Another cold war with Noah. I was just about to type out a long, rambling apology text when a line of text scrolled across my vision, like a live-stream commentary only I could see: 【Here we go again. The male lead’s buddies egged him on to give the female lead the silent treatment. So dumb.】 【Watch him step out from under his friends’ umbrella only to realize it isn’t even raining. LMAO.】 【Keep it up. The second he actually breaks up with her, his ‘buddies’ will be lining up to take his place.】 【Hey, female lead, look at his best friend, the one who supposedly hates you. If you even smiled at him, he’d give you his life.】 I froze. Half-skeptical, half-intrigued, I typed out a different message instead. A picture of a cocktail with the caption: Happy single life to me. The next second, my Instagram story blew up with likes. 1 It happened again. Another fight with Noah. This time, he accused me of being too controlling. “What’s the big deal if I grab a drink with the guys? Why do you have to make everything into such a huge fucking deal?” Noah’s voice was frayed with annoyance. It was already 11:30 p.m. “You have a sensitive stomach, you can’t drink too much.” Clearly, Noah didn’t care. I could faintly hear the jeers from his friends in the background. “Dude, how old are you? Still getting called home by the warden.” “Just go, man. Don’t want to make the missus mad. We all know who wears the pants in your house, haha.” The mockery was a direct hit to Noah’s pride. Humiliated, he snapped and hung up on me. When I called back, he immediately declined it. I was about to try a third time when the text feed appeared again: 【LMAO, his bros talked him into fighting with her again.】 【He secretly loves it when she calls him home, but he’s too proud to admit it.】 【Bet he’s staring at his phone right now, waiting for that third call. His thumb is probably raw from refreshing.】 I stood there, stunned. Was this… about me? Was I the female lead? And Noah was the male lead? It sort of made sense. Noah was stubborn and emotionally constipated, always resorting to the silent treatment. But if I took the first step, made the first move to reconcile, he would usually accept it with a carefully constructed air of reluctance by the third try. The comments were urging me on, telling me to call again. But my attention was snagged by that first comment. Talked him into it? Noah’s friends. My lips thinned. A spark of anger lit in my chest, and I dialed another number. “Why do you always drag Noah out drinking? Don’t you know he has someone waiting for him at home?” There was a pause on the other end, then a cool, detached voice answered, “When did I take Noah out for a drink?” Ethan. Noah’s best friend since childhood. And the one who hated me the most. He never gave me the time of day, never had a kind word for me. My anger was boiling over, and I didn’t care about our past friction. “Who else would it be? You know he has stomach issues. What’s your game, dragging him to a bar every night?” There was a beat of silence, then Ethan let out a dry, almost amused laugh. “I just got home from a business trip. Haven’t been to any bar.” A photo notification popped up on my screen. It was a selfie from Ethan. He looked like he’d just showered, his expression lazy, a hint of abs visible below the towel slung around his neck. A new text followed. “And for the record, I have a personal curfew. I have to be home by ten.” His next message felt pointed. “I’m not like other people. If I had a girlfriend, I’d actually listen to her.” 2 “I’m sorry,” I texted back, then quickly turned off my phone, my face burning with embarrassment. The mix-up was so awkward that I completely forgot to call Noah a third time. When Noah came home the next day, his face was a thundercloud. I asked if he wanted breakfast. He ignored me, treating me like I was part of the furniture. The cold war lasted for a whole week, right up until a college reunion dinner. At the table, Noah and I sat at opposite ends. The couple that was usually inseparable now looked like strangers. Chloe, Noah’s childhood sweetheart, leaned intimately against his shoulder and giggled. “Noah, fighting with your girlfriend again? You’re a grown man, don’t be so petty with her.” Chloe. In the days before me, she had also been Noah’s on-again, off-again girlfriend. They had a messy history that spanned years before they finally settled into being “just friends.” We had fought about Chloe more times than I could count, but Noah always dismissed my concerns with an impatient wave. “We tried, it didn’t work. If we were meant to be, would you even be in the picture?” His friends would laugh and tell me I was overthinking it. “You’re the first girl Noah’s ever talked about marrying. For a player like him to settle down for you? That’s love, right there.” Watching them now, whispering and laughing together without a care in the world, I had to take a deep breath and tell myself it was just normal friendly interaction. When the food arrived, the main dish placed in front of me was a pineapple fried rice. Chloe gasped, as if she’d just remembered. “Oh, I completely forgot your girlfriend is allergic to pineapple! Noah, why didn’t you remind me?” She made a show of offering me her seafood risotto, her voice laced with reluctance. “The waiter said this was the last portion. Oh well… since your girlfriend loves it so much, she can have it.” Her words painted me as some kind of tyrant, snatching the last plate of food from a starving child. It was just risotto, for God’s sake. I was about to refuse when Noah cut me off. “You eat yours. She doesn’t need it. Who does she think she is, anyway?” A sudden hush fell over the table. Chloe tugged on Noah’s sleeve, her brow furrowed as she chided him softly. “What are you doing? Just let her have it. It’s no big deal, I can eat the pineapple rice.” Noah didn’t budge. His voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. “What girlfriend? We’re not married. And even if we were, people get divorced. We’re just dating.” One of his friends chimed in, half-joking, “Whoa, what’s this? You thinking of breaking up, Noah?” Noah’s immediate reply was defensive. “No.” The friend smirked, his tone deceptively casual. “That’s what I thought. Ava has you on such a short leash, you have to report in every time you have a drink. You might give her the silent treatment to throw a little tantrum, but you’d never actually dare to break up with her.” The taunt hit its mark. Noah’s face flushed with anger. “Who says I wouldn’t? I’ll do it right now…” The words “break up” were on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped short, changing course mid-sentence. “But I’m not going to stoop to her level. Ava’s petty, but we’ve been together for a while. I’ll give her one last chance to apologize.” A flicker of disappointment crossed the friend’s eyes, but Noah didn’t see it. Chloe linked her arm through Noah’s, her voice playful. “Well, if you do break up, you can always date me again. Don’t let some outsider get the prize.” Noah’s lips curved into a smirk as he ruffled her hair. His gaze swept over to me, cold and dismissive. “Of course. Some people are just too much drama. You’ve always been the easy one.” 3 Everyone left. I was the only one left stranded on the curb. The restaurant was in a remote part of town. Getting a cab here had been easy; getting one back was proving to be a nightmare. Noah had refused to give me a ride and had actively stopped anyone else from offering. The text feed flickered back into existence. 【She’s so dumb. All she had to do was say something nice and he would’ve kicked the childhood sweetheart out of the car and driven her home himself.】 【He’s just stubborn, still pissed about the other night at the bar. If she had just called him that third time, he would’ve come home. He waited at the bar all night, fuming. It was her fault to begin with, why can’t she just suck it up and apologize?】 【He’s actually still driving around the area. He knows this place is sketchy and he’s worried something might happen to her. He does love her.】 【Oh my god, this protagonist is so annoying. Why can’t she just give in? Is saying sorry that hard?】 I pulled out my phone, my thumb hovering over Noah’s contact. I knew if I called, he’d probably turn the car around in a heartbeat. But my fingers wouldn’t move. I put the phone away. I couldn’t help it. I crouched down by the side of the road and started to cry. I didn’t understand what I had done so wrong. Noah was always like this, using the silent treatment again and again to force me to be the one to surrender. I used to think it was just his personality. But it wasn’t. I’d seen him, more than once, coaxing and soothing Chloe with a gentle voice when she was upset. He had patience and tenderness; he just never gave them to me. Every time he got angry, he would dangle the threat of a breakup over my head. He did it because he knew I would always be the one to back down. But this time, he was wrong. I walked for an hour before I finally found a cab. I was so exhausted I could barely stand. But I never made that call to Noah. 4 When I got back, I started packing. I moved my things out of our apartment. For the next three days, I didn’t send Noah a single text. Then, for the first time in a long while, he called me. “Hey. Wear something nice tonight. You’re coming with me to a gala.” His tone was as stiff as a board, but for Noah, this was the equivalent of extending an olive branch. But I refused. “I’m not going. Find someone else.” There was a stunned silence on the other end. “Find someone else?” Noah’s voice was laced with disbelief. “Everyone’s bringing their girlfriend. Who am I supposed to bring?” “Anyone,” I said. “Chloe, or whatever other girl is around.” “Ava, how many times do we have to go over this? We’re just friends. Are you seriously going to bring up old shit again? Is that all you know how to do?” “You’re the one who said you’d get back with her if we broke up. Do you need me to repeat your exact words back to you?” His breathing on the other end became heavy, ragged with fury. “Fine. Then we’re done. Let’s see who comes crawling back like a dog, begging for a second chance.” Noah was confident. Our friends didn’t know that we had broken up once before. He had never mentioned it, as if always leaving himself an escape route. For him, the words “let’s break up” were just code for: “I’m mad. You need to fix it. Once you’ve begged enough, we can get back together.” But one person can only be the first to apologize so many times. No matter how much love there is, it starts to feel like a burden. “Fine. Let’s break up,” I said. Maybe it was the night at the bar, or maybe it started long before that, but I was just tired. I finally understood that in Noah’s world, my concern was being controlling. My calls were an embarrassment. My love was a cage. If that’s how he saw it, then I would let him go. Here’s your freedom, Noah. 5 After Noah and I officially broke up, the text feed went wild. 【Wait, I haven’t checked in for a few days, how did they break up?】 【Ugh, it was definitely his toxic ‘friends’ again. They can’t stand to see anyone happy just because they’re single.】 【Watch him step out from under his friends’ umbrella only to realize it isn’t even raining. LMAO.】 【Keep it up. The second he actually breaks up with her, his ‘buddies’ will be lining up to take his place.】 【Come on, girl, get it together. If he can run around with his childhood sweetheart, you can find yourself a hot younger guy. Why should guys have all the fun?】 To say I wasn’t hurting would be a lie. A multi-year relationship doesn’t just vanish overnight. But I couldn’t let myself spiral. I had my own life to live. I didn’t believe a word the comments were saying about his friends. They had always treated me poorly, warning me in hushed tones that I wasn’t good enough for Noah, pressuring me to leave him. The worst was Ethan. He once cornered me against a wall, demanding to know what I saw in Noah. I thought he was just being an overprotective friend, so I said the most obnoxious thing I could think of. “His money. I have a thing for rich guys.” From that day on, Ethan started wearing a different luxury watch—sometimes multiple—on his wrist every day. I thought he was trying to mock me, so I sniped at him, calling him a peacock. I asked if his family had gone bankrupt and he’d been forced to become a watch model. He was so pissed that he showed up the next day with a bare wrist. But now, reading the comments, I hesitated. As a test, I posted a story on my Instagram: a simple text post on a black background. 【Officially single. Here’s to new beginnings.】 It was two in the morning. I didn’t think anyone would see it. The next second, my phone started vibrating nonstop. It was an avalanche of likes. The names were all familiar—people who had never once interacted with my posts before. It was Noah’s entire circle of friends. I refreshed my feed, and a new post popped up at the top. It had been posted one minute ago. It was from Ethan. Ethan: 24, 6’3″, grad degree, no childhood sweetheart baggage, 10 p.m. curfew, dislikes arguments and the silent treatment, a good listener. Currently single and available. I thought about the comment telling me to find a hot younger guy. I tapped on Ethan’s profile and sent a message. Me: 【Hi.】 He replied instantly. Ethan: 【Yes. I’ll post that we’re official right now.】 Me: 【?】 Me: 【But I wasn’t asking you out.】

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384983”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My husband wasn’t just bankrupt, he was cheating—the cheap, sordid kind. I’d had enough. The moment he walked through the door, coated in the dust and exhaustion of a day on a construction site, I let the words hang in the air between us, cold and sharp. “I want a divorce.” Leo stared at me for a moment, the fatigue on his face settling into a kind of calm resolve. “Okay,” he nodded, his voice flat. “I’ll take a half-day tomorrow. We can file the papers.” And just then, a strange, childlike voice echoed in my mind. Oh, my clueless mommy. Dad didn’t cheat. And he’s about to make a huge comeback. This is all a trap set by the Transmigrator. She wants you to divorce him so she can swoop in. After the divorce, you get scammed out of your money and your dignity, and you end up dead on the street. Two bodies, one grave. Meanwhile, she helps Dad through the hard times, becomes the enviable Mrs. Archer, and gets spoiled by him for the rest of her life. I waited in line for decades for a chance to be born, and I fought like hell to be reborn this one time. For the love of God, Mom, get your act together! The voice faded. The shock hit me like a physical blow, and a raw sob tore from my throat. “You don’t love me at all!” I wailed, the accusation tasting like ash in my mouth. “I say divorce and you just agree? You don’t even try to stop me? You bastard!” 1 Leo, who had probably never witnessed such a shameless, whiplash-inducing reversal, just stood there, stunned. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice laced with weary resignation. “You don’t have to worry. You can have whatever money we have left. I won’t let you take on any of my debt.” He wasn’t taking the bait. I wiped at my non-existent tears, my voice full of righteous anger. “The only reason I want a divorce is because you cheated!” The weariness in his expression deepened. “If you want out, just say it. I won’t drag this on. You don’t have to make up excuses.” A knot of panic tightened in my stomach. If I didn’t handle this perfectly, right now, it would become a thorn between us forever. A permanent splinter that would seriously impact how much money he’d be willing to… spend on me in the future. “I have proof!” I scrambled for my phone, ready to show him the video a stranger had sent me—of him at a seedy massage parlor. But when I opened the message thread, the video was gone. It had simply vanished. “Huh? Where did it go?” I looked up, my eyes wide with a frantic, helpless energy. “I’m not lying, Leo. Someone really sent me a video of you… getting a happy ending!” Leo’s brow furrowed slightly, but he remained silent. I couldn’t read his expression, which only fueled my panic. “I don’t care if you believe me or not,” I declared, my voice shaking. “I’m not getting a divorce!” At least, not right now. If we were going to split, it would be after he made his comeback, and I could walk away with a very comfortable settlement. Leo’s face was still a mask. He started toward the bathroom, his voice devoid of emotion. “Whatever you want. I’ll be ready whenever you change your mind again.” I knew he was angry with me now. I stomped my foot in frustration. The… baby in my belly was just as agitated. An old saying goes, ‘A harsh word is like a winter wind in June.’ Dad’s heart must be completely frozen over. We’re screwed! But Dad is loyal. As long as Mom shamelessly refuses to leave, his personality won’t let him force a divorce. The biggest problem is still that Transmigrator. If Mom and Dad don’t split up, she’ll definitely keep making trouble. That witch! Transmigrator? Who is she? I was about to whisper the question out loud, but then I felt a mental yawn from my unborn son. So sleepy… time for a nap… And just like that, he was gone. 2 The way Leo and I met was like something out of a movie. A very strange movie. He was a self-made small business owner. I was just a regular girl with a nine-to-five. One night, I was drowning my sorrows after my college sweetheart dumped me for some trust-fund kid. I was drunk and looking to do something reckless. As it happened, he’d just escaped a business meeting where someone had drugged his drink. We ran into each other on the street. We were a perfect storm of desperation and bad decisions. The next morning, he said he had to take responsibility. He was tall, handsome, surprisingly wealthy, and I was his first. What reason did I have to say no? We were at the courthouse by noon. Leo was quiet and his work kept him busy, so I never felt that all-consuming kind of love from him. But he was generous with his money, and that was a language I understood. I didn’t fuss over the love part. Then, the market turned. His company went under, and he was left with nothing but a mountain of debt. Still, he shielded me from the worst of it, never letting me go without. That, plus the fact that he was still gorgeous, meant I hadn’t seriously considered leaving. Until this afternoon, when a random number sent me that video. That’s what triggered my demand for a divorce. As for the little guy in my belly, I had no idea he even existed until I heard his thoughts. Leo must still care about having a child, right? The thought gave me a sliver of reassurance. He was quick in the shower, emerging in under ten minutes wrapped in a single towel. Water droplets clung to the hard lines of his muscles, his skin a warm bronze. For a second, my mouth went dry. Then I remembered the tiny passenger I was carrying, and the heat fizzled out. “Is pasta okay for dinner?” My mood had been so foul I hadn’t bothered to cook. Leo dried his hair with a towel, his tone cool. “I’ll make it.” He walked into the bedroom without another look at me to change. I could tell he was still stewing over the divorce comment. I honestly thought he’d cheated, that’s why I’d said it. Now, thinking about the baby, a strange wave of self-pity washed over me. My nose prickled, and tears started to well up. When Leo came out, he glanced at my face but said nothing, heading straight for the kitchen. I wanted to tell him I was pregnant, but my pride was still smarting. Besides, we’d just slept together last night. The thought made me decide to slip out to the pharmacy for a couple of pregnancy tests first. 3 When I got home, Leo was sitting on our worn-out sofa, lost in thought. He looked up the second I walked in, his eyes lighting up for a fraction of a second before the hope flickered out, leaving them dull again. “The pasta’s ready,” he said quietly. I looked at the two bowls on the table, one larger than the other, then back at his cold, distant face. My appetite vanished. “I’m not hungry. You eat.” I clutched the small plastic bag and disappeared into the bathroom. As I expected, no second line appeared on the tests. It was too soon. Even a blood test at the hospital wouldn’t show anything yet. I’d have to wait a few more days to tell him. I washed my hands and came out. Leo was still on the sofa, a storm cloud of gloom hanging over him. He looked utterly alone. I sat down cautiously on the other end of the couch, and we lapsed into silence. Both of us came from unhappy families; it was part of what had propelled us into such a hasty marriage. In the two years since, he’d spent two-thirds of his time on the road for work. We were together so little, and we never found a common language to bridge the distance. To be honest, we communicated more in bed than we ever did out of it. I knew he was under immense pressure, but I didn’t know how to help. I’m not the motivational speaker type, so the best I could do was try not to bother him. For some reason, I felt particularly fragile tonight. Before I knew it, tears were silently tracking down my cheeks. Leo glanced over, then quickly looked away. His voice was tired, resigned. “With my situation now… it might be like this forever. Leaving me is the right choice. I won’t blame you. You don’t need to feel guilty.” He really was hung up on what I’d said. The thought made my chest ache. I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up and went back to the bedroom. The apartment was silent for a long, heavy half-hour before I heard the faint rustle of movement. About ten minutes after that, the front door opened and closed. A single thought seared through my mind: He’s leaving me. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. A gut-wrenching sob broke from me, and I started to howl, burying my face in the pillow. I was so lost in my grief that I didn’t hear the door open again. Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open. Leo stood there, pinching his nose, holding out a container of takeout ramen. The pungent, savory smell filled the room. “Eat something,” he said. “Don’t starve yourself.” I stared at him, dumbfounded. It took me a moment to process. I grabbed a tissue, scrubbed at my tear-streaked face, and mumbled, “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” See? That’s how we were. So formal, so polite. Like strangers. 