When I started my business, my girlfriend Audrey deliberately leaked trade secrets to my competitor, leaving me bankrupt. The next moment, Audrey became Maurice’s woman—my rival’s woman. Drowning in debt, I stood on a rooftop preparing to end it all when Polka, who had secretly loved me for years, found me and handed over all her family’s savings. “Benjamin, in my eyes, you’ll always be the most outstanding person.” Seven years later, my company made a comeback, and I was about to complete the acquisition of Maurice’s company. But the night before the signing, my warehouse caught fire unexpectedly, reducing all the inventory to ashes. In my hospital room, I overheard a conversation between Polka and my ex-girlfriend Audrey outside the door. “You’re ruthless. You dared to set fire to the warehouse. Weren’t you afraid he’d burn to death inside?” “If he died, he died. I’ve always loved Maurice. If I hadn’t lost that draw to you back then, I wouldn’t have had to stomach that face for seven years.” I looked at my burned hands. What I thought was sharing hardship together turned out to be nothing but wishful thinking on my part. Since you all care so much about Maurice, don’t blame me for what comes next.

I closed my eyes, my heart seized by an invisible hand. Arson. A draw. Those seven years of mutual devotion were nothing but her reluctant choice after losing a bet. “If I hadn’t married him and constantly monitored his movements, you think Maurice could have had it so smooth? I’ve been clearing obstacles for him!” A metallic sweetness surged in my throat. I laughed silently, my burned hands wrapped in gauze, without even the strength to clench a fist. Polka hadn’t noticed I was awake and continued pouring out her disgust and suffering from all these years. “This fire—don’t you understand? I couldn’t let him acquire SUN. That’s Maurice’s everything!” After she finished speaking, there was a long silence from Audrey’s side, only the sound of breathing. “Alright, you should go. And remember, even though I married Benjamin, I’ll never give up Maurice!” After Audrey left, Polka pushed open the door, her face wearing perfectly calculated concern. “Benjamin? Are you awake? How do you feel?” I looked away, avoiding her hand reaching to check my forehead, my voice hoarse. “Strange. Every time Maurice and I reach the final step, something always goes wrong.” “Maybe… it’s just fate. In business, who can say for certain?” Polka’s hand paused mid-air before withdrawing. I pulled my lips into a humorless arc, my gaze turning to the window. “Maybe Maurice has too many devoted followers who can’t stand to see him lose? The fire department is already investigating the warehouse fire.” Polka chose her words carefully, trying to soothe my emotions. I closed my eyes, my heart ice-cold. “Polka, what about you? Don’t you think it’s quite a coincidence?” “I…” Polka choked, her lips moving several times before finally giving up on defending herself, her brow furrowing tightly. “Benjamin, what are you trying to say? Are you suspecting me? I’m your wife!” “I’m just asking casually. Why are you getting so worked up?”

I looked at her calmly, watching how she instantly bristled with hostility. Polka’s expression turned ugly. After a long moment, she forced out a cold snort through clenched teeth. “If you’re incompetent, don’t go around being paranoid!” She grew more agitated as she spoke, her face contorting. That face I’d known for seven years now looked frighteningly unfamiliar. I finally became certain—Polka had never loved me. These seven years were a complete and utter fraud. I remained silent, but Polka was clearly dissatisfied with my silence. She stood up, walked to the bedside, and looked down at me. “Benjamin, I need you to promise me that from now on, you’ll behave yourself and stop chasing unrealistic dreams! As for our marriage, some things are better left unsaid. It’s not good for anyone.” “I should stop dreaming? Why should I?! Once I sign that contract, SUN will be mine! As for our marriage… Polka, do you really think there’s anything left between us?” I clenched my fist, the burned skin sending searing pain through me. “I’m telling you! Destroying Maurice is my entire purpose! If not this time, then next time. If not this seven years, then the next seven years!” “You—” Polka froze, then crossed her arms and let out a low, cold laugh. “Very well. I was going to keep up the act a bit longer. Benjamin, since you still want to win, you never will.” My heart tightened. Her laugh sent chills down my spine. Only then did I notice that this hospital room’s facilities far exceeded those of ordinary hospitals. There were even unidentified oil paintings hanging on the walls. This was an expensive private sanatorium. “What are you planning?!” Before I could finish speaking, Polka knocked on the door three times. A man in a white coat with a sinister demeanor walked in. “Miss Polka, what are your orders?” She took a document the man handed her, glanced at it twice, her gaze falling on my gauze-wrapped hands, her tone calm. “Benjamin, a renowned entrepreneur, suffered nerve damage from the fire, resulting in permanent tremors in both hands. He can no longer perform precision work. The facility has done all it can. Understood?” My blood froze instantly. I stared at her in disbelief. “This… this might present procedural risks.” The man called “Dr. Polo” hesitated, but after Polka mentioned “original shares in Maurice’s biotech company,” the doubt in his eyes vanished. I understood their transaction. A chill rose from the soles of my feet. I used all my strength to grab the glass water pitcher from the table and hurl it toward the window. The next second, Polka had already lunged at me, pinning down my arm. After seven years together, she understood the intent behind my every move. So she also knew exactly how to cripple me from the root. “Benjamin, stop struggling. You can’t escape.” Polka looked at me, a moment of hesitation flashing in her eyes. I roared: “You lunatic! I’m your husband!” I struggled violently, but my weakened post-fire body had no strength. The wounds tore open again in my struggle. Several nurses rushed in, expertly producing restraint straps. “Let me go! This is a crime!” My curses and struggles only resulted in tighter restraints, until cold leather straps bound my wrists and ankles. I gave up resisting, my voice hoarse. “Polka! I was wrong! I surrender! I’ll never appear before you again, okay? Let me go! I promise I’ll disappear completely!” Polka crossed her arms, watching my breakdown for a long time before shaking her head. “Benjamin, I don’t believe you. I know you too well. If you can persist in something for seven years, you won’t let it go now.” At her signal, the man approached me with a syringe. Before consciousness was pulled away, I abandoned all questioning and pleading, staring at her intently. “Polka, I’ve always given you… everything.” In my daze, the resolve on Polka’s face showed a crack, but it quickly returned to cold indifference. “Sorry, Benjamin. This is the last time.”

Before darkness swallowed me, my final thought was that I would never love her again. Seven years of marriage. When I was at my lowest, she had extended her hand to me. But that hand, from the very beginning, was meant to push me into a deeper abyss. When I woke again, the uncontrollable subtle tremor in my right hand became my only sensation. Despair, like icy seawater, instantly submerged me. Polka had actually done it. She had once been my most capable assistant, but now she’d destroyed my hands. Tears fell silently, yet the hatred in my heart burned hot. The aftereffects of the neurotoxin began several hours later—an aching numbness and stabbing pain that seemed to drill out from within my bones, more tormenting than the burns. I was drenched in sweat from the pain, biting my lip hard, staring blankly at the ceiling. At one point, I even considered ending it all. “Well, well, you’re awake?” A familiar voice shattered the deathly silence of the hospital room. I slowly turned my head. Maurice walked in, looking me up and down before shaking his head, his face wearing fake sympathy while his eyes held nothing but a victor’s arrogance. “Benjamin, look at yourself now.” “Seven years, and you couldn’t even keep one woman. Now you’re just a cripple.” “In love, you lost to me. In business, same thing! For the rest of your life, you’ll never beat me.” “What did you say?” I spoke hoarsely. It took a while for my numb brain to process his words. The next moment, fury destroyed my reason. “Get out! Get out! Don’t let me see you again! You bastards! I won’t let you get away with this! Get out! All of you!” My hysteria clearly pleased Maurice. He even laughed out loud. “See, Benjamin? Your wife would do anything for me. Though in your current state, you probably can’t comprehend my happiness anymore.” “Get out!” I used my left hand to pull out the IV needle from the back of my hand, grabbing everything I could reach from the bedside table and hurling it at him. Water cups, fruit plates, books, one after another. But I’d overestimated my broken body. After just a few throws, I’d exhausted all my strength and collapsed on the bed, the excruciating pain in my right hand rendering me speechless. Maurice continued his taunts, but as he spoke, the fury in my heart gradually extinguished, leaving only dead numbness. Yes, I’d already lost completely. What chance did I have to turn things around? “Why aren’t you talking?! Benjamin! Say something! Weren’t you always so arrogant? Didn’t they call you a business genius? Why so quiet now?!” Maurice froze. My sudden calm denied him the sense of superiority he’d expected. Frustrated, he tried to provoke me again. “Why aren’t you talking, you trembling cripple?! Weren’t you just throwing things at me? Now you’re playing dead?” I weakly threw a pillow at him with my left hand, barely managing to force out “Get out!” That feather-light pillow landed at his feet, but Maurice acted as if he’d found the perfect excuse. He suddenly stepped back exaggeratedly, as if struck by tremendous force, looking at me in shock. “Benjamin?! How could you do this! I just came to check on you out of kindness!” Just then, the sound of high heels came from outside. Hearing his shout, the footsteps immediately quickened. Audrey pushed open the door. Seeing the mess on the floor, she immediately glared at me viciously. Polka, who entered a step behind, also froze. “Maurice?! He dared to lay hands on you?!” Watching the two of them fuss over Maurice, I twisted my lips into a hoarse, miserable laugh. “Benjamin! Have you lost your mind?! Get on your knees and apologize to Maurice right now!” Infuriated by my laughter, Polka rushed forward, grabbed my shoulder, and dragged me from the bed, disregarding my injuries. “Kneel down and apologize to Maurice right now!” Audrey helped Maurice up at this point. She walked over and stepped on my still-bleeding left hand, saying simply: “Kneel!” I fell onto the cold floor, the pain in my hand and the nerve pain in my right hand intertwining, the agony turning my vision black. Seeing my silence, Audrey bent down, grabbed my hair, and forced me to look up at them. “Can’t you understand human speech?! Kneel before my man right now!” They humiliated me in the cruelest way possible, until I was covered in cold sweat, lying weakly on the floor, my breathing becoming faint. Only then did this farce end. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but for a brief moment, I seemed to see reluctance and wavering in Polka’s eyes. But it no longer mattered. At this point, whatever I’d done in the past, I’d received my punishment. Right now, I just wanted to leave them, to leave this hell! When I woke again, the hospital room had been cleaned up and my hands had been re-treated. Sunlight through the window warmed my face, but I only felt a sense of disorientation, as if everything before had been nothing but an absurd dream. I thought this was my chance to escape, but Polka soon returned. She carried a bag containing several brand-new devices. “Awake? Try these.”

She placed a set of weighted metal utensils and a grip-assist writing tool on the bedside table. Her expression had softened considerably, her tone carrying a hint of regret. “Look at you. Why suffer like this just to be stubborn?” As she spoke, she picked up the grip tool, trying to fit it on my hand. “If you just behave, I’ll take good care of you from now on.” I jerked my hand back, my stomach churning. Just seeing her filled me with physical disgust. “Get that away!” Polka’s patience seemed exhausted by my rejection. She angrily slammed the items on the table. “Benjamin, I’m kindly finding rehabilitation tools for you. Can you stop being so ungrateful?!” I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm down. When I spoke again, my voice was emotionless. “Polka, let’s make a deal. I’m willing to sign a lifetime non-compete agreement and transfer all remaining assets of my company to you or Maurice. I have only one requirement. Let me go.” I was negotiating my freedom as if it were my final business transaction. Polka seemed stunned by this, apparently not expecting me to propose such a “deal.” After a long moment, she shook her head. “Benjamin, this isn’t just to reassure him. It’s because you owe Maurice.” “I owe him? What do I owe him?!” I asked in confusion. The corner of Polka’s mouth curled into mockery. She said I must have forgotten such important matters. She told me that years ago, my first bucket of gold, the business model that changed my fate, was a proposal Maurice had stayed up countless nights creating. It was I who used improper means to steal it, which led to my later meteoric rise. “So your current state is just things returning to their rightful owner! Stop acting innocent. You almost fooled me again!” I paused slightly, then recalled those events, a trace of desolate smile appearing on my face. I finally understood where their bone-deep hatred came from. In their eyes, I’d been a thief from the very beginning. That business opportunity back then was indeed public information. I was just faster and more daring than him. But explaining now was meaningless. For a crippled man, all merit and fault lost the value of defense. Seeing I no longer argued, Polka let out a cold laugh. “So Benjamin, you have no right to complain! All of this is your karma!” I fell completely silent. Polka also lost interest in conversing with me and turned to leave the room. I stared blankly at her retreating figure. After a long time, I buried my face in my palms without making a sound. My life afterward became daily “rehabilitation” training. Different therapists came every day to guide me on using those assistive tools. To maintain her image as a “devoted wife,” Polka provided me with the very best of everything. I also appeared numb and compliant, just speaking less and less. Over half a month later, they finally relaxed their guard over me. I bribed a young worker from the laundry room with a stock tip guaranteed to rise. At four in the morning, I endured the aching pain in both hands and hid in a huge linen cart, leaving that prison in the bumpy ride. Finally, at the bus stop across the street, I looked back at the lit building, my eyes calm as still water. Since you all want me to disappear, I’ll grant your wish. At that moment, Maurice was at a grand celebration banquet, raising his glass high, announcing to all the guests that he’d completely defeated me. Polka stood beside him, her smile radiant. “For you, I’d do anything.” She gazed at Maurice’s profile, her eyes full of infatuation. “I know. Now we can finally be together.” Maurice responded gently, about to clink glasses with her when a shrill phone ringtone broke the intimate atmosphere. Polka impatiently pulled out her phone. Seeing the caller ID, her brow immediately furrowed. The sanatorium? What could it be? Benjamin? Thinking of him, Polka still pressed the answer button: “Hello?” “Miss Polka, this is terrible! Mr. Benjamin is gone!”

