother and my fiancé said I bullied their precious savior. To punish me for my “spoiled arrogance,” my fiancé called me a shameless slut on our wedding night, and my brother planned to leak the “news” to every media outlet. I completely snapped. If I was going down, I was taking them all with me. I set the whole place on fire. But somehow, I got a second chance. I woke up, alive. Lily Greene was holding a pair of scissors to her own vixen face, smiling cruelly at me. “If they see my face scarred, Sera, how do you think they’ll torture you?” I snatched the scissors from her hand, kicked her to the floor, and pressed her down with my heel. Then, I carved a dozen, deep, bloody gashes into her perfect skin. “Oh, honey,” I cooed, “a tiny scratch isn’t enough to go crying to them. This… this is how you make a statement. So much better, don’t you think? Just beautiful.” 1 I died on the night that was supposed to be the happiest of my life. At our wedding reception, my new husband, Julian Chenworth, barely glanced at me. He just took the microphone and addressed our guests. “This,” he announced, “is a slut who’s been cheating on me. Just last night, she was with four different men and didn’t come home. I can’t possibly marry such a depraved, disgusting woman.” The ballroom exploded. “She always looked so innocent, but I guess she’s a total freak…” “Well, she is the Vance heiress… maybe that’s what they’re into…” “How did the Vance family produce scum like you?” That last voice was my brother, Marcus. “I’m alerting the press. As of today, Seraphina Vance is disowned!” When I saw Lily Greene peek out from behind him, a triumphant smirk on her face, I understood everything. While the doors were still locked, I cut the power, plunging the room into darkness. Then I grabbed a lit candelabra and threw it at the propane tanks for the catering truck parked just outside the terrace. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Four years earlier. Lily was in my villa, pressing a pair of scissors to her own cheek, creating a tiny red mark. She smiled. “Sera, what do you think Marcus will say when he sees my face is hurt? He’ll probably make you kneel and beg for my forgiveness, won’t he?” The familiar scene hit me like a truck. I was reborn. When I didn’t react, Lily pushed further. “But… if you give me that new diamond necklace Marcus bought at the auction, maybe I’ll be merciful and let you kneel for a little less time.” All the hatred from my past life surged through me. I snatched the scissors from her hand and kicked her legs out from under her. I pinned her to the expensive rug with my stiletto. Amidst her shrieks and cries, I dragged the sharp blades across her face, over and over, leaving a dozen crisscrossing, bloody gashes. “Oh, honey,” I laughed, tossing the bloody scissors aside. “A tiny scratch? That’s not good enough to go crying to them. You need to be bleeding. See? So much better.” Lily scrambled away like a cornered animal, screaming, “Get a doctor! Someone, call a doctor! NOW!” I leaned against the doorframe, feigning boredom. “Call a doctor? Why? This bloody mess is perfect for playing the victim for Marcus, isn’t it?” This was my villa. From the butler to the security, every single person here worked for me. I walked out the front door. “Keep an eye on her,” I told my security team. “Don’t let so much as a fly leave this house.” Lily threw herself against the reinforced glass, pounding and screaming. “You can’t do this to me! Marcus and Julian will destroy you!” “You love this house so much, Lily?” I called back. “Then you can spend the rest of your life here!” I got in my car and drove off. In my past life, I was Seraphina Vance, the perfect heiress: generous, dignified, and tolerant. That included being tolerant of Lily Greene, the “savior” my brother Marcus brought home. But she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a master manipulator who framed me time and time again. She’d cry to Marcus that I, the spoiled heiress, couldn’t stand a “poor girl” like her. No matter how I tried to explain, Marcus never believed me. Even my childhood fiancé, Julian, always took her side. I drove to our family’s main estate. When I pulled up, I saw Julian in the garden, nervously fiddling with his collar, clearly waiting for someone. He looked shocked when he saw me. “Sera? What are you doing here?” I smirked. “Not your precious Lily, I’m afraid. Are you disappointed?” Julian’s eyes darted away. “She’s Marcus’s savior, Seraphina. Are you misunderstanding something?” He’d used that exact line on me a thousand times in our last life, every time I suspected they were too close. He always blamed it on me being “jealous.” I only found out right before I died that Lily hadn’t just saved Marcus. She’d saved Julian, too. What a coincidence. She just happened to be in the right place at the right time to save the heirs to the two biggest fortunes in the city. How convenient for her. Of course, Julian was just using me, the Vance heiress, to stage a coup and oust his older brother at his own family’s company. Once he was the sole heir, he had no more use for me and turned on me at the wedding. I smiled, took a deep breath, and screamed at the top of my lungs. “SECURITY! HELP! THERE’S AN INTRUDER ON THE ESTATE!” The nearby security team and the head butler were on him in an instant, pinning him to the ground. 2 “Wait! It’s all a misunderstanding!” Julian sputtered, his face pressed into the manicured lawn. “I’m Marcus’s friend! Sera invited me!” I thought about him pouring champagne on my wedding dress while calling me a whore. I walked over calmly. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! I hit him three times, hard. He staggered, clutching his face. A flicker of darkness crossed his eyes, but he quickly replaced it with a placating smile. “Sera, darling, are you upset about something? You can take it all out on me.” “But,” he added, his voice dropping, “I am your fiancé. You shouldn’t embarrass me in front of the staff.” “Oh, right,” I said, nodding as if I’d just realized. “In that case, our engagement is off.” “Wh… what?” He looked genuinely stunned, clutching his chest. “But… we’re childhood sweethearts! Our families arranged this… You can’t just… cancel it.” “Childhood sweethearts? Don’t flatter yourself,” I said coldly. I nodded to the guards. “This man is a trespasser. Teach him a lesson, then throw him out.” I stayed and watched. Only when Julian was curled on the ground, beaten and gasping for air, did I finally turn and walk away. Getting even felt good. That evening, I was summoned to Marcus’s penthouse. Lily, her face wrapped in bandages, was curled up in his arms, weeping. Julian, his suit now rumpled, was standing stiffly to the side. They had clearly been waiting for me. I ignored them both and smiled brightly at my brother. “Marcus, darling! Did you call me here to give me my allowance?” Marcus’s face was like ice. “Kneel.” “Why the hell should I?” The smile vanished. “You ordered your men to beat the heir to the Chenworth family. You viciously mutilated my savior, nearly disfiguring her for life. You tell me if you should kneel!” His voice boomed, trying to intimidate me. I just raised my voice louder than his. “I am Seraphina Vance! Who the hell are they? Their status doesn’t compare to mine. If I want to bully them, I bully them. Do I need a reason?” My blatant arrogance left him speechless for a moment. Then, his face contorted in rage. “You are an embarrassment! You have no class, no upbringing!” he roared. “You scarred Lily’s face and you had Julian beaten. For that, you’ll take thirty slaps to the face. Now! Do it!” Two of his personal bodyguards started to move toward me. From Marcus’s arms, Lily looked at me with pure, venomous triumph. “Sera,” Julian pleaded, “you made a mistake, and you need to face the consequences. Just accept the punishment.” I wasn’t about to let them touch me. I pulled a sharp, pearl-handled letter opener from my boot. “Anyone who comes near me,” I hissed, “gets this in their throat.” I turned my disgusted gaze back to Marcus. “Honestly, if you love Lily so much, why don’t you just marry her? You’re already acting like a married couple without the ring, hiding her in your penthouse. You’re the one with no shame here, brother.” Lily immediately burst from his arms, tears streaming. “Miss Vance! You can hate me, I can take it… but Marcus is your brother! How can you slander him like that?” Julian chimed in, pretending to defend me but twisting the knife. “Sera, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this… this behavior is really disappointing me…” “This is the Vance family home,” I snapped. “Who gave you permission to speak?” “Seraphina!” Marcus shot to his feet, his eyes boring into me. “Have you no decency at all!” 3 I saw the flash of pure disgust in his eyes and had to laugh. “As they say, ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.’ Isn’t my ‘upbringing’ your responsibility?” In my past life, he was always cold. I thought that was just his personality. I thought if I was just perfect, just proper, he would finally be proud of me. Then I saw how he doted on Lily, and I realized the truth. He wasn’t a “stern older brother.” He was just an asshole. The stalemate finally broke when my mother arrived. Lily immediately started in, “Mrs. Vance…” My mother silenced her with a single, icy glare. “It’s late,” she said to Julian and Lily. “You should both leave.” Once they were gone, it was just the three of us. My mother looked at me and Marcus with profound disappointment. “Your father’s 60th birthday gala is coming up. Do not make this family look bad.” Ah, yes. Her precious “image.” I was just like her in my past life. But this life, I didn’t give a damn about appearances. So I doubled down. I used my status as the Vance heiress to make Lily’s life a living hell. Throwing her in the estate’s lake at midnight became a regular occurrence. I had cockroaches put in her food. Finally, during a public class we both attended, I ripped the medical mask off her face. “Everyone, look!” I shouted. “It’s the freak!” Tears streamed down her scarred face, her eyes filled with a hatred that finally matched my own. She was no longer the calm, collected victim. She dropped to her knees. “Miss Vance! Please, I’m begging you, spare me!” “In your dreams!” I slapped her hard across the face, aggravating the healing wounds. I expected her to run to Marcus again, but for days, there was nothing. Then I found out why. They were waiting. I was lounging in my villa when Marcus showed up. “What are you getting Father for his birthday?” he asked. In my past life, I spent half a month hand-embroidering a massive tapestry: “Golden Prosperity.” I wanted to wish my father success. But Marcus took it from me. He said he was the heir, so his success was the family’s success. It was only right that he give it. Then he turned around and gave it to Lily. At the gala, Lily presented the tapestry as her own. My father was so impressed he gave her a manager-level position at Vance Consolidated. I, having had my gift stolen, presented a simple painting. It was the beginning of the end for me and my father. The memory of my own stupidity made me sick. “I don’t have a gift,” I told Marcus flatly. “I am the gift.” He was speechless, but he regrouped. He knew I was skilled at embroidery. “You know, I’ve been so stressed with the company, I can barely sleep. Maybe… maybe you could embroider a ‘Golden Prosperity’ tapestry for me?” “Sounds like a you problem.” His face darkened. “Fine. But you’ll regret this.” On the day of the gala, just as the sun was setting, I found out what he meant. As I was heading to the event, Julian blocked my car. My entire security detail had been mysteriously reassigned. My heart hammered. I tried to run, but he grabbed me. He gripped my wrist, his voice sickeningly gentle. “Don’t blame me, Sera. You’re the Vance heiress. You have everything. Lily has nothing. Just let her have this.” Then I heard a sickening SNAP! The pain was so intense I almost blacked out. My