For eight years, I helped build my boyfriend’s dream from nothing. On our anniversary, we were still in the same attic apartment. He gave me the only egg from his soup. “Eat, Lena. You need strength.” I held my cancer diagnosis and said I wanted to break up. “I can’t wait anymore, Ethan.” He smiled, ruffling my hair. “Don’t be silly.” “I have cancer.” The pain was so sharp I barely remember his response before he rushed off to work—our life already felt like a long-distance relationship. After my follow-up, I went to his glass tower. The receptionist stopped me. “You need an appointment to see the CEO.” I stood frozen. I used to sneak upstairs as a delivery girl. Since when did I need an appointment to see him? 01 Ethan and I were broke. The kind of broke where you count loose change for laundry. How could he possibly be a CEO? I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t. But then, through the frosted glass of a conference room, I saw him. He was dressed in a tailored suit that probably cost more than our rent for a year. Beside him, a young woman in a bright yellow dress was playfully tugging on his arm. “I don’t care!” she pouted, her voice a sweet, cloying melody. “You promised you’d take me to the movies. If you’re backing out now, you have to make it up to me!” Ethan’s smile was a mixture of exasperation and pure indulgence. “Alright, alright. That bag you were looking at… how much was it? Four hundred thousand?” The girl practically bounced with joy, throwing her arms around his neck and planting a kiss near his ear. Ethan pulled a credit card from his wallet, tapping her affectionately on the head as he chuckled. “You little troublemaker.” I watched, feeling like I was trapped in a nightmare. Four hundred thousand dollars. That was enough to buy us a year’s worth of instant noodles with an egg in our attic. All these years, our finances were so tight, I never dared to bring up money, terrified of adding to his pressure. The only time we’d talked about it was the night I got the diagnosis. I held the report in my trembling hands and tried to sound casual. “The cheapest bottle of pills is four thousand three hundred dollars. Can you believe it? It’s robbery! But the guy selling knock-offs downstairs from the hospital only charges eighteen hundred. I could save more than half!” I forced a laugh. “What do you think? I could deliver food during the day and drive for Uber at night. Maybe I’d even make it long enough for you to marry me, hahaha.” We were face to face, but the silence that followed was deafening. I couldn’t even hear him breathe. My fingernails dug into my palms, the paper of the report growing damp with sweat. Damn it. I had wanted to say it with a smile, but a sob was already caught in my throat. Just before a tear could fall, his phone rang. I quickly wiped my eyes and pushed him towards the door, telling him to take the call. Just forget it, I thought. I was a dying woman. The last thing I should do is drag him down with me. Today, I’d worked up the courage to see him, thinking that if I could just say goodbye in person, it would be enough. But now, watching him drop a fortune to appease this girl, it felt like a red-hot poker was twisting in my gut. The pain was so intense it made me gag. Four hundred thousand dollars. It was enough for so many bottles of medicine. Enough time to spend so many more years with him. The glass reflected my own pale face. My lips were colorless, chapped like dry earth. Inside, the girl was vibrant and fresh, her eyes sparkling like jewels. People are drawn to beautiful things. So, in that moment of silence after I told him about the pills, was he thinking about how I was about to die? Or was he thinking about how he was going to spoil this pretty little thing later? I didn’t know. And I realized I didn’t want to know anymore. Suddenly, the conference room door slid open, and the girl walked out, her eyes bright with laughter. She saw me and paused, her gaze filled with curiosity, but her smile never wavered. “Hi,” she said sweetly. “I’m Mia, Mr. Hardy’s executive assistant. Is there something I can help you with?” My eyes were glued to the red string bracelet on her wrist. It was identical to the one Ethan wore. 02 Three months ago, my stomach pains started getting worse. One night, the agony was unbearable. As I fumbled in the dark for some pills, my hand brushed against two red string bracelets on the nightstand. A small wooden charm was tied to each one, carved with intricate symbols. I remembered a coworker telling me about these. You had to make a grueling hike up a mountain to some remote shrine to get them. They were meant to protect your health and bring you peace. One was five hundred dollars. Two of them meant a thousand. That was enough to cover our ramen budget for three months. I was a mix of furious and touched. Furious that he’d spent money we didn’t have, but as my fingers traced the wooden charm, a warmth spread through my chest, and even the pain in my stomach seemed to fade. Giddily, I slipped one onto my wrist, planning to playfully scold him in the morning. “No more wasting money,” I’d say with a smile. But when I woke up, he was standing over the bed, his face a thunderous mask. “That bracelet isn’t for you. Give it back,” he said, his voice cold as ice. “Lena, don’t be so greedy. You can’t have everything.” So, it was for her all along. For the girl standing in front of me now. I forced the bitterness down and managed a weak smile. “Your boss… Mr. Hardy… he seems to take good care of his employees, doesn’t he?” Mia nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes! Even though he comes from a very wealthy family, he’s not arrogant at all. He’s been so kind to me.” Her voice was soft and sweet, her eyes gentle as she pulled out her phone and began swiping through her photo gallery, showing me picture after picture. There they were at a Michelin-star restaurant. At Disneyland. At all the places I could never afford, their faces alight with joy. “He gives me a huge cash bonus every Christmas, and when he found out I’d studied abroad, he started giving me gifts for other holidays too. He got me this bracelet,” she said, holding up her wrist. “I was catching colds all the time.” “Once, another company tried to poach me. Can you believe it? He actually showed me the company’s financials and even his personal bank statements to convince me to stay!” Mia covered her mouth, giggling. “I told him, ‘You only show your bank account to your girlfriend! Why are you showing me?’ He just stared at me for the longest time and said, ‘I just want you to know…’” She trailed off, a blush creeping up her cheeks. She looked up at me. “You know him well, right? Has he ever been this devoted to another girl? What do you think he means by all this?” The pain in my stomach suddenly sharpened, like a knife twisting inside me. I pressed a hand to my abdomen, struggling to swallow the metallic taste rising in my throat. I didn’t know about Ethan’s bank account. I didn’t know about his wealthy family. In his heart, I wasn’t even his girlfriend. What right did I have to be jealous? I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. I realized that seeing Ethan, saying goodbye, it didn’t matter anymore. I straightened my back, forcing myself to stand tall. My voice came out as a whisper. “Please tell your boss to find some time to return that watch to me.” “And tell him… we’re done.” The words had barely left my lips when a familiar, furious voice cut through the air from behind me. “What do you mean, we’re done? Lena, are you playing games with me?” 03 I turned to see Ethan standing a few feet away, his brow furrowed in a deep scowl, his eyes filled with impatience. I didn’t understand. I was the one who had been deceived. How had he twisted it to make it seem like I was the one playing him? I ignored him. With Mia standing right there, I didn’t want to cause a scene. But Mia’s face had gone pale. She grabbed my arm. “Ma’am, what… what is your relationship with Mr. Hardy?” “The front desk said you didn’t have an appointment. I assumed you were a business partner, but now…” I froze, unsure how to answer. She didn’t know that the receptionist had blocked me, that Ethan hadn’t answered my calls. The only way I’d gotten this far was by showing them a three-year-old screenshot of a text from him: “Lena, as soon as I make it, I’ll marry you. I promise.” I had treasured that screenshot like a precious jewel for three years. But the look the receptionist gave me was the kind you give a pathetic fool. And she was right. Who clings to an empty promise for that long? It was the only proof I had. He and Mia had countless photos together—at Disneyland, in fancy restaurants—each one a portrait of intimacy and happiness. We didn’t have a single decent picture together. Seeing our silence, Mia’s eyes welled up with tears. She turned and began pounding her small fists against Ethan’s chest, her voice choked with emotion. “Ethan, you have a girlfriend? Then why were you so good to me? I just need a straight answer! What am I to you?” She was so brave, so sincere. Even asking such a foolish question, she seemed utterly endearing. Ethan stood there, taking her blows, a look of profound pain on his face. Watching the drama unfold, I was suddenly reminded of my old self. I used to want to ask him, “When are we getting married?” But every time, the words would die on my lips, afraid of pressuring him. They would turn into, “Should we have fried rice for dinner?” After a long, heavy silence, Ethan finally turned his gaze to me. It was a look I knew all too well—a silent plea. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I would spare him the trouble of speaking the words himself. “I’m not his girlfriend.” So this is what it looked like when Ethan Hardy loved someone. Money, time, status—whatever Mia wanted, he gave it to her instantly. No hesitation, no empty promises of “someday.” Not like me. I waited eight years, and all I got was, “Don’t be so greedy.” Even when I was sick, I could only joke about not having long to live, and then I was left helpless by his silence. The pain in my stomach flared again, and tears began to stream down my face. It was obvious now. They had a silent understanding between them. Of course. You can’t hide love. You can’t stop yourself from wanting to give them the world, from wanting to possess them, from feeling like every second apart is an agony. He had never given any of that to me. I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to laugh. To laugh at my mother, who had been right for eight years when she told me to leave him. And to laugh at my own stupidity. I used to be so naive, thinking he was just a workaholic. Now I knew. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to love. It was just that I wasn’t the one he loved. 04 Choking back a sob, I held my hand out to him. “Let’s just end it here. I don’t even want to know why you lied to me.” “Just give me back my watch. And let’s not see each other again.” A crowd of onlookers had gathered by the door. Someone scoffed loudly. “I’ve never seen someone ask for a gift back. So tacky.” “She’s probably just some gold digger trying to cause a scene!” Ethan’s jaw tightened. He’d heard them too. “Don’t you all have work to do?” he roared at the doorway. The crowd scattered. He then turned to Mia, his voice softening as he stroked her hair. “Go on, I’ll explain everything in a minute.” Now it was just the two of us, in a silence so profound I could hear my own heart pounding—a frantic, chaotic rhythm in my chest. I never wanted this. To be so humiliated, so utterly pathetic. But that watch… it was the only thing I had left of my father. It was the gift my mother had given him when they first fell in love. On his deathbed, he had pressed it into my hand. “Lena, honey, you take good care of this watch. Don’t let anything happen to it.” I had to get it back. I was afraid he’d be angry with me when I saw him again on the other side. I held my hand out, insistent. “Give it to me.” A humorless laugh escaped Ethan’s lips. His eyes bored into mine. “You’re really something, Lena. You’ve been after my money this whole time, haven’t you? First you pretend you didn’t know I had it, now you’re trying to break up with me. Playing hard to get? Let’s see how long you can keep up this act!” My nails dug into my palm. I stared into his eyes and asked, each word deliberate and sharp, “Ethan, what are you talking about? You were the one pretending to be a broke failure. When have I ever asked you for a single dime?” He shot me a cold, dismissive look and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. He didn’t light it, just rolled it between his fingers, agitated. His voice was laced with contempt, each word a shard of ice piercing my heart. “Three years ago. You asked me for an apartment in Midtown. That’s when you started plotting all this, wasn’t it?” I was stunned. It took me a moment to remember. Three years ago, we had just moved to the city. The summer was humid, and moisture seeped into the walls of our tiny rental, leaving dark patches of mold. He’d patiently painted over them, then turned to kiss me in the tiny space where we could barely pass each other. “Just a little longer,” he’d whispered. “After I finish this project, we’ll move to a bigger place. Somewhere with more light.” I had dodged his kiss and laughed, teasing him. “No way. I want to live in Midtown! I want a penthouse with a skyline view!” The paintbrush had slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. He straightened up and just stared at me for the longest time. And I, like an idiot, thought he was seriously contemplating our future together. I see now. Back then, he was already planning how to punish me. I let out a long, shuddering breath as tears streamed down my face. So that’s all our eight years together meant to him. A gold-digging scheme from my end, and a weapon for him to use against me.

