My mother-in-law was dangling from the rooftop of a 28-story building. My wife, Seraphina, the best sharpshooter on the force, had a hundred percent chance of taking out the kidnapper with a single shot. But the new intern, Hunter, looked at her with pleading eyes. He said it was his first time facing a life-or-death situation and he wanted to find the courage to take the shot. Seraphina handed him her rifle. The shot rang out. The bullet went wide. The rope snapped. My mother-in-law’s body plummeted, hitting the pavement with a sickening, final thud. Seraphina wrapped her arms around Hunter, comforting him softly. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have let you.” She didn’t even glance down at the street below. Only after she had calmed Hunter down did she finally walk over to me. “Liam, honey, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save your mom.” I froze. My mom? But my mom was at home right now, cooking my favorite soup, waiting for me to come home. 1. Behind the police tape, I stared at the crimson stain on the asphalt, my mind a complete blank. Only after she had thoroughly soothed Hunter did Seraphina finally remember I was there. “Liam, honey, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save your mom.” There was no grief in her voice, no pain in her eyes. Only a hollow sense of duty, and a palpable wave of relief. I remained rooted to the spot. My mom? My mom should be at home right now, wearing her apron, simmering the fish-head and tofu soup I loved, waiting for me to get back from work. That warm, comforting image clashed with the cold, bloody scene before me in the most grotesque way imaginable. Hunter peeked out from Seraphina’s embrace, looking at me with timid eyes. “Liam… don’t blame the Captain. It’s all my fault… I was just so desperate to prove myself…” Before he could finish, Seraphina pulled him back, her voice sharp. “This has nothing to do with you! It was my decision!” She turned to me, her tone hardening into something cold and brittle. “The kidnapper was a maniac. Even if Hunter hadn’t hit the rope, your mother was probably a goner anyway. She’s gone. Can you please not make a scene?” I finally understood. She thought the person who had died was my mother. And she naturally assumed I would throw a fit, that I would take my anger out on her precious intern. An arctic chill shot up from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head. I looked at this woman I had loved for five years, the woman I shared a bed with. “Seraphina, that was your mother! She was the closest person you had in the world!” I thought I had made myself perfectly clear, but she obviously didn’t grasp the meaning of my words. Her colleagues around us cast sympathetic glances my way. Clearly, they all thought the same thing she did. Seraphina’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “Liam, stop with the spoiled tantrums. I told you, this is not Hunter’s fault.” She reached out to take my hand. The same hand that had held a sniper rifle steady on a hundred training fields, the same hand that had gently straightened my tie. Right now, it just felt filthy. With every ounce of strength I had, I wrenched my hand away. 2. I went to the morgue alone. Lifting the thin white sheet, I looked at my mother-in-law’s face, now an unrecognizable ruin from the fall. The tears I had been holding back finally broke free, streaming down my face. After my own parents, she was the kindest person to me in the world. When Seraphina was away on long training assignments, she would come over to keep me company and help tidy the apartment. She remembered all my favorite dishes and would cook them for me, always trying new recipes. Just last week, she had held my hand, chattering away. “Liam, after Sera’s next mission is over and she has some time off, I’m going to knit you two a matching set of sweaters.” Her voice, her smile, they were still so vivid in my mind. Now, she was just a cold body on a steel table. The morgue door swung open. Seraphina walked in, with Hunter in tow. Her voice was glacial. “Liam, if you’re done looking, let’s go. Staring won’t bring your mother back to life.” Hunter offered me a tissue with a theatrical sniffle, his voice thick with fake emotion. “Liam, I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s my fault for being so eager… If it wasn’t for me, your mom wouldn’t have…” My hand flew up, and with all my strength, I struck him. The sound of the slap echoed crisply in the cold room. SMACK! Hunter staggered back, clutching his cheek, a look of disbelief on his face. Seraphina exploded. She shoved me hard, shielding Hunter with her body. “Liam, are you insane?! Hunter feels guilty enough as it is! What more do you want?!” The push sent me stumbling backward. My head slammed against the cold, tiled wall. A sharp pain lanced through my skull, followed by the warm trickle of liquid. I touched the back of my head and my fingers came away sticky with blood. I pointed a trembling finger at the shrouded gurney. “Seraphina, are you even human?!” I screamed, my voice raw. “That woman raised you! She gave you everything for decades!” Seraphina’s protective stance wavered for a fraction of a second. But a small cough from Hunter snapped her back to attention. “What are you talking about? It was your mother who died. She raised you. What does that have to do with me? You’re so desperate to frame Hunter that you’d curse my own mother to death? You’re being completely irrational.” My heart turned to ash. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Fine, Seraphina. If I’m so irrational, then there’s no reason for us to be together anymore. Let’s get a divorce.” 3. Hunter burst into tears, his whole body trembling. “Liam, I know you hate me! But you can’t use divorce to force the Captain to punish me! Sob… I really didn’t mean to hit the rope!” Seraphina’s chest heaved with fury. She looked at me as if I were a vile criminal. She pulled Hunter into her arms, gently wiping away his tears. When she looked back at me, her face was a mask of impatience and disgust. “Liam, how long are you going to keep this up?” “Hunter is just a rookie. Even if he made a mistake, it’s understandable. Are you threatening me with divorce just to ruin his career?” “Your mother is dead. I understand you’re grieving. But you can’t drag everyone down into your hell with you!” “You know my mother adored you, always treated you like her own son. You’re making this scene because you know she’ll tear into me to defend you, right? To get your revenge?” Watching her so righteously defend another man, I suddenly felt like I was watching a bizarre, tragic play. The girl who once beat up a street punk for shoving me was gone forever. From behind her, Hunter’s face emerged. A flicker of triumph flashed in his red-rimmed eyes before he resumed his innocent, wounded expression. “Captain, don’t blame Liam. It’s all my fault… Why don’t you just send me to a disciplinary hearing? As long as it makes Liam feel better, I don’t mind suffering…” He sobbed as if he were the most wronged person on earth. Seraphina patted his back comfortingly. When she turned back to me, her face held nothing but icy contempt. “That’s enough. Get out of here, Liam. If you harass Hunter again, don’t blame me for what happens next.” With that, she took Hunter’s hand and walked out without a backward glance. 