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I was kidnapped at five years old. For the next eleven years, I was beaten and abused in the trafficker’s house. On the day I was rescued at sixteen, the police pushed the trafficker in front of me. “Don’t be afraid, child. He can never hurt you again!” I didn’t look at the trafficker. I slowly turned my head, staring at the kind-looking young auxiliary officer standing beside him. “Hello again… brother.” The officer froze. “Little girl, I think you’ve got the wrong person?” “That day, you were standing right next to the trafficker. You said you’d take me to find my mom.” **01** I was kidnapped at five years old. In that moldy, dark room, I was beaten and abused for eleven long years. At sixteen, I was rescued. The fluorescent lights were harsh and white, making every face in the police station look blurred. A middle-aged officer crouched in front of me, his voice gentle. “Don’t be afraid, child.” He pointed to the man curled up in the corner—the man who had raised me for eleven years and beaten me for eleven years, the human trafficker. “Identify him. He can never hurt you again!” My gaze drifted past the trafficker’s sallow face without stopping. I slowly turned my head. My eyes landed on a young officer. He wore a crisp uniform and had handsome features. He was carefully bringing me a cup of hot milk. His face radiated the kind of warmth that could melt ice and snow. “Hello again… brother,” I said, my voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping against itself. The young officer froze for a moment, then gave me a reassuring smile. “Little girl, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else. My name is Ethan Harper. We’re meeting for the first time today.” The entire police station fell deathly silent. The air solidified. Even the distant sound of the printer disappeared. I stared into his eyes, speaking each word deliberately. “I haven’t mistaken you.” “Eleven years ago, at the children’s park on the west side of town, it was you.” “You lifted me down from the slide. The trafficker was standing right next to you.” “You even patted my head and said, ‘Come with me, I’ll take you to find your mom.’” The smile on Ethan’s face froze. The milk cup in his hand crashed to the polished tile floor with a clang. The milky white liquid splashed out like a shattered flower. He suddenly lunged forward and grabbed my wrist, his grip frighteningly strong. “What are you talking about—” He didn’t finish his sentence. His next movement made every officer outside the interrogation room point their guns directly at him. His other hand—the one not gripping me—shot up like lightning. He wasn’t trying to hit me or push me away. He was trying to cover my mouth. It was a pure, instinctive movement to silence me. Just like the trafficker had done countless times over the past eleven years. The cold sound of metal echoed through the room. “Don’t move!” “Ethan! Put your hands up!” An elderly but authoritative voice rang out. It was their captain, Captain Harris. Ethan’s hand froze in midair, just inches from my lips. His pupils constricted violently. Cold sweat slid down his temple, dripping onto the insignia on his police uniform. He looked at me, his eyes no longer kind but filled with the shock and malice of prey that had bitten back. At that tense moment, the interrogation room door was violently pushed open. A middle-aged couple in expensive clothes rushed in, followed by several officers trying to stop them. The woman saw me, tears instantly flooding her eyes as she rushed over to embrace me. “Anna! My Anna! Mom has finally found you!” The man’s eyes were also red. He excitedly grabbed Captain Harris’s hand, speaking incoherently. “Thank you, thank you all! Especially Officer Harper. We heard about it—he was the first one to find the lead and save our daughter!” I was held tightly by Mom. I could smell her expensive perfume. But my gaze pierced through her shoulder, still locked firmly on Ethan. My real parents had arrived. And they were thanking the demon who had personally delivered me to hell eleven years ago. Ethan slowly lowered his hand. Under everyone’s gaze, he raised both hands slowly above his head. The shock on his face had faded, replaced by a deep sense of grievance and sorrow. He looked at my parents, his voice trembling. “Sir, ma’am, I didn’t…” “I don’t know why this child would say such things.” “I really… I was just trying to save her.” My parents froze, looking at him, then at me. Mom released me, cupping my face, her brow furrowed. “Anna, did you… remember wrong?” “Officer Harper is your savior.” I looked at her worried and confused face and shook my head. Memories can blur and get confused. But some things are carved into your bones. Like how eleven years ago that afternoon, when he handed me that candy, his right hand had a shallow, crescent-shaped scar at the base of his thumb. **02** I was taken to a separate rest room. Mom stayed with me. Dad, Captain Harris, and the station leadership were outside dealing with the chaos. The door was closed, but I could hear the muffled sounds of argument outside. Mom kept wiping my face and making me drink water. Her hands were warm, but her eyes were unfamiliar. “Anna, don’t be afraid. It’s all over now.” “You’ll be home soon. Mom and Dad will never let you suffer again.” She chattered on about our future home, my room, the dresses she’d bought for me. I didn’t say a word. After a long time, the door opened. Dad and Captain Harris walked in together. Dad’s expression was grim, his brow furrowed into a deep line. Captain Harris looked serious. He pulled up a chair and sat across from me. “Child, can we talk again?” I nodded. “You said that eleven years ago, at the children’s park, Ethan Harper took you away?” “Yes.” “Are you certain?” “I’m certain.” Captain Harris was silent for a moment, then pulled out a photo from his pocket. It was Ethan’s ID photo—sunny, upright. “He’s twenty-seven years old now. Eleven years ago, he was sixteen, still a high school student.” “According to records, he was an excellent student who even won the city’s Outstanding Student award. Why would he do something like this?” I looked at that photo and shook my head. “I don’t know why he would.” “I only know it was him.” Dad finally couldn’t hold back anymore, his voice filled with suppressed fury. “Anna! How can you be so sure!” “Officer Harper found you to save you! He’s our family’s great benefactor! How can you bite the hand that feeds you?” “Did you stay with that trafficker so long that your mind… that something went wrong?” His words were like a needle, piercing my heart. It didn’t hurt. It was just very cold. I looked at him, this biological father of mine. His eyes held no trust, only suspicion and the irritation of someone eager to distance himself from trouble. “Nothing’s wrong with me,” I said. Captain Harris raised his hand, signaling Dad to stop talking. He continued, “Besides what you’ve told us, is there any other evidence? Or more specific details?” “Yes.” I closed my eyes. That afternoon eleven years ago replayed in my mind like a movie. “He was wearing a blue short-sleeved shirt with a black and white Mickey Mouse print on the chest.” “He gave me a candy. It was a White Rabbit candy.” “After he handed me over to that man, the man gave him a roll of money wrapped in newspaper.” “He also said something.” Captain Harris’s eyes immediately sharpened. “What did he say?” “He said, ‘My sister is sick and I need money urgently. Don’t contact me again.’” After I finished speaking, the rest room fell into dead silence. Dad’s expression changed from anger to shock. Captain Harris stared at me for a full half minute, then stood up. “Rest here. We’ll verify this.” He and Dad walked out together. The moment the door closed, I heard Dad’s urgent voice. “Captain Harris, this… you can’t believe what this child says! She must be…” The voice grew more distant. Mom sighed and sat back down beside me. “Anna, Mom knows you’ve been wronged.” “But Officer Harper… he doesn’t seem like a bad person. And all these years he’s been excellent, with a spotless record.” “Could it be that you want to catch the bad guy so badly that you’re projecting your resentment onto him?” I didn’t answer. I just felt very tired. More tired than being beaten and working every day at the trafficker’s house. That night, my parents took me back to the “home” they had prepared for me. A huge, empty mansion. My room was pink, with a soft large bed and piles of beautiful dresses. Like a perfect princess room. But lying in that bed, I couldn’t sleep all night. The next day at noon, the doorbell rang. Mom excitedly ran to answer it. Ethan stood at the door carrying bags of nutritional supplements and fruit. He had changed out of his uniform and wore casual clothes, looking more like the boy next door. His face showed some exhaustion, but his smile remained warm. “Sir, ma’am, I came to see Anna.” My parents warmly welcomed him in, serving tea and fruit, their mouths full of gratitude and apologies. “Officer Harper, we’re so sorry. Our child doesn’t understand…” “Sir, please don’t say that.” Ethan interrupted Dad. “Anna has suffered so much. It’s completely normal for her to have some stress reactions. I don’t blame her at all.” The more magnanimous he appeared, the more guilty my parents felt. They called me out of my room. In the living room, Ethan sat on the sofa with my parents on either side of him. That picture looked like a family. I was the outsider. Ethan saw me and stood up, giving me a warm smile. “Anna, feeling better?” I didn’t respond. Mom pushed me, lowering her voice. “Anna, call him Ethan. Apologize to him.” I stood without moving. The atmosphere in the living room instantly became awkward. Ethan waved his hand at Mom. “Ma’am, it’s fine. Don’t force the child.” He turned to look at me, his gaze “sincere” enough to be chilling. “Anna, I know you hate the trafficker. But you’ve identified the wrong person. The real bad guy will get away with it.” “Think about it carefully again, okay?” I watched his performance and suddenly found it laughable. Dad’s expression had already darkened. “Anna Williams! I’m ordering you—right now, immediately—apologize to Officer Harper!” Anna Williams. That was my name. A name I’d heard for eleven years but found utterly foreign. Just then, Ethan suddenly walked up to me. He bent down, leaned close to my ear, and said something in a voice only the two of us could hear. “Keep making trouble and you’ll never see your real ‘mom’ again.” My body instantly went rigid. The “mom” he mentioned wasn’t referring to the woman in front of me. He meant the woman who had been trafficked to the same house, the only one who had shown me warmth, who they had beaten to death—”Crazy Mom.” This was our darkest secret. And he knew about it. **03** My blood nearly froze in that moment. “Crazy Mom” was a woman the trafficker had bought from elsewhere. Because she kept trying to escape, they beat her until she lost her mind. She was my only comfort in childhood. She would secretly save food for me and would throw herself over me when I was being beaten. Three years ago, she was beaten to death for taking a beating meant for me. No one should know about this except me, the trafficker, and a few of the trafficker’s accomplices who were present at the time. Ethan… How could he know? I jerked my head up, staring at him intently. His face still wore that harmless, warm smile, but deep in his eyes was an icy mockery that saw through everything. He silently mouthed two words to me. “Shut up.” My parents didn’t notice this brief, silent confrontation. They only saw my face turn deathly pale, my body swaying unsteadily. “Anna, what’s wrong?” Mom supported me, looking worried. Ethan straightened up, showing just the right amount of concern. “Is Anna not feeling well? Maybe I should leave so I don’t upset her.” “Officer Harper, please don’t say that!” Dad panicked. He grabbed me and pulled me in front of Ethan. “Apologize! I’m telling you to apologize!” I looked at my father’s angry, unfamiliar face, then at Ethan’s hypocritical mask. A huge wave of desolation and nausea surged through me. I didn’t apologize. I just looked at Ethan, clearly and deliberately speaking each word. “You weren’t alone.” “Eleven years ago, there was someone else with you.” Dad was so angry he raised his hand. “How dare you keep spouting nonsense!” The slap never landed. Ethan reached out and stopped Dad. “Sir, don’t.” He sighed, like a saint who had endured endless grievances yet remained infinitely tolerant. “The child’s emotions are unstable. Let her take her time.” “I believe she’ll eventually remember the truth.” When he said the word “truth,” he emphasized it, his gaze scraping across my face like a knife. He stayed for half an hour before leaving. As soon as he left, Dad’s rage erupted completely. He pointed at my nose and cursed me for being ungrateful, for biting the hand that fed me, for being a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Mom cried and tried to mediate, saying I had just come home and they couldn’t pressure me like this. The entire mansion was filled with arguments, crying, and cursing. I felt like I’d fallen into a more luxurious but colder cage. That night, I locked myself in my room. I took out paper and pen and began to write. I wrote down every detail I could remember about eleven years ago. Ethan’s appearance and his knowledge of “Crazy Mom” confirmed something for me. What happened back then was far more complex than I’d imagined. He wasn’t just a teenager who impulsively committed a crime for money. There were others behind him. Or rather, there was a network. The next day, I found an excuse to go out, shaking off the nanny who tried to follow me. I went to the police station. Captain Harris wasn’t there. I waited at the entrance. He returned in the evening, looking exhausted. Seeing me, he seemed a bit surprised. “Why are you here?” “I came to find you.” We went to a small noodle shop nearby. I handed him what I’d written all night. “This is everything I can remember.” Captain Harris took it and read each page very carefully. The noodle shop was noisy and steaming hot, but I felt cold all over. This was my only bargaining chip. If he didn’t believe me either… Captain Harris finished reading the last page and remained silent for a long time. He looked up at me. “What you said about Ethan Harper’s appearance when he was sixteen—we checked. His high school photos do match your description.” My heart lifted. “But,” his tone shifted, “he has an alibi.” “Eleven years ago, the day you were kidnapped was a Saturday. His school was holding an anniversary celebration that day. He was the host. Hundreds of teachers and students can vouch for him.” My brain buzzed. An alibi? How was that possible? I remembered so clearly! “That’s impossible!” I cried out. “I couldn’t have remembered wrong!” “Child, don’t get worked up.” Captain Harris’s voice was steady. “Memory can deceive you. Especially after experiencing such great trauma, you might mix up different people and events.” “I didn’t mix them up!” I gripped the edge of the table. Captain Harris sighed. “We’ve investigated Ethan Harper’s family background and social connections. Everything’s clean. His father is a university professor, his mother is a doctor. He’s been the model child since childhood. There’s no reason for him to do something like this.” “All the evidence is in his favor.” “And what works against you is that everyone thinks you’ve lost your mind.” His words were cruel but honest. I looked at him and suddenly asked a question. “What about you?” “Captain Harris, do you think I’ve lost my mind too?” Captain Harris looked into my eyes but didn’t answer immediately. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out, but didn’t light it. He just held it, slowly rotating it in his fingers. After a long while, he finally spoke. “Your details are too specific.” “So specific… they don’t seem made up.” “Especially what you mentioned about the crescent-shaped scar at the base of his right thumb.” My heart leaped. “We managed to obtain his medical exam report from this year.” Captain Harris looked at me, his gaze profound. “There is indeed a scar at the base of his right thumb.” “Very faint. You wouldn’t notice it without looking carefully.” “The shape is exactly as you described.” A huge surge of wild joy and bitterness instantly overwhelmed me. I bit my lip hard to keep myself from crying. Finally. Finally, someone was willing to believe me, even just a little. “So,” I asked in a trembling voice, “you’ll continue investigating him, right?” Captain Harris put the cigarette back in the pack and shook his head. “No.” My heart instantly sank. “Officially, the investigation into him is closed. From now on, he’ll resume all his duties and his reputation will be restored.” He looked at my shocked and despairing expression, adding deliberately. “But unofficially, I’m forming a special task force.” “Just me and you.” “Without alerting anyone, we’re going to dig out the truth from eleven years ago.” His eyes were like a knife hidden in its sheath—calm and sharp. “Child, do you dare use yourself as bait?”

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“Ellie, I need you to call me ‘uncle’ today, and have Max call me ‘dad’.” At the parent-teacher conference, Dad said this with one hand on my shoulder and the other holding my classmate Max’s hand. “Why?” I asked. “Max doesn’t have a father.” He spoke quickly. “He’s in a difficult situation. Just help me out today—let him call me dad, and you call me uncle. Understand?” I didn’t say anything. I just watched his lips move. “It’s settled then.” Dad patted my shoulder. Max’s mom walked over, tissue in hand, her eyes red. “Ellie’s such a good girl, aren’t you? Help Max out.” Dad’s hand left my shoulder, his eyes full of urgency. Those three words were like a switch—suddenly my mind flooded with images. The first time was my seventh birthday. I waited with the strawberry cake Mom baked until midnight. Seven candles burned down to black stubs, wax dripping onto the top strawberry, as red as the blood from when I scraped my knee last time. When he came home, he smelled like hospital disinfectant. He said, “Max had a fever. Mrs. Rivera couldn’t handle it alone. You’re a good girl—we’ll celebrate your birthday another time.” I said okay and picked off that wax-covered strawberry and threw it away. It tasted sweet and bitter at the same time. The second time was right after he bought me a pink bicycle. I could barely ride two meters, wobbling all over, and before I could call him to watch, Mrs. Rivera’s call came through. He lifted me off the seat, put me on the curb steps, and pushed the bike to Max who came running over. “You’re older, so be nice to your little brother. He can’t ride yet—I’ll teach him first.” I squatted on the steps counting ants. By the 127th ant, he finally came back. The little bell I’d saved half a month’s allowance to buy was gone from the handlebars. He said, “Max liked it, so I gave it to him. I’ll buy you a new one next time.” The third time was the parent-child craft competition. We spent half a month gluing together a starry castle, and I placed every single sequin on the windows myself. He said he’d turn it in to the teacher for me. Then I saw the castle displayed in first place at the school exhibition hall with Max’s name on it. He crouched down and touched my head. “Max needs this to get his achievement award. You’re a good girl—let him have it. Next time Dad will make you an even bigger one.” Every time it was the same. He said I was a good girl, so I should let Max have what was mine. I looked up at him, then at Max hiding behind him, and nodded. My voice was just loud enough for the three of them to hear: “Okay, Uncle.” Dad visibly relaxed, smiling as he patted my head, then took Max’s hand. “Max, let’s go. Dad will take you inside.” Max jumped high, waving his Ultraman toy. “Dad, hurry! Let’s sit in the front row!” Max’s mom followed them. She glanced back at me with a look that seemed like gratitude, but not quite. Halfway through the conference, it was my turn to go onstage and read my excellent essay. I stood at the podium watching Dad in the first row peeling an orange for Max. I opened my mouth. The essay I’d memorized perfectly—”My Dad is a Superhero Who Lifts Me Above His Head to Watch Fireworks”—not a single word would come out. After standing there for half a minute, I said quietly, “I’m sorry. I forgot to bring my essay.” When I ran off the stage, my knee hit the corner of a table. The pain made me gasp. The parent-teacher conference ended quickly. We walked out of the kindergarten together. Max kept talking—about how the teacher praised him, how he got a gold star, how amazing his dad was. Dad kept smiling. At the intersection, Max’s house was to the left, ours to the right. When we got home, Mom came out of the kitchen wearing her apron. “How was the parent-teacher conference today?” Dad let go of my hand. “It went well. Mrs. Rivera is raising her kid alone—it’s not easy. I helped out today.” Mom looked at Dad for several seconds. After dinner, Dad went to make a phone call. He stood on the balcony, voice low, but I heard him say “it’s okay,” “it’s what I should do,” “raising a child alone isn’t easy.” Mom washed dishes. I helped wipe the table. “Mom,” I said quietly. “Dad wasn’t my dad today.” Mom’s hands stopped. “What?” Mom turned to look at me. “Today at kindergarten, Dad was Max’s dad.” I spoke slowly, each word clear, just like Dad had spoken this morning. “Dad made me call him uncle. He said Max could call him dad, and I had to call him uncle.” Mom’s throat moved, like she was swallowing something. Then she crouched down and hugged me. “Then from now on, Ellie will just call him uncle.”