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The year James cheated on me, I paid a fortune for the compromising photos and leaked them online. I shattered his reputation. To get back at me, he engineered a way to make me walk away with nothing, and then he delivered his final threat. “As long as I’m in Seacrest City,” he’d said, his voice cold as steel, “don’t even think about coming back.” I was forced out of the country. For five long years, no one in Seacrest remembered that James Vance had an ex-wife named Josephine. All they knew was that the love of his life was a woman named Tessa. But now, staring at the embossed invitation from Seacrest, a slow smile spread across my face. I turned to the man beside me. “How about,” I said, my voice a low murmur, “I go in your place?” 1 After all, there are some debts that have to be collected in person. Only then can you truly call it the end. Invitation in hand, I was about to enter the venue when a black Maybach screeched to a halt in front of me, blocking my path. A woman stepped out. “What’s this?” she purred, her eyes raking over me. “Are they letting in any stray now?” She laughed, a sharp, unpleasant sound. “Five years. I almost thought you had enough pride to die out there. But I guess,” she examined her fiery red nails, “you couldn’t make it after all. Crawling back to beg for scraps?” “Josephine.” Tessa flung her expensive leather handbag at me. “Why don’t you beg me? Just a little. If you beg, I might see if anyone here would even look at you,” her gaze traveled up my body, landing on my face with a sneer. “You pathetic—” The word never left her lips. I snatched the bag and slammed it into her face. Then I grabbed a fistful of her hair and smashed her head against the car door. The sickening thud echoed in the quiet street, and a thrill, hot and undeniable, shot through me. My blood was boiling with a vicious excitement. “Tessa,” I whispered, leaning close to her ear, “five years ago, you called me Mrs. Vance. You knelt at my feet and begged me to take you in.” A humorless laugh escaped my lips. “Did five years make you forget who’s the master and who’s the dog?” “Or did climbing into James’s bed and becoming the laughingstock of the entire internet make you forget what shame feels like?” “In that case,” I patted her cheek, the slap echoing softly, “why don’t I teach you a lesson?” I yanked her hair back, ready to slam her head against the door again. “You’re insane!” Tessa shrieked. A bodyguard lunged forward, grabbing my wrist in a crushing grip. “Who do you think you are!” he bellowed. His fingers dug into my skin, pressing down on the jagged scar that circled my wrist. A sharp pain shot up my arm, and I winced, but my smile only widened. “Five years, and he’s managed to train some loyal mutts!” I twisted, throwing a punch that connected squarely with the bodyguard’s jaw. As he staggered back, I drove my foot into his groin. He crumpled in pain, and I wrenched the steel baton from his grasp, turning my attention back to Tessa. “Tessa.” I hefted the baton, my smile cold and sharp. “I forgot to tell you.” I raised the baton high. “Now that I’m back, I have no intention of letting you go.” I swung the baton down, the air whistling. I heard Tessa’s terrified scream. “Josephine!” “James won’t let you get away with this!” “James will kill you!” “James!” The baton was ripped from my hand. Before I could even turn, Tessa’s voice rose to a hysterical, broken wail. “James, save me! James!” “It’s been five years!” “Five years, and she still wants to kill me!” “Save me!” The force of the pull sent me stumbling backward into a hard chest. A familiar scent, one that sent a chill down my spine, enveloped me. A voice, calm and measured, spoke from above my head. “Josephine.” “Five years,” James’s fingers clamped around my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “And you’re still so reckless.” “It seems,” his eyes, cold and dark, met mine. I stared at the face I hadn’t seen in half a decade, the same perfectly handsome face that graced magazine covers, and I felt a wave of nausea. “That you still haven’t learned what you should and should not do.” “Hmm?” 2 Trailing behind James was a crowd of his business partners, all of them hovering a few feet away, too intimidated to approach. They watched as James held my chin in his unforgiving grip, his words dropping like stones in the silence. “Apologize to Tessa. Beg for her forgiveness.” A ghost of a smile played on his lips. It was the same smile he’d worn five years ago when he’d thrown a one-way plane ticket in my face. “Do that,” he said softly, “and I’ll overlook your sudden return.” My blood ran cold. He tossed the baton to the ground, where it landed with a sharp clang. Just like five years ago. I had walked in on him with Tessa, my world shattering around me. I had cried and screamed, demanding an explanation. He had simply held Tessa in his arms and warned me. “Tessa isn’t like you. She’s delicate. Don’t scare her.” “Josephine, we’ve been together for too long. So long that I can’t find any passion with you anymore. As long as you behave, the title of Mrs. Vance is yours. But if you dare to hurt Tessa, I will end you.” Back then, I didn’t understand. I was so sure he loved me. I was certain that the years we’d spent building our lives from nothing meant something. I hired a private investigator, and when I got the photos, I plastered them all over the internet. No matter how much money he threw at it to bury the story, I paid more to make sure he and Tessa paid the price. Just as I’d planned, Tessa was expelled from her university, a social pariah. But my victory came at a devastating cost. I still remember the day James forced me to sign the divorce papers, giving up everything. His voice was like ice. “Your brother’s life,” he said, “is in your hands.” “Josephine. What’s it going to be?” Now, looking at him, I felt that same chill. “James.” “Five years,” I met his mocking gaze with a smile more vicious than his own. “Is this how you greet an old flame?” “If that’s the case, then I have a gift for you, too.” In one swift motion, I plunged a small, hidden blade into his abdomen. I watched the shock bloom on his face, my hand never ceasing its motion, twisting the blade, feeling the slick warmth of his blood on my skin. My laugh grew louder. “James.” “Do you like it?” “If you do,” I started to pull the knife out for another strike, but he grabbed the blade with his bare hand. The edge sliced through his palm, but he seemed not to feel it, his grip like a vise as his eyes locked with mine. “Josephine, after five years, you’ve really—” “Outdone yourself.” He kicked me hard in the chest, wrenching the knife from my grasp. He stood over me, looking down. “You want me dead that badly, don’t you?” “Josephine,” James stepped closer, his foot pressing down hard on my wrist. The old scar screamed in protest, and I bit back a cry of pain as he leaned down. “Too bad. This city is mine.” “If you want to take my life,” he dropped the bloody knife in front of me, “you’re not qualified.” Tessa scrambled over, her face a mask of horror as she saw the blood pouring from James’s wound. She burst into gut-wrenching sobs, turning on me with a shriek. “Josephine!” “Five years ago, you leaked those photos and ruined my future! You tried to destroy me and James! He had a heart and let you go, only sending you away! How could you be so vicious, so evil, that you’d come back and try to kill him!” Tessa threw herself in front of James, shielding him like a mother hen, her carefully constructed image shattering as she screamed at me. “If I had known that being soft on you back then would lead to you hurting James today,” she sobbed, “I would have—” “I would have killed you myself!” 3 The little beggar who once cried and pleaded for me to take her in. The country girl James wouldn’t even deign to look at. Now she was a high-society woman, screaming at me as if she had the right. I looked at Tessa, then at James, whose expression softened with pity for her, and I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it. I began to applaud them. “You know,” I said, my smile wide and mocking, “you two really are perfect for each other.” “What’s that saying again?” I pretended to think. Then, as if struck by a revelation. “A bitch and a dog,” I said, my eyes locking with James’s darkening face, “together forever. Hahahaha.” “Isn’t that right, James?” “Hahahaha.” “You’re asking for it!” James shoved Tessa aside and lunged at me, but his rage gave me the opening I needed. I snatched the knife from the ground and charged forward. As the blade sank into Tessa’s side, I saw the composure on James’s face crack. The man who was always in control let out a raw, desperate roar. “Tessa!” “TESSA!” Tessa’s face was ashen. She collapsed into James’s arms, her eyes still soft as she reached up to touch his face, her gaze filled with adoration. “James,” she whispered. “I protected you, too.” “James…” Her eyes fluttered shut. As she lost consciousness, James lost his mind. He scooped her into his arms, screaming, “Doctor! Somebody get a doctor!” Before he raced toward the hospital entrance, he turned, and his eyes met mine. They were filled with a murderous rage. “Josephine!” “There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for five years,” his eyes were blood-red. “Before you signed the divorce papers, when I told you your brother was still showing signs of life…” “I was lying.” He turned away, tossing the final, devastating words over his shoulder. “He was already dead long before you signed anything.” “Your signature was just to get you to disappear from Seacrest for good.” A bolt of lightning split the sky. The thunder cracked, and in my mind, I heard my brother’s weak voice calling my name. I saw the truck hurtling towards me, saw Aiden use all his strength to push me out of the way. He crumpled under the wheels, his eyes gentle as he reached for me. “Jo…” “It hurts,” I had crawled to him, holding him, my world collapsing. He had squeezed my hand. “But protecting my sister…” “It was worth it.” After that day, I lost the only family I had left in the world. Aiden was in a coma, separated from me by a heavy hospital room door. James had dragged me out, throwing me to the floor and pointing at my unconscious brother. “Josephine, why do you think your brother was there?” “He saw the photos. He was coming to find you.” “Did you ever think, Josephine, that in your quest to hurt me, the person you’d really destroy wouldn’t be me, but your only brother?” “Sign the papers, Josephine.” He had thrown them at my feet. All the strength had drained from my body. I stared at the agreement, and I heard James’s voice, a lifeline in the darkness. “Sign it, and I’ll make sure your brother doesn’t die.” “Agree to leave Seacrest forever, and I promise to take care of him.” But later, as soon as my plane took off, I received a video from Tessa. In it, my brother was being buried in a crude, unmarked grave. Tessa’s voice was a triumphant sneer. 4 “This is what you get for crossing me, Josephine.” “That car crash was no accident,” her words were thorns, wrapping around my heart, squeezing until I couldn’t breathe. “It was just a little lesson from James. He never expected your brother would be stupid enough to die for you.” “So whose fault is that?” “It’s yours, you bitch.” I had scrambled to get off the plane, desperate to go back, but the cabin was filled with James’s men, their eyes watching my every move. I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t go home. I spent five years abroad. Five long years. I felt those thorns grow into a monstrous tree inside me, its branches constricting my lungs with every breath. And to think, even his promise was a lie. I screamed, trying to lunge at James, but his bodyguards pinned me to the wet pavement. I could only watch as he carried Tessa away. I screamed until my throat was raw. “James!” “I will make you pay!” “James! I will kill you! I swear I will kill you!” The crowd of onlookers jeered. “She’s insane! Everyone knows Mr. Vance runs this city!” “I heard about what happened back then. To get justice for Miss Wen, he had her brother’s bones ground to dust and scattered. Miss Wen even livestreamed it.” My mind went numb. Someone else whispered, “Damn, ground to dust? That’s brutal.” “What do you expect? Mr. Vance said that whoever makes Miss Wen unhappy, he’ll make them a hundred times unhappier. Even his own wife.” “But didn’t he build his empire with his ex-wife’s money?” The voices faded. The rain fell in sheets, a deluge that matched the storm in my soul. The words ground to dust and livestream echoed in my head. I could see the video playing on a loop, Tessa smiling sweetly into the camera five years ago. “I didn’t want Mr. Vance to go to such lengths for me, but he said that whoever makes me unhappy, he’ll make them a hundred times unhappier.” The box containing my brother’s remains was opened. “No,” I choked out, a raw, hoarse sound. No one heard me. I watched, helpless, as James scooped up a handful of ash and let it drift into the wind. It was as if I could still feel my brother’s warmth in the air, a painful comfort in the cold, wet night. “No.” I screamed it over and over, begging them, pleading with them not to do this to my brother. A ringing phone pulled me back to the present. I was on the line with someone, sobbing hysterically. “I want revenge! I’ll make James pay! I want Tessa dead! I want them both dead!” Tessa’s injury wasn’t serious. It was a shallow wound, and she was playing it up for James’s sympathy. Seeing him fuss over her, ignoring his own injury, she smiled. “James,” she said softly. “After this is all over, let’s get married, okay?” Even after five years, even after all the lavish gifts and public affection, he had never given her the title of Mrs. Vance. She took his hand. “I don’t want us to miss any more time.” “James,” her voice was thick with emotion, “I just want the right to officially stand by your side.” She looked so fragile, so devoted, that James’s expression softened. But before he could answer, the hospital room door was kicked open. I stood there, covered in blood and mud, a knife still clutched in my hand. I met James’s shocked, then resigned, gaze as he muttered. “You really don’t know when to—” Quit. The word died on his lips. I was already on him, driving the knife straight into his heart. I grabbed his hair, my voice a venomous hiss. “James! Today is the day you die!”

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The stray cat I’d been feeding brought me a half-dead white snake. I nearly fainted from shock, but then, a series of pop-up comments appeared before my eyes: [OMG, the snake-man protagonist was supposed to meet the kind-hearted main female lead, but a stray cat just snatched him up as a gift for its human. I can’t.] [This cat is a menace! Bad kitty! Poor snake!] [The ultimate prize just fell into the lap of a side character. Our snake-man hero is loaded; whoever saves him gets showered with gold later!] My eyes lit up. Gold? I immediately scooped up the snake and rushed inside. A snake that was basically a living, breathing money tree? Finders keepers! 1 After cleaning and bandaging the white snake’s wounds as best I could, I placed him in a large glass terrarium. Staring at the nearly seven-foot-long serpent, a wave of fear washed over me. This was a pet snake? Someone had a very skewed definition of “pet.” I thought they were supposed to be, like, the thickness of a few fingers. I rummaged through my apartment and found a few pieces of frozen meat in the fridge, tossing them into the tank. The snake flicked its tongue, glanced at the frozen offering, and coiled up in the opposite corner with an air of pure disdain. “Yeah, I know it’s not much,” I sighed, “but I can’t afford fancy steak right now. And since you’re my pet—” Before I could finish, the snake’s head shot up. [LMAO, the shock in his golden snake eyes! Did I hear that right? Who did you just call a pet?!] [Protagonist: I was brought here against my will! Against! My! Will! Do you understand?!] [Ugh, where’s that feline culprit?] The culprit, a fat orange tabby, was pointedly ignoring the drama, noisily crunching on his kibble. Crunch, crunch, munch, munch. He seemed to be enjoying it immensely. [Protagonist: I will never stoop to eating cheap garbage like that fat furball!] [I would rather starve!] [What is the point of this pathetic existence!] This snake was a picky little thing. Not a great habit to have. I ignored him and went back to the kitchen to make a bowl of instant ramen, dropping in an egg and a couple of lettuce leaves. A gourmet meal, perfectly balanced! I had just finished slurping the last noodle when the doorbell rang. I shuffled over and opened it a crack to find several of my neighbors, armed with brooms and knives, looking ready for war. “Tanya! Where’s the snake?” “Don’t hide it from us! Someone saw the orange cat drag a snake into your apartment. We were worried about you living all alone, so we came to help.” Their eyes immediately locked onto the long, pale creature in the terrarium. “That’s the one! Don’t be scared, Tanya, we’ll kill it for you!” As they raised their makeshift weapons, the white snake shot up in alarm, slammed the lid off the tank, and slithered across the floor with a dry, rustling sound, heading straight for my bedroom. Not my bedroom! Mr. Henderson and the others charged in after it. “Where’d it go?” Mr. Henderson rubbed his eyes. I pretended not to see the white coil clinging to the ceiling fan. “It must have gotten away,” I said quickly. “It doesn’t bite, and you know how much I love animals. I was actually thinking of getting a pet anyway.” The can of bug spray in Mr. Henderson’s hand clattered to the floor. “A young woman like you, keeping a snake that long? Aren’t you afraid it’ll crawl into your bed at night?” I forced a tight smile, my fingers digging into the doorframe. “It’s just for fun. And, you know… for self-defense.” Mr. Henderson gave me a helpless look. “Well, if you’re sure, then—” CRASH! The ceiling lamp, along with the snake, came crashing down. Before anyone could react, the snake had wrapped itself around my body, its head rubbing affectionately against my cheek. “See?” I said, my voice trembling only slightly. “I told you he’d make a great pet.” 2 The pop-up comments flew across my vision, a cascade of mockery aimed at the hero: [So much for his pride. That lasted all of one second.] [LMAO, the whiplash! One second he’s all ‘I will never be a pet,’ the next he’s like, ‘You know, pet life doesn’t sound so bad!’] [Look how tightly he’s clinging to her. He’s terrified of getting bludgeoned by the neighbors!] [I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little jealous of the snake right now. Tanya’s figure is… wow.] [Am I the only one focused on her body? That’s my dream physique right there. Drop the workout routine, girl!] … My neighbors left, shaking their heads. I tugged on the snake’s tail, trying to peel him off me, but he wouldn’t budge. He blinked his curious golden eyes at me as if he’d discovered a new continent. His tail gave my skin a tentative little rub. His forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air near my neck. He stared at me for a moment, then nuzzled into the curve of my neck. When his golden, slitted pupils met mine, I could have sworn I saw a faint blush cross his scales. “Um,” I said, my voice strained. “Could you maybe get off now? I’m having a little trouble breathing.” The snake finally unwound himself. On his way back to the terrarium, he bumped into the wall three times and hit the corner of the coffee table twice. [HELP! Our snake hero is so blissed out his brain has short-circuited!] [This poor, innocent snake has never known such pleasure in his twenty-plus years of life.] [Red alert! He was so bold wrapping himself around her, and now he can’t even slither in a straight line. LMAO.] [Is he that pure? I bet when he was pressed up against her, he was already planning out names for their future snake-babies.] [EMERGENCY! I think my snake has brain damage!] 3 I don’t know if it was my “self-defense” comment that did it. But from that day on, things changed. When I left in the morning, the white snake would be coiled by my front door. When I came home at night, he would follow me around like a shadow. He’d join me at the dinner table. He’d climb onto my bed at night. My already small apartment felt even more cramped. Maybe my phone was listening, because ever since I got the snake, my social media feed was flooded with snake content. Snake behavior, different snake species, even diagrams of snake reproductive organs… But I wasn’t interested in snakes. I was interested in money. I kept scrolling. Suddenly, a video of a man with chiseled abs, tagged “#BlackSnake,” filled my screen. “Hey, girl. You like a black snake like me?” a ridiculously seductive voice purred from my phone’s speaker. I jumped. Okay, so I wasn’t just interested in money. I was also interested in men. My morals were directly proportional to my bank account balance. I quickly hit the like button and started typing a comment: “The algorithm gets me.” Just then, the white snake, who had slithered over without me noticing, swiped his tail across my screen. He hit: Reduce recommendations for this type of content. Then, looking thoroughly pleased with himself, he slithered over to the other side of my bed. I pondered his motives. Hmm. It was probably the same reason Ginger the cat got upset when I fed other strays. Basic biological possessiveness. 4 The news that I was keeping a snake spread through the neighborhood like wildfire. The local seniors held a meeting and decided that a snake was not a sustainable long-term solution for my security. They concluded that I was only feeling unsafe because I was a single woman living alone. So, the next day, they showed up at my door armed with a stack of photos of eligible bachelors. “This one has a great income, but he’s a little short. His parents are locals, though, and he’s not bad-looking,” one of the ladies, Mrs. Gable, said, pointing. “This one is tall and handsome, but his job isn’t very stable.” Mrs. Gable turned to me. “Tanya, honey, what’s your type? You have a steady job, and even if you don’t have savings, you’re a beautiful girl. You don’t have parents to worry about these things for you, so let us be your family and help you out. Don’t be shy, tell us what you want!” I’m a simple woman. Life is hard enough; if my husband was ugly too, how could I go on? I scanned the photos, and my eyes landed on a handsome guy named Sean who was even a little younger than me. “Him,” I said. “I like the handsome ones.” Mrs. Gable beamed. “I get it, I get it! We’ll set it up!” They left, happily planning the logistics of our first date. I closed the door and turned around, only to be met by a pair of intense golden eyes. For a second, I felt a pang of guilt, as if I’d just cheated on him. Mrs. Gable was efficient. A date was set for the next evening. As I was about to leave, the white snake suddenly wrapped himself around my waist. “No, I can’t take you with me.” This snake was a temporary arrangement. I had a future to think about, and I was serious about finding someone to date and marry. Bringing a snake was absolutely out of the question. But he only tightened his grip, his eyes conveying a silent, stubborn refusal. I tugged at his tail, trying to uncoil him. “Stop messing around.” A few seconds later, he was wrapped around me again. Defeated, I had no choice but to cancel the date. 5 That night, the snake made himself right at home on my bed, wiggling and twisting around as if he’d won the lottery. When I came back from my shower, I found him coiled up on my bra, fast asleep. I gasped and lunged to grab it. But he held on tight, refusing to let go. [The protagonist’s mating season is hitting hard, he can’t control it. Only the scent from her clothes can get him through it.] [Look how content he is. He doesn’t need money. He needs this.] [You can’t blame him. Our boy has awakened.] I was no match for his strength. So I grabbed a laundry pole and aimed it at the most vulnerable spot on his neck. “If you don’t let go right now, I’m going to poke you!” He understood. He glanced at the pole, then reluctantly slithered off the bra. Just as I lowered the pole, he darted forward and dove right inside my pajama top. He wrapped himself around my torso several times, then poked his head out of the collar. We stared at each other, eye to eye. [What a genius. Who needs the bra when the real thing is right here?] [Ahem, just asking for a friend, are they… impressive? I’m in a hurry.] [It’s just two of them, Tanya honey, you can handle it!] “Get. Down.” I pointed at his head, my voice firm. He shook his little head. No. Sigh. Whatever. The comments made it sound like this was a temporary phase. If I let him cling for a little while, maybe he’d calm down. 6 That night, I fell into a deep sleep and had a strange dream. In the dream, a colossal white serpent was wrapped around my body, its coils tightening until I felt like I was going to be torn apart. I gasped for air, tried to scream for help, but nothing worked. I woke with a start, my forehead beaded with cold sweat. There was something cool and smooth in my hand. I looked down and sucked in a sharp breath. The white snake was coiled around my hand, sleeping peacefully. The pop-up comments went into overdrive: [What just happened? Why is my screen all blurry?] [You can’t see? Hehe, I saw everything. I’m a premium member.] [Where do I subscribe?! Tell me! I’ll pay extra!] [Look at Tanya, all dazed and confused. She thinks it was just a dream!] [Our snake hero is super sensitive to smells. When his mating season hit tonight, all he could think about was her scent. He couldn’t help but sneak over for a few secret kisses.] **[I saw it! First, he ******, and then he just passed out from exhaustion.] My eyes widened in horror. I flung the snake off me. He opened his golden eyes, looking at me with pure, bewildered innocence. [Oh no, she found out.] [He’s so hurt. She thinks he’s dirty.] [He tried so hard to resist, but she just smells too good.] [He’s just a baby snake! How could he possibly resist the temptation of cuddling? It’s just snake nature.] [Don’t say any more. He’s so ashamed he can’t even face her.] … The white snake lowered his head and quickly slithered out the open window.