4. The next day, Seraphina tossed a thick stack of cash onto the table in front of me. “Liam, you’ve been making a fuss for this long, isn’t this what you wanted? Some compensation from Hunter? I’ve already taken care of your mother’s body.” I stared at the money, not moving. Seraphina thought I was unhappy with the amount. She frowned, explaining in a tone dripping with condescension. “I pulled some strings and sold her body on the black market. To a wealthy man who just died, for a… pairing. Fifty thousand. It was the best price I could get.” “At least this way, your mother can enjoy some luxury in the afterlife. Consider it your final act of filial piety.” I lifted my head and stared at her. “Seraphina, what did you say? You sold Mom?” My steady gaze made her uncomfortable. Her voice rose. “What else was I supposed to do? Leaving her in the morgue costs money every day. She was just a retired teacher, never made much in her life. Now her death has earned you fifty thousand dollars. At least she didn’t die for nothing.” Hunter chimed in at the perfect moment. “He’s right, Liam. The Captain did it for your own good. Besides, a arrangement like this is a fine final resting place. It’s better than her being all alone down there.” A metallic taste filled my mouth. I nearly choked on my own rage. My mother-in-law was a celebrated professor at a major university. Her students were everywhere. She was a kind soul who never troubled anyone and loved me like her own son. To think that after her death, her own daughter would sell her body into such a grotesque arrangement. I pushed the stack of money back towards her. “I have no use for this.” Seraphina still thought I was holding out for more. “Liam, your mother was just a teacher. Fifty grand for her life is a good deal. You should be grateful!” I shook my head, speaking each word with chilling clarity. “You’re mistaken, Seraphina. What I mean is, this is the money from selling your mother. You should be the one to collect it.” Seraphina’s face darkened instantly. She grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. “Liam, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you so desperate for more money that you’d wish my own mother dead?” Hunter’s eyes welled up again as he rushed to intervene. “Liam, please don’t be like this. The Captain is just trying to help. You can’t say things like that about her mom…” I tore my arm from Seraphina’s grasp, my voice eerily calm. “Seraphina, I’m giving you one last piece of advice. Go and get Mom’s body back. She always valued her dignity. And she loved you more than anything.” My words were the final spark. Seraphina erupted. She snatched the money and hurled it at my face. “You’re insane! My mom is perfectly fine on vacation abroad! I just checked her phone’s location yesterday. It was at the airport! You can stop this crazy act! As for your mother, getting you this fifty thousand is the most valuable thing she’s ever done!” “And another thing! You want a divorce? Fine! I’ll give you one!” She pointed a finger at my nose, her eyes filled with malice. “But I’ll be the one writing the terms. And I’m going to make you understand what happens when you piss me off!” With that, she grabbed the still-sobbing Hunter and slammed the door behind them. 5. To protect Seraphina’s “ace” reputation and the department’s public image, the higher-ups quickly classified the catastrophic failure as a “rescue accident.” And Seraphina, to shield Hunter, took full responsibility. She even held a press conference. On screen, Seraphina looked gaunt, with dark circles under her eyes. She offered a “sincere” apology to the countless cameras. But every word she spoke was a defense of Hunter. “…As an intern, Officer Hunter’s willingness to step up in such a critical moment, his courage in offering to take the shot himself, is truly commendable.” “Though the result was tragic, there is honor in his attempt.” Hunter, dressed in somber clothes, wept uncontrollably for the cameras. He recounted again and again how his “operational error” and “lack of mental fortitude” led to the tragedy, professing that he would be “haunted by regret for the rest of his life.” His masterful performance quickly won the public’s sympathy. One reporter asked a pointed question. “Captain Seraphina, why is your husband, Mr. Liam, not present at today’s press conference?” A shadow of sorrow and exhaustion flickered across Seraphina’s face at the perfect moment.

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1 My mother was kidnapped. The deranged kidnapper was live-streaming an auction for the couture silk gown she was wearing, a piece worth millions. I frantically called my husband, the CEO, but his voice dripped with sarcasm. “First, you have my sister faking a heart attack. Now, you’re staging your own mother’s kidnapping.” “Fine. Let’s see what happens. Let’s see if she gets stripped naked in front of the entire world when you have no money to save her.” His little canary coughed softly in the background, and he hung up on me without another word. But I never got to tell him: “The one who was kidnapped… it’s your mother.” The call came from the police. My mother-in-law had been taken. Seven months pregnant, I rushed to the station just as the kidnapper started his live stream. The moment I saw the elegant, custom-made silk gown, I knew. The woman on the screen was my husband’s mother, Eleanor. The kidnapper, his face hidden by a mask, stared into the camera with cold, dead eyes. “The bidding for the dress on this old bitch starts at five million,” he snarled. “If no one pays in thirty minutes, I’ll strip it off her myself, live for all of you to see!” My body trembled with fury, and a sharp pain shot through my swollen belly. A female officer steadied me. “Mrs. Vaughn, please try to stay calm. Your mother-in-law was last seen in the West End district. We have units searching everywhere.” Forcing myself to breathe, I fumbled for my phone and called my husband, Dean. He rejected the call twice. The third time, he answered. Before he could speak, I choked out the words. “Dean, Mom’s been kidnapped. Some maniac is demanding five-point-two million in the next thirty minutes, or he’s