4 Leo never went to college; he’d been working since he graduated high school. After his logistics company went bankrupt, he went back to his old job: manual labor on construction sites. I’d tried to find work three times, but each time, after just a few days, I’d end up dealing with some disgusting creep hitting on me. Leo eventually told me to just stay home. So my days were spent doing chores and filming faceless style-transformation videos for social media. I’d build up a small following and make a little pocket money selling clothes through my affiliate links. I took the ramen to the living room and ate it between sobs. While I ate, Leo quietly cleaned the apartment, washing the clothes and tidying up. When he was done, he walked over to me with a small suitcase in his hand. “My boss just called. He wants me to manage a project out of town. I’ll be gone for a few days. Be careful while you’re here alone.” He’d been coming home every night lately. I’d gotten used to it. The thought of him leaving sent a jolt of panic through me. “How many days is ‘a few’?” “A week, if it goes fast. Two weeks at the most.” “Oh. Well, try to come back sooner.” “Okay.” He hesitated for a moment. “About the divorce… think it over seriously. Whatever you decide, I’ll accept it. I won’t hold it against you.” Just hearing the word “divorce” made my teeth ache. “It was just something I said because I was angry. If you don’t believe me, fine.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but just sighed and nodded. “Okay. Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything.” “Mhm.” … After Leo left, it felt like a piece of me went with him. I was on edge every day. My baby’s inner voice appeared twice more during that time. I tried talking to him, and to my surprise, he could hear me. I asked him who the Transmigrator was. He said he’d died too young in the previous timeline and didn’t know much. Everything he knew about my death and his father’s future came from things he overheard other “souls” talking about while he was waiting to be reborn. He didn’t know her specific identity. Leo texted me a few times a day to make sure I was okay. There was no sweet talk, but knowing he was thinking of me was enough. That lasted until the day before he was due back. After three in the afternoon, his messages stopped. I figured he was busy, or maybe just slacking off since he was about to come home, so I didn’t worry too much. I knew he was coming back the next evening. I even went out and bought groceries to cook a special meal for him. But I waited until almost ten, and he still wasn’t home. I couldn’t wait any longer and sent him a text. No reply. I called him. The phone rang for a long time before someone picked up. It was Leo’s voice, but it was cold. “What’s up?” The anxiety in my chest intensified. “When are you coming home? There’s something I need to tell you.” There was a long pause before he answered. “I’ll be home in an hour.” I let out a small breath of relief. Talking in person was better anyway. “Okay. I’ll wait for you.” “Alright.” 5 Leo arrived exactly one hour later. But he seemed to be in a terrible mood, radiating a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. I thought maybe something had gone wrong at work and was debating whether this was the right time to tell him about the baby. He spoke before I could. “Let’s go file for divorce on Monday. I just got a three-thousand-dollar bonus. You can have that, plus the rest of our savings.” He pulled a thick envelope of cash from his bag and set it on the table. I froze. I thought we’d agreed not to get divorced. Why had he suddenly changed his mind? My nose tingled, and my eyes instantly filled with tears. “What are you talking about?” Leo turned his face away, refusing to look at me. “I know you’ve had a hard time since I lost everything. This is all I have right now. If things get better for me down the line, I’ll give you more.” The dam broke. Tears streamed down my face, my mind a complete blank. I couldn’t even begin to wonder if there was some kind of misunderstanding. My son woke up and started wailing in my womb. Well, my world is officially ending. It’s okay, Mom, it’s okay. Just have me, and when he gets rich again, we’ll sue him for child support. A lot of it. We can still live the high life, and you won’t even have a man telling you what to do. It’ll be great! He actually had a point. If that was the plan, I shouldn’t burn the bridge completely. “I’ll only take half the money.” Leo’s tone was firm. “You don’t have to leave any for me. I can earn more. The rent is paid for the next five months. You stay here, I’ll move out.” “Fine, whatever!” I spun around and stormed into the bedroom, burying my face in the pillows and letting out small, choked sobs. Leo stayed in the living room for a while before coming in to pack his things. I pulled the covers over my head, muffling my cries. He didn’t have much, so it didn’t take long. I heard every sound: his footsteps leaving the bedroom, crossing the living room, and the final, definitive click of the front door closing. Once he was gone, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I cried until I was exhausted, finally drifting into a restless sleep. I don’t know how much later it was when I woke up, feeling awful. I was burning up with a fever. We had cold medicine and fever reducers in the cabinet, but I was afraid to take anything that might harm the baby. From experience, I knew if I could just push through the first three days, it would get better. But those three days were hell. The fever wouldn’t break, and my whole body ached. When you’re sick, everything feels fragile—your body and your mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about the other times I’d been sick when Leo was home. He was never one for sweet words, but he would take care of me, quietly and meticulously. The memory made the ache in my heart even worse. At my lowest point, I broke down and called him. The phone rang and rang. Finally, someone answered, but it was a sweet, feminine voice. “Hi, Leo is pretty drunk right now. Can he call you back when he sobers up?” “Never mind,” I snapped, and hung up. I collapsed back onto the bed and cried myself to sleep. In that hazy space between waking and sleeping, I felt a cool cloth on my face, gently wiping my forehead. I forced my eyes open and thought I saw Leo’s face floating in the dim light. I must have been hallucinating. I remember babbling, sometimes begging him not to go, other times cursing him for being a bastard. After what felt like an eternity, the agonizing ache finally subsided, and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 6 I slept until I woke up naturally. As my eyes fluttered open, I saw a figure sitting by my bed. The sight shocked me fully awake. I pushed myself up, my gaze cold and hard. We sat in a tense silence for a few seconds before Leo finally broke it. “Is it mine?” I looked down. He was holding the pregnancy test I’d thrown in the trash three days ago. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snarled, my voice raw. “Are you accusing me of cheating on you?!” I was ready to explode, but then I saw his eyes. They were red-rimmed and glistening. My anger instantly deflated, getting stuck somewhere in my throat, making it hard to breathe. It just made me want to cry again. Tears spilled over and streamed down my cheeks. “We’re getting a divorce anyway, what does it matter if it’s yours?” I said, lashing out with a newfound malice. “And I’ll tell you this: whether I have this baby or not is my decision. You have no say in it!” A dark thought took root in my mind. I wouldn’t just have this baby and demand a fortune in child support. I would make sure to parade our child in front of him and that Transmigrator every chance I got. Just to twist the knife. Leo stared at me for a few moments, his voice thick. “Someone sent me a video from an anonymous number. It was… of you and your ex-boyfriend. At a hotel.” I blinked, then I saw red. “I haven’t left this apartment in a week! Even my groceries are delivered! When the hell was I supposedly meeting my ex at a hotel?!” He watched me, his gaze intense, trying to decipher the truth from my expression. “The video wasn’t a fake. It was you. Unless there’s someone in the world who looks exactly like you.” “Impossible!” I shrieked. “I’ve been here the whole time!” Wait a minute. This whole scenario felt eerily familiar. “The video. Let me see it.” I snatched the phone from his pocket. I knew his passcode, so getting in was easy. But I wasn’t used to his phone’s layout, so I shoved it back at him. “You do it.” Leo took the phone and slowly scrolled through his messages. But there was no video. “It’s gone,” he said, frowning in thought. I let out a cold, bitter laugh and collapsed onto the bed, starting to sob dramatically. “Fine! If you think I cheated, then I cheated! We’ll go file the papers tomorrow! Whoever doesn’t show up is a spineless coward!” About ten seconds passed. Then, strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me from the mattress and pulling me into a hug. Leo’s voice was a low murmur against my hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you. It’s all my fault.” I had only been pretending to cry, but his words broke something open inside me. All the pent-up grief and hurt came pouring out, and my fake sobs turned into real, gut-wrenching tears. “I got a video of you at that massage parlor, too,” I choked out. “But when you said it wasn’t true, I believed you.” “I believe you, but you don’t believe me! We can’t live like this!” “I don’t want a divorce. I’m the spineless coward. It’s all my fault. Please, baby, don’t cry.” Baby? He’d never called me that before. The thought only made me cry harder.

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The October layoffs sent me packing, crawling back to my hometown with my tail between my legs. That’s when I heard the voice, a strange, raspy thought that wasn’t my own. Such a pathetic two-legs. The first one to charge into the inferno, saved so many, yet he died the worst death of all. Seven years, and his body’s still buried under this pile of rubble. Caw-caw. My head snapped up. An old crow was perched on the edge of the ruins next to the first-floor skeleton of a collapsed building, tilting its small, black head. Mrow! You said it! A calico cat was digging through the broken bricks nearby, hunting for mice. They never found his body, so everyone assumed he ran scared from the fire. The humans called him a coward, threw filth at his house. No good deed goes unpunished, meow. I froze, my blood turning to ice. My fingers fumbled for my phone as I dialed 911. “Hello, police? I need to bring a hero home!” 1 The dispatcher’s voice was calm, practiced. “Ma’am, have you found a missing elderly person?” “Not an old man, a firefighter! A hero!” I said, my voice tight. “The Sterling Port disaster, seven years ago. A firefighter died saving people, but his remains… they’re still buried under the rubble.” The dispatcher’s tone sharpened. “You’ve located human remains?” “No, but I have witnesses. A crow and a calico cat, they’re always around the ruins. They said the hero is still crushed under there.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line. I could practically picture the officer’s expression. “Ma’am,” he said slowly, “are you currently under a doctor’s care?” “You have to believe me! I’m not sick!” I was practically tripping over my own words, trying to explain. “I’m a survivor of the Port Sterling fire. After I made it out, I… I could understand what animals were thinking. My house was destroyed, so I’ve been away at college. Today’s the first day I’ve been back.” I took a shaky breath. “The crow and the cat told me the hero who died was vilified, that people threw trash on his family’s lawn. I have a strong feeling it might be Captain O’Connell—the one they called the ‘deserter,’ the story that went national.” “It’s possible he didn’t run,” I pleaded. “It’s possible he died on the front lines and was just… lost. Please, send someone to check. Give a hero back his name. Bring him home.” The officer clearly decided I was a lost cause. He hung up. I had no idea if he’d take any of it seriously. The Sterling Port Disaster was a national tragedy. 231 people dead, including 36 firefighters. The official story was that most of those firefighters died because Captain Mike O’Connell deserted his post, causing a catastrophic loss of water pressure. Everyone in the country knew his name. Mike O’Connell, the only firefighter to ever run from a fire. He was a symbol of shame, an object of national hatred. I used to believe it, too. After all, they’d recovered the bodies of every other fallen firefighter. His was the only one missing. He must have run. But now… I clenched my fists, went to my grandfather’s old shed, and came back with a shovel. Under the moonlight, the old crow watched me. Is this two-legs going to dig up the ruins? What is she doing? “I want to bring the hero home,” I said, hoisting the shovel. “Help me.” To my astonishment, the bird seemed to understand. It let out a series of calls, and soon, a small army of animals emerged from the shadows. The calico cat began pawing at loose bricks. “The human wants to help the sad human get home! Come on, everyone, help!” A stray dog started digging at the dirt with its front paws. Woof! For the hero! Dig, dig, dig! A few sparrows fluttered down, carrying away small pebbles in their beaks. Gently! Don’t wake the hero~ Even the crow, usually so aloof, joined in, using its beak to pry at loose bits of rubble. At three in the morning, the shovel hit something hard with a loud clang. I dropped to my knees, my flashlight beam cutting through the dark. There, in the shallow pit, was a charred section of a leg bone. Caw-caw-caw! We found him! the crow shrieked, flapping its wings. “It’s the hero’s bone!” I didn’t hesitate. I called the police again. Soon, the entire ruin was cordoned off with yellow tape. When the complete, blackened skeleton was carefully lifted from the earth, a collective gasp went through the assembled officers. The adult skeleton was curled into a protective posture, and held tightly in its embrace was the tiny skeleton of an infant. “Adult male. And the little girl in his arms. Both died of asphyxiation.” A cool, female voice cut through the silence, filled with a mixture of regret and admiration. “The deceased likely tried to use his own body to shield the child, to give her a pocket of air. But… the child was probably already gone.” A woman in a medical examiner’s jacket was kneeling by the pit, her eyes dispassionate, almost chillingly calm as she took notes. Just then, I heard the calico cat’s thought from near my feet. Mrow, so sad. Her own husband, right in front of her, and the two-legs doesn’t even recognize him. My heart skipped a beat. The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. “That man… the adult male… he’s your husband.” 2 The medical examiner, Dr. Evelyn Reed, shot her head up, her gaze slicing through me like a scalpel. “What did you say?” “This skeleton… it’s Captain O’Connell’s,” I repeated, my voice trembling. “You and Captain O’Connell… you were married, weren’t you?” Evelyn tore off her surgical mask, revealing a pale, drawn face. A bitter, sarcastic smile twisted her lips. “Are you mocking me? Everyone in this city knows my ex-husband was Mike O’Connell. And he was a deserter.” “Ma’am, he wasn’t a deserter. He was a hero!” I gestured desperately at the animals gathered in the shadows. “They all saw it. If you just run a DNA comparison with his… with your daughter’s…” Before I could finish, Evelyn’s voice cracked like a whip. “Enough! Mike abandoned his post right before the second explosion. The water pressure failed because of him, which caused the main flare-up that killed thirty-six of his own men!” “That’s thirty-six lives, thirty-six shattered families. He was too much of a coward to face the consequences, so he fled the country. A man like that would never die trying to save someone!” Her eyes were filled with a profound, aching disappointment. “And more importantly,” she added, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper, “there was a witness. An eyewitness from the fire who saw him run.” “Mike O’Connell better hope he never shows his face again. Because if he does, and if one of those families doesn’t tear him apart first, I will.” Her words hit me like a physical blow. I stood there, stunned. An eyewitness saw him run. Could the animals have been wrong? The remains were taken to the morgue, and I had no authority to follow. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that the body belonged to Captain O’Connell. For days, I interviewed old residents around the ruins and sought out more animal witnesses. The humans still hated Mike’s name with a passion, so I learned to stop asking them. From the animals, however, I began to piece together a mosaic of the truth, and it only made my heart heavier. That afternoon, I found the hero’s daughter, Lily O’Connell, outside of Northwood Elementary. I needed to get a DNA sample from the little girl to run a match against the remains. Lily was holding the hand of a man with glasses, smiling sweetly up at him. The school’s resident stray, a scruffy terrier mix, grumbled from his spot by the gate. Woof! I hate that glasses guy. Kicked me once when I was sleeping. He bullies all the animals around here! Not like Lily’s dad. He’d always scratch our heads, give us treats. We all loved him. A shame we’ll never see him again. I frowned and walked over, my focus on the small girl. “You must be Lily. I’m a friend of your dad’s.” The girl glanced at me shyly before the man, Ken Thompson, pulled her protectively behind him. His eyes were cold and wary. “I know all of Mike’s friends. Who are you?” I met his gaze directly. “We met on the day of the fire, seven years ago. Did you hear? They just dug up an unidentified body from the ruins a couple of days ago.” Ken’s face darkened instantly. “He was a coward. And if you met him on that day, you’re probably the same. Get the hell away from us.” He grabbed Lily’s hand and walked away at a brisk pace. I didn’t follow. Instead, the next day, with a little help from the terrier, I slipped onto the school grounds. Lily was sitting alone on the swings. “My daddy was a deserter,” she mumbled, her head hung low. “That’s what all the kids say. They all hate me. No one will play with me.” I knelt in the wood chips in front of her, meeting her eyes. “Lily, what if I told you I could understand what animals say?” Her eyes widened slightly. “The swallows under the eaves remember how your dad would leave a dish of water for them on the windowsill every spring. The stray cats on the corner remember how he always kept treats for them in his pocket. Even the dog next to the old firehouse says Captain O’Connell was the bravest man he ever knew.” The light in the little girl’s eyes began to flicker back to life. “All the animals say your dad wasn’t a deserter,” I continued softly. “They say he was a true hero. He charged back into that horrible fire to save the children in the daycare center. He just… he didn’t make it back out.” “I knew it! I knew my daddy wasn’t a bad man!” The little girl looked up, her eyes swimming with tears, and grabbed my sleeve. “When he came home, he used to pat my head and say, ‘Don’t you worry, sweetie. Daddy’s the Captain. The fire knows to walk around me.’” “He saved so, so many people. He never ran from anything. But nobody believes me…” 3 Her words were a key, unlocking a memory I had buried for seven years. The fire, the smoke so thick I couldn’t breathe. Trapped in my house, I was sure I was going to die. Then, a figure in orange burst through a wall of flames, and a pair of strong arms swept me off my feet. “It’s okay, little girl, I’ve got you!” a steady voice said from behind a mask. When he handed me off to another firefighter outside, I clung to his sleeve, which was already blistering from the heat. “Mister, it’s too dangerous. Please don’t go back in.” He patted my head. “It’s okay. I’m the Captain. The fire knows to walk around me.” The man who saved me… it was Captain O’Connell. Shaking, I knelt and wrapped my arms around this little girl who had been without her father for seven years. My voice was thick with emotion. “I promise you, Lily. I will make sure your father comes home with his head held high. I will make sure everyone knows he was a true hero.” Just then, a sparrow perched on the swing set began to chirp frantically. I remember now! That day, Captain O’Connell was already safe! He only ran back in because he heard crying from the daycare! The old crow from the ruins landed on the fence, flapping its wings. Caw! That’s right! And right before the second explosion, Captain O’Connell pushed that glasses guy out the window! My head shot up. “The man with the glasses?” The calico cat slinked out from under a bush, tail held high. Meow! The same one who picked her up from school yesterday. He was a real mess back then. Tore his pants on a piece of rebar. The hero even gave him his own safety line to get him out. He owed his life to Captain O’Connell. He knew Mike was saving people right up until the end, yet he called him a coward. My teeth ground together in anger. I managed to get a few strands of Lily’s hair. I was about to take them to a private lab for DNA testing myself when the officer who took my first call found me. He hadn’t believed me then, but the discovery of the body had changed his mind. “Look, the whole ‘talking to animals’ thing is… unbelievable. We can’t use it,” he said, looking at me with new respect. “But the possibility that the remains belong to Captain O’Connell is real. I’m putting in a request with the lead detective on the case to get a DNA comparison. We should have the results by tomorrow, fastest.” The next day, before the results were in, the news broke that Ken Thompson was proposing to Dr. Evelyn Reed. A sparrow hopped on my windowsill. The hero’s life is so sad, chirp-chirp. He’s been dead for so many years, and no one believes he was a good man. Now the bad guy is stealing his wife. She’s all dressed up to go meet him… Ken was going to propose to the hero’s wife on the anniversary of the hero’s death? The sheer audacity. My expression hardened. I logged onto a livestreaming platform and created a channel. After a moment’s thought, I typed in the title: 【FINDING THE BURIED TRUTH】—The Fire Captain Who Vanished 7 Years Ago Wasn’t a Deserter. He Was a HERO. I aimed the camera at my face, the familiar ruins of the disaster site stark in the background. Taking a deep breath, I began. “Hello everyone. Seven years ago, a fire captain named Mike O’Connell was branded a deserter, blamed for the deaths of his colleagues, and hated by the nation.” “But a few days ago, guided by the animals who live here, his remains were found in these very ruins. He was found shielding the body of a child.” “The evidence shows he wasn’t a coward. He was a hero who died seven years ago, and whose story was buried. Today, I’m going to take you with me to uncover the truth.”

