Rich Blackwood’s younger brother was filming a reality dating show at the family estate. And as it turned out, Rich and I became the unwitting control group for this celebrity couple. At first, the internet mocked me. I was just the wallpaper wife, the bland backdrop to a glittering romance. My husband was distant, my mother-in-law impossible. But then… the comments started to change. Netizens began tagging the show’s producers: [@Showrunners We’re here for Rich and his wife! A million of us are begging you, give them more screen time!] [I live for squinting at the corners of the screen, just to catch a crumb of their sweetness!] [My blood sugar is crashing. I need a dose of the main couple, stat!] 1 Leo Blackwood’s love life was a whirlwind romance, the kind that lit up the gossip columns and trended on social media every other day. His girlfriend was Seraphina Vance, one of the most celebrated actresses of her generation. The infamous playboy was finally settling down. He’d spent a month wearing down his older brother, Rich, until he finally relented and agreed to let them film their new reality show at the historic Blackwood estate. Rich didn’t bother telling me until a week before the cameras were due to arrive. “It’s just for a few segments,” he said, his voice even. “If you don’t want to be on camera, we can move out for the duration of the shoot.” I was sprawled lazily across our bed, the smooth curve of my shoulder and neck a pale glimmer against the cascade of my dark hair. “Forget it,” I murmured. “Too much effort to move.” I’d been married to Rich for three years, and the estate had become my home. The thought of packing up and relocating, even temporarily, was exhausting. 2 The day filming began, I drifted downstairs in a sleepy haze, my eyes still heavy with sleep. Rich had already instructed the crew not to film me without permission. The ground floor was already buzzing with activity. Seraphina stood in the center of it all, a queen holding court, flanked by an entourage. She was already playing the part of the lady of the manor. She caught sight of me descending the grand staircase and, with a flourish of warmth, called out to the housekeeper. “Mrs. Gable, could you please prepare breakfast for my sister-in-law as well?” Mrs. Gable hesitated, her eyes flicking to me for confirmation. I let out a soft yawn and gave a slight nod. Only then did she signal to the kitchen staff. Leo, already at the dining table, greeted me with a cheerful, “Morning, Nora.” I blinked slowly, my mind still foggy. “Morning.” “Rich already left for the office?” he asked. “Hm? I guess so,” I replied, the uncertainty clear in my voice. After all, the man rose with the sun. Even a night of passionate reunion after a week apart couldn’t disrupt his clockwork precision. But that was Rich Blackwood for you. As the heir to the Blackwood fortune, he was the embodiment of discipline and self-control, forged from a lifetime of expectation. He never allowed himself to lose his composure. Even our intimacy was governed by a quiet, unspoken schedule. While I waited for my food, Seraphina suddenly glided over and sat beside me, looping her arm through mine with a practiced smile aimed at a nearby camera. “This is Nora’s first time on camera, so she might be a little shy,” she cooed to her audience. “I hope all my wonderful fans will be gentle with her!” She turned to me, her smile unwavering. “Don’t be nervous, Nora. My fans are the sweetest people.” And just like that, with no makeup and a thoroughly bewildered expression, I made my television debut. Seraphina kept one eye on the live comment feed, her lips curved in a saccharine smile as she cherry-picked questions to answer. “You think Nora looks familiar? Hmm, maybe it’s because she has one of those classic, relatable faces.” “You’re asking her age? Shhh! It’s not polite to ask a lady her age, you know.” After a few more carefully selected questions, she noticed the audience’s attention was still stubbornly fixed on me. With a slight huff, she shifted back to her original seat, trying to reclaim the spotlight. The live chat, however, was still on fire. [So that’s Leo’s sister-in-law? The wife of the Blackwood Corporation’s CEO?] [She really does look familiar! And not in a ‘relatable face’ way. I swear I’ve seen her on TV before!] [Is she trying to ride Sera’s coattails to get famous?] [Sera is too kind, letting her steal the spotlight for free.] [I’m only here for Seraphina! She’s so gorgeous!!!] [Sera is living the dream. A fiancé that handsome, that rich, and he adores her!] And me? I was a million miles away. Tired. I was just so profoundly tired. Rich had just returned from a week-long business trip. The ever-so-proper man had been possessed by a feverish energy the night before, determined to make up for a week of lost time. My body was still paying the price. 3 After breakfast, Leo disappeared into the study to handle some business. This left me vulnerable, and Seraphina, ever the enthusiast, seized the opportunity. She pulled me onto the sofa to help her choose a wedding dress. She and Leo were engaged, with the wedding just around the corner. “Nora, what do you think of this one? Isn’t it divine?” I glanced from her face to the glossy pages of the bridal catalogue. “It’s beautiful.” “And this one?” Another glance. “Also beautiful.” “Nora,” she began, flipping a page with feigned casualness, “I heard you and Rich never had a wedding ceremony.” I took a loud crunch of my apple. CRUNCH. A beat later, I replied, “We didn’t.” Seraphina gasped, her hand flying to her lips in theatrical shock. “Rich wouldn’t even give you a wedding?” I shook my head, offering a simple explanation. “I was the one who didn’t want one.” Our marriage was an arrangement between two powerful families, a merger of assets, not hearts. There were no feelings involved. Before we signed the papers, he had asked me, “When would you like to have the wedding? A church or a beach ceremony?” At the time, I held no grand illusions about our union. We were strangers who knew each other only by name. The thought of standing before a priest, exchanging rings and a kiss with a man I didn’t know… it was absurd. “Let’s just skip it,” I’d said without a second thought. “It feels pointless.” I remember how he’d watched me then, his gaze deep and unreadable. After a long silence, he’d simply agreed. Whenever anyone asked, he told them it was his decision not to have a ceremony, shouldering all the gossip and judgment himself. Seraphina seemed not to have heard me, lost in her own monologue. “Every woman dreams of her perfect wedding day,” she lamented, her voice dripping with sympathy for me. “How could Rich deny you that?” Seeing her pitying look, I decided it wasn’t worth explaining further. I just stayed silent. “Leo told me he’s going to give me the wedding of the century,” she went on, her tone a delicate blend of complaint and boast. “I told him not to be so extravagant, but he insisted. He said he would never give me a single reason to regret marrying him.” She sighed dramatically. “But all of these gowns are just so exquisite. I’m completely overwhelmed with choices!” It was a performance of blissful agony, and her fans online were eating it up. [Leo spoils her so much! Seraphina is the luckiest woman alive.] [This is what I’m here for! Sera and Leo are so sweet, it’s giving me a toothache.] [Talk about a reality check. Look at Nora’s face, she’s totally sour.] [Can you blame her? Her marriage is just a business deal. I bet Rich was the one who refused to have a wedding.] “Nora, my head is spinning,” Seraphina said, pushing the catalogue towards me. “Why don’t you pick one for me?” I idly flipped through a few pages, then pointed to a design. “This one’s very elegant.” Seraphina gave it a dismissive glance. “The waistline isn’t very flattering.” She snapped the book shut. “Oh, never mind. I’ll just have Leo help me choose later. He has impeccable taste.” 4 After wedding dresses came the rings. “Nora, didn’t Rich get you a wedding ring?” Seraphina asked, her eyes fixed on my left hand. On my ring finger sat a simple, unadorned band. The sigil etched into it was strange, almost like something you’d find in a two-dollar trinket shop. “He did.” I glanced down at the ring. The day we got our marriage license, I’d found two boxes on the nightstand. One held a diamond ring so large and brilliant it was blinding. The other held this one. Rich had asked which one I preferred. While I found this one a bit ugly, the diamond was so enormous it felt impractical for daily life. Without much thought, I’d chosen the simple band. “That’s it? Did he buy it from a corner store? Haha,” she laughed, a little too loudly. “Oh, Nora, you know me, I’m always joking. Don’t take it personally.” She stuck her tongue out playfully for the camera. Then, she held up her own slender hand, showcasing the massive diamond sparkling on her middle finger—her engagement ring from Leo. She waved it around. “I told Leo not to be so extravagant. A diamond this big is just heavy, and it gets in the way. But he wouldn’t listen, he’s just so stubborn.” She sighed again, a picture of put-upon adoration. “And just the other day, he told me I have to pick a wedding ring that’s even bigger than this one.” “Nora, you have to help me choose.” “Of course,” I said. I had nothing better to do, so I started flipping through the catalogue of rings. Just then, Leo finished his work and emerged from the study. He wrapped his arms around Seraphina’s shoulders, planting a kiss on her cheek. “How’s the ring shopping going, my love?” Seraphina blushed prettily. “Nora and I were just looking.” Then, she changed the subject. “Leo, your brother is really something else. He couldn’t even be bothered to buy Nora a proper ring.” “Why don’t we buy one for her?” she suggested, her voice full of magnanimous concern. “It would be like we’re making up for Rich’s oversight.” She must have expected him to agree immediately, to praise her thoughtfulness. Instead, Leo’s eyes flicked to my hand, and a bemused smile touched his lips. “Sera, honey, you shouldn’t underestimate that ring,” he said casually. “That’s not just any piece of jewelry. That’s the Blackwood family signet, passed down through generations. It marks the matriarch of the family.” He leaned in, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “As long as she wears that ring, seeing her is the same as seeing my brother. She could walk anywhere in this city and command respect.” The words hung in the air. Seraphina’s perfect smile vanished. For the first time, she looked genuinely stunned. Her gaze snapped back to my ring, now filled with a mixture of disbelief, assessment, and a raw, unconcealed longing. I froze. This ugly little ring meant that? Why hadn’t Rich told me? I thought it was just a simple, lightweight band. That’s the only reason I’d been wearing it all this time. [WHOA. I knew that ring was special! If you look closely, that symbol on it is the Blackwood family crest!] [I thought Rich didn’t care about her, but he gave her the ultimate symbol of power!] [Don’t worry, Sera, you’ll get one too when you marry Leo.] [Probably not. There’s only one matriarch. Unless something happens to Rich and Leo takes over the family business.] [Why shouldn’t Sera get one?! Just because Leo is the younger brother, she can’t be the matriarch and wear the ring?!] [Rich is supposed to dislike Nora, right? So why would he give it to her?] [She’s his wife, and he’s the heir. Who else would he give it to, you?] The online chat exploded into a fierce debate over the ring. Seraphina was seething with jealousy, her eyes glued to my hand. It took Leo prompting her—”Sera, what’s wrong?”—for her to finally tear her gaze away. She quickly grabbed Leo and pulled him to the other end of the sofa to look at rings, far away from me. 5 That evening, I found Rich in his study. He’d come home late, but instead of being buried in work as usual, he was watching something on his tablet. A closer look revealed it was a recording of our reality show from earlier that day. “Come here,” he said, patting his lap. I went over without a word and settled onto his lap as he wrapped an arm around my waist. It was a familiar routine. Our first year of marriage had been spent as polite strangers. He was always traveling for work, and I was busy with my own career. We barely saw each other. Then came New Year’s Eve. I was at the estate with his parents, watching the televised countdown. Outside the large French windows, fireworks exploded in silent, brilliant bursts against the night sky. In the flickering light, I heard a sound from the foyer. I turned to look. It was Rich. He was standing there in a long, black overcoat, a suitcase at his feet. His mother had said he wouldn’t be back until after the holiday. With his parents watching, a strange impulse took over me. I walked over, took his coat from him, and hung it up. When I turned back, I froze. I’d surprised myself. He looked just as surprised. From that day on, something shifted. Rich’s pace slowed. He stopped living out of a suitcase. And slowly, steadily, we settled into the quiet, comfortable rhythm of married life. Now, sitting on his lap felt as natural as breathing. “You never told me this ring was so important,” I said, slipping the band off my finger. I held it up to the porcelain-white light of the lamp, squinting at the tiny, intricate crest. He’d given it to me so casually. I’d worn it just as casually. I had no idea this unassuming little thing carried so much weight. Rich took my hand, gently taking the ring from me and sliding it back onto my finger. “It was never important on its own,” he said, his eyes fixed on my hand as he toyed with my fingers. “It’s only important because it’s on yours.” 6 To show their enthusiastic support for their future daughter-in-law, Rich’s parents made a special trip back to the estate for a family dinner, despite their chaotic schedules. Faced with a house full of cameras, they were understandably a little stiff, but they did their best to act naturally. For once, Rich was home from work on time. As he was taking off his shoes in the foyer, the camera crew, ever the opportunists, pretended to pan across the room, letting the lens linger on him for a split second before darting away. It was only a second, but it was enough to send the online audience into a frenzy. [IS THAT RICH?! OH MY GOD! THE LEGEND FINALLY SHOWS HIS FACE! HE’S GORGEOUS!] [He’s just as handsome as Leo, maybe even more so with that powerful aura he has!] [Nora is living the good life. With a husband like that, who cares about a wedding? I’d marry him in a heartbeat!] That one-second glimpse of Rich sent a new wave of viewers flooding into the livestream. At the dinner table, Seraphina was the perfect prospective bride, charming and sweet, and the atmosphere was pleasant. As the conversation flowed, Rich’s mother turned her gaze to me. Noticing my constant yawning, her eyes drifted down to my stomach. “Still no news from you two?” she asked pointedly. [Here we go. The classic ‘heir-pressure’ scene in every wealthy family drama.] [You can tell his mom doesn’t like Nora. The first thing she does is ask about a baby.] [She’s so calculating. She’s probably saying it for Seraphina’s benefit, a little warning shot.] I shot a look at Rich. He was eating quietly, pretending not to have heard a thing. “Mom,” I said, a sly smile playing on my lips. “You’ll have to ask him about that.” I passed the buck squarely to him, giving him a meaningful stare. His mother’s attention shifted to her eldest son, waiting for his answer. Rich met my gaze, his expression calm. Then, he announced to the table, “We’re working on it. We’re aiming for two in three years.” Excuse me? Under the table, I reached over and pinched his thigh. It was solid muscle, hard to get a good grip. I mouthed at him silently: What the hell are you talking about? Didn’t we agree I could have kids whenever I wanted? He captured my hand under the table, his warm palm easily enveloping mine. I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. I shot him another angry glare. Rich just smiled, a faint, teasing light in his eyes, and mouthed back: Behave. His mother watched our silent, flirtatious battle, and a slow smile spread across her face. She slid a gold credit card across the table towards me. “Nora, dear, you’ve been putting up with a lot lately. Take this and buy yourself something nice. If it’s not enough, just ask for more.” I hadn’t even finished spending the money on the last card she gave me. That one had a seven-figure limit. This one was probably even more. Seraphina’s eyes widened with envy as she stared at the card lying casually on the table. But she wasn’t officially a Blackwood yet, not Mrs. Leo Blackwood, so she couldn’t very well ask for one herself. She forced a bright smile. “Nora, Mrs. Blackwood is so good to you. She treats you just like her own daughter.” Rich’s mother beamed with pride. “Of course she is. Having Nora marry into our family was the best thing that could have happened to us.” Seraphina’s smile faltered for a moment. His mother, sensing the shift, quickly added, “Of course, you’re wonderful too, Seraphina.” Leo jumped in to smooth things over. “Don’t worry, Sera. My mom is very generous. She treats everyone equally. Whatever Nora has, you’ll have too.” Only then did Seraphina’s smile become genuine again. “Thank you, Mrs. Blackwood.” “Thank you, Mom,” I said, cheerfully pocketing the card. My personal slush fund was overflowing again. I was so pleased that I even ate the piece of carrot Rich had placed in my bowl—a vegetable I despised. Seeing this, he promptly placed another serving of carrots in my bowl. I glanced at him, but he was completely composed, focusing intently on his meal. I pouted and pushed the offending vegetable to the side. [I love this mother-in-law. When in doubt, just throw money at the problem. Sign me up.] [Guys, I think… I think I’m starting to ship Nora and Rich!] [Scavenging for crumbs in the corner of the frame again!] [This? You call this shipping material? You’re desperate. Go watch Sera and Leo, they’re the real deal.] 7 After dinner, my in-laws left for another social engagement. The Blackwood brothers disappeared into the study to talk business. Once again, it was just me and Seraphina downstairs. I was about to head up to my room and give her the space, but she caught my arm. Seraphina was the brand ambassador for a major domestic luxury label. Recently, the brand had organized a high-profile charity fundraiser, and as the face of the company, she was expected to make a significant opening donation. But she clearly didn’t want to be the only one writing a big check. While nibbling on a post-dinner pastry, she casually brought it up. “Nora, would you be interested in donating as well?” As she explained the cause, I quietly pulled out my phone and messaged my assistant, asking her to verify the legitimacy of the charity project. Seeing my silence, Seraphina pressed on. “Of course, it’s fine if you’d rather not. It’s just, my heart breaks for those poor children in the mountains. They don’t have enough to eat or warm clothes to wear. Donating a little something is the least we can do.” She paused, as if calculating. “I saw some of the other celebrities pledged fifty thousand… so I was thinking, maybe I’ll donate one hundred…” Her sentence was cut short by my response. “I’ll donate one million.” My assistant had just replied, confirming the project was legitimate. Seraphina stared at me, speechless. “The money will come from me,” I continued, “but please put it under my mother-in-law’s name. By the way, how much did you say you were donating?” A moment ago, Seraphina had been preening, proud of her intended six-figure donation. After all, not many celebrities could afford to part with that kind of money. She was only offering that much because she was on camera and didn’t want to appear cheap. But I had just raised the stakes to a million. In front of millions of viewers, she couldn’t afford to back down.