going to strip her naked on a live stream.” A long silence, then a contemptuous laugh. “First, you get my sister to fake a heart attack for attention, and now your mother gets kidnapped by a ‘maniac’. Elara, could you possibly be any more pathetic?” An officer took the phone from my shaking hand. “Mr. Vaughn, this is the police. We have credible information that the victim is your—” Dean cut him off impatiently. “You hired a pretty convincing actor this time, Elara. You want money? Fine. Get on your knees and apologize to Chloe. Ten times, you touch your head to the floor. Then slap yourself thirty times.” I knew what this was about. Payback for the time his sister and I had cornered his mistress, Chloe, at a mall and called her out. I opened a video call. I knelt before them, knocking my head against the cold floor until I felt the sting of broken skin, my own hand striking my cheek again and again. “Chloe, I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m the one who stole your place. I’m the pathetic other woman. Please, forgive me.” A smug, almost invisible smile played on Chloe’s lips. “Oh, Elara,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “You shouldn’t have to do this. A mother’s life is priceless. If you needed money, you could have just asked me. You didn’t have to slander your own mom to trick Dean.” I ignored her, my tear-filled eyes locked on my husband. “I did what you asked, Dean.” A flicker of something dark crossed his face before he answered coldly, “You’ll have the money in ten minutes.” I scrambled to my feet, wiping my tears, a wave of gratitude washing over me. But then Chloe’s saccharine voice piped up. “Oh, Dean, honey, look at that gorgeous emerald bracelet. It’s only five-point-two million…” Panic seized me. I looked at Dean, who hesitated, his gaze falling on me. Chloe feigned generosity. “Oh, never mind. Elara obviously needs the money for her mother. I just hope this is all some silly joke, or her poor mother will really suffer.” At her words, Dean’s expression turned to ice. He looked at me with profound disappointment. “See how considerate Chloe is? And then there’s you. You’d stoop to anything for attention. It’s nauseating.” “You won’t get a single dime.” He turned his attention back to the woman in his arms, his voice softening. “Anything you want, Chloe, I’ll buy it for you.” I snatched the phone back, but he had already hung up. When I tried to call back, the line was busy. In desperation, I called everyone I knew. I scraped together every penny I had, but I was still short. With only minutes left, I transferred the five million I had to the kidnapper’s account. On the live stream, the kidnapper checked the transfer. His face twisted in rage. “You bitch! You think you can play me?” He lunged forward, ripping the priceless silk gown from my mother-in-law’s body and throwing it to the ground. Eleanor’s frail body was exposed to the world. The comment section flooded with vile, disgusting remarks. Hearing her muffled sobs, I requested to join the stream. “Please, don’t hurt her!” I begged. “I’ll get the rest of the money, I promise!” “Ten more minutes,” the kidnapper roared. “Or I’ll do more than just strip her. You’ll get a real show!” Just then, Dean’s sister, Isabelle, burst into the station. Hearing the kidnapper’s threat, she clutched her chest. “Elara, call him now! Get Dean to send the money, or Mom is going to be killed!” I shakily dialed his number again. He picked up, his voice dripping with venom. “Are you deaf or just stupid, you bitch? How many times do I have to tell you not to bother me when I’m with Chloe?” Isabelle grabbed the phone, her face pale. “Dean, it’s Mom! She’s been kidnapped! If you have a shred of decency, you’ll get here now!” “Isabelle, this little trick wasn’t interesting the first time,” he sneered. “It’s even less so now.” Isabelle aimed the phone’s camera at the live stream monitor. Dean’s eyes widened in shock. “What the hell? I thought it was Elara’s mother?” Isabelle was so pale she looked translucent. I quickly gave her the emergency heart medication from my purse. After a moment, she exploded. “Open the live stream yourself, you bastard, and use your goddamn eyes! Mom is kidnapped, and you’re off with that whore? If anything happens to her, I will never forgive you!” Dean hesitated, but Chloe covered his phone with her own. “Dean, honey, your mother just sent me a text ten minutes ago.” He glanced at her screen, then looked back at us, his eyes cold. “Fine. You want a show? I’ll give you one.” A deep sense of unease settled in my gut. A moment later, Dean joined the kidnapper’s live stream. “I’ll give you ten million,” he said, his voice chillingly calm. “Break her legs.” The entire police station fell silent. The kidnapper’s eyes gleamed with greed. A metal pipe flashed across the screen, followed by Eleanor’s agonized groan. Isabelle’s heart gave out. She collapsed, and paramedics rushed her to the hospital. “You bastard!” I screamed at the phone. “That’s your mother in there! Call her right now if you don’t believe me! See if she answers!” Dean froze, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. But Chloe leaned in and whispered something in his ear. His expression hardened again. “How much did you pay these actors, Elara? I don’t have time for your games.” A man who had been at the station on other business couldn’t take it anymore. He snatched my phone. “Listen, kid,” he said angrily, panning the camera around the busy police station. “Your sister just had a heart attack, your mother’s been kidnapped, and you’re sitting there accusing them of playing games? I don’t care if you think it’s real or not. When it’s your own mother, you show up!” The stranger’s words seemed to get through to him. But then the kidnapper spoke again. “New offer! One million, and you can have the old hag delivered to your door.” Dean was about to speak again when Chloe tugged on his arm. “Dean, he’s right. Maybe you should go check. We can… reschedule.” He squeezed her hand, his gaze on me filled with loathing. “Don’t get too greedy, Elara. You might choke on it.” “Even if it’s a trick, you have to come back, Dean!” I cried, clutching my stomach. “Don’t forget I’m carrying your child!” Chloe’s face went white, and she turned away, sobbing quietly. The veins on Dean’s forehead bulged—a sign of impending rage. “You want to play?” he hissed. “Let’s play.” He reconnected to the stream. “Another ten million,” he said, his voice flat and dead. “Break her arms. And take off the rest of her clothes.” The kidnapper, ecstatic, swung the pipe again. The gag in Eleanor’s mouth fell out, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream of pure agony. Dean shuddered, a look of dawning horror on his face. But then Chloe collapsed into his arms, whispering