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My boyfriend has always been… adventurous. In that way. So, after we first slept together, it didn’t take long for him to start coaxing me into trying things. Toys, mostly. But when he pulled out a ring box, and I thought my moment had finally come, I was the one who ended it. He slammed the car to a stop on the shoulder of the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Say that again.” I closed my eyes, the words a lead weight on my tongue. “We’re done.” “Get out. I don’t make a habit of driving strangers home.” He popped the locks, and just like that, I was on the side of the road, watching his taillights disappear into the night. I had to find a new apartment, a new job. Start a new life. Tearing someone out of your life, piece by piece, is an agony. But the first lesson of adulthood, I’m learning, is this: You have to learn to accept loss with grace. Months later, at a dinner party, news got back to him that I’d gone home to let my mom set me up on dates. Leo’s eyes went red, and he shattered the glass he was holding. “Quinn,” he seethed, his voice a low growl that cut through the chatter. “How fucking dare you.” 1 Leaving our friend’s wedding, my mind was buzzing. I couldn’t help it. What would my wedding with Leo be like? “Will you marry me?” The words slipped out, surprising even me. A ghost of a memory, a scene that felt like it had played out a hundred times before. “Leo, marry me!” “When are you going to marry me?” “Do you think you’ll ever marry me?” The questions echoed in my mind, a timeline of my own hope decaying. From the confident demands of early love to the desperate, whispered pleas of a woman terrified of the answer. Leo kept one hand on the wheel, reaching into the back seat with the other and dropping a heavy shopping bag into my lap. My breath hitched. My heart fluttered with a nervous, hopeful tremor. A ring? God, it wasn’t romantic at all, but who cared? A grin I couldn’t contain spread across my face. Carefully, I pulled apart the layers of crisp, expensive tissue paper. But what I saw inside wasn’t a velvet box. It was one of his new toys, nestled on top of a black lace teddy. I froze. Leo let out a low chuckle. “Latest model. I bought the whole collection,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Tonight. Let’s try them all out. Hmm?” It was like he hadn’t heard me. Like he hadn’t heard me talk about getting married in a church, the sunlight streaming through stained glass. Like he hadn’t seen me, just an hour ago at the reception, closing my eyes and making a wish for us, for a forever that felt more and more like a fantasy. 2 “Is that honestly all you ever think about?” Leo couldn’t understand why my mood had suddenly curdled. He was obsessed with the physical side of our relationship, the constant pursuit of a new high. After we first started sleeping together, he’d gently pushed me into trying his toys. I’d gone from blushing and hesitant to… compliant. But tonight, the chasm between what I’d hoped for and what I’d received felt too wide to cross. The disappointment was a physical ache in my chest. “What the hell is your problem?” he snapped. “Who else am I supposed to talk to about this stuff with, if not you?” “Then talk to someone else. We’re done.” The screech of tires was deafening. The seatbelt locked hard across my chest, knocking the wind out of me and making my heart pound with a pain that had nothing to do with the sudden stop. The car jerked to a halt. Leo’s voice was dangerously low, laced with fury. “You say that again.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “We’re done.” “Get out,” he said, the words clipped and cold. “I don’t make a habit of driving strangers home.” Strangers. Just like that. A stranger. Five years of my life, of our life, erased in a single word. He said it, but he didn’t unlock the doors. The streetlights outside were dim, casting long, menacing shadows. He knew I was terrified of the dark. He was waiting. He was always waiting for me to be the one to back down, to apologize. But tonight, an exhaustion so profound it felt like it was in my bones washed over me. It wrapped around my throat, tight and suffocating. Just as the panic began to set in, I heard my own voice, raw and raspy, but laced with a resolve I hadn’t known I possessed. “Unlock the door.” A humorless, chilling laugh escaped his lips. “You’ve got guts, Quinn. I’ll give you that.” Then, the sharp click of the locks disengaging. I didn’t hesitate. I pushed the door open and stepped out into the cold night air. The second I slammed the door shut, I heard him curse, a muffled “fuck” from inside the car. His night ruined, Leo stomped on the gas. The engine roared, and the car shot away from the curb, leaving me standing alone. The streetlights flickered, a weak, inconsistent glow. And in that moment, the suffocating feeling in my chest began to ease. The darkness didn’t feel so terrifying anymore. Not compared to the feeling of drowning. A memory surfaced, unbidden, from a lifetime ago. Him, so nervous and hopeful, stopping me on the campus quad. “Quinn? I’m… I’m a huge fan of your videos,” he’d stammered. “Can I… can I get your number?” 3 Leo was a year behind me in college. The moment he stepped on campus, he became an instant legend on the university’s anonymous “Crush Confessions” page. I was, at the time, a moderately well-known campus creator, famous for my goofy, slice-of-life videos. That’s how I ended up hosting the Welcome Week talent show, and how he ended up on stage as the freshman class representative. That was the night the gears of our fate began to turn. During rehearsals, he’d show up with two brown sugar boba teas, claiming they were having a two-for-one special. When I was out sketching near the art building, he’d just “happen” to be walking by. “Quinn! Hey, what a coincidence!” I’d looked up from my sketchbook, shielding my eyes from the sun that haloed his head. “Are you following me, Leo?” He nodded instinctively before his eyes widened and he shook his head violently. I saw the tips of his ears turn a deep, tell-tale crimson. I picked up my charcoal pencil and, with a few quick strokes, captured the flustered, handsome boy in front of me. As he stood there, shifting his weight, not knowing what to do with his hands, I tore the page out and handed it to him. “That boba place never has a two-for-one special,” I said. “Here. Payment.” He stared down at the sketch of himself, a slow smile spreading across his face. He carefully folded it and tucked it into his pocket like it was a winning lottery ticket. Later, he would call it our first love letter. He slung my heavy art portfolio over his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and we fell into step beside each other. He told me my videos had been his escape during the soul-crushing pressure of senior year and college applications. “You mean those stupid comedy skits? I’m glad they made you laugh.” He stopped walking, turning to face me with an almost shocking intensity. “They weren’t stupid,” he said, his voice earnest. “They were… warm. Full of life. They made me feel like I wanted to get closer to the person making them.” As he spoke, he took a half-step closer. He told me I was the reason he’d chosen this university. The summer breeze drifted between us, carrying the scent of cut grass and distant traffic. I thought I could hear a heart beating, fast and unsteady. Maybe it was his. Maybe it was mine. On my birthday, he showed up at my dorm with a cake he’d baked himself, his face lit with a smile so pure it almost hurt to look at. “Happy birthday, Quinn,” he said softly. “You made it another year. You’re doing great.” That night, there was still a smudge of frosting at the corner of his mouth. On impulse, I leaned in and kissed it away. A light, feather-soft touch. Leo froze, his eyes widening in shock. In the silence that followed, his body betrayed him. We both looked down. He looked away, mortified, tugging at the hem of his hoodie to cover himself. “Oh, God. I’m… I’m so sorry, I…” Seeing him so flustered, his ears glowing red as he tried to explain himself into a hole, I couldn’t help but laugh. My laughter made his entire face flush. He bit his lip, humiliated, and pulled his hood up over his head, hiding everything but his mouth. I knelt, resting my hands on his knees, and found his lips again. His almond-shaped eyes, shimmering with a desperate, restrained need, met mine. “Is this… is this okay?” he whispered. I smiled and nodded, and my answer was lost in a soft cry… He held my face in his hands, kissing me from my forehead to the tip of my nose. He was clumsy and inexperienced, but so achingly eager. “I’ll take responsibility,” he whispered against my skin, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ll get married. Right after graduation. Quinn, baby, we’ll get married right after graduation, okay?” Eventually, I graduated. And then, so did he. But that wedding, our graduation ceremony, never came. 4 I squatted by the side of the road, waiting for a ride. An hour passed. My legs were completely numb by the time a cab finally pulled over. The driver asked me where I was going. I paused, then just named the closest hotel. Inside the sterile room, I stared at the empty chat window with Leo. My heart felt just as hollow. I was the one who said it was over. So why was I the one who felt like this? I sniffled, my thumb hovering over his name before I finally removed him from my “pinned” contacts. As I did, his profile picture lit up. A new post. The caption: Single and loving it. The likes were already pouring in. A screenshot popped up on my phone from Maya, my old college roommate. [Saw the post. Are you two really done?] [Yeah.] The three dots appeared and disappeared for a long time. Finally: [So… if you’re broken up, is it okay if I try to ask him out?] [To be honest, I had a huge crush on him back when he was a freshman.] [But you got to him first. Now that you’re not together, it’s not like I’d be stepping on any toes.] I thought back to college. How she’d always claim she was bored and tag along on my movie dates with Leo. He could never stand her. “That friend of yours,” he used to mutter in my ear, “she’s bad news.” “Why do you say that?” I’d ask. He’d get irritated. “Just… stay away from her!” I’d always brushed it off as him being jealous, not wanting a third wheel. I never took it seriously. Later, our RA told me Maya was going through a tough breakup. She was withdrawn and quiet, crying in her room all the time. She started avoiding me, and if we passed in the hallway, she’d give me an icy glare. I never understood why. Now, I was starting to get the picture. Maya sent a few more texts, probing for information. [What kind of stuff is he into?] [Does he like spicy food?] I didn’t reply. I just shut my phone off. I slept badly, caught in a tangle of disjointed dreams I couldn’t remember. All I knew was that when I woke up, my pillow was damp with tears. I turned my phone back on. A string of missed calls. All from Leo. A moment later, his name flashed across the screen again. I hesitated, then swiped to answer. His voice was lazy, with the rough, sandpaper edge of someone who’s been up all night. “Your little friend told me you were giving her pointers on how to get with me,” he said, without a hello. “Quinn, you’re a fucking saint to your friends, you know that?” “Honestly, I was getting a little bored of you anyway. What was her name? Maya? Not much to look at, but she has a great body. Thanks for the hookup, ex-girlfriend.” 5 He hung up before I could say a word. I stared at the number, a number I knew by heart, for a long, long time. Then I moved it to my blocked list. Maya’s Instagram story updated. A mirror selfie, wearing nothing but a towel. I laughed, a dry, humorless sound. A single tear tracked a cold path down my cheek. Because I recognized the bathroom behind her. The marble, the fixtures. I’d picked them out myself. It was the apartment Leo and I had shared for two years. The home we’d built together, piece by piece, memory by memory. The emotional backlash was violent, a physical clenching in my chest. It was almost funny. It had been less than six hours since I’d ended things. And he’d already moved someone else in. He’d moved her into our home. Into our memories. He’d taken our past and simply… turned the page. Our five years together had been closed like a book, and he hadn’t even bothered to dog-ear a favorite chapter. I was the one who pushed him away. Yes. I was the one. So I shouldn’t be the one crying. I shouldn’t be the one in pain. But I couldn’t stop the question from tearing through me. Why? Why would he do that? How could he so casually bring her into the space that held so much of us, so many of our beautiful moments? His nonchalance made me question everything. All those promises, spoken with such conviction, such certainty. Were they all lies? Didn’t our five years mean enough to deserve even a little respect? But I was forgetting. Promises made in love have an expiration date. And ours had just passed. I forced myself to take a breath, but my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Maybe I should get drunk. If I’m drunk, the tears will stop. If I’m drunk, I won’t be able to think. This is a celebration. A rebirth. Tearing someone out of your life is an agony. But the first lesson is learning to accept loss. You have to understand. Some people are just chapters, not the whole story. 6 I stayed in that hotel room for three days, a ghost in a tomb of empty bottles. Then, my mom called. Just the usual small talk. I gave her the usual report, telling her I was fine, reminding her to make sure Dad was taking his blood pressure medication. But just before we hung up, she sighed, a soft, weary sound. “Honey, if you’re not happy there… you can always come home.” That’s when I realized. The news reports about Leo and Maya attending some gala together, smiling for the cameras. My parents had seen them. They had seen the man who stood in their living room and swore he would cherish me for the rest of his life, now with another woman on his arm. They knew exactly what it meant. The dam I’d built inside myself finally broke. “Mom,” I choked out, “I miss you guys.” I could hear the smile in her voice, but it was trembling. “This morning, I saw your father looking at one of your baby pictures. He said, ‘My daughter is so beautiful. No one is good enough to marry her. I could just keep her with me forever.’” The sound of her laughter, a little watery, came through the phone, and I found myself laughing through my own tears. The shared sound hung in the air for a moment before fading back into silence. “If you’re not happy out there,” she said again, her voice soft, “just come home. Your dad and I… we miss you too.” “Okay,” I whispered. After I hung up, I noticed a single sliver of sunlight had forced its way through a gap in the heavy blackout curtains. The dark room seemed a little warmer. I pulled myself up from the floor, my bare feet navigating the minefield of empty bottles. I walked to the window and threw back the curtains. The light flooded in, painfully bright. I raised a hand to shield my eyes, and as they adjusted, I saw it. It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky. 7 I started sending out my resume. Everywhere. But a two-year gap in my work history made things difficult. During my senior year internship, I’d been followed home by an obsessive fan. It escalated until the police had to get involved. Leo was terrified. He held me, begging me not to go back to work, promising he would take care of me. Truthfully, I was terrified too. If Leo hadn’t shown up when he did… I don’t know what would have happened. So I shut it all down. I deleted the account, cut off all my social media. I put down my paintbrushes and picked up cookbooks. My life became a revolving door of nutritional recipes and home-making projects. My world shrank until it was just Leo, my moods rising and falling with his. And for a while, it was good. It was happy and sweet. But then… His work got busier. He came home later and later. There was always the faint, unfamiliar scent of women’s perfume clinging to his clothes. The worst fight we ever had was after his stunningly beautiful secretary brought him home, completely drunk. There was a pale pink lipstick smudge on the inside of his collar. That was the first time I tried to leave him. He sobered up instantly, promising to fire anyone who tried to come between us. The secretary was gone the next day. It felt like a victory, but I knew, deep down, I hadn’t won anything. Because after that, we stopped fighting about other people. But we never stopped fighting. It could be about the soup being too salty. It could be about the pothos plant on the windowsill that had finally died. Shaking myself from the memories, I sighed. I opened the social media app I hadn’t touched in years and posted for the first time. Hey, guys! Guess who’s back?! I watched the likes and comments start to trickle in. I looked out the window, at the vast, open sky. You can’t stumble forever, I told myself. My luck had to turn eventually. I would allow things to be as they are. 8 I had two interviews that afternoon, so I grabbed a quick lunch at a convenience store. And of course, that’s when it happens. You always run into the last person on earth you want to see when you look your worst. Leo was leaning against the wall outside, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. He looked thinner. The weight loss had sharpened his jawline, making him look more intense, more handsome. He was waiting for someone. Maya, who emerged from the designer boutique next door. I tried to turn away, to disappear into the crowd, but she spotted me. “Quinn! Over here!” she chirped. “I told you it was her, see?” She tucked her arm possessively through Leo’s. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes swept over me, and a small frown creased his brow. “Quinn, what are you eating?” Maya said, pointing at the half-eaten rice ball in my hand with theatrical disgust. “All those cheap carbs will make you bloated.” She turned to Leo, her voice syrupy sweet. “Honey, Quinn is my best friend. Without her, there’d be no us. You have to treat our matchmaker to a proper meal!” Before I could refuse, Leo let out a dry, humorless laugh. “She’s right. We should thank my ex-girlfriend for being such a generous matchmaker.” He bit down on the last two words, making them sound like an insult. Maya’s smile faltered for a second, but she recovered, grabbing my bag and pulling me along with them. The entire meal was a performance, with Maya as the star, showcasing their perfect relationship. “Oh, by the way, Quinn,” she said, setting down her wine glass. “Leo and I are getting married. You know I don’t have many friends, so I was hoping you would be my maid of honor.” She looked at me, her eyes wide and innocent. “You have to come! I mean, since you and Leo have history… you being there would prove that you’ve really moved on, that you’re genuinely happy for us. It would stop people from gossiping, you know? We don’t want any… misunderstandings.” I drained my glass of red wine and met her gaze. “Misunderstandings about what?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. “That you two started things the second we were over?” Maya sat up straight, her face flushing. “Don’t look at us like that. We got together after you broke up with him. We don’t owe you anything. Honestly, you’re being really petty. Can’t you just be happy for us?” Leo remained silent, a passive observer in our war of words, but his silence was its own form of agreement. Seeing that he wasn’t going to defend me, a triumphant smirk played on Maya’s lips. I was now officially the bitter, pathetic ex-girlfriend, slandering the happy new couple. The boy who once made eighteen separate burner accounts to defend me against online trolls, the boy who swore he would always have my back, was now sitting across from me, his expression soft as he watched another woman tear me down. I managed a small, tight smile. “When’s the wedding?” Maya froze for a second, caught off guard. Leo answered without missing a beat. “Next month.” He looked at me, his eyes cold and arrogant. “From what I hear, you haven’t found a job yet. So, you should have the time, right, Quinn?” A cold shock went through me. I remembered something he’d once said, boasting about crushing a rival company. “Anyone who pisses me off,” he’d bragged, “I’ll make sure they can never work in this city again.” Ever since his long-lost father—a ridiculously wealthy CEO—had found him and brought him into the family business, Leo’s power and influence had grown exponentially. He could do it. He really could. All my recent job-hunting frustrations suddenly clicked into place. The endless rejections, the HR managers who seemed promising on the phone and then suddenly went cold, their vague, apologetic emails. It all made sense now. Something inside me, the last fragile thread connecting me to him, snapped. I had followed him to this city right after graduation. Now, there was nothing left for me here. I looked up, meeting Leo’s mocking gaze. “Sorry,” I said, my voice even. “I can’t. I have to go back to my hometown next month.” Leo’s brow furrowed, an automatic, almost instinctual question escaping his lips. “For what?” “My mom’s setting me up on some dates.”