From that day on, the word “uncle” was carved into my tongue. It came out automatically. The first time was the next evening when the phone rang at home. I ran to answer it. The moment I said “hello,” I heard Dad’s voice through the receiver. “Ellie, Dad bought you—” “Hello, Uncle.” I interrupted him, my voice flat, like reading words from a textbook. The other end went silent for a long time. “Ellie, what happened that day was wrong of Dad,” his voice dropped. “But Max really…” “Uncle, are you looking for Mom?” I asked again, my finger twisting the phone cord. “Mom’s hanging laundry.” This silence lasted even longer. “Yes, I’m looking for your mom,” he finally said. I put the receiver on the coffee table without hanging up and shouted toward the balcony: “Mom, Uncle’s on the phone.” I said “Uncle” extra clearly, enunciating each syllable like the kindergarten teacher taught us phonics. When Mom came over, she glanced at me, picked up the phone, said only two sentences, then hung up. “Your dad says he’ll take you to the aquarium this weekend.” Mom dried her hands and crouched down to look me in the eye. “It’s Uncle,” I corrected. Mom looked at me for a long time, then gently touched my face. “Right. Uncle.” The second time was that weekend when Mom took me to the supermarket to buy yogurt. I was on tiptoe reaching for the peach-flavored yogurt on the top shelf when I heard a familiar voice nearby: “Max, slow down. Don’t fall.” I turned around and saw Dad pushing a shopping cart. Max sat inside holding an Ultraman toy bigger than himself, a lollipop in his mouth. When Dad saw me, his eyes lit up. He let go of the cart handle and walked toward me, reaching out to hug me. “Ellie, you’re shopping too?” I took a step back and hid behind Mom, clutching her clothes and peeking out. My voice was just loud enough for the nearby aunts picking fruit to hear: “Hello, Uncle.” The aunts’ gazes immediately swept to Dad. They whispered to each other. I heard someone say quietly, “Isn’t that the Johnson boy? Why is his own daughter calling him uncle?” Dad’s face turned red instantly. His hand froze in midair, not knowing whether to advance or retreat. Max grabbed the cart railing and shouted at me: “Yeah! This is my dad! You’re right to call him uncle!” Mrs. Rivera quickly came over and pulled Dad away, smiling awkwardly at my mom. “It’s just me and Max. He’s helping us carry things.” Then she pushed the cart away quickly. I saw Dad look back at me several times, his expression terrible. The third time was Monday afternoon after school. I’d just walked out the school gate when I saw Dad waiting for me. When he saw me coming, he rushed over, holding up a beautifully wrapped box—the limited edition Elsa magic wand I’d begged him for months to buy. I used to remind him about it every day, saying I wanted it for the school cosplay competition. “Ellie, look what Dad bought you.” He held the box out to me, his tone a bit pleading. “The one I promised to buy you. Your favorite.” I stared at the box with Elsa’s picture on it for three seconds, then shook my head. “Thank you, Uncle, but Mom already bought me one last week.” Without waiting for him to respond, I ran across the street with my backpack. Mom was waiting for me at the bubble tea shop entrance, holding my favorite pearl milk tea. When I ran over, I glanced back. Dad was still standing there, holding the magic wand, like a forgotten scarecrow. After that, he came to wait at the school gate for several days in a row. Sometimes he brought strawberry cake, sometimes my favorite fried skewers. But each time I only said, “Thank you, Uncle, I don’t want it,” then turned and walked away. Until three days before the sports meet, he didn’t bring any gifts. He just stood at the gate. His back was straight, like a kindergartener about to take a pledge. “Ellie,” he crouched down, his hands pressing on my shoulders with some force. “Next week is the kindergarten sports meet. Dad will definitely be there. This time I’ll only be your dad, only cheer for you. Okay?” His eyes were bright, almost frighteningly bright. “Dad swears.” He held up three fingers like in TV shows. “If I’m lying, I’ll… I’ll turn into a puppy.” I didn’t say anything. I looked at the tiny reflection of myself in his eyes and nodded slightly. He smiled immediately and picked me up, spinning me around. “Then it’s settled!” I nodded. I said quietly in my heart, I’ll trust him one more time. If he really came this time, I’d call him Dad again.

The sun on sports meet day was so bright it hurt to look at. I stood under the sycamore tree by the school gate half an hour early, waiting. “Ellie, the parent-child relay race starts in ten minutes. Is your dad here yet?” The teacher walked over holding a starter pistol. I stood on tiptoe looking toward the intersection, my neck getting sore, and nodded hard. “He’s coming!” But the gate was empty. The warm-up music started playing. All the children and parents held hands in a circle. I stood alone. The teacher came over and took my hand. “Ellie, let’s do this with Ms. Wilson first, okay?” I nodded but kept my eyes on the gate. During the third section of warm-up exercises, I saw Dad. He was running in, carrying a plastic bag, his forehead covered in sweat. I almost jumped and waved at him. But the next second, I saw him run straight to Max. Max was sitting on the ground hugging his knees, crying. Mrs. Rivera was anxiously making a phone call nearby. Dad rushed over and crouched down, carefully examining Max’s knee. I stood on tiptoe and saw a small red mark on Max’s knee—probably just a scraped patch of skin. Dad pulled iodine and a band-aid from the plastic bag, his movements practiced like he’d done this a hundred times. He said something to Mrs. Rivera while treating the wound. Mrs. Rivera covered her mouth, her eyes red again. The teacher urged the parent-child relay participants to gather at the starting line. I stood in place, watching Dad fifty meters away gently blow on Max’s knee, then scoop him up and walk toward the nurse’s office. “Ellie Miller! It’s your turn!” the teacher shouted beside me. I mechanically walked to the starting line. The referee teacher looked beside me. “Where’s your parent?” “He…” I opened my mouth and saw the nurse’s office door close. “Her parent is here.” Mom’s voice came from behind me. I whipped around and saw Mom running over, pulling an uncle I’d never seen before. Mom was out of breath, her hair a bit messy. “I’m sorry, Ellie. Mom’s late.” Mom crouched down and hugged me. Her arms were trembling. The uncle also crouched down, looking me in the eye. “You must be Ellie. I’m Liam. I’m your mom’s friend. I just heard from your mom that you’re in the relay race. I even borrowed matching clothes. Want to bring me along? I’m really fast—I won first place at my company sports meet last time.” The teacher walked over just then, looking at Liam in surprise. “And you are?” I stared at the smile in Uncle Liam’s eyes, then glanced at Dad who had just walked out of the nurse’s office and was looking this way. Suddenly I raised my hand and pointed at Liam, my voice loud enough for the entire field to hear: “This is my dad!” Time seemed to freeze. Dad stood twenty meters away, frozen mid-step.

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I got pregnant at the same time as a doctor from another department. But right after my NT scan, the head nurse came knocking at my door. “The hospital is short-staffed. Management has a rule that only one woman can be pregnant during the same period.” “The slot goes to Dr. Harris this time. You need to get an abortion right away!” I was stunned. “Dr. Harris and I aren’t even in the same department. Our work doesn’t conflict at all.” “Plus, I’m a nurse and she’s a doctor. We’re not even on the same shift schedule.” But the head nurse just stubbornly tapped on my desk. “This is hospital policy. No one gets special treatment!” “Either you abort the baby, or you transfer to logistics. Your choice.” Transferring to logistics meant no hope for advancement for the rest of my career. I’d be stuck making two thousand dollars in base pay. My fingers clenched tighter and tighter. I’d worked at this hospital for eight years. I was the hardest-working nurse on the front lines, winning excellence awards every single year. And yet I wasn’t even allowed to be pregnant. I took a breath and looked calmly at the head nurse. “I agree to transfer to logistics.” Less than a week after I transferred, the department fell into complete chaos.

The head nurse changed her tone, patting my back with forced friendliness. “Chloe, you know the hospital has always been understaffed.” “You’re a veteran here. You need to set a good example and follow orders.” I stared at the eight certificates of excellence on my desk without saying a word. The first certificate came from spending half a year on the pandemic frontlines. The second came from participating in nearly a thousand surgeries without a single mistake. The eighth came from working night shifts every Christmas for eight consecutive years. I’d already set enough of a good example. I’d already followed enough orders. When I looked up again, my voice was soft. “I’m going to see the director.” The head nurse finally dropped her smile, her face turning ashen. She said, “Go ahead. It won’t make any difference.” I took a breath and knocked on Director David Harris’s door. Dr. Melody Harris was actually inside too. What was a doctor from another department doing in our department director’s office? But I figured out the answer soon enough. Melody placed two boxes of tea on David Harris’s desk and laughed lightly. “Uncle David, this is tea from back home. Give it a try.” “Dad said this is your favorite.” David Harris’s face showed an expression of warmth I’d never seen before. “Your father really knows me. That’s cousins for you.” “Melody, go home and rest now. I’ve already arranged for you to have fewer shifts.” “You need to take it easy in early pregnancy. I’m waiting to give my grand-nephew a red envelope.” Melody turned around and brushed past me. She glanced at my belly like she was looking at a piece of dead meat. “Chloe, what are you doing here?” David Harris resumed his businesslike demeanor. “Director Harris, I think the hospital’s arrangement for me to have an abortion is unreasonable.” “My work doesn’t conflict with Dr. Harris’s. I’m the only one pregnant in our department. The work can easily be covered.” But David Harris just lazily lifted his eyelids. “Chloe, this is the hospital’s decision. There’s nothing I can do.” I clenched my fists. “Then why do I have to abort? Why not Dr. Harris?” At the mention of his niece’s name, David Harris shot up from his seat. “Chloe, what are you trying to say?” “Dr. Harris is a top-tier graduate, a rising star in this hospital. It’s perfectly natural for her to be pregnant!” “Who told you not to get pregnant earlier? You’re so old now and suddenly want a baby. Shameless.” But David Harris knew better than anyone why I hadn’t gotten pregnant earlier. When I was younger, I’d thought about trying for a baby. He said the hospital was short-staffed, that I was the most reliable, that I needed to dedicate myself to the medical cause. I listened. And then what? What did I get in return? I grabbed the door handle and pulled it open a crack. “If you won’t handle this, I’ll go to the hospital director for an explanation.” David Harris said nothing, his expression unnaturally calm. When I knocked on the hospital director’s office door, I understood why he’d been so calm. Because on the director’s desk sat two boxes of fresh tea. Identical to the ones Melody had given David Harris. Before I could even speak, the director pulled up a chair and began earnestly. “Chloe, I know you’re here about the baby, but there’s nothing I can do either.” “The hospital does have a rule—only one internal pregnancy slot per year. After all, we save lives. We can’t afford to be short-staffed.” “Why isn’t Melody the one who has to abort?” I continued. The director frowned, seeming to find me completely unreasonable. “Dr. Harris is a young backbone doctor with high education and high qualifications. How can you, a nurse, compare to her?” “Chloe, you’re a veteran here. Be reasonable. Show some spirit of dedication.” I spoke calmly. “Is it because Melody is David Harris’s niece?” The director immediately flared up. “Chloe, what nonsense are you spouting!” “Our hospital maintains high ethical standards. We don’t have that kind of nepotism! You’d better watch what you say.” “Fine. I understand.” I stood up. “Director, I won’t abort. I agree to transfer to logistics.” The director pushed up his glasses, his expression unreadable. “You’ve thought this through? Is it worth sacrificing your career for a baby?” “If you really want a child that badly, I’ll give you special approval for next year’s slot, okay?” I said nothing and left the office. The director had it wrong. Transferring to logistics wasn’t surrender—it was a declaration of war. Since they all looked down on nurses, I’d guarantee that within a week, the department would fall apart.

The next morning, the official document transferring me to logistics was distributed to all departments. At the morning meeting, the head nurse slammed the desk so hard it shook. “Some people put their own selfish interests ahead of the entire department’s reputation. And look at the result—you all saw it.” “Don’t any of you follow that bad example. Don’t think being a veteran employee gives you special privileges. Everyone is equal in this hospital!” The young nurses didn’t dare make a sound, only casting curious glances at my not-yet-swollen belly. I ignored it all and focused on packing up my things. The eight certificates of excellence I’d once been so proud of went to the very bottom of the box. As I carried my things out, not a single person came to help. Even though I’d covered their night shifts so many times. Even though I’d taught them hand-in-hand how to assist in surgery. Only the head nurse looked up at me. She said, “Chloe, you’ll regret this. But it’ll be too late.” But I wanted to say—I won’t. The ones who’ll regret this will be them. As I placed my box on the cart, Melody came breezing into our department again. It seemed her shifts really had been reduced. Otherwise she wouldn’t be so free. Melody held an armful of candy, distributing it to all the young nurses. “It’s a custom from back home—when you first get pregnant, you give everyone candy to bring good fortune to the baby.” Immediately, everyone in the department chimed in. “Dr. Harris, don’t worry. The baby will definitely be born safe and sound!” “Yeah, you’re so beautiful. The baby will take after you and be gorgeous too.” The head nurse’s voice was the loudest. “If you ask me, babies need to know how to choose the right womb.” “Being born to Dr. Harris means a lifetime of happiness. Being born to someone else? Well, that’s another story!” I gripped the cart handle, my lips pressed tight. I said nothing. Instead, Melody walked over with a smile, stuffing the last few pieces of candy into my hand. “Nurse Chloe, I heard about what happened to you. Have this candy for good luck.” “I wish, I wish you success with your next pregnancy.” “Not next time,” I said calmly, lifting my head. “I’ve already applied to transfer to logistics. I’m keeping this baby.” “Dr. Harris, your uncle helped reduce your shifts. Since you haven’t been at work, you naturally wouldn’t know this news.” Melody froze, her face flushing red then white, apparently not expecting me to mention their relationship so openly. I didn’t look at her again and pulled my cart toward the exit. But I’d barely taken a step when I heard the head nurse’s furious voice. “Chloe! Wait!” “Did you take something you shouldn’t have? Put it down!”