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My daughter, Lily, and my nephew, Leo, are the same age. My mother-in-law always said, “One spot per address, that’s the rule.” That’s why my mom shelled out three hundred thousand dollars for the down payment on a small condo for us, right inside the boundary lines for the prestigious Northwood Elementary School. But when I went to Lily’s orientation, the system couldn’t find her registration. I thought my husband, Mark, must have made a typo. But the principal looked at me, confused. “Mrs. Davis, the information your husband submitted was for a boy. Do you have two children?” 1 “What do you mean?” I leaned over her desk and spun the monitor toward me. There it was. The proof of residency, the deed to the condo my mother paid for, had been used to register a student. And under the student’s information, a small, typed line: “Enrollment confirmed by parent/guardian signature.” My voice trembled. “Confirmed? When did I confirm any of this?” “But… the child has already started school. His uncle—your husband—dropped him off this morning…” The principal’s face paled as she fumbled through a file folder. “Here. This is your husband’s signature on the final registration forms. He said he was the point of contact for all school matters, and that you were fully aware of the arrangement…” “Like hell I was!” The words exploded out of me. I shot up from the chair, banging my hip on the corner of the desk. My purse strap caught and tore, a long scratch marking the leather. I didn’t care. I stabbed the elevator button and headed straight for the first-grade wing. My sister, Sara, who had come with me for support, was scrambling behind me. “Chloe! Slow down!” she yelled. “You forgot your purse!” I didn’t look back. One thought hammered in my head: “Get to Room 101. Get to Room 101 and see who it is.” The door to Room 101 was slightly ajar. I could hear the smug, self-satisfied voice of my sister-in-law, Brenda. “See? This is what a top-tier school gets you. The classroom is so bright, look at these ergonomic chairs! My Leo is practically guaranteed an Ivy League spot now. Oh, you’re the best, Mark. Your sister knew she could count on you.” I shoved the door open. Mark’s mom was standing by a desk, beaming as she stroked my nephew’s hair. Brenda was holding a box of Godiva chocolates, feeding them to Leo one by one. And my husband, Mark, was at the desk, carefully writing Leo’s name on the cover of a pristine new textbook. The sound of the door banging against the wall made them all jump. Mark’s head snapped up, his face went ghost-white, his eyes filled with panic. He rushed over, grabbing my arm, mouthing silently, “Not here. Please, Chloe. We can talk about this at home. Don’t make a scene.” I ripped my arm away from him and snatched the book from his hand. “Where did you get this? This is the special edition set my mom brought back from London for Lily! Did you steal it?” Mark’s mom shot me a sideways glance, her lips curling into a fake, placating smile. “Oh, Chloe, you’re here! Come, find a seat!” Brenda shot to her feet. “What do you mean, steal? Lily can get another set. Leo wanted this one. He gets first pick, he’s the man of the house now.” My fingers were shaking with rage. “Chloe, let’s go,” my sister Sara said, pulling at my arm, her voice low and urgent. “Making a scene here won’t solve anything. This whole family is shameless. We need to get home and call a lawyer. If we wait, Lily might lose her chance to enroll anywhere this semester.” I looked down and saw Sara was holding Lily’s little unicorn backpack. My daughter was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide, her lower lip trembling as tears welled up. Seeing my sister pull me away, Brenda smirked and held out the half-empty box of chocolates. “Here, Chloe. Since you were so generous, this is a little thank-you gift from me. Leo really appreciates his auntie.” Sara was dragging me toward the exit. Mark scrambled after us, grabbing my other arm. “Chloe, just calm down. Please, listen to me.” “Brenda’s going through a messy divorce. The economy’s tough, she can’t afford a place in this district… Leo’s just a kid, he deserves a good school. Can’t you do this for me, for my family? Yell at me all you want at home, but don’t do it here. You’re hurting my mom and my sister’s feelings…” The entire time, he never once looked at our daughter. Every word was an excuse for his own despicable actions, a plea for his precious sister and nephew. I stopped walking and turned to look at Lily’s heartbroken little face. She was always such a good, sweet kid. And on her first day of school, the path I had laid for her had been stolen. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, the sharp pain like a bucket of ice water snapping me back to reality. Mark was still rambling on with his sob story. I screamed, “He deserves a good school? Your mother told me the spot at her house was for Leo, which is why MY MOTHER bought a condo for Lily! Are you all playing dumb?” “Are you crazy, Chloe?” he hissed back. “We keep it in the family! He’s our nephew! Is it really worth making such an ugly scene over? Besides, what’s wrong with the local public school? You’re just being selfish! Now get out of my way, I need to take Lily to get registered there.” 2 “Our nephew?” I told my sister to take Lily to the car. “Mark,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Those Chanel earrings your sister is wearing? I’ve been looking for them for a month. And that new tablet her son is playing on? My dad sent that from Germany for Lily’s birthday. Your family has a real talent for swapping things out, don’t you?” Mark’s face stiffened. He stammered, “She just borrowed the tablet… Leo really wanted it, and Brenda started crying when I said no…” “He really wanted it? Why doesn’t he wish for a new dad while he’s at it? You’re scared of making your sister cry, but you’re not scared of me divorcing you?” I took a step closer. “I was the one who stood in line for hours in that lottery just to get an application for this school. I asked you to handle the final paperwork because my sister was in labor. But one phone call from Brenda and you run off, leaving our daughter’s future in the dust. I show up today to find out the spot my mother paid for has been given to your nephew. Have you no conscience? Or did I do something in a past life to deserve being tormented by the Davis family?” Before he could answer, Brenda marched over. “Chloe, I am begging you, have some compassion. Everyone falls on hard times. Remember when you needed that specialist for your pre-wedding checkup? Who got you that appointment? Me. And after you had the baby, didn’t I help you out? The hell I’ve been through raising a kid alone is way worse than what you’re feeling today! Leo calls you ‘Auntie,’ but you only think about your own daughter. How can you be so selfish?” “You dare bring that up? Does your family just think I’m a total pushover? Someone you can walk all over for the rest of my life?” If murder wasn’t a crime, I would have thrown them all off a cliff. “You’ve been through hell? I’ve been played for a fool by your entire family, and I’m not the one who’s suffering? My daughter doesn’t have a school to go to, and she’s not the one who’s suffering?” “I’m sending MY daughter to a good school with MY family’s money! It has nothing to do with you!” Brenda clearly hadn’t expected me to fight back so publicly. She grit her teeth, stormed back into the classroom, grabbed the books, and threw them on the floor outside. Then she stomped on them. “Who cares about your stupid limited edition! My son doesn’t want your secondhand crap anyway!” The commotion drew a crowd of other parents and a few frantic teachers who tried to intervene. I had no energy left to fight. I turned and walked away. As the elevator doors slid shut, I could faintly hear Brenda’s curses and Mark’s pathetic attempts to explain. And in that quiet, descending box, a strange calm washed over me. My sister was right. When you look like an easy target, people will never stop targeting you. 3 Worried about Lily, Sara drove us back to our parents’ house. Lying in my childhood bed, staring at the ceiling, the last eight years of my marriage replayed like a corrupted film reel. When I first met his family, Brenda had been sickeningly sweet, grabbing my hand. “I’ve always wanted a sister to go shopping with and talk to. And now, here you are!” Minutes later, while Mark was on the phone, she handed me a brochure for a comprehensive fertility and health screening. “It’s nothing personal, sweetie. It’s just, you’re young, you’ve probably never had a full workup. This package is two thousand dollars, and I had to pull some strings to get you an appointment.” I was mortified. I told her Mark and I already had our own physicals scheduled. Her smile vanished. She grabbed Mark as soon as he returned and berated him. “Why do you need a checkup? You’re a man. It’s the woman who needs to be checked out, make sure everything is clean and ready to produce an heir!” Then came the wedding planning. His parents took a back seat; Brenda made all the decisions. “Let’s keep it traditional,” she’d announced. “My parents will contribute ten thousand towards your down payment, and your parents can match it.” But at the wedding reception, during the toasts, she got up and gave a speech. She went on and on, thanking her parents for their “incredibly generous fifty-thousand-dollar gift” that “made Mark and Chloe’s dream home possible,” while my parents’ contribution was glossed over as “a lovely fund for their honeymoon.” Those words caused a ripple of whispers through the reception hall. The looks of pity, confusion, and even a little scorn felt like needles in my back. They didn’t know my parents had paid for our entire downtown condo, a retail space, and both our cars. Her parents’ check was a fraction of that. Why would she lie? My sister was furious and confronted her. Brenda just smiled sweetly. “Oh my goodness, was I mistaken? I just think it’s a bit tacky to talk about money, you know? We’re all family now. What matters is what we know, not what outsiders think.” It got worse. After the wedding, she posted a photo of me from our wedding day next to my medical report, with the most disgusting caption: “Welcome to the family, Chloe! So glad my brother finally invested in some blue-chip stock. Let’s hope the dividends are high! 😉 #Certified” I completely lost it. Mark and I had our first major fight. He called his sister right in front of me, his voice harsher than I’d ever heard it, telling her she was out of line and had to delete it immediately. On the other end of the line, Brenda burst into theatrical sobs. “It was a joke! How could you turn on me like this? I dropped out of community college and worked two jobs waiting tables to put you through grad school! I sacrificed everything for you, for this family! Have you forgotten? And now you attack me to defend your new wife? You’re breaking my heart!” She screamed at him that he was ungrateful and told him to choose: his wife or his sister. We were newlyweds. Of course he wouldn’t choose divorce. He just sat there, deflated and miserable. He had stood up for me, and I knew he was caught in an impossible position. His father, who was still alive then, stepped in and made Brenda apologize. For Mark’s sake, I forced a smile, played the peacemaker, and accepted her half-hearted apology. A year later, Brenda announced she was pregnant. My in-laws were overjoyed and bought her a small house in their town. I tried to stay out of it. It was their money. My philosophy was to keep a polite distance. But she never stopped calculating. She was always fishing for information about my family’s import-export business, about my sister’s finances, about our assets. The battle lines were drawn long ago. 4 My parents travel constantly for their business. Just before school started, a big shipment to Europe got held up in customs, and they had to fly out on short notice to deal with it. Before she left, my mom made sure the deed for the condo was solely in my name, reminding me over and over to handle Lily’s school registration. But then my sister went into labor, and I rushed to the hospital to be with her. I left the deed and all the registration documents with Mark. He beat his chest and promised he’d take care of everything. Thinking back, it was all part of their plan. A conspiracy between him, his sister, and his mother to play me for a fool. They knew my parents were out of the country and my sister was preoccupied. They saw their window, thinking I was isolated and they could pressure me into giving in. After all, the kid was already in school. What was I going to do, flip the table? “Can’t you sleep, honey?” It was Sara’s voice from the doorway. I quickly sniffled back a tear. “Just a lot on my mind.” “Tell me the truth, Chloe. Have they always treated you like this? You’ve gotten so quiet over the years.” It wasn’t just me. It was Lily, too. Brenda and I were pregnant around the same time. After I gave birth, I was weak, and Mark had just been transferred to a project in another city for six months. Brenda suggested I move in with their mom for a while. She wasn’t working, she said, and could help with the two babies. One day, I came home to the sound of Lily’s blood-curdling screams. I dropped my bags and ran into the bedroom. The scene made my blood run cold. Lily’s right ear was a mess of blood. My mother-in-law was dabbing at it with a tissue. I was so scared my knees felt weak. “What happened?” When Lily saw me, she cried even harder, reaching for me with her tiny arms. Leo started wailing, too. Brenda rushed in, clearly shaken, and scooped up her son. “They were just playing,” she stammered. “Kids don’t know their own strength. It was just a game of darts, he accidentally nicked her…” A game of darts? She had let her son use my daughter as a living dartboard. That’s when I saw it. A cheap plastic dart was stuck in Lily’s ear, the sharp metal tip piercing right through the delicate cartilage. Seeing my expression, Brenda tried to backtrack. “Lots of girls get those cartilage piercings for fashion, right? Look, she got one for free! Saved you some money down the line.” I exploded. “SHE’S NINE MONTHS OLD!” My mother-in-law had been there the whole time. How could she not know how dangerous that was? How could she let her daughter entertain herself by hurting my child? Thankfully, after three stitches at the ER, the doctor said there would be no permanent damage. I called Mark and screamed at him until I was hoarse. That night, I called a lawyer. I was done. But then, I’d watch Lily sleeping, crying out for “Dada” in her dreams, and my resolve would crumble. Mark showed up at my parents’ house and knelt on the doorstep for hours, swearing he would never let me or Lily get hurt again. It’s clear now that I was a fool to believe his pathetic lies. He’s been a parasite’s host for so long, he’s become a parasite himself. He’s willing to be bled dry, but now he expects me and my daughter to be the blood bank, too. What a joke. As the last tear fell, I felt strangely calm. What was the point of an emotional breakdown? They had orchestrated this whole thing because, in the past, I had always backed down for the sake of my child. I gave them the illusion that I was a doormat. Too bad for them. They made a fatal miscalculation. They can mess with me. But they don’t get to mess with my daughter.