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The call came from a frantic teacher on the bus, her voice cracking over the phone. “There’s a man… he has a gun.” As the director of the Bright Beginnings Preschool, I did the only thing I could: I called 911. My husband, Mark, a lead negotiator for the city police, arrived on the scene. But instead of taking charge, he gestured to the young intern at his side. The intern, Chloe, pouted, her lower lip trembling just so. “Mark, honey, I’ve never done a real one before. I don’t know what to say.” A fond, indulgent smile spread across my husband’s face. “Hey, don’t worry,” he said, his voice a low murmur meant only for her. “Just talk to him. Follow your instincts. I’m right here.” Three sentences in, the hijacker’s furious shouting had Chloe’s face burning red. Panicked, she screamed into the receiver. “You’re a dead man! The director’s son, Leo, is on that bus! She’ll make sure you rot in prison for this!” The hijacker, enraged, decided to make an example of someone. A child was murdered. Moments later, a police sniper took the hijacker down. In the chaotic aftermath, I saw my husband wrapping his arms around a sobbing Chloe. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “No one can guarantee a negotiation will work one hundred percent of the time.” Then, he walked over to me, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s hard,” he said, his voice flat. “Leo was unlucky. It has nothing to do with Chloe.” He paused, leaning in closer. “Maybe you could put out a statement for her. Something about her courage and quick thinking, how she prevented more casualties.” I stared at him, the world tilting on its axis. It took a full second for his words to register. He thought the child who died… was my son. Our son. A cold, brittle laugh escaped my lips. “I could write one,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “But I don’t think you two would want to receive it.” 1 When Mark and his intern had first arrived, he’d immediately turned to her. “Chloe, you take point on this one. It’s a valuable field experience.” Chloe’s lip did its signature pout, her voice a saccharine drawl. “Oh, Mark… I’m so nervous. It’s my first time, I don’t know where to even start…” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I rushed forward and grabbed Mark’s arm. “Are you insane? There are twenty-two children on that bus. This is Chloe’s first time in the field? It’s too reckless!” Mark violently shook my hand off. “Audrey, what do you know about this? I’m well aware of Chloe’s professional capabilities. Stop getting in the way.” He turned back to Chloe, his expression softening as he gave her shoulder a supportive squeeze. “Don’t be scared. Just trust your gut and give it a try. I’m right here to back you up, no matter what.” Watching them, so wrapped up in their own private world, a chill snaked up my spine from the concrete. The other parents, who had started to gather, were a mess of tears and frantic prayers, the scene descending into chaos. The negotiation line connected. Chloe took a deep breath, forcing a cloying sweetness into her voice. “Hello, sir, my name is Chloe Hayes, I’m a crisis negotiator. I’m asking you to please remain calm, we can talk about your needs…” She was cut off by a raw, guttural scream from the phone. “Talk about my ass! Get me a car and cash, now, or I start killing kids!” Chloe froze, her face flushing a deep, mottled red. Humiliated, she lost all composure and shrieked back into the phone. “You’ll be sorry! Do you have any idea whose bus you’ve taken? The director’s son, Leo, is on that bus! You touch a hair on any of those kids’ heads, and she will make sure you never see the light of day again! The police will put a bullet in your head!” “Chloe, shut up!” The words tore from my throat. My blood ran cold. “What are you doing? You’re going to get him enraged!” Chloe whipped her head around, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “Director Reed, you don’t understand negotiation tactics, so don’t interfere! I’m applying psychological pressure.” She then turned to Mark, her eyes welling up with tears. “Mark, do you see this? She’s… she’s interfering with my work…” Mark’s glare was like a physical blow. “Audrey, be quiet. Chloe is a professional. I trust her judgment. Stop causing trouble.” But on the other end of the line, the hijacker had, predictably, been pushed over the edge. His voice was a venomous roar. “Leo? The director’s kid? Fine! Just fine! He’ll be the first to go! A warning to the rest of you!” “Who’s Leo? Get your ass up here, now!” The bus erupted with the terrified screams of children. Small silhouettes scrambled away from the windows, huddling together in fear. My heart seized, along with those of every parent there. Several mothers looked like they were about to collapse. But Chloe, as if determined to prove herself, leaned into the microphone again, her voice a taunt. “You think you’re tough? Go on, try it! You’ll never get away with it! You’ll die, too! You’re nothing but a coward who preys on children!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I lunged towards her. “Chloe, you don’t care about anyone else, but what about your own child? Liam is on that bus, too!” A flicker of surprise crossed her face, quickly replaced by a cold sneer. “Audrey, what are you talking about? My son doesn’t even go to your preschool. He’s at his grandmother’s today. How could he possibly be on that bus?” She turned back to Mark, her voice dripping with manufactured sweetness. “Mark, see? She just has it out for me. She’s trying to throw me off my game…” Mark’s face was a thundercloud. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back roughly. “Audrey, I told you to back off, didn’t you hear me? You interfere with this investigation again, and I’ll have an officer remove you. Forcibly.” In the instant we were arguing, a corner of the bus curtain was ripped aside. The hijacker’s eyes locked onto a small figure huddled in a corner seat. On the back of the child’s backpack, a name was clearly embroidered. He snatched the child, dragging him to the window and screaming hysterically at the crowd outside. “I’ve got him! The director’s son, Leo! Now all of you back the hell off! You surround me, and I’ll kill him right now!” 2 The hijacker pressed the child’s back flat against the windowpane, the glint of a knife blade pressed against his small neck. “Back off! All of you, get back! Get me a car, or he dies right now!” Captain Miller, the on-site commander, his face ashen, spoke low into his radio. “All units, confirm sniper is in position. Wait for a clean shot. Negotiation team, try to de-escalate, buy us some time…” “No!” Mark’s voice cut through the tension. “Captain, give Chloe another chance. The subject is agitated, but Chloe is getting through to him. Changing negotiators or going tactical now will only provoke him. Chloe, quickly, talk to him. Stabilize the situation.” Chloe took a shaky breath and raised the bullhorn again, her voice now filled with a bizarre, self-righteous fury. “To the perpetrator inside! We will not surrender to evil!” “Your only way out is to release the hostages and drop your weapon now!” “Preying on the weak doesn’t make you strong! Go ahead and kill him, but know this: the full weight of the law will come down on you. You’ll get the death penalty!” The parents and I stared, dumbfounded. “What is she saying?” “Is she insane? She’s not even trying to save the child!” As expected, the hijacker was completely enraged. “Fine! Fine! You pushed me to this! You all did!” His broken, desperate roar echoed from inside the bus. Then, a sudden, horrifying spray of crimson splattered across the window. “Ah!” Chloe, standing closest, witnessed the gruesome act firsthand. She let out a piercing shriek and collapsed to the pavement with a thud, her cell phone shattering beside her. She just lay there, sobbing incoherently. The hijacker’s crazed voice started again. “You see that? Now if you don’t back…” CRACK. A single, clean gunshot echoed through the street. The hijacker’s voice stopped. He crumpled to the floor, a bullet hole in his forehead. The scene exploded into motion. Police officers swarmed the bus, carrying out crying children and handing them over to their weeping parents. I stood frozen, my eyes fixed on that blood-stained window, a glacial cold spreading through my body. Just then, Mark rushed past me, straight to the collapsed form of Chloe. He gathered her into his arms, holding her tight, one hand gently patting her back. “Chloe, it’s over, it’s okay…” “It wasn’t your fault. This is how it goes sometimes. No one can guarantee a hundred percent success rate. The guy was a monster. It wasn’t your fault.” Chloe, as if finding her anchor, buried her face in his chest, her sobs becoming more theatrical, more tragic. “Mark… it was… it was so scary…” After comforting her for a long moment, Mark helped her to her feet. Then he turned to me, standing there like a statue, and patted my shoulder. “Audrey, I know you’re in pain.” “Our son is gone. He was unlucky. But this has nothing to do with Chloe, so… don’t take it out on her.” He paused, lowering his voice, a clear warning in his tone. “The department is going to take statements, conduct interviews. When they ask, you know there are things you should say, and things you shouldn’t. Right?” “Chloe’s been through a severe psychological trauma. I need to get her to a counselor. The… arrangements for the child, I’ll have to trust you to handle that for now.” I snapped my head up, looking at him in utter disbelief. Our son? Unlucky? And then it hit me. From the very beginning, they both assumed—they were certain—that the child the hijacker killed, the one he mistook for “Leo,” was my son. 3 An absurd, soul-deep chill spread from my heart to my fingertips. A father, believing his son had just been brutally murdered, and his first instinct wasn’t to collapse in grief, not to see his child one last time, but to comfort another woman and coach me on what to say to the police? I took a deep breath, my voice dangerously level. “Mark, you’re mistaken. The boy who died… it wasn’t Leo.” I held his gaze. “It was Liam. The names are similar. The hijacker must have misheard.” The air crackled with a sudden, tense silence. Chloe stared for a second, then let out a scoffing laugh. “What are you even talking about? Audrey, just because your son is dead, you’re going to curse someone else’s child?” Her expression shifted to one of wounded innocence. “Are you doing this just to get back at me? Blaming me because the negotiation didn’t go perfectly?” Mark’s face darkened, his eyes filling with disappointment and accusation as he looked at me. “Audrey, all the other children were rescued. The only one missing from the roster is Leo. That’s a fact.” “Instead of cooperating with the police and making arrangements for Leo, you’re standing here saying these… these vicious things. What kind of mother are you?” Seeing his performance of righteous indignation, I almost wanted to laugh. “I’m not a good mother?” “And what about you, Mark? You thought Leo was dead. So why weren’t you sad? Why wasn’t there a single tear in your eye? Why aren’t your eyes even red?” My question stopped him cold. A flash of panic crossed his face before it was replaced by anger. “I was on the job! I have to maintain my professional composure! Unlike you. You’re the director of that preschool, and you couldn’t even protect your own students. You let a maniac get on that bus and cause this tragedy. After this, I doubt your preschool will even be allowed to stay open.” His words were cold, cruel. I looked at the face I once knew, now twisted into the mask of a stranger, and my heart sank to the bottom of a cold, dark well. Chloe, feigning distress, tugged on Mark’s sleeve, tears instantly appearing in her eyes. “Mark, honey, don’t fight because of me. It’s my fault. If I just had more field experience, maybe… maybe Leo would still be alive…” Mark pulled her into a protective embrace. “Chloe, don’t you dare blame yourself. It’s okay. Don’t cry.” He turned back to glare at me. “Audrey, that’s enough. Do you think losing a son gives you a free pass to bully people?” “I’m letting it go this time. You need to go home and think about what you’ve done.” Seeing that I was no longer speaking, Mark assumed he had silenced me. He didn’t give me another glance, turning all his tenderness to Chloe. “Chloe, don’t pay any attention to her. Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out.” They turned and walked away, never once looking back at the blood-stained school bus. The police tried to contact Liam’s family several times, but Chloe’s phone went unanswered. Liam’s information wasn’t in my preschool’s official records, so as the director, I had no authority to sign off on any paperwork. During my official debriefing, I recounted the entire incident in meticulous detail, including every word of Chloe’s negotiation. 4 The moment I walked through the front door, Mark stormed towards me, his face radiating fury. He slammed a file folder down on the table in front of me. “Audrey, look at what you’ve done!” His face was contorted, his voice tight with rage. “What the hell did you say in your statement? Why did you have to emphasize that it was Chloe’s first negotiation? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve completely destroyed her career!” I slowly lifted my head. “I told the truth. You didn’t think she did anything wrong, did you? So how could the truth possibly destroy her?” “You…!” Mark’s finger trembled as he pointed at me. “What good does the truth do now? If Chloe has a child’s death on her record from her very first field case, her career is over before it even started! And I, as her supervising mentor, will face a severe reprimand! Don’t you understand that?” He took a deep breath, his tone shifting to one of command. “You are going back to the station right now, and you’re going to tell them you were in shock, that you misremembered. You’re going to say Chloe was brave and did everything she could to de-escalate.” “And furthermore, as Leo’s mother, you are going to issue a formal letter of understanding. You’ll also give her a public commendation, stating that you understand and appreciate her efforts… That’s the only way to make this go away.” I looked at him as if he were a complete stranger. To protect Chloe, he was asking me to lie, to rewrite reality. I slowly shook my head, my voice firm. “I can’t issue a letter of understanding. I don’t have the right.” “If you don’t have the right, who does?” Mark roared, his patience completely gone. “You won’t write it? Fine! I’ll write it! I’m still Leo’s legal father. I have that right!” I stared straight into his eyes, a chilling disbelief washing over me. “Mark, you would go this far for her? Don’t you realize you’d be falsifying a report? That’s illegal!” Mark let out a bitter laugh. “Do you know how hard Chloe has worked to change careers? She’s a single mother, busting her ass at the department, trying to get a foothold. So a small accident happens, and we should help her out. Why is your mind so twisted? Can’t you stand to see anyone else succeed?” Just then, his phone rang. Chloe’s hysterical sobs poured through the speaker. “Mark, I can’t do this anymore. Everyone at work is whispering, they’re saying I killed that child… I can’t stay here… I just… I can’t go on living…” Mark’s face instantly flooded with panic. He rushed to soothe her. “Chloe, calm down, don’t do anything stupid! I’m on my way! Just wait for me!” He hung up and shot me a venomous look. “Audrey, I’m telling you, if anything happens to Chloe today, I will never forgive you.” Looking at his cold, determined face, the last shred of affection I held for our marriage evaporated. “Mark, I want a divorce.” He stopped dead in his tracks, his body rigid. “Are you crazy? Our son just died. I’m grieving too. The killer has been shot, what more do you want? Is this really the time to be talking about a divorce?” His tone was dripping with annoyance, as if I were being completely irrational. “If you want a child that badly, once this all blows over, we can just… we can adopt Liam. He’s about the same age as Leo. Once you get to know him, you’ll grow to love him.” He didn’t wait for a response. He yanked open the door and was gone. I stood there, frozen. So that’s how he saw it. A son was just a piece that could be easily replaced. Fine. Just fine. In that case, I didn’t need to show him any mercy at all. I found myself almost looking forward to the moment he discovered the truth. 5 Facing intense public scrutiny, Mark quickly organized a press conference. “As a family member of the deceased,” he began, his voice heavy with performative grief, “I believe that Ms. Chloe Hayes acted with tremendous courage. The external criticism comes from those who do not understand the difficult nature of our work.” A murmur went through the crowd of reporters. If the family had forgiven her, what else was there to say? Chloe, seated beside him, dabbed at the corner of her eye, her shoulders trembling slightly, the picture of a fragile victim. A reporter raised her hand. “Mr. Reed, in your opinion, does the preschool—that is, your wife, Director Audrey Reed—bear any responsibility in this incident?” Mark let out a deep sigh, his face a mask of solemn, familial duty. “Although she is my wife, I cannot let personal feelings cloud my professional judgment. Objectively speaking, there were clear security lapses at the preschool that allowed the perpetrator to board the bus. That is an undeniable failure.” His words sent a shockwave through the room. Reporters scribbled furiously. The tide of public opinion turned on me in an instant. Online, headlines screaming “Director’s Negligence” and “Shut Down Bright Beginnings” began to spread like wildfire. It was then that I stood up from my seat in the back of the room. Mark and Chloe saw me, and the color drained from their faces. I took the microphone offered to me, my voice calm and clear. “Mr. Reed, Ms. Hayes, by your account, this incident resulted in only one casualty. Does that mean that in the eyes of professional negotiators, this can be defined as a ‘successful’ rescue operation?” The question was as sharp as a scalpel. Mark’s expression hardened, his brow furrowing. I turned my gaze to Chloe. “Ms. Hayes, a hypothetical question for you. If you had known that your son, Liam, was on that bus, would you have employed the same aggressive and provocative negotiation tactics?” A flash of panic lit Chloe’s eyes, but she quickly masked it with an air of righteous indignation. “Director Reed, I understand your grief, but please do not profane my professional ethics with such a question!” “It wouldn’t matter whose child was on that bus. I would always adhere to my principles! My conscience is clear!” A cold smile touched my lips. I held her gaze. “So even if it was your child who died, you believe there were no problems with how this case was handled?” Chloe bit her lip, her voice ringing with conviction. “If my child had died on that bus, I would only feel pride. He would have died for a worthy cause!” Mark frowned, cutting in. “Audrey, stop this. Go home.” “I know you’re scared of the online backlash, scared of being held accountable, and that’s why you’re making a scene. Don’t worry. I will face it with you.” He gave a slight nod to the security guards, signaling for them to escort me out. The room buzzed with chatter, the crowd’s eyes on me filled with contempt and anger. I pushed away the guard’s arm and began to clap slowly, a small, chilling smile on my face. “Excellent. Truly excellent. I hope you both remember what you said today. Because you can’t… ever… take it back.” My attitude seemed to infuriate Chloe. She lifted her chin, adopting a posture of untouchable integrity. “Of course I won’t take it back. I, Chloe Hayes, have always acted with a clear conscience!” At that exact moment, the main doors at the back of the conference hall swung open. An old woman walked in, holding the hand of a small boy.