I stopped and looked down at the cart. Three large boxes, all packed with my own things. But before I could speak, in full view of everyone, the head nurse rushed over. “Chloe, open your boxes. I need to inspect them.” I blocked her path. “You don’t have that authority.” Though I was speaking to the head nurse, my eyes were locked on Melody the whole time. Because it was after Melody whispered to the head nurse that she called me out. And I’d packed everything under the head nurse’s nose in the first place. Melody stroked her belly, calmly meeting my gaze. But the head nurse had already pushed me aside and turned the boxes completely upside down. “You can’t take this banner. This represents the department’s honor, not your personal achievement!” I pointed at the words on the banner. “The department’s honor? Head nurse, this has my personal name on it.” “Still not allowed.” The head nurse carelessly tossed the banner aside. “These operation manuals and training notes can’t be taken either. These are our department’s confidential materials!” “The preserved flowers from discharged patients can’t go either. They gave those to you because of the department’s reputation!” Eventually, the head nurse even took the half-used notebook and pen from my hands. “These also belong to our department. Chloe, you can’t be a thief!” I looked at the mess on the floor, having no doubt that after I left, all of this would end up in the trash. The head nurse didn’t want any of it. She just wanted to humiliate me. Finally, the head nurse pulled out those eight certificates of excellence. After thinking for a moment, she shoved them into the paper shredder. “Chloe, you earned these honors by relying on our department. How dare you take them?” I listened to the sound of the shredder working. Crunch, crunch. Ten seconds to destroy eight years of my hard work. But I didn’t argue. I didn’t even move. After all, I didn’t care about these worthless pieces of paper I’d earned through self-sacrifice anymore. “Look more carefully. Make sure you didn’t miss anything.” I even smiled slightly. The head nurse seemed surprised by my reaction and froze for a moment. And at that exact moment, Melody stepped forward. “Head nurse, although I shouldn’t get involved in your department’s affairs, we’re all friends, so I’ll speak up.” “The nurse’s uniform Chloe is wearing still belongs to your department. I wonder if it’ll be useful later?” The moment she said this, the department fell silent. I looked at Melody. Her expression was innocent, but her eyes held malice. The head nurse immediately caught on, pointing at my nose. “Dr. Harris is right. Chloe! Take off that uniform right now! It belongs to the department!” Seeing that I wasn’t moving, the head nurse even tried to grab me. I stepped back twice and slowly removed my nurse’s uniform, draping it over a chair. “Very good. You’ve done very well. I’ll remember this.” With that, I pulled my nearly empty boxes and walked out. The moment I turned the corner, I heard footsteps behind me. “Nurse Chloe, wait.” It was Melody. She caught up in a few steps. The politeness she’d shown in front of everyone had completely vanished. She frowned at me. “Chloe, who told you to go to the director and make trouble? Who told you to blow this up?” “Do you know what people are saying about me now? That I used connections to force you out!” “Oh.” I suddenly laughed. So that’s why Melody targeted me today. “Isn’t that the truth, Dr. Harris?” Melody hadn’t heard the groveling apology she’d imagined. Her face instantly flushed red. “Chloe, I really don’t understand why someone with no connections like you acts so arrogant.” I didn’t answer. I just slowly turned around. Melody thought she’d won this silent war, that she’d secured the right to have a child. The head nurse thought she’d won prestige, that she could trample this veteran employee underfoot. But they were wrong. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about competing with them for status. I was just waiting for the moment when the real show began.

The logistics department mainly handled purchasing and distributing basic office supplies. The staff was small. Besides me, there were just a few interns and old employees waiting for retirement. The person next to me was named Luna, a senior doing her internship. She was naturally friendly, helping me unload my boxes with nimble hands while smacking her lips. “Chloe, is it true you transferred to logistics just to have your baby?” I kept my head down, organizing things, and didn’t respond. Who knew if she was like the nurses in my old department—just waiting to laugh at my misfortune and kick me while I was down. The silence grew, but Luna kept talking to herself. “Man, I think that rule is pretty unfair, don’t you?” “You and Dr. Harris are in different departments with different jobs. Both being pregnant wouldn’t affect anything. I don’t know what the leaders were thinking.” “But logistics has no future. Chloe, what are you going to do after you give birth?” “Luna! Don’t talk so much!” someone nearby warned her. “Remember last time you complained to management about logistics’ low pay and got chewed out for a whole morning?” “If it’s not our business, don’t stick your nose in it. Do you want to keep this job or not?” Luna’s hands didn’t stop, helping me arrange my desk as she muttered under her breath. “I just think it’s unfair. It doesn’t affect the department’s work. What’s wrong with being pregnant…” I finally looked up at her. She had a very likable baby face. “It’s fine. Logistics is pretty good,” I said. For the next three days, I calmly went to and from work, doing my assigned tasks. No more endless overtime. No more dealing with patients. The days seemed tolerable. Occasionally, when people from my old department came to requisition office supplies, they no longer spoke to me with the same courtesy. Instead, they were dismissive. The kind of disdain a proper nurse has for someone who coasts along in logistics waiting to collect a paycheck. “Chloe, it’s such a shame you’ve fallen this far.” I handed her the office supplies with no expression. “I think it’s pretty good.” The young nurse curled her lip. “I think you’re just shackled by that baby. Do you really have to have it? Pregnancy hormones are scary.” But she didn’t understand—this wasn’t about pregnancy hormones. It wasn’t just about this baby. I was seeking fairness. Justice. Real equality. Not a situation where someone could pull strings and cut off all my paths forward. The turning point came on the fourth day. I’d just gotten off work when my phone started vibrating. One SnapChat message. Then a second. A third. A fourth. It vibrated eighteen times total. Eighteen times—the exact number of nurses in our department. Each message represented a problem they couldn’t handle, a difficult situation. Before I could even open the chat, the head nurse called. On the other end, the department was in chaos. “Chloe, reply to everyone’s messages right now! Hurry!” I gripped my phone, my voice soft but firm. “Why should I?”

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Three years into my marriage to Carter Hayes, he had everyone hide the fact that he was keeping a younger, fresher girl on the side. Everyone around us said I was his one true love, his guiding light, his sole weakness. Yet, after a few drinks, he laughed and told his friends, “Audrey Davis? Once I finally married her, I realized she’s nothing to write home about.” The man who swore at seventeen to love me forever… Was currently holding a young girl, coaxing her, “She’s so boring. Of course I love you the most, baby.” The day I left, it was like any other day. No one noticed a thing. The housekeeper smiled and asked if I was going out shopping and for afternoon tea. I smiled back and nodded. “You don’t need to prepare dinner for me tonight.” When a man’s heart strays, you don’t weep. You strike the match, burn the memories, and scatter his ashes to the wind. Carter Hayes didn’t know that the “nothing special” Audrey Davis had a backbone of steel. In her dictionary, the word “forgiveness” never existed. 1 I clutched my wool coat, my other hand holding a pharmacy bag filled with hangover-recovery supplements. The corridor of the private club was endlessly long. The dim lighting caught the edges of oil paintings, casting fractured shadows across the floor. Laughter echoed from the room at the very end of the hall. Carter kept this entire floor booked year-round. No outsiders were allowed within fifty feet, so they hadn’t even bothered to close the door. My heel caught on the thick carpet. As I bent down to steady myself, the pearl necklace around my throat suddenly snapped. Pearls of all sizes scattered across the floor. A sharp, inexplicable pain pierced my chest. Just as I crouched down to gather the beads, I heard Carter’s voice. “Come on, I’m not a player like the rest of you.” “My first love, the love of my life, my everything—it’s only ever been my wife.” He sounded drunk. His voice was thick with liquor, swelling with pride and arrogance. I couldn’t help but press my lips together. Clutching a cool pearl in my palm, my heart smoothed out, feeling oddly comforted. “It’s just a shame.” Carter suddenly sighed. “Once I finally got her, I realized she’s nothing to write home about. Utterly ordinary.” My hand clamped shut. The pearl dug into the soft flesh of my palm. The smile froze on my lips. “Then what about me, Carter?!” A soft, delicate female voice suddenly chimed in. It dripped with a resentful, unwilling whine. “You say your wife is the only love of your life. So what am I to you?” “Just last night, you swore you loved me the most!” The men in the room erupted into laughter. “Silly girl, you actually believe what a man says in bed?” “Besides, it’s a given that a man loves his wife.” “You’re just the side piece—what are you fighting for?” “Carter! Look at them!” The girl’s voice cracked with tears. She sounded so pitiful, it was enough to make anyone’s heart ache. 2 “Alright, that’s enough. Stop messing with her.” “What’s this ‘side piece’ garbage? This is my actual girlfriend. Watch your mouths.” Carter’s voice deepened, carrying a hint of genuine displeasure. “No way, Carter. You’re serious about this one?” Carter gave a soft “Yeah.” Then added, “She’s been with me since she was eighteen. I have to take responsibility.” “You animal. You went after her the second she was legal.” “Aren’t you afraid your wife will find out and raise hell?” Carter laughed. “She relies on me to survive. What’s she going to raise hell with?” “But seriously, keep your mouths shut. I love my wife. I don’t want to make her sad.” “You love your wife, but what about me?” The young girl started whining again. Carter reached out, pulling her into his arms to coax her. “Are you really crying over a joke?” The girl sniffled, acting spoiled. “Carter, tell me I’m the one you love the most… even if you’re lying, I just want to hear it.” “Alright, baby. She’s so boring. Of course I love you the most.” Standing in the shadows outside the door, I suddenly smiled. The man who once swore to love me for a lifetime. Was currently sweet-talking a younger girl. Yet, I didn’t even feel the urge to walk in and confront him. Once unfaithful, forever discarded. I turned around and walked back down that long, suffocating corridor. When he was seventeen, Carter had secretly carved my name into his high school desk. He said Carter Hayes loved Audrey Davis, and he would love her for the rest of his life. But his “lifetime” was nothing more than a fleeting ten years. 3 When Carter came home the next morning, I was already downstairs eating breakfast. He rushed in, clutching a massive bouquet of flowers and a gift box. His face was a portrait of apology and guilt. “I’m so sorry, honey. The business dinner went incredibly late last night. I just couldn’t make it back.” When we got married, he promised that no matter how busy he was, he would never spend the night away from home. But over the past six months, he had been coming home later and later. This time, he hadn’t come back at all. I put down my fork and looked up at him. His suit, shirt, and tie were all freshly changed. He smelled clean, crisp, and minty. It must have been so exhausting for him, being this careful. He set the flowers down and walked over, leaning in to kiss me. “Honey, I swear, this is the first and last time.” I raised a hand to block him. Staring right at him, I asked, word by word: “Did you sleep at the office last night?” Carter didn’t hesitate for a second. “Yes. Look, I even changed into the spare clothes you packed for my office wardrobe.” He gripped my shoulders, looking at me with cautious eyes. “Honey, are you mad at me?” “I’ll stay with you all day today. I won’t go into the office, okay?” I looked at him. I looked at my own reflection in his dark eyes. He didn’t flinch. There wasn’t a trace of guilt on his face. And amazingly, I managed to hide my absolute heartbreak flawlessly. “No.” I pushed his hands away. “Eat your breakfast.” But the moment he sat down, his phone rang. I watched him frown and decline the call. Seconds later, it rang again. He hesitated for a moment, then declined it again. Immediately, a text message popped up. Carter read it, and his brow furrowed deeply. “Audrey, there’s an emergency at the office…” “Go.” “Never mind, I’ll have Marcus handle it. I promised to stay with you all day.” He said the words, but his mind was clearly already out the door. “No, work is more important. You should go.” I looked at him calmly. Even the pain in my chest had gone numb. Carter only struggled for a brief second before standing up. “Then I’ll try to come back early to be with you.” I murmured a soft “Okay,” and watched him rush out to his car. Only after he drove away did I finally reach up and wipe the cold tears from my cheeks. I picked up my phone and called my best friend. “Brie, can you book me in for a full exam at your clinic today?” 4 When the test results came back, I let out a massive sigh of relief. My STD panel was entirely clean. And I wasn’t pregnant. When I married Carter, my health was incredibly fragile. Because of that, we had put off having children. But just to be absolutely safe, I asked for a comprehensive workup. “Doctor, I wanted to ask, how is my body recovering overall?” Once I got the green light that my health had fully stabilized, the heavy fog in my chest finally began to clear. Clutching my medical report, I walked out of the office. Just as I turned the corner into the hallway, I heard Carter’s name. “Carter, if I’m really pregnant, can I please keep it?” I stopped in my tracks and looked at the two figures standing a few yards away. Carter had a cigarette clamped between his fingers. He looked annoyed, his brows locked together. The young girl was bare-faced, her cheeks stained with fresh tears. She was tugging on his sleeve, practically begging. Carter sneered. “My wife hasn’t even had a child yet. You think it’s your turn?” “But this is my first baby. I can’t bear to lose it.” “I promise I’ll be good. I’ll never cause you any trouble.” “And I’ll make sure your wife never finds out about me or the baby.” Carter took the hand holding the cigarette and lightly patted her cheek. “Don’t be naive, baby. There’s no way I’m letting you have this kid.” “Be a good girl. Have the abortion, and I’ll buy you a condo.” “But if you refuse… Chloe, I’m warning you right now.” “There are plenty of pretty, obedient girls at your college. I could sleep with a different one every night if I wanted to. You’re not irreplaceable.” The girl was utterly terrified by his words. Her face went deathly pale beneath her tears. “I’ll be good. Carter, please don’t leave me.” “Good girl. Go get the ultrasound.” “I’ll go get the checkup. It’s just… you said your wife is too sick to have kids.” “If I really am pregnant, think of it as me having the baby for her. She can even raise it! I won’t fight for custody, I swear. Please?” Carter fell silent for a moment. “Just go get the checkup. We’ll talk after.” The girl sobbed as she pushed the clinic door open and went inside. Carter finished his cigarette and stamped it out. As he turned around, I pretended I had just walked down the hall. When he saw me, he froze. But a second later, his face contorted into a mask of frantic worry. “Honey! What are you doing at the hospital?” “Are you sick? Did you get hurt?”