with her last ounce of strength, “Go home, Dean… don’t worry about me…” “Elara,” he roared into the phone. “If anything happens to Chloe, I will make you wish you were never born!” The video feed cut out. I staggered back, my world spinning. A few minutes later, police swarmed the location on the live feed. The kidnapper was apprehended. Seeing Eleanor being carried out on a stretcher, the world went black. I woke up in a hospital bed three days later. The nurses told me Isabelle had survived. Eleanor’s arms and legs were broken, but she was stable. She would be bedridden for the rest of her life. And Dean? He’d rented a helicopter to shower Chloe with cash in a grand public gesture and had leased a private island for her. My hand went to my aching stomach, a cold dread seeping into my bones. When I went to see Eleanor, her eyes were empty, the vibrant spark she once had, gone. Only when she saw me did a flicker of life return. I walked to her bedside, and tears streamed down her face. “Elara,” she whispered, her voice thick with guilt. “This is karma, isn’t it?” “When I found out that worthless son of mine had fallen for that manipulative girl, I drugged you both. It was the only way I thought you could have a child and save your marriage. I thought if you were married, the love would come later. I never imagined he was such a monster.” “Do you hate me, Elara?” I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Of course not, Mom. I know you were trying to help.” She nodded, a small, sad smile on her lips. “I know you’re a good girl. If you ever decide to leave… just come tell me you’re safe.” Her voice became distant. “Your father-in-law and I never had a proper wedding. When he passed, I had to raise the children alone. If… if I go one day, I want you to give me a wedding instead of a funeral. I want to wear a white dress and see him again, looking beautiful.” “Mom, don’t talk like that!” I said, trying to sound angry. “You’re going to live a long, long life.” She didn’t seem to hear me. “And remember,” she said, her voice turning to steel. “I never want to see that bastard son of mine again.” She started coughing, and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. “Doctor!” I screamed. “My mother is spitting up blood! Help!” Eleanor was rushed back into emergency surgery. I sat in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity. Isabelle and her husband arrived, and I looked up at them, lost. “How is she?” Isabelle asked. “It’s bad.” The light above the operating room door went out. The doctor emerged, his face grim. “She lost the will to live,” he said, shaking his head. “During the procedure, she bit her own tongue. By the time we could stop her… she was gone.” Isabelle fainted. Two days later, I posted the full story online, including Eleanor’s final wish. The public, moved by her tragic story, organized to attend her service and pay their respects. On the third day, I used my life savings to rent out the ballroom of a five-star hotel. On the day of the funeral, just as promised, hundreds of strangers came to honor her. And, of course, Dean showed up, with Chloe on his arm. He saw me in my white maternity gown and sneered. “Desperate to get married, are we? Not even divorced yet and you’re already moving on to the next guy. You really are pathetic.” He was completely oblivious to the looks of disgust from the crowd. A group of volunteers formed a protective line in front of me. “Dean,” I said, my voice cold as ice. “I’ve already sent you the divorce papers. You are not welcome here. Leave. Now.” He looked stunned, as if he’d never seen this side of me before. His chest heaved. “Who the hell do you think you are to divorce me? You’re going to carry my child and marry someone else? Did you ask my permission?” “Did you ask my permission before you got a mistress?” I shot back. “Did you ask for the truth before you paid to have your own kidnapped mother tortured and humiliated? Did you ask if your sister’s heart was stable before you sent her into cardiac arrest for the second time?” He was speechless, staring at me. “What are you talking about?” “I’m done with you, Dean. I hope you and Chloe are very happy together. I hope you’re chained to each other for eternity.” A flicker of panic crossed his face. “Elara, what do you know? What did you do to my mother and my sister?” I laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “I don’t have time for this. If you want the truth, ask the woman standing next to you.” A venomous look flashed in Chloe’s eyes before she burst into tears. “Dean, honey, I’ve been with you this whole time! You know everything I’ve done!” The crowd was stunned by her instant waterworks. One woman finally snapped. “That little act might work on him, but if it were me, I’d slap her face off!” “Damn right!” another chimed in. “And Dean’s no better! He drove his own mother to her death, his sister’s still in the hospital, and he has the nerve to bring his mistress here to taunt his pregnant wife! Scum!” “We can’t let him in! He’ll ruin everything!” Dean, hearing the whispers, turned red with rage. “Elara, after I go check on my mother, you and I are going to have a reckoning. You just wait.” He tried to pull Chloe away, but she resisted, looking around with a puzzled expression. “Dean, honey, why aren’t there any pictures of the bride and groom? There aren’t even any names.” He paused, finally taking in the strange decorations. Panic flared in my chest. “Get out, Dean! Take her and get out!” The crowd echoed my command. Dean just laughed, a cruel, ugly sound. He snapped his fingers, and his bodyguards moved forward. “Today, I’m going to find out exactly what dirty little secret you’re hiding in here.” The scene devolved into chaos. I tried to back away, shielding my stomach, but when I turned, Chloe was right behind me. Her hateful gaze was fixed on my belly. She smiled, then shoved me, hard. I hit the floor. A warm, sticky wetness spread beneath me. Someone screamed. “Blood! She’s bleeding!” The crowd parted. Chloe had fallen a few feet away, and was now sobbing. “Oh, Elara, I’m so sorry! I should have just let you push me! Then you wouldn’t have…” She crawled towards me, grabbing my hand and trying to make me slap her. Dean kicked me aside and rushed to Chloe’s side. I stared blankly at the pool of red spreading on the marble floor. My only thought was: My baby is gone. Dean’s face was contorted with fury. “I’m tearing this place apart,” he snarled. “I’m going to see what kind of trash you’re hiding!” His bodyguards held back the crowd. I was too weak to stop him. He and Chloe swept past me and into the ballroom. The crowd surrounded me, helpless, calling for an ambulance. I watched Dean’s retreating back and whispered, “I’m sorry, Mom. I couldn’t stop him.” Dean stormed into the hall. The room was filled with white chrysanthemums, all surrounding a single white casket in the center of the room. Chloe gasped, clutching his arm. He remembered my defiant expression and shook her off. “If you’re scared, you can wait outside.” He waved for a bodyguard to take her away, then slowly walked towards the stage. With every step closer to the casket, the unease in his gut grew into a suffocating dread. He reached the top, looked inside, and saw the face of the person lying there. He screamed and stumbled backward, collapsing on the floor.