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The afterglow lasted all of ten seconds. Asher rolled off me, sated, and the next sound I heard wasn’t a whispered endearment, but the shrill, digital scream of the System in my head. 【Host, Affection Level has dropped from 99% to 60%! He is clearly unsatisfied with your performance.】 A knot of anxiety tightened in my gut. I spent the next three days spiraling, obsessing, trying to figure out how to improve my technique. And then I heard him, bragging to his friends. “Leah has no idea I can control her progress meter. “It’s like training a dog. She’s good, I bump up the affection level as a reward. She messes up, I drop it to force a course correction. “The first time we slept together? I didn’t get off, so I tanked the score to sixty percent. “I guarantee you, right now, she’s at home researching how to serve me better next time.” 1 A wave of boorish laughter echoed from the private room. I stood frozen in the hallway, a chill seeping into my bones that had nothing to do with the club’s air conditioning. Just three days ago, I was living in a fantasy, convinced my mission was about to succeed. Asher’s affection for me had hit 99%. I was on the one-yard line, a single step away from victory. That night, Asher had held me close, his voice a low rumble. “Leah, I want you.” He’d said that a union of body and soul was the highest expression of love. I’d nodded, compliant, and let myself fall into the rhythm of his movements. It was painful, but I was happy. This new layer of intimacy, I thought, would be the final push I needed to complete the mission and go home. I never imagined it. The moment it was over, Asher’s Affection Level plummeted to 60%. Barely a passing grade. I was baffled, assuming my inexperience had disappointed him. But it was never about me. It was about his control. Inside the booth, the laughter continued. I could hear his friends jeering. “When it comes to training women, Ash is the master. With a cheat code like that, how could Leah not be wrapped around your finger?” “Naturally,” Asher said, his voice thick with arrogance. “These mission girls… they’ll do anything to get that score to one hundred percent. “Take the other night. All I did was frown at her plain white underwear and dial down the affection. Next time? Bet you anything she’ll be in black lace, desperate to please me.” “Damn, dude, that’s genius! You’re a fucking legend, Ash!” “Oh, it wasn’t his idea,” a feminine voice purred next to him. She giggled, a sweet, sharp sound. “I’m the one who told Asher that if you want total control over a woman, you have to crush her emotionally. Make her doubt herself. Then, right when she’s about to break, you give her a little taste of sweetness. She’ll be putty in your hands.” “You’re a clever one, aren’t you?” Asher’s voice was laced with a syrupy affection I’d never heard him use with me. He was talking to the girl on his lap. He’d mentioned her before. Tessa. Lithe body, sultry eyes. The club’s infamous, untouchable VIP hostess. The room erupted in catcalls. “Look at you, Ash, a girl on each arm. You’ve got it made.” “Leah? Don’t make me laugh. She’s a clumsy amateur.” He pulled Tessa closer, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin. “This… this is what it’s really about.” Tessa leaned into him, tapping his chest playfully. “Liar. Then why are you still with her? Am I not enough fun for you?” “I need a wife. A well-behaved pet,” he said, without a hint of shame. “Besides, she’s been trying to complete this mission for so long, I almost feel sorry for her.” He looked down at Tessa, his eyes dark with a raw hunger. “But when it comes to what I want? I’ll always choose a little devil like you.” The two of them tangled together, drawing more hoots from the peanut gallery. “Ash, you’re playing with fire. Aren’t you afraid Leah will just give up?” “Impossible,” Asher said, his confidence absolute. “Every time she gets close to quitting, I just crank the affection back up to ninety-nine percent. With just one point to go, how could she ever walk away? “I’ll keep her dangling like that forever. Always one step away. Always mine to command.” 2 A suffocating weight pressed down on my chest. Asher was right. To get the affection to 100%, I would have done anything. I was so desperate to go home. Three years ago, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. The doctors gave me two months. Then, the System’s invitation appeared: complete a ‘mission’ in this alternate world, and I could return to my own, fully healed. I agreed without a second thought. I was a drowning woman, and this was my driftwood. I threw my entire being into the mission. Anything to raise Asher’s affection level. I swallowed my pride, sanded down my edges, and reshaped myself into the woman I thought he wanted. For three years, every time the score dropped, I would frantically replay every moment, searching for my mistake. I would correct, verify, and adjust. If the number ticked back up, I knew I’d done the right thing. That was how I became his perfect girlfriend. That was how I clawed my way to 99%. This time was no different. I thought if I just studied up, if I could just make him happy in bed, I could win back his affection. So I dedicated myself to it. I watched porn, read erotica, and even bought textbooks. The Joy of Sex, The Hite Report, Guide to Getting It On… I approached sex like a research project. But books weren’t enough. I came to the club tonight to observe, to learn how men and women flirted and connected in the wild. And then, walking past that private room, I heard everything. 3 I had come to the club to learn the art of seduction. Now, my intentions had changed. Wiping the tears from my face, I summoned the System for the first time in ages. “System, I want to go home. Help me forfeit the mission.” That single, overheard conversation had made one thing brutally clear: I would never, ever succeed with Asher. He was dangling a carrot in front of a donkey, and I was the donkey, mindlessly chasing it. Better to go back and spend my last two months with my parents than stay here and be his plaything. But my decision was met with a screech of digital protest. 【Forfeit? Are you insane?! You’re ranked number one out of this entire batch of Hosts!】 I was stunned. “Number one?” 【That’s right! I was counting on your success bonus to fund my retirement! If you quit now, what am I supposed to do?】 “Wait, I don’t understand.” I pulled up my mission panel, checking the numbers again. “Asher’s affection is at sixty percent. How can that possibly be number one?” The System scoffed. 【Who said the rankings are based on the final affection level? That’s an outdated, unscientific metric from the old systems.】 【Every mission has a different difficulty. Some targets start at ninety percent, others start in the negatives. Using a flat one-hundred percent as the goal for everyone is obviously unfair.】 【So, the new-generation Systems evolved. We now use affection volatility as the primary standard. The greater the fluctuation, the greater the emotional impact you’re having on the target.】 【And you, my dear Host, your affection level has been a rollercoaster. Constantly up and down. It proves that he is obsessed with you, fixated, unable to make up his mind.】 【That is true success!】 “…” It took me a moment to process the System’s corporate-speak. But I understood. It was precisely because Asher could manipulate my score at will that my data was so erratic. So volatile. He thought he was training a dog. But he had accidentally played right into the System’s new rules, rocketing me to the top of the leaderboard. A bitter, beautiful irony. A lifeline in the wreckage. Sensing my change of heart, the System pressed its advantage. 【Host, every one-percent change in affection, up or down, adds one point to your score. The rules state that two thousand points is a successful mission. Five thousand points gets you a ten-million-dollar cash bonus! We split it, fifty-fifty!】 【Right now, you’re only six hundred and sixty-six points away from that five thousand! Are you really going to throw away that kind of money?】 I asked carefully, “Are you saying I already succeeded? That I could have gone home, healthy, and you didn’t tell me?” The System had the decency to sound sheepish. 【Well, I wanted the bonus, too. And you’re so talented! You shot to the top of the charts in record time. Any system would be tempted!】 【I’m begging you, Host. Just a little more effort. Six hundred and sixty-six points is nothing for you!】 A fire ignited in my chest. Amid the surging emotions, I found a new, cold clarity. “Seventy-thirty. I get seven million, you get three. Agree, and I’ll keep going.” 【You… you…】 “Think carefully before you answer. If you hadn’t hidden the truth, I would have been home long ago. Why would I stay here and take another second of this abuse for your sake?” The System sputtered, stammered, and finally let out a long, theatrical wail. 【Fine! You drive a hard bargain! I’m being robbed blind by a ruthless capitalist!】

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The year I went blind, I was six. It was the same year I found Leo, half-frozen and left for dead in the snow. I begged my mother to save him, lying that I needed a companion, someone to be my eyes. Later, when we were alone, I whispered a promise in his ear. “I don’t want a guide dog. You just have to live. Go wherever you want to go.” But Leo stayed. After my mother remarried and left, he became the only thing I had. He watched over me as I grew up, my constant guide, my walking cane, my eyes. For my sake, he even abandoned his breathtaking talent for painting to study medicine, to become an ophthalmologist. But even after he became a brilliant eye surgeon, my world remained dark. Then came my 25th birthday. That was the day Sloane, a woman Leo once called his kindred spirit, won a major national art prize. He locked himself in his study. I could hear the rustle of paper, the sharp, angry sounds of tearing. “Just writing you a birthday card,” he said, his voice tight, strained with an emotion he was trying to hide. I smiled, wanting to go to him, to kiss the sadness away. But just as I took a step, a line of text scrolled across the darkness of my vision, stark and terrifying. “Don’t be a fool, little blind girl. He’s tearing up his paintings. On the back of every single one, he’s written ‘Audrey, go die.’” “Stop. Don’t take another step. There’s a frayed electrical cord on the floor in front of you. If you step on it, you’ll be electrocuted.” I froze, just for a second. Then I lifted my chin, forced a bright smile, and took a confident step forward. “Leo,” I called out cheerfully. “Whatever you wished for, I know it will come true.” 1 I walked carefully, deliberately, making sure I wouldn’t miss the frayed wire. Suddenly, Leo’s voice cut through the air. “Audrey!” It was a choked sound, thick with tears, but he didn’t say anything more. I pretended not to notice, my tone light and soothing. “Is your head hurting again? Come here, let me rub your temples.” The text in my mind flashed frantically. “Stop walking, you idiot! The wire is right at your feet!” Good. Right where I can’t miss it. But just as I was about to lower my foot, the doorbell rang, a shrill, piercing sound. It was followed by the violent scrape of a chair being shoved back. “Watch out!” A powerful force slammed into me, throwing me to the floor. My head cracked against the hardwood, my brain rattling inside my skull. The pain was a blinding white light in my endless darkness. Leo’s trembling hands helped me up. “Audrey… I’m so sorry… there was a live wire.” The text was a stream of curses. “What the hell is wrong with you, Leo?! You’re the one who wanted her dead, so why are you shaking now?” My own heart ached. You fool, I thought. Why did you have to go soft? I swallowed the pain and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s my fault, I’m the one who can’t see. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt.” The text exploded. “Is she crazy? Apologizing after he tried to kill her?!” But I knew. I knew that right now, Leo was in more pain than I was. I could hear his ragged, broken sobs. He opened his mouth to say something else, but his phone buzzed. A woman’s voice, clear even through the phone. “I know you’re home, Leo. I’m not leaving until I see you.” A pause. “Please. Think of this… as the last time.” I recognized her voice from the TV interviews. Sloane. The brilliant painter. She and Leo had met years ago, volunteering at a community arts program. He told me he’d found a kindred spirit. Sloane once told me that Leo’s art had more soul than anything she’d ever seen. But now, she was a celebrated artist, and he was a doctor trapped with a blind girl. Leo hated being a doctor. After every long surgery, he’d be sick for hours. His hand tightened on mine, a desperate grip, then suddenly released. He stumbled toward the door. The force of him pulling away sent me staggering backward. Disoriented, the back of my head connected with the sharp corner of the dining table. A warm, sticky wetness began to seep through my hair. “Leo,” I whispered, my voice weak. “It hurts…” The front door slammed shut. My hearing has always been sharp, a small compensation for my lack of sight. Even with the door closed, I could hear their muffled, desperate voices from the hallway. Sloane was crying. “Her eyes are a lost cause, and you know it! You can’t fix them! Those hands of yours… they have more talent than mine ever will!” she pleaded. “Come with me. Meet my mentor. It’s not too late, Leo, as long as you just…” “Sloane,” Leo’s voice was shaking as he cut her off. “I owe her my life.” He took a ragged breath. “She’s blind. If I leave her here… where would I go?” Sloane’s voice was filled with sorrow. “What about your dream? What about… me?” A long, heavy silence passed before Leo answered, his voice raw. “No matter what happens… we’ll always be kindred spirits.” I heard her sob, then the sound of her running down the stairs. “I won’t come back again… If you change your mind, use this to find my mentor.” Lying there on the floor, dizzy from the blow to my head, my mind drifted back to when I was thirteen. Some kids from the blind school had cornered me, and I’d come home with bruises blooming on my skin. Leo had been so furious, he’d insisted on transferring to the school himself, just to protect me. He, a brilliant student, giving up a normal high school to spend his days in a place that taught Braille and cane navigation. He stayed up all night, every night, just to keep up with the advanced curriculum of his old school. Then, when I was fifteen, my mother came to say goodbye. She was getting married again. She clutched my hands, her own tears splashing onto my face. “Audrey, your new stepfather… he can’t help me raise a blind child. It’s been so hard, you have to understand, don’t you?” Her voice was a pathetic whine. “Besides, I found Leo for you. He should be the one to take care of you!” She left with her suitcase, leaving me the old house and Leo. He was only eighteen, taking care of a blind girl, and the stress wore him down until he was a bundle of nerves and exhaustion. I used to cry and beg him to leave, to save himself. But he would just smile and stroke my hair. “Little crybaby. Look at the swallows nesting under the eaves. They always come in pairs. One can’t make it without the other.” But now, the little swallow was tired. He deserved to fly away on his own. I was just a blind girl nobody wanted. If Leo hadn’t held my hand all these years, I would have died a long time ago. I just had to make sure I died somewhere he’d never find me. Otherwise, the guilt would crush him. 2 I pressed a hand to the back of my head, smearing the sticky blood, and managed to pull myself to my feet just as the door opened. “What happened to you?” Leo’s voice was hoarse. “Where did all this blood come from?” The text flashed in my vision. “Is he serious? He’s the one who knocked her over!” I tried to smile. “I’m sorry. I can’t see, I must have tripped over something.” The words were barely out of my mouth when a glass shattered at my feet. “Audrey! How many years have you lived in this house? You still don’t know your way around?” I could hear his heavy, ragged breathing. I clutched the hem of my sleeve, my heart sinking. “I’m sorry, Leo. I’m just useless.” He went to the hall closet and pulled out the white cane that had been gathering dust for years. He grabbed my arm and started dragging me out the door. I couldn’t keep up, stumbling, nearly falling down the porch steps several times, but he didn’t slow down. “Leo, where are we going?” I cried, pulling back in fear. He stopped so abruptly that I slammed my face into his back. I felt a warm trickle from my nose. As I fumbled to wipe away the blood, I heard his voice, frayed and broken. “Audrey! There are millions of blind people in the world! Why can they live normal lives with a cane, but you can’t?” His voice cracked. “I’m not your guide dog! I can’t be your dog forever!” A fist seemed to clench around my heart. He gave me a hard shove from behind, and his cold words drifted back on the wind. “If you don’t learn how to walk the sidewalk on your own tonight, don’t bother coming home.” Then he was gone. His scent, his presence, everything vanished. All I could hear was the wind, the rush of traffic, and the murmurs of passersby. “Is she blind? What’s she doing out here? Trying to get hit so she can sue someone?” Darkness and panic swallowed me whole. I clutched the cane, fighting the urge to scream, and whispered his name under my breath. “Leo, I’m so scared.” When I was little, right after I lost my sight, I could never get used to it. I’d wake up to a world of black and start crying hysterically. Leo would always be the first one in my room, his hand finding mine in the dark. “I’m here. Don’t be scared, I’m right here.” Now, only the wind answered. The text in my mind was a torrent of fury. “Unbelievable! He was the one who swore she’d never need a cane, that he’d be her eyes forever! That bastard!” I wiped away a tear. No, it’s not like that. I’d long forgotten how to use a cane, how to feel for the textured paving of the sidewalk. A blind girl like me… I must be such a burden to him. I walked blindly, tapping the ground, moving toward the loudest sound—the blare of car horns at a busy intersection. Maybe if a car hit me, Leo could finally be that free swallow. But the impact never came. Instead, strong arms yanked me back, pulling me into a fierce embrace. Leo’s body was trembling. His voice was laced with despair. “Audrey, you’re blind, not stupid! Why can’t you learn?” His voice broke. “Out of everyone in the world… why did a blind girl have to be the one who found me?” Why? You fool. Then why are you still holding on to me? I finally broke, the sobs tearing out of me. “You’re right, I’m not stupid! So just go! I don’t want you taking care of me anymore!” When I was five, my parents were getting divorced. They fought every day about who would be stuck with me. They were so busy fighting they didn’t even notice I had a fever high enough to burn away my sight. A child nobody wants can’t even keep her own eyes, I thought back then. That’s why, when I saw Leo abandoned in the snow, my heart broke for him. I didn’t want there to be one more unwanted child in the world who couldn’t even keep his eyes. Leo’s arms tightened around me, his grip weak. “Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t say things you don’t mean.