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When he said he wouldn’t come home for the holidays, I packed my bags and returned to my hometown alone. When he helped Eleanor rent the apartment next door, I moved my things out. When he decided to take a permanent position at the local college, I applied to a university out in the Pacific Northwest. In my previous life, when we were old and gray, even our two children urged me to divorce him. All so that, after they passed, those two star-crossed lovers could be buried side by side. 1 Looking at the college acceptance letter in my hand, I nearly shed a tear. No one knew that I had been reborn. At the very last minute, I had changed my college application to the Pacific Northwest Engineering Institute. Even my high school counselor, Mr. Harrison, was perplexed. “I thought your fiancé was staying to teach at the local college? If you go so far away for your degree, will he wait for you?” At the mention of Oliver Smith, the image of his tall, youthful figure flashed through my mind. Honestly, everyone thought I was the lucky one to have Oliver. He was ambitious and handsome. I only had the right to stand beside him because of a childhood promise made by our families when we were kids. I smiled and replied loudly, “Mr. Harrison, free love is the trend now!” “That childhood betrothal our families made is just an outdated tradition, it’s got to go!” Perhaps he hadn’t expected me to be so forward-thinking. Mr. Harrison patted my shoulder, his eyes full of approval. Leaving the school, I followed the flow of the crowd toward home. 2 In my past life, I never even went to college. Because just a few days from now was the date set for my wedding to Oliver. Soon after, I got pregnant, and my education ended there. Shortly after Oliver stayed to teach at the college, he was transferred to a government agency. From then on, we lived entirely different lives. Outside, he climbed the corporate ladder. Wherever he went, Eleanor Davis—the star of the local community theater—followed, transferring her job and bringing her daughter along. And me? I was trapped in my little domestic bubble, taking care of his bedridden parents and raising the kids. I watched my son grow from a babbling toddler who clung to me, to a young man who gradually grew distant, drifting step by step toward Oliver. Later, I didn’t even know my son was marrying Eleanor’s daughter until after the wedding was over. I only saw it in a photo shown to me by an old friend. In the picture, as my son and his new bride made a toast, Oliver and Eleanor stood side by side, smiling at each other with undeniable affection. Later still, my son urged me to get a divorce on more than one occasion. He said, “Mom, Dad has suffered his whole life. If it weren’t for you, he’d have been with my mother-in-law long ago.” “Mom, you two don’t match at all. Why can’t you just let go?” Even my daughter-in-law refused to see me. But what could I do? I was so bitter! I was bitter because when my in-laws were paralyzed and I was serving them day and night, he was out playing house with another woman. I was bitter because when my son had a midnight fever, I was in such a panic that I ran three miles barefoot to get the doctor, while he was taking someone else’s woman to piano lessons and helping another man’s daughter with her homework. I was bitter because I had given up everything for this family, only to reach the end and hear… Him say it. Them say it. Everyone say it. We didn’t match. Everyone blamed me. Why couldn’t I just let go? But I refused. The exhaustion of my youth had carved deep trenches into my face, leaving me looking ancient and withered. Even if it killed me, I was going to drag them down with me. As for whether they got together after I died, I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t have the strength to care. Finally, I died right after my son urged me to divorce him one last time. He had talked for hours, and seeing my stubborn silence, he stormed off in anger. What he didn’t know was that before his slamming door even latched, I had a massive heart attack. I called out to him, but he didn’t even look back. In that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of regret. Why did I ever give birth to him… Why did I throw my entire life away for him? But thankfully, I was reborn. I returned to the days right before my wedding to Oliver. There was still time to change everything. 3 When I got home, I hid the acceptance letter and started making dinner. This two-bedroom apartment was subsidized housing provided by Oliver’s university. While waiting for the water to boil, I found the calendar in the living room. I located the date I needed to report to the university next month and drew a big red circle around it with a pen. I stared at that circled number with longing. Soon. Very soon. Soon, I would be completely free. 4 The food was barely on the table when Oliver walked in. Unsurprisingly, Eleanor was right behind him, holding her daughter’s hand. “I’m so sorry to intrude again,” she said softly. Eleanor was pale and pretty, with an oval face. The bright red trench coat she wore gave her an indescribable charm. The little girl, Lily, was used to coming over. Seeing that I had finished cooking, she cheered and expertly went to serve the mashed potatoes and roast beef. A plate for her, a plate for Oliver, a plate for Eleanor. Only… None for me. By the time I walked out of the kitchen, the three of them were sitting around the table, laughing and talking as if they were a happy family. But as soon as they took a bite, all three spat their food out simultaneously. “Mommy, it’s so salty!” I leaned casually against the kitchen doorframe. I watched Oliver quickly pour a glass of water for both mother and daughter. But the water was heavily salted, too. Finally, Eleanor left in tears. Before walking out, she turned to Oliver and said, “She obviously doesn’t welcome me here. I just won’t come around anymore.” Oliver walked them to the door. When he came back, his brows were tightly knit. I ignored him and went straight to the kitchen to cook myself a fresh meal. “Did you do that on purpose?” Oliver seemed genuinely baffled. Then he started his usual defense. “Her husband died in the line of duty, and he asked me to look after them. You’re a great cook, and Lily loves your food.” Seeing my continued silence, Oliver shook his head, seemingly compromising. “Since you don’t like it, I won’t invite them over for dinner anymore.” 5 The next morning, after Oliver left, I pulled out my duffel bag to pack for a trip back to my rural hometown. Although our parents had promised us to each other, our families had officially exchanged heirlooms. If we were really going to break it off, the engagement had to be annulled with the town elders present, to avoid any messy rumors later. While packing, I saw the quilts and crocheted blankets I had secretly made over the past few years. I thought about it, stuffed them all into a heavy canvas bag—along with some hand-stitched shoes I’d made—and hauled it down to the antique consignment shop at the end of the street. Things I had spent years making sold for a mere thirty dollars. It wasn’t much, but food and rent at college would be a massive expense, and I needed every penny I could save. When I got home, I drew a massive X over today’s date on the calendar. Twenty days left. Just twenty more days, and I could leave this place and start my new life. 6 Oliver came back very late. The dinner I had left out was completely untouched. “I ate at the campus cafeteria,” he explained casually. But smelling the faint, white-tea perfume lingering on his jacket, I knew exactly who he had eaten with. He knew bringing them here would irritate me, so he just took them out to eat instead. I silently cleared the table and went to my room. My room was filled with high school textbooks and test papers. Since they wouldn’t all fit, many were stacked in the living room. I started tying the books in my room together with twine. I planned to pack up the ones in the living room tomorrow when Oliver was at work. Since I was leaving, it wasn’t appropriate to leave anything of mine behind. As I was packing, I heard a knock on my door. I knew it was Oliver. He was always polite to me and would never step foot into my room without my permission. “What is it?” I asked, not wanting him to see me packing. There was silence on the other side for a moment before he spoke. “I’m filling out the marriage license application for City Hall. Does the ninth of next month work for you?” The ninth of next month. The exact day of my wedding in my past life. I glanced at my packed duffel bag and said flatly, “Marriage is a big deal. Let me ask my folks back home tomorrow before we decide.” There was a long silence outside before I finally heard his footsteps walk away. I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the headboard. Honestly, with his current status, he didn’t need to consult my family for a marriage license. Since my parents passed away when I was young, Oliver’s parents had taken me in because of our families’ promise. In everyone’s eyes, I was already a part of the Smith family. The paperwork was just a formality. Besides, he was handsome, had a great job, and treated me decently enough. Anyone with eyes could see that my heart had belonged to him for years. It was true that I owed the Smith family. But no matter what, I had already paid off that debt with my entire past life. I owed them nothing anymore. In this life, I was going to walk my own path. A path without Oliver Smith.

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After the local “sweetheart” returned to our rural town, she publicly accused my dad of scamming the townsfolk out of $300,000 in dirty money. She claimed that she had eaten a premium lobster and filet mignon dinner at a high-end city restaurant for a mere $199. So why on earth, she asked, was my dad charging $500 a table to cater country weddings? Hearing the numbers, the locals saw red and demanded my dad refund their money. They cursed him, called him a useless cripple, and sneered that it was no wonder his wife had run out on him. Furious, I packed up immediately, taking my dad back to the city with me, and swore we would never cater another local event. The two-faced girl instantly bragged that she would take over all the town’s catering from now on. Premium lobster for $199 a table, she promised! Shortly after, a lunatic showed up at the front doors of my upscale city restaurant, boasting about a massive business deal. “I’m here to bring your restaurant huge business! To show my sincerity, I’ll book 20 tables of that $199 lobster combo. Since I’m buying in bulk, give me a discount—$150 a table, deal?” 1 My dad catered the weddings for practically the entire county, and Travis Stone’s big day was no exception. At $500 a table, Travis had ordered enough food for twenty tables. On the drive over, I joked, “Dad, you’re getting older. Let’s make this your last gig, and then you can come to the city and be the general manager at my restaurant.” My dad let out a soft huff. “You cook for the money, Chloe. I cook for the heart.” My dad walked with a heavy limp. Years ago, people looked down on him for it, and even my mom ended up leaving him. When I was little, he cooked for the local logging camps. When things got better, he started catering town events. Once I started making good money, I begged him to retire. Rural catering is backbreaking labor with razor-thin margins, but he refused. He just loved it when folks called him Chef Arthur and praised his cooking for being delicious and hearty. We brought the whole family and hired four local kitchen hands. It took half the day just to haul all the equipment to the Stone family’s property. Travis politely handed my dad a cigarette. “Mr. Miller, I owe you everything. If you hadn’t fronted the cost for these twenty tables on credit, I wouldn’t even be getting married today. Don’t worry, as soon as we open the wedding envelopes tonight, I’ll pay off everything I owe you.” My dad waved him off with a smile, telling Travis to go focus on his big day. The banquet was shaping up beautifully. The whole town had shown up; people were playing cards, drinking beer, and laughing. But just before noon, the peace shattered. A shrill female voice pierced the air: “You guys are running a total scam! It’s one thing to rip off strangers, but how can you rob your own neighbors?!” The lively yard instantly fell dead silent. Everyone turned toward the voice. I looked up. It was Brittany Clark, the local girl who had gone off to college. My dad, visibly confused, wiped his hands on his apron. “Brittany? What are you talking about? Who are we robbing?” Travis rushed over, looking panicked. “Brittany, what kind of scene are you causing at my wedding?” Brittany glared at him. “Travis, they’re charging you $500 a table! If that isn’t a scam, what is?” She was seething, looking at us as if my family had committed some unspeakable crime. The locals were utterly bewildered and started whispering among themselves. “But $500 a table is standard around here. We couldn’t afford anything pricier.” “Yeah, when my daughter got married last month, it was $500 a table too.” Travis scratched his head. “Isn’t $500 the normal price? Brittany, if you ruin my wedding day, I swear I’ll make you pay for it.” Brittany frantically waved her hands. “I’m not ruining anything! I’m telling the truth! This family is making filthy, dirty money off you all!” “Just two days ago, I went to a high-end restaurant in the city. We had lobster, filet mignon, the works. Guess how much it cost?” At the mention of lobster and steak, the villagers’ eyes widened. Most of them had never eaten food like that in their lives. A meal like that had to be thousands of dollars, right? Brittany slammed a receipt onto a nearby table, lifting her chin proudly. “It only cost $199!” The crowd gasped. Lobster and steak for $199? Impossible! People shoved each other out of the way to look at the receipt. It really did say $199. I didn’t even need to look at the slip of paper. I already knew what it was, because I owned that restaurant. 2 A few days ago, Brittany had brought her college friends to my restaurant. Her friends were openly mocking her for being a rural hick and a broke farm girl. To embarrass her, they purposefully ordered the most expensive items on the menu. When the bill came, Brittany sneaked away to find a server, practically begging for a discount. She was on the verge of tears, nervously pulling out two crumpled hundred-dollar bills from her cheap purse. I happened to be on the floor and recognized her. Since we were from the same small town, I wanted to save her face. I quietly instructed the manager to comp the rest of the $6,000 bill and ring her up for exactly $199. After paying, she went right back to her friends, bragging about how it was pocket change. They were thoroughly impressed. I never expected that she would return to our hometown just to smash my dad’s livelihood! Brittany dragged a chair to the center of the yard and stood on it, projecting her voice. “A luxury city restaurant charges $199 for lobster! Meanwhile, Arthur charges $500 for cheap chicken and potatoes! Why?!” “Have any of you done the math? If he makes $300 in pure profit per table, ten tables is $3,000!” “They’ve monopolized the catering for the entire county! He probably caters over a thousand tables a year. That’s $300,000! Three hundred thousand dollars! How many years do you farmers have to break your backs in the dirt to see that kind of money?!” “They are rotten, greedy, shameless capitalists! As a college-educated woman from this town, I have to stand up and protect my community’s interests!” For the locals, $300,000 was an astronomical sum. Whether Brittany’s logic made sense or not, a dark, ugly jealousy clouded the villagers’ eyes. The friendly, laughing crowd from moments ago vanished. Now, they stared at me and my dad with naked hatred. My dad was trembling with anger. “You’re speaking nonsense! We’ve never made dirty money! With inflation the way it is, $500 for a massive buffet table is basically at-cost!” I stepped up beside him. “You say we make dirty money? Show us the proof.” I worked in the restaurant industry; I knew better than anyone that $500 a table was an absolute steal. A single table included twelve massive courses—roast beef, fried chicken, glazed ham, whole fish—not to mention we provided the tables, the chairs, the cutlery, the drinks, and the cleanup. Out of that $500, my dad barely netted $50. It was pure sweat equity. My dad had built up decades of respect in this town. Hearing his defense, the crowd’s glaring eyes softened slightly. But Brittany immediately spat back, “As if anyone would admit to making dirty money! Have you all forgotten? I used to work in his kitchen!” 3 She had indeed worked in our kitchen. Brittany’s family was the poorest in town. Her father was a lazy, violent alcoholic, and her mother had abandoned her at birth. Years ago, after a wedding gig, a teenage Brittany had approached my dad in rags, begging for the leftover scraps. When my dad looked into her situation, his heart broke. That year, she was supposed to start high school, but her dad refused to pay for it, planning to sell her off to an older man for a dowry instead. My dad marched over to her house, argued with her father, and negotiated a deal. He paid her father off, allowed Brittany to work as a kitchen prep cook on weekends for a fair wage, and essentially funded her high school education so she wouldn’t be forced into a child marriage. When she got accepted to college, my dad handed her an envelope with $5,000 inside. Every few weeks, he would proudly tell people that helping a smart girl change her destiny was the best thing he ever did. Had my family been wrong to help her all along? I pulled up a chair and sat down. I wanted to see exactly how far she was willing to take this circus. Brittany pointed an accusing finger at us. “I know all their dirty little secrets! I saw Arthur secretly counting fat stacks of hundred-dollar bills in the back room!” My dad’s eyes turned bloodshot. “You liar! The money you saw was cash my daughter gave me!” I nodded firmly. “That’s right. I send my dad money every single month.” Whenever I wired him money, he always withdrew it in cash because it was easier to buy fresh produce and eggs from the local Amish farmers. To think the money I worked so hard to give my father was now being framed as stolen loot. Brittany crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, looking at me with pure disdain. “Chloe, you’re just a woman. How much money can a woman really make out alone in the big city? You’re probably turning tricks in some dirty alleyway.” Hearing that, my dad completely snapped. He grabbed a heavy metal spatula and lunged toward her. “You vile liar! You can insult me all you want, but don’t you dare insult my daughter! I’ll beat you to a pulp!” Brittany immediately shrieked and hid behind Travis, continuing to fan the flames. “Look at him! He’s lashing out because he’s guilty! If she’s not a streetwalker, then the money is definitely stolen from the town!” The villagers, already whipped into a frenzy, began nodding in agreement. “Brittany’s a smart college girl, she wouldn’t lie to us.” “Yeah, Chloe barely ever comes back to town. Have you seen the clothes she wears? Proper women don’t dress like that.” “How could a single girl make so much money? Her dad definitely embezzled our money to fund her luxury city lifestyle.” The whispers grew louder and more disgusting. My dad was shaking violently from the humiliation. Suddenly, an older woman dropped to her knees with a heavy thud. 4 Both my dad and I jumped. My dad rushed forward to help her up. “Mrs. Higgins, what are you doing?” But Mrs. Higgins refused to stand, sobbing into her hands. “Arthur, last year when my son graduated high school, you catered his party. We booked ten tables for $5,000.” My dad nodded. “I remember.” Mrs. Higgins grabbed the fabric of his pants, begging, “Please, give me $3,000 back! I have so many kids to feed, and we’re so broke! You have so much money now, just give me my money back!” I immediately stepped in, peeling her hands off my dad. “Mrs. Higgins, that’s not how business works. Prices are agreed upon beforehand. There’s no such thing as retroactive refunds. Besides, at your son’s party, my dad personally handed your boy a $1,000 graduation gift to help with his college supplies!” Seeing her tears weren’t working, Mrs. Higgins stood up, dusted off her knees, and glared at us viciously. “That’s completely different! I didn’t beg you for a gift! You stole our money, so you have to refund it!” “And besides, we aren’t even related. The only reason your dad gave my boy a thousand dollars was because he felt guilty for ripping us off!” I had dealt with my fair share of difficult customers in the restaurant business, but I had never seen anyone this utterly shameless. I defended my dad loudly. “My dad knew your family was struggling, and he wanted to help your son succeed! How can you be so ungrateful?” Brittany immediately pulled Mrs. Higgins behind her. Meeting my gaze, she declared self-righteously, “Don’t think your petty little handouts excuse the fact that you scammed everyone! You owe this town a refund.” I was so angry I actually laughed. “Brittany, show me actual proof that we scammed anyone. Stop throwing dirty water on my family.” Brittany snatched the restaurant receipt and threw it at my feet. “Proof? This $199 lobster dinner is proof! Your designer clothes and fancy car are proof! Your dad’s guilty conscience and bribe money are proof!” “What else is there to defend? You greedy leeches will get what’s coming to you!” Driven by her passionate speech, the townsfolk exploded. “Yeah! Refund us! We break our backs for our money, and you just steal it!” “Let’s go get Mayor Davis! He’ll make them pay!” 5 They didn’t need to fetch him; Mayor Davis had just arrived. Seeing the Mayor, my dad hurried over and grabbed his hand. “Mayor, you’re an educated man. You’ve been to the city. You know what inflation looks like right now. Please, explain to them how the economy works.” Mayor Davis patted my dad’s hand solemnly. “Don’t worry, Arthur. I always serve this town with fairness and justice.” My dad let out a huge sigh of relief. But looking at the Mayor’s shifting eyes, I had a sinking feeling this wasn’t going to end well. After getting a summary of the situation, Mayor Davis nodded slowly. “Arthur, why don’t you tell everyone exactly how much profit you make off one table?” My dad answered honestly, “Less than fifty dollars.” The moment the words left his mouth, Brittany jumped in. “$50 is a lot! Let’s take Travis’s wedding as an example. Twenty tables means you’re pocketing $1,000 in a single day! If that isn’t robbery, what is?” My dad and I were dumbfounded. Did she think there was a 20-table wedding every single day of the year? Even working all year round, my dad barely cleared $40,000, and it had ruined his joints. My dad opened his mouth to explain, but Mayor Davis cut him off. “Arthur, that does seem a bit predatory. The loggers and farmers out here barely make $150 a day doing hard labor. You’re pulling in a thousand dollars a day. How do you justify that?” Furious, I snapped back, “My dad doesn’t work a gig every day! What about the wear and tear on our equipment? The broken plates? The gas for the delivery trucks? Does that stuff not cost money?” “Tsk, tsk. Look at that,” the Mayor scolded. “The city girl gets aggressive the second she’s questioned. If you ask me, this money is ill-gotten. My official ruling is that you refund the citizens.” At the Mayor’s words, the villagers’ eyes gleamed with pure greed. No one turns down free money. Brittany cheered, “The Mayor is a wise man! The money must be returned!” “Damn right! Thank God we have an educated college girl to keep us from being robbed blind!” “Exactly! They hold a monopoly on the whole county. Who knows how much they’ve stolen from us!” “Hey, I booked you last month! Based on city prices, you owe me $3,000 back!” My dad pointed a trembling finger at the last man who spoke. “You haven’t even paid your catering bill from last month! What gives you the right to demand a refund?!” The man rubbed his nose and sneered. “Well, I owed you $5,000. Now that you’re refunding me $3,000, I only owe you $2,000! You shamelessly try to rob us, you old cripple. It’s no wonder your wife ran away!” I snatched a thick wooden tent pole from the ground and aimed it at him. “Say that one more time, I dare you.” “I’ll say whatever I want, you city tramp! Dressing like a harlot every day, God knows how many men you’ve slept with!” These ungrateful parasites! Most of them couldn’t even afford a deposit before booking an event, so my dad fronted the cash for the ingredients. Some paid him back after opening wedding gifts. Some only paid half. Some never paid at all. And this is how they repay him? A pack of rabid wolves. I gripped the wooden pole, ready to swing, when suddenly someone wrenched it from my hands.

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After we graduated high school, Caleb sweet-talked me into his bed. After that, he was hooked, tangling up my life for seven whole years. Our friends always joked that he was my ultimate simp: “Just marry the guy already, he’d practically die for you.” That was, until I accidentally stumbled upon his secret alt account. Thousands of posts, overflowing with a sick, obsessive love. The girl in the pictures, delicate and pretty in a white dress. She was his untouchable first love—the one that got away. Only then did I realize that for seven years, he gave his body to me, but his heart always belonged to someone else. 1 The day I discovered Caleb’s secret account. It was a completely ordinary night. Caleb had just returned from a business trip. The moment he walked through the door, he couldn’t wait to carry me to bed. He always had a high drive, and after a week apart, he was incredibly impatient and rough. By the time it was all over, I was so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open. Ding—a short notification sound chimed. I watched as Caleb picked up his phone, his brows pulling together. As he threw on his jacket to head out, I grabbed his arm: “You’re going out this late?” Caleb looked back and coaxed me gently: “Something came up at the office. You go to sleep, don’t wait up for me.” Maybe it was a woman’s intuition. Half an hour after Caleb left, I was completely wide awake. I forced myself out of bed and called the night-shift security at his company: “Is everyone working late? I can order some late-night takeout for you guys.” “No need, Ms. Chloe. Mr. Caleb let everyone off early today. The office is empty.” “There’s no one at the company at all?” “No one. Is there something you need, ma’am?” “No, it’s fine.” After hanging up, I sat on the bed in a daze. Our condo was very close to his office. A ten-minute drive, max. But now, thirty minutes had passed, and Caleb wasn’t at the company. Where was he this late at night? 2 The next day, Caleb came back. He seemed to be in a fantastic mood, even humming a tune as he unlocked the door. He brought me my favorite artisan croissants. The bakery was a famous, century-old spot known for its amazing quality. The only downside was that it was across town and didn’t offer delivery. “Whatever my wife wants to eat, even if it’s the stars in the sky, I’d pluck them down and bake them into cookies for you.” I couldn’t help but laugh. I rubbed my forehead, thinking I had just been too paranoid lately. If I ever said Caleb didn’t love me, my friends would be the first to object: “Chloe, stop creating drama. Have you seen how Caleb acts? He couldn’t survive without you. “You’ve been together for seven years, and every time you fight, he’s the one begging on his knees for you to take him back. “Stop overthinking it. Just accept his proposal and marry him already.” My friends weren’t entirely wrong; Caleb was definitely the more proactive one in this relationship. But they were wrong about one thing: Caleb hadn’t proposed to me. Caleb always said: “Baby, I don’t want you to settle. I’ll propose properly once my career is completely stable.” I was young back then and didn’t want to be tied down by marriage either. We were on the same page, and just like that, our messy, undefined entanglement dragged on for seven years. During breakfast, Caleb was looking at his phone, a subconscious smile playing on his lips. “What are you looking at? You seem so happy.” Hearing my voice, his smile instantly faded: “Nothing, just a funny cat video.” “Let me see.” Caleb quickly locked his phone, walked over, and scooped me into his arms: “It’s nothing interesting.” His voice grew husky: “You’re much better to look at. Are you full? Because now it’s my turn to eat.” Right before he pressed me into the mattress, my eyes accidentally caught the screen of his phone. It was a red icon—a niche journaling app mostly used by women. Why would he have that on his phone? 3 Once the seed of doubt is planted, it inevitably sprouts. While Caleb was in the shower, I quickly grabbed his phone. I only had enough time to memorize the username: “Broken Star.” Early the next morning, I sat in the study. Using the profile picture and IP location, I cross-referenced and searched. An hour later, I finally locked onto the account. I clicked it open, revealing thousands of densely packed posts. It was like opening Pandora’s box. The overwhelming, obsessive infatuation hit me so hard it made my heart pound. [June 9, 2017: I slept with someone else, but I don’t regret it. You betrayed me first.] That year, Caleb stumbled into my room reeking of alcohol. He coaxed me out of my clothes and kept me awake the entire night. [September 1, 2018: I didn’t get into my dream Ivy League. Did you think you were my only option? You’re wrong.] On our first day of college, Caleb knelt holding a bouquet of flowers and confessed to me, saying he would take responsibility for that night. It turned out it was never about me. He was just rebounding because he didn’t get into his top-choice school. [August 7, 2021: You actually got married? I will never forgive you. You should rot in hell.] That night, Caleb drank heavily and was incredibly rough. He used toys and restraints; I cried for hours, and the next day I was in the hospital with a fever. [December 25, 2023: You got divorced. Will you finally look back at me now?] That day, Caleb—a guy who actively hated the holidays—actually put on a Santa hat and posted a selfie on Instagram. I couldn’t read anymore. With trembling hands, I scrolled straight to the bottom. The latest post was from a few days ago, the night he didn’t come home: [The unattainable obsession of our youth becomes the prison of our lifetime.] The photo attached showed a girl, delicate and pretty, wearing a white dress. I finally recognized her. Ashley. Caleb’s childhood sweetheart from next door. I sat completely frozen for a long time. My body turned ice-cold, shivering uncontrollably, before the devastating realization set in. It turned out that in this seven-year entanglement, his love never belonged to me for a single second. A youthful crush, years of unrequited love—anyone would shed a tear at such dedication. Their romance was an unstoppable, earth-shattering force. So, what the hell was I? 4 I took screenshots and recorded the screen, saving every piece of evidence. That night, when Caleb came home, he brought a bunch of new bedroom toys. He always had a wild appetite and a preference for gadgets. Keeping up with him was always exhausting. “Not tonight. It’s that time of the month.” Caleb froze for a second, then pressed his weight onto me: “Then just use your hands and legs, okay? I promise I’ll be gentle.” “No. I said no.” He tried to coax me a few more times, but I firmly rejected him. He was clearly annoyed, but he didn’t lash out. He brought me a heating pad and brewed some hot ginger tea: “Alright, baby, you rest up. I need to head back to the office to handle a few things.” A friend once joked with me: “Stop being so ungrateful. A guy only wants it that much because he loves you. He’s pushing thirty but acts like a horny teenager around you. “Unlike my guy, who sleeps like a dead log. The honeymoon phase passion is long gone.” I used to believe that too. Caleb was never stingy about showing his absolute obsession and desire for my body. But I forgot that for men, love and sex can be completely compartmentalized. I asked myself a simple question. If I were Caleb, would I treat the person I truly loved with such reckless aggression? Just like he wrote in his posts: [You are my pristine angel; I never dared to touch you. Just basking in your light was an honor.] Yet our first time was in a cheap motel, with scratchy sheets and an absolute, ruthless lack of restraint. It turns out, the difference between being loved and not being loved… Is truly staggering. 5 I secretly followed Caleb. I watched him walk into a boutique bakery. Ashley, wearing a white dress, came out to greet him. She looked thrilled, clinging to his arm and refusing to let go. Uncharacteristically, Caleb acted cold and pushed her away: “This bakery is yours now. Don’t contact me again.” Ashley didn’t seem to take him seriously and wrapped her arms around him again: “I don’t believe you. You could never bear to not see me.” As they pulled and tugged at each other, tears welled up in Ashley’s eyes. Finally, losing his patience, Caleb pinned her against the wall in the alleyway: “Don’t make yourself regret this.” Under the dim glow of the streetlamp, the two of them kissed passionately. Hiding in the shadows, I pulled out my phone and snapped several pictures. In my mind, Caleb always hated kissing on the lips. I stared at their intertwined silhouettes. So, it wasn’t that he hated kissing. It was just that I was the wrong person to kiss. It wasn’t that he was waiting for his career to stabilize before proposing. He was waiting for someone else to get a divorce. Just as Caleb was about to slip his hand under Ashley’s top, he stopped abruptly: “Go back inside. I’ll come see you tomorrow.” Ashley clung to him relentlessly: “Why? Rushing home to let that woman relieve your frustration?” “I won’t touch her when I get back.” “I don’t believe you. Who’s prettier, me or her?” Caleb went silent for a moment before saying: “You, of course. How could she even compare to you?” Ashley smiled, utterly satisfied. Caleb: “Do you have any slice cakes left in the display?” Ashley: “Yes, why do you ask?” Caleb: “I’ll take one.” At that exact moment, my phone buzzed. It was Caleb: [Wife, does your stomach still hurt? [I’m buying you a slice of cake. What flavor do you want?]