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The year he loved me most, Julian Astor swore he’d die before his mother would let our engagement fall through. That was the same year he begged me to marry him. And now, he’s the one bringing his cousin into our lives, insisting she move in with us—on the same day we get married. Just before the wedding, Julian had the nerve to call and lay down the law. “Clara’s had a tough life,” he said, his voice smooth and commanding. “Letting her live with us is already a step down for her pride. On the wedding day, my driver will pick her up first and bring her to the estate. You just be a good girl, Nora. Don’t make a scene.” What Julian didn’t know was that I had already called the whole thing off with his mother. Tomorrow, I’m leaving New York for good. As for who gets picked up first, Clara or some other girl, it has nothing to do with me anymore. en I went to the Astor’s penthouse on Fifth Avenue to officially end things, his mother, Eleanor Astor, asked me, “Nora, are you absolutely sure about this?” I just nodded. “You understand,” she continued, her voice sharp but not unkind, “once you walk away from the Astors, even if you’re not the one at fault, breaking into this circle again, finding someone of a… comparable stature… will be next to impossible.” I met her gaze, my own unwavering. After I signed the papers dissolving the prenuptial agreement, she sighed and had her head of household, Mrs. Gable, show me out. Mrs. Gable took me the long way, past the rooftop conservatory. Tucked away in a corner were two faint, worn patches on the expensive turf, completely out of place with the rest of the manicured perfection. I couldn’t help but stare. Mrs. Gable’s eyes misted over. “I still remember it,” she said softly. “Three years ago. Mr. Julian knelt right there, begging Mrs. Astor to let him marry you. She wouldn’t budge, so he stayed out here for three days and nights. No food, no water. We thought we were going to lose him.” I froze, the memory hitting me like a physical blow. 2yents were entrepreneurs—new money. I was a “business girl.” Julian was an Astor, the heir to a fortune that was practically American royalty. Our worlds weren’t supposed to mix. But when I was seven, my parents and I were at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, and through a crazy turn of events, I helped a lost little boy find his security detail. That boy was Julian. After that, he never really left me alone. Seven-year-old Julian was a cherubic kid in a tiny cashmere coat. The man he grew into was devastatingly charming. To say I didn’t fall for him would be a lie. But loving him was one thing. Marrying into his world was another. Julian knew my fears. He promised I would be his wife, his equal. When his mother objected, he staged that dramatic protest on their Hamptons lawn. I remember seeing him in his bed afterward, pale, his lips cracked, looking like a fragile porcelain doll. He was barely conscious, but he leaned his head on my shoulder and whispered, “Nora, my mother agreed. She finally agreed.” His voice was weak, but his eyes were shining. “You’re going to be my wife. My only one.” The sky was full of stars that night, but none of them burned as brightly as the smile on his face. A universe of stars that I’ll never see again. 3 MG was about to say more when the sound of laughter echoed from the hallway. Not far off, Julian was playing a game of tag with Clara among the modern sculptures. They were so caught up they didn’t see us. In a clumsy, playful lunge, Julian grabbed Mrs. Gable from behind, thinking she was Clara. “Gotcha!” he teased, his voice husky. Then he pulled off his blindfold. His grin vanished when he saw Mrs. Gable’s stony, unamused face. Clara, with her perfect timing, rushed over, pouting. “Julian, you found me!” Mrs. Gable had clearly had enough of her act. “Mrs. Astor was very clear,” the housekeeper said, her voice dripping with ice. “The young lady is not to act improperly with the master of the house before she is formally a guest. She instructed me to discipline Miss Clara on her behalf. A stern verbal warning is in order.” Before Julian could process it, Mrs. Gable delivered a verbal dressing-down so sharp and precise it was more humiliating than a slap. Clara’s face went from pale to crimson. Then, Clara’s tear-filled eyes landed on me. She immediately crumpled to the floor. “Nora,” she sobbed, “it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have stolen your thunder, moving in on the same day. If you hate me, you should have just said so! Why did you have to run to Mrs. Astor and have her… have her servant huliate mlike this? I may not have much, but I still have my pride! This is just cruel!” Julian spun on me. “Nora, what are you even doing here? You should be at home, getting ready for the wedding.” Before I could answer, Clara dramatically lurched towards a marble column as if to hit her head, then swayed and collapsed in a heap. “Are you happy now?!” Julian shot at me. He gave me a hard shove, then rushed to Clara’s side, cradling her. “Somebody! Get my security! Use my card to get Dr. Andrews from his private practice over here, now!” The hallway was decorated with a large, brutalist metal sculpture with wickedly sharp edges. Julian had pushed me right against it. A sharp pain made me hiss. “Miss, you’re bleeding,” Mrs. Gable said, alarmed. Julian’s gaze flickered to my right hand. The palm was sliced open, a messy combination of blood and mangled skin. He hesitated, a flash of concern in his eyes, but before he could speak, Clara moaned from his arms. “I know… I’ll never be lucky like Nora… marrying a man like you, Julian,” she whispered, as if delirious. “To die in your arms… I have no regrets.” Whatever softness was in Julian’s face hardened instantly. He looked back at me, his voice laced with contempt. “It’s just a little blood, stop being so dramatic. Clara’s life is on the line and she hasn’t made a sound. Your little tricks for attention are pathetic, Nora. I’m starting to find you disgusting.” “Mr. Julian, you will watch your tone!” Mrs. Gable snapped. “Mrs. Gable, I respect you because you helped raise me, but don’t forget your place. I am the heir to this family, and you are staff!” He didn’t notice the faint, triumphant smile that touched Clara’s lips as she lay “unconscious” in his arms. Before he left, Julian lowered his voice to a menacing whisper. “This is the last time. If you ever mess with Clara again, I swear to God, I’ll call off this wedding myself.” “Sir, you don’t understand, Miss Nora came to see your mother to—” Mrs. Gable blurted out, trying to defend me. I shook my head slightly, signaling her to stop. I knew Julian. It was all or nothing with him. If I told him I was the one ending it, he’d just see it as another power play, another move in a game against Clara. What was the point? Besides, when I met with his mother, she signed the papers, but she didn’t give them to me. “Nora,” she’d said, “I know your mind is made up. But please, for my sake, give my son one last chance. Indulge an old woman’s foolish hope.” So, we made a bet. A seven-day bet. To see if Julian would notice, truly notice, that was gting ready to leave his life forever. When we made the wager, Mrs. Gable had been so sure. “Seven days? Miss, he’s a sharp one. He’ll figure it out in one.” Now, Julian stared at me suspiciously. “What did you need to see my mother for?” “To complain,” I said flatly. As the word left my mouth, I felt the familiar heat rise in my ears. Mrs. Gable saw it instantly in the afternoon light, her expression turning hopeful. Lying always made my ears turn bright red. It was a dead giveaway. Back when he was still trying to win me over, Julian would catch me in a fib and just stare at my glowing ears with a knowing smirk. “You know your ears turn red when you lie, right, Nora?” he’d say. I’d get flustered and try to run, but he’d corner me under the cherry trees in the Brooklyn otanic Garden, cherry blossoms falling around us like snow. He’d lean in, his voice low and serious. “Nora. I’m in love with you.” After we got engaged, he loved telling people my quirks. How I loved the cannolis from that little bakery in Little Italy, how I was terrified of eating fish after choking on a bone as a kid, and how my ears always betrayed me when I lied. He’d told the story so many times that even Mrs. Gable could spot my lie from a mile away. But Julian, the man who claimed to know me best, just scoffed. “Complain? That’s so childish. God, Nora, sometimes I really regret fighting so hard to marry you.” He turned his back on me without another glance, carrying Clara away down the hall. I watched him go, a bitter taste filling my mouth. My heart felt like it was being squeezed and torn apart, a million tiny pinpricks of pain. Even though I had prepared myself for this, hearing those words from him still hurt more than I could bear. Mrs. Gable stamped her foot in frustration. “Idiot! Complete and utter fool! How could Mrs. Astor have raised such a blind fool? Are we sure he wasn’t switched at birth?” She muttered to herself, trying to salvage the situation. “Don’t you worry, miss. Don’t you worry. There are still six days left. There’s time! There’s time!” I let out a small, humorless laugh. A breeze swept through the conservatory. Petals swirled in the air. I reached out and caught one. The flowers were just as beautiful this year. What a waste. 4 My bet wilr Astor had stakes. If she won, I’d tear up the annulment papers and marry Julian. If she lost, she’d grant me one favor a day. Day one, she lost. My request was for a vial of the Seraphina Serum. It was a legendary, custom-compounded formula from a private clinic in Switzerland, famous for its regenerative properties. One course of treatment, and they said your skin would be flawless, scars vanished. Hearing my request, Mrs. Gable assumed I was finally going to fight for Julian’s affection. She was practically giddy when she delivered it to my apartment. “If you really put your mind to it, miss, that Clara doesn’t stand a chance against you. Not even for a second.” Then she saw the raw, gaping wound on my palm, and her excitement turned to horror. “Oh, dear child. That must have hurt so terribly.” I managed a small smile. “It’s better that it hurts. The pain helps you remember.” After she left, I called my assistant. “Take this to Catherine Sheffield,” I instructed. “Go to the service entrance. Knock three times. Make sure you hand it directly to Catherine herself, no one else.” The serum was for Catherine. She’s three years older than me, a kind, brilliant woman who once defended me when some society snobs were making fun of my “new money” background. But she married the wrong man. That bastard from the Sheffield family was cheating on her openly with his assistant. Three days ago, Catherine was violently mugged coming out of a charity event. Her husband? He was “out of town” with his mistress and didn’t eve bother to come back. Catherine survived, but the attack left a deep, ugly scar across her cheek. Before this, she was known as the most beautiful woman in Manhattan. The Seraphina Serum was meant for her. 5 On the second,ent to my shops downtown early. My family’s business consisted of about a hundred retail properties—some my parents left me, and a few Julian had given me as gifts. I’d already found buyers for my parents’ properties. The ones from Julian were trickier: two bakeries, a designer clothing boutique, a high-end cosmetics shop, and a custom jewelry store. The cosmetics shop, in particular, was a gold mine. My plan was simple: sell the property deeds to the current store managers, who I trusted, and transfer the money back to the Astor family account. The deals for the bakery, jewelry, and clothing stores went smoothly. But when I got to the cosmetics shop, I ran into Clara. Her forehead was smooth, a touch of pink highlighter at her brow bone. Not a scratch on her. When the manager, Mr. Shaw, greeted me as “the owner,” she let out a derisive laugh. “Owner? Please. We all know you just sweet-talked my cousin into giving you one of the best retail spots in the city.” Mr. Shaw, ever the professional, simply smiled and politely escorted her out. After we finalized the contract, he paused before signing. “Ms. Vance,” he asked, his eyes sharp, “when you leave the city, are you heading to the West Coast, by any chance?” I was surprised. “How did you know I was going to California?” “I’m not blind, ma’am. A few days ago, I saw you arranging for two large shipping containers. The manifest listed a month’s worth of personal supplies and several crates of… artisan textiles. Out of all the markets in the country, that specific style does best out west. It was just a guess.” “You’re right. I’m leaving New York to start a new business there.” “Forgive me for being blunt, but I don’t believe you. Your New York network is your lifeblood. You wouldn’t liquidate everything just to expand. I’m not a genius, but I’m loyal. Please, when you go, take me with you.” “Why? Isn’t business good here in New York?” I asked, genuinely confused. By my estimates, his appointment book was full for the next three months. “I have someone… a fiancée… in California,” he said, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I’ve been in love with her for a long time. It took me ten years to save up enough to finally propose and feel worthy of her. The drive across the country is long and hard. A direct move with your resources would be much easier. I’d be happy to work for you there.” I looked at him. “And would you, after getting engaged, invite your cousin to come live with you and your fiancée?” He looked horrified. “What? Of course not! I’m marrying into her family. If I triedo pl a stunt like that, her brothers would probably bury me in the desert!” He looked down, embarrassed by his outburst. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll take you with me. Be ready to leave in six days.” When I got back to my apartment, Julian was there, sipping a whiskey. He scowled when he saw me. “Our wedding is in six days,” he snapped. “And you’re out all day, running around town with other men. What is that supposed to look like?” “After I marry into your family, I won’t be able to manage these businesses personally. The managers have been excellent, so I decided to sell the properties to them. It saves the Astor family any potential embarrassment.” Julian stared at me, his eyes fixed on my ears. They were burning hot. They must have been beet red. I felt a pang of panic. Did he see? Did he finally realize I was lying to him? 6 He hesitated for a nhen reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside was a pair of stunning ruby and diamond earrings, shaped like butterfly wings. “Here. These are for you.” I took the box and set it on the table without opening it. His face tightened with anger. “Clara begged me for those for weeks, and I didn’t give them to her. I give them to you, and you act like they’re nothing. Nora, there’s a limit to how much you can sulk!” He had forgotten. I don’t have pierced ears. I never wear earrings. Sensing he had the upper hand, he pressed his advantage. “Where’s the deed to that cosmetics shop on the west side? Give it to me. Clara doesn’t have much of a trust fund. If she moves into the estate with nothing to her name, people will talk.” “But everyone in New York knows you gave me that shop as an engagement present,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “Giving it to Clara as a ‘welcome to the family’ gift… that’s what will make peoplealk.” Why do you have to be so petty, Nora? It’s just one property! Besides, I gave it to you, which means I have the right to decide who gets it! If my mother hadn’t put a limit on my monthly allowance, you think I’d be here asking you for it?” “Well, you’re too late. I already sold the deed to the manager. The money has been wired to your family’s account. If you want it, you’ll have to ask your mother.” “You did this on purpose,” he snarled, his eyes flashing. “You went to my mother to make Clara look bad, didn’t you?” “If that’s what you want to believe, fine,” I said, my exhaustion hitting me like a wall. “I’m tired. Rose, please show Mr. Astor out.” Julian, convinced I had done it all just to spite Clara, stormed out, muttering under his breath. Before he left, he snatched the jewelry box off the table. “If you don’t want them,” he spat, “I know someone who will.” Because of our bet, Eleanor Astor had people keeping tabs on us. The moment Julian left my building, a report was sent to her. On the second day, she lost again. This time, my prize was simple: I asked her to forgive my “presumptuousness” in selling the properties without consulting her fi

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For eighteen years, my adopted son hated me. He was convinced I was the one who killed his birth mother. So, he found a homeless man, riddled with sores from a life on the streets, to destroy me. The day my husband drove me to the lake house to “end things,” our son stood on the shore, watching me walk into the freezing water. His words were colder than the ice. “You know,” he called out, his voice clear and sharp, “every time I had to call you ‘Mom,’ it made me want to vomit. Consider this a final moment of pleasure. My way of repaying you for eighteen years of pretending.” Then, I blinked. And I was reborn as his short-lived, sainted mother. Looking down at my swollen belly, I turned and walked straight into the city’s free clinic. “Hi,” I said to the woman at the desk. “I need to schedule an abortion.” This child must not be born. 01 The water seeped into my mouth and nose, gritty and freezing. My hands were bound behind my back with zip ties, the plastic cutting into my wrists with every struggle. Primal survival instinct made me arch my back, fighting to keep my head above the surface. My vision blurred, but the two figures on the shore remained horrifyingly clear. My husband and my son. They stood side-by-side, their gazes as distant and detached as if they were watching a stray piece of driftwood float by. “Why…” I managed to gasp. The foul lake water rushed in, silencing the weak cry in my throat. Why? I taught you to read, to be a good man. I poured my life into you, and in return, you hire a vagrant to defile me and destroy my name? Why? I loved and respected you, managed your home and your political campaigns, and in return, you watch me die for a crime I didn’t commit? Eighteen years of a mother’s devotion. Twenty years as a loving wife. It was all a sick, elaborate joke. One hated me to the bone, the other saw me as disposable trash. The despair was sharper than the winter water stabbing at my skin. If there is a God, if I get another chance… I will burn their world to the ground. … I opened my eyes. Someone was on top of me, a warm hand sliding across my skin. To be subjected to this humiliation even in death? The rage that had been simmering in my soul erupted. I shoved the man off me with all my strength and, in the same motion, swung my hand across his face. CRACK! A sharp, stinging pain shot through my palm. I froze. This wasn’t a dream? In the dim glow of a bedside lamp, I saw the man’s face. It wasn’t the homeless man with his vacant eyes and open sores. It was my husband, Julian Ashworth. A bright red handprint was already blooming on his left cheek. He stared at me, his expression one of pure shock. “Catherine? What’s wrong? Is it the baby kicking again?” The baby? I followed his gaze down. And saw a distinctly pregnant belly. When I didn’t speak, Julian’s concern deepened. “What is it? Catherine, talk to me!” His handsome face was a mask of worry. A complete one-eighty from the cold indifference he’d shown me on the lakeshore. Almost without thinking, I raised my hand again. And slapped his other cheek even harder. 02 While Julian was still stunned, I scrambled away from him. I didn’t even bother with my shoes, just ran to the full-length mirror against the wall. The mirror reflected a face that was both familiar and utterly alien. A small, delicate face. Skin like porcelain, eyes misty and soft, a look of fragile vulnerability. This was the face of Catherine. The woman who, in my previous life, had existed only as a tragic, sainted memory for my husband and son. Their “white moonlight,” the one that got away. I stared at her. She stared back at me. A wave of profound, hysterical absurdity washed over me. I couldn’t stop the low chuckle that escaped my lips. It grew louder, wilder, until I was laughing so hard that tears streamed down my cheeks. Oh, God. You really do have a twisted sense of humor. I was reborn. And I was reborn as the origin of my own tragedy. The beloved ghost at the heart of it all. Perfect. This was just perfect. 03 In my past life, I died on what should have been the happiest day of my life. The wedding of my son, Leo, the boy I had raised as my own. When he and his new bride knelt before me during the reception, I felt that eighteen years of thankless, painstaking love had finally come to fruition. I was giddy with joy. I had a few too many glasses of champagne. Soon, the world was a pleasant blur. My assistant helped me back to my room to lie down. When I woke up again, I was naked, my body covered in disgusting bruises. The homeless man from the city shelter, reeking of sickness and filth, was on top of me. My mind went blank. Before I could even scream, the door was kicked open. My husband Julian, and my son Leo, stood there, leading a crowd of wedding guests behind them. I tried to explain, my words tumbling out in a panicked mess. “No… it’s not what it looks like! I was drugged… I was framed…” “Mom!” Leo’s voice cut through mine, thick with theatrical pain. His eyes were wide with disappointment. “How can you still be lying? Months ago, I saw you talking to this man behind the service entrance. I warned you then, I begged you to stop, for the sake of our family. I thought you would see sense, but instead, you do this? On my wedding day? You bring this filth into our home and shame our entire family!” His words were my death sentence. I had no defense. Amidst a storm of whispers and accusations, I was quietly driven to our remote lake house and “convinced” to end my own life to prevent the scandal from destroying Julian’s political career. But the story didn’t end there. Perhaps my rage was too powerful to simply dissipate. My spirit lingered, a ghost in the Ashworth mansion. Three months later, Julian remarried. His new wife not only looked startlingly like Catherine, but she also came with a son of her own. A boy named Ethan, who was the spitting image of a younger Julian. It was obvious who the real father was. Julian officially adopted him, announcing him as his true firstborn son and heir. Just like that, Leo went from being the sole heir to an afterthought. His stepmother whispered poison into Julian’s ear day and night. Slowly, Julian began to despise him. The household staff, masters of sensing a shift in power, started to cut Leo’s allowance and sideline his allies. Even the trust fund I had set up for him was cleverly rerouted by the new wife to her own son. It was only then that Leo seemed to remember the mother who had loved him unconditionally. A year after my death, he got blackout drunk. He stumbled into his stepmother’s bedroom, collapsed at her feet, and sobbed “Mom,” clutching at her legs. She immediately tore her nightgown and screamed that he was trying to assault her. Julian, in a fury, disowned him and threw him out of the house. The once-golden boy of the Ashworth family ended up freezing to death in an alley, his body ravaged by stray dogs before anyone found him. 04 I snapped back to the present. I looked at Julian, whose face was now impressively, symmetrically swollen. The hatred in my soul churned again. I couldn’t help it. I lunged at him and slapped him one more time for good measure. “Catherine! Have you lost your mind? Do you think I won’t do something about this?” Julian’s mask of gentle concern finally shattered. He clutched his face, his voice a low growl, his eyes flashing with a suppressed violence. Crazy? Fine. I’ll give you crazy. I threw myself at him, beating my fists against his chest, and let out a blood-curdling scream. “Yes! I am crazy! You drove me crazy!” Tears of pure rage streamed down my face. I dug my nails into his arms. “I’m pregnant with your child, but I’m still your dirty little secret, hidden away in this apartment without even a ring on my finger! Tell me, Julian! What’s the difference between me and some prostitute you keep on retainer?” He grabbed my wrists, his grip so tight I thought the bones would snap. He stared into my eyes, a complex storm of emotions swirling in his. Then, the most incredible thing happened. He lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to my bruised wrist. “Catherine, your hands must hurt from hitting me.” He pulled my trembling body into his arms, resting his chin on the top of my head and letting out a long sigh. “So this is what this is about. You’re angry about not moving into the mansion. Sweetheart, we’ve already been over this.” His voice was a low, hypnotic murmur. “As soon as the baby is born safely, I will throw the biggest party this city has ever seen. I’ll introduce you as my fiancée. We’ll get married. You’ll be my wife, equal to Eleanor in every way.” I shoved him away. “Why do we have to wait? Why not now?” “Because Eleanor is a vindictive bitch!” he hissed, his expression turning serious and protective. “Her family has their claws in everything in D.C. If she found out about you and this baby right now, she would stop at nothing to destroy you both. Catherine, I’ve already lost you once. I can’t risk it again!” He cupped my face in his hands, his gaze intense. “You can resent me, hate me, hit me all you want. But my absolute first priority is keeping you and our child safe. Nothing in this world is more important than that.” He spent the next half hour patiently calming me down. Finally, as if worn down by my hysterics, he relented. “Alright, alright, stop crying, my little drama queen. I have to go to the coast to handle that disaster relief initiative. When I get back, the very first thing I’ll do is start the divorce proceedings and get you moved in. Is that good enough for you?” I finally stopped crying and gave him a reluctant nod. Julian gave detailed instructions to the housekeeper to take good care of me, then, with one last lingering kiss, he left. 05 In my past life, at this exact time, Julian had indeed gone to oversee a relief effort. He was gone for three months. Shortly after his return, Catherine had died in childbirth. He had come to me, Eleanor, holding a newborn Leo, telling me he was the orphan of a dear friend and that he wanted to adopt him. Back then, Julian and I had been married for five years and were struggling with infertility. I was desperate and heartbroken, so I agreed. From that day on, I loved Leo as if he were my own son. I never imagined I was raising a venomous snake at my own breast. But now? I raised a hand, slowly placing it over my swollen stomach. The monster inside, as if sensing my murderous intent, gave a restless little kick. Leo Ashworth. Why don’t you try being born into another family this time.

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Barely a month into freshman year, and this girl from my Intro to Lit class hands me a box of Godiva chocolates and asks me to grab lunch at the dining hall. Under the general principle of “there’s no such thing as a free lunch,” and not really looking to get into anything, I brought the chocolates with me, planning to give them back to her face-to-face. The dining hall wasn’t too packed. She shoved her tray into my hands. “You get the food, I’ll go save us a table. I’ll have the mac and cheese, some green beans, and the beer-braised chicken. Oh, and a bowl of chili.” My roommate, trailing behind me, couldn’t stop laughing. Was he jealous? Nah, probably not. The girl looked like she could hold her own, and a single serving of mac and cheese wasn’t going to cut it. I got two double portions of everything and told my roommate to find his own table with our other buddies. I’d drop off the food and the chocolates, and then join them. She’d found a table in the furthest, darkest corner of the hall and was waving at me like I was a ship coming into port. “You’re so nice! It’s such a blessing to have you as a classmate,” she said, gesturing for me to sit across from her. I pointed back toward my roommates. “Here’s your chocolate back. I didn’t really do anything to deserve it. My friends are waiting for me, so, uh, enjoy your meal.” “Wait!” She stuck her fork out to block my path. “Don’t go. I need to talk to you about something. Just sit, eat with me. You see your roommates every day, right?” I glanced over at my friends. They were definitely watching us. “It’s really important,” she insisted. “Seriously. If you want, I can go tell your roommates to let you off the hook for a bit.” I turned back around, and my roommates were already inhaling their food like a pack of wolves, giving me a thumbs-up with their mouths full before grabbing their trays and bolting. I swear, those guys. Did they really think I was on a date? “Fine,” I said, putting my tray down. “What’s up?” We were new freshmen. Even though we were in the same class, I’d known her for maybe three weeks. I couldn’t even remember her name. “You’re from around here, right? A local?” she asked, already digging in. “Yeah, I am.” “That’s so awesome. You can go home on weekends, eat home-cooked meals, sleep in your own bed. You’re so lucky.” “It’s alright, I guess. When you grow up in a city, you kind of take it for granted. I’m actually jealous of you guys who got to go away for college.” In the time it took to say that, I was halfway through my food. The dining hall was buzzing with people, and I really didn’t want any professors or classmates to get the wrong idea—that I was some desperate guy trying to lock down a girlfriend the second I got to campus. “And your family has an empty condo near campus, right?” “Huh? How did you know that?” “You posted it yourself, silly.” Her question, dropped so casually, felt weird. Then it hit me. Three years ago, to motivate me to study for the SATs, my dad bought a condo right near this university. He made a bet with me: if I got in, the place was mine. Junior year of high school, when the building was finished, I went to check it out. It was nice, with a killer view overlooking the campus football field. I got a little full of myself and posted a ridiculously cocky picture on Instagram with a caption like, “Three-year wager, one year to go. Soon, this view and this crib will be mine. Not that I’m greedy, I just hate to lose.” I cringed. “Oh god, that. I was just messing around. Forgot to delete it.” She chuckled. “I thought it was cool. You’re a good writer. You’re lucky, your family must be well-off to buy you a whole new place. Are you gonna move out of the dorms? I saw from the pictures it’s super close to the east gate.” “No, no way. I’m definitely staying in the dorm. It’s freshman year, you don’t just move off-campus unless you’re, like, moving in with a partner or something. We’re not even sure what we’re doing with the place. My parents think it’s too far for them, so we might just sell it after I graduate. Haven’t really thought about it.” “Well, that’s perfect! You can do me a small favor, then.” I was pretty much done eating, ready to make my escape. “Here’s the thing,” she said, putting down her fork and looking me straight in the eye. “My dad’s been sick for a while. He has to come into the city for hospital treatments all the time. We live in a small town a few hours away, and just the bus ride back and forth takes up the whole day. It’s exhausting. We can’t afford to keep him in the hospital for long stretches, and renting a place in the city is just too expensive. It breaks my heart seeing my parents, at their age, go through that hell just to get to the hospital. That’s why I worked my ass off to get into this school…” We don’t have any doctors in my family. Maybe she wanted me to ask my dad to pull some strings, find a specialist? “…and since you have an empty condo you’re not even using, you could just let us use it. For my dad, for when he has his treatments. It would save them the trip, and all that money could go towards his medical bills instead. Don’t worry about utilities and stuff, we’d cover that. I know those units come furnished, but it’s probably missing some things. We can figure that out. We could even pitch in for some furniture, but it has to be good stuff, you know, no formaldehyde. It’s bad for you, especially for someone who’s already sick…” It took a second, but I finally understood what she was saying. And at the same time, I understood nothing at all. “His next treatment is this Saturday,” she continued, “so I can take you with me to pick him up, and then we can swing by the condo to see what we need to buy. We can make a list together.” The words just fell out of my mouth. “Are you… serious? Is this a joke?” She looked confused. “What do you mean? Who’s joking?” “You. I’m not hearing things, am I? You want me to just… give you my family’s condo for your dad to live in?” “Yeah. Did I not explain it clearly? If he has a place to stay here, he won’t have to take that awful bus ride every week. It’s tiring and a waste of money. I could focus on my studies instead of constantly taking days off. It saves money, time, energy, and a whole lot of anxiety. What’s not to like?” She asked it so simply that for a second, I didn’t know how to respond. What’s not to like? I mean, yeah, it sounded great. For her and her dad. It seemed like the only person she hadn’t considered was the actual owner of the condo. “So it’s settled!” She flashed a brilliant smile, her eyes curving into crescents. It was a nice smile, but there was no way in hell I was agreeing to this. Considering we were in the same class and had four more years together, I went for the gentle approach. “Look, it’s my parents’ place. I’d have to ask them. I’ll let you know.” “Great! It’s a deal! Oh, and at the freshman mixer tonight, I’m sitting with you.” “We’ll see what the RAs have planned,” I said, grabbing my tray. “I’m done. I gotta go. You take your time.” I practically ran out of there. I sprinted back to my dorm room to find my roommates giving me shit. One said I was moving too fast, another said I wasn’t picky. With a grim look on my face, I repeated the girl’s entire proposal. I was met with four slack-jawed stares. The funniest part? None of the five of us could remember her name. “So, are you actually going to ask your parents?” my roommate Sam asked. “Of course not! What would I even say? They’d think I got a girl pregnant. In a couple of days, I’ll just tell her they said no, that they already rented it out.” “A couple of days?” Mark, my roommate from Jersey, chimed in. “She said she’s sitting with you tonight. She’s gonna want an answer tonight.” “Fine. I’ll tell her no tonight. Better to rip the band-aid off.” The event that evening was a mixer for our entire department—four different freshman classes, over a hundred people. The RAs said it was about building unity for future stuff like intramural sports and student government events. Basically, it was a bunch of forced icebreakers and cheesy games. At 7 PM, my roommates and I walked into the lecture hall. It was already half-full and buzzing with noise. The first thing I saw was her, waving frantically from the front rows. My stomach dropped. I pretended I didn’t see her and shuffled with my friends towards the back, grabbing seats in the corner. But she was relentless. She got up and marched over, calling out my name. “Liam! Didn’t you hear me calling you?” “Sorry,” I mumbled, embarrassed. “It’s loud in here, I didn’t see you.” “Come on, sit with me.” “Nah, we’re all sitting together. A dorm thing.” She glared at my four roommates, clearly annoyed. After a beat, she snapped, “Well, can one of you guys move? Don’t you have any social awareness?” Mark scoffed. “There are tons of empty seats. Why do you have to squeeze in here with us? Who even are you?” “We’re in the same class! Liam and I are good friends. What’s wrong with wanting to sit together?” Mark actually laughed out loud. “Good friends? School just started. You guys became ‘good friends’ that fast? Damn, that’s efficient. When are you gonna introduce us to some ‘good friends’?” He was from Jersey; subtlety wasn’t his thing. I quickly jumped in. “It’s about to start. You should probably sit with your roommates. It looks like everyone’s sticking with their own floors.” She thought for a moment. “Fine. But I have a surprise for you later.” She went back to the front. Mark leaned over. “A surprise? You sure you didn’t get her pregnant?” I shot him a look that could kill. The mixer started. The RAs had us do some lame team-building exercises. None of us were really into it. Until that girl walked up to the stage. “Hi everyone, my name is Chloe, and I’m from Section One. I’m going to recite a poem for you all, Maya Angelou’s ‘Still I Rise.’” She even had background music playing from her phone. “You may write me down in history, with your bitter, twisted lies, you may trod me in the very dirt, but still, like dust, I’ll rise…” So her name was Chloe. It rang a faint bell from the first day’s introductions. “…Leaving behind nights of terror and fear, I rise. Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear, I rise.” The room broke into applause. To be fair, she was a pretty good public speaker. When the clapping died down, Chloe didn’t leave the stage. She continued, “I want to dedicate this poem to a classmate of mine. Someone who, like a ray of sunshine, has given me warmth and hope.” A collective “Ooooooh” rippled through the lecture hall. You could practically smell the gossip brewing. “You might not know this, but I come from a low-income family. My father is sick, and my mother has worked her fingers to the bone to keep our family afloat. I swore to myself that I would study hard, get into college, and find a way to help my dad get better, to give my mom a break.” The mood in the room suddenly turned serious. “For his treatments, my dad has to come to the city hospital constantly. Sometimes four or five times a month. Every time, he drags his exhausted body onto a stuffy Greyhound bus for a three-hour ride, all because he wants a chance to live. I was starting to lose hope. I felt like I was just watching him get worn down by this endless cycle of pain.” A few girls in the audience were quietly wiping away tears. “And then he came along,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “When I was just a new student, lost and overwhelmed, he extended a hand as warm as the spring sun. He told me he would lend me his family’s condo, so my dad could stay here in the city, so that three-hour journey could become a short walk. Classmates, this is his family’s new condo. A place no one has ever lived in. How can someone be so kind? So unable to bear witness to the suffering of others? He is my ray of hope. My classmate, Liam!” The lecture hall erupted in applause. Over a hundred pairs of eyes turned to stare at me. Their expressions were a mix of admiration, awe, and maybe something else. I was frozen in my corner, my mind a total blank. My parents divorced when I was a kid and got back together a few years later. It sounds fine, but it made me way more sensitive than other kids. I’m an easy-going guy. I can let things slide. But I will not be walked all over. The head RA smiled. “Liam, why don’t you say a few words?” I could hear girls whispering nearby. “Is he going to confess his feelings?” “Right here? At a freshman mixer? That’s bold.” “In front of the RA and everything. Wow, I must be getting old.” Under the weight of all those expectant stares, I stood up. Facing a teary-eyed Chloe, I spoke clearly and loudly. “You don’t have to thank me. I never said you could use the condo, and I’m not going to.” The chatter in the room died instantly. Every head whipped from me back to Chloe. She looked like she’d been physically struck. She stumbled back a step, grabbing the podium for support. “W-why?” she stammered, tears streaming down her face. “There is no why,” I said. “It’s just not appropriate.” “What’s not appropriate? What?! Tell me what’s not appropriate!” she suddenly shrieked. “First, we’re just classmates who met three weeks ago. When you asked me, I didn’t even remember your name. Why would I lend a brand-new condo to a stranger? Second, you said it’s for your sick father. That makes it even more impossible. Not even my closest relatives would ask for something like that.” “But—” “That’s enough!” The RA cut us off. “You two can discuss this privately. Chloe, please take your seat.” Chloe didn’t move. After a long moment, she covered her face with her hands and ran out of the lecture hall. It was so messed up. It was like I was the one who had bullied her and gone back on my word. Thankfully, the mixer ended soon after. I wasn’t in the mood to stick around anyway. Back in the dorm, I got a call from the RA. She didn’t say much, just asked for my side of the story. After I hung up, my roommates held up their phones. “Dude,” Mark said. “You’re getting put on blast.” It was a new post on the university’s YikYak. A freshly made anonymous account was telling a story about being a freshman who was manipulated by a male classmate. The post claimed this guy had been hitting on her since orientation, bragging about how his family was local and had money and property. He allegedly said if she’d be his girlfriend, he’d do anything for her. So she asked if he could help rent a cheap place near the hospital for her sick father. And that’s when he supposedly turned on her and showed his true colors. The post ended with a long, flowery paragraph about her own resilience. Nothing in the post explicitly connected to me. “Keep scrolling,” Sam said. “Check the replies.” I scrolled down. Another anonymous user had replied: “OMG are you talking about Liam from the English department?” The original poster replied with a smirking emoji. Another reply: “I heard the English dept mixer got shut down early tonight bc of some drama with a guy named Liam.” The OP replied: “Pls don’t spread this around.” All the accounts were brand new. A blind man could see it was a coordinated attack. I screenshotted everything and sent it to my RA, telling her I was going to file a report with campus police for harassment. She called me back immediately, telling me not to be impulsive and that she would handle it. Half an hour later, the YikYak post was gone. The RA then sent a message to our class GroupMe: “Regarding the small incident at tonight’s event, students are reminded not to create, fabricate, or spread false information. We must uphold the image of our class and the integrity of our school. We have four years together, and there will be plenty of opportunities to help one another. Is that understood?” A bunch of people replied with “Got it.” I sent one too. The moment my message went through, a voice memo from Chloe popped up in the chat. Her voice was raw and hoarse. “Liam, what did I ever do to you? Do you want me to die? What’s so wrong with me just wanting to get an education? Do people who need help just deserve to be kicked to the curb? Yes, you have a condo, you have money, you can look down on people. But what rule did I break for you to treat me like this? I’m done. I’m not going to school here anymore. I’m dropping out tomorrow, then you’ll be happy. My whole family can starve and die for all you care, then you’ll be satisfied, right?” Every word was dripping with rage, but a rage that made no sense. The RA replied: “Chloe, the class group chat is not the place for emotional outbursts. If you have a grievance, you can come talk to me. If you have proof that someone has harmed you, the school and I will ensure that justice is served. At the same time, Liam, please write up a formal statement of what you know and submit it to me.” Great. The RA was going for the “blame both sides” approach to smooth things over. I typed directly into the group chat: “Okay, RA. What I know is very simple and can be said in a few sentences. First, I do not know Chloe, nor have I ever paid any attention to her. I didn’t remember her name from the introductions. Second, she approached me, gave me chocolate, and asked me to lunch. I went to the dining hall specifically to return the chocolate, which my roommates can confirm. Third, at the dining hall, she said she had something important to discuss, which is the only reason I sat with her. She then told me about her dad and asked to use my family’s condo. I felt it was inappropriate then, for the same reasons I stated in the lecture hall tonight. Everything after that was her posting about me on YikYak. That is all I know.” The RA replied: “Okay, that’s enough. I will investigate the situation.” It was clear she didn’t fully believe me. But my roommates had my back. One by one, they replied in the chat, confirming that I had planned to return the chocolate from the start, and that none of us in the room could remember her name. A few other classmates who weren’t in my dorm private messaged me to offer their support. “But you agreed!” Chloe typed. “You agreed, so you can’t go back on your word! Are you even a decent human being if you go back on your word?” Then she dropped a file into the chat. An audio file. The second it started playing, I recognized the background noise of the dining hall. She had recorded our conversation. It wasn’t a long clip. I hadn’t said much. When it got to the end, to the part where I said, “Look, it’s my parents’ place. I’d have to ask them. I’ll let you know,” a strange sense of calm washed over me. She was unhinged, but at least she hadn’t edited the recording. Sure enough, a few moments later, the chat filled with confused messages. “Did I hear that right? Doesn’t that sound like he was saying no?” “Yeah, that’s what I heard too. I thought I was the only one.” “He literally said it’s his parents’ place and he can’t make the decision. There’s no way his parents would agree to lend a new condo to a sick stranger they’ve never met.” The chat was blowing up. The RA quickly tried to shut it down: “Everyone stop talking. Chloe, what was the point of you posting that file?” Chloe’s reply, another voice memo, came a minute later: “Everyone listen to it. I have nothing left to say. He agreed in his own words, and then he took it back. I just want to ask, are all guys like this? This is terrifying. Is anyone still going to defend him now? Can you people not see the difference between right and wrong?” The chat filled with question marks. Chloe: “What do you mean? How can you possibly hear that as a rejection? He said he would ask his parents for their permission! That’s not a rejection! Who uses their parents as an excuse to say no? Are you guys deaf, or just stupid?” The question marks stopped. They were replaced by streams of “LMAO” and “Bruh.” Chloe: “What are you laughing at? Stop laughing! I’m telling you, it was an agreement. I have the final say on what it means.” “This is pointless. I’m going to bed,” I typed, then shut my phone off and tossed it on my bed. My roommate Sam, on the bunk next to mine, said, “Before I left for college, my parents told me over and over that you meet all kinds of people out in the world. Good people, crazy people… now I finally get it.” Only Mark was still staring at his phone. After a moment, he frowned. “Yo, I think our RA is kind of biased here.” I grabbed my phone again. The RA had posted a new message: “This discussion is over. Everyone stop. What time is it? Don’t you have class tomorrow? Remember, you are all adults now. You need to communicate clearly to avoid misunderstandings. Serious consequences will be traced back to their source.” A surge of anger shot through me. I started typing a long, furious reply, my thumbs flying across the screen. Just as I was about to hit send, a hand clamped down on my arm.

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1 Leo Vance married me to piss off my sister. After the wedding, he found a million little ways to get under my skin. No fork at dinner, no blanket at bedtime, and I had to report my every move like I was on parole. I was miserable, but too much of a coward to fight back. Until one night, I accidentally overheard him on the phone with my sister, Chloe. He was practically screaming. “Your sister is a block of wood! A beautiful, infuriating block of wood!” “Come on! A block of wood should’ve caught fire by now! I’ve tried everything!” “Fine! The Westgate development deal is yours! Just figure out a way to get your sister to jump my bones tonight!” I just stood there. “Huh?” It had all started when my sister, Chloe, bailed on her own wedding. It was spectacular. A full-blown, Hollywood-style runaway bride situation, leaving the groom standing alone at the altar. In front of the grand ballroom, guests whispered behind their champagne flutes. Backstage, my father was turning purple, jabbing a finger at Chloe. “Are you getting married or not?” “Not!” Chloe’s voice echoed, sharp and final. My dad clutched his chest, looking like he was about to have a heart attack. He fumbled for his nitroglycerin pills, stuffing them into his mouth. I peeked through the curtain. Leo Vance stood on the stage, a vision in a custom white tux with a subtle damask pattern. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, facing a hundred tables of the East Coast’s elite with a look of pure, unadulterated boredom. If this wedding didn’t happen, the Vance family’s reputation would be toast. The ceremony was supposed to have started an hour ago. Chloe, completely unfazed, was already taking off her makeup. Everyone was talking at once, trying to reason with her. “This merger has been in the works for months! Why back out now?” “You can’t just call it off! What about our family’s company, the Jennings Corporation?” “Leo Vance holds a grudge. He’ll ruin you!” “Think about the family, Chloe! Not just yourself!” “Chloe Jennings, aren’t you scared?” My sister just scoffed and rolled her eyes, continuing to wipe off her foundation with a vengeance. I was in awe. That was my sister, alright. If it were me, the family coward, I’d have just nodded meekly and walked down the aisle. Speaking of which… was that makeup remover irritating her skin? Her face was getting all red. I should probably run to CVS and get her something better. The moment I stood up, my dad’s desperate gaze landed on me. “If you won’t marry him, are we supposed to send your space-cadet sister out there?” Chloe stopped cold. She stood up, her perfectly sculpted brows knitted together, hands on her hips. “Who are you calling a space cadet? My sister is more than good enough for him! Claire!” I flinched. “Here!” “Marry him!” “What? Me?” The room went silent for a second. It was like they all suddenly realized that my sister and I were identical twins, with faces about 80% the same. It was their life raft. They practically ripped the Vera Wang gown off Chloe and stuffed me into it. A frantic five-minute makeup job later, I was pushed onto the stage. 2 My brain basically blue-screened. I stood at the entrance, clinging to my dad’s arm, the officiant’s words turning into meaningless noise. Then I saw Leo. His eyes lit up, and the first genuine smile of the evening spread across his face. A collective sigh of relief went through the crowd. The officiant, bless his heart, stumbled through the rest of the ceremony. Leo took my hand from my father’s, his lips curling into a smirk. During the ring exchange, he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand with an almost religious fervor. I snatched my hand back like I’d been burned. This was so, so weird. I was a walking, talking mannequin for the rest of the wedding. Finally, I was bundled into Leo’s car, headed for our new home. I sat there, stiff as a board, my sister’s promise echoing in my head: Don’t worry, Claire-bear, I’ll come rescue you. Would she, though? I wondered, feeling small, pathetic, and utterly helpless. The man beside me shifted, moving a little closer. I jumped, sitting ramrod straight. Leo chuckled. “You seem terrified of me.” Well, duh. The guy had a reputation. Ruthless, unpredictable, mercurial… that’s why our family sent Chloe, the firecracker, to handle the “merger.” Chloe and I were twins, born ten minutes apart, but it felt like she’d absorbed all the guts and brains in the womb, leaving me with… well, me. She was always the one leading the charge while I cheered from the sidelines. Chloe wouldn’t be afraid of Leo Vance. “Hmm?” The low hum from his throat pulled me back. He was leaning in, his face unnervingly close. I could smell the faint, expensive scent of his cologne. I snapped back to reality, my eyes meeting his. I almost scrambled onto the roof of the car. “Uh, Mr. Vance… you’re a little too close.” 3 Leo’s brow furrowed. He swiped his tongue across the inside of his cheek, the smile vanishing from his eyes. “You don’t have to call me Mr. Vance. You’re the one I’m married to now.” I blinked. There was an edge to his voice, something I couldn’t quite place. The rumor was that Leo had seen a picture of my sister and fallen for her instantly, agreeing to the business marriage on the spot. But somehow, in the month leading up to the wedding, they’d never actually met in person. Today was the first time. Obviously, Chloe wasn’t impressed, hence the great escape. She’d caused him a massive public humiliation. He probably couldn’t stand hearing anything related to her right now. Remembering his reputation, I figured it was best for Chloe’s sake if I just played along. I lowered my eyes. “Okay.” “So what should you call me?” he coaxed, his deep brown eyes fixed on me. “Huh?” I looked up, meeting his teasing, almost intimate gaze, and my mind went totally blank. What else was I supposed to call him? I blinked a couple of times, then ventured, “Leo?” He stared at me for a solid two seconds before letting out a short, humorless laugh. He leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes and lacing his fingers over his lap. Since he didn’t say anything, I took it as a yes. The drive to our new penthouse was long. I stared out the window, but I couldn’t ignore the heat radiating from the man beside me. I decided to just endure it, pressing myself so hard against the car door I was practically fused to it. I don’t know when Leo opened his eyes or how long he’d been watching me. All I knew was that I got this prickly feeling on the back of my neck, and when I turned to find the source, his eyes were locked on mine. “Claire Jennings,” he said. “Yes, Mr. Vance.” He took a deep, slow breath, like he was steeling himself for something. “Don’t call me Mr. Vance. We’re married. Do you know how to say the word ‘husband’?” “Yes.” “Say it for me.” “Excuse me?” 4 Why did he want me to say that? I frowned, instinctively reaching for my phone. “Hang on, let me ask my sister.” Leo’s face went blank. I ignored him, my thumbs flying across the screen. Me: Chloe, he wants me to call him ‘husband’. She replied instantly. Chloe: In his dreams! Don’t you dare, Claire-bear. Don’t let him push you around. If he tries anything weird, you call me! Me: Okay! With my sister’s blessing, I felt a surge of confidence. I put my phone away and met Leo’s expectant, encouraging gaze. I opened my mouth, hesitated, and then slowly said, “Mr. Vance.” The light in Leo’s eyes died. He laughed again, but this time it sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth. “Your sister told you not to?” I just hummed noncommittally and turned to look out the window. I saw him clench his fists in his lap out of the corner of my eye. The temperature in the car dropped about twenty degrees. After a moment, he took a deep, angry sigh and pulled out his own phone. Two minutes later, my phone buzzed. It was Chloe. Chloe: You know, sweetie, a marriage is your own thing. I can’t really interfere. You do you, boo. Smooches! “What?” I looked from my phone to Leo, then back again. Something was fishy. Given his reputation, a lightbulb went off in my head. You bastard. You threatened my sister! Leo leaned in again, a triumphant glint in his eye. “Ready to try again?” No way. I had to protect my sister. My newfound courage rose up… and then immediately fizzled out. It wasn’t that I was scared of him; I was scared of what he’d do to Chloe. I looked down. “Can we maybe… not do that right now?” I mumbled. Leo actually laughed, a real laugh this time. He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely defeated. “Fine. But no more ‘Mr. Vance.’ Call me by my name if you have to.” I nodded. “Okay, Mr. Vance.” Oops. I slapped a hand over my mouth, glancing at him guiltily. Our eyes met. He looked completely and utterly hopeless. 5 We finally arrived at the penthouse. I remembered scouting this place out. Chloe was too busy with the company, and our dear “groom-to-be” said he’d be happy with whatever his bride wanted. So they sent me, the unemployed freeloader, to pick out the marital home. And now, here I was, living in it. I sighed quietly, got myself ready, and burrowed under the covers. Weddings are exhausting. I was out the second my head hit the pillow. Or so I thought. Just as I was drifting off, the mattress dipped beside me. The comforter was yanked away, and a blast of cold air hit my skin. I blinked my eyes open just in time to see Leo sliding into bed next to me. My brain stalled. Our bodies were inches apart under the sheets. I could feel the heat rolling off him. I didn’t dare move. I didn’t even dare breathe too loudly. I just lay there, hands folded primly on my stomach, staring at the ceiling. My lips moved. “Mr. Vance.” No reply. Then I remembered his rule from the car. I struggled internally for a few seconds until my leg went numb. Swallowing hard, I tried again. “L-Leo.” “What?” Thank god. He was talking to me. I kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Could you maybe sleep in another room?” “No.” His refusal was instant and absolute. I picked at a loose thread on the sheet. “Why not?” “We’re married. Married people sleep in the same room.” He had a point. I couldn’t think of a comeback. I swallowed my pride. “Okay… then could you get another comforter? I can’t sleep sharing one.” Only Chloe gets to share my bed. Not her angry husband! A soft chuckle came from beside me. I whipped my head around to see Leo looking at me, his eyes full of amusement. He was propped up on his elbow, looking down at me. “Say ‘husband’ and I’ll go get it.” “Seriously?” We just went over this! Are you trying to bully me, Leo Vance? I must have looked as indignant as I felt, because his smile widened. He sat up, ruffled my hair, and then swung his legs out of bed. He went to the linen closet and came back with another comforter. He even pulled our pillows further apart, creating a respectable no-man’s-land down the middle of the king-sized bed. A veritable River Styx. “Go to sleep,” he said softly, turning his back to me. The room fell silent again. I smoothed down the hair his big, warm hand had just touched. Was this one of the “weird things” Chloe was talking about? … continued in the next response.

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After making a birthday cake for my son while burning up with a fever, I overheard him whispering with my husband. “Dad, when can we go live with Auntie Liu Yan? I don’t want to call this woman ‘Mom’ anymore.” My husband, Chen Chen, soothed him in a low voice. “Patience, son. We just have to cooperate with her mission to win us over. Once she gets her reward, we can convince her to use it to cure Yan-yan.” “In return,” he added, “I’ll let her keep her status as Mrs. Chen. But she can forget about anything else.” I let out a silent sigh of relief. The mission was finally ending. I could go home to my real husband and my daughter. 1. I am a Player, trapped in this world for three full years. My only way out is to perfectly perform the role of the “perfect wife,” raising the Affinity levels of my targets, Chen Chen and his son Chen An, to 100%. Today was the closest I had ever been to going home. The frosting on the cake was piped into flawless roses. I looked at my reflection in a nearby mirror—my face flushed from the fever—and pulled my lips into a gentle smile. Perfect. The very image of a doting mother. Outside the door, Chen Chen was still coaching his son. “An-an, just endure it a little longer. As soon as we get the reward, Dad will let you be with your Auntie Liu Yan forever.” “But Dad, I really don’t want to smile at this woman anymore. Her cooking is awful.” Chen Chen’s voice was dripping with calculation. “Dad knows. That’s why we have to be quick. Go on. Do what I taught you. Tell her you love her. You’re the star today, your words will have the most impact.” I held the cake, and the moment the door was pushed open, I erased every trace of my true feelings. Chen An ran to me like a little cannonball, hugging my legs and tilting his head up, his big eyes shining with “sincerity.” “Mom! You worked so hard! I love you! This is the best birthday gift I’ve ever received!” A cold, mechanical voice sounded in my mind. [Target Chen An, Affinity +1%. Current Mission Progress: 96%.] I bent down and stroked his head, my voice the gentle tone I had practiced thousands of times. “Silly boy, Mommy loves you too.” Chen Chen walked over and hugged me from behind, resting his chin lightly in the crook of my neck in an intimate pose. “Honey, you must be exhausted. You’re still sick. Please go rest as soon as this is done.” The warmth of his breath made my skin crawl. [Target Chen Chen, Affinity +1%. Current Mission Progress: 97%.] Good. Almost there. I leaned back into his arms, a genuine smile flashing in my eyes for a split second. “I’m not tired. Anything for our An-an is worth it.” A picture-perfect, happy family. We sang the birthday song, the candles were blown out. Chen An closed his eyes to make a wish, his little face a mask of devotion. I knew what he was wishing for. For his dear Auntie Liu Yan to have a speedy recovery. As I was cutting the cake, Chen Chen mentioned, as if by chance, “Speaking of which, an old classmate of mine has been really sick, stuck in the hospital. I wonder how she’s doing.” My hand paused. I passed the largest slice to Chen An. “Oh really? That’s a shame. What kind of illness?” Chen Chen sighed, a perfect shade of sorrow coloring his handsome features. “It seems to be a rare blood disease. The doctors said it’s very difficult to treat, unless there’s a miracle.” As he spoke, he stared intently into my eyes, searching for a reaction. I looked back at him with sympathy. “Honey, don’t be too sad. Medicine is so advanced these days, there will be a way.” He looked a little disappointed and averted his gaze. “Let’s hope so.” 2. The next day, my fever had just subsided when Chen Chen suggested a “family day” at a country park. The excuse was to continue Chen An’s birthday celebration and for me to get some fresh air. Naturally, I wouldn’t refuse. This was the final sprint. I even applied makeup carefully, choosing a gentle, cream-colored dress, and let my long hair fall over my shoulders. I looked the very picture of a serene, perfect wife. Chen Chen was very pleased with my cooperation. Along the way, he kept creating opportunities to increase our “warm family interactions.” One moment he’d ask me to feed him a piece of fruit, the next he’d hold Chen An and have me take a photo of them. “Honey, smile a little sweeter.” “Mom, Dad says this is how we look like a real family.” I dutifully played my part, smiling for the camera more blissfully than anyone. [Target Chen Chen, Affinity +1%.] [Target Chen An, Affinity +1%.] [Current Mission Progress: 99%.] The progress bar moved forward, slowly but surely. During lunch, Chen Chen suddenly took out his phone, swiped to a photo, and held it in front of me. The woman in the picture was lying in a hospital bed, her face pale and gaunt, but you could still see her delicate beauty underneath. It was Liu Yan. “Honey, look. This is my sick classmate. Pitiful, isn’t she?” Chen Chen’s tone was probing. I leaned in, studying the photo with a slight frown. “She is. So young, too. Honey, is there anything we can do for her? Like, a donation?” I was exhibiting the exact reaction a kind-hearted wife should. A flicker of impatience crossed Chen Chen’s eyes, but he quickly hid it. He put away his phone and took my hand. “It’s the thought that counts. Besides… there’s not much ordinary people like us can do to help.” His words were loaded with hidden meaning. Just then, Chen An, who had been eating quietly, suddenly spoke up. “Dad, I wish Auntie Liu Yan could come play with us too.” His words were clear, his eyes locked on me. The air instantly grew still. Chen Chen immediately reprimanded him. “An-an, don’t talk nonsense! That is Auntie Liu Yan!” Chen An burst into tears with a “Waaah,” the waterworks turning on instantly. “I don’t care! I want Auntie Liu Yan! I hate you!” he shrieked, pointing at me. This was their pre-planned drama. One played the good cop, the other the bad cop, attempting to use a child’s “innocence” to break down my psychological defenses. I watched this clumsy performance. I stood up, walked over to Chen An, and knelt down, gently wiping away his tears with a tissue. “An-an, don’t cry. Mommy knows you feel sorry for Auntie Liu Yan.” My voice was calm and gentle. “Once your Auntie Liu Yan is better, we’ll invite her to our house as a guest, okay?” Chen An’s crying hitched. He stared at me, stunned. Chen Chen was stunned too. The argument, the breakdown, the accusations they had anticipated—none of it occurred. I had made their entire scheme fall flat. [Warning: Target’s emotional state is experiencing severe fluctuations.] [Current Mission Progress: 98%.] It actually dropped. It seems I overplayed my part, and it had the opposite effect. 3. After we got home, the atmosphere was ice-cold. Chen Chen’s face was grim, and Chen An hid in his room, refusing to even come out for dinner. I prepared the meal as usual, brought the dishes to the table, and then knocked on Chen An’s door. “An-an, time for dinner. Mommy made your favorite sweet and sour ribs.” A muffled “Don’t want any” came from inside. I didn’t press further and returned to the dining room. Chen Chen was sitting at the head of the table, not having touched his food. Seeing me, he spoke, his face dark. “Su He, weren’t you a bit too much today? An-an is just a child. He just speaks his mind.” I lowered my gaze, my voice tinged with a hint of grievance and restraint. “Honey, I’m not blaming An-an. I know he’s a kind boy. I just… I didn’t know how to face it.” “What do you mean?” I lifted my head, my eyes red-rimmed as I squeezed out a few perfect tears. “You showed me Miss Liu’s photo, and then An-an started crying for her. I felt… I felt like an outsider.” “I thought we were a family, but it seems like both of your hearts are somewhere else.” Those words struck Chen Chen’s weak spot. What he needed most was for me, his “perfect wife,” to unconditionally tolerate everything about him, including his “sympathy” for Liu Yan. My “jealousy” and “hurt feelings” made the situation feel more real to him, solidifying his sense of control. His expression softened. He stood up, walked to my side, and pulled me into his arms. “Silly girl, what are you thinking? Liu Yan and I are just old classmates. I just feel sorry for her.” “An-an is just a kid who doesn’t know any better. He only says her name so much because he hears me talk about her,” he said, patting my back in his practiced, coaxing manner. “You and An-an are my family. Always.” [Target Chen Chen, Affinity +1%. Current Mission Progress: 99%.] Just one last point. I leaned against him, burying my face in his chest, my voice muffled. “Honey, don’t mention her in front of me anymore. And don’t let An-an mention her either. It makes my heart ache.” “Okay, okay. Whatever you say,” he promised readily, dismissing it as a woman’s petty jealousy. The next day, Chen An, likely after a talking-to from his father, came to my bedroom door early in the morning. He rubbed his eyes, looking like a sleepy kitten. “Mom, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that yesterday.” I knelt down to be at his eye level. “Mommy isn’t angry with you.” A flicker of confusion crossed his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe I’d forgiven him so easily. “Really?” “Of course.” I straightened his messy hair. “Mommy knows An-an is a kind boy who feels sorry for a sick auntie. But you also need to know that Mommy can get her feelings hurt.” I was walking a fine line, displaying “magnanimity” while also establishing my “boundaries.” Chen An lowered his head and said softly, “I understand, Mom.” He reached out his small hands, hugged my neck, and planted a loud kiss on my cheek. “Mommy is the best mommy in the world. I love you the most.” The cold, mechanical voice exploded in my head. [Target Chen An, Affinity +1%. Current Mission Progress: 100%.] [MISSION COMPLETE.] I maintained the gentle smile on my face, but inside, a storm was raging. Three years. For more than a thousand days and nights, I had finally reached this moment. 4. [Finalizing Mission Score…] [Malicious deception from targets detected. Severe violation of Player Protocol.] [Reward distribution suspended.] The smile on my face froze solid. Chen Chen happened to be coming out of his study. Seeing the affectionate scene between me and Chen An, a satisfied smile spread across his face. “Is An-an being sweet to Mommy again?” He walked over, intending to hug me as he always did. But as he approached, I instinctively took a step back. He froze. My mind was reeling with the System’s cold words. Malicious deception? Reward suspended? What did this mean? [Penalty Mission Issued: Perfect Revenge.] [Objective: Enact revenge upon targets Chen Chen and Chen An until their Misery Index reaches 100%.] [Mission Success: Player may return to home world, mission reward will be doubled.] [Mission Failure: Player’s psyche will be assimilated by this world, resulting in permanent entrapment.] So, this game had hidden rules. So, their deception came with a price. And I was to be the executioner. I looked at the two bewildered “family members” before me and suddenly smiled. This time, it was from the heart. Chen Chen was caught completely off guard by my reaction. “Honey, what’s wrong?” He reached out a hand, as if to feel my forehead. I stared at him, the smile on my lips growing wider and wider until it broke into laughter. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I’ve never been better.” Chen Chen’s brow furrowed tightly. Chen An was scared, hiding behind his father and peeking out with timid eyes. “Mommy… don’t laugh. I’m scared.” I stopped laughing and turned my gaze to him, my eyes ice-cold. “Scared? But I thought you loved Mommy the most.” I advanced on them, step by step. Chen Chen shielded Chen An behind him, his face filled with alarm. “Su He, what is wrong with you? Don’t frighten the child!” I stopped in front of them, tilted my head, and put my gentle smile back on. “You’re right, honey. We’re a family. We should always be together.” “Us… and Miss Liu Yan. We should be a family too.” Chen Chen’s pupils contracted. “What did you say?” “I said,” I enunciated each word, my voice clear and sweet, “we should invite Miss Liu Yan to come live with us. That way, you and An-an won’t have to miss her so much.” “Are you insane?!” Chen Chen cried out. “I’m not insane.” I blinked innocently. “I’m just being truly considerate. Look at you, so worried about her you can’t eat or sleep. You’ve gotten so thin. And An-an, he’s always talking about his Auntie Liu Yan.” “As your wife, it is, of course, my duty to share your burdens.” I turned and walked briskly towards the closet. “I’ll go pack your things right now. You can move into the hospital to be with her today.” “When you love someone, you have to be by their side, don’t you?” Chen Chen was completely stunned. He rushed over and grabbed my wrist. “Su He! Have you had enough of this?!” His eyes were blazing with fury. I winced in pain but continued to smile at him. “Honey, you’re hurting me. You love me the most, don’t you? How could you bear to hurt me?” I threw the sweet nothings he used to say to me right back in his face. His hand recoiled as if burned. I rubbed my reddened wrist, dragged his suitcase out of the closet, and began packing his clothes one by one. Shirts, slacks, ties… all his favorite brands. “I picked all of these for you. You’ll look so handsome when you go see her. She’ll be so happy. The sight of you might make her feel better instantly.” Chen Chen stood frozen, his face ashen, his chest heaving. He must have been wondering if I had truly lost my mind. An hour later, I had several packed suitcases sitting by the front door. Then, I called Chen Chen’s driver. “Mr. Wang, could you please come to the house? Mr. Chen needs to stay at the hospital for a while, and he has a lot of things.” After hanging up, I looked at the petrified father and son in the living room and smiled graciously. “Honey, the car will be here soon. I’ll see you out.” Chen Chen couldn’t utter a single word. All of his plans had been thrown into chaos by my sudden “madness.” He wanted a perfect wife he could control, not a lunatic who was packing him up and shipping him off to his lover. The driver arrived quickly. I personally carried each suitcase to the car, then turned and waved at Chen Chen. “Go on now. Don’t keep Miss Liu Yan waiting. The house is safe with me. You can rest assured.” I practically pushed him into the car. It wasn’t until the vehicle was far down the road that he seemed to snap out of it, frantically rolling down the window to roar back at me. “Su He! You just wait!” [Target Chen Chen, Misery Index +10%.] 5. After sending Chen Chen off, I closed the door. Only Chen An and I were left in the living room. He was huddled in a corner of the sofa, his small body curled into a ball, looking at me as if I were a stranger. I walked over and sat down beside him. “An-an, now it’s just the two of us at home.” He didn’t speak, just scooted away, trying to distance himself from me. I reached out and scooped him into my arms. He struggled, but he was no match for my strength. “Mommy…” His voice was choked with sobs. “An-an, do you miss your Auntie Liu Yan too?” I asked softly. He froze for a second, then shook his head frantically. “No, I don’t.” “Lying is not what good boys do.” I stroked his back with a gentle motion. “It’s okay, Mommy understands. From now on, Mommy will take you to see her every single day, okay?” Chen An’s body went rigid. He looked up at me, his big eyes filled with terror. “No… I don’t want to go!” “Why not?” I feigned confusion. “Don’t you love her very much? Wasn’t your birthday wish for her to get better quickly? Mommy is just helping your wish come true.” His lips trembled, unable to form a single word. Fear had seized the six-year-old child. [Target Chen An, Misery Index +20%.] I held him, softly humming a lullaby, just as I had on countless nights before. Only this time, my voice was completely devoid of warmth. Chen Chen couldn’t stand being at the hospital. He came back that very same night, seething with rage. Clearly, things with Liu Yan hadn’t gone well for him either. A patient needs money and hope, not a burdensome husband who’d been kicked out by his wife. “Su He!” he roared the moment he entered the house. I was in the living room with Chen An, building with Legos. Hearing him, I looked up and smiled. “Honey, you’re back? Was Miss Liu Yan’s hospital room comfortable?” He stormed over and swept the Lego model off the table with one violent motion. The blocks scattered across the floor. Chen An screamed and hid behind me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Chen Chen’s eyes were bloodshot. I held Chen An protectively, the smile never leaving my face. “Honey, why are you so angry? Look, you’re scaring An-an.” “You have the nerve to mention An-an? Look at yourself right now! Are you sick? I’m taking you to a doctor!” he shouted, lunging for me. I dodged him nimbly, keeping Chen An behind me. “I’m not sick,” I said calmly, looking at him. “I’ve just figured things out.” “I’ve figured out that since I love you, I should love what you love. You love Liu Yan, so I should love her too. We should be like a family, without any divisions between us.” This twisted logic made Chen Chen’s fists clench until the knuckles cracked. He probably never imagined that one day he would be unable to reason with a woman. “Su He, I am ordering you to stop this insane behavior immediately!” “Insane?” I asked. “But honey, have you forgotten? It was you and An-an who taught me, bit by bit, what ‘love’ truly is.” It was they who taught me that “love” was calculation, exploitation, and a disingenuous performance. Now, I was simply putting their lessons into practice. Chen Chen was so angry he was speechless. [Target Chen Chen, Misery Index +15%.] He pointed at me, his finger trembling. “You’re irrational!” He stormed into his study and slammed the door shut.