wrist was broken. As I gasped, he reached into my bag and pulled out the finished “Golden Prosperity” tapestry, which I’d been hiding. He handed it to Lily, who had just walked up. I had hidden it, only working on it in the dead of night. They still found out. Lily’s eyes were full of malice. “So what if you’re the heiress? Your fiancé doesn’t love you. Your brother doesn’t protect you. You can be arrogant now, but what happens when Marcus is in charge?” She leaned in close. “I’ll be Mrs. Vance. And you? You’ll be nothing but dirt under my shoe.” 4 I stared at the two of them, my vision blurring with pain and rage. “Bitch!” I swung my good left hand and slapped her across the face. SLAP! Her mask fell off. Her scars were already mostly healed. Marcus must have spent a fortune on her recovery. She clutched her cheek, laughing at my “powerless” rage. “You just stay here and cry. I wonder what Chairman Vance will think when his eldest daughter doesn’t even show up to his own birthday party?” She sauntered off, tapestry in hand, ready to claim her manager job and start her corporate takeover. I tried to follow, but Julian blocked me. He was protecting her. I remembered what he’d told me in my last life, when I complained about this very moment: “Lily is Marcus’s savior. You’re his sister. You should be grateful to her, too. If you expose this, you’ll humiliate Lily and your brother. And you know… I really don’t like girls who hold grudges.” This time, I just screamed the truth in his face. “You’ve known all along, haven’t you! This bitch didn’t just save Marcus, she saved you, too! You’re both in on it, working together to destroy me! Do you think Father won’t find out?” Lily’s little speech had given me an idea. Marcus… the heir… Even with her mask of innocence torn away, Julian still defended her. He knew exactly what she was. “Yes, she saved my life,” he admitted, trying to look sincere. “So please, just… let this go. Just this once. After this, I promise, I’ll marry you in the most lavish wedding anyone has ever seen.” He grabbed my broken wrist, his voice a gentle caress. “Go to the hospital and get this set. Otherwise, it’ll be permanent.” He stroked my throbbing hand. “And as for Mr. Vance… you wouldn’t want your own brother to take the fall for this, would you?” His words were poison, his touch was agony. This was a setup. My “good” brother had arranged all of it. I started to laugh, a wild, painful sound. “Am I supposed to be grateful? Am I in her debt? You two owe her, so I have to pay?” “And who the hell wants to marry you?” I spat. “I’m the Vance heiress. Do you think you’re my only option? I wouldn’t marry a piece of trash like you if you were the last man on earth!” Hatred cleared my mind. “You’re all disgusting! Go to hell!” With my good hand, I yanked the long, sharp hairpin from my purse and stabbed it directly into Julian’s eye. He let out a bloodcurdling howl, clutching his face as he staggered backward. He stared at me with his one good eye, which was wide with shock and a new, deep-seated hatred. “If you don’t get to a hospital, you’re going to be blind,” I said, my voice suddenly calm. Blood streamed between his fingers. “Seraphina,” he hissed, “you vicious, heartless bitch!” “Am I? And you, blocking me from my father’s party? What were the consequences for me?” I asked. “But you’re right, you should go. If you stay here, you’ll definitely lose that eye.” “Then we’ll go to the hospital together,” he snarled, trying to grab me. I raised the bloody hairpin again, aiming for his other eye. He flinched. “Like you said,” I taunted, “my hand is broken, but I’m still the Vance heiress. But you? A blind son-in-law? Who’s going to want you now? Especially one who’s on my bad side.” He hesitated. That’s all I needed. I bolted, running full-speed toward the gala. He was blind in one eye, and I had a broken hand. He stumbled and fell several times trying to catch me. I didn’t look back. The gala was being held at our corporate headquarters. It was a massive event. As I burst through the doors, I saw her. Lily was on stage, presenting the tapestry. My father was beaming, clearly loving the “hand-crafted” gift. “FATHER! THAT’S MY GIFT!” I shouted, stalking down the aisle. I shoved Lily so hard she fell off the stage. The entire hall went silent. I pointed a trembling, unbroken finger at my brother. “He did this! My own brother… stole from his sister for his mistress!” “That ‘Golden Prosperity’ tapestry,” I cried, “it took me half a month to embroider! The calluses on my fingers are proof! I can do it again, right here, right now! Can she? No! She’s a thief, and he’s her accomplice!” The silence was deafening. My father’s face was unreadable. “Seraphina,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. “What happened to you? Your clothes… your…” I held up my grotesquely swollen, broken wrist. “Ask him!” I shouted, pointing to Julian’s father, Mr. Chenworth, who was sitting at the head table. “It was his son! Julian! He blocked my path, tried to stop me from coming! And when I fought back, he broke my wrist to steal my gift for that… that whore!” My hand was trembling so violently, it was obvious I wasn’t faking. “What!” Mr. Chenworth shot to his feet, his face pale. “He… he broke…?” He staggered, grabbing the table. “That monster! That ungrateful monster! Mr. Vance… I am so, so sorry… Whatever the Vances want… any punishment… it’s yours to name!” My mother, sitting beside my father, looked furious. I had embarrassed the family. “A broken wrist can be fixed,” she said smoothly, trying to control the damage. “My daughter is… forgiving. Mr. Chenworth, there’s no need for such dramatics.” “Oh, no need to apologize,” I said brightly, cutting her off. “We’re even. I already blinded him in one eye.” Mr. Chenworth grabbed his chest and collapsed into his chair. “And,” I continued, “now that your son has permanently injured me, and I have permanently blinded him, we’re basically mortal enemies. This whole engagement is a joke. I’d like to end it. Tonight.”

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I had just been reunited with the biological parents who lost me twenty years ago. Before I could feel a single shred of their love, I was tricked into leaving the country by Maya, the “fake daughter” they’d raised. She didn’t just tell my parents I’d run away; she tore up my passport. She sold me to a human trafficking compound, her jealous, twisted face smiling as she said: “A piece of trash like you belongs in the gutter!” As a group of men closed in on me, I stared at the uniforms they were wearing and froze. That wasn’t just a random logo. It was the logo of Donovan Holdings—the company belonging to the adoptive parents who had raised me for twenty years. 1 “I swear to God, if you look at me with those filthy eyes again, I’ll dig them out and feed them to the dogs!” Maya Kensington’s plain face was terrifying when it contorted with rage. “Maya, you’re insane! If Mom and Dad find out you did this, they’ll kill you!” I was struggling against three massive guards, but I was like a baby bird in their grip. My helplessness only made Maya smile wider, so much so that she was trembling. “I’ll tell them you’re just loving life abroad. Having so much fun you’ve decided not to come home.” Maya and I were switched at birth. She’d lived as the Kensington heiress for twenty years before the truth came out. Then I showed up. On the surface, she was all smiles and sisterly kindness. In private, she was a venomous snake. It got worse when our biological parents, Richard and Eleanor, announced my engagement to Cole Hartman. She’d been obsessed with Cole for years. I told her, and them, a dozen times that I had no intention of marrying a stranger. Nobody believed me. They all thought I was just being “shy.” Lately, she’d been so nice. I actually thought she’d finally accepted the truth. So when she suggested a “sisters’ trip” abroad to bond, I agreed. And now, here I was, in a remote compound, my passport shredded. “Maya, if you let me go right now, I can pretend this never happened. But if you don’t—” SLAP! Her hand cracked across my face so hard my lip split. She dug her long nails into my cheeks, drawing blood. “You’re in my world now, Stella,” she hissed, using the name the Kensingtons had given me. “You dare threaten me?” “You planned this,” I spat. “Choosing a remote location, far from the city. It was to make the kidnapping easier.” “You’re not as stupid as you look,” she laughed. “You walked right into the trap. So, you’re going to stay here and earn me some money.” She got back in the car and left. The men threw a deck of cards at my feet. “You’ve got one week to learn how to be a dealer.” I saw the logo on the cards. “This is an illegal casino! I won’t do it! This is a crime!” The leader kicked me in the stomach. Pain exploded, and I collapsed, unable to breathe. He grabbed my hair and hauled me back up. “I wasn’t asking,” he growled. “You’ll do it. But since you’re not the cooperative type, let’s start with a lesson.” A wooden baton slammed into my back. “Ah!” Two hits, and I was already covered in a cold sweat. It was the middle of the night, dead silent. This was not a fight I could win. “How much?” I gasped, tasting blood. “How much money to let me go?” They all burst out laughing. “Money? Do we look like we need money?” The leader sneered. “We’re just following Miss Kensington’s orders. This is just bad luck for you, sweetheart.” They closed in, grinning. “And if you don’t want to deal cards, we’ve got… other jobs. Lots of work for a pretty face.” I was pinned. As I thrashed, I ripped open one of the men’s jackets. My eyes locked on the tattoo on his left shoulder. It was a stylized “D” over a globe. The logo for Donovan Holdings. My adoptive family. Mom, Dad, and my brother Ryan had raised me like a princess since they found me. They’d always sworn to me they were out of “the business.” They didn’t even have a branch in this country. “You’re… you’re Donovan Holdings?” The men glanced at each other. “Huh. She knows the name. Smart.” “I’m Cara!” I screamed, using my real name. “I’m Cara Donovan! The boss’s daughter! You have to let me go! My brother… Ryan… he’ll kill you!” They laughed again. “The boss’s daughter? Nice try. We’ve only got one ‘daughter,’ and that’s Miss Cara. You’re not her.” “I AM CARA!” I was about to tell them to check my ID, but Maya had burned it with my passport. “Call Ryan! Call Ryan Donovan! He’ll know my voice!” My desperation gave them a second’s pause. The leader, “Vince,” pulled out his phone… and called Maya. “Hey, what’s the name of the girl you dropped off?” “Stella Kensington,” Maya’s voice tin-canned from the phone. “Stella is the name my biological family gave me!” I shrieked. “My real name is Cara Donovan!” Ptooey! Vince spit in my face. “You fucking liar! I almost fell for it!” He was furious. He kicked me, again and again, right in the stomach. I threw up, and it was dark with blood. “Please… just call Ryan… he’ll save me…” “Save you? You’re not the ‘daughter,’ you’re the ‘entertainment’!” He dragged me by my hair into a filthy shack. The floor was mud and smelled of mold and human waste. He chained me to a post. The baton came down again, this time with a purpose. He was careful, though. He never hit my face. He was saving my face. For what? The phone rang. Vince answered, “Yes, boss.” He hung up. “Change of plans. She’s not going to the tables. She’s too… recognizable. Put her on the back line.” “Boss, a face like that? It’s a waste.” “Are you questioning me? Her face is the problem. If someone recognizes her, we’re all dead!” “Please!” I grabbed his pants leg. “Call Ryan. You’ll regret this. He’ll kill you all. He loves me.” “Then her face is useless,” Vince muttered, pulling out a knife. He brought the cold steel to my cheek. “Since she’s not dealing…” I bit him. I bit down on his hand, tasting the iron and copper of his skin, and screamed for help. The other men jumped on me. The door was kicked open. “What the hell is taking so long? Get this woman processed!” “Right away!” Vince