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I was the placeholder daughter. The real one, the heiress, returned with a secret she couldn’t hide any longer. She paraded her swollen belly through town as if it were a trophy. “This?” she’d announced, a smug smile playing on her lips. “This is the heir to the Sterling empire.” My jaw dropped. On the other end of the phone, my boyfriend’s voice crackled with fury. “Who the hell is spreading rumors about me?” 1 The day the true Hamilton heiress came back, I was one signature away from taking over my adoptive parents’ company. Which is why, whenever she looked at me, her eyes burned with a hatred so pure it was almost comical. I’m not exaggerating when I say that if a stray dog dropped a bone between us, Penny Hamilton would snatch it up and declare it had been hers all along. The reason was simple: she couldn’t stand the sight of me. I understood her resentment, I really did. But understanding didn’t change the fact that the decision to hand me the company wasn’t mine alone. “Dad, Mom,” I said, trying to be diplomatic. “The company should go to Penny. I can help her, guide her through the transition. But asking me to take the helm… I can’t do that.” My adoptive parents hesitated, and I knew why. Penny’s reputation preceded her. She was famous for nothing but partying and spending, the epitome of a spoiled heiress. The Hamiltons had built a respectable business from the ground up, a legacy of sweat and sacrifice. They weren’t about to let their prodigal daughter burn it to the ground. Their plan had been to give her a third of the shares—enough to keep her comfortable for life without giving her the power to do any real damage. But Penny’s ambition was as vast as her incompetence. She was determined to outdo me. When she found out I had a degree in finance, she immediately begged our parents to send her to a prestigious business school in Switzerland. Less than a month later, she came running back home, whining about being homesick. I suspected the truth was she couldn’t keep up with the coursework. Back home, she demanded a senior management position at the company. Fine. I stepped aside. In the two months she was there, half our clients left, and a good chunk of our best employees resigned. With the company teetering on the brink of collapse, my parents had no choice but to call me back in. Penny was practically vibrating with rage. But while she fumed, I got to work. When she realized I wasn’t even treating her as a rival—just an obstacle to be managed—she clutched her stomach and cried out in pain. We all rushed her to the hospital in a panic, only to be torn apart by the doctor. “What kind of parents are you?” he scolded, his voice sharp. “She’s at least three months pregnant! You have to be more careful. You’re lucky both of them are okay this time. One more scare like this and you might not be so fortunate.” My parents froze on the spot. Pregnant? When did Penny get pregnant? After the doctor left, Penny stared at her hands, the picture of guilt. My adoptive father paced the room like a caged animal, his face a thundercloud. My mother’s eyes welled with tears. “Penny, honey… who’s the father?” Penny lifted her head, and a flicker of triumph, of all things, shone in her eyes. “I’m carrying the heir to the Sterling empire.” “Whose?” my father choked out. “Chad Sterling’s.” My world tilted on its axis. On the other end of my phone, the man in question was practically shouting. “Who is spreading these lies about me? Viv, I swear on my life, I’m innocent.” I covered the receiver and slipped out of the hospital room. “Do you know a Penny Hamilton?” I had never heard Chad so agitated. “Penny who? I don’t know any Penny, or Sunny, or whatever her name is! Is she the one behind this?” Well, that was… definitive. Penny was three and a half months pregnant. If my memory served me right, three and a half months ago, Chad Sterling was on the other side of the Atlantic. This baby had absolutely nothing to do with him. “Okay,” I said calmly. “I get it.” Chad paused. “Viv? That’s not the reaction I was expecting. Are you mad? Don’t you believe me?” I sighed. “I’m not an idiot.” Besides, I was well acquainted with Penny’s talent for spectacular, jaw-dropping lies. Chad was still rambling. “Viv, my heart, my whole life—it’s all yours. It’s always been yours.” “Chad,” I cut in, a smile tugging at my lips. “Shut up.” 2 Chad could be incredibly possessive, in the sweetest way. He spent the next ten minutes swearing oaths of fidelity, assuring me again and again that he had nothing to do with Penny. By the end of it, I was the one comforting him. “Viv, can you come over tonight?” he asked, his voice small and wounded. “I’m worried some other lunatic is going to try and frame me.” I rolled my eyes. The allure of being Manhattan’s golden boy was a heavy burden, apparently. I glanced back into the hospital room where my parents were still interrogating a defiant Penny. “Be good,” I murmured into the phone. “I need to handle this family mess first.” Penny’s baby wasn’t Chad’s, which meant she’d been with someone else. I couldn’t just drop that bomb on my parents; I needed to find out the truth quietly. “Okay, okay! I’ll wait for you!” The man who was a ruthless titan of industry in public was now as docile as a puppy. I smiled softly and ended the call. Very few people knew Chad was pursuing me. I’d been hesitant at first, unsure of where I stood in the world. But after Penny came back, his steadfastness had won me over. The Hamiltons were no longer my family, but Chad had promised me a home that would be ours and ours alone. At a time when my entire identity had been shattered, his words were like sunlight pouring through the cracks. That’s when I finally agreed to be his girlfriend. I quickly discovered that the man tabloids painted as a playboy who changed women like suits was, in reality, a disciplined and brilliant CEO who ran the vast Sterling Corporation with chilling efficiency. And in private, he was a complete romantic. He’d send me photos of the roses in his garden or his goofy golden retriever. He brewed me ginger tea when I had cramps. He’d notice my shoes were uncomfortable and a new pair would arrive the next day. He would be my sounding board, a warm embrace when I felt like the world had abandoned me. He hadn’t performed grand gestures, but his quiet, consistent care was everything. It was the warmth I desperately needed. “Vivian, where did you go?” My mother rushed out, her face a mask of anger and anxiety. “You need to do something. Help Penny sort this out.” Inside, Penny stared at the ceiling, looking thoroughly unimpressed. My face remained calm, but a cold knot formed in my stomach. Penny had been gone for twenty years; it was only natural for my parents to dote on her. But to immediately ask me to clean up her mess… how much longer would they rely on me? “First things first,” I said, my voice even. “Are we absolutely sure the baby is Chad Sterling’s?” Penny shot up like a cornered cat. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you jealous I’m the one carrying his baby?” As if. If I wanted his baby, getting it would be the easy part. Jealous of her? Please. “Calm down, calm down,” my mother soothed, stroking Penny’s hair before turning to me with a reproachful look. “Vivian, she’s emotional right now. Don’t provoke her.” I was just asking for confirmation. Was that too much to handle? I took a deep breath, forcing down the wave of irritation. I didn’t mind her showering Penny with love, but did she have to tear me down in the process? Seeing Penny’s smug, triumphant expression, a chill went through me. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” I said, my tone carefully neutral. “I just think that if it is Chad Sterling’s child, then we should contact him immediately.” “But how?” My mother’s face was etched with worry. My father stood by, his brow furrowed in thought. The Hamiltons ran a decent company, but it was a rowboat next to the Sterling Corporation’s battleship. They didn’t move in the same circles. “We have to find a way,” I insisted, looking pointedly at Penny. “The baby is growing every day. We can’t let him be born without a father in the picture.” I softened my voice, feigning concern. “Whether he acknowledges the child, whether you even decide to keep it… those are conversations you need to have with him. But first, Penny, you have to reach out.” “That’s right, that’s right!” My mother, desperate for a plan, seized on my words. “Penny, call him now.” But suddenly, Penny looked conflicted. “His phone… it goes straight to voicemail. And he hasn’t replied to my texts…” This was getting more absurd by the second. Was she even sure who she’d been texting? 3 My adoptive parents looked like they’d been slapped. My father’s hand shot up as if to strike her, but seeing her pale, tear-streaked face, he dropped it with a growl of pure frustration. “You foolish, foolish girl!” “What are you doing, yelling at her at a time like this?” My mother immediately jumped to her daughter’s defense. Penny burrowed into her mother’s arms, sobbing. “Mom, I swear, it’s Chad’s baby!” “I know, I know, sweetie. It’s his.” My mother comforted her, then looked at me, her eyes pleading. “Vivian, you have to find a way to meet with him. You have to explain Penny’s situation.” Getting a meeting with Chad would be easy. But I wasn’t going to do it. Not for this. This woman was trying to pin a baby on the man I loved, and she wanted me to be her messenger? To ask him to play daddy to another man’s child? The nerve was astounding. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to go,” I said, shaking my head and offering a more practical suggestion. “If he won’t even see Penny, why would he see me? A better approach would be to use the company as a pretext. Request a formal business meeting. He’d have to show up for that.” Whether Hamilton Industries was important enough to warrant his time wasn’t my problem. My mother frantically urged my father to make the arrangements. He looked miserable, but he didn’t argue, just stalked out of the room, phone in hand. “This is the heir to the Sterling empire,” Penny sneered, shooting me a look of pure contempt. “Soon, I’ll be the next Mrs. Sterling. You’d better watch how you act around me.” I just raised an eyebrow. If Chad Sterling would fall for someone like Penny, then he wasn’t the man I thought he was. And I wouldn’t want him anyway. My mother chided Penny for her rudeness, but a little pouting was all it took for her to be forgiven. The two of them were soon lost in a fantasy world, chattering excitedly about how Chad would react. I quietly hit record on my phone. My father returned quickly. A line had been secured. They could meet with Chad tomorrow. My mother and Penny were ecstatic. I stopped the recording and sent the audio file straight to Chad. The gold digger was on the move. The prospect of meeting Chad seemed to cure Penny instantly; she checked herself out of the hospital. On the ride home, she was a whirlwind of giddy chatter, fantasizing about becoming the Sterling matriarch and using their resources to elevate the Hamilton family to new heights. She even managed to charm my father out of his foul mood, and soon the whole family was caught up in her daydream. My phone buzzed. It was Chad. I quickly declined the call and texted back: Can’t talk. Text me. He replied instantly: I’M INNOCENT! I sent him a hugging emoji and told him we’d talk properly when we could meet. From my parents’ behavior, it was clear there was no room for me in the Hamilton house anymore. It was only a matter of time before I had to leave. I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast. The moment we got home, Penny started in on me, her eyes flashing with resentment. This was her house now. So what if I knew how to run a company? Once she married into the Sterling family, she’d have everything. I let out a soft, contemptuous laugh. “Why do you need a man to define your worth?” Her entire fantasy hinged on Chad. If she wasn’t the next Mrs. Sterling, she was nothing. “Vivian Hamilton!” she shrieked, clutching her stomach as if in agony. My parents came running at the sound. Penny immediately burst into tears. “Mom, I don’t want her in this house! Make her leave! Make her leave now!” “Penny, stop this nonsense,” my father scolded, but my mother just looked torn. I almost had to laugh. “Penny needs to rest,” I said, making the decision for them. “It’s best if I stay somewhere else for a while.” I paused, then added, “And I’ll hand over my duties at the company.” From the moment I learned of Penny’s existence, I had been preparing for this day. I’d secretly started my own consulting firm. Now was the perfect time to step away and focus on my own future. I was grateful to my adoptive parents for raising me. But it was time to say goodbye. 