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “If I don’t take care of you, are you going to let a car kill you?” He led me home. He never mentioned the cane again. But I knew he spent more and more time staring silently at the canvases locked away in his study. The next day, I hid in my room and made a call. The person on the other end exploded as soon as she heard my voice. “Why are you bothering me? I have no legal obligation to you anymore!” I sniffled, my nose burning. “Mom… I don’t need you to take care of me. Could you just… pretend to take me in? Just for a little while?” After I swore up and down that I wouldn’t be a burden, she finally agreed, saying that for old times’ sake, she’d pick me up after my half-sister got back from summer camp. I hung up the phone and smiled. It was good. My mother had a new child to love. And Leo could finally get rid of me. 3 When I knocked on Leo’s study door, I heard him frantically putting something away. “What is it? Did you lose something again?” His voice was sharp with irritation. I swallowed hard, then forced a playful smile. “Leo, my mom called. She said she’s doing really well now and feels terrible about everything. She wants me to come live with her. I said yes.” Disbelief colored his tone. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” “I want to live with my mother,” I repeated, my voice steady. He exploded. “Audrey, have you forgotten what she did to you? Haven’t you had enough of her cruelty?” Of course I hadn’t forgotten. In the years after the court gave her custody, she was always out on dates. Sometimes she’d be gone for days, forgetting to even leave money for food. A young Leo would go out in the dead of winter to collect empty bottles, using the change to buy a piece of bread that he’d feed entirely to me. He was just a boy, his own stomach cramping with hunger, but he’d pat my back and lie through his teeth. “It’s okay. I just ate too much.” I found Leo because I wanted him to live. But chained to me, he hadn’t had a single good day. I stood my ground, and Leo’s anger boiled over, but he refused to give in. Sighing inwardly at his stubbornness, I called Sloane. “Please,” I begged her. “Try talking to him one more time.” The day Sloane called him, I had just returned from another fruitless eye exam. The doctor’s sigh was heavy with finality. “This eye condition… if even Dr. Evans can’t do anything, I’m afraid this is how it will be for the rest of her life.” Leo’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. “Audrey, why do you have to be so useless?” Guilt washed over me. All I could say was, “I’m sorry.” Later, I heard Sloane’s heavy voice on the phone with him. “Leo, I’m leaving with my mentor in a few days. Once I’m gone… there won’t be another chance.” A pause. “Is this really… how you want to live the rest of your life?” Leo stared at me, his gaze so intense it felt like he could see right through me. Suddenly, his control snapped. He stormed into his study, grabbed something, and ran out of the house. Listening to the door slam, I felt a strange sense of peace. A day passed, and Leo didn’t come back. Sloane sent me a voice message. “Thank you for letting him go. He’s a natural. My mentor is incredibly impressed.” I was so happy. But I hadn’t eaten anything all day, and the hunger was becoming unbearable. This time, when Leo left, he’d forgotten to leave snacks out where I could easily find them. I used my phone’s voice command to order takeout, but the front door was locked from the outside. Night fell, and Leo still wasn’t back. Acid churned in my stomach. I fumbled my way into the kitchen, trying to find something to eat. But this is how useless a blind person is. I don’t know what I knocked over, but the kitchen caught fire. I scrambled to put it out, but I couldn’t even aim the water in the right direction. The flames spread, and thick smoke filled my lungs. I collapsed, my skin growing numb to the searing heat. “You worthless thing, Audrey,” I sobbed, crawling desperately toward where I thought the door was. “Don’t you die in here!” If Leo came back to find my charred body, he would never, ever recover. The text in my mind screamed directions. “This way, blind girl! Crawl this way, to the left!” I scrambled in the direction it told me, but the smoke was too thick. My consciousness began to fade. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. Leo arrived soon after, with Sloane right behind him. “I was only gone for one day,” Leo murmured, his voice ragged with exhaustion. “Why do you always manage to do this to yourself?” My hands twisted in the starchy sheets. “I’m sorry…” A police officer stood by the bed, his voice stern as he addressed Leo. “How can you call yourself her guardian? How could you leave a blind person home alone?” He gestured at me. “Do you have any idea how close she came to burning to death?” I opened my mouth to defend him, but then I heard Leo’s hollow voice. “Is this it? Every time I try to take a step forward, you pull a stunt like this to remind me that I can never leave your side?” At that moment, Sloane shrieked. “Audrey!” Her voice was sharp with accusation. “You deliberately had me call him, and just when he was about to agree, you do this! You wanted him to feel guilty, to trap him here forever, didn’t you?” I couldn’t see the raw anguish in Leo’s eyes, but I could feel it. And suddenly, I started to laugh. “So what if I did? As long as my eyes are like this, he owes me. He has to be my dog for the rest of his life. Why else do you think I rescued him in the first place?”

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My problem is that I’m a people-pleaser. The kind who takes every word someone says as gospel. So when the girl they raised as their daughter, the one who wasn’t me, threw a tantrum and refused to eat, screaming that the food was “garbage,” I got down on my knees. I picked up the meal she’d thrown on the floor and began to eat it, piece by piece, as if it were a feast. Faced with the shocked expressions of my biological parents, I just gave a weak smile. “She said it was garbage. And that’s what I am. So it’s only right that I eat it.” My parents, their faces etched with pain, rushed to pull me up. But the other girl, Luna, looked like she was about to explode. She pivoted, ran to the open window, and shrieked that she was going to jump. “Your real daughter is back, so what do you need a fake one for? I might as well just die!” As she swung one leg over the sill, my reflexes kicked in. I lunged forward, grabbing her and pulling her back into the room. Then, I looked her in the eyes and spoke with utter sincerity. “Sister, if you want to die, I can help. But people who kill themselves are doomed to wander forever. Do you need me to find you a specialist? I know a team that guarantees a peaceful transition to the other side. Very professional.” That broke her. She scrambled away from me and threw herself into my mother’s arms. “Mom!” she wailed. “She’s trying to kill me!” 1 My mother, Katherine, wrapped her arms around Luna, patting her back and cooing. “Luna, sweetie, your sister didn’t mean it like that. She was trying to help. See? She saved you, she pulled you back from the window.” This only made Luna angrier. “So you’re choosing her over me, is that it?” she sobbed. “Fine! I’ll just go live with Maria. She doesn’t have any kids. I’ll be her daughter and take care of her when she’s old!” With that, she stormed out, leaving the three of us—the family I was supposed to belong to—standing in stunned silence. Katherine came over and gently patted the back of my hand. Her touch was hesitant. “Stella,” she said softly, “you didn’t grow up with us, and your… perspective is a little different. But you have to remember to be patient with your sister. Please, try to let her have her way. She may not be our blood, but we’ve raised her for eighteen years. There are feelings involved. You need to treat Luna like she’s your real sister.” I nodded seriously, etching my mother’s words onto my heart. So that night, when Luna went to go to sleep in her lavish, princess-themed bedroom, she found me already there, my few belongings unpacked. She screamed, a raw, furious sound, and lunged, dragging me off the bed and onto the floor. “Who told you you could sleep in my bed?” she spat, her face inches from mine. “You’re trash!” At that exact moment, my parents rushed in, drawn by the commotion. I looked from Luna’s furious face to my mother’s worried one, genuinely confused. “Mom,” I asked, my voice small. “Luna is my real sister. She said I’m trash. Should I listen to her?” I was stolen as a baby. The woman who bought me soon became pregnant with her own child and, disappointed I was a girl, abandoned me at a remote spiritual community—the Sanctuary. The Elders there raised me. From my first memories, they taught me one thing above all else: listen to others. Obey. If a visitor to the Sanctuary expressed a wish, we had to do everything in our power to fulfill it. And the Elders’ commands were absolute. So now, my sister was calling me trash. I was trying to figure out if this was a new command I was meant to obey. My mother’s face crumpled. She rushed forward and pulled me into a fierce hug. “No, honey, no. She’s just angry. Don’t listen to her.” A wave of relief washed over me. Thank God. I didn’t have to be trash. Katherine straightened up and turned to scold Luna, but Luna had already collapsed onto the floor, wailing. “She’s the one who started it! She took over my room! She’s trying to steal everything from me!” My father, Robert, looked at me, his expression grim. “What is going on here, Stella?” I blinked. “Didn’t my sister say she was going to be Maria’s daughter? I got the housekeeper’s room ready for her in the basement.” I gestured vaguely around the opulent bedroom. “All the other rooms in the house are taken. This one seemed to be empty, so I moved in.” Robert’s stern face flickered from anger to bewilderment. Katherine looked at me like her heart was breaking and melting all at once. She stroked my hair. “Oh, Stella. Honey, you misunderstood. She was just upset. She’s an Ashton. She isn’t really going to be the housekeeper’s daughter.” I scratched the back of my neck, feeling a blush of shame. “I misunderstood again. I’m sorry, sister. But Mom… the way people talk out here is so confusing.” Luna’s face was practically purple with rage. She shoved herself between me and my mother, pointing a finger in my face. “Stella, cut the crap! You know damn well what’s real and what’s not! Stop playing dumb!” I hesitated for a second before pulling a small notepad and pen from my pocket. “Words can be not-real?” I asked, genuinely curious. “The Elders at the Sanctuary always said that those who walk the Path do not speak falsehoods. I’ve never heard anyone say something they didn’t mean.” I looked at her, my pen poised. “Can you teach me how to tell the difference? I really want to learn.” 2 I was being completely serious. But Luna just slapped the notepad out of my hand and turned to our father. “Dad! Do you see this manipulative little witch? Look at her act!” My father wasn’t as soft as my mother. It was obvious he favored Luna. Faced with this chaotic scene, he spoke, his voice sharp. “If you want to know if she’s faking, there’s an easy way to find out. Let’s go see the room she supposedly prepared for you.” His eyes, narrowed and intense, were fixed on me. Luna’s face lit up. “Yes! Let’s go, right now. You can all see what Stella is really like!” I heard her and smiled, nodding eagerly. “Okay! I’d love for you to see the real me, too.” When the four of us arrived at the small, plain housekeeper’s room in the basement, Luna froze. Not only had I made up the simple cot with her expensive, four-hundred-thread-count sheet set, but I had also placed a photograph on the nightstand. It was a picture of her as a child, playing with our housekeeper, Maria. I explained earnestly, “Sister, you said you wanted to be Maria’s daughter, but she might not agree right away. I found this picture of you two and had it printed. I thought it might help your case.” Luna was speechless. My parents, after their initial shock, finally understood. Everything I had said, I had meant. Katherine pulled me into another hug, her voice thick with emotion. “My child… what on earth did they do to you?” I offered a small smile. “I saw it online. I think it’s called being a people-pleaser.” I always take what people say as the absolute truth. I try my best to please them, to do what they ask, even when they don’t actually mean it. I carry out their words to the letter. Katherine held me at arm’s length, her eyes boring into mine. “Stella, listen to me. You are an Ashton now. You don’t have to please anyone. Do you understand?” I nodded, but I didn’t really get it. If you don’t please people, how are you supposed to connect with them? 3 My parents planned a lavish party to formally introduce me to society. The night before the event, Luna approached me, her arm linked with a tall, devastatingly handsome man who radiated an air of cold arrogance. He stopped in front of me, looking down his nose as if I were something he’d scraped off his shoe. “So you’re Stella. I’ve heard all about the things you’ve been doing to Luna.” I smiled, a little embarrassed by the praise. “Oh, it was nothing, really. You don’t have to thank me.” Ever since I’d arrived, I’d been doing everything my sister said. I figured this man must be here to express his gratitude on her behalf. Aidan Pierce’s brow furrowed. His voice grew louder. “Let me make something clear. No matter what little games you play, I love Luna. I would never look at you twice.” I tilted my head, leaning first to my left, then to my right. Whichever way I moved, his eyes followed me. I sighed and told him with genuine regret, “Mr. Pierce, you’ve already broken your promise. You said you wouldn’t look at me twice, but you’ve already looked at me four or five times now.” The frown on Aidan’s face deepened until it could have crushed a walnut. Luna’s face flushed a blotchy red. “Stella, are you insane?!” she shrieked. I nodded sincerely. “Yes, I get terrible migraines. How did you know, sister? Do you have some kind of remedy for them?” Luna rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. I said, with genuine admiration, “Wow, sister. Your eyeball flexibility is incredible.” A core tenet of being a people-pleaser is to seize every opportunity to praise others. Luna, however, snapped her eyes back into place and tugged on Aidan’s arm. “Aidan, darling, you see what I have to deal with?” Aidan grabbed my wrist, his grip like steel. “Don’t play these hot-and-cold games with me. I’m not interested.” Before, I would have tried my hardest to win him over. After all, he was the fiancé my parents had arranged for me. I couldn’t let them down. But just yesterday, my mother had told me I didn’t have to please anyone anymore. So I pulled my arm from his grasp. “Mr. Pierce, I’m not interested in you, either.” I turned to leave, but he stepped in front of me again. “If you really don’t have feelings for me, then go tell your parents to call off the engagement. There has only ever been one Ashton daughter, and that’s Luna!” My old habits kicked in. I nodded. “Okay, Mr. Pierce. I’ll go talk to my parents right now.” Luna lifted her chin, preening like a triumphant peacock. “Oh, Aidan, you’re my hero!” I went and told my parents exactly what had happened. And the next day, at the party, Katherine made a shocking announcement. In front of all their guests, my usually gentle mother declared that the engagement between the Ashton and Pierce families was officially cancelled. Her voice was cold as ice. “We have two daughters. Anyone who does not recognize our biological daughter, Stella, is making an enemy of the Ashton family.” 4 The engagement was off. Luna and Aidan were finished. After several days of crying and throwing fits, Luna’s attitude did a complete 180. She not only apologized to me but also said she wanted us to be the best of sisters. My mother was deeply moved. Then, Luna said she wanted to take me shopping to bond, and asked for ten thousand dollars in spending money. The moment we got to the mall, she started ordering me around. One minute, she’d have me running to get her ice cream. The next, she’d demand I kneel down and tie her shoelaces. Then she would “accidentally” kick me in the face with her sharp-toed heel. And I obeyed every command, took every bit of abuse without complaint. Because she had told me that our parents would only be happy if we had a harmonious relationship. By the end of the day, I was loaded down with her purchases. Bags hung from every inch of my arms, and she had even started hanging smaller ones around my neck. A group of her friends gathered around, giggling. “Luna, where did you find this circus act? The bag handles are leaving bruises on her skin, and she’s too stupid to even put them down for a second.” Luna shrugged, not even bothering to look at me. “She’s the housekeeper’s daughter. Just some idiot who can’t think for herself.” I was confused again, so I had to ask. “Sister, is that a real statement or a not-real one? A few days ago, you were the one who wanted to be Maria’s daughter. How did it become me?” Before I could finish, Luna’s stiletto heel came down hard on the arch of my foot. I cried out in pain. She leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. “Say one more word. I dare you.” I carefully analyzed her statement. This one felt real. So, I followed her command and said one more word. “Sister, I’m the real Ashton daughter. I’m not the housekeeper’s daughter.” The color drained from Luna’s face. Her friends all had expressions of sudden realization. “Oh, so that’s the long-lost daughter everyone was talking about?” “No wonder Luna’s been treating her like this…” “I wonder what her parents would think if they saw their real daughter being treated like a pack mule?” Luna tried to stomp on my foot again, but this time I dodged. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Go home! Get out of my sight and go back to the house right now!” For the first time since I’d arrived, I shook my head. “I can’t.” “You can’t?” I glanced at the credit card in Luna’s hand. “Mom and Dad gave me ten thousand dollars to buy things for myself. They said I’m not allowed to come home until it’s all spent.” Luna’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows shot up. “That’s my money!” I blinked innocently. “But sister, didn’t you tell Mom you were taking me shopping to buy me clothes? Was that a not-real statement, too?” The group of wealthy girls around us burst into laughter. Luna, humiliated, threw down the bags she was holding and ran off. I looked down at the mountain of shopping bags at my feet and smiled. What a productive day. 5 After two days of silence, Luna came up with a new plan. She told my mother I was uneducated and needed to go to school. My parents agreed, telling me to be a good girl and listen to my sister at school. The moment we arrived, Luna gathered a crowd around me. “Stella,” she asked with a smirk, “what did you do before you came here?” I answered honestly. “I used to sweep the grounds at the Sanctuary.” I grew up there, isolated. I didn’t have many skills, so sweeping was my main job. But the circle of kids around me roared with laughter, their amusement quickly turning to disgust. “A janitor? How dare she come to our school?” “That’s so gross. I can’t believe I have to be in the same class as someone like that.” Listening to their hateful words, I blinked and asked, “So, none of you ever have to sweep?” Another wave of laughter. Luna, perched on a nearby desk, tapped my shoulder with the pointed toe of her designer heel. “Stella, stop being pathetic. You’re looking at the heirs to some of the biggest corporations in the country. Do you really think any of them have ever held a broom?” She glanced out the window. “Actually, the courtyard is looking a bit dirty. Why don’t you go sweep it?” Sweeping was something I was good at. I found a broom and went outside. I had barely started when Luna and her friends followed me out. “Is that how you used to sweep at the Sanctuary?” she asked. I nodded. She shook her head. “No, that’s not right. Back then, you were bald!” The moment she said it, they were on me. A group of them tackled me, pinning me to the ground. I felt the cold, sharp snip of scissors at my hair. A nightmare from my past slammed back into me. I started to fight, thrashing wildly. “No! Don’t touch my hair! Stop!” “Get off me! All of you, get off!” But Luna just shouted over my struggles, “Do it! Cut it all off! And when you’re done, use the clippers to shave it clean!” Hands held me down, pressing my face into the dirt. The sound of scissors snipping echoed in my ears, punctuated by their cruel laughter. I begged them to stop, but they wouldn’t. “Stella, you were basically a nun. Nuns don’t have hair!” “Yeah! We heard you were always bald. We’re just helping you get your memory back!” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the so-called memories they were talking about. They were the deepest, most terrifying scars on my soul. When they finally let me up, I knelt on the ground, surrounded by clumps of my own hair. Tears streamed down my face, landing silently in the dust. Luna was cackling, holding up her phone and taking pictures of me from every angle. She shoved the screen in my face. “Look, sister. Do you like your new haircut?” The girl in the photo was a monster. They had given me a sick mockery of a hairstyle—one half of my head was shaved completely bald, the other half left with long, ragged strands. Luna tapped her phone screen. “A picture this good is a shame to keep to myself. I think I’ll just help you share it with the world.” After posting it across every social media platform she could think of, she grinned at me, her eyes glinting with malice. “Are you angry now, sister? I bet you are. But being angry is useless. Unless you have the guts to fight back!” The world clicked into place. I understood. This was a command. My sister wanted me to fight back. So I snatched the scissors from the hand of a girl standing nearby and lunged, plunging them toward Luna’s stomach.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384976”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The same day I won the Golden Muse, I was accused of sleeping with the heir to the Lockwood empire. My rival, a rising starlet named Scarlett Hayes, posted the question for the whole world to see: 【What exactly were you trying to do, sneaking into my boyfriend’s room in the middle of the night?】 【Some people just don’t know their place!】 Her followers descended on me like wolves. Endorsement deals vanished overnight. I was, in the blunt and brutal language of the internet, canceled. Later, Liam Lockwood—the so-called heir—would broadcast his engagement party to Scarlett, a lavish affair streamed live for millions. But the celebration couldn’t begin. It couldn’t start because the true power of the Lockwood family, and the woman he worshiped, had not yet arrived. 1 #AudreyThorne: Homewrecker?# #AudreyAndLiamLockwood# #CancelAudreyThorne# The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes were the trending topics, glowing like poison on my phone screen. The second was the non-stop flood of calls from my agent. My head was spinning. I had no idea what was happening. I clicked the top hashtag. Dozens of gossip sites were circulating the same grainy photograph: me, alone, slipping into Liam Lockwood’s hotel room late last night. The story was technically true, but stripped of all context. After my acceptance speech, the studio had called. Liam Lockwood, the family’s notorious playboy heir, wanted to discuss a collaboration. They gave me a room number. On any other night, with any other man, I would have refused. A midnight meeting? Please. But Liam was Arthur’s nephew. And Liam had a reputation for being erratic, for playing by his own rules. A spontaneous, late-night business discussion wasn’t entirely out of character for him. When I got there, he claimed it was a mistake, that he’d been expecting someone else. I was in and out of that room in less than thirty seconds, utterly confused. But according to the internet, I was a predator, sinking my claws into Scarlett Hayes’s man. The worst part? I hadn’t even gone alone. My agent, Dana, had been right beside me. They’d just cropped her out of the picture. I was about to type out a clarification when a new hashtag shot to number one. It was Scarlett. She’d posted a new statement, aimed directly at me. 【What exactly were you trying to do, sneaking into my boyfriend’s room in the middle of the night?】 【Liam and I are rock solid. Some people should learn their place.】 Liam himself replied in the comments. I’ll only ever love my baby girl. Sent her packing last night, btw. Tell me I’m a good boy If there had been any doubt before, the golden boy of New York high society had just confirmed the narrative. The internet exploded. 【WHOA. I never would have guessed Audrey Thorne was that kind of person.】 【Always knew there was something off about her. So desperate. I bet she slept her way to that award, too.】 【My girl Scarlett is the real deal, the heir’s actual girlfriend, and she never uses her connections to get ahead. She relies on talent. Audrey is just disgusting.】 I saw it clearly then. This wasn’t just a misunderstanding. This was a calculated hit, designed to use my new-found fame as a stepping stone for theirs. Dana’s call finally broke through. “Those little shits!” she screamed, her voice cracking with rage. “Scarlett Hayes doesn’t have the talent to win a goddamn raffle, so she pulls this? After you beat her for the Muse? This is capital-B Bullshit! Our people can’t even post a comment defending you. They’re being silenced, accounts suspended. The bots are working overtime. I’m going to kill someone!” I started to speak, but a strong hand wrapped around my waist and gave me a playful squeeze. “Don’t,” I mumbled. There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by an even louder roar. “Did you just tell me not to?! Audrey, have you SEEN what’s happening?!” “Sorry, Dana. Not you,” I sighed. I shot a glare at the man beside me, but he just nuzzled his face against my cheek, his morning stubble scratching gently. “Morning, my love…” His voice was a low, sleep-gravelly murmur, but it was close enough for the phone to pick it up. Before Dana could detonate, I ended the call. I turned to face Arthur, who just grinned and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. “Kisses, please…” “Kisses, my ass! Look at what your wonderful nephew has done!” I shoved my phone into his hands. Arthur took it, his smile fading as his eyes scanned the screen. The warmth in his expression vanished, replaced by a cold, quiet fury. His entire demeanor shifted. “I will make him kneel and apologize to you.” “Don’t.” I let out a short, sharp laugh and held up a hand to stop him. “I’ll handle this myself.” I looked at Arthur’s face, that handsome, infuriating face, and snapped a quick picture. Then I opened my social media. 【Not interested, already married, and way out of your league. My husband, for the record.】 2 Arthur Lockwood. The youngest son of the Lockwood patriarch, and the true, undisputed head of the family. His father had sent him abroad for his education, and even after returning to the States, he rarely set foot in the family’s ancestral Manhattan townhouse. The press knew the reclusive powerhouse was married, but no one knew what he or his wife looked like. Even within the Lockwood clan, only the old man himself knew the truth. The moment I posted that photo, the internet—and my agent—collectively lost their minds. Dana showed up at my front door an hour later, radiating pure fury. She stormed into the foyer, ready for war, and then froze solid when she saw Arthur standing in the living room. “Hello. I’m Arthur Lockwood,” he said, his voice calm and polite. Even though she’d just seen his picture, the man in person was another story entirely. Dana’s jaw went slack. “You… hi… hello,” she stammered, fumbling in her purse. “I’m, uh, Audrey’s agent. Dana. Here’s my card.” She practically threw it at him. Then, her professional instincts kicked in. “That face. You were born to be in front of a camera. Mr. Lockwood, have you ever considered acting? Give me a year—no, six months—and I’ll make you the biggest star on the planet.” Arthur offered a gracious, small smile. “Thank you, but no.” With that, he turned and headed for the kitchen. “My love, I’m making you breakfast.” Dana’s attention snapped back to me. “What is going on?! When did you get married? Why didn’t I know about this?!” “Well,” I said with a cough, “it’s been about three years.” “Three years?!” Her voice climbed an octave. “THREE YEARS?! You kept this from me for three years! Oh my god!” I tried to soothe her. “Look on the bright side. If you’d found out later, I would have kept it from you for even longer.” Dana slapped her thigh in frustration. I grabbed her arm, trying to calm her down. Once she’d caught her breath, she got back to business. “Do you have any idea how many sponsors have dropped you because of Liam’s little stunt? The studio wants to cut its losses. They’re planning to stick you and your… husband… on a reality show. One last paycheck before they terminate your contract.” “Absolutely not.” The refusal was automatic. I could go on a reality show. But putting Arthur in that kind of spotlight? Exposing him to that world? I’d have to be insane. “If you refuse, the studio will sue you for breach of contract. The penalty clause will wipe out everything you’ve earned for the last decade.” Dana looked at me, her expression a mix of pity and exasperation. I opened my mouth to argue, but Arthur re-emerged from the kitchen. “A reality show?” he said, a thoughtful look on his face. “Alright. It might be interesting to see what my wife’s work is actually like.” Hearing his consent, Dana’s face split into a wide grin. “It’s settled, then!” Before I could protest, she was already backing out the door. “No take-backs!” she yelled, then paused as if remembering something. “Oh, by the way. Scarlett Hayes and Liam Lockwood are going to be on it, too. Those two are snakes, and Liam has the family name behind him. You need to be careful, you hear me? Don’t pick a fight you can’t win.” And with that, she was gone. 3 The news that I would be appearing on a reality show with Scarlett and Liam—and my mystery husband—sent the gossip blogs into a frenzy. The comments were a special kind of brutal. 【Seriously? That train wreck is going on TV now? With her photoshopped husband? Does the network have zero consideration for its viewers?】 【That guy’s photo is so obviously filtered. And even if he does look like that, why would he be with her?】 【You can say what you want about Audrey’s character, but you can’t deny she’s beautiful…】 【Who cares if she’s beautiful? She’s a homewrecker! Besides, there’s never been a single rumor about her being married. She probably just hired some actor to clean up her image.】 【Audrey’s always been a serious actress, not an influencer. It’s not like she’s obligated to announce a marriage to the public.】 【She’s not obligated to tell us, but she shouldn’t lie! I don’t believe for a second that she’s married. A woman who chases after rich men like that would never tie herself down to just one.】 I still had a bad feeling about Arthur doing the show. It felt wrong. And seeing the vicious things people were writing about him online made my stomach turn. He, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered. He leaned over my shoulder, reading the comments on my phone. “What’s wrong?” he murmured, a teasing note in his voice. “Are you worried your husband won’t hold up in person?” I just rolled my eyes at him. 4 Filming began three days later. The second Arthur and I arrived on set, the director had a camera crew swarm us. The show was being live-streamed, with a massive screen nearby displaying the real-time comment feed for all the cast members to see. As the camera zoomed in for a close-up on Arthur, he gave it a cool, indifferent glance. Most of the audience had tuned in expecting a freak show, but the moment they saw Arthur’s face, the chat feed erupted. 【OMG OMG, he’s actually that hot?! It’s not a filter?! Where did Audrey find this guy? I want one!】 【Okay, he’s definitely hotter than Liam Lockwood…】 【Audrey, move. It’s my turn.】 【So what if he’s hot? Scarlett’s boyfriend is the heir to the Lockwood fortune! Does Audrey really think parading some hot guy around is going to make everyone forget what she did?】 【Pathetic. Just go away already!】 Arthur and I took our designated seats. Scarlett and Liam were already there. Liam was dressed head-to-toe in bespoke designer clothes, a watch worth more than my first apartment strapped to his wrist. He shot us a look of pure disdain, his face a mask of cold arrogance. He was trying to intimidate us. But whatever pressure he thought he was projecting, it dissolved the moment it met Arthur’s calm gaze. It was like watching a housecat try to stare down a panther. After a few seconds, Liam’s composure cracked. He broke eye contact, his expression souring. The tight line of his mouth was a clear sign that the great Lockwood heir was annoyed. Scarlett, nestled against his side, smiled sweetly. When she saw me, she stood up and waved. “Audrey! You made it! Come, sit.” The live-feed comments scrolled by. 【Scarlett is just so kind and classy. Even after everything Audrey did, she’s still so polite.】 【She’s just rising above it. She doesn’t want to sink to that trashy woman’s level.】 I ignored her. On camera, Scarlett didn’t let her smile falter. But as I sat down, she leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “I have to hand it to you, I underestimated your nerve. Finding some pretty boy to play your husband just to save your career.” She looked Arthur up and down. “Mm, he is handsome. But these days, looks aren’t enough. You need power, connections. I hope you two enjoy starving together.” She pulled back just as quickly, her public smile snapping back into place. “We’re so happy you could join us.” I opened my mouth to respond, but Arthur put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer. “Audrey, my love,” he said, his voice carrying just enough for the microphones to pick it up. “Do you hear a dog barking?” A smile touched my lips. “I do,” I replied. “A rabid one, it sounds like.” Scarlett’s face hardened. She clearly hadn’t expected us to be so openly dismissive. There were three couples on the show. Besides us and Scarlett and Liam, there was a popular starlet named Tinsley and a young actor from her studio, Jason. They weren’t a real couple, just a work pairing. Before Scarlett could retort, Tinsley jumped to her defense. “Audrey, that is so out of line! Scarlett is a respected artist! How dare you and your… kept man… insult her like that!” Scarlett’s eyes welled up with crocodile tears. She tugged on Tinsley’s sleeve. “It’s okay, Tins. Audrey’s always had a bit of a temper. We all know that behind the scenes. Liam and I don’t mind.” And there it was. Another label pinned on me: the angry, difficult diva. Tinsley shot me a dirty look and put a protective arm around Scarlett. “Well, you and Mr. Lockwood are generous for putting up with her.” Scarlett just smiled graciously. Seeing his opening, the director hurried over to prevent me from speaking. “Alright, everyone! Let’s get the show started!” 5 The show was being filmed in a small, rustic village upstate. The producers had originally booked a standard bus for transport, but with the arrival of Liam Lockwood, they’d upgraded to a fleet of luxury SUVs. As soon as we settled into the plush leather seats, Tinsley sighed dramatically. “Oh, this is so much better. I’m a regular on this show, and let me tell you, the bus they usually give us is a nightmare. We have Scarlett and the Prince of New York to thank for this upgrade!” She then shot a smug look at Arthur, who was sitting beside me. “I bet some people have never ridden in a car this nice in their entire lives.” I nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. We haven’t.” Not one this cheap, anyway. I turned to Arthur, my expression full of mock sympathy. “You must be suffering.” A slow smile spread across his face as he toyed with my fingers. “As long as I’m with my wife, I’m not suffering at all.” Seeing us laughing together seemed to infuriate Tinsley, who was left sputtering, unable to think of a comeback. Scarlett, meanwhile, rested her head on Liam’s shoulder. “Liam, honey. Audrey and her husband seem to get along so well.” A smirk played on Liam’s lips. “She didn’t seem so happily married the other night.” The comments on the live-feed went wild. 【LOL, Liam’s burns are legendary! How does that feel, Audrey?】 【I wonder how much Audrey is paying that guy per day to be so cooperative.】 【Can I get his number? I’d book him for a month.】 Scarlett and Tinsley giggled, delighted by Liam’s jab. Scarlett gave Tinsley a subtle nod. Tinsley, ever the loyal attack dog, turned her attention back to me. “Audrey, the internet is blowing up with people calling you a shameless homewrecker for what you did. What are your thoughts on that?” A cold smile touched my lips. “My thoughts? I think it’s fascinating to watch a pack of hyenas invent a narrative out of thin air. It’s like watching someone sprint to catch a turd someone else just dropped. You know why the delivery guy only ever brings you one package at a time?” Tinsley instinctively asked, “Why?” “Because you’re a single-use tool.” “You—!” It took her a second, but when it landed, she looked like she wanted to lunge at me. Scarlett quickly grabbed her arm. “Audrey, you should really try to be more humble. I can forgive how you treat me, but we’re on a show right now. We all have to get along. Bullying Tinsley like this is just too much.” Tinsley immediately started playing the victim, slumping against Scarlett with a pained expression. 【OMG, I am so mad right now I could literally slap that bitch through the screen!】 【My poor Tinsley was just telling the truth, and Audrey goes nuclear on her!】 I turned my gaze slowly to Scarlett. “You can forgive how I treat you? No matter what? Then kneel and kiss my feet. Let’s see how forgiving you are then.” The color drained from Scarlett’s face, leaving it a blotchy mess of white and red. Liam pulled her protectively into his arms, his eyes, dark and menacing, fixed on me. “Scarlett wanted to do this show, so I’m not going to shut it down. But once this is over, you will pay for every single word you’ve said today.” Arthur’s hand tightened around mine. He met Liam’s glare with a look of utter calm. “We’ll be waiting.” 【Liam is so protective! A true Prince Charming!】 【Only our Scarlett could inspire that kind of devotion. She’s beautiful, kind, and patient, and she never wanted to stoop to Audrey’s level. But that witch pushed her too far!】 【I bet we never see Audrey Thorne again after this show wraps.】 【Does anyone else feel like Audrey’s husband is a little too calm? If it were me, I’d be terrified hearing that from the Lockwood heir.】 【It’s called bluffing. A lot of guys do it. He’s acting tough, but I bet he’s pissing his pants right now.】 The director scurried over to me, his eyes wide with panic. He leaned in and hissed, “Audrey, you and your husband need to tone it down, right now! You can’t afford to offend Liam Lockwood and Scarlett Hayes. If you piss him off and he pulls out, ruining my show, I swear I will make your life a living hell.” After his threat, he turned back to Liam and Scarlett, his face plastered with a sycophantic smile. “Mr. Lockwood, Scarlett! Shall we begin our first game?” Liam just tilted his chin up, a gesture of royal assent. 6 The first game was “Truth or Dare” via a spinning wheel. If you couldn’t complete the task, you had to drink a glass of bitter melon juice. The spinner landed on Liam first. His lips curved into a smirk. “Truth.” “I’ll ask! I’ll ask!” Tinsley’s hand shot up. “Mr. Lockwood, when are you planning to make our beautiful Scarlett an honest woman?” Scarlett blushed on cue, the picture of shy delight. The question sent a ripple through the live-stream audience. Scarlett’s fans immediately started cheering for a wedding, but some viewers were skeptical. 【A family like the Lockwoods… would they really let him marry an actress? Dating is one thing, but marriage…】 【That’s true. I haven’t heard anything about Scarlett coming from a powerful family…】 【What are you talking about? My girl Scarlett is beautiful and kind, why wouldn’t he marry her?】 【She’s at the height of her career! She makes more money than all of you keyboard warriors combined! How dare you say she’s not worthy? Are you?】 【Get real… no matter how famous Scarlett is, she’s still an employee… Liam Lockwood is true capital. He’s part of an empire.】 The debate raged in the comments until Liam spoke. “Scarlett is not beneath me,” he said, his voice laced with indignation. “Our families are of equal standing.” His words silenced the chat for a beat, then caused a full-blown explosion. 【EQUAL STANDING?! OMG!】 【The only family on par with the Lockwoods right now is the Devonshire dynasty… Don’t tell me Scarlett is… a Devonshire?!】 【NO WAY! Our girl never said a word about her family! She built her entire career on her own. She’s a true inspiration!】 Tinsley had clearly put the pieces together. She gasped, looking at Scarlett with wide, envious eyes. “Scarlett, you’re the Devonshire heiress? Is Hayes your mother’s name?” Scarlett looked down, the very image of humble modesty. “Yes…” “I never would have guessed! You kept that hidden so well!” I was taking a sip of water and choked, sputtering. Arthur gently patted my back, handing me a napkin to wipe my chin. I shot him a look. Does my father have a secret daughter I don’t know about? Arthur gave a slight shake of his head, indicating he had no idea either. As if to prove her claim, Scarlett announced, “Let me give my little brother a quick video call, see what he’s up to.” She borrowed her phone from a producer and called a contact simply listed as ‘Leo.’ A few seconds later, Leo’s face appeared on the giant screen. 【OMG! That’s Leo Devonshire! The Devonshire heir!】 Leo was clearly on a yacht somewhere, sun-drenched and carefree. “Hey, Scar. What’s up?” he asked. Scarlett smiled warmly. “Nothing, just on set with Liam. Wanted to say hi and see what you were doing.” Liam leaned into the frame and waved. 【Everyone knows the Devonshire family has two children. The son, Leo, is a total playboy and always in the tabloids. But the daughter is notoriously private, there’s almost no information about her online. I can’t believe it’s been our Scarlett this whole time!】 【This is the best surprise ever for us Scarlett fans!】 It was a big surprise for me, too. So big my jaw nearly hit the floor. Did my dad really have a secret family? And my brother knew about it? My mind started racing, playing out a hundred different dramatic scenarios. My expression darkened. If my father had actually betrayed my mother… “Alright, Scar, I gotta go. Talk later,” Leo said. “Okay, Leo. Have fun!” Scarlett ended the call. Leo Devonshire’s appearance had completely convinced the crew, the director, and the entire online audience. The director, in particular, looked like he’d won the lottery. He thought he’d just landed the Lockwood heir, but now he had the mysterious Devonshire heiress, too. This was a ratings goldmine. He immediately had his team create a new trending topic. #DevonshireHeiressMakesHerDebut# The show’s popularity surged. But the real bombshell was yet to come. Liam cleared his throat, a smug look on his face. “This Sunday is our engagement party,” he announced. “I’m having the entire event live-streamed, and you’re all invited to watch. “Oh, and by the way,” he added casually, “my uncle will be there.” A collective gasp went through the crew. The live chat went into meltdown. 【His uncle? Does he mean THE Lockwood? The one who actually runs everything?!】 【Holy shit! That guy is the real deal. I heard that even though he’s the uncle, he’s only a couple of years older than Liam…】 【Two years older and he’s already in charge of that entire empire? That’s insane!】 Tinsley practically vibrated with excitement. “Scarlett, can I come, too?!” “Of course,” Scarlett said magnanimously. “YES!” Tinsley cheered. I frowned and whispered to Arthur, “Are you going to that?” He shook his head. “First I’m hearing of it.” I just stared at him. After the excitement died down, the game continued. The spinner landed on Jason, the quiet actor paired with Tinsley. Since Liam had picked truth, Jason had to take a dare: pinch his nose and spin in a circle ten times. He did it quickly. On the third spin, the pointer landed on me. I, too, had to choose truth. This time, Scarlett asked the question. “Audrey,” she said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. “Is the man sitting next to you really your husband?” I laughed. “How many times do I have to say it? Are you having trouble processing?” 【God, Audrey is so infuriating. It’s a game, and she’s still lying! What’s the point?】 【If you can’t play, don’t play. She picked truth and still tells a lie. Is it that hard to admit you hired an actor?】 The producers announced the fourth round, but Scarlett held up a hand. “This is boring. I’m done.” Tinsley quickly chimed in. “Me too. What’s the point of playing a game if someone’s just going to cheat?” The director shot me a death glare. Just then, we arrived at the village. He ordered everyone out of the cars. 7 Once we were in the village, the director announced the first task. We had to help the local farmers harvest corn. The team that harvested the most within the time limit would get first choice of the houses provided for our stay. There were three levels: excellent, good, and poor. The moment the timer started, Arthur and I got to work. He tried to tell me to rest while he handled it, but I shook my head. This was a two-person challenge; I wasn’t going to let him do it alone. 【LOL, Audrey looks like a natural doing farm work. You can tell she didn’t grow up with money.】 【Right? And she’s so damn competitive. It’s just a game. Why does she have to try so hard? She should be more relaxed like Scarlett and Liam.】 At that moment, Scarlett and Liam were lounging in patio chairs, sipping iced tea under the shade of a portable fan. 【Did Scarlett just give up on getting the good house?】 【They’re royalty. They’re obviously not going to do manual labor.】 【LOL, look at them just staring at the cornfield, they look so lost. It’s adorable!】 【They’re hilarious. Such a breath of fresh air.】 Time was up. Scarlett and Liam hadn’t picked a single ear of corn. Tinsley and Jason had been working, but Tinsley had put her harvest in a separate pile. Jason had filled two large sacks. Tinsley had only managed half a sack. Without even asking him, she dragged both of Jason’s sacks over and presented them to Scarlett and Liam. Jason’s face fell, but he glanced at Liam, then at Scarlett, and said nothing. Scarlett beamed. “Oh, Tinsley, thank you! How sweet of you.” Then, she turned to me. “Audrey,” she said pointedly. “What about yours…?” “Ours? We got first place.” I smiled. Arthur and I had each filled two sacks. Without another word, I walked over and claimed the key to the best house. Scarlett’s smile vanished. Liam stood up, his voice dripping with condescension. “Interesting. Some people really don’t know how to take a hint.” “You’re right,” I shot back without missing a beat. “Some people are interesting. Do absolutely nothing and then expect a handout from others? Who died and made you king?” The live chat froze, then exploded. 【WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY?! IS AUDREY INSANE?】 【Did she just insult Liam Lockwood? TO HIS FACE?!】 【Who does she think she is?! He could end her with a single phone call!】 【Is this her new strategy? Playing the ‘blunt’ and ‘outspoken’ character? Trying to get famous by tearing down Scarlett and Liam?】 My words hit their mark. Liam shot up from his chair. His face was thunderous, the air around him turning cold. “What did you just say to me?” Arthur moved smoothly, stepping behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. He gently pulled me behind him, shielding me. He was a full head taller than Liam, and as he looked down at his nephew, his face was calm, but his dark, deep-set eyes were anything but. His voice was quiet, yet it carried a chilling weight.

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After I fell in love with the vampire Damien, I endured the agony of his turning me. It was because he said he couldn’t bear the thought of us being parted by my old age and death. Later, another woman would ask him, her face a mask of innocence as she lay in his arms, “Why won’t you turn me?” Damien, his voice thick with a pain I recognized, would kiss her cheek and say, “Because I could never stand to see you hurt.” So that was it. To truly love someone meant you couldn’t bear to cause them pain. My heart finally broke for good. I didn’t belong in this world anyway. It was time to go home. 1 When I got back to the old manor, I was clutching a bag of blood plasma. It was the last of the food I’d sourced for Damien. As a newly turned vampire, I still couldn’t control my cravings for human blood. My monthly supply runs were a grim exercise in back-alley deals and shadowed exchanges. This last bag had cost me a silver bullet from a hunter’s rifle, a wound I’d been lucky to escape from. I’d been gone a month, and Damien hadn’t contacted me once. A cold knot of fear tightened in my gut—what if something had happened to him? But as I stepped into the courtyard, the sweet, metallic scent of fresh human blood hit me, chasing my worries away with a fresh wave of dread. Familiar voices drifted from inside, growing clearer. A woman’s sugary laugh. “I want to be a vampire, too.” Damien’s low chuckle followed. “You’re perfect as you are. Why would you want this cursed existence?” The woman, nestled in his arms, asked with a guileless tilt of her head, “Is my blood really that sweet?” His reply was a portrait of tortured restraint, the voice of a man adoring something too fragile to touch. “Intoxicating.” The moment she turned her head, the cold in my chest froze solid. It was Lily. The girl I had come to call my sister. Seeing me, Lily sprang from Damien’s lap, grabbing my arm with a disarming warmth. The wound on her wrist, beaded with blood, was held out to me like a peace offering. “Sophie! You’re finally back!” The scent of her blood was overwhelming. I tried to pull away, to put some distance between us, but in a blur of motion, Damien had me pinned to the floor. His eyes were filled with a profound disappointment. “You’d even drink from your own sister? Have you lost your mind?” The pressure of his hold drove the silver bullet in my chest deeper, a searing path from muscle toward my vital organs. The pain stole my breath, but he mistook my silence for theatrics. “You’re a vampire,” he scoffed. “A little scratch like that is nothing.” Had he already forgotten? I used to be human, too. 2 The truth is, I’m not from this world at all. I was sent here by the Agency on a mission: to investigate the existence of vampires. Ten years ago, I met Damien—a vampire a thousand years old. Despite his terrifying nature, he had learned to control his thirst, subsisting on animal blood and living, for all intents and purposes, like a man. He gave me everything, showered me with affection, and told me I was the first person he had ever truly loved. And I fell in love with him. Our years together were bright and fleeting. Time left no mark on him, but it showed me no such mercy. One night, after too much wine, he pressed his lips to my neck and made me a promise. “Let me turn you. We can be together forever, Sophie. For eternity. What do you say?” Drowning in a sea of love, I abandoned my mission. I refused the Agency’s calls to return to my own time. All I wanted was to be with him, forever. But no one told me how much it would hurt. The constant ache of sunlight on my skin. The inability to taste food. The gnawing, primal addiction to blood that I had to fight every single second. In the beginning, Damien was patient. He stayed by my side, guiding me. “Easy, now,” he would soothe. “In time, you’ll get used to it.” But his patience wore thin. Soon, his words began to cut. “I got through it. Why is it so hard for you?” “You’re not human anymore. Stop being so dramatic.” Then, I found a girl on the street—a homeless, dying orphan. I took her in, saved her life, and brought her to live with us in the manor, calling her my sister. Lily. Her arrival was the fracture that broke everything. She fell in love with Damien. “Sophie,” she’d pleaded with me, tears in her eyes. “Being with Damien is the only thing that makes me want to live. You’re a vampire, you have forever. Just lend him to me for ten years. Only ten years, I promise.” The absurdity of it was laughable. But Damien agreed. “Ten years is a blink of an eye for someone with an eternity, Sophie. But for Lily, it could be the very thing that saves her life. You brought her here. She’s your responsibility.” The way he looked at her then, so protective and tender, was the same way he had looked at me a decade ago. 3 I couldn’t be bothered with either of them. I don’t know how many days I lay there after being shot, but I awoke to the searing pain of sunlight on my skin. The manor was empty, save for me. Sunlight poured through every window, bathing the rooms in a brilliant, merciless light. A house I once loved for its sun-drenched corners had become my personal hell. I couldn’t reach Damien. Left with no choice, I called Alex. I asked him to come help me get the bullet out. Alex was the first friend I made when I arrived in this world, a former colleague from the Institute where we researched paranormal phenomena. Ten minutes later, he was there, a first-aid kit in hand, dressed in a tactical jacket zipped all the way to his chin. Even he was wary of me now. “God, this is deep,” he murmured, examining the wound. “To get it out, I’ll have to cut away some of the surrounding tissue.” I stared at the ceiling, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Vampires are supposed to be fearless, but we’re terrified of a little piece of silver. Some immortality.” Alex glanced at me, his expression unreadable, and began sterilizing his instruments. I couldn’t go to a hospital anymore; he was my only option. “Brace yourself,” he said softly. “If the pain is too much… bite my arm.” He’d forgotten. I was a vampire. I could never bite a human. 4 “Damien…” I followed the sound of Lily’s voice and saw them leap through the open window. Damien was holding her. His face was a thundercloud. “You’re hurt, and instead of waiting for me, you call him?” Even as he accused me, his hand remained possessively on Lily’s waist. Alex didn’t flinch. “What’s more important, Damien? Your ego, or her life?” The two of them had met a few times, and each encounter ended in hostility. Damien was the ultimate research subject for Alex, an ancient, powerful creature he could never hope to capture. They were natural enemies. Though Alex and I were only ever friends, I had drastically reduced our contact for Damien’s sake. This was the first time I’d seen him since my transformation. I tried to explain. “Damien, you were both gone. I was shot. I had to call Alex for help. Please, just let him be.” Alex, his back to Damien, made a precise incision. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. “Almost there.” “Almost where?” Damien sneered. “Almost in bed together? Is that it?” Without another word, he flung Alex against the wall. The sharp crack of bone was sickeningly loud. “No!” I screamed, but it was too late. Alex’s arm was broken. I scrambled off the bed to help him, the wound on my chest slowly knitting itself closed. Damien laughed, a cold, ugly sound. “If you’re going to cheat, at least come up with a better excuse. A few more minutes and that wound of yours will have healed completely.” As he spoke, the silver bullet, freed for a moment, sank back into my flesh. He was so close. I was so close to being saved. The desire to give up, an old feeling I’d suppressed countless times since becoming a vampire, surged back with the force of a tidal wave. Maybe this was fate. From behind Damien, Lily gave me a smug, unwavering smile. She wasn’t having a relapse. She wasn’t sick at all. Damien started to lead her away to get her “medicine,” but I called out to him. My voice was a raw whisper. “Please, fix Alex’s arm. He can’t lose the use of his hand.” He didn’t even turn around, leaving me with nothing but his cold, indifferent back. The grief was the final straw. All I felt was regret. “I’m not coming back,” I said, my voice gaining a sliver of strength. “We’re done.” He chose to ignore me. “You need to fix that temper of yours. I don’t want to spend the next thousand years coddling you.” Coddling? He didn’t deserve to even speak to me. Silently, in the ruins of my heart, I called out to the Agency’s system. For ten years, they had offered to bring me home, and for ten years, I had refused. It was clear now. I never should have fallen in love with a cold, lonely monster. I was wrong. I regret it. Take me home.

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