wiped his bleeding hand on his pants and stepped on my throat. “You bitch! You bit me? I’m going to pull every single one of your goddamn teeth!” They pinned me down. It was hopeless. I was too weak. But I thrashed, kicking, fighting. “Jesus, she’s strong for a little thing!” “Hurry up! The Head is here! He can’t stand this kind of filth!” The Head? Jia-zhu? That’s what they called Ryan. I found a new surge of strength. I bit down on one man’s arm, ripping a piece of flesh free, and at the same time, I kneed another in the face, feeling his nose crunch. As they howled, I scrambled free and ran. There, in the clearing, was a black Bugatti. Ryan’s Bugatti. The one I’d given him for his birthday. The one I’d put stupid, giant eyelashes on the headlights of, as a joke. He’d kept them on. “RYAN!” I sobbed. “RYAN!” He looked over. I saw his head turn. A hand clamped around my throat and yanked me back, dragging me through the mud. “You fucking animal! I’ll teach you!” I broke free one last time, but they were ready. A baton slammed into the side of my head. The world went white, then black. I came to, choking. My mouth was full of sweat and grime. They’d shoved a filthy rag in my mouth. They were holding my hands down. One of them had a pair of pliers. He was aiming for my fingernails. I screamed into the gag, bucking and twisting, but I couldn’t move. He tore one out. The pain was absolute. He tore out another. I passed out. When I woke, I was alone. The pain in my hands was a dull, throbbing fire. My tongue was swollen, my head splitting. I looked at my raw, bloody fingers and a despair so total, so crushing, washed over me. But I wasn’t dead. Not yet. Through a crack in the door, I saw them. Ryan. He was with his security team, and they were leaving. I crawled. The chain around my neck pulled taut. “R-y-a-n!” It was a choked, pathetic noise. I bit my own lip, hard. I needed the pain. “RYAN! BROTHER! HELP ME!” He stopped. “Who was that?” Vince, the man who’d pulled my nails, ran up, bowing and scraping. “Just a new girl, Boss. Being… difficult. We’re handling it.” Ryan frowned. “Who?” “Ah… my wife, Boss. She’s… not happy I’m working for you. Thinks the money’s not as good. Always making a scene.” Ryan’s eyes fell on the bloody trail I’d left. “Boss, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t see this. She… uh… she fell. Broke her leg. Tried to run. We…” Ryan hated this. He hated this entire side of the business. He was here to clean it up. He was about to leave. This was my last chance. I put all my weight against the chain, yanked, and felt the rotten wood splinter. I threw the door open and fell out, grabbing onto his leg. He kicked me. Instinct. He hated being dirty. He kicked me so hard I flew backward. He looked at the blood on his thousand-dollar pants with disgust. But he was looking at me. Vince was faster. He pounced, one hand covering my mouth, the other twisting my hair. I bit him until his hand was a bloody mess, but he didn’t let go. “She’s crazy, Boss! Mental problems! I’ll take care of her!” “Just don’t kill anyone,” Ryan said, his voice cold. “Of course not, Boss. We’re a legitimate operation.” I thrashed, trying to show him my face. But he’d already looked away. “Get it done.” “Yes, Boss. Right away.” Vince dragged me back inside. He looked… impressed. “Twenty years, and you’re the first one who almost got away. You like to scream, huh?” He pulled his knife. “I’ll cut your tongue out. Let’s see you scream then!” “Hold her down!” Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t stop them. This only made them laugh. They had me. They held my head, pried open my jaws. The cold steel touched my tongue. Just then, Maya walked in. She looked absurd in her designer dress, but she held her nose like she owned the place. She walked over, looked down at me, and then hooked a finger in Vince’s belt loop. “What’s taking so long? Get her processed.” Vince grinned, kissing her, his hands disappearing under her dress as I watched. “What’s the rush?” he said, finally coming up for air. “She’s not important. But I heard the Head was here? Ryan Donovan?” Her eyes were greedy. “Heh. Got your sights set on the big boss, huh? You’ll have to get in line. Everyone knows the Head only has eyes for one girl. His sister. Miss Cara. Whatever she says, goes.” “Cara Donovan?” Maya frowned. “I thought no one had ever seen her.” Vince laughed, jabbing a thumb at me. “This psycho claimed she was Cara Donovan.” “Her?” Maya spit on me. “She’s not fit to kiss Cara’s boots!” She took out her phone and snapped a few pictures of me, half-naked and bloody. “This is perfect. Cole will love this. Should I send it to him now, or wait until after my men have had their turn with you?” I couldn’t speak, so I just stared. “Don’t look at me like that.” She was so angry, she grabbed the knife from Vince. “I’ll cut her tongue out myself.” The door flew open again. It was Ryan. He was holding a small, hand-carved silver charm on a broken chain. “Where did this come from?” I started making animal noises, choking, trying to get his attention. Vince’s men gagged me again. “No idea, Boss,” Vince lied. “Someone must have dropped it.” Ryan kicked him in the face, grinding his heel into his cheek. “I’ll ask again. Where?” “I… I don’t know!” Vince screamed as Ryan pulled a knife and drove it straight through his hand, pinning him to the table. “I SWEAR I DON’T KNOW! A car… a car passed by! It must have fallen!” Ryan stared at him for a full minute, then slowly turned his gaze to me. “Who. Is. She.” Vince, bleeding and terrified, stammered that I was just a girl who’d been “dropped off.” Ryan walked toward me. Each step was a hammer blow to my heart. He tilted my chin up with his boot. I gagged, trying to spit the rag out, trying to make him see me. Then he kicked me away. “Filthy.” He turned to leave. I lunged. I grabbed his leg, bit down on his knee, and as he roared and looked down, I spat the gag out. My jaw was locked, I couldn’t speak. So I held up my hand. I held up my right hand, my index finger pointing at his face. He froze.

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The new transfer student set her sights on my fiancé the moment she arrived. In the weeks leading up to Christmas break, she was everywhere—engineering “accidental” run-ins, asking for help with homework, trying way too hard. But only I know the truth about my fiancé, Silas. He’s dangerously possessive. And he has severe, crippling germaphobia. So, when she faked a stumble in front of him again, trying to look fragile and fall into his arms, Silas didn’t hesitate. He recoiled, letting her plunge straight into the swimming pool. As she resurfaced, sputtering and humiliated, his voice cut through the air, cold as ice. “If you’re done living, find a quiet place to die.” 1 My fiancé, Silas, is a possessive germaphobe. I’m the only person he can stand to have touch him. At his worst, he couldn’t even let his own parents get near. And as the only “leash” that could control this particular “wild dog,” I, the housekeeper’s daughter, started attending the same elite prep school as the young heir back in eighth grade. My first day, I was walking past a classroom in my new uniform skirt. Some idiot whistled at me. Silas grabbed a chair and threw it at him. Even at a prep school full of entitled rich kids, Silas was on another level. As he lunged forward, eyes red like a rabid dog, I just stood there. I called his name. Softly, just once. He froze. He turned, and the fury in his eyes melted into a look of pure, wounded grievance. The mad dog instantly became an obedient one. That day, the rumor that the “psycho campus king” had been tamed spread like wildfire. Soon, a new saying made the rounds: “Mess with Silas, and Hana might save you. Mess with Hana, and you’re dead.” It was a bit dramatic, but it was accurate. That rumor held true from middle school all the way through high school. Until our junior year, when some girl who clearly had a death wish decided to test it. 2 Our junior year, a new transfer student joined our class. Long hair, “pure” features. The moment she walked in, all eyes were on her. Not because she was stunning, but because she looked almost exactly like me. She even had the same brand of detached, cool aura. Silas stared at her for a long moment. As the girl, Bianca, walked past our desks, she brushed her hair back, shooting me a look that was pure challenge. A shame she didn’t see what I did. As Silas watched her, his brow furrowed by just a few pixels. After first period, I, as class president, was called to the office. The gist was: “Please take care of the new student.” I nodded, and when I got back to the classroom, Silas was waiting for me at the door, arms crossed. His face lit up when he saw me, and he started walking over. At that exact moment, Bianca, who was “passing by,” suddenly twisted her ankle on the perfectly flat floor, aiming herself precisely at Silas’s chest. Silas’s brow snapped down. He took one sharp step back. With a loud thud, Bianca hit the linoleum. Silas didn’t even give her a glance. He just walked straight to me, a small smile playing on his lips. 3 “What’s up? What did the teacher want?” From the floor, Bianca shot me a look of pure venom. Remembering the teacher’s request, I sighed and offered her my hand. The instant my fingers brushed hers, she yanked her hand back and flopped back onto the floor, hard. Her eyes filled with tears. “Hana,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I just got here. I don’t think I did anything to offend you… Why are you treating me like this?” She lowered her gaze, showing off her long, graceful neck. The tears glistening on her lashes were a nice touch. The other students milling about the hallway all turned to look. She thought she’d scored an easy moral victory. What she didn’t realize was that they were all just watching a train wreck. I’m known for being fair and kind at school. I don’t use my “mad dog” to bite people; in fact, I’m usually the one helping everyone else. It’s why they elected me president. Silas moved to my side, a protective, menacing aura rolling off him. The irritation was practically vibrating from his skin. The noisy hallway went silent. People slowly backed away, not wanting to be in the splash zone. But Bianca couldn’t read the room. She pointed at me, appealing to Silas. “Silas, look at her…” Before the psycho could fully emerge, I grabbed his hand. “Let’s go. It looks like some people don’t want any help.” In an instant, Silas’s world narrowed. The only things that existed were me and our joined hands. 4 We get a two-hour lunch break at our school, so most students go back to their dorms for a nap. I had to double back to the classroom to grab a textbook. As I passed the courtyard behind the cafeteria, I heard voices. The rich kids at this school can get into some pretty wild stuff. I’m not curious. I sped up, trying to ignore it. Then I heard my own name. “That bitch Hana is always in the way! Can’t you think of a way to get rid of her?” I glanced over. I saw Bianca, sitting on a stone bench, picking at a lunchbox. She wasn’t talking. Then I heard another voice, one that didn’t seem to have a source. “Then earn more conquest points. Once your points are high enough, you can have whatever you want.” It was a mature male voice, and it sounded close. But I scanned the entire courtyard and saw no one else. That, combined with the phrase “conquest points,” made a nasty little theory start to form in my mind. “You said this face was Silas’s favorite type!” Bianca complained. “Why doesn’t he seem to feel anything for me?” “How do you know he feels nothing?” the voice replied. “The conquest points went up by one.” I was… surprised. That psycho could actually be “conquered”? “So what now?” Bianca whined. “He’s not falling for the innocent, ‘green tea’ act.” “Then change tactics. Men like novelty. Hana is so aloof, she probably never gives him the time of day. You should try being more enthusiastic.” “Fine. I’ll do it your way.” … I slipped away without making a sound.