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My boyfriend told me he firmly believed in “bros before hoes.” He also told me he only had one ultimate, lifelong bro, named Riley. And that this bro didn’t live in our city. Because I was blinded by my boyfriend’s insanely good looks, I put up with it. After all, they just texted and played video games every night. But then, I found out that this “bro” he talked to day in and day out—was a girl. 01 When Carter Hayes told me “bros before hoes,” I looked at his face—which was as flawlessly sculpted as a Greek statue—and swallowed the words “let’s break up” right back down my throat. My name is Chloe Bennett. Like a lot of college girls, I have a massive weak spot for a pretty face. Whether my boyfriend actually had a working brain was, for me, a secondary requirement. Carter was a senior at my university. His dating history was completely blank, and his life’s only passion was soccer. He played real soccer with the varsity guys on the weekends, and played FIFA on his phone during the week. Aside from being a little too obsessed with the sport, he was virtually perfect. Until that dinner party. He told me ahead of time that Riley was coming down from their hometown to visit, and bringing their local soccer team for a friendly scrimmage with Carter’s team. Two full teams, plus “plus-ones,” made 34 people. We rented out the entire second floor of a popular sports bar near campus, taking up four huge tables. Unfortunately, my professor held me back after class that day, so I was almost an hour late. The second I walked upstairs, my eyes zeroed in on a stranger sitting right next to Carter. She was skinny, wearing an oversized black graphic tee, with a choppy, messy pixie cut. Other than her, the entire table was entirely unfamiliar guys playing loud drinking games. The girl, meanwhile, was holding a vape and aggressively playing a rapid-fire shot game with Carter. Any girl who dares to rock a haircut like that is usually stunning, and she was no exception. In other words, the moment I walked up, I saw a beautiful girl sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with my boyfriend. The chair on his other side was empty. I walked straight over and sat down. Carter’s eyes were entirely glued to the girl’s hands for the drinking game. He didn’t even notice I had arrived. “Hey! Little girl! What are you doing? That’s the missus’s seat!” the girl suddenly barked at me. I stood up instinctively. “Can’t you see all the food I saved for her?!” the girl motioned to a plate piled high with appetizers. Saving me food was the glorious result of me training my dense, oblivious boyfriend. Only then did Carter snap out of his trance and turn his head. The moment he saw me, a gentle, familiar smile bloomed across his gorgeous face. I immediately decided to let the girl’s attitude slide. “Who are you barking at, idiot? This is your bro’s girlfriend! Call her your sister!” Carter pulled me down into the seat, scolding the girl. Then he turned to me. “Chloe, this is my bro, Riley Walsh. She got kicked in the head by a donkey as a kid, just ignore her.” “You got kicked by a donkey, you absolute dog! Actually, no, you got kicked by a pig!” Riley cursed, reaching over and violently twisting Carter’s ear. “Ow! You dare twist your father’s ear? You ungrateful son!” Carter winced, verbally fighting back. Meanwhile, my mind was reeling. Riley was a girl??? I had heard Riley’s voice through Carter’s headset more than once. It was always a gruff, raspy male voice, completely different from the sweet, clear tone she was using right now. Because of that, I had never once doubted Riley’s gender. “Are you really Riley? The voice I heard before didn’t sound like this,” I blurted out. “Oh, you mean this voice?” Riley seamlessly switched to the exact deep, raspy male voice I remembered. “Your bro does voice acting, what do you think?” “Holy shit!” “That voice sounds manlier than I do!” Carter’s friends were instantly blown away by her party trick, clicking their tongues in awe. “…” I was speechless. It felt like I had just swallowed a dead fly. Suddenly, Riley stood up, walked behind my chair, and clapped her hands tightly over my eyes. “Don’t move! Hand over all your valuables!” She used the deep, raspy man voice again. Her hands were incredibly rough and heavy, pressing so hard I felt like my eyeballs were going to pop out. At that exact moment, I confirmed it: I had encountered the legendary, final-boss “Pick-Me” girl. I didn’t hold back. I flashed my freshly manicured, razor-sharp acrylic nails and dug them right into her hands, leaving a nice little souvenir. “Fuck! Man, you’ve got lethal weapons on you! Women just can’t take a joke!” Riley retracted her claws, switching back to her normal voice. “Does my bro like them wild now? You’re a lucky guy, Carter! Tell us about it!” Hearing this, the entire table of guys instantly perked up. “Carter doesn’t like them wild, he likes them wildin’ out!” “Yeah, this guy had a new girl around him every week back in high school!” “Keep your voice down! Look at his girlfriend’s face, she looks pissed!” … I finally realized this table was full of Carter’s high school buddies. “Knock it off, Chloe is shy. She’s not shameless like you animals,” Carter interrupted them with a grin. “Yeah, yeah!” Riley chimed in loudly. “We’ve got a ‘female dependent’ at the table now, watch your mouths, guys!” Saying that, she pointedly glanced at the next table over. I noticed a few unfamiliar girls looking our way. Their eyes were locked on Riley, and none of them looked friendly. Obviously, these were the other “female dependents” Riley was mocking. The guys, of course, were completely oblivious to this silent warfare. The topic was dropped, and they went right back to drinking and yelling. I was hungry, so I started eating the food Carter had saved for me. Riley started whispering to Carter, but at a volume where I could hear every single word. “Is she mad? Aren’t you gonna coax her?” Hearing this, Carter picked a chicken wing out of the leftovers on the table and put it on my plate, but kept his eyes entirely on Riley. “Chloe isn’t petty like that.” “I don’t believe it! Unless you ask her for permission to hang out right now!” Riley pushed relentlessly. “Watch me! Wanna bet?” Carter was instantly hooked. I was completely lost, but the phrase “ask for permission” created an atmosphere that aggressively excluded me, and it pissed me off. “I bet you fifty bucks!” Riley looked thrilled. “Pfft! You’re on!” Carter turned to me. “Chloe, tomorrow morning I’m taking these idiots to hike Echo Peak. I am officially requesting a hall pass! Please approve!” “…” My speechlessness was reaching astronomical levels. Carter had never, ever spoken to me like this before. But with thirty guys watching, I couldn’t embarrass him. So I asked, “Can I come with you guys?” “We’re not doing plus-ones this time!” Riley cleanly and decisively rejected me on Carter’s behalf. I looked at Carter. He actually looked conflicted. “Echo Peak is a pretty brutal hike. Chloe, are you sure you want to go? Why don’t you go shopping with Madison tomorrow?” he asked. Madison was a name I had heard a few times; she was another high school classmate and apparently the girlfriend of one of the guys at the table. “But I really want to go! I’ve never been to Echo Peak! Plus, I can run a half-marathon, I can definitely make it to the top!” I put on my most innocent, harmless expression. The advantage of a Pick-Me girl is her ability to blend in as “one of the boys,” but her fatal flaw is that she can never play the fragile, delicate card! Sure enough, the guys at the table started advocating for me. “Just let her come! Otherwise it’s gonna be boring with Riley as the only girl!” The guy who spoke wore glasses and had a face absolutely covered in severe cystic acne. If he wasn’t so tough to look at, I would have kissed him right then and there! Riley’s expression instantly darkened. Another guy with bleached blonde hair added, “Riley doesn’t count as a girl! She’s as flat as an ironing board front and back!” The whole table erupted into roaring laughter. Through the laughter, I caught Riley glaring daggers at me. “Of course we want you to come! Just make sure you wear sneakers, and oh, definitely don’t wear a skirt!” Riley put her loud, carefree mask back on, pretending to be thoughtfully advising me. … The next morning at 7:00 AM, everyone gathered at the base of Echo Peak. Riley showed up late. When I saw her, I almost coughed up blood—she was wearing a microscopic camouflage mini-skirt! So short it barely qualified as clothing! 02 When he saw her, Carter’s grip on my hand noticeably tightened. I looked at him and realized he looked genuinely angry. “Did you leave your brain at the hotel, you idiot?!” He stormed over, ripped off his own oversized windbreaker, and aggressively wrapped it around Riley’s waist. “I spilled milk on my pants at breakfast! I only packed one pair of pants and one skirt! What was I supposed to do, ghost you guys?!” Riley said pitifully. She pulled his jacket on and zipped it all the way up. The visual effect was even weirder now. Carter’s massive jacket looked like a dress on her, making it look like she wasn’t wearing pants at all! I was frozen in shock. Carter had wrapped his jacket around her so naturally, and she accepted it so intimately. Standing together, they looked like a perfectly harmonious couple. And I looked like a clown. I stood completely still. The acne-covered guy spoke up. “Riley, you had thirty minutes to be late, but you didn’t have time to buy a new pair of pants?” “Tyler Vance! You just can’t stand me, can you? You’re mad because you suck and you’re permanently benched, so you pick fights with me all day!” Riley easily deflected the topic. So the acne guy’s name was Tyler Vance. Hearing this, his face flushed bright red. “So what if I’m a sub? You’re good, so you start, that’s fine. I’m talking about you showing up late!” I already knew Riley was their team’s starting goalie, and Tyler, apparently, was the backup. A skinny girl like that as a men’s goalie? And she was actually good??? Riley ignored him and waved her hand. “Alright, stop acting like my mom!” The blonde guy chimed in, “Let’s just go. Stop arguing, or we’ll miss the Halo Cloud.” The group finally started hiking up the stone steps. Carter and Riley fell to the very back of the pack. I waited for him to walk up and reached out my hand. He grabbed it. I secretly picked up my pace, pulling us away from Riley. “Trying to show off, huh? Don’t burn yourself out and ask me to carry you later!” Carter’s competitive side was triggered. He sped up, stubbornly staying one half-step ahead of me. “I won’t!” I walked even faster. Riley was left behind, all by herself. The “Halo Cloud” was the major attraction at Echo Peak. Every afternoon around 3:00 PM, a perfect, swirling ring of clouds formed over the summit. People romanticized it as a flock of magical birds forming a bridge. Personally, I had zero interest in hiking a mountain to see something I could just look at on Instagram. The only reason I dragged out my hiking boots and athletic gear was pure, unadulterated territorial panic. When we were halfway up the mountain, a sharp “Ouch!” echoed from about fifty yards behind us. Without a doubt, Riley was acting up again. Carter immediately tried to turn around. I grabbed his arm. “Don’t look back!” “Stop messing around!” Carter tapped my nose affectionately, but then turned and sprinted down the stairs without a second thought. I stood frozen in place, so angry I felt like I was losing my mind. Five minutes later, Carter came trudging up the stairs, panting heavily, with Riley on his back. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to kick them both down the mountain. Carter’s hands were gripping the backs of Riley’s bare, pale thighs. “What happened to her?” I avoided looking at that glaring expanse of skin and asked Carter directly. “Sprained my ankle,” Riley answered for him. “Chloe, I gotta borrow your boyfriend for a bit! You don’t mind, right?” “…” I was about to explode, but right then, Tyler came jogging down the stairs. “What are you guys doing? We were resting up ahead, did a headcount, and realized we were missing three people!” he yelled. When he got closer, he immediately saw Riley on Carter’s back. “What happened to you? You have a stroke?” “Tyler, if you don’t know how to speak, shut up. I sprained my ankle. You happy now? You finally get to get off the bench!” Riley sneered. “I’m not exactly celebrating, but what’s the deal with you riding on another girl’s boyfriend?” Tyler glanced at me. “I sprained my ankle! Are you deaf?! If he doesn’t carry me, are you gonna do it?!” Riley snapped aggressively. “We’re only halfway up. You expect Carter to carry you to the summit?” Tyler asked the exact question I wanted to ask. “It’s fine, this idiot is light as a piece of paper!” Carter said, trying to act macho. “Put me down for a sec! I think Chloe looks a little mad!” Riley whispered right next to Carter’s ear, but at a volume where all of us could hear it clearly. Carter obediently set her down. “Chloe, you aren’t actually mad, are you? Listen, I’ve known Carter for almost twenty years. If we were gonna happen, you wouldn’t even be in the picture! We’re pure bros. Ride or die!” Riley slapped my shoulder hard. “Carter always told me you were super chill! Don’t be so petty!” She hit me hard. I was balancing on the edge of a stone step. My center of gravity shifted, and I instantly tumbled backward. Thankfully, Tyler had fast reflexes and caught me by the arm. Still, I twisted my left ankle awkwardly. “Are you okay?!” Carter rushed toward me. “I’m fine.” I waved him off, sitting down on a step to check my left ankle. “Fuck! I didn’t mean to do that! Chloe, don’t twist this into something else! It was an accident!” Riley hopped over on one foot. “I’ll carry you down,” Carter said, reaching out to pull me up. “What about me?!” Riley was instantly unhappy. “I came all this way to see the Halo Cloud!” “Uh…” Carter hesitated. He was fucking hesitating?! I was so furious I thought I might spontaneously combust. “It’s fine, I can walk.” I stood up. “I haven’t seen the Halo Cloud either!” “Tyler, you’re strong. Why don’t you carry Chloe?” Riley suddenly suggested. “Did you really leave your brain at home today?!” Carter whipped his head around and roared at Riley. “Then what do you suggest we do?!” Riley screamed right back at him. Carter went silent. He was actually considering Riley’s suggestion?! “Can you carry me? Wanna try?” I held my hand out to Tyler. This guy had been sneaking glances at me since dinner. I knew he wouldn’t reject me. I don’t normally use people’s crushes to my advantage, but I was forced into a corner. I would just have to buy him dinner to apologize later! Tyler paused, then turned around and easily hoisted me onto his back. “Wow, you’re really light,” he commented. Without another word, he started marching up the stone steps. Behind us, there was dead silence. 03 Carter’s explosive roar finally echoed about fifteen seconds later, by which point Tyler had carried me up at least twenty steps. Tyler’s hands weren’t touching my legs; he was awkwardly but respectfully hooking his wrists beneath my knees. His careful, gentlemanly posture—compared to Carter’s hands completely clamped onto Riley’s bare thighs—made a wave of intense sadness wash over me. Carter’s voice cracked from yelling so loud. “Tyler, what the fuck are you doing?! I thought we were bros!” Tyler turned his head and said evenly, “Carter, isn’t this a massive double standard? You can carry other girls, but your girlfriend can’t be carried by someone else?” Carter and Riley were still standing at the bottom. Carter’s face was beet red. “Riley is different! I don’t treat her like a girl!” I realized for the first time that when Carter was angry, his face didn’t look like a statue at all. It was ugly. Hideous, even. Tyler had suddenly become my ultimate spokesperson: “Whether she’s a girl or not is an objective fact. It doesn’t change just because you say so. You have a girlfriend. Shouldn’t you consciously keep your distance from other girls?” Carter was completely speechless, but Riley suddenly cursed, “Tyler, you bastard! You just have to oppose me at every turn, don’t you? You’re just doing this because I rejected you! A guy as petty as you deserves to have a ruined, deformed face!” The moment she said that, I felt Tyler’s entire body flinch. He instantly went dead silent. So Riley was telling the truth? Tyler didn’t have a crush on me… he was lashing out because he got rejected by Riley?! I felt incredibly awkward and struggled a bit. Tyler gently set me down. But wait, what did “ruined, deformed face” mean? “What did you say?” Carter was clearly out of the loop. He looked at Tyler in shock. “Since when did you go after Riley?” “I never went after her! I hate loud, obnoxious girls like her!” Tyler frowned at Riley. “I’m not like Carter, I’m not that stupid. Your little tricks don’t work on me!” “If you say you didn’t, then you didn’t!” Riley sneered, rolling her eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck in her head. I felt suspicious again. This was a classic smear tactic. If a pretty girl falsely claims an ugly guy pursued her, the guy has absolutely zero way to defend himself. Society will always believe her. So, knowing Riley’s toxic personality, I started believing Tyler again. Wait a second! Riley was simultaneously claiming Tyler chased her, while practically wrapping herself around Carter. What kind of twisted psychological game was this? Carter wouldn’t let it go. “Now that I think about it, you two were acting shady for a while! Wow, Tyler, you animal! You wouldn’t even spare your own bro!” Tyler looked at me for some reason. He opened his mouth, but didn’t say a word. “This is so fucking lame! I don’t want to hike anymore!” Riley looked at Carter. “I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself. Carry your bro down the mountain!” Carter stole a glance at me. Seeing I wasn’t speaking, he cleared his throat. “Chloe, um… why don’t you wait for me here? Tyler, do me a favor and stay with Chloe for a bit!” Tyler countered, “What, aren’t you afraid I’ll run off with your precious Chloe?” Carter punched him lightly on the shoulder. “We’re bros, what kind of nonsense is that?” Riley chimed in with a sarcastic drawl, “Tyler! Do you not own a mirror? Chloe is gorgeous. Even if she was blind, she wouldn’t settle for you!” Carter hurriedly covered Riley’s mouth. “Can you shut the fuck up for one second? We’re all friends here, do you have to stab people where it hurts?” Riley let him cover her mouth, rolled her eyes, and stayed quiet. I looked at Tyler. His expression barely shifted. Maybe guys really didn’t care about insults to their appearance as much as girls did? “It’s settled then! Thanks, bro! I’ll take Riley back to the hotel and come right back to find you guys! I’ll run fast, I won’t let my baby miss the Halo Cloud! Okay?” Carter promised. Okay my ass. I felt like I couldn’t control my tears anymore, but crying in front of a Pick-Me girl was too humiliating. Right now, I just wanted these two out of my sight as fast as possible. I turned my back to them and replied, “Okay.” I was certain even an idiot could tell how furious I was, but Carter somehow didn’t. There was some rustling behind me. Obviously, Carter was putting Riley back on his back. Faintly, I heard him say, “Hold on tight.” And I stood there like an ostrich, too afraid to turn around and look. My heart was filled with more shock than sadness. I had dated this guy for over two years, and only today did I realize what an absolute moron he was. Was this man even worth keeping? My chest felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I could barely breathe. “They’re gone,” Tyler said softly. Only then did I turn around. They were completely out of sight. Instead, a couple of strangers were walking up the stairs toward us, holding hands. They raised their joined hands over my head, passing by with soft giggles and whispers. That was how you were supposed to climb Echo Peak. My eyes got blurry again. “Do you still want to hike?” Tyler asked me. “Did you really try to get with Riley?” I wiped my tears and asked him instead. “No. She pursued me. I rejected her.” Tyler sighed. “She probably felt humiliated, which is why she’s been targeting me lately.” “She chased you?! Do you… have proof?” This was too bizarre, I couldn’t believe it. “Proof… do her DMs count?” Tyler scratched his head. “Yes!” I nodded vigorously. And so, I looked at Tyler and Riley’s chat history: Riley: “You up? Bro’s buying you noodles!” (Riley initiated a voice call) Tyler: “Saturday is my only day to sleep in. Ask Jackson to go with you. I don’t eat breakfast on Saturdays, please don’t ask me again, thanks.” Riley: “Idiot! If you skip breakfast you’ll get gallstones!” (Tyler didn’t reply) (Three hours later) Riley: “What are you doing? Bro will carry your rank in League!” Tyler: “Busy. Next time. Thanks.” … I scrolled up. Starting a year ago, besides a mandatory ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’, Riley sent him a dozen messages like this every single day. This went on for three months. Asking to eat, game, play soccer, study, even get haircuts together! Tyler rarely replied. When he did, he was ice cold. Out of 20 invites, he maybe showed up once, and only when the whole team was there. “Um…” I hesitated before asking, “Are you like, a secret billionaire heir or something?” For Riley to chase him this desperately, considering his… physical appearance… that was the only logical conclusion. “Just a normal family. My dad owns a small company.” Tyler blushed. “Honestly, I shouldn’t be showing you another girl’s private messages. It’s messed up. But to prove my innocence, I had to.” I stared at him. Even though his face was a disaster, his eyes were incredibly clear and earnest. Tyler was so genuine, he felt like a rare, endangered species! And he definitely liked me! Otherwise, why would he care about proving his innocence?! But no matter how genuine he was, it couldn’t hide his heavy, bulky frame and the severe acne covering his face! I cursed myself for being such a superficial monster. “You should expose her! She was clearly the one chasing you!” I faked righteous indignation to hide my shallow thoughts. “Forget it. She’s a girl, she has her pride. Plus, she never actually said the words ‘I like you,’ she just constantly bothered me,” Tyler said. I rolled my eyes internally. A girl like that would never explicitly confess! She manipulates you until you confess! But I couldn’t tell Tyler that, or I’d sound like I was stirring up drama. “Don’t look at me like that. Honestly, I used to be… not this ugly.” Tyler must have noticed the slight judgment in my eyes. His voice dropped as he opened his photo album to show me. “Look. I only started gaining all this weight a few months ago.” Tyler flipped through the album. “That’s YOU?!” I shrieked. In the photo, an incredibly hot guy was showing off shredded six-pack abs. Angel face, devil body. I looked closely—the facial structure was exactly the same, just much leaner. And in the photo, his skin was flawless. Not a single blemish.

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I spent a decade bullying the Vance family’s heir, relying entirely on our childhood sweetheart status. Who could have predicted that the very day after he went abroad, I’d be exposed as a fake heiress and kicked out of my home overnight? Later, at the true heiress’s birthday banquet, the newly returned Carter Vance confessed his love on the spot. The surrounding crowd was moved to tears. But the very next second— “Wait, who the hell are you?! Where is Chloe?!” Thanks for asking. I’m currently busy selling corn dogs at the night market. 01 When Carter found me, the night market was at its absolute peak. The streets of the old downtown district were packed with people, bustling with noise, and thick with the smoky scent of street food. He was wearing a custom-tailored three-piece suit, a pair of thin-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. As a wealthy heir pampered since birth, every single strand of his hair was styled to perfection. He looked completely and utterly out of place in this gritty night market. “Chloe?” He stared at me in sheer disbelief. I glanced up at him, not surprised in the slightest. “Oh, you’re back?” Then, I lowered my head and expertly flipped a sizzling corn dog on the grill. “I’m a bit swamped right now. No time to catch up. Just give me a minute.” Hearing this, he instinctively frowned, then raised his voice. “Chloe!” I didn’t even look up. “Corn dogs are three dollars for one, five dollars for two. How many do you want?” Silence hung in the air for two seconds before he choked out a single sentence: “…Two.” “You got it.” Two minutes later, the two of us were squatting behind my food cart, eating corn dogs. The pampered young heir had probably never eaten anything this cheap in his life. After one bite, his brows knitted together in disgust, but when he met my gaze, he obediently swallowed it down. He looked like a pathetic, kicked puppy. Meanwhile, I scarfed down my corn dog in three bites and turned around to get back to the grind— “Chloe,” he called out to me again. I turned to look at him. “What?” He stared at me earnestly. “I went to your house to find you. You weren’t there.” “Oh, right, I haven’t had the chance to tell you. I left the Sterling family.” I thought for a moment, then asked, “Did you see Riley?” “Yeah.” “Is she pretty?” Carter frowned slightly. The gentlemanly upbringing he’d received since childhood prevented him from insulting a girl, so he simply mumbled, “She’s alright, I guess.” After a pause, he added, “But she’s not as pretty as you.” I nodded. “Alright, keep this in mind. She is the true heiress of the Sterling family. She’s the one who was supposed to grow up with you. She had a really hard life all these years and finally made it back home. You need to treat her well.” At the very least, don’t make an enemy out of her because of me. That way, you won’t end up with that tragic ending again. With that said, I turned to leave— But I couldn’t move. I sighed in exasperation. “What is it now, Your Highness?” “You said that if I came back, you’d agree to be my girlfriend.” Carter gripped my arm tightly and blinked. His eyes instantly turned red, looking exactly like a wronged golden retriever. “Does that still count?” Only then did I remember. Back when Carter was refusing to study abroad, I might have promised him a few things just to coax him onto the plane. Carter and I were childhood sweethearts. Relying on that status, I had bullied him for over a decade. He was the dignified heir of the Vance family, sitting at the absolute pinnacle of high society, yet he always followed my every command. Back then, I treated Carter like he belonged to me. But who could have imagined that in just two short years, the gap between us would become as vast as the sky and the dirt? But… this was an ending I had anticipated a long time ago. “It doesn’t count anymore.” I reached out and gently pried his fingers off my arm. Meeting a gaze that looked like he was about to burst into tears at any second, I lowered my eyes. “Carter, we aren’t equals anymore.” So, in this life, you need to live well. 02 In my previous life, my ending was incredibly tragic. From the day Riley returned to the Sterling family, I became obsessed with making her life miserable. Relying on my status as the Vance family heir’s childhood sweetheart, I did everything in my power to sabotage her. In the end, everyone turned their backs on me. The Sterling family, having finally reached their breaking point, joined forces and threw me into a psychiatric hospital. Riley, on the other hand, went from an innocent little flower to the beloved darling of the Sterling family. Later, she voluntarily broke off her engagement with Carter and slapped everyone in the face by marrying his shrewd, capable uncle. She ended up having triplets in one pregnancy and became the absolute treasure of the Vance family’s true patriarch. Riley and I were like two sides of a mirror in a trashy billionaire romance novel. One fell from grace to total abandonment; the other rose from the ashes to ultimate glory. It was as if we were just blindly following a script. From beginning to end, only Carter stood firmly by my side. He defied his engagement for me. He publicly went to war with the elders in his family multiple times and treated his actual fiancée, Riley, with nothing but cold disdain. Because of that, his position as the heir was snatched away. He went from the golden boy of the Vance family to an outcast. Eventually, on the day I was dragged off to the asylum, he died in a horrific car crash while trying to save me. He could have had a wonderful life. Carefree, wealthy, and perfectly happy. If it hadn’t been for me… So, when I was reborn, I didn’t hesitate to persuade Carter to study abroad. And on the day I was exposed as the fake heiress, I didn’t fall to my knees and beg the Sterlings to let me stay. Instead, I took my severance check, packed my bags, and left cleanly. This time, I didn’t want Carter to see any of my misery or humiliation. I would rather remain in his memories as the bright, arrogant Chloe he grew up with—his proud childhood sweetheart. 03 I changed into my uniform and stepped out of the locker room. My part-time job tonight was as a bottle service waitress at a high-end private club. In the past, as the eldest daughter of the Sterling family, I used to frequent this place with other rich kids. But this was my first time being here as the help. The manager sent me to deliver drinks to a VIP room. The moment I pushed the door open, the first person I saw was Riley. Just like in my past life, she sat in the center of the crowd, wearing a pristine white dress, surrounded by admirers. According to the timeline, she had fully adapted to high society by now. Relying on her innocent and kind personality, she had won the approval of the Sterling family and was their undisputed little princess. Sitting next to her was a crowd of familiar faces—all my former wealthy playmates. I frowned slightly, kept my head down, and walked in. I originally just wanted to drop off the liquor and slip out unnoticed because I had much more important things to do tonight. But as I turned around, someone recognized me. “Chloe?” The guy who spoke happened to be holding the microphone. As his voice echoed, the entire room fell dead silent. Everyone’s eyes locked onto me. “It really is you!” The guy chuckled, as if he had just found a hilarious new toy. “When did our great Miss Sterling become so pathetic?” The moment he said that, laughter erupted across the room. “Figures. A fake is still a fake.” “Hilarious. I can’t believe she actually fell this hard.” The rich kid who spoke first, Chase, leaned in close to Riley and sneered. “See, Riley? I told you Chloe was inferior to you in every way.” “Carter only plays nice with her because they grew up together. Don’t worry, give it some time, and he’ll naturally fall for you.” Riley glanced in my direction and spoke in a timid, soft voice. “But… I think Carter still likes her more.” Hearing that, I instantly understood. Chase was doing this on purpose. Because at the birthday banquet two days ago, Carter had confessed his love on the spot before realizing he had the wrong girl. It made Riley a laughingstock in their social circles. So, to get on Riley’s good side, these people were purposely kicking me while I was down. How childish, I mocked internally, though my gaze shifted to a girl sitting in the crowd. My former best friend, Mia. In my past life, her family went bankrupt right before I was exposed as a fake heiress. They sold all their real estate just to barely cover their debts and had to move to a different city. Later, even after the true heiress scandal broke, I was allowed to stay with the Sterlings, though my allowance was slashed in half. Even then, I gave half of that money to Mia to help her family survive their darkest days. Because she was my one and only best friend. In this life, her family’s company unexpectedly received a massive injection of capital. Not only did they avoid bankruptcy, but over the last two years, their assets had skyrocketed, nearly matching the Sterlings. Yet, meeting my gaze now, she guiltily shrank back into the sofa, avoiding my eyes. In the end, she didn’t speak up to defend me. My expectation slowly turned into sheer disappointment. I opened my mouth, wanting to ask her, Why? But I found that the words just wouldn’t come out. “Chloe, are you okay?” Seeing my silence, Riley took the initiative to walk over. “I’m so sorry, everyone didn’t mean to laugh at you.” She looked like the perfect, considerate little flower. Logically, this was the part where I was supposed to feel “humiliated,” drop the drinks, and storm out— “Hey, hey, hey, where do you think you’re going? Is this how the club trains its staff? Get over here and pour my drink!” Chase yelled, looking incredibly smug as he actively picked a fight. “Maybe if I’m in a good mood, I’ll toss you a couple thousand in tips.” “Chloe, life must be pretty hard since you left the Sterlings, huh?” When I didn’t reply, his eyes rolled, and he took it a step further. “Perfect timing. My bed has been a little cold lately.” “You’ve got a decent face and a killer body. Why don’t you just follow me…” As his words grew increasingly vulgar, the rest of the room put on faces eager for a good show. Only Riley frowned slightly. Just as she was about to speak— BANG. The VIP door was kicked open. Carter, who had arrived late, stood in the doorway with a face like thunder. Under everyone’s stunned gazes, he stormed into the room. He stopped dead in front of Chase, his eyes sharp as daggers. Gritting his teeth, he asked, word by word, “Who exactly did you just say had a ‘decent face’?” For a split second, the room was terrifyingly quiet. Even I was a little surprised. Carter liked peace and quiet. Unless he was following me around, he rarely set foot in places like this. “C-Carter, bro…” Chase hadn’t expected Carter to show up. His legs instantly turned to jelly. “I-I was just joking…” In front of Carter, he didn’t dare act tough. “Oh?” Carter tilted his head, his face completely devoid of emotion. “Who gave you the nerve to joke with her?” At that moment, another wealthy heir who used to be close with Carter stepped up to smooth things over. “Come on, Carter, we all know you and Chloe used to be close, but she’s not one of us anymore. We all grew up together, there’s no need to ruin the vibe over her…” Before he could finish, Carter cut him off. “Oh, so you do remember we all grew up together?” He glared at the guy, then swept his icy gaze across the varying expressions in the room. “What exactly did she do wrong? Did she ask to be switched at birth? Did she ever do a single thing to wrong any of you?” “The girl I held on a pedestal like a princess—this is how you treat her?!” He scowled furiously. “Are all of you out of your damn minds?” 04 Honestly, it wasn’t just Carter. Even having lived two lives, I still couldn’t understand it. Why did the playmates I grew up with instantly kick me while I was down the second they learned my true identity? Why did the best friend who swore we’d be sisters for life refuse to say a single word for me when I hit rock bottom? It felt as if the world operated on a pre-written code. More than a decade of affection and loyalty vanished into thin air the exact moment the “fake heiress” label was slapped onto me. From beginning to end, only Carter stood firmly by my side. So, the more he did, the less I wanted him dragged into this mess. But Carter was like a husky off its leash—completely uncontrollable. The rest of the room was too stunned by his screaming to react. The next second, Carter, whose aura had just been ten feet tall, turned to face me and instantly deflated. “Don’t be scared, I wasn’t yelling at you.” He thought for a second, then added, “I know swearing is bad. It’s a character flaw of mine. Don’t learn from me.” Catching the complex, bewildered looks the others were shooting me, my mouth twitched. I quickly grabbed Carter by the arm and dragged him out of the room. “Hey, I wasn’t finished! How could they treat you like that…” “Shut up.” It wasn’t until we reached the emergency stairwell that I finally turned to look at him. “Why are you here?” “To find you, obviously,” he said, looking completely innocent. “Didn’t I tell you we aren’t equals anymore? You don’t need to follow me around…” “Chloe,” he interrupted me. Looking at me with dead-serious eyes, he asked, “So, for the past two years, while I was gone… is this the kind of life you’ve been living?” Hearing that, I fell silent. “Chloe, I regret it. I shouldn’t have listened to you and gone abroad.” His eyes were filled with so much heartache it made me dizzy. It reminded me of my past life. Back then, he had looked at me the exact same way and whispered, “Chloe, my heart breaks for you.” If there was anyone in this world who would love me unconditionally and without reservation… It could only be Carter. Taking a deep breath, I said softly, “Carter, just give me a little more time.” I will work hard to stand by your side once again.

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