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The moment I found out my husband was celebrating his mistress’s birthday—again—my world finally went gray. I walked to the balcony of our penthouse, the city lights a blur of indifferent glitter below, and prepared to jump. Just as I pulled myself onto the ledge, words began to flash in the air, shimmering like a digital mirage against the night sky. [OMG, DON’T DO IT! IN THE FUTURE, THAT MAN WILL BE ON HIS KNEES LICKING YOUR BOOTS!] [IF YOU DIE NOW, YOU’LL MISS HIM BEGGING FOR YOU BACK!] [YOU DON’T BELIEVE US? FINE. IN EXACTLY TWO MINUTES, YOUR HUSBAND IS GOING TO TEXT YOU. HE’LL TELL YOU TO DRAW HIM A BATH AND WAIT FOR HIM TO COME HOME.] I hesitated, half-incredulous, half-intrigued. And then, precisely two minutes later, my phone buzzed on the patio table. It was him. I came to believe these messages were here to help me save my marriage. So when my husband came home, I did exactly what they told me to do. I opened the door, a silk robe caressing my skin and a fresh, angry-red hickey blooming on my neck. 1 The sound of the key turning in the lock sent a jolt through me. I took one last, deep breath and pulled the door open. Ethan was propping up a drunken Tessa, his suit reeking of a cloying mix of perfume and whiskey. His brow was furrowed in that familiar, preemptive way, his excuses already forming on his lips. “She’s drunk, I just…” “I have plans tonight.” My voice, as smooth and placid as still water, cut through his prepared speech. He froze. I stepped aside, creating a path for them into the marble foyer. “Go on, get her settled,” I said with a serene smile. “Take a shower and get some rest. Don’t worry about the mess, the housekeeper will handle it in the morning.” The string of calm, considerate words, so unlike the hysterics he was expecting, left him utterly stunned. Ethan’s gaze, finally pulled from his shock, landed on me. For the first time in years, he looked at me like he was seeing a stranger. The black silk slip dress, a relic from a time before I’d made myself small for him, clung to curves he’d long ignored. And then his eyes found it: the garish, purple-red mark on my neck. His face darkened instantly. “What is that on your neck?” The question was a low growl, laced with a tremor I hadn’t heard in his voice since we were young and still afraid of losing each other. I instinctively raised a hand to cover the spot, my eyes darting away in a practiced display of panic. “It’s nothing. A mosquito bite, probably.” Without giving him another glance, I grabbed my purse from the sofa, slipped on my heels, and walked past him. “Where are you going?” he demanded, his voice tight with a rage he was barely suppressing. I didn’t turn back, giving him nothing but the sway of my hips and the sharp click of my heels on the floor. The moment I was outside, the cool night air hit me, and my carefully constructed composure crumbled. I leaned against the brick exterior of our building, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Comments,” I whispered to the empty street, “did I… did I do the right thing?” Instantly, the shimmering text flooded my vision, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. [THE RIGHT THING? GIRL, YOU KILLED IT! YOU ARE THE QUEEN!] [DID YOU SEE THE LOOK ON HIS FACE? I COULD WATCH THAT ON A LOOP FOREVER. PRICELESS!] [YOU’VE BEEN TOO GOOD FOR TOO LONG. HE GOT SO USED TO IT, HE THOUGHT YOU HAD NO WHERE ELSE TO GO!] [REMEMBER THE RULE: GOOD GIRLS GET A PAT ON THE HEAD. BAD BITCHES GET EVERYTHING.] I thought of the shock and raw, possessive anger on Ethan’s face—a flicker of the man who once cared. And I knew, with a certainty that settled deep in my bones, that the comments were right. [YOU HAVE TO COMMIT! GO TO A CLUB! SOMEPLACE HE CAN’T FIND YOU!] A club? I was the kind of woman who apologized when someone else bumped into me. But the words felt like a thousand invisible hands, pushing me forward into the night. The music was a physical force, a wall of sound that vibrated through my bones. Strobe lights fractured the darkness, catching glimpses of bodies writhing on the dance floor. I huddled in a corner booth, clutching a cocktail I hadn’t touched. [DON’T BE SCARED, HONEY! YOU’RE GORGEOUS! OWN IT!] [FEEL THE BEAT! LET YOURSELF GO!] Swept up by their encouragement and the intoxicating energy of the room, I found myself walking onto the floor. My movements were stiff at first, a clumsy translation of the rhythm. But then, slowly, I let the music take over. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t thinking. I was just moving. And it was pure joy. Hours later, flushed and breathless, I returned to my table and finally checked my silenced phone. The screen glowed with a single notification: Ethan (27) Missed Calls. My husband, the man who hadn’t bothered to call me back in over a year, had called me twenty-seven times. It was a complete reversal of our dynamic, where I was always the one desperately trying to track him down. [IGNORE HIM! LET HIM STEW! GIVE HIM A TASTE OF HIS OWN MEDICINE!] I obediently shoved the phone back into my purse, a slow smile spreading across my face. It’s not that I don’t want to come home, darling, I thought. It’s that I need to make you fall in love with me all over again. You’ll understand. You have to. 2 I stayed out all night. When I walked through the door at dawn, exhausted and hungover, the living room lights were blazing. Ethan was on the sofa, his eyes a roadmap of red veins. The ashtray at his feet was overflowing with crushed cigarette butts. The second he saw me, he shot up and grabbed my wrist, his voice a raw rasp. “Where were you?” I could still smell the faint, floral scent of Tessa’s perfume clinging to him. He stared at me, his face a mask of disbelief. “You’ve never done this before. You never stay out all night.” I met his gaze and gave him a slow, innocent blink. “And what if I do?” “Ethan, we’re both adults. We’re allowed to have our own lives, aren’t we?” My words struck him dumb. In those bloodshot eyes, for the first time, I saw a flicker of something new: fear. “Isn’t that what you always told me?” I tilted my head, my smile disarmingly sweet. “You were busy. You had a work dinner. You said… adults need their own space.” I served his own bullshit back to him, word for word. My heart was pounding, my palms slick with nervous sweat. [STAY IN CHARACTER! DON’T BREAK! YOU’RE IN YOUR VILLAIN ERA NOW, AVA!] [YES! FIGHT FIRE WITH FIRE! SO SATISFYING!] The comments were my armor. Just then, the master bedroom door clicked open. Tessa emerged, wrapped in a large silk robe, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was my favorite robe. A year ago, the sight would have sent me into a jealous rage. I would have clawed her eyes out. [HERE WE GO! THE MAIN EVENT! REMEMBER, THE FIRST ONE TO GET ANGRY LOSES!] I took a deep, steadying breath. Calm was my greatest weapon. Tessa feigned a gasp when she saw me, her voice dripping with syrupy sweetness. “Oh! Ava, you’re back! I’m so sorry, I had a little too much to drink last night, and Ethan was worried I’d ruin my clothes, so… he just found one of your old things for me to wear. You don’t mind, do you?” Ethan looked deeply uncomfortable. “Her dress was dirty,” he mumbled. “I just grabbed the first thing I saw.” “Mind?” I laughed. I walked straight over to Tessa, my tone full of gentle reproach—but my eyes were fixed on Ethan. “How could you give Tessa one of my old hand-me-downs? That’s so thoughtless.” Before either of them could react, I took Tessa’s hand and led her, stunned, toward my walk-in closet. I pulled a brand-new, tags-still-on silk chemise from a box and pressed it into her hands. “This one’s new. It’ll be perfect with your skin tone. Go on, try it on. It’ll look beautiful.” [HOLY SH*T! QUEEN BEHAVIOR! THAT’S NOT JUST A POWER MOVE, THAT’S A PUBLIC EXECUTION!] [TESSA’S FACE! SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS MAKING A STATEMENT, AND AVA JUST TREATED HER LIKE A BARGAIN BIN SHOPPER!] I ignored their petrified expressions, went into my own room, and changed into a sharp pantsuit. On my way out, I stopped at the safe hidden behind a painting in the hall and retrieved a velvet jewelry box. “Where are you going now?! What is that?” Ethan finally snapped out of his trance, grabbing my arm. I immediately shook him off and opened the box. Inside, a breathtaking sapphire necklace and earring set glittered under the light. “Oh, this?” I said, my voice airy and casual. “It’s the ‘Heart of the Deep.’ You remember, the set you bought for eight million at that auction our first year of marriage? The one… you were planning to give to Tessa, before you thought better of it.” Ethan’s pupils contracted. I turned to Tessa with a look of apology. “So sorry, Tessa, it’s not that I’m being stingy. It’s just, you know Mr. Harrison from Apex Corp? The deal we’re trying to close? His wife saw this set a few weeks ago and fell in love with it. I’m meeting her for tea this afternoon, and I thought I’d give it to her. A little gesture to help move the project along.” “Are you insane?” Ethan’s voice was trembling. “You loved that necklace more than anything! You wouldn’t even let me touch it!” “I’ve had a change of perspective,” I said, looking him directly in the eye, my expression open and sincere. “It’s just a piece of jewelry, collecting dust. It’s time it started serving a greater purpose, don’t you think?” I smiled, snapped the box shut, and patted his shoulder. “You two have a nice, relaxing day at home. I have to run.” And with that, I walked out without a backward glance. The second I was in my car, the door shut, I clutched the velvet box to my chest and felt a sharp, stabbing pain. It was, for so long, the last tangible proof I had that he once loved me. To pretend it didn’t hurt to give it away would be a lie. [DON’T BE SAD, AVA! YOU HAVE TO SACRIFICE A PAWN TO CAPTURE THE KING!] [THAT APEX DEAL IS WORTH FIFTY MILLION TO HAWTHORNE INDUSTRIES! AS A MAJOR SHAREHOLDER, YOU’LL BE ROLLING IN IT!] [THINK BIGGER! YOU’RE TRADING A TAINTED MEMORY FOR POWER, MONEY, AND RESPECT. HE’S GOING TO SEE YOU IN A WHOLE NEW LIGHT!] I read the messages, took a deep breath, and nodded. They were right. It was time to think bigger. Trading a material object for my career was more than worth it. 3 The look of sheer delight on Mrs. Harrison’s face when I gave her the “Heart of the Deep” was everything. Just as I’d predicted, the deal between Apex Corp and Hawthorne Industries was finalized within the week. And Mr. Harrison personally requested that I be appointed the lead project manager. The days that followed were a blur. I threw myself back into the corporate world I had abandoned three years ago, soaking up information like a sponge. Meetings, spreadsheets, client dinners… my calendar was a solid wall of appointments. [YES, BOSS LADY! GO! LET HIM SEE HOW INCREDIBLY HOT YOU ARE WHEN YOU’RE FOCUSED ON YOUR CAREER!] [THAT’S RIGHT! DON’T PAY HIM ANY ATTENTION! MEN ONLY SLOW DOWN THE GRIND!] The comments were my personal cheerleading squad. I could feel Ethan’s eyes on me whenever we were in the same room, a mixture of confusion, awe, and something else I couldn’t quite decipher. But I had no time to respond. Partly because the comments told me not to, and partly because I was just too damn busy. On the night of the celebration gala for the Apex deal, I was, as project lead, expected to attend with Ethan. I chose a champagne-colored, mermaid-style gown that hugged every curve. When I stepped out of the bedroom, Ethan was leaning against the wall, waiting. The moment he saw me, his breath hitched. The look in his eyes was one of pure, unadulterated shock and admiration. A spark of triumph lit inside me, but I kept my face a mask of cool indifference. “Are you ready to go?” I asked flatly. He swallowed hard and moved to open the door for me. Just as we were about to leave, a cloying voice cut through the air. “Ethan, honey? Ava? Where are you two going?” Tessa appeared out of nowhere, holding a glass filled with dark purple grape juice. She feigned a stumble, lurching directly toward me. The icy liquid soaked the front of my gown, blooming into a hideous, dark stain. “Oh my god! I’m so, so sorry, Ava!” Tessa shrieked, tears instantly welling in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to… I tripped! What are we going to do? The gala is so important tonight, and now you don’t have a dress. I guess… I guess Ethan will have to go by himself…” Every word of her apology was a carefully aimed dart. Ethan stared, first at the ruined dress, then at me. A flicker of indecision crossed his face. After a few seconds of tense silence, he actually opened his mouth and said it. “Maybe… Ava, maybe you should just go change. There isn’t much time. I can take Tessa with me to the event.”