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My husband, Ethan, told me to give blood to his childhood best friend. She had a bleeding ulcer, he said. He completely ignored the fact that I was two months pregnant. [“Chloe is in surgery, Eva! It’s just some blood. Why are you making this so difficult? Stop being so selfish. Is being pregnant that big of a deal?”] My husband’s friends all chimed in, accusing me. He just stood there, silent. He let them ignore my protests, my struggles, as they physically pushed me toward the donation room. My heart finally died. A single tear escaped and slid down my temple. After the transfusion, I dragged my weak body to the OB/GYN wing. Ethan, a man like you doesn’t deserve to be my child’s father. 1. I stayed in the hospital for three days after the D&C. Ethan, meanwhile, never left Chloe’s side. My stomach was empty. But it was my heart that ached. When I was discharged, I ran into them. Chloe and Ethan, surrounded by their entire group of friends. I was alone, just holding my small overnight bag. Chloe was leaning on Ethan, as if she could barely walk. When Ethan’s eyes met mine, he froze for a second. [“You’re still here?”] [“It was nothing.”] I didn’t tell him about the miscarriage. I just turned my pale face toward the exit. [“We’ll go together.”] Ethan grabbed my arm. His tone left no room for argument. When we got to the car, Chloe immediately slid into the front passenger seat. She looked at me, her eyes watery and innocent. [“Eva, I get carsick so easily, especially after my surgery.”] [“You don’t mind, do you?”] I wasn’t in the mood to fight. I opened the back door. But Ethan’s friends, three large men, piled in, filling the entire back seat. They stared at me, their hostility obvious. [“Sorry, Eva,” one of them, Shawn, said. “Chloe’s still really weak. We’re all going to your place to help take care of her.”] I looked at Ethan in the driver’s seat. His jaw was tight, but he said nothing. I laughed, a dry, soundless thing. The summer cicadas outside seemed to be mocking me. How could I still expect anything from this man? Ethan’s friends had never liked me. In their eyes, he and Chloe were the ones who were meant to be. I was just the evil, gold-digging witch who’d split them up. Whenever they came over, they treated me like the hired help. Ethan never said a word in my defense. Even when I was pregnant with his child, I still had to give blood to Chloe. And I never even got a “thank you.” All they said was: [“You should be honored.”] This wasn’t the first time I’d been humiliated. It was just the first time I chose to accept it quietly. [“Okay. I’ll get home on my own.”] I shut the car door and walked away. It was rush hour. I couldn’t even get a rideshare. I had just had surgery. It was the peak of a brutal summer, and I had to walk for an hour under the blazing sun to get home. The moment I opened the door, I was hit with a wave of accusations. [“Eva, what took you so long? We’ve been here forever!”] [“We’re starving. Go make us something to eat.”] My gaze fell on Ethan and Chloe. It was sweltering, but the air conditioning was off. They were afraid the ‘frail’ Chloe would catch a chill. So Ethan sat next to her, fanning her with a magazine. His own forehead was beaded with sweat, but he ignored it, his eyes fixed on her. I stayed silent. Shawn nudged Ethan. [“Come on, man. We’re hungry. Tell your wife to get in the kitchen.”] Only then did Ethan look up. He completely missed my ghostly pale face. His voice was casual, entitled. [“Eva, be good. Go make us all a simple meal.”] [“And make some extra soup for Chloe. It’ll help her recover.”] The dull ache in my heart sharpened, twisting like a knife. I could barely breathe. I walked into the kitchen, closing the door on their happy chatter and laughter. I was the outsider. I was the one who didn’t belong. In the past, I would have screamed. I would have fought. I thought that would save my dignity. But all it ever did was make them double down. Compared to my “hysterical” rants, Chloe always looked so sweet and understanding. But now… I was done fighting. A man like this, a group of people like this… they weren’t worth it. By the time I brought the food out, I was drenched in sweat. Chloe offered to “help,” taking the heavy tureen of chicken soup from me. The second I let go, her hands “slipped.” The tureen crashed to the floor, shattering. Boiling soup splashed everywhere. [“Watch out!”] Ethan dove, shielding Chloe, who didn’t have a single drop on her. My bare legs, however, were instantly scalded, a blistering red. [“Eva! I know you don’t like me, but you can’t just throw things!”] Chloe burst into tears, burrowing into Ethan’s chest as if she was the one who’d been hurt. [“What the hell, Eva?”] [“We know you hate her, but this is too much!”] [“She didn’t even do anything!”] [“She’s my best friend, that’s it! Why are you so crazy?”] [“She let go first.”] My voice was dead calm as I stared at the people yelling at me. They started to argue again, but Ethan cut them off. [“Eva. Apologize.”] His voice was like steel. [“You’ve gone too far. She just got out of the hospital. You scared her.”] In the middle of a blazing hot summer, I was shaking, frozen. The burning, blistering pain on my shins was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. I looked at the man who I once thought was my protector, my safe place. He was my executioner. Something inside me snapped. [“Okay. I’m sorry.”] I smiled, a horrible, broken smile. The tears just started falling. Ethan flinched, as if he was surprised. He reached for me, but I pulled away. [“The food is ready. The apology is done. Can I please go bandage my legs now?”] I gestured to my skin, which was already blistering. Without waiting for an answer, I turned my back on the mess and walked to our room. I could hear Chloe’s ‘wounded’ voice from the living room. [“I’m so sorry… It’s all my fault Eva’s so angry…”] [“I’m just a burden. I’ll go…”] I heard the front door slam. She had run out. And, of course, the whole pack of them ran after her. I thought Ethan had gone, too. But then, my bedroom door opened. He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His large hand came to rest on my stomach. [“Eva, why can’t you just be patient with her? She’s like a kid. She needs us to look out for her.”] [“Besides,” he whispered, his voice suddenly tender, “we have our own baby now. As soon as I get this next project sorted, I’ll get you that wedding. Just stop being angry, okay?”] [“So you do remember I’m pregnant.”] I pushed his hand away. The sarcasm in my voice was sharp. His smile froze. Just then, his phone rang. He picked it up. Shawn’s voice was loud in the quiet room. [“Man, you gotta get over here! Chloe fainted on the street! We’re at the ER, and they need a card for admission.”] Ethan didn’t hesitate. He went straight to the nightstand and pulled out the bank card from the drawer. The card with all the money we’d been saving for the baby. [“Are you insane, Ethan?”] I blocked his path. [“You’re taking the money we saved for our child… for her?”] Ethan’s face darkened. He tried to push past me. [“That’s enough, Eva.”] [“This is life and death. And you’re only thinking about yourself. Why are you so selfish?”] I snapped. I started hitting his chest. [“I’m selfish? She’s your friend, not mine! You can’t take my money for her!”] Something in my words triggered him. He roared, shoving me with all his strength. I flew backward, falling hard onto the floor. Onto the pile of broken ceramic and spilled soup that no one had cleaned up. A searing pain shot through my back and arms. I looked at my hands. They were covered in blood. Ethan was already gone. He hadn’t even looked back. As I started to black out, I managed to dial 911. In the haze, I dreamed of a younger Ethan. We were at the lake overlook. He had his hands clasped together, his face serious. [“I swear I will love and protect Eva for my entire life.”] [“If I ever break this promise, I hope I die a miserable death.”]