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College had barely started when my new roommate, Jenna, announced she was going to cook in our dorm room to save cash. I was about to talk her out of it when the pop-ups appeared. 【DON’T, HAILEY. She’ll blame you for starving her and drag your name through the mud in the freshman group chat.】 【She’ll rally every student on financial aid, claim you look down on poor people, and get you socially canceled.】 【Later, you’ll give in. She’ll start a fire with her illegal hot plate, then lock the door on her way out, leaving you to burn to death.】 A chill shot down my spine. I immediately started packing a bag to go see the Resident Director about a room transfer. 1 When I blinked, the strange, transparent comments faded from the air. In front of me, Jenna was still pleading her case, her voice a little too whiny. “My family’s broke, Hailey. They scraped together every penny just to get me here.” “My parents are simple, blue-collar folks. I can’t keep asking them for money.” “If I cook for myself, I can save a ton. Plus, I’ll have more time for my online side-hustle instead of running to the dining hall.” She gestured around the room. “Besides, you guys probably have crazy schedules. I eat like clockwork. If you’re ever hungry, you can grab a bite with me.” “I won’t even charge you, I promise. C’mon, be a good roomie, please?” She was asking, but her cooking gear—a sketchy-looking hot plate and a collection of mismatched pots—was already spread all over the floor. She was also on a video call, clearly broadcasting this whole negotiation. It was a hostage situation, and I was the hostage. I was in a tough spot. Because of some weird housing lottery fluke, our four-person suite only had three of us. Our third roommate, Brianna, had some medical issues and was deferring her arrival for a couple of months. Over the call, Brianna, who just wanted a quiet place to recover, barely registered the conversation and just said “Sure, whatever,” before hanging up. That left me as Jenna’s sole target. Just then, the pop-ups flickered back into existence above her head. 「Poor Hailey. First week of college and she gets a roommate from hell.」 「Seriously, she needs to run. Whether you say yes or no, this type of person will pin any problem on you and drag you down with them.」 「It’s so tragic. In the original timeline, you almost escaped the fire. But Jenna ran back, not to help, but to lock the door so you couldn’t snitch.」 My blood ran cold. Jenna was that vicious? 2 I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. Under Jenna’s expectant gaze, I started cautiously. “Jenna, it’s not that I don’t want you to cook… it’s just, the housing agreement explicitly forbids high-wattage appliances. That hot plate…” I trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air. The thing looked like it was from the 90s, caked with years of grime. I was half-convinced it would explode the second she plugged it in. But I couldn’t just say that. Jenna, thinking she was winning, puffed out her chest. “Don’t worry! If anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility. It’ll have nothing to do with you, I swear!” I still pretended to be hesitant. “Even if the RA doesn’t do a room check, what if there’s a fire…?” “Oh, is that what you’re worried about?” Jenna visibly relaxed. “I’ll go to Target tomorrow and buy a couple of fire extinguishers for the room. See? Problem solved.” “But…” Seeing me still on the fence, a flicker of annoyance crossed her face, but she quickly masked it, throwing her arms around my shoulder. “C’mon, Hailey. Just say yes.” “…Alright, fine,” I sighed, as if worn down by her persistence. “But you remember what you said. If there’s any trouble, it’s on you.” “Of course, of course!” With Jenna appeased, I grabbed my phone and walked out of the room. Only after the door clicked shut did I look at the pop-ups, which were going ballistic. 「Hailey, you can’t be this naive! Her verbal promise is worthless.」 「It won’t be long before her cooking trips the circuit breaker for the whole floor. You’ll be home for the weekend, and she’ll stash the hot plate in your closet to frame you.」 「You get written up for that. When you try to explain, she’ll play the victim card about being poor.」 Honestly, I didn’t doubt them for a second. My old self probably would have caved to her sob story and taken the fall. But this time… 3 I glanced down at my phone. The recording app was still running. I had every single one of Jenna’s promises on tape. There was no way she could pin this on me now. With the Jenna situation temporarily handled, I didn’t waste a second. I headed straight for the Housing Office. No matter what, getting away from a person like that was the top priority. “You want to switch rooms?” The Housing Coordinator, Ms. Davis, looked at me with a pained expression. “Hailey, you know we’re over-enrolled this year. Every bed is taken. I pulled a lot of strings to get you this suite.” Ms. Davis was the daughter of my mom’s college friend. She had intentionally placed me in a less-crowded suite to give me a better freshman experience. Neither of us could have predicted a roommate like Jenna. “I know, and I appreciate it. But I can’t stay there. It’s… a really bad fit.” I chose my words carefully. I couldn’t tell her the whole truth. If Jenna found out I’d gone behind her back, she’d make my life a living hell. Seeing my determination, Ms. Davis sighed and handed me a form. “Fill this out, and I’ll submit it. But I can’t make any promises. Even if it’s approved, with the way things work around here, it could take a month, minimum.” I nodded. A month. I could live with that. I’d just have to make myself scarce. I asked Ms. Davis to keep my request confidential. Back at the dorm, Jenna had already launched her culinary enterprise. For the first few days, it wasn’t so bad—just ramen or some simple soup. The smell was contained. It made me wonder if I was overreacting, if I was trusting these weird pop-ups too much. So, I started spending a bit more time in the room during the day instead of staying out until late. Until one afternoon, as I was walking back to my building, a girl stopped me. “Are you from room 2632?” 4 Our building was #2, sixth floor, room 32. 2632. My stomach dropped. I had a very bad feeling. Before I could ask, the girl rolled her eyes and walked away, muttering under her breath. “Unbelievable. This is a university, not a damn food truck. If you’re gonna be a line cook, do it somewhere else. No wonder she’s broke.” I couldn’t judge the girl without knowing the full story. But my gut told me this had everything to do with Jenna. “Jenna, what are you doing?” Sure enough, as I hit the sixth-floor landing, I was assaulted by the thick, choking smell of burnt chili. It was so strong my eyes started watering. Covering my mouth, I ran to our door, expecting to find our room filled with smoke. But inside, it was surprisingly clear. The air was fresh. A group of strangers was sitting around Jenna’s hot plate, laughing and eating. When I walked in, Jenna’s face flashed with guilt. “Oh, Hailey! You’re back.” She grabbed a disposable bowl. “Here, have some! It’s on the house.” I opened my mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but Jenna was frantically shaking her head and widening her eyes, silently begging me not to make a scene. I scanned the room and decided to wait until her “customers” left. I shut my mouth and walked towards the door to turn off the fan. My fan. It was positioned to blow all the fumes out into the hallway. I had to get it back; I’d overheard someone downstairs saying they were getting the RA. If my fan was part of the evidence, I’d be implicated. But as I reached for it, one of the girls—the one with a sharp bob—snapped at me. “Who are you? You can’t just waltz in here, get free food, and turn off our fan.” Her comment set off a chain reaction. The whole group started grumbling. One of the guys turned on Jenna. “Hey, Jenna, we all chipped in for this. If you’re bringing in extra people, you owe us a refund.” Forgetting about me, Jenna rushed to placate them. “No, no, this is my roommate! Don’t worry, she’s eating too, so she’ll definitely cover today’s meal for everyone.” She turned to me, her eyes pleading. “Right, Hailey?” 5 My head was spinning. Since when was I eating, let alone paying? “Hailey, please,” Jenna whispered, pulling me aside. “These are my first real customers. Just let me make a little money, okay?” There it was again. The guilt trip. As if on cue, the pop-ups returned, more frantic than ever. 「Jenna is shameless. Using Hailey’s fan, their shared electricity, and probably Hailey’s water, too. All she provides is the pot, and she pockets all the cash.」 「Don’t give in, Hailey! If you back down now, the next time you try to stop her, she’ll say you’re jealous of a poor student trying to get by.」 「Yeah, and to keep their cheap meals coming, they’ll all team up to bully you out of the room. They’ll spread rumors about you on the campus gossip app.」 「You’ll be forced to move out and rent an expensive off-campus apartment.」 Reading those comments, a light bulb went off in my head. I was struggling to find a legitimate reason to get my room change approved. Now, they were handing one to me on a silver platter. I cleared my throat and looked at the girl who’d spoken up first. “Oh, you’re all here for Jenna’s… food, right? My bad, total misunderstanding.” I plastered on a fake smile. “You guys go ahead and eat. Just be careful with my stuff, okay? It’s all pretty expensive, so please don’t touch anything.” The people who came to Jenna for cheap food were, by definition, on a tight budget. My comment hit them like a slap in the face. They were instantly furious. 6 “What’s that supposed to mean?” the girl with the bob shot back. “Just because we’re on financial aid, you think we’re thieves? How dare you insult us like that!” Yep. Birds of a feather. They were just like Jenna. Ignoring her, I turned and headed for the door. Jenna was trying to calm everyone down, but not before shooting me a venomous glare. “Hailey, how could you say that? We might be poor, but we have dignity!” she hissed. “You’ve really disappointed me.” In a few short sentences, she’d successfully painted me as a snobby, toxic rich girl. But now wasn’t the time to argue. Just before leaving, I paused in the doorway and added, helpfully, “By the way, I saw the RA heading this way with a couple of people. If you don’t want to get written up, you should probably pack this all up. Like, right now.” “What? Why didn’t you say so sooner?!” Jenna’s face went pale. Forgetting her customers’ hurt feelings, she and the group scrambled to hide the evidence. I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile. As I rounded the corner of the stairwell and saw the RA approaching, I knew the show was about to begin. 7 Jenna got caught. So did her entire dinner club. A few academic advisors got involved, but their hands were tied. These were all scholarship students, and unless they committed a major offense, the university couldn’t punish them too harshly. That night, when I got back to the room, Jenna confronted me. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you, Hailey?” I played dumb. “Did what?” “You knew the RA was coming. You stalled and wasted our time so we’d get caught. You enjoyed watching that, didn’t you?” “Jenna, I was trying to help you. How could you accuse me of something like that?” I managed to sound genuinely hurt, though inside I was ecstatic. “I was out all day, how was I supposed to know you were running a restaurant in here? If you’d given me a heads-up, I could have been a lookout for you.” My performance must have been convincing, because her expression softened slightly. “Really?” she asked, still suspicious. “Really.” I pouted. “Besides, I haven’t even complained to you yet. You guys made all my clean clothes smell like chili. I’m going to have to get them all dry-cleaned. Maybe you should ask your friends from today to chip in for the bill?” “You should have put your clothes away! Don’t you dare try to scam me with your designer labels. I’m a scholarship kid, I don’t have that kind of money!” Just like that, her brief moment of calm vanished. “You’re such a jinx!” she spat. “I’ve been doing this for a week, and nothing went wrong until the day you decided to come back early!” I pretended to be angry, too. “I never asked you for money! But if my being here is such an inconvenience, why don’t you just move in with one of them?” With that, I drew the curtain around my bed. “I’m going to sleep.” The pop-ups appeared again, this time almost cheering. 「Don’t be mad, Hailey, don’t be mad!」 「Yeah! If Jenna’s friends move in here, you might actually avoid the fire!」 I was faking my anger, but inside, I was celebrating. When a pop-up confirmed that Jenna was already messaging her friends about a potential room swap, I was too excited to sleep.

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