4 My parents put on a show of being heartbroken. My mother even dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Vivian, are you angry with me for spoiling Penny? It’s just that she’s been through so much…” “Mom,” I cut her off gently, “she’s pregnant and needs a stress-free environment. Me leaving is the best thing for everyone.” I didn’t blame her for loving her biological daughter. That was natural. What I couldn’t stand was being trampled on in the process. There was no point in forcing them to choose between us. “The company is in your hands now,” I told them. “You’ll have to work hard.” We all knew Penny was incapable of running it, but if she wanted it, she could have it. My father’s jaw was tight, but he said nothing. No one did. They didn’t insist. They didn’t say, “This is your home, and no one can kick you out.” And in their silence, I found a strange sort of peace. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out the door. People change. They had found her, the real thing, and I, the replacement, was no longer needed. All those years of love and affection evaporated like morning mist. Penny followed me to the car, a fake pout on her face. But as I passed, her eyes glinted with triumph and she whispered, so only I could hear, “You should just drop dead out there and never come back. Only when you’re gone will this family truly be mine.” Is that so? I thought. I had poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building Hamilton Industries. She couldn’t even finish business school. Good luck to her. But it wasn’t my problem anymore. I took my suitcase to the sleek, modern apartment I’d bought a while back. It was a quiet building, just two units per floor. The only drawback was my next-door neighbor: a certain lovesick billionaire who had insisted on buying the adjacent unit. When Chad found out I’d moved out, he was practically wagging his tail like an overjoyed puppy. “Viv, are you hungry? I can make you some noodles,” he chirped, following me around as I unpacked. “Are you still mad? Go on, hit me. Your boyfriend is your personal punching bag.” He flitted around my apartment, a whirlwind of energy, chattering away while he helped me unpack, mopped the floors, and wiped down the counters. With him around, everything was easier. “I’m not mad,” I said, finally. “I just think she’s an idiot.” To sleep with a man and not even know who he was… it was beyond reckless. “Have your people look into it,” I added. “Find out who really got her pregnant, and why she’s so convinced it was you.” “On it,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. The crown prince was angry, and when he was angry, things happened. After making a quick call, he disappeared into his own apartment and returned minutes later with two steaming bowls of beef noodle soup, my favorite. As we ate, he asked about my plans. I laid out my strategy for my new company. “Well,” I finished with a smile, “I guess I’ll be counting on the great Mr. Sterling’s support from now on.” My little company needed all the help it could get. “Anything for you,” he said, leaning closer, his eyes sparkling. “Does that earn me a kiss?” He was ridiculously endearing. I gave him a deep, lingering kiss, losing myself in the affection pouring from him. Thank God fate had brought him to me. I couldn’t imagine how I would have survived this, having the family I’d always known choose to cast me aside, without him. His unwavering support was the only thing keeping me from sinking into a pit of despair. “Viv,” Chad murmured, holding me close after our meal. “How do you want to handle this? I swear, I don’t even know who this Penny woman is.” “Just deal with it logically,” I said, stroking his hair. “You don’t need to do anything drastic just for my sake.” I didn’t want him dragged into this petty drama. If Penny ever found out about us, she would create a scandal that could damage his reputation. “Handle it your way.” 5 Chad was more disciplined than anyone I knew. The next morning, I woke up to the smell of a full breakfast cooking. It was all my favorites. By the time I finished my shower, a bowl of warm porridge was waiting for me, at the perfect temperature to eat. He even made a move to feed me the first spoonful. I dodged him with a laugh. “You can save that for when I’m old and can’t lift a spoon myself.” It was just a figure of speech, but his eyes lit up. “Viv, does that mean… you’re ready to spend the rest of your life with me?” Oh. I wanted to say no, not yet. But looking at his hopeful, puppy-dog expression, I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint him. I gave a small nod. He was so overjoyed he looked like he might actually lift me up and spin me around. “But I need to focus on my career first,” I added quickly, afraid he’d start planning a wedding on the spot. I loved him, I truly did, but I needed to be my own person. I wasn’t going to be like Penny, whose only ambition was to trade her last name for a more powerful one. “I know, I know,” he said, nodding eagerly, a wide grin on his face. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you build your empire, right?” Of course not. I’d be a fool to turn down his help. Chad’s business acumen was legendary. My plan was to head to my new office, get my files in order, and then meet him at Sterling Corporation. But before I could leave, my adoptive mother called. “Vivian,” she said, her voice laced with a pleading tone. “Could you come with us to Sterling Corporation today?” In the background, I could hear Penny muttering about how useless I was, but my mother persisted. I raised an eyebrow. “Alright,” I said. “I’ll meet you there.” Might as well get some entertainment in before a long day of work. When I arrived, the Hamiltons were already waiting outside the imposing glass tower. Penny was kicking at a loose stone on the pavement. “Took you long enough,” she grumbled. “Anyone would think you’d dropped dead on the way over.” “Penny!” my mother hissed, scandalized. Penny just scowled and stormed towards the entrance. My mother gave me a weary, apologetic smile. “The appointment was for nine-thirty,” I said coolly. “It’s nine-twenty. If we’d shown up any earlier, people might think we were in a rush to meet our maker.” “You—” Penny whirled around, but I ignored her. Just because she was pregnant didn’t mean I had to tolerate her abuse. Let her mother coddle her. One day, she’d regret it. “She’s getting more out of line every day,” my father muttered, shaking his head. But that was all he did. If he’d ever bothered to curb Penny’s arrogance, she wouldn’t be the beautiful, brainless mess she was today. The receptionist at Sterling Corporation knew me. She smiled brightly as I walked in, ready to greet me by name, but I gave her a subtle shake of my head. She didn’t miss a beat. “Do you have an appointment?” she asked the group, her smile unwavering. All eyes turned to my adoptive father. “No,” he mumbled, his face turning a deep shade of red. “But I thought you said you’d secured a line?” I asked innocently. His face went from red to purple. It seemed his “connection” was flimsy at best—a favor called in for nothing. “My daughter is pregnant with your CEO’s child!” my mother suddenly declared, her voice ringing through the marble lobby. “We are respectable people! You will call Chad Sterling down here right now, or I will make a scene you won’t forget!” The young receptionist glanced at me, her eyes wide. I gave a slight nod. My mother wasn’t one for dramatics, but she was a cornered mother bear. If they tried to stop her, she would absolutely cause a scene. But Chad didn’t come down. Instead, his executive assistant appeared, a man with a perpetually calm demeanor. He gave me a barely perceptible nod before addressing the room. “Which one of you is Penny Hamilton?”