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My mother has killed twenty-seven men. The reason she was able to kill so many is that my mother is “clinically insane.” Every time she kills someone, she doesn’t go to prison. She’s taken to the state hospital, locked up for a few days, and then released. Today, Christmas Eve, is the day she’s being released again, not long after the last one. And as soon as the news hit, all the men in town started lining up at our door, begging for her hand in marriage. 1 I was up early on Christmas Eve, stringing up some old lights. Our neighbor, Mr. Henderson, came over carrying a literal armload of gift bags. He smiled when he saw me. “Celia! Is today the day? Is your mom coming home?” I nodded. “That’s what they said. The hospital called. Said they wanted her to be home ‘for the holiday.’” Mr. Henderson’s smile widened. He set the gifts down on our porch. “These are for you and your mom. A little Christmas cheer.” He started wringing his hands, suddenly looking nervous. “Listen, Celia, I’ve… well, I’ve admired your mother for a long time. I’d very much like to make her my wife.” “When she gets home,” he said, “do you think you could… put in a good word for me?” I stopped what I was doing and stared at him. My mother is a psychiatric patient. She has killed twenty-seven men. Every single one of them was her legal, wedded husband. Except for my father, the other twenty-six all died within a week of marrying her. One of them snored too loudly. One of them chewed with his mouth open. One of them forgot to brush his teeth before bed. Any tiny, trivial thing could be the reason they ended up dead. Because of her diagnosis, she was never convicted. She’d just get sent back to the hospital. And, for some reason, she was always released after just a few days. I looked at Mr. Henderson’s kind, simple face. “Mr. Henderson,” I said gently, “my mom is… she’s not well. Her temper is bad. She could… you know. Aren’t you afraid?” His brow furrowed. “That’s a terrible way to talk about your mother, Celia! It’s not her fault! Those men didn’t know how to take care of her. They deserved it!” “My only wish,” he said, his voice full of passion, “is to marry your mom. I know I can take care of her. I can make her happy.” Before I could argue, he clapped his hands together. “So you’ll tell her? You’ll help me? Thanks, Celia!” He walked off, practically skipping. He was just the first. For the next hour, a steady stream of men from our small town came by. All of them brought expensive gifts. “Celia, you know I’ve always looked out for you. You gotta help me out here. Just tell her I’m the one.” “Celia, if I marry your mom, your college tuition is paid. Full ride. And I’ll give you a five-hundred-dollar-a-week allowance.” “Celia, here are my bank cards. My PINs. My retirement account. If your mom marries me, it’s all hers. Everything I make, from now on, goes to you two.” I stared at their faces, twisted with a kind of desperate… love? The gifts piled up, filling our living room. I was baffled. My mother isn’t a supermodel. She’s average. Her personality is, to put it mildly, volatile. She’s a literal serial killer. Even I was terrified of her. I just… I didn’t get it. What in the world did my mother have that made these men go so crazy? 2 An hour later, the state hospital car dropped my mom off. I pointed to the mountain of gifts. “Mom, these are from all the men in town. They… they all want to marry you.” My mother, Evelyn, didn’t even glance at them. She just grunted, “Oh.” As if this was the most normal thing in the world. Before we could even talk, Mrs. Gable, the town’s biggest busybody, was knocking at our door. She was beaming, holding a stack of envelopes. “Evelyn, honey! Welcome home! I’ve come to play matchmaker!” “My goodness, the men who want you… they’ve nearly beaten my door down!” She fanned out the envelopes like a deck of cards. “Take a look! Anyone here you fancy?” My mom looked at me. “Celia,” she said, her voice flat. “You look. Anyone you think is… ‘not bad’?” My blood ran cold. I knew what happened to the men she married. “Mom,” I said, my voice shaking. “I think… I think you’re better off single.” Mrs. Gable swatted my shoulder. “Don’t be silly, child! The most important thing for a woman is a good husband. You don’t want your mother to be lonely, do you?” I just stared at my mom, willing her to listen to me. She looked at me, then back at the envelopes. She reached out and, without even looking, plucked one from the pile. “This one’s fine,” she said. When I saw the name on the envelope, my heart stopped. How… how could it be him? 3 My dad was dead before I could remember. My whole life has been a revolving door of my mom getting married, killing, and going to the hospital. Whenever she was “away,” I was alone. When I was nine, I was washing clothes in the creek and fell in. The current pulled me under. I was drowning. And then, an older boy from town dove in and saved me. His name was Mark. He was a few years older than me. After that, whenever my mom was gone, he would bring me food from his house. He’d help me with my chores. He’d just… sit with me and talk. When kids at school made fun of me, calling my mom a “psycho,” he’d find them. He’d get in their faces. He defended me. He was my hero. He was the person I was secretly, hopelessly in love with, the person I could never, ever be with because of… well, my mom. And his name was on that envelope. And my mom had just picked him. Mrs. Gable was thrilled. “Evelyn, you’ve got good taste! You picked the handsomest, most successful young man in the whole county! He’ll take good care of you.” She hurried off to “spread the good news.” I didn’t wait. I ran out the door. I ran all the way to Mark’s house. He was standing on his porch, his handsome, steady face looking… anxious. He was waiting for the news. I stalked right up to him. “Mark. You’re young. You’re smart. You could have anyone. Why… why my mom?” He looked startled to see me. Then his expression hardened. “Why do you ask, Celia? You don’t think your mom is good enough?” “That’s not the point!” I was almost yelling. “She’s… she’s sick, Mark! She kills people! Are you insane? You’re signing your own death warrant!” His face went cold. “That’s not her fault. Those men were weak. They didn’t know how to treat her. They deserved what they got.” He looked me straight in the eye, his gaze firm. “If I’m lucky enough to marry her, I won’t make those mistakes. I will spend my life taking care of her.” His sincerity was terrifying. And in that moment, I understood. All those years… taking care of me, defending me… It was never about me. It was always about her. I felt a sharp, acid burn in my throat. “Well,” I said, “congratulations. She picked you.” 4 Mark’s face lit up with a joy so bright it was almost blinding. He kept asking, “Really? Are you sure?” until Mrs. Gable came huffing up the path to confirm it. Mark, who was always so calm and cool, looked like he’d just won the lottery. He was practically vibrating. “When can we have the wedding?” Mrs. Gable asked. “Today,” Mark said, without hesitation. “It’s Christmas Eve. It’s the perfect day.” He looked at me. “Celia, go tell your mom I’ll have everything ready. She just has to be the bride. I’ll handle everything.” He seemed to love my mom to the point of madness. I just stared at him, then turned and walked away. My mom didn’t object to a Christmas Eve wedding. She was as calm and indifferent as ever. The wedding was rushed, held that afternoon. The whole town came. It was our local custom. They all clapped Mark on the back. “You’re a lucky man, Mark! You got her!” Mark’s smile never left his face. After it was over, Mark came up to me. “Celia,” he said, “I’m your step-father now. I promise, I will take care of you both. You’ll never have to worry about anything again.” He was true to his word. He moved in that day. He cooked a huge Christmas dinner for the three of us. He never, ever took his eyes off my mom. Halfway through the meal, Mark started to get antsy. He looked at my mom, his eyes gleaming. “Evelyn… honey. It’s getting late. Why don’t we… turn in?” My mom nodded, put down her fork, and with a small, rare smile, she followed him to the bedroom. They didn’t even finish their food. My heart was pounding with a new, intense curiosity. This was their wedding night… but it was also Christmas Eve. My mom was a 27-time widow. What magic did she possess that made a man like Mark so antsy he couldn’t even finish his dinner? Why was every man in town obsessed with her? I couldn’t understand it. Driven by a curiosity that was stronger than my fear, I crept to my mother’s bedroom window and peered through a crack in the blinds. And I saw something I will never forget.

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My college roommates and I decided to go to Thailand for winter break. One of them, Mia, said her boyfriend, Leo, was a travel agent. He could hook us up with a “boutique” private tour. Easy and comfortable. We all thought it was a great idea. We were wrong. The second we got off the plane, a tour guide hustled us to a high-end luxury mall and told us to start shopping. He said if we didn’t buy anything, he’d tear up our passports. Forced consumerism? Not a chance. I refused. And for that, the guide sold me to a boiler room. 1 I was dragged into a dark, windowless room. The guide pointed a fat finger in my face. “You don’t want to spend money? Fine. You can stay here and make money. You hit your quota, you go home. You don’t? You’ll work here until you die.” A few huge guys were standing around, cracking their knuckles. I noticed a logo on their shirts—a stylized mountain and sea. It looked so familiar… Wait. This was the insignia of the Aegis Group. Marcus Thorne’s company. Marcus. The guy who had been completely obsessed with me, the guy I’d finally managed to dump. And I was right back in his territory. This was a wolf’s den. This was a scam tour. That “boutique” package was a one-way ticket. “My friends,” I demanded, “where are my roommates?” “Don’t you worry about them. You just worry about yourself.” “My roommate’s boyfriend, Leo! He works for you! He’s in on this, isn’t he?” “Yeah, he is,” the guide sneered. “Told us you were the ‘rich one.’ I haven’t even gotten to him yet. What good is a rich friend who won’t spend a dime?” He tossed a stack of papers at my feet. “You don’t want to shop, you can learn to sell. Or rather, scam.” A guy threw two binders at me. “Scripts and call lists. You follow the script, you make the calls. You make money, you get to eat.” “This is a boiler room,” I spat. “It’s fraud. I won’t do it.” The man slapped me, so hard my ears rang. “You don’t have a choice. You do it, or we make you do it.” Another one kicked me in the stomach. I crumpled, gasping. “Okay, okay!” I scrambled back, clutching my side. “How much? How much do you want? I’ll pay you. Just let me go.” “Let you go? So you can run to the cops? No one walks out of here without paying, one way or another.” As I clutched my stomach, my eyes fixed on that logo again. The Aegis Group. Marcus’s family business, with fingers in every pie, legal and… not. The last I heard, he’d gone legitimate, but clearly, he’d lied. “You’re Aegis Group,” I said. The man smirked. “Smart girl. You recognize the brand.” “Your boss,” I bluffed, “Marcus Thorne. He’s my fiancé. If he finds out what you’re doing, you’re all dead.” They burst out laughing. “Our boss’s fiancée? You? Don’t make me laugh. We all know the boss is engaged to Ms. Arianna. Who the hell are you?” “I am Arianna!” One of them had my bag. He pulled out my passport. “It says right here… ‘Ava.’ Ava Reed. You’re a liar.” “That’s my new name!” I protested. “Arianna is my old name! If you don’t believe me, call him! Call Marcus!” “You really want to see the boss?” The main guy grabbed my hair, yanking me to my feet. “In this place, ‘disobedient’ only gets you one thing.” He dragged me to another, smaller room. He picked up an iron chain from the floor. “Let’s see how tough you are.” He whipped the chain across my back. I screamed. “I’m warning you!” I shrieked, tears and snot mixing with the blood from my split lip. “You will die for this! I want Marcus!” He hit me again. “Shut up! Shut up about the boss!” He beat me until I was a whimpering, broken mess on the concrete. I couldn’t move. He crouched, grabbing my chin. “She’s pretty, though. Wasting her on the phones. Let’s send her to the VIP lounge. She can work the poker tables.” “No,” I whispered. “I’ll do the calls. I’ll work. Please…” The VIP lounge. That sounded a thousand times worse. “It’s not your choice anymore.” He snapped his fingers. “Get her cleaned up.” They hauled me to my feet. As they dragged me out, I heard a familiar, terrified whimper from another room. “Leo, please… I don’t… I don’t know…” “Mia!” I screamed. “Is that you, Mia?” “You brought my friends here? You sold her out, too? Even when her boyfriend is one of you?” If Mia was here, we were all doomed. She was my only hope of getting the police. They ignored me, just kept dragging. Suddenly, a voice shouted from the main floor. “He’s here! The boss is on his way up! Clean this place up, now!” The men holding me panicked. “We can’t take her out there. He’ll see her. Take her back to the cell. We’ll deal with her after he’s gone.” The boss. Marcus. This was my only chance. I bit down, hard, on the arm of the man holding me. He yelled, and as he let go, I kicked the other one as hard as I could between the legs. I scrambled and ran. I saw it. A long, black Lincoln, pulling up to the building. It was him. “Marcus!” My scream was cut off. A hand clamped over my mouth from behind, dragging me back into the shadows. “You bitch! You can still run? Guess we didn’t hit you hard enough!” I jammed my fingernails into his hand. He grunted, and I bit his arm. “You’re dead!” he roared. He grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from a nearby desk and brought it down on my head. My world exploded, then went dark. … When I came to, I was blind. My eyes were caked shut with dried blood. I was back in the small, dark room. It was quiet. They must have all gone to meet Marcus. I crawled to the door, pounding on it with what little strength I had. “Help! Marcus! Help me!” I heard his voice. That voice I hadn’t heard in three years. “What’s that noise?” “Just… just one of the company ‘dogs,’ sir. Got a bit rowdy. We locked it up so it wouldn’t bother you.” The door flew open. A boot connected with my chest. “I told you to shut up!” The guard grabbed my jaw, pried my mouth open, and poured scorching hot water down my throat. My vocal cords, my entire esophagus, felt like they were on fire. I couldn’t scream. I could only make a horrible, gurgling sound. Tears streamed down, carving clean paths through the grime and blood. I curled into a ball, shaking. The man saw I was “tamed” and turned to leave. I saw my chance. I grabbed the iron chain from the floor. I lunged, wrapping it around his neck and pulling. He choked, falling backward. I scrambled over him and ran out the door. I tried to scream, but only a wet, rasping noise came out. He couldn’t hear me. I saw a vase on a table. I grabbed it and hurled it to the floor. It shattered. Marcus, surrounded by men in black suits, stopped. He turned. The man I’d choked was already up, staggering out of the room. “The bitch is out! Grab her!” Before I could take another step, a burlap sack was thrown over my head. I was so close. “You’re dead, you hear me? Dead!” Fists and feet rained down on me. I felt the metallic taste of blood fill my mouth, soaking the inside of the sack. “Who are you hitting?” The voice was cold. It was Marcus. “Boss! This… this is a spy. From a rival. We caught her stealing data.” “Just… don’t kill her.” I’m not a spy! I’m Ari! I tried to speak, but I just choked on blood. “She’s a mute, too? Disgusting. Get her out of my sight.” I was being dragged away again. One of the men stepped on my hand, grinding his heel into my knuckles. “If I didn’t need these hands for the poker tables, I’d break every bone in them.” As I was losing consciousness, I heard a woman’s voice. A voice I knew. “You did this to her? She looks half-dead.” I froze. It couldn’t be. “She was disobedient, ma’am. Wouldn’t do the calls, wouldn’t go to the lounge. Kept screaming she was the boss’s fiancée.” A foot kicked me in the ribs. “You? His fiancée? In your dreams.” “Is she… dead?” “No. Still breathing.” “Good. Don’t kill her. It’s better this way. Let the little princess work here until she rots.” Footsteps. “Everyone, back to the conference room! The boss has questions!” They all left. I was blind, mute, but I could hear. I heard Marcus’s voice, cold and sharp. “This passport. Where did it come from?” My heart leaped. He’d found it. “I… I found it on the floor, boss. By the door. Just… picked it up.” “You ‘found’ it? Are you sure? Lying to me… has consequences.” “I… yes, I found it.” “I want to see the person who belongs to this. Do you know where she is?” “No, boss! She… she probably just dropped it. A tourist, maybe.” A long, tense silence. “The woman you were beating in the hall,” Marcus said. “The ‘spy.’ Where is she?” “She’s… in the storage closet, boss.” Footsteps. Coming closer. “Boss, she’s… she’s filth. Not worth your time…”

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The day I died, my killer fell apart. To be precise, my indirect killer, who, in reality, was the one who directly signed my death warrant. My mother always hated me. She said I was trash, nothing but a tramp who lived to seduce men. She first said that when I was in elementary school. This Christmas, she left me at home with three of our neighbors—three men—while she went to the mall with my aunt and cousin. I cried. I told her I was scared and begged her to take me with her. She just laughed at me, her voice full of contempt. “They’re adults, Lily. Your father’s friends. What are they gonna do, hurt you? Besides, with a body like yours, who’d even want you?” After she left, I was raped. Then murdered. My body was cut up and flushed down the toilet. When they realized I was missing, my relatives wanted to call the police. My mother stopped them. She insisted I’d obviously just run off to “mess around” with some boy. And then, finally, they learned the truth… Mom was holding a bright red dress up to my cousin, Chloe, her face glowing with a tenderness I had never seen directed at me. She beamed, “This color is just perfect for my Chloe.” My cousin tried to refuse, but Mom insisted, “It’s the holidays! You have to wear something festive.” My aunt, Carol, looked uncomfortable. “Sarah,” she said, “since we’re here, we should get something for Lily, too.” I really did need new clothes. The winter coat I was wearing—well, the one my body was wearing—was from two years ago, when I was 15. Dad bought it for me. I’d grown so fast I couldn’t even zip it up anymore. But Mom’s face soured. “Buy her something? Why?” “So she can look even more like a tramp to lure in men? Besides, Lily’s always been cheap trash. She doesn’t deserve nice clothes.” Chloe and Aunt Carol looked embarrassed, even though they were used to hearing her talk like this. All our relatives knew Mom didn’t like me. She’d been spoiled her whole life. First by my grandparents, then by my dad, who treated her like a princess. Chloe told me that when Mom was pregnant with me, she was actually excited. She kept saying she hoped I’d be a boy, so I could protect her alongside Dad. Too bad. I was a girl. I was born premature, weak, and sickly. Grandpa, Grandma, and Dad started giving me some of the attention they used to give her. Mom decided I’d stolen their love. From then on, she hated me. The less she cared, the guiltier they felt, and the more they doted on me. Which just made her hate me more. It was fine when they were around. But when they were gone, she was a monster. She once stared at me, her eyes full of pure venom, and whispered, “I regret not killing you in the womb.” I still shiver when I remember that look. I snapped out of the memory. Mom was already dragging Aunt Carol out of the store, as if she was afraid my aunt would actually buy me something. I suddenly felt so sad. But Mom… even if you wanted to buy me clothes now, I can’t wear them anymore. I followed them as they kept shopping. Dad, who was away on a business trip, called. He warned her, “Lily’s a young woman now, Sarah. Don’t leave her home alone when you and Carol go out.” Mom pouted, instantly annoyed that he cared about me. “Lily, Lily, that’s all you care about! What about me? I’m your wife~” I heard Dad’s good-natured laugh on the phone. “Of course I care about you. I care about you the most.” After they cooed at each other for a few seconds, Dad repeated, “Seriously, Sarah. Keep Lily with you. Men who’ve been drinking are dangerous.” She mumbled “uh-huh” and hung up. She kicked at a pile of dirty snow on the curb. “They really mean it when they say a daughter is her father’s lover from a past life,” she muttered. “Little tramp.” I just watched, feeling that weird, familiar sting behind my eyes. Dad knew what Mom was like. He texted my cousin, Chloe. Mom heard the ping and looked at Chloe, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “My, my. Aren’t we popular? Who’s texting our little Chloe during the holidays?” Chloe didn’t dare say it was Dad. She made up a quick lie. But she took Dad’s warning seriously. A minute later, she said, “Aunt Sarah, maybe we should head back? It’s freezing out here. And it’s no fun for Lily to be all alone.” Mom hated when anyone showed me an ounce of sympathy. “She’s not alone, is she? She’s got Mr. Henderson and his sons with her.” Aunt Carol chimed in, “Sarah, they’re all men, and they’ve been drinking. Lily’s a grown girl now. It’s not safe.” Mom just scoffed. “Not safe? They’re adults! They’re our neighbors! And besides, look at Lily. All skin and bones. What man would even want her?” I listened, and my heart physically ached. How strange. My heart had been carved out of my chest, so how could it still hurt? Two hours ago, Mom had said the exact same thing to me. Today was December 27th. Our neighbor, Mr. Henderson, had come over with his two adult sons, Mark and Ben. My aunt and cousin were there too, so it was a full house. Everyone was drinking. The women were fine, but the men got wasted. After lunch, Mom suggested she, Aunt Carol, and Chloe go shopping, leaving me behind. I saw the way the men were looking at me. Their eyes were… slimy. I started to tremble. They weren’t the nice, friendly neighbors I knew. They looked like animals. I grabbed Mom’s sleeve, pleading. “Mom, I want to go with you. I don’t want to stay here… I’m scared!” She yanked her arm away and sneered. “Lily, they’re practically your uncles! And stop being dramatic. You think they’d be interested in you?” Before I could say another word, she pushed me into my bedroom, locked the door from the outside, and left the key and my phone on the coffee table. She didn’t know. The second she was gone, they unlocked the door. They came in. They… they did it. It was brutal. I tried to scream, to fight, to call for help, but they clamped their hands over my mouth and nose so hard I couldn’t breathe. By the time they were finished, I was dead. Mom, if you had just listened to Dad… if you had even just called me, you would have known. While you were at the mall, saying those things… Mr. Henderson and his sons were frantically cutting my body into pieces and flushing me down the toilet. Mom… the bathroom floor was so cold. It hurt so much. Mom took Chloe and Aunt Carol to get their nails done. I watched from the side, a little envious. I’d only been with her to a nail salon once. The little gems and sparkles were so pretty, glinting under the lights like crystals from a fairy tale. I was leaning on the counter, just staring at them, and Mom saw me. She slapped me. Right there in the salon. “What are you looking at? Want to get your nails done so you can be a better hooker?” I was stunned, just holding my cheek. Everyone stared. Mom didn’t even look at me again. But now, she was telling Chloe, “Chloe, your fingers are so long and white. Any color would look beautiful on you.” I lowered my head. Chloe texted me. No reply. She was starting to look really worried. While Mom was getting a top coat, she snuck outside to call me. Of course, I couldn’t answer. She looked even more panicked, pacing back and forth. I wanted to comfort her, but when I reached out, my hand passed right through her. I went silent. My eyes burned. Just then, another mother and daughter walked in. The daughter was helping her mom pick out charms. “Mom, this big one! It’s so pretty!” The mom tapped her on the nose. “My baby has the best taste!” They were so happy together. I stared, my eyes cold with envy. When I finally looked away, I saw Mom was watching them, too. Aunt Carol noticed. “What’s wrong, Sarah? Jealous?” My heart jumped. Yeah, Mom. Are you jealous? Do you wish we were like that? But she just clicked her tongue and looked away. “I am. That little girl is so sweet. Not like Lily.” Her voice was full of disgust. “Carol, you don’t know the half of it. Lily is so manipulative. She only acts pitiful around my parents and my husband, making it look like I’m the bad guy! She’s always sucking up to them, trying to steal everything that’s mine!” Aunt Carol just sighed. She knew Mom’s mind was set. But for some reason, Mom seemed agitated. She pushed the expensive charms away. “Forget it. Just give me a plain color.” A minute later, she stood up. “This is boring. Let’s just go home. God knows what kind of trouble that brat is stirring up.” My chest felt tight. Mom… did seeing them make you think of me? The daughter you left at home? But it was too late, Mom. The blood and hair I left in the bathroom… it was all cleaned up by then. When they got home, they went straight to my room. It was spotless. As if nothing had happened. If I hadn’t lived it, even I would have thought it was all a bad dream. Chloe was even more worried. She looked at Mr. Henderson and his sons, who were pretending to watch TV. They saw her looking and quickly looked away. Chloe knew something was wrong. She tugged on Aunt Carol’s sleeve. Aunt Carol caught on and asked them, “Where’s Lily?” “Oh,” Mark stammered, forcing a laugh. “I think she went out. Saw her take a call and leave.” Ben chimed in, “Yeah, yeah, you know kids her age. Probably wanted to hang out with her friends.” But Chloe knew I wouldn’t just leave, and my phone shouldn’t be off. She and Aunt Carol looked at each other. “We need to call the police.” The men flinched. But Mom stopped them. She was furious. “Call the police? For what?” Her voice was cold, certain. “You don’t know Lily. I do. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows my parents are coming tomorrow! She wants to use this to tell them I… I abused her!” Aunt Carol and Chloe were speechless. “Sarah, what are you saying…” Mom just snorted, her eyes flashing. “I’ll show her. I’ll show her who they care about more! That little bitch! Nobody go looking for her! When she comes crawling back, I’m going to break her legs!” Chloe was frantic. “Aunt Sarah! Lily’s not like that!” Mom just sneered. “You’ve all been fooled by her act! I saw her just the other day at the mall with some boy. She’s been dating behind our backs. She’s definitely out messing around with her boyfriend right now!” This finally convinced them to wait. The next day, I still wasn’t back. Mom got up early, made pancakes for Chloe, and braided her hair. I watched her hands weave through Chloe’s dark hair, so gentle, as if she was afraid of pulling a single strand. The winter sun streamed in, landing on them. It was a perfect, peaceful picture. Like they were the real mother and daughter. I felt a pang. Mom… if Chloe were your daughter, would you treat her like me? Is it me you hate, or just… the girl who is your daughter?

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My first day at a new high school, and the king already had it in for me. Because I wore the same band t-shirt as Chloe, the queen bee, I was a “pathetic try-hard.” Zach, the school’s star quarterback, deliberately “tripped” and poured a carton of milk over my head. He gave me a slimy, insincere apology while yanking my hair. When he saw my face, he stopped, and his eyes narrowed. He sneered. “Whoa, colored contacts on day one? Desperate much? Who are you trying to hook?” I just looked at him calmly. “It’s not a contact. It’s a prosthetic.” 1 “What?” Zach looked like I’d just started speaking another language. He frowned, his expression a weird, subtle mix of confusion and disbelief. “What did you say? If it’s not a contact, then what is it?” I sighed. This was the part of transferring I always dreaded. I calmly pushed his hand away. I slicked my milk-soaked hair back from my face, grabbed a napkin, and wiped the sticky mess off my forehead. My face was probably pale as a sheet. I met his eyes steadily. “Watch.” Zach just frowned, totally confused. The next second, in front of the whole class, I expertly pulled up my upper eyelid and popped the prosthetic out. I held the golden-flecked piece of acrylic out to a suddenly pale Zach and repeated myself. “It’s not a contact. It’s my prosthetic eye.” “Am I clear enough now?” The noisy classroom had gone dead silent. Zach stared at the empty, hollow socket in my face for a long time, taking two involuntary steps back. “How…?” he looked dazed. He instinctively reached out, as if to touch my face, but I slapped his hand away. I quickly re-inserted the prosthetic, blinking hard to get it seated right. I knew I must look like a total mess. It didn’t matter. I’d been through worse. This was nothing. After a few blinks, I looked up and met Zach’s complicated, horrified expression. “I thought you…” he stammered, his lips trembling, looking like he wanted to say more. But just then, the bell rang. I didn’t wait. I just walked around the frozen-stiff Zach and went to my desk. My hair was dripping. I silently dabbed at it with more tissues. It was useless. Still disgustingly sticky. I ran out of tissues. Screw it. I ignored the damp patches on my clothes and pulled out my textbook, ready for class. Zach just stood by my desk, not moving. He stared at me as I tried to clean myself up, the empty milk carton still clutched in his hand. When I stopped dabbing at my hair, his gaze lingered on the damp strands. Finally, he knocked on the desk of the girl in front of me—Chloe. “Give me some tissues,” he said, his voice hoarse. Chloe glared at him. “Zach, what the hell are you doing? The teacher’s about to walk in. Go sit down!” “I said, give me some tissues!” he suddenly yelled. “Are you deaf?” 2 The quiet classroom amplified his voice. Everyone stared. Chloe, startled by his yelling, bit her lip. Her eyes went red as she angrily dug half a pack of tissues from her desk and threw it at him. “You’re insane! Why are you yelling at me?” Zach ignored her, took the tissues, and held them out to me. I didn’t take them. His hand just hung there, frozen. “They’re for you. Just… use them,” he said, his face tight with irritation. I finally, slowly, looked up and met his eyes. As soon as Zach saw my golden eye, he flinched like he’d been poked and quickly looked away. “What are you staring at? Just take them,” he snapped. I realized, belatedly, that ever since I took my eye out, his entire attitude had flipped. Looking at this awkward, flustered version of Zach, an inappropriate thought popped into my head. “Is this you apologizing?” I asked calmly. He froze. Even his fingertips twitched, betraying his panic. “If taking your tissues means I have to forgive you, then no thanks.” I kept my voice even, looking at his scowl. “I have no intention of accepting your apology. So please, take your stuff and get away from me. Thanks.” He looked pissed. Seeing I wouldn’t budge, he gave up and just shoved the tissues into my desk. I immediately pulled them out and dropped them on the floor. He silently picked them up, trying to hand them to me again. Just then, the teacher walked in. Chloe, who had been watching us, finally snapped. She stood up and yanked Zach’s arm, pulling him toward the back of the class. “She doesn’t want it, idiot! Why are you still kissing her ass?” She dragged him, knocking my desk hard as she passed. I didn’t look at either of them. Didn’t give them an ounce of my attention. Halfway through class, I heard a loud SMACK from the back row. It was sharp. He’d really hit himself. Several kids turned to look. Even Chloe in front of me kept glancing back at him, and every time she did, she’d shoot me a look of pure hatred. Like I was the one who’d done something wrong. Whatever. I ignored them both. I just pretended they didn’t exist. 3 The bell finally rang. The sticky feeling was unbearable. I stood up to go to the washroom, but my foot caught on something, and I pitched forward. I threw my hands out, but my arm still scraped hard across the floor. “Hss,” I sucked in a breath. The skin on my wrist was torn, and blood was already starting to well up, staining my sleeve. It looked worse than it was. I was pushing myself up when someone shoved through the crowd of onlookers, scooped an arm under my legs and another around my back, and lifted me off the ground. I had no warning. I panicked and grabbed his shoulders. “Are you okay?” Zach’s voice was right by my ear. He saw my bleeding arm and his brow tightened. “Don’t move. I’m taking you to the nurse!” “I hurt my arm, not my leg,” I said evenly. “Put me down. I can walk.” He just ignored me, tightening his grip. “I can carry you,” he glanced at me. “Stop being stubborn.” I almost laughed. I was about to say something else, but right then, Zach’s foot twisted, and he lost his balance. A wave of vertigo hit me. Bad memories flashed in my mind, and my whole body went rigid. “Zach!” I screamed. He reacted instantly, trying to twist and shield my head. But it was useless. We fell hard. And since he was holding me, I was trapped underneath him, taking his full weight. My head hit something hard on the floor. THUNK. My skull rang like a bell. Right before I blacked out, I heard Zach yelling frantically at the crowd. “Chloe, quick, come here! I think your cousin just passed out!” My heart skipped. Cousin. So, he knew. No wonder he hated me so much. 4 I woke up at a bad time. “…you promised me! You promised you’d give her hell!” That was Chloe’s shrill voice. “So why are you backing out now?” I didn’t open my eyes. I could hear Zach’s fingers drumming rhythmically on a tabletop. “I said I’d teach her a lesson,” he sighed, his voice rising in irritation. “But you didn’t tell me she was disabled! You want me to bully a disabled person, Chloe? What do you think I am? An animal?” Chloe’s angry question got stuck, turning into a wounded wail. “She’s just a one-eyed bitch!” Chloe’s voice was sharp. “If she ruined your life, stole everything from you, I bet you wouldn’t be playing Mr. Nice Guy!” Zach went quiet. He was thinking. The drumming stopped. Chloe moved closer. I could hear her breathing. “Zach, you promised,” she said, her voice low and vicious. “Last spring, I took the fall for you. You owe me. I don’t want anything else. I just want you to… wreck her.” I heard her lean in close to his ear. “Ruin her.” “I don’t care how you do it.” Long silence in the nurse’s office. I could hear the wind rustling the blinds. I could hear Zach’s tiny, almost unnoticeable sigh. And then: “Fine. I’ll do it.” Chloe’s mood flipped instantly. She stopped caring about his attitude and happily offered to buy him lunch. Zach didn’t refuse. They left, one after the other. The second the door clicked shut, I opened my eyes. My head throbbed, but it wasn’t too bad. I calmly turned off the voice recorder app on my phone and sat up. I knew Chloe didn’t like me. From the day I moved into her house, she’d been hostile, hiding it behind a fake smile. But I never knew she hated me this much. Hated me enough to have Zach “ruin” me. I remembered Zach slapping himself in class, regretting bullying me. And then his “Fine. I’ll do it.” It was almost funny. Honestly, I was almost… curious. I wanted to see exactly how Zach planned to “ruin” me.

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I woke up back in my eighteen-year-old body. The year Leo Marchetti was still alive. I saw him across the quad, still that punk swimmer with messy hair, and my eyes flooded with tears. “Maya,” a cold voice snapped beside me. “Do you really have to make a scene at your own birthday party? It’s pathetic.” I turned. Evan Wyatt. My childhood “best friend.” Oh, right. I remember now. This was my 18th birthday party, the one where I planned to publicly confess my love to Evan. “Why are you always crying?” he sighed, annoyed. “You should try reading a book instead of thinking about romance all day…” As our classmates snickered, he continued to lecture me. God, he’s so annoying. Like a fly buzzing in my ear. I shoved him out of the way and ran, launching myself into Leo’s arms. “Husband…” I sobbed, unable to breathe. This time, I’m going to save everything. 01 Before Leo died, he made me pinky swear. He made me promise to live to be a hundred before I came to find him. I promised. And then I lied. Three days later, I went after him. Before I closed my eyes, I came up with an excuse. When I saw him, I’d just say I had a dream he was hitting on other ghosts. The truth is, I didn’t have a dream. I couldn’t sleep without him at all. When I opened my eyes again, I was eighteen. I was holding a gift, surrounded by the buzz of my party. “Speech! Speech! Make a wish!” The backyard was packed, but my eyes found him instantly. That messy hair, that impossible-to-miss swimmer’s build. He was in a corner nobody was paying attention to, his gaze drifting over me, trying to look casual but failing. The sight of him shattered me. My tears just… broke. I tried to speak, but Evan’s voice cut in. “Maya, do you really have to make a scene at your own birthday party? It’s pathetic.” The fog in my head cleared. I finally saw the person standing in front of me. He was frowning, his expression cold. The party’s happy vibe stalled. Serena Lin was the one to break the awkward silence. “Evan, we need to go over our valedictorian speech.” Evan turned to her. “One second. Let me deal with this, and I’ll meet you.” His tone, for her, was uncharacteristically gentle. Serena was a genius, just like Evan. People always joked they were the “perfect couple.” Serena just scoffed, “I’m not one of those silly girls who only thinks about boys.” Back then, the look Evan gave her was full of admiration. He’d told me before he couldn’t stand girls who only thought about romance. And back then, romance was all I thought about. Him was all I thought about. I’d even planned this whole party to confess to him, thinking he wouldn’t embarrass me on my birthday. I learned later that he hated what he called my “emotional blackmail.” Just like now. He took the gift from my hands and tossed it on a table, annoyed. “You should try reading a book instead of thinking about romance all day.” 02 I just stared. Whispers started in the crowd. “Look, Maya’s crying.” “She’s chased Evan for years. She just went from prom queen to total joke.” “Oof, cringe.” In my last life, I did run off sobbing from the humiliation. But right now, my eyes were locked on that guy in the corner. I stared straight at him, my mouth open. I was trembling, unable to make a sound, the tears just kept streaming down my face. Seeing this, Evan frowned and sighed. “Maya, why are you always crying?” He was so annoying. He kept talking, and he was blocking my view. I shoved him, hard, and ran, throwing myself at the man I thought I’d lost forever. “Husband…” “Husband, you’re alive, you’re really alive, oh god…” His chest was warm, and he smelled like sunshine and chlorine. I clung to him, sobbing my heart out. The body in my arms went rigid. “Whoa… dude, I think you got the wrong guy?” His face went red, all the way to the tips of his ears. 03 “Maya, who are you calling husband?” Evan’s voice was behind me, sharp with anger. “How many times are you going to pull this stunt?” He was right. In my past life, I’d flirted with other guys all the time, just to make him jealous. He’d get mad, and then he’d half-heartedly “reassure” me. But this time, the guy I’d grabbed was the school “jock” he despised. I just clung to Leo, crying harder. “Oh god, husband, you’re really alive…” I couldn’t believe it. My hands snaked under his t-shirt, frantic, checking his chest for the scar from the wound that had killed him. Leo completely freaked out. “Holy shit! What are you doing?!” I sobbed, “Take off your shirt, let me see.” His face turned crimson. “I’m a respectable guy!” That just made me cry harder. “Please, husband, I need to see, please just let me see…” His hands hovered in the air, not knowing where to land. Finally, he gave in, hissing under his breath. “Fine… just… can we wait ’til no one’s around?” Watching this, Evan’s face twisted in disgust. “Maya, aren’t you ashamed of yourself, in public?” “This time, I’m not playing your game.” He turned, and he left. The crowd, sensing the drama was over, awkwardly dispersed. 04 “Okay, princess. Show’s over. You gonna let go now?” His voice from above me was laced with sarcasm. I just shook my head, my arms locked around his neck, my sobs quieting. “Nope. Never letting go again…” The eighteen-year-old Maya hadn’t broken her leg. She wasn’t depressed. The eighteen-year-old Leo hadn’t taken a knife for her yet. There was still time. He let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, I’m leaving.” “Okay…” He just… walked out of the backyard, with me still clinging to him like a koala. We’d just gotten inside when we ran into Mr. Wyatt, Evan’s dad and my legal guardian. “Leo? Aren’t you supposed to be at practice? What are you doing, harassing Maya?” I just buried my face in his neck and held on tighter. Seeing I wasn’t moving, Leo, his face beet-red, stammered an excuse. “Sir, she… she twisted her ankle. I’m just getting her some ice.” Mr. Wyatt’s expression softened. “Well. Good on you, son. Very chivalrous.” I suddenly remembered. This is what Leo was always like. In my last life, he’s the one who carried me to doctors all over the world, who sat with me through every agonizing physical therapy session. Once Mr. Wyatt was gone, Leo looked down at me, totally losing it. “Seriously, Maya. What is your deal?” I just kept my arms locked. “Husband…” He looked like his head was about to explode. He gritted his teeth. “Stop calling me that! Who’s your husband?” “You are…” I pouted, “my favorite, favorite husband…” He looked defeated. He muttered, “Didn’t you throw my letter in the trash yesterday?” Oh. Right. Awkward. My timing sucked. Leo had confessed to me. And I’d thrown his letter on the ground and stepped on it. “I can’t stand jocks like you. All muscle, no brains.” Which was ironic, coming from a dancer who wasn’t exactly a genius herself. The truth was, I never hated Leo. Evan did. So I did, too. Evan hated anyone who wasn’t “intellectual,” especially Leo, who had bad grades and a loud mouth. I blinked, putting on my most sincere face. “That… that was a test. To see if you’d give up.” And I promised, “Husband, from now on, I’m only going to like you.” His jaw twitched. “Ugh. Can you just not with the ‘husband’ thing?” I shook my head. “Nope.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Fine. Whatever. Call me whatever the hell you want…” He looked at me, still wrapped around him, and sighed. “But Maya… you’re a person, not a monkey. Can you please get off me?” “But I want to hug you more, husband~” His Adam’s apple bobbed. His ears were bright red. Eighteen-year-old Leo was so adorably flustered. 05 He ended up carrying me to his grandpa’s place. The old man ran a weird little occult shop in a back alley. “Gramps, I think she’s possessed.” Old Man Marchetti stroked his beard and squinted at me. “Yep. Eyes are all red. Definitely something latched on.” He pulled out a tarot card and handed it to Leo. “Here. A talisman. Wards off evil spirits.” Leo set me down on a stool outside. “Wait here. Don’t follow me. I’ll be right back.” I didn’t listen. I snuck up to the beaded curtain. I heard him whisper, “Hey Gramps… do you have anything that… you know… makes the possession permanent?” I grinned. You little faker. You were already crazy about me. Oh, Leo. This life, it’s my turn to run to you.

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