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I am the villain in a story about a runaway bride and her secret baby. My father was just about to sign over a portfolio of downtown real estate—a dowry worth five billion dollars—to my fiancé, Noah Harrison, when the words appeared in the air before me, shimmering like a heat haze. [What a fool this villainess is. In three days, the heroine is going to return from overseas with his kid. By then, she’ll lose both the man and the money.] [That’s not all. Because she humiliates the heroine, the hero is going to bankrupt her family’s company. Her father will have a stroke, her mother will lose her mind, and she’ll be handed over to a group of men hired by the hero and left for dead.] [And then, the hero will let the heroine take over the villainess’s family company. Tsk, tsk. The ultimate rags-to-riches story!] My hand shot out and snatched the portfolio transfer agreement from the table. Meeting Noah’s sharp, questioning gaze, I offered him a cool smile. “Let’s sign a prenup first. How about this: if, within the first three years of our marriage, you cheat, become violent, or are discovered to have a secret child, you’ll pay me three times the value of my dowry. And the engagement settlement is non-refundable. Deal?” 1 My knuckles were white, my grip on the transfer agreement unyielding. The warm, celebratory atmosphere of our family dinner instantly turned cold and heavy. Noah stared at me for a few seconds, a slow, unreadable smile playing on his lips. “Tessa,” he said, his voice dangerously soft. “Are you treating our marriage like a business transaction?” His parents immediately jumped in, trying to smooth things over. “Oh, Tessa, you know Noah. You two have known each other since you were children. There’s never been another woman in his life.” But the words in the air kept scrolling. [Well, that’s technically true. The hero was drugged when he had that one-night stand with the heroine. He barely remembers it himself.] [Slept with her is slept with her. The hero can only belong to the heroine! But how did the villainess guess?] [Rich girl doesn’t equal dumb girl. She’s the heiress to the Ford Corporation, after all. A little risk assessment is normal.] [Suddenly, I feel like this villainess has some game. I’m starting to worry about my girl, the heroine…] My own parents tugged at my sleeve. “Tessa, darling, we trust Noah. He’s not that kind of person.” But I didn’t let go of the agreement. Noah’s voice was laced with ice. “It seems you don’t have much faith in me, Tessa. In that case, perhaps we should postpone the engagement party.” Without another word, he turned and walked out. I watched his tall, impeccably tailored figure disappear down the long hallway before I finally allowed myself to breathe. Losing the man was one thing. Losing five billion dollars in prime Manhattan real estate? That was irreplaceable. 2 When we got home, my parents scolded me for being so reckless. Our engagement party was supposed to be in three days. The entire upper echelon of New York society was invited. The engraved invitations had already been sent. Tonight’s dinner was meant to finalize the wedding plans. A postponement now would undoubtedly start a firestorm of gossip. But compared to what was supposed to happen at that party—a lost five-year-old boy clinging to Noah’s leg and calling him “Daddy”—a little gossip was nothing. A little boy who, according to the text, was the spitting image of a young Noah Harrison. “Dad, Mom,” I said, my voice calm and steady. “You’ve met more people than I’ve had hot dinners. Tell me, how many men with Noah Harrison’s wealth and status are truly saints? Even if he was one before, that’s no guarantee for the future.” My words gave them pause. Finally, they relented. They would speak to the Harrisons in a couple of days. We would use the excuse of me feeling unwell to postpone the party for a month. A month was fine. After all, the heroine was due to arrive in three days. 3 As a gesture of apology to our esteemed guests, the engagement party was rebranded. Three days later, it became a gala celebrating the Ford Corporation’s successful bid to develop a massive new public plaza project in the city center. The same elite crowd gathered, sipping champagne and networking. The Harrisons were, of course, on the guest list. I had just stepped out of my car when a new set of words floated before my eyes. [Here we go! The first meeting between the heroine and the villainess! Can’t wait for the classic ‘hero saves the damsel’ scene.] [The cute little munchkin is here to help Mommy find Daddy!] [I wonder if the villainess will regret postponing the engagement when she sees them. She lost her only chance to lock the hero down, hahaha!] My eyes instinctively began scanning the lavish ballroom, searching for a small child. But before I could spot them, I saw Noah walking toward me. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, his presence as commanding as ever. “As you requested,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “I’ll have the prenuptial agreement notarized and sent to you as soon as possible. The engagement party will proceed as planned, one month from now.” He looked down at me, his eyes filled with a kind of playful curiosity. “But I have to admit, I’m intrigued. Who’s been giving you advice?” We may have grown up together, but I’d always known Noah Harrison was a man ruled by logic, not passion. If it hadn’t been for our parents pushing us together for years, I doubt he would have ever given me a second glance. He probably thought I was just like all the other socialites—an empty-headed debutante with a pretty face. It was only after I got my acceptance letter to Wharton that he even considered dating me. His idea of a romantic confession was a curt, “It seems I’ve underestimated you.” If there was ever a flicker of affection he felt for me in the past, it was surely gone now. He must think I’m a cold, calculating schemer. Meeting his probing gaze, I just smiled. “Who can say no to a good insurance policy?” With a fifteen-billion-dollar penalty clause and a six-billion-dollar engagement settlement at stake, I could find any man I wanted. Just then, a commotion erupted near the entrance. A young woman in a simple white dress, with a sweet, innocent face, rushed into the venue, grabbing people by the arm. “Excuse me, have you seen my son?” 4 The person she grabbed was one of my family’s security guards. He frowned, trying to escort her out. “Ma’am, this is a private event. You can’t be in here. Please leave immediately.” But the woman was on the verge of tears. “No, my son is missing! He’s only five, I have to find him! Let me in!” “Please wait by the entrance. If we find a child, we will bring him to you.” “But I’m his mother! I have to go in! Let go of me, or I’ll call the police! Ah!” In the ensuing struggle, she stumbled and fell to the marble floor, scraping her porcelain-skinned leg. It started to bleed. Instantly, a little boy shot out from behind a large floral arrangement and slammed into the security guard, knocking him off balance. “Don’t you bully my mommy!” The woman then scooped the boy into her arms, and the two of them huddled together, crying, a picture of pathetic misery. [Like master, like servant. No surprise a dog raised by her would be so aggressive!] [A grown man bullying a single mother and her child. His conscience must have been eaten by a dog.] [Just wait. When the villainess’s family goes bankrupt, we’ll see how arrogant these servants are.] Noah watched the scene unfold with a frown, then turned to me. “It seems the security at the Ford Estate is a bit lacking. And your staff’s professionalism could use some work.” Then, as if to deliberately spite me, the man famous for his icy aloofness strode forward and extended a hand to the fallen woman. “Get up. I’ll have someone take you to the hospital.” The woman stared at him for a long moment, her eyes widening as if she’d seen a ghost. Then she grabbed her son and tried to run. But the little boy’s face lit up with pure joy. “Daddy!” he shouted at Noah. “Mommy, I found Daddy!” 5 The child’s voice was clear and high, immediately drawing the attention of every guest in the vicinity. Before anyone, including Noah, could react, the woman had scooped up the boy and vanished into the night. My father materialized at my side, his face grim. “What was that all about?” he whispered. I shrugged. “I have no idea. But the kid called Noah ‘Daddy.’ See, Dad? I told you the prenup was a good idea.” Our hushed conversation drifted to the nearby guests, and the celebratory mood of the evening soured. After the party, the Harrisons came over with Noah to offer an explanation. “Tessa, there must be some misunderstanding!” Mrs. Harrison insisted. Noah’s face was a thundercloud. For the first time, he spoke to me with a hint of defensiveness. “I can’t possibly have a son. For that woman to show up now, at this exact moment… she’s clearly after something.” The floating text reappeared. [This isn’t how it’s supposed to go… Shouldn’t the hero have seen the resemblance, abandoned the villainess, and run after the heroine?] [And the villainess is way too calm. Wasn’t she supposed to fly into a jealous rage, slap the heroine, and then get pushed away by the hero?] [Don’t worry, everyone. Once the heroine starts working at the hero’s company, the plot should get back on track.] Oh? She’s going to work at Harrison Industries? I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Noah. “Are you… sure you don’t want to get a paternity test first? What if he really is the result of a wild night you don’t remember?” A vein pulsed in Noah’s temple. He grabbed my wrist, his grip tight. “Tessa, I don’t know who has been whispering poison in your ear, but listen to me. Other than you, I have never laid a finger on another woman. I will find her and get to the bottom of this. And then, our engagement party will proceed as planned.” Fine by me. Let’s see you get past hiring the heroine first. I gently patted his hand. “Don’t get so worked up. It’s only fifteen billion dollars. I’m sure you can afford it.” As I turned to leave, I saw Noah violently loosen his tie, looking like he was about to kick the leg off the nearest coffee table. 6 After the gala disaster, my parents stopped mentioning the engagement. Meanwhile, rumors about Noah and the Harrison family began to circulate through our social circles. When I arrived at Harrison Industries for a progress meeting on a joint venture between our companies, I could feel the weight of everyone’s knowing glances. “Did you hear? Mr. Harrison has a secret son. The mother and child caused a huge scene at the Ford Estate…” “What? The Ice Prince of Wall Street has fallen?” “I knew there was a reason they postponed the engagement… Miss Ford looks perfectly healthy to me.” “It’s Mr. Harrison who looks like a mess. He’s been in a foul mood for weeks, apparently, he has his P.I.s searching everywhere for that woman.” I was engrossed in the gossip when I saw the head of HR walking a group of new hires down the hallway outside the glass-walled conference room. The heroine was among them. She was still in all white, a picture of nervous excitement. Here for her interview? My interest piqued, I was about to step out for a closer look when I nearly collided with Noah, who looked haggard and was radiating a “do not approach” aura. He grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?” “Oh… nowhere, just saw someone I thought I knew,” I said with a breezy laugh. Noah frowned and glanced in the direction I’d been looking. The tour group had already moved on. All he saw was a handsome, broad-shouldered young man with a sunny disposition carrying two coffees our way. The young man caught our eye and gave a shy smile. Noah’s grip on my arm tightened. “You know, your eyes used to only be for me,” he said, his voice dripping with a strange, acidic tone. “What’s this? Developed a new taste recently?” “I…” I was about to tell him he was mistaken, that I was looking at the baby mama, not the pretty boy. But Noah cut me off, turning to his assistant. “Who is this person?” The assistant looked from the bewildered pretty boy to his equally bewildered boss. “I believe he’s a new recruit from our fall intake. A top graduate from Yale.” Noah scoffed. “Transfer him to the regional office in Stamford.” Then he turned back to me, his words heavy with meaning. “A word of advice, Tessa. Be careful with pretty boys. Most of them are only after your money.” I just stared at him. “???” 7 After the meeting, Noah walked with me out of the conference room. As we passed through the main office area, we saw the Yale graduate from earlier, packing his desk with a dejected look on his face. I paused, turning to Noah. “A top mind from Yale, and you’re just sending him to a satellite office? That seems like a waste. If you don’t want him, I’ll take him. He can be my new assistant at Ford.” The sound that followed was a loud smack. Noah had slammed his palm down on the partition of a nearby cubicle. He leaned in close, that same unreadable, half-smiling expression on his face. “Tessa. Our engagement is postponed. Not canceled.” Sensing the sudden drop in atmospheric pressure, every employee in the vicinity shrank behind their monitors. Only one person dared to speak. A small, timid voice. “Mr. Harrison… my files…” I glanced down and my eyebrows shot up. What a coincidence. Noah had chosen, of all the desks in this vast office, the new desk of the heroine. And his hand was currently planted firmly on top of her paperwork. He followed my gaze, and his face instantly darkened. He barked at his assistant, “What is she doing here?” The assistant looked and his own face went pale. “She must be one of the new hires who started today…” The text in front of my eyes went wild. [Aaaah, here it is! Go on, hero! Be brave! Break off the engagement with the villainess and bring our heroine and her little angel home!] [Something feels off… Why is the hero looking at the heroine like he wants to murder her?] [Oh, relax! That’s just how enemies-to-lovers stories start~] [But he really looks like he’s jealous over that Yale guy right now…] [Can I just say, this villainess has way too much screen time. Can she just get lost already?] At that moment, the heroine—Ava—looked up and saw Noah’s face. All the color drained from hers. She scrambled to her feet to run, but in her panic, she tripped over her own chair and fell, landing in a heap right at my feet. I instinctively took a step back. Was this some kind of insurance scam? She looked helpless, trying to push herself up, her voice choked with tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was your company, I’ll leave right now…” But Noah grabbed her arm. “Wait. You’re not going anywhere until you explain yourself.” The woman looked back at him, tears welling in her eyes, a mixture of fear and what looked like wounded pride. She struggled weakly against his grip. “I… I have nothing to say…” Noah let out a cold laugh. “The Ford Estate is on a private mountain road. You can’t get up there without a car, and there are guards at the main gate. How did you get in? And the child—where did you hire him?” She just stared at him, biting her lip, refusing to speak. Just then, the little boy came running out from behind a pillar, launching himself at Noah’s leg and beating it with his tiny fists. “Bad Daddy! You’re bullying Mommy for that bad woman! You don’t deserve to be my daddy!” This time, in the bright office lights, we all got a clear look at the boy’s face. There was no denying it. He was a miniature Noah Harrison. Even Noah, usually so composed, had a flicker of doubt cross his face. 8 The last time we’d seen the boy, he was wearing a baseball cap and it was dark. This time, there was no ambiguity. A ripple of whispers went through the office. “Oh my god, the resemblance is uncanny…” “Even if he’s not his son, he has to be a relative, right?” “I told you, where there’s smoke, there’s fire… and the woman is very pretty. Maybe the boss really did have a thing with her.” Noah’s face was grim as he escorted them both back to his family’s town car. I tried to slip away, but he wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me into the car with them. “We are going to settle this today, in front of both our families.” My parents, having heard about the commotion, were already on their way to the Harrison residence. In the car, the woman—who said her name was Ava Miller and her son was Nicky—admitted the boy was hers, but she refused to name the father. She claimed she only took the job at Harrison Industries to provide a better life for her son and had no other intentions. As for the boy… she said he’d snuck out of his daycare because he was worried his mommy would get bullied at her new job. The child, his neck stiff with defiance, glared at me. “It’s a good thing I came, or my mommy would have been eaten alive by a mean woman like you! My mommy is the kindest, most innocent person in the world, and I have to protect her!” I just stared back. “???” At the Harrison’s Park Avenue penthouse, Ava stood protectively in front of her son, enduring the scrutiny of our assembled families. After a long, tense silence, Mrs. Harrison spoke, her voice strained. “Noah. Are you absolutely certain you don’t know her?” Mr. Harrison was on the phone, pacing. A video of the office confrontation, filmed by an employee, was already going viral online. The comments were brutal, painting a picture of a callous billionaire knocking up a common girl and refusing to take responsibility. Someone had even made a side-by-side comparison of Noah’s childhood photos and Nicky’s face. The resemblance was damning. The text floated lazily in front of me. [My poor babies, being stared at like animals in a zoo. Why isn’t the hero protecting his wife?] [Don’t you see the villainess sitting right next to him? If he defends the heroine now, the villainess will go crazy and plot even worse things against her. He’s obviously weighing his options.] [I don’t know… are we watching the same show? He doesn’t look like he wants to protect her. He looks like he wants to strangle her…] I glanced over at Noah. His face was a mask of thunderous rage. “Mom,” he gritted out, “you don’t believe me either?” Finally, I spoke, breaking the suffocating silence. “Mrs. Harrison, this seems pretty simple to me. Just get a paternity test. If the boy is his, I’ll call off the wedding.” 9 “Tessa, don’t you dare!” Noah looked like he was about to explode. I pointed at the boy, my expression one of pure innocence. “I mean, look at that face. Are you honestly telling me you don’t see any family resemblance?” Noah’s jaw tightened, and he sank back into his seat, fuming. Just as the standoff reached its peak, Ava suddenly dropped to her knees with a thud, pulling Nicky down with her onto the cold marble floor. “I’m so sorry,” she cried, her voice breaking. “I never should have disturbed your peaceful lives! It’s all my fault. If only… if only I hadn’t given birth to him!” With that, she grabbed Nicky and, to everyone’s horror, began slapping the little boy’s face, her hand striking his soft cheeks again and again. “I told you not to call random men Daddy! I told you! Apologize to the nice lady and gentleman! Apologize right now! If you don’t, then you can just forget you ever had a mother! I don’t want a disobedient child like you!” Nicky was stunned into silence, then began to wail, tears streaming down his already reddening face. He clung to his mother’s sleeve, sobbing, “I’m sorry, Mommy, I’m sorry, Nicky’s sorry…” “What are you sorry for?!” Ava shrieked, not satisfied. She grabbed his ear and twisted, eliciting a sharp scream from the boy. The scene was agonizing to watch. Even Noah, who had been the most hostile towards them, winced, a flicker of pity in his eyes. Mrs. Harrison started to reach for the child, but she glanced at me and hesitated. I could see Nicky’s little ear turning purple. It was about to start bleeding. That was it. I shot forward, grabbing Ava’s wrist and pulling the trembling child into my arms. “That’s enough, Miss Miller,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Don’t you think you’ve gone a little too far?”

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My brother Jake always called himself a prankster—cockroaches in my food, cutting my belt before an award ceremony. I complained to our parents, but it was useless. At my wedding, during his toast, he pulled out a fake medical report. “My brother didn’t mean to hide his HIV diagnosis,” he said tearfully. “He just loves his bride too much.” The room erupted. My father-in-law had a heart attack; my fiancée Cici died rushing him to the hospital. I hunted Jake down. He shrugged. “Just a joke. How was I to know they’d be so fragile?” My parents locked me in my room. “He was testing your in-laws,” they said. “It’s their fault for not trusting you.” I jumped from the windowsill. Then I opened my eyes again. This time, I’d give Jake a taste of his own medicine. 1. The blinding flash of a camera jolted me. I stared, bewildered, at the photographer directing our poses. Cici, my fiancée, noticed my unease. She gently wiped the sweat from my brow, her face etched with concern. “Leo, are you not feeling well, honey? We’re about to change for the next set anyway. Why don’t you rest for a bit? I’ll go grab you some juice.” My head was spinning. It wasn’t until Cici helped me to a chair in the waiting area and I saw the date and time on the digital wall clock that it finally sank in. I was back. I had returned to the day of our wedding photoshoot, exactly one week before the ceremony. In my past life, I had spent a month meticulously planning every detail to ensure our wedding would be perfect. But I never could have anticipated the moment my own brother, Jake, would snatch the microphone during the family toasts. “I’m so incredibly happy for my brother,” he had announced. “And I hope he stays strong. I know he can beat this diagnosis.” My mind went blank. Before I could even process his words, Jake continued, his voice thick with false sympathy. “Leo begged me to keep his secret, but my conscience wouldn’t let me. Especially seeing how devoted Cici is to him… I couldn’t let her and her family stay in the dark.” Then, he produced a forged lab report. With sickening detail, he wove a tale of my supposed promiscuity, starting from middle school—how I’d tricked girls into bed, scammed one into taking out loans to fund my lifestyle, and finally, how I’d cheated on Cici and contracted a disease. The joyous celebration instantly soured, replaced by a chorus of curses and accusations. Cici was devastated, her eyes red with unshed tears, unable to form a single word of question. Then her father collapsed from a heart attack. The ensuing car crash on the way to the hospital killed them both. Someone posted a video of the scene online, and I was crucified by an endless wave of public hatred. With no one to turn to and no way to clear my name, I chose suicide. Only in my final moments did I learn the truth: to Jake, it had all been a prank. A joke to “liven things up.” … The memory of that suffocating despair washed over me. I watched Cici approach, a gentle smile on her face as she handed me my favorite juice. In that moment, my resolve hardened into steel. This time, I would not only protect our happiness. I would make my brother understand the true cost of his “jokes.” The wedding day arrived, the venue even more lavish than before. We had even invited a few popular influencers to livestream the event, sharing our joy with the world. As the makeup artist was doing some final touch-ups, Jake burst into the room, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wow, bro. Quite the wedding. And you didn’t have to spend a cent. Really making the family proud.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “And Cici… damn. Not only is she hot, but she didn’t even ask for anything, just showered you with expensive watches and cars. I noticed her chest looks even bigger today. Guess you’ve been working hard to keep her happy in bed, huh?” He sighed dramatically. “I don’t get it. We came from the same parents. How come you get all the luck with women? You’ve always had gorgeous girls throwing money at you.” Our father, Arthur, who had followed him in, chimed in with a greedy grin. “Don’t be stupid, kid. The money your brother saved can go to you. And you like his car, right? Just take it. Anything you want in the future, just ask. Cici’s family is loaded. It’s all in the family now. When it’s your turn to get married, they can foot the bill for the wedding and the house. We can’t let you get the short end of the stick.” Jake’s eyes lit up. Just then, Cici walked in. Her face darkened as she overheard them, but for my sake, she said nothing. My whole life, Jake had been spreading malicious lies about me, and my parents’ blatant favoritism had always forced me to swallow my anger. Not this time. I was done being their doormat. I glared at Jake, my voice rising to a sharp crescendo. “Did Mom and Dad only teach you how to spew shit? You’re jealous because you’re useless. You have hands and feet—if you want nice things so bad, go be a gigolo! You want us to pay for your wedding? Maybe you should just start calling us Mom and Dad instead!” They were stunned into silence. I had always been the compliant, easygoing one. My outburst left them speechless. After a long moment, Jake finally found his voice, sputtering with indignation. “It was just a joke, man! Why are you being so sensitive?” He sneered. “Besides, I wouldn’t want your life anyway. You’re just marrying into her family, a kept man living off her money. Everyone knows it. People are going to be looking down on you. It’s pathetic, really.” “Who knows,” he continued, his voice getting louder, “maybe one day Cici will get tired of you, find a new boy toy, and kick you to the curb…” Before he could finish, my hand connected with his cheek in a sharp crack. “Even if I am marrying into her family, Cici and her parents treat me with more respect than you ever have! They treat me like their own son. You’re the one who wants to be a leech, so don’t project your pathetic ambitions onto me!” The commotion drew a crowd. Jake, clutching his reddening cheek, was overcome with shame and rage. He started shouting. “You have the nerve to say that? You think you’re so clean? Cici’s family has been nothing but good to you, and you’re still cheating on her behind her back! You even sleep with men! And the most disgusting part is, you contracted AIDS and you’re hiding it from her!” “You’re a sick freak!” At his words, a hush fell over the crowd. The whispers and murmurs died. Even the hotel staff paused, their eyes fixed on me. In that moment, I was the shameless, disgusting man he painted me to be. Everyone instinctively believed him. After all, why would a brother lie about something so serious on his own brother’s wedding day? But that was Jake. He never knew where the line was. It started small, with stupid gag toys. A fake cockroach in the rice cooker. A rubber snake in my bed. I’d be scared out of my wits while he’d be doubled over, howling with laughter. When I stopped reacting to his childish pranks, he decided to escalate. He once snuck into my company dorm while I was out, drenched himself in fake blood, and lay on the floor. When my roommate and I returned, we found him and started screaming in terror. Just as we were about to call the police, he leaped up, yelling, “Surprise!” My roommate was so freaked out he had me kicked out of the dorm. Another time, during an important video conference with a client, he burst in dressed as a masked robber, holding a toy knife to my back. He wanted to see me panic and make a fool of myself. I lost the client. I lost the deal. I was on the verge of a breakdown, but Jake just put on a wounded expression. “Come on, bro, you’re always so stressed. I was just trying to make you laugh.” And my parents, as always, backed him up. “Jake was just trying to cheer you up. Can’t you take a joke? It’s not his fault you’re so timid.” “That’s right,” my father would say. “You’re the older brother. You should be more tolerant. Now, apologize to Jake.” They never understood. Because of his “good intentions,” I didn’t just lose a job I had fought tooth and nail for; I became a running joke among my colleagues. Thinking of this, a cold smile touched my lips. I slapped him again, harder this time. “I’ve put up with your crap for years, but did you forget what day it is? How dare you run your mouth with this garbage today.” Some of our relatives, who knew Jake’s tendencies, tried to smooth things over. “Come on, Jake, you’re always pulling pranks on your brother, but you can’t joke about something like this on his wedding day.” Seeing that some people were still on my side, Jake’s anger flared. He pointed a trembling finger at me, his other hand covering his stinging cheek. “I’m not a kid! You think I’d say something like this without proof? I know everything he’s done. And deep down, he knows it too!” Cici’s expression flickered with a hint of uncertainty, but she stood firm. “Jake, I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but I’ve been with Leo for a long time. I know the kind of person he is, and I know he wouldn’t lie to me.” Her friends, who had gotten to know me well, started murmuring in my defense. Their support gave me the strength I needed. “You said you have proof?” I challenged him. “Well, you’d better show it. Otherwise, get the hell out of my sight and never come back.” At my words, our father, Arthur, exploded. “You bastard! Haven’t you embarrassed us enough? Why did we ever have a disgrace like you for a son?” Our mother, Helen, quickly jumped in. “Jake is just trying to help you get ahead of the story, before Cici finds out and it’s too late to fix things. It’s already out in the open, so why are you still denying it? Apologize to her and her family right now!” I looked at the three of them and let out a cold, humorless laugh. I pulled out my phone, opened the livestream, and shoved the screen in Jake’s face. “You see this? There are influencers here, broadcasting this to thousands of people. If you can’t produce that proof, the whole world is going to know you’re nothing but a pathetic liar.” Seeing the stream of comments mocking him, Jake’s face contorted with rage. “Fine! You asked for this! You want proof? Here’s your proof!” He ripped a folded document from his bag and held it up for everyone to see, his finger pointing at the conclusion. “A friend of mine at the hospital asked me to give this to my brother. The diagnosis is right here, clear as day: HIV-positive.” He smirked, his eyes glinting with malicious triumph. “Well? There’s your proof. Try talking your way out of this one!” “If I hadn’t found this by chance, he would have hidden it from me too! He probably would’ve tried to infect me and then blame me for it! And this is after I’ve kept so many of his other dirty little secrets.” “Don’t let his clean-cut act fool you,” he spat. “He’s always been rotten. He was sleeping with girls in middle school, tricking them into taking out loans for him in high school. After college, he barely came home. I found out later it was because some rich old guy was keeping him. He’s a disgusting, twisted pervert!” He was right about one thing: I rarely went home. There was never a place for me there, and I was sick and tired of him. Seeing the “evidence,” the people who had been defending me instinctively took a step back. The online comments immediately flipped. “Whoa, he really has proof. The groom is toast.” “He looks so normal, but what a scumbag. Good on the brother for speaking up. The bride dodged a massive bullet.” “That brother is a hero. The groom is disgusting, sleeping with everyone. He should be locked up, not getting married. The bride needs to get tested ASAP.” I stared at Jake, my voice laced with disbelief. “Jake, where did you get this? Are you trying to destroy me in front of everyone? You know I never even held a girl’s hand before I met Cici. How could I possibly have a disease like that?” It was as if he didn’t hear me. He glanced at the livestream comments, then turned to Cici, his face suddenly crumpling into a mask of sorrow. He grabbed her hands, tears and snot running down his face. “Cici, please don’t blame my brother,” he sobbed. “He only did these things because he was jealous that our parents loved me more. He was just acting out, desperate for attention. It’s all my fault.” “I’m so sorry, on his behalf. He really loves you. He promised he’d get treatment and that he’d never mess around again.” “Please,” he begged, turning to include her parents, “please forgive him.” His performance earned a wave of sympathy from the crowd and the online audience. Cici, however, just stared at him like he was an idiot. She pulled her hands away and looked at me, her eyes full of questions. I put on a frantic, desperate act. “Mom! Dad!” I shouted at Arthur and Helen, who were watching the show with grim satisfaction. “Are you just going to stand there and let him do this? Are you trying to ruin my life? Say something! Defend me!” They exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between them. Then Arthur pointed a finger at me and roared, “Shut your mouth! We have no son as vile as you! Must you air all your filthy laundry in public? It’s bad enough you were reckless, but to get a disease… You’ve brought nothing but shame on me and your mother!” “Cici,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “You know the situation now. If you still want to marry our son, we won’t stop you. If you don’t, we understand. But one thing is for sure: all the money and gifts you’ve given our family, we won’t be returning them.” … They played their parts perfectly, their little scheme clicking along. At first, I thought Jake was just jealous. But having died once, I knew the truth. They saw me as a tool, a handsome face they could use to swindle wealthy women out of their money. In that moment, any lingering connection I felt to them was severed for good. I took a deep breath, my voice suddenly calm and clear. “Brother,” I said, with a hint of pity. “Why don’t you bring that report a little closer? Let everyone see whose name is signed in the patient field.”

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When I was in college, I was dirt poor. And I dated a guy who was richer than God. He was the undisputed king of New York’s elite, the kind of guy everyone just called by his last name, Ford. It was a love story that made no sense from any angle, and no one thought it would last. Not even him. “This is just a bit of fun,” he’d said. “Nothing serious.” So when I broke up with him, to save the last shred of my pride, I lied. I told him I’d fallen for someone else. That I didn’t want him anymore. His eyes, usually so cool and steady, burned with a furious, crimson-edged hurt. He told me if I walked out that door, I’d better not live to regret it. I never looked back. Five years later, we met again. And the man they now called the cold, untouchable head of the Ford empire cornered me on a darkened film set. “I told you to go, and you just… left?” he asked, his voice raw. “How could you be so goddamn heartless?” Then, his voice broke. “It was me. I’m the one who regrets it, Willa.” 1 The day the director announced our main investor was visiting the set, the name Landon Ford never once crossed my mind. At that moment, my back was to him as I ran lines with another actor. He was standing by the monitors, surrounded by a deferential cluster of suits, only a few feet away. A nervous lump formed in my throat. My fingers tightened on my script, the pages crinkling under the pressure, leaving deep creases. Thankfully, the producer scurried over with the film’s lead actress in tow. “Mr. Ford,” he said, his voice dripping with sycophancy, “I’d like you to meet our star. She’s one of the hottest new talents in the industry.” The woman, her makeup flawless, offered Landon a practiced, gentle smile. “Mr. Ford, we met once at a gala. I don’t know if you remember?” Landon barely glanced at her, a flicker of his eyes his only acknowledgment. He didn’t offer her a single courtesy. His gaze was locked on the monitor in front of him, his eyes dark and intense. For a split second, it was like watching a storm surge across a vast ocean, only to be swallowed by an unnerving calm. The producer, left hanging, nervously followed his line of sight to the screen. “Mr. Ford?” he ventured carefully. “Is something wrong?” A cool, thin smile touched the corner of Landon’s mouth. “No. I just saw someone I know.” The casual words, tossed out so carelessly, made the muscles in my back seize. A cold knot of panic tightened in my stomach. “Oh! An old friend on our set?” The producer’s face lit up, practically glowing with delight. “Who might that be?” In that instant, I felt a dozen pairs of eyes sweeping over the set, searching. Then, Landon’s voice, as cool and sharp as ever, cut through the air. “Her.” 2 “Her. Pippa.” The young actress standing across from me gasped. I just blinked, my mind struggling to catch up. The producer practically sprinted over, nudging me aside to enthusiastically guide Pippa toward Landon. Watching them talk, a familiarity in their exchange, the breath I’d been holding finally escaped in a silent, shaky rush. Thank God… Thank God he wasn’t talking about me. All these years had passed. An awkward reunion with an ex-boyfriend felt… not just cliché, but deeply unwelcome. Besides, they genuinely seemed to know each other. Even when Pippa, pushed in front of him, complained, “Hey, I was in the middle of running lines! What do you want?” Landon’s response was a lazy smirk. “Your brother told me to tell you to stop playing movie star and come home.” He was nothing like the short-tempered tyrant people whispered about. The producer’s beaming face was proof enough of that. Their meeting was going swimmingly. So swimmingly that when the producer and director suggested they all continue the conversation over dinner, Landon didn’t refuse. I watched their retreating backs, my body finally unclenching. I carefully smoothed out the mangled script in my hands and let out a long, slow sigh. Somehow, I’d survived the day. But just as she was about to turn the corner, Pippa glanced back over her shoulder. “Willa!” she called out, her voice bright and full of energy. “Do you want to come to dinner with us?” 3 For the first time in my life, I understood what it felt like for time to freeze. When the world snapped back into focus, I ducked my head, letting my hair fall forward to hide my face. “No, thanks. You guys go ahead. I have plans tonight.” I turned and walked away, my steps hurried, almost fleeing. I had no idea if Landon had recognized me. The lighting on set was dim; maybe he hadn’t gotten a clear look. Or maybe he had, and the current version of me simply held no significance for him. Our breakup had been a spectacular, ugly mess. I had humiliated him, a man so fiercely proud, in front of everyone he knew. I had been the one to dump him, my cruelty a sharp, decisive blade that shocked everyone. But only I knew the truth. I was the one who walked away, and I was the one who cried myself empty for weeks afterward. I could still hear Landon’s voice from that day, laced with fury. “Willa, if you walk out that door today, you better not live to regret it! If I ever see you again, I swear I’ll make you pay.” I knew he was capable of it. He was capable of anything. So I grabbed my bag and ran. And I never, ever looked back. But now, five years later, we were here. I chewed on my thumbnail, a wave of cold fear washing over me. It’s been so long. He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t still want revenge, would he? 4 Landon Ford had a bad temper. That was the one thing everyone who knew him could agree on. He was the heir to the Ford empire, the crown prince of New York City. It wasn’t just that his family had money and he had the looks of a fallen angel; he was brilliant, too, effortlessly acing his way through Columbia. If it weren’t for the fact that I was broke, I never would have taken that temp job as a model at a luxury car show. Our paths never would have crossed. The first time I saw Landon, it was in a private, gilded club in midtown. He was perched on a high stool, legs crossed, lazily propping his chin on one hand as he watched me interact with the host on stage. The upperclassman who’d gotten me the gig said I could make extra cash by doing a private showing for a group of rich kids after the main event. Money was the one thing that could make me bend, make my heart race. So there I was, in an ill-fitting gown and heels that pinched my feet, smiling in front of one gleaming supercar after another until my face felt like stone. I knew I was pretty. My roommates always said I had the face of an ice queen but the eyes of a lost fawn, a combination that could fool anyone who didn’t know the real me. But I had no idea how casually cruel the world of the wealthy could be. Before I had even stepped off the stage, a fleshy-faced man was leering at me, his voice slick with suggestion. “A college girl, huh? Need a little pocket money? Daddy can help with that.” My stomach turned. My face went rigid. But I needed the money, so I forced myself to pretend I hadn’t heard him. In a place like this, drowning in champagne and privilege, no one was going to help me. His comment was met with a chorus of encouraging snickers. But just as the man reached out to grab me, a chair came flying from above, crashing down on him and sending him stumbling back, blood suddenly blooming on his forehead. He clutched his head, roaring with rage at the second-floor balcony. “What the hell? Who the fuck threw that? You got a death wish?” That’s when Landon descended the staircase. He casually stubbed out a cigarette, his eyes sweeping the room through the haze of smoke before they finally landed on me, tucked away in the corner. He turned his cold gaze back to the bleeding man. “That would be your daddy,” he said, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. I remember my heart pounding, terrified they were about to get into a bloody fight because of me. But the man, who had been so aggressive and menacing moments before, underwent a bizarre transformation. He saw Landon, and a strained, anxious smile stretched across his face. He started wringing his hands, bowing his head. “A misunderstanding! A complete misunderstanding!” he stammered. “Mr. Ford, it was all a mistake!” He looked like a terrifying, life-sized bobblehead. It was both pathetic and deeply frightening. It was in that moment I understood. The title “crown prince” wasn’t just some nickname his friends had cooked up. And it was the first time I saw his temper, raw and unfiltered. He completely ignored the man’s frantic apologies. He simply nodded to his friends, and they broke the man’s arm—the same one he had reached out to touch me with. Afterward, Landon leaned back against a chair, lit another cigarette, and pressed the sole of his shoe onto the man’s head. “Try to keep the gutter trash in your head from now on,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “Otherwise, I might have to consider helping your family line end with you.” 5 A cold night wind swept through the lot. I waited, calculating how long a fancy dinner might last, before finally grabbing a jacket and stepping out of my trailer. The set was quiet for once, a rare lull before the night shoot began. I started down the familiar path toward the little diner I always went to. As I rounded a corner, I saw a silhouette standing in the moonlit path ahead. At first, I assumed it was a crew member returning from a break. But as I drew closer, a sense of unease made me slow my steps. There, under the bright, cold moon, stood Landon. Dressed in all black, he almost blended into the shadows. A cigarette smoldered between his fingers. He looked up through the rising smoke, his eyes meeting mine across the narrow path. Those eyes, dark and sharp as ink. They were exactly the same as the night we first met. … 6 The wind whispered through the trees. The world around us was utterly silent. My feet felt rooted to the spot. I turned, intending to walk away. “You’re an actress on this film?” Landon’s voice stopped me. My body tensed. “…Yes,” I managed, my voice barely a whisper. “What’s your role?” “The third lead.” “Going to dinner?” “Yes.” “You know who I am?” “Yes.” The film’s primary investor. The man who held our jobs in the palm of his hand. His rapid-fire questions made my palms sweat. I had no idea what he wanted, what his game was. Before I could process it, another question came. “Are you afraid of me?” … “No.” “Then why are you looking at the ground?” “The wind… it’s strong.” He let out a low, soft chuckle, his voice a little rough. “You remind me of someone I used to know.” My heart hammered against my ribs. My throat went dry. “Is that so? I guess that’s a compliment. I’ve been told I have one of those familiar faces.” “I suppose,” he mused. “In your line of work, looking like someone else is practically a job requirement.” I had nothing to say to that, so I just nodded slightly. Silence fell between us again. I watched him light another cigarette. The smoke curled from his fingertips, coiling in the air like something dangerous, barely contained. A chill ran down my spine. That 불안, that deep-seated anxiety, returned. I couldn’t figure out the point of this conversation. I’d been in the entertainment industry for three years. While I’d certainly changed from the girl I was in college, I wasn’t a completely different person. But in the dim light, with his cryptic words hanging in the air, I couldn’t tell if he genuinely didn’t recognize me, or if, to a man like him, I was simply someone not worth remembering. In the end, it didn’t matter which it was. We were not in a position to be having this kind of late-night heart-to-heart. I pulled my jacket tighter against the cold. “Mr. Ford,” I said, my voice muffled. “I have a night shoot soon. If you’ll excuse me.” I started to step around him, my head down. “Willa Hayes.” His voice stopped me cold. My heart dropped into my stomach.

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My mom made a rule to stop us twins from fighting over gifts. Every year, Zoe and I would take turns making a “big wish.” Odd years were mine, even years were hers. The first even year, she used all her savings to send Zoe to a Disney summer camp. When my first odd year came, all I wanted was a laptop for school. But my mom said money was tight, and promised she’d make it up to me the next year. The next year, she bought Zoe the newest iPhone. The year after that, when it was my turn again, she said Zoe needed expensive tutoring… My wishes were “postponed” indefinitely. Until my eighteenth birthday. I made a wish over my cake, hoping for my very own first phone. After I blew out the candles, my mother handed me a beautifully wrapped box. I opened it, my hands trembling with excitement. Inside was my sister’s old, discarded phone, its screen a spiderweb of cracks. She smiled and said, “Zoe felt so bad for you, she insisted you have the phone she just replaced. Even the charger is brand new!” 1 My eighteenth birthday party was a lively affair, filled with relatives and noise. My mom brought out the cake and told me to make a wish. I closed my eyes, my mind fixed on a single thought: a phone of my own. After the candles were out, Mom produced a beautifully wrapped box from behind her back and handed it to me with a smile. My hands were shaking. In all these years, this was the first time she had ever gotten me a gift on one of my odd years. I tore open the box. Inside was an old phone, the screen fractured with a half-dozen cracks, like a shattered web. “Zoe felt so bad for you,” my mom said, her voice bright. “She insisted you have the phone she just replaced. Even the charger is brand new! Now, what do you say to your sister?” I said nothing. I looked up and saw Zoe across the room, happily snapping pictures of everyone with her brand-new iPhone, a wide smile on her face. All eyes were on me. I held up the broken phone, my gaze locked on my mother. “Mom, is this what you meant by ‘my turn’?” “Is this the fairness you promised for eighteen years? One for me, one for her?” A murmur rippled through our relatives. I didn’t care about them. Tonight, I was going to make things clear. “When I was fourteen, it was my turn. I needed a laptop for a major competition. You said money was tight and promised you’d get it for me the next year.” “I had no choice. I had to camp out in the school library every single night, using their public computers until they kicked me out. In the end, my project was downgraded, and I missed out on a state scholarship.” “When I was sixteen, it was my turn again. My eyesight was getting worse, I couldn’t see the board in class, and all I wanted was a new pair of glasses. You told me to wait, that the money had to be spent on more important things.” “I wore those old glasses for two whole years, suffering from blinding headaches every single day. I couldn’t focus in class at all.” I pointed a trembling finger at my sister. “But during those same years, you sent Zoe to a Disney summer camp for half a month.” “You hired her a private art tutor who’d studied abroad—a single one of her lessons cost more than a new pair of glasses for me.” “You even bought her a purebred Corgi, saying a girl shouldn’t be lonely without a pet.” “Every one of my wishes was for my education, to help me see clearly. Every one of hers was for fun. And now you’re telling me this is fair?” The color drained from my mother’s face. She reached for my hand, but I snatched it away. “How can you be so ungrateful!” she exclaimed, her voice rising. “When have I ever shown favoritism?” “Your sister gave you something she loves, and you’re still not happy? This is about sisterly love, Chloe, why can’t you understand that?” “We only have so much money! Of course it has to be spent where it counts! Zoe’s tutoring is expensive, and she needs to socialize with her friends. All of that costs money! You’re just a student, what do you need such nice things for anyway?” I looked at her as if she were a stranger. “So only Zoe’s needs are what ‘counts’?” I kept pushing, my voice growing louder with every question. My mother’s face burned with humiliation under the curious stares of our relatives. Finally, she broke. “Enough!” she shrieked. “You think I didn’t want to buy you things?” “I never saved that money for your laptop! The minute Zoe mentioned at the dinner table that she saw people riding horses on TV and thought it looked cool, I signed her up for equestrian lessons!” “It was over a hundred dollars a lesson! That money was gone in a flash!” She glared at me, her eyes red and furious, the truth finally spilling out in a torrent of resentment. “‘I’ll make it up to you next year’—it was all a lie! Where was I supposed to get that kind of money? With two kids, I could only afford to focus on one of you! What else was I supposed to do?” 2 After that disastrous birthday party, a heavy silence fell over the house for days. The moment I got home from school, I’d lock myself in my room. I remembered when we were little, even choosing where to go on weekends was supposed to be a rotation. Odd weeks were my choice, even weeks were Zoe’s. But whenever it was my turn and I’d say I wanted to go to the science museum, my mom would claim the forecast called for rain. If I suggested the library, she’d say it was too stuffy and that children needed open spaces. Then she’d turn to my sister. “Zoe, didn’t you want to go to the amusement park again?” Zoe would nod enthusiastically. And Mom would pat my shoulder. “You’re the older sister by a few minutes, Chloe. You have to be the sensible one and let her have her way. Look how much she wants to go.” And just like that, my odd weeks became Zoe’s even weeks, time and time again. “Sensible.” That word was a leash she’d kept around my neck my whole life. A few days later, my mom knocked on my door. She was holding a shoebox containing the limited-edition sneakers I’d been dreaming of for months. She pushed the box into my hands, a placating smile on her face. “Mom knows she was wrong. Don’t be angry anymore. Look, I bought you the shoes you wanted for so long.” A part of me softened. I opened the box. The sneakers were beautiful, exactly like the ones I wanted. I tried them on. They fit perfectly. My mom watched me, a look of relief washing over her. “Happy now?” I didn’t answer, but the anger inside me had begun to subside. That weekend, we had a family dinner with all the relatives. Zoe and I both wore our new sneakers. An aunt noticed. “Oh, look at you two! Matching shoes, how lovely! Those are hard to get ahold of these days, aren’t they?” My mom instantly perked up, her voice booming with pride. “You have no idea! I had to pull strings with several friends just to get my hands on them. They were incredibly expensive!” She shot me a pointed look, making sure to lecture me in front of everyone. “You hear that, Chloe? Your mother thinks of you. This time, it was your turn, and I came through. You need to learn not to be so petty, don’t make a fuss with me over every little thing.” My hand, reaching for a piece of food, froze mid-air. I looked down at the sneakers on my feet, then over at Zoe’s. On Zoe’s pair, the logo’s edges were perfectly crisp, and the leather had a distinct sheen. Mine, after only a few days of wear, already had a faint crease forming at the toe. Something was wrong. A fire ignited in my gut, roaring all the way to my head. I put down my chopsticks and stood up. Everyone stared at me. Without a word, I bent down and pulled the fake sneaker off my foot. Then I walked over to Zoe. She flinched, trying to shrink away from me. I pointed at her feet. “Take it off.” My mother’s face went white. “What are you doing now? Are you trying to bully your sister in front of everyone?” I ignored her and repeated to Zoe, “Take it off.” Zoe was frozen, so I did it myself, yanking the authentic sneaker right off her foot. I carried the two shoes—one real, one fake—back to the dining table. I placed them side-by-side in the center for all to see. “Everyone, take a good look,” I said, my eyes fixed on my mother. “You said you pulled strings with friends? Tell me, which friend sold you this one? Look at the stitching, the glue. Now look at Zoe’s. Do you take everyone here for a fool?” The table fell silent. The relatives craned their necks to get a better view. The difference between the real and the counterfeit was glaringly obvious. My mother stared at me for a few seconds before her face crumpled and she burst into tears. She didn’t mention the shoes. Instead, she pointed an accusing finger at me, her voice choked with sobs. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You just had to humiliate me in front of the whole family!” “After everything I’ve done to raise you, you make a scene over something so trivial! All my hard work, completely wasted!” She cried as if she were the one who had been deeply wronged. “They look better on your sister anyway! Her feet are smaller, the style suits her. Your feet are so big, even the real ones wouldn’t look as good on you!” “I ran all over town to find a decent copy for you! Do you think fakes are free? I was thinking of you, trying to make sure you had a pair too, and this is how you repay me? You turn around and bite the hand that feeds you!” She turned to our relatives, her voice thick with anguish. “Tell me, what did I do wrong? I gave them both something, what more does she want? She’s always been like this, ever since she was a little girl. She can’t stand to see her sister have anything nice!” Her gaze snapped back to me, her voice rising to a shriek as she pointed at the shoes on the table. “Besides, they’re just shoes! You wear them on your feet, not on your head! Who’s going to get down on their knees and check if they’re real or fake? You have something to wear, and that should be enough! Why are you so obsessed with the details?” 3 My uncle, who had been examining the shoes, cleared his throat. “Alright now, let’s talk this out calmly. This is no way to treat your mother.” Another relative chimed in, “Exactly. Your mother has sacrificed so much for you. Don’t break her heart like this.” No one mentioned the shoes anymore. Suddenly, I was the one in the wrong. I didn’t say another word. That night, I went back to my room and started packing my things into a suitcase. My high school offered dorms, and I had applied long ago, but my mother had always forbidden it. Now, I was done listening to her. I left in the middle of the night with just a few changes of clothes and my textbooks. The dorm supervisor took pity on me and set me up in an empty storage closet with nothing but a bare bed frame. I huddled under my own jacket, unable to sleep a wink. At dawn, my phone rang. It was my dad. It was the first time he had called me since the birthday party. It was noisy on his end; it sounded like he was playing cards. “I heard you’ve been causing trouble at home again,” he said without any preamble. “Go home and apologize to your mother. You hear me?” “She gave me fake shoes, and you want me to apologize?” I asked. He was impatient. “It’s a pair of shoes, for God’s sake. Is it worth all this drama? You’re going to make your mother sick. I’m telling you, go home right now, or you won’t get another cent from me.” He hung up. I checked my bank app. Available balance: $7.35. I went downstairs and bought two plain buns for a dollar. That was my food for the day. A few days later, one of my mom’s closest friends, a Mrs. Davis, came to find me at school. She held my hand and went on and on about how difficult my mother’s life was, raising two children all by herself. She was carrying a thermos. “Your mother’s blood pressure is acting up. She’s stuck in bed, but she was worried you weren’t eating, so she had me bring you some soup.” She opened it, and the smell of a pork rib soup I hated filled the air. “Your mother still loves you, Chloe. She’s just proud. If you give her a way out of this, it’ll all blow over.” I looked at her. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll go home. On one condition.” A smile bloomed on Mrs. Davis’s face. “Tell me. I’ll help you talk to your mom.” “When I was fourteen, my mother owed me a laptop. If she buys me one now, I’ll go back. I’m not picky about the brand, as long as it works.” The smile vanished from Mrs. Davis’s face. “How can you be so selfish! Your mother is sick, and you’re trying to blackmail her with this? She doesn’t have that kind of spare cash! Are you trying to put her in the hospital?” I didn’t go home. Instead, I wrote everything down. From the laptop at fourteen to the glasses at sixteen, and finally, the broken phone at eighteen. Next to my list, I detailed Zoe’s Disney summer camp, her international art classes, and her brand-new iPhone. Shortly after I posted it online, Zoe called me, sobbing. “Chloe, why would you post that? Everyone at school has seen it, they’re all asking me about it! How could you humiliate us like this?” “How about we trade?” I asked. She went silent. “You can have this cracked phone, and I’ll go to Disney next time. You can live in a storage closet and eat stale bread while you wait for a laptop that will never come, and I’ll use your iPhone. Do we have a deal?” She didn’t say another word. After a moment, she hung up. The post started getting a lot of attention. That evening, I got a call from an unknown number. It was my aunt Carol, my dad’s sister. She was a successful businesswoman in another city, and we hadn’t seen each other in years. She didn’t waste time with small talk. “Are your things packed?” I was confused. “What?” “I’ve booked you a seat on the first train out tomorrow morning. I got your ID number from your father. I’m texting you my address. You’re coming to live with me. I’ll help you figure things out with your school once you get here.” 4 The day after I arrived at my aunt’s house, she took me shopping. She bought me a brand-new, top-of-the-line laptop, a new phone, and several new outfits. My hands trembled as I held the laptop. Aunt Carol patted my back. “This is what you should have had all along. From now on, if you need anything, you tell me.” For the first time in my life, I had my own room, a big desk, and a balcony that got plenty of sunlight. I set up the new computer, turned it on, and logged into the website for the coding camp I’d always dreamed of attending. My mom had always said it was too expensive and useless for a girl. Aunt Carol transferred me the money on the spot. “If you want to learn, then learn. It’s always good for a girl to have skills of her own.” A few days later, Zoe messaged me. It was the first time she had ever reached out to me. She asked if I was settling in okay, if Aunt Carol was being good to me. After a few pleasantries, she got to the point. “Hey, so I’m getting ready for this big national youth painting competition. It would be a huge boost for my college applications.” I didn’t reply. She sent another message. “I heard Aunt Carol works in publishing and knows a lot of the judges. I was wondering… could you put in a good word for me? Just tell her I’m really talented and ask if she could recommend me.” I stared at the words and almost laughed. So now that she needed something, I was her sister again. I typed back a simple reply: “Can’t help you.” She immediately sent a voice message, her tone frantic. “Why not, Chloe? We’re sisters, you’re supposed to help me! This is really important!” I typed my response. “Aunt Carol just paid for a very expensive coding camp for me. I don’t want to bother her for anything else.” I paused, then added one more line. “It’s the same camp I needed the laptop for back then, to work on my competition project. The one Mom said we couldn’t afford. Remember?” “By the way, how much is the entry fee for your competition? If you’re short on cash, you could always sell that Louis Vuitton bag of yours. That should cover it.” A few days later, I was in my room reviewing materials for the camp when the doorbell rang. Aunt Carol went to answer it. I heard my mother’s loud voice booming from downstairs. “I’m here to see my daughter! A mother misses her child, is there something wrong with that?” Aunt Carol didn’t let them in. “I’m sorry,” she said calmly, “but she’s doing very well here. She needs to study right now and can’t have visitors.” My mother’s voice got even louder. “Visitors? I’m her mother! What do you mean you’re hiding her from me? Are you trying to turn my own daughter against me?” I walked to the window and looked down. Seeing that she wasn’t getting in, my mother plopped herself down on the edge of a planter in the complex courtyard. Zoe stood beside her, looking mortified. Then, my mother started slapping her knees and wailing. “What have I done to deserve this! I worked my fingers to the bone to raise that girl, and the moment she grows wings, she disowns me!” Neighbors started coming out to see what the commotion was about. My mother’s cries grew louder as she played to the audience. “My younger daughter, she’s a gifted artist! She has a huge competition coming up, and all she wanted was for her sister to put in a good word with a relative. But her? She won’t even help! She just throws us out!” She pointed up at my window. “She’s moved up in the world now, you see! She’s too good for us! But her sister is a genius, and she is obligated to help her! It’s her duty as an older sister! If she refuses, she’ll be ruining her sister’s life! What kind of monster does that to her own flesh and blood?” Zoe tugged at her arm, begging her to stop. My mom shoved her away. “Leave me alone! I want everyone to hear this! I’m a mother, and I have to treat my children equally! She must help you!” I stood behind the curtain, watching the circus unfold below. My mother was putting on a show, wiping at her dry eyes with her sleeve, but her gaze kept darting toward my aunt’s front door. She was watching for a reaction. She wasn’t here for Zoe’s competition. She was terrified that with Aunt Carol as my new supporter, I was no longer under her control. She was here to drag me back into her drama. Aunt Carol came upstairs and stood beside me. “Do you want me to go down there and make them leave?” I shook my head, my eyes still on the wailing woman below. “No,” I said. “Let her make a scene.”

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Eight years, six months, and twenty-five days. That’s how long Landon and I were together. And then, we weren’t. It ended because of his phone. He placed it face down on the table while we were having dinner. The buzz of a notification vibrated against the wood, sounding like a countdown to the end of us. I put down my fork. “Landon, I think we should break up.” The man across from me, the man I’d loved for nearly a decade, let out a breath he looked like he’d been holding forever. He didn’t even bother with a token “why?” “Okay,” he said. Just like that. The charade was over. All because of a stupid, grand promise he’d made back in high school, in front of everyone at a pep rally. “Chloe,” he’d yelled into the microphone, “I will never, ever be the one to break up with you.” And he wasn’t. He just waited for me to do it. 1 It took him less than ten minutes to pack his things. It was like he’d already rehearsed it in his head, a mental checklist of what was his and what could be left behind. What was worth taking, and what was just sentimental junk. Just like our relationship. The cracks had been showing for months. But because of that damn promise, he kept playing the part of the devoted partner. The perfect, twenty-four-seven boyfriend. He’d bring me flowers, rub my feet, tell me he loved me. His body could go through the motions. His heart? Not so much. I saw it in the little things. The way his lips would curl into a private smile when he was looking at his phone. The way he’d absentmindedly recommend a different brand of tampons at the store, saying, “This one has better leak protection,” even though I’d used the same brand for years. He even started getting into cooking—fancy, complicated dishes I never liked. I watched him, piece by piece, un-love me. The final straw wasn’t the phone. It was him forgetting the anniversary of my mom’s death. So, I said the words. And he agreed. So quickly it felt like a dream. A nightmare. 2 Less than an hour after he walked out, my friend sent me a link to an Instagram Reel. It was Landon, his arm wrapped around his new girlfriend, both of them laughing into the camera. The caption was a simple heart emoji. My hand tightened around my phone. Of course. It was her. The new intern from work. Jenna. The one who followed me around like a puppy, her voice always saccharine sweet. “Chloe, you’re a lifesaver! I just don’t get these spreadsheets, can you show me one more time?” “Don’t you worry about a thing on your business trip, Chloe! I’ll totally watch your cat!” “Oh my gosh, Chloe, just go! So your boyfriend has a little stomach bug and is in the hospital for a few days? He’s a big boy! I can totally bring him some soup, it’s no problem at all!” I stared down at the cold, greasy takeout on my coffee table. A wave of nausea rolled through me, hot and acidic. I barely made it to the bathroom before I was retching, heaving until there was nothing left. Disgusting. They were both so disgusting. 3 I called in sick for three days. After Landon left, the vomiting didn’t stop. At first, I thought it was just a visceral reaction to the double-barreled betrayal from my boyfriend and my protégé. But then, when I tried to clean up the kitchen, the smell of leftover salmon sent me running back to the toilet. A dark, cold dread settled in my stomach. I went to the drugstore downstairs and bought a pregnancy test. Two bright pink lines stared back at me, mocking me. The world went a little fuzzy at the edges. Isn’t that hilarious? Just two weeks ago, Landon had pulled me into bed, his hands and mouth everywhere. We’d made love all night, a desperate, almost frantic kind of energy between us. “Chloe,” he’d whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “Let’s have a baby.” We didn’t use protection that time. What a coincidence. I squeezed my eyes shut. It took me three full days to even begin to process the fact that Landon was gone. My hand drifted to my stomach, a gesture I didn’t even recognize. I’m sorry, little one. You weren’t wanted. You were a tool. You were never meant to exist. 4 My friend Sarah called, trying to drag me out for drinks with the group. “Come on,” she’d said. “You can’t just rot in your apartment.” She was right. Three days of marinating in my own misery was enough to suffocate anyone. Getting out sounded good. I just didn’t expect him to be there. And I really didn’t expect him to bring her. He cornered me near the bar, his new girlfriend hiding behind his arm like a frightened deer. “Chloe,” he said, his voice low and firm. “What happened between us is in the past.” He glanced back at Jenna, then looked at me again. “Jenna’s not like you. She’s… innocent. Her feelings get hurt easily. Don’t pull any of your corporate power-play crap on her.” I set my wine glass down on the counter. This was all just so, so pathetic. 5 The moment Landon said those words, a hush fell over our friends. They all just stared, their faces a mixture of pity and embarrassment for me. I looked at Landon, at this man I had spent almost a third of my life with, and felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. As if on cue, Jenna flinched and shrank further behind him. Landon’s jaw tightened, and he pulled her closer, shielding her. “This isn’t the office, Chloe,” he warned. “Don’t treat her like one of your underlings.” Hah. A small, sharp laugh escaped my lips. I picked up my jacket from the back of the chair. “I already paid the tab. You guys have fun.” I turned to leave. “I’m out.” As I walked past, I saw a flicker of something complicated in Landon’s eyes. Regret? Doubt? It was gone before I could be sure. My phone rang as I was waiting for my Uber. It was him. “Chloe, you’re a reasonable person,” he started, no preamble. “I hope what happened with us isn’t going to affect Jenna’s job. Don’t make things hard for her at the company.” My car pulled up to the curb. I hung up without a word. 6 Jenna was the new intern. Fresh out of college, always trying so hard, but messing things up in that way that only someone with zero real-world experience can. I was tough on her, sure, but I also felt for her. I’d see her crying quietly in a bathroom stall and it was like looking at a ghost of my younger self. So I took her under my wing. I bought her a decent blazer for a client meeting she was nervous about. Sometimes, when Landon and I had a dinner date, I’d bring her along just so she could have a nice meal. When did it change? When did they start building their own little world, right under my nose? Was it that time Landon was sick and I was out of town, and I asked her to drop off some cold medicine? Or was it during that big project launch, when he was hospitalized with that stomach bug and she volunteered to bring him “healthy, home-cooked meals” every single day? I never suspected a thing. I just thought their easy rapport, the way they finished each other’s sentences, was because they had similar tastes. Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. 7 The alarm went off right on schedule. The adult world doesn’t pause for heartbreak. Even if your life has imploded, you have a finite amount of time to grieve before you have to get up and go to work. Three days off was a luxury. Today, even if the building was on fire, I had to be there. I looked at my reflection. Dark, bruised circles hung under my eyes. But I put on my best power suit and did my makeup with extra care. Today was supposed to be my promotion party. Our director had quit a month ago, and she’d recommended me to the VP as her successor. My probation period was officially over yesterday. All signs pointed to the VP announcing my promotion today. People were already joking in the group chat about me buying the first round of drinks. We’d all planned to go to that new trendy tapas place tonight. My treat. But when I walked into the office, the vibe was… weird. People looked at me with a strange mix of pity and discomfort, then quickly looked away. I had a bad feeling. Just as I sat down at my desk, Jenna walked in. She was wearing a brand-new designer dress, looking like she owned the place. Two assistants followed her, their arms loaded with coffee carriers from the expensive place down the street. She clapped her hands together, a bright, fake smile on her face. “Good morning, everyone! You’ve all been working so hard, so tonight, drinks are on me! Don’t make any plans!” The assistants started handing out the coffees. Everyone got one. Except, of course, for me. I already knew what was coming. Jenna finally seemed to notice me, her eyes widening in mock surprise. “Oh, Chloe! I didn’t see you there! I’m so sorry, I thought you were still out sick, so I didn’t get you one.” She walked over, holding out her own cup. “Here, I haven’t touched this. You can have mine, if you don’t mind.” I didn’t move to take it. She pressed the cup into my hand, and the second my fingers brushed against the cardboard sleeve, she let go. The cup exploded on the floor, splashing hot coffee all over my shoes and the hem of my pants. “Chloe, what the hell?” Before I could even speak, a hand shoved me back. Landon. He’d appeared out of nowhere, pulling Jenna back and inspecting her as if she were made of glass. “Are you okay? Did you get burned?” he asked, his voice thick with concern. “Oh my god, look! Chloe’s hand is red!” one of my coworkers gasped. Landon’s eyes darted to my hand, which was stinging from the splash. But before he could process it, Jenna tugged on his sleeve, her eyes welling up with perfectly formed tears. “I’m fine, Landon, really. Don’t be mad at Chloe, she just… she didn’t get a good grip on it. It was an accident…” she whispered, trailing off into a pathetic little sniffle. His gaze on me turned to ice. He turned back to Jenna, stroking her hair. “You’re too nice. You’re going to get taken advantage of if you keep being like this.” Jenna beamed up at him, a tiny, triumphant smile playing on her lips. They walked away, their heads close together, whispering. I just stood there, watching them. So that’s how it works. Love doesn’t die. It just gets transferred. The same care, the same concern, the same protective instinct Landon had shown me for eight years… he just copied and pasted it onto someone new. 8 At five o’clock, I was sitting in the VP’s office. I’d been with this company for seven years. I was there when we were a five-person startup in a cramped office, and I helped build it into what it is today. I’ve left my blood, sweat, and tears on every floor of this building. That Director position? I had earned it. The VP, a man I respected, couldn’t even look me in the eye. He rubbed his temples. “Chloe, I know. You’re a cornerstone of this company. But you have to understand…” He paused, then sighed, as if giving up. “Knightley Tech just signed a massive contract with us. Massive. It’s enough to set us up for the next five years. Chloe… you can’t fight a tidal wave. Do you understand what I’m saying?” My eyes dropped to the floor. Knightley Tech. Landon’s family company. Of course. 9 My hands, resting in my lap, started to tremble. I knew the VP was in a tough spot. To save myself the humiliation of breaking down in front of him, I just nodded and walked out of his office. By now, the office was mostly empty. I locked myself in a bathroom stall and finally let the sobs come, ugly and silent. Landon’s break-up-by-proxy was one thing. I could handle that. But this… this was a whole new level of cruel. Having my promotion, the one thing I had worked myself to the bone for, handed to her on a silver platter because Landon had flexed his family’s muscle… that broke me. He knew. He knew how many all-nighters I’d pulled, how much I had sacrificed for that job. And in the end, he was the one who stuck the knife in my back. “Do you think Chloe will actually go to Jenna’s party tonight?” I heard a voice say from the sink area. “No way! But man, if she does, it’s gonna be a show,” another voice laughed. “It’s so messed up, though. The whole thing is wild.” “What’s to be surprised about? She was the tech heir’s girlfriend, so the company kissed her ass. Now he’s bored, so the promotion goes to the new girl. That’s how it works.” The first voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “Did you hear what he told Mark? He said he was bored. Said that touching her was like his left hand holding his right hand.” “Oh, god, that’s brutal. He said sleeping with her was like doing a chore? Ouch. Hahahaha!” CRACK. The sound of the stall door slamming open made them both jump. They turned, and their faces went pale when they saw me. “Ch-Chloe?” 10 I walked slowly to the sink and washed my hands, taking my time. I looked at their terrified reflections in the mirror. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. “Want to try your luck with Landon’s hand, too?” They practically tripped over each other scrambling out of the bathroom. “Tch. Whatever,” one of them muttered as they fled. I pulled a crumpled cigarette out of my purse and lit it, inhaling deeply. The smoke swirled and dissipated in front of my face. Landon hadn’t changed at all. When he likes someone, he spoils them rotten. One day, he’s warning me not to use my position to bully his precious Jenna. The next, he’s using his family’s corporate might to crush me for her. This world is so goddamn screwed up. 11 When I walked out of the building, a sleek, black Tesla was parked illegally at the curb. I knew that car. Landon was leaning against the driver’s side door, smoking. He saw me and gestured for me to come over. I hesitated for a second, then walked toward him. Only when I got closer did I see her. Jenna. Sitting in the passenger seat. My seat. I remembered all the times she’d stood right where I was standing now, looking at me in that seat with wide, envious eyes. “Your boyfriend is so amazing, Chloe.” “You have to watch out for all the snakes trying to steal him, Chloe! Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out for you!” I flashed back to a few months ago. I saw Landon’s car parked downstairs and assumed he was surprising me. But then Jenna rushed past me like a blur, pulling open the passenger door and starting to climb in. I called her name, and she froze. For a split second, I saw panic in her eyes before she smoothed it over, closing the door. “Oh, Chloe! I thought you were already in there!” she’d said, linking her arm through mine. “I was just going to ask if you wanted to grab dinner!” Landon’s expression had been perfectly neutral. The flicker of suspicion I felt vanished as quickly as it came. God, I wasn’t just blind. I was willfully stupid. Now, Jenna smiled at me from her perch. “Hey, Chloe.” My eyes scanned the interior of the car. Everything was different. The custom gray leather seats we’d picked out together were gone, replaced with some hideous baby-pink version. The passenger seat had a fluffy, sequined pillow propped against it. The faded Polaroid from our first road trip that I’d tucked into the sun visor was gone. In its place on the dashboard was a pair of ceramic swans, their necks intertwined. And stuck to the glove compartment was a strip of photo-booth pictures of Landon and Jenna making kissy faces. Next to it, in bubbly pink vinyl letters, was a sticker: [Jenna’s Throne] Jenna saw me looking. A smug little smile played on her lips. “Sorry, Chloe,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Old things just have to be tossed out, you know? They get worn out.” She tilted her head. “Cute pictures, right?” And for the first time in days, I felt something other than pain or rage. I suddenly laughed.

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The day Hollywood’s golden boy announced his wedding, the biggest star in the world spent the entire night smoking on her balcony. I leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on my face. “You should go crash the wedding.” Stella stubbed out her cigarette and curled into my arms. Her fingers traced the long, faded scar on my forearm—a souvenir from the time I took a knife for her. “You big idiot,” she whispered. “Don’t you have any faith in yourself?” Two days later, a friend at TMZ sent me a video. It was Stella, on a stage, tears streaming down her face as she and Ethan Cole kissed, a crowd roaring around them. That’s when the System came back online. Its voice was full of pity. I managed to get you a special offer. For just one dollar, you can continue to live… as Stella’s husband. I walked to the edge of the pier and tossed a dollar coin into the dark, churning water. “No, thanks.” It was only later that I heard the stories. How the great Stella Vance was squandering her fortune and her sanity, trying to dredge the entire Pacific coastline. All to find a single coin. 1 When the black Escalade came for me, I happened to be clutching a dollar coin in my hand. The System, silent for years, flickered back to life in my mind. Its voice was tinny, laced with a digital sob. I got you a deal! For just one dollar, you can keep living as Stella’s husband. My mind flashed back to last night, to Stella on the balcony. She was at the top of her game now. She didn’t need to chain-smoke her anxieties away anymore. It had to be about Ethan Cole’s engagement. I saw her out there, a lonely silhouette against the LA skyline. “You should go crash the wedding,” I’d teased. She turned, stepping out of the shadows. Her beautiful face, always so cool and distant to the rest of the world, softened for me. Her fingers found the scar on my arm. “You big idiot,” she’d murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. “What crazy things are you thinking?” “That you’ll run off with him,” I said, no filter. Her smile widened, brilliant and blinding. She threw her arms around my neck. “If I left a man like you for him, I’d be the stupidest woman alive. So, don’t leave me tonight, okay?” Stella had been busy. Her new production company was taking off. She was always out late, handling “emergencies.” “Deal,” I’d said, forcing a smile so wide it hurt, hoping it would hide the sadness in my eyes. “Even if the studio explodes, I’m not going anywhere.” But I didn’t have any hope. Not really. Not when Ethan Cole was so sure of himself. An Instagram DM had appeared earlier that day, from a burner account. Wanna bet? I snap my fingers, she comes running. I’d replied politely. Who is this? You need me to introduce myself? Come on, charity case. We’ve met. At the group home. In your bed. 2 Those words froze me to the couch. He knew everything. He knew I was the dirty, clumsy kid from the foster system that no one ever wanted. Why are you telling me this? I typed back. I’m just trying to have a relationship here, and your constant neediness is a pain in my ass. Every time there’s a thunderstorm in LA, she has to drop everything and run home to you. It’s nothing personal. I just find it annoying. So, I’m getting rid of the annoyance. I clenched my jaw just as the front door opened. Stella swept in, looking radiant. “Liam, did you miss me?” she asked, her tone so casual, like she was just getting home from a long day at the office. But I saw it. One of the silk ribbons on her dress was torn. And in the photo Ethan had just sent me, I could see the faint flush on her cheek, the look she got when she was… moved. A flash of lightning split the sky outside. Stella’s phone began to buzz incessantly. This was his bet. He wanted me to see, with my own eyes, who she would choose. And deep down, in that old, insecure part of me that never really went away, I knew I would lose. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me close. But her body was stiff. “Liam,” she said softly. “Have you ever thought that hiding from your fears isn’t a long-term solution?” I knew what she meant. “The day I pulled you out of that collapsed building, I watched lightning strike my best friend right in front of me.” I was terrified of loud noises, of that raw, natural power that could erase a person in an instant. I only ever had two real friends in the system. One of them was gone. Now, there was only Stella. She turned my face to hers, her gaze intense. “Liam, you need to grow up. The company is at a critical stage. You want me to be free from that horrible studio contract, right? This company is my hope. It’s our future.” I had always supported her, in everything. But for once, I was selfish. “I don’t want you to go,” I whispered. Her phone kept vibrating. A flicker of impatience crossed her features, so fast I might have imagined it. “Just think about it, Liam.” She stood up and started texting. She didn’t know that Ethan was screenshotting everything and sending it to me. Ethan: Not on your way yet? Stella: He’s throwing a tantrum. Ethan: The kid who used to drink out of the toilet at the group home is throwing a tantrum? Wow. Look, Stella, if you can’t make it, it’s fine. I’ll just let my psycho fiancée keep trying to break down the door. She probably won’t actually stab me. This is America, after all. Stella: [Weary emoji] I’ve spoiled him. I’ll teach him to be more independent. Don’t be scared. I’m on my way. She put her phone down just as I finished reading. “I’ll be back to make you your favorite dinner,” she promised. She pulled on her jacket, but paused at the door and came back to plant a light, cool kiss on my forehead. The door clicked shut. Hello, Liam, the System’s voice echoed in my head. I’m sorry we have to meet again. I never seem to bring good news. I wanted to hug it, this strange, sad entity. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” It’s not your fault, either, it replied, its voice clear and kind. 3 The next day was my birthday. For the first time ever, Stella wasn’t there. I texted her. Eight hours later, she replied with a photo of herself smiling brightly next to a street sign in Paris. Stella: Paris is beautiful, Liam. When I’m done with this, I’ll take you here. We’ll celebrate your birthday then. I texted back: Okay. But the photo wasn’t from today. Minutes earlier, my friend from TMZ had sent me the video. “Married actress crashes A-lister’s wedding. Funniest shit I’ve ever seen. That snake Ethan Cole didn’t even need to marry that girl—her family’s company just went bankrupt. He did this on purpose, trending on Twitter for weeks about his tragic, arranged marriage. Fucking drama queen.” In the video, Stella and Ethan Cole were kissing, sobbing in each other’s arms, surrounded by a cheering crowd. I’d recognized Ethan the first time I saw him on screen. People are haunted by what they couldn’t have in their youth. For Stella, he was that. One year, a senator’s son came to stay at our group home for a month as a charity project. That was Ethan. Stella, who was usually my shadow, barely spoke to me the entire time. I thought he was just a passing phase. I was wrong. He was the moon she could never reach. And I was just the familiar, boring earth she was stuck on. While Stella was kissing Ethan in front of the world, I was walking down the street, trying to buy myself a birthday cake. When the Escalade mounted the curb and accelerated toward me, I just stood there. I didn’t even move. How can the punishment be happening ahead of schedule? the System asked, confused. “It’s okay,” I told it. “I got to live a lot longer than I was supposed to. I saw some beautiful things.” That day the lightning struck, it hit me, too. I had thrown myself over Stella to protect her. That’s when the System first appeared. It told me to choose one person. If I could make them fall in love with me, I could live. I chose Stella. We’d survived the system together, clinging to each other. It seemed like the safest, most certain path in the world. In this last moment, I realized my mistake. Love isn’t that simple. The System tearfully froze time. A moment later, its light pulsed. I got you one last chance. For one dollar. You can keep living as Stella’s husband. But… you will be bound to her, forever. Once, that would have been a temptation. But I had grown up. “No, thanks,” I said. The coin was still in my hand. The ocean was fifty feet away. I arched my arm and threw it as far as I could. Time resumed. The pain of the impact was as searing as the lightning had been all those years ago. Unfortunately, I didn’t die instantly. In the flash of agony, I thought I saw my old friend Maya. The ambulance ride was a blur of siren wails and the suffocating smell of antiseptic. I heard her voice, desperate and sharp, talking to the other paramedics. “Patient is in cardiac arrest, starting chest compressions…” 4 Stella called my phone more than a dozen times. I was in surgery, so I couldn’t answer. After the first round of resuscitation, Maya found my phone buzzing on a gurney outside the OR. She answered the latest call. “It’s just a business arrangement, Liam, why can’t you accept that?” Stella’s voice was impatient, angry. “Ethan and I are tied together by our careers now. This isn’t like when we were kids anymore.” She paused, taking a ragged breath. “This isn’t a world where you can solve everything with your fists.” She still remembered me fighting the other kids who called her a bastard, the daughter of a homewrecker. She’d arrived at the home like a princess, a tiny, perfect doll in a frilly dress, stepping out of her billionaire father’s limousine. Then, one day, she was just one of us. Her father’s wife had found out about her, and her mother was dead. He’d dumped her in the system to keep her from threatening his legitimate daughter’s inheritance. Was her obsession with Ethan just a longing for the life that was stolen from her? Maya tried to tell her what was happening, but the light above the OR door flashed red again. “Dr. Chen!” a nurse yelled. “Patient’s unresponsive, exhibiting neurological signs, he’s crashing!” Maya dropped the phone and ran back inside. On the other end of the line, Stella heard only silence. “Liam? Why aren’t you saying anything?” She stared at the screen for a long moment, then sighed and hung up. Ethan glanced at her, a smirk on his face. “Giving you the silent treatment? You give a weed too much sunlight, it starts to think it’s a rose.” “He’s—” Stella hesitated. “He’s different.” “So, what do you want? Your career, or a normal life with him? Have you figured that out yet?” Ethan sneered. “Today he’s posting pity-bait about how I’m bullying him. Tomorrow he’ll leak that you’re sleeping with him. It’s the truth, but the public doesn’t care about the truth. To them, you’re just a liar.” Stella stared out the window, a headache blooming behind her eyes. The phone rang again. It was Maya, calling from my number. Stella answered immediately. “Liam, about before, I—” “The night you and Liam signed your marriage certificate,” Maya’s voice cut in, cold and precise. “What was the celestial event?” Stella froze, racking her brain. The voice was familiar. “Maya?” she asked, her own voice turning to ice. “Where’s Liam? Why do you have his phone? Where are you?” Stella had always hated Maya, always been terrified I would choose her instead. Maya ignored the jealous fit. “I’m asking you a question. The night you registered your marriage, what happened in the sky? Please, just answer the question.” “Are you insane, Maya? Why are you asking me that? Doesn’t Liam know? Who the hell do you think you are?” “STELLA!” Maya’s voice cracked with a fury Stella had never heard before. “He and I are just friends, you fucking paranoid bitch! What was the event in the sky?! We’re out of time!” The raw desperation in Maya’s voice stunned her into silence. The night they got their marriage license— I knew Stella wouldn’t be able to answer. That night, there was a solar eclipse. A sun in the night sky. But Stella was in London. Ethan had staged a suicide attempt to get her on a plane. When she came back, exhausted and stressed, she had no idea what she’d missed. I’d asked her, “Stella, did you see the sun last night?” She’d just rubbed her tired eyes. “It was raining in London,” she’d said. “Overcast.” An answer that was not an answer. I was talking about LA. She was talking about London. 5 In the final moments of the countdown, Maya wanted to fly across the world and strangle Stella. I was confused. The System had never given second chances before. Maybe it was new at this, not yet immune to human tragedy. It had given Maya the instructions. Call Stella. Ask the question. Thirty seconds. If she answers correctly, Liam lives. No hints. No other questions. Just this. Maya thought it was a sure thing. What woman wouldn’t remember the night she got married? Even she knew about the eclipse; it had been all over the news. But Stella wasn’t here. She wasn’t even looking at the same sky. “God damn you, Stella,” Maya whispered into the phone. “I hope you regret this for the rest of your life.” Time’s up, the System announced. Answer incorrect. The phone slipped from Maya’s hand. Through the window of the OR, she saw the head surgeon pull off his mask and shake his head. She heard the long, flat beep of the monitor, a sound that seemed to stretch into eternity. From the phone on the floor, Stella’s tinny voice asked, “Let me talk to Liam.” Maya started to laugh, tears splashing onto the sterile linoleum. “He’s dead,” she said, her voice hollow and calm.

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Six years after I cut off my parents, my adopted sister secretly reached out to my husband. She told him my parents missed me terribly and wanted nothing more than for our family to be whole again before it was too late. I traced the thin scar on my forehead. I got it when I was eight, the same day my sister slammed the piano lid on my fingers. My dad gave me the scar when I tried to hit her back. My husband, unable to bear the sight of my sister’s sad, pleading face, tried to reason with me. “Honey, that was so long ago. Just let it go.” My son, clutching a brand-new model airplane my parents had sent him, added his own ultimatum. “Mommy, I can’t live without my grandma and grandpa and Auntie Nora. You have to make up with them!” His little face was red with anger. “If you don’t, I don’t want you to be my mommy anymore!” A profound weariness washed over me. I gave a small, tired nod. “Okay.” 1 The moment I slid the divorce papers across the table, Mark’s face was a mask of disbelief. “You’re doing this? Just because I want you to reconcile with your parents?” “Yes,” I said. “Because of that.” “What about Leo? He’s only five. What’s supposed to happen to him?” Before I could answer, Leo charged at me like a little bull, ramming his head into my stomach. A sharp pain shot through me. “You’re evil, Mommy!” he shrieked. “Grandpa and Grandma didn’t raise you to be a monster!” I gritted my teeth against the pain, my voice cold. “Who taught you to talk like that?” Leo’s bravado wavered. He glanced nervously toward the hallway, where Nora was hiding just out of sight. She was the daughter of my dad’s army buddy, and we’d grown up together. “Oh, Sarah, it’s all my fault!” Nora stepped forward, her face a picture of innocence. “I was telling Leo the story of Snow White and the evil queen, and he must have picked up some of the bad words.” It was the same act she’d always pulled. The same damsel-in-distress routine that had caused me a lifetime of misery. And just like always, Mark and Leo rushed to her defense. “Sarah, you’re always so busy with work,” Mark said, his voice laced with disappointment. “You can’t blame Nora for helping take care of our son.” “I like Auntie Nora best!” Leo declared, sticking out his chin. “If you’re mean to her, I’m not gonna be your son anymore.” I hadn’t said a single word against her, but they were already leaping to her defense. I saw a flicker of triumph in Nora’s eyes, and the disgust and hatred I’d suppressed for years came boiling to the surface. 2 I was done talking. I pushed a pen toward Mark. “Sign it. Who you choose to be a son-in-law to is your business now.” His face fell. “Can you please stop being so dramatic? I just want our son to have more family in his life. They’re your own flesh and blood.” My head felt like it was going to explode. Flesh and blood. The day Nora came to live with us, my parents had said the same thing. “She’s only three months younger than you, Sarah. From now on, you have a sister. She’s your flesh and blood. You have to take care of her.” Back then, her name wasn’t Nora. My dad said her parents had died in a car crash, and that he was adopting her, giving her his name. She was so small, so fragile. I shared everything with her—my favorite books, the chocolates my dad brought home from his business trips, the new dresses my mom bought for me. “Can I really think of this as my home from now on?” Nora had asked, her eyes wide and innocent. I remembered my parents’ words and nodded. From that day on, my life became a living hell. She was always crying, always looking at me with a wounded expression. My parents assumed I was bullying her. They called me selfish and gave all my things to her. When I was six, my room became Nora’s room. My closet, filled with my dresses, became hers. When I was eight, the piano lessons I’d taken for four years were canceled. It was because Nora had “accidentally” slammed the lid on my fingers, breaking two of them. When I was twelve, my birthday party was canceled and turned into a celebration for Nora’s win at a dance competition. My cake was replaced with a mango-flavored one—her favorite. No one remembered that I was deathly allergic to mangoes. When I was eighteen, my parents refused to pay the entry fee for a prestigious math competition I’d qualified for. “We need to save that money to hire a better dance coach for Nora,” they’d said. When I was twenty-two, years of stress-induced malnutrition caught up with me. I had a severe stomach condition that required surgery. My parents refused to help, instead buying business-class tickets to Europe to accompany Nora to an international dance competition. I nearly collapsed on my way to the hospital. That’s when I met Mark. He was horrified by my story and swore he would protect me for the rest of my life. And now, six years later, he was the one pushing me back into their arms. 3 “I’m not signing this, Sarah,” Mark said, his jaw set. I ignored him and went to our bedroom to pack. In the back of the closet, hidden away, I found a stash of expensive gifts. A handcrafted tea set, a high-end massage chair for the elderly, a pair of designer ballet slippers. Mark rushed in, as if suddenly remembering. “What is this?” he asked, still clutching the divorce papers. He couldn’t meet my eyes. Leo ran in, holding his model airplane triumphantly. “Those are presents Daddy bought for Grandma and Grandpa and Auntie Nora!” he announced. “And that’s not all! But you don’t get anything ’cause you’re not a good girl, nya-nya-nya-nya-nya!” He stuck his tongue out, deliberately trying to provoke me. I took a slow step toward him. Nora immediately threw herself between us, shoving me hard. “Don’t you dare touch him! He’s their only grandchild. Even if you are his mother, you have no right to hit him.” That was it. I snapped. I grabbed her wrist and slapped her across the face, hard. “Aaaah, that hurts!” she shrieked, a theatrical, high-pitched wail. Leo immediately activated his smartwatch. “Mommy’s hitting Auntie Nora!” he yelled into the device. “Grandpa, Grandma, come quick and punish her!” He started to sob. “Mommy’s a psycho! I don’t want her to be my mommy anymore!” 4 I snatched the watch from his wrist. Of course. They had a group chat. Leo and his favorite people: Grandpa, Grandma, Daddy, and Auntie Nora. I was the only one left out. The chat history was a revelation. My son, who barely spoke to me about his day anymore, was telling them all about the new girl at his preschool. My husband, who was supposedly working late every night, was taking our son to “family dinners” several times a week. He’d used his bonus to pay for my parents’ annual checkups and to book Nora a two-week tour of Europe. Everyone in the group was so happy. My stern, unsmiling father was gushing about how his grandson was just like him, a great judge of character. My mother, always so easily swayed, was commenting on how handsome and capable Mark was, and what a shame it was that he hadn’t met Nora first. Nora, of course, was all coy sweetness, calling him “Marky” and filling the chat with blushing emojis. And Mark, my husband who hadn’t bought me a gift in years, was showering them all with praise and virtual red envelopes. “Honey, let me explain,” Mark stammered, insisting he’d only bought the gifts to pave the way for my reconciliation with them. “Nora isn’t as bad as you think. Why can’t you just try to get along with your parents?” Get along? I turned and slapped him, too. 5 Leo, seeing me strike his two favorite people, went berserk. He launched himself at me, kicking and punching. “Grandpa was right, you’re a devil! You broke your own fingers and blamed Auntie Nora! You deserve to have nobody love you!” he screamed. “Get out! Get out now! I don’t want you to be my mom! I like Auntie Nora better, and so does Grandpa and Grandma and Daddy!” I just stared at him, stunned. This was the child I had carried for nine months. I had pureed every spoonful of his baby food, bought every toy and book in this house, rocked him to sleep almost every night of his life. Five years of my heart and soul, and this is what I got in return. You deserve it. It hurt. More than I could say. “Leo,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I’m going to give you one chance to take that back.” “No! I hate you! I don’t want you to be my mom!” he yelled. “I want Auntie Nora! She’s prettier than you, and she can dance, and she gives me candy! I like her more than you!” I was strict about candy, trying to protect his teeth. Mark jumped in. “He’s just a kid, Sarah. Don’t take it so seriously.” In his mind, a mother’s love was unconditional. In his mind, he was doing what was best for me by forcing this reconciliation. This divorce, this ugliness, it was all my fault. But I was done. 6 “Sarah, why are you still so stubborn?” For a second, I thought I was dreaming. It was my father’s voice. The front door opened, and they walked in. I’d forgotten they still had the code. Leo’s face lit up. “Grandpa! Grandma! You’re finally here to punish Mommy!” Seeing them all standing there together, a happy little family unit, a chill went through me that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. My mother started to speak, a hint of apology in her eyes. “Sarah, six years ago, I didn’t know you were that sick…” But then she saw Nora, clutching her red, swollen cheek, and her expression hardened. “Honey, who did this to you?” she asked, her voice turning sharp, like a lioness protecting her cub. My father roared, “Who else? It had to be Sarah! Mark, get her out of this house, now! If she’s not taught a lesson, what’s to stop her from hurting my precious grandson next?” Mark, looking like a chastised schoolboy, tugged on my sleeve. “Honey, hitting people is wrong. Why don’t you just apologize?” He knew I was packed and ready to leave, and he was still waiting for me to be the one to back down. 7 I met Nora’s triumphant gaze and gave a bitter laugh. “Is it any piece of garbage I have? Do you just have to have it for yourself?” Her eyes widened in fake panic. “Sarah, what are you talking about? I don’t understand.” Suddenly, a hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back. “Sarah,” my father’s voice boomed in my ear, “I am ordering you to apologize. And don’t you dare threaten my good son-in-law with divorce. He works hard to support this family. If you want to leave, you can leave with nothing.” “Dad, this is between Sarah and me,” Mark said weakly. “Please don’t interfere.” “Hmph! If it wasn’t for her faking that illness back then, you never would have missed Nora’s performance,” my father sneered. “You two would probably be together by now.” I shot a sarcastic look at Mark. No wonder the photo he kept hidden in his desk—a picture of a ballerina’s silhouette on a stage—had always looked vaguely familiar. It was the girl who had captured his heart at first sight. He’d told me not to be jealous, that she didn’t even know he existed. The last flicker of feeling I had for him died. I signed the papers, grabbed my suitcase, and walked toward the door. Mark tried to stop me, but my parents held him back. Leo clung to his father’s leg. “Daddy, don’t listen to her! She’s just a housewife! She has nowhere to go without you! Grandma and Grandpa said she’ll come crawling back after a few days of being hungry!” While Mark hesitated, I walked out the door and didn’t look back.

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I’d been chasing Alex for eight years. On my ninety-ninth attempt at telling him how I felt, he finally said yes. The next day, he walked into a party with his arm around his new assistant and announced to everyone, “Surprise! Say hello to your new boss’s wife!” My friends shot me weird looks. They’d all seen me confess my feelings to him the day before. Before I could say anything, Alex let out a condescending laugh. “Oh, come on, Chloe. You didn’t actually think I was serious, did you? It was April Fools’ Day!” The assistant, a girl named Maya, feigned surprise. “Oh my god, Chloe, you actually believed him! That’s so sweet! But thank you for the flower. It’s really beautifully carved!” She held up a small, wooden rose. It was the first piece I’d ever successfully carved. Alex had begged me for it, and I’d finally given it to him. I’m not a patient person. The only two things I’d ever had endless patience for were my woodworking and Alex. But now, my patience had finally run out. 1 The entire room went silent. I ignored Maya and looked straight at Alex. “You think this is a joke, too?” He hadn’t expected me to be so serious. A flicker of guilt crossed his face before he covered it with a smirk. “Chloe, it was April Fools’. We all knew it was a joke.” “Yeah, Chloe! It was just a prank!” “Don’t be mad, Chloe. We didn’t think you’d actually take it seriously. Alex, you should have said something!” Our mutual friends, one by one, tried to smooth things over, but I could see the amusement in their eyes. The old me would have played along, laughed it off, and waited for the next opportunity to tell him how I felt. But the old me was gone. My patience was gone. “So, you all think this is a joke?” I asked, my voice cold. They shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. I walked over to Maya and looked at the wooden rose in her hand. I’d carved it when I was fifteen. It was my first real piece, and it meant the world to me. And now it was in her hands. Alex, still smirking, moved to shield his little protégée. I snatched the rose from her hand, snapped it in two, and threw the pieces on the floor. “What are you doing?! Alex gave that to me!” Maya shrieked. Alex’s brow furrowed, his voice sharp with anger. “Chloe!” I dusted the wood splinters from my hands. “It was mine to begin with,” I said calmly. “I can do whatever I want with it.” Alex scoffed. “Chloe, I threw this party to introduce Maya to everyone. Are you really going to ruin the whole night? If you don’t want to be here, then get out. Or, you can apologize to Maya, and I’ll let you stay.” In the eight years I’d been chasing him, I’d never once ruined his mood. Even when he’d hurt my feelings, I’d always waited to talk to him about it later. Before Maya, he would have gently stroked my hair and said, “I’m sorry, Chloe,” and made it all better. I gave him one last, long look and walked out of the room. The moment the door closed behind me, I heard her start to cry. “Alex, did I do something to upset her? She broke the present you gave me!” His voice was soft, comforting. “Shh, don’t cry. I’ll make her carve you another one.” Our friends chimed in. “Don’t worry, Maya! Chloe will do anything Alex says. You can have as many as you want!” “Yeah, don’t cry! Alex is rich! He’ll buy you something even better!” The voices faded as I walked away. The cold night air hit my face, and I let out a small, bitter laugh. Alex, my patience for you is officially at zero. 2 That night, I saw Alex’s Instagram post. It was a picture of Maya, smiling radiantly, holding a bouquet of red roses. In the background, Alex was looking down at her, his expression full of a tenderness he’d never shown me. I opened his contact, tapped the three dots in the corner, and blocked and deleted him without a second thought. The next morning, I was getting ready to open my small woodworking shop when Alex appeared, looking furious, holding a box from my favorite bakery. I didn’t even glance at him, turning back to my workbench to organize my carving knives. “I brought you a cupcake,” he said. It was his peace offering, the way we always made up. This time, I wasn’t accepting. He slammed the box down on the counter. “Chloe, what’s your problem?!” “Nothing,” I said, not looking up. “Are you still mad about yesterday? You blocked me. And deleted my number. Add me back. And look, I know you like me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find love with someone else, right?” I finally looked at him, trying to suppress the nausea rising in my throat. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care.” He wasn’t expecting that. Then he saw the half-finished carving on my workbench and smirked. “You don’t like me anymore?” he asked, a teasing tone in his voice. “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t.” He picked up the carving. It was a small, intricate snake. “Then what’s this?” He chuckled. “Chloe, you don’t have to do this to get my attention. I’ve known you for eight years. I know what you’re like. This is for me, isn’t it? Every year for my birthday, you carve me some stupid piece of wood. Don’t you ever get tired of it? It’s so boring. Since you love carving so much, carve another rose for Maya, exactly like the old one. And apologize to her.” “Why should I apologize to her?!” I asked, incredulous. “Because you made her cry.” A familiar ache spread through my chest. I’d loved him for eight years, chased him for eight years. Every time I confessed my feelings, he would show up, listen patiently, and then gently let me down. “Chloe, we’re too young.” “Chloe, let’s wait until college.” Then Maya came along. “Chloe, it’s Maya’s birthday today. Can we do this another time?” “Chloe, is your little confession really more important than Maya being sick? How can you be so selfish?” “Alex,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. “That rose was mine. You know what it meant to me.” He looked at me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. Just as he was about to say something, his phone rang. The ringtone was a recording of Maya’s voice, sweet and cloying. “Alex, I miss you! Come see me, okay?” He murmured a few soothing words to her and hung up. “I have to go,” he said. At the door, he turned back. “My mom wants you to come to my birthday party next month. I’ll pick you up. If you don’t come, she’ll kill me.” And then he was gone. We’d grown up together. After my parents moved away for business, his family had taken me in. He’d taken care of me, remembered everything from my favorite food to my period schedule. But he didn’t know that I’d stopped liking cupcakes years ago. I’d never missed his birthday. Every year, I would carve him a good luck charm. He used to wear them proudly. But since Maya became his assistant, he hadn’t worn a single one. I picked up my phone and made a call. “Master,” I said, “I’ve made up my mind.” “Well, well, the stubborn mule finally sees the light! What happened? Did you finally win over that boy?” “No…” “Ah, so he rejected you! I told you so! Hmph…” I listened to the old man’s grumpy but secretly pleased tone and felt a sense of relief. I had turned down my master’s offer to study with him time and time again, all for Alex. I had no reason to refuse him now. “You probably won’t be coming back here,” he said. “Say a proper goodbye to everyone.” “I will,” I said. 3 I finished carving the little wooden snake. Alex’s birthday arrived quickly. As promised, he came to pick me up. When I opened the car door, Maya was in the passenger seat. “From now on, Chloe,” she said with a smug smile, “you’ll be sitting in the back.” I didn’t say a word, just got in. Alex looked at me in surprise. The old me would have put up a fight, would have used our shared history to claim my rightful spot. But what was the point of fighting his girlfriend for a seat in a car? On the way, Maya chattered on, asking about Alex’s parents’ likes and dislikes. I put in my headphones, but she tapped me on the shoulder. “Chloe, you and Alex grew up together! You must know his parents so well! It’s my first time meeting them, I’m so nervous!” Through the rearview mirror, I saw the challenge in her eyes. “You don’t need to ask her,” Alex said, glancing at me. “She’s always too busy carving her stupid pieces of wood to pay attention to anything else.” I closed my eyes, feigning sleep. It was true, his parents adored me. We’d always argued about them. But this time, it was a farewell visit. There was no point in arguing. He frowned but didn’t say anything else. 4 When we arrived, Alex’s parents greeted me with warm hugs. “Chloe! It’s been too long! Have you forgotten all about us?” I smiled and made my excuses. The house was full of people, many of whom I knew. I found a quiet corner and tried to figure out the best time to slip away. “So, what if you’re his childhood friend?” Maya appeared in front of me, her arms crossed. “He’s mine now. You know, I actually kind of enjoy watching you grovel.” I stood up to leave, but something caught my eye. A small wooden charm hanging around her neck. My hand clenched into a fist. “Where did you get that?” She smiled sweetly. “Alex gave it to me, of course. I was sick, and he was so worried. He said he had this charm blessed for me.” My throat closed up. On his seventeenth birthday, Alex had been seriously ill. I’d stayed up all night carving a good luck charm for him, then walked miles to a temple to have it blessed. The next day, his fever broke. He’d cried when he found out what I’d done and promised that he would always protect me. And now, that precious charm was around her neck. “Give it to me,” I said, my voice loud enough to attract attention. Her eyes filled with tears. “But Alex gave it to me! You can’t just take it because you’re jealous, Chloe.” Whispers erupted around us. “Doesn’t she know he has a girlfriend? Why is she still clinging to him?” “She’s shameless. You should have seen her fawning all over him before.” “I heard she’s leaving, going to study woodworking or something.” “You actually believe that? She’s obsessed with him. She’s just trying to make him feel guilty.” Alex pushed through the crowd. He instinctively moved to protect Maya. “What’s wrong now?” he asked, his voice full of impatience. My hand trembled as I pointed at the charm. “Why did you give that to her?” He glanced at it. “Chloe, it’s just a piece of wood. What’s the big deal?” What’s the big deal? I couldn’t believe he would say that. I took a deep breath. “Happy birthday, Alex.” I handed him the small wooden snake and walked away. “Chloe! If you walk out that door, don’t ever come back!” he yelled after me. He looked down at the snake in his hand, turning it over and over. A look of panic crossed his face when he realized that, for the first time, I hadn’t carved his initials into it. He started to follow me, but Maya grabbed his arm. “Alex, it’s your birthday. I don’t want you to be upset. I’ll give the charm back to her.” He looked at the crowd of onlookers, then back at Maya’s tear-streaked face. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice softening. “Forget about her.” I went back to my workshop. The little space Alex and I had decorated together. I packed my things, throwing the carving knives he’d bought me into the trash. The rough, unfinished pieces we’d carved together, I threw them out, too. My phone rang. “Little one,” my master’s voice crackled, “I’ve sent your senior brother to pick you up.” There was a knock at the door. A handsome, scholarly-looking man stood there. “Chloe,” he said with a warm smile. “Master sent me.” “Okay, senior brother,” I said. 5 “Can we make a stop at my old house?” I asked as we drove. “There’s something I need to get.” He nodded. As we pulled up, I could hear the sounds of Alex’s party from next door. “It’s that punk’s birthday?” he asked. “Yeah.” I went straight to my old bedroom. On the very top of the closet, there was a small cloth bag. The carving knives my master had given me when I first became his apprentice. On my seventeenth birthday, Alex had given me a custom-made set, engraved with our initials. “From now on,” he’d said, “you can only use the knives I give you. You’re going to be the greatest woodcarver in the world.” He’d put my master’s knives up on the closet shelf, where I couldn’t reach them. “This way,” he’d said, “everything you create will be connected to me.” I stood on a chair, but I still couldn’t reach them. “Senior brother,” I said, a little embarrassed, “can you help me get that little bag down?” “You still haven’t grown an inch,” he teased, lifting me off the chair. Suddenly, an angry voice roared from the doorway. “Chloe! What do you think you’re doing?!”

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