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On my birthday, my mother got a call from herself, ten years in the future. The voice on the phone told my mother everything. “Your daughter grows up to be an ungrateful viper. She’ll take the money you slaved for and run off with some deadbeat.” “Your husband, the one ‘away on business’? He’s just pretending to be broke. He’s waiting to bleed you dry before he marries his beautiful young mistress.” My mother froze. The birthday cake slipped from her hands and shattered on the floor. Her face went cold as she stared at me. “If that’s the case,” she said, her voice like ice, “then I don’t want either of you. From now on, I’m going to be the main character in my own life.” And with that, she slammed the door and locked it behind her. I cried, my tiny hands pounding on the wood, a wave of panic and heartbreak so huge it felt like I was drowning. My mother seemed to forget. I was only six years old. I had just learned how to read. 1 I stood there, paralyzed by fear and confusion. I saw my mother turn, her face a mask of fury, and my heart leaped into my throat. I threw myself to the floor, clinging to her legs, my small body shaking with sobs. “Mommy, don’t leave me! Please, I’ll be good. Betsy will be good.” But she just pushed me away, her eyes colder than I had ever seen them. From the phone, the voice of my future mother boomed, filled with an unquenchable rage. “Eleanor, you are an independent woman! You can’t let them hold you back anymore!” “It’s because I had her, because I had to take care of her, that I was chained to this house! I became some tired, washed-up housewife that I don’t even recognize!” I stared, uncomprehending. I didn’t understand the words, but I understood the disgust in my mother’s eyes as she looked at me. Tears streamed down my face. It wasn’t true. We had Maria, our housekeeper, who cooked for us. I knew how to wash my own socks. I gave Mommy backrubs when she was tired. If she would just stay, I would give her all my pocket money. The thought made me scramble for my piggy bank. I held it up to her, a desperate plea in my eyes. “Mommy, Betsy will give you all her money to buy pretty dresses.” For a second, my mother hesitated. A flicker of something—pity, maybe—crossed her face. But then the voice on the phone cut through the silence again. “That little brat is a master manipulator. She’ll say anything! She lies and steals your money and runs off with a boy!” “Don’t you fall for it!” My mother’s face hardened. Her gaze on me was now sharp, piercing. She told me I was just like my father. Both of us were parasites, sucking her life away, caging her freedom. She wrenched her leg from my grasp, so forcefully that I stumbled backward and landed hard on the cold floor. “You stay here,” she commanded. “Don’t you dare come looking for me. And don’t even think about calling.” The heavy front door slammed shut with a deafening crash. My mother was gone, her suitcase rolling behind her. Just before she was out of earshot, I heard the voice on the phone one last time. “What if the little brat runs out after you? Cries to the neighbors? Your reputation will be ruined.” My mother’s footsteps paused. Click. The deadbolt slid into place. A final, metallic sound that sealed me in and her out. “Don’t go anywhere,” her muffled voice came through the door. “Just be a good girl and wait for your father to come home.” 2 I clawed at the door until my fingers were raw, but it wouldn’t budge. Eventually, exhausted and heartbroken, I curled up on the floor and cried myself to sleep. When I woke up, sunlight was streaming through the windows. My stomach was growling with a painful, hollow ache. There was no food in the house. Our housekeeper, Maria, was on vacation for a few days, and my mother had been ordering takeout for me. I remembered there were some apples in the fridge. But those were for Dad. Desperate, I went to the sink and chugged glass after glass of cold water. It filled my stomach with a bloated, icy feeling that temporarily pushed the hunger away. But soon, a burning emptiness returned, worse than before. I curled up on the sofa in the corner of the living room, clutching my stomach, tears starting to fall again. Mommy didn’t want me anymore. After that phone call, she couldn’t even stand to look at me. Sobbing, I tiptoed into my mother’s bedroom, pretending she was still there. I don’t know how long I lay on her bed, but as I was drifting off, I saw something on her vanity table. They looked like little cups of jelly. I was so hungry. I didn’t think. I scrambled over and ate them all. A little while later, a sharp pain began to twist in my stomach. I needed the bathroom, but the door had swung shut and was stuck tight. I couldn’t get it open. The pain was getting worse. I cried out, fumbling for the watch phone on my wrist and calling my mother. She answered. “Mommy,” I sobbed. “My tummy hurts.” Her voice was tight with irritation. “Can’t you be a little more grown-up? Don’t call me for every little thing.” “If your stomach hurts, take some medicine. Is that so hard to figure out?” she scoffed. Then, her voice dripped with venom. “Hasn’t your deadbeat dad come home yet? Probably off enjoying himself in some other woman’s bed. Disgusting.” She hung up. A strange, foul smell filled the air. I couldn’t hold it. I’d soiled my pants. I shrank into the corner, terrified. Normally, if I had an accident like this, my mother would get the wooden spoon. But right now, all I wanted was for her to come back. My head felt fuzzy and hot. I fell asleep again. When I opened my eyes, my father was home. His face was a thundercloud as he yelled at the phone in his hand. My mother’s face was on the screen. “Look at what you’ve done to her! Eleanor, look at this child! She’s six years old, were you trying to starve her to death? What kind of mother does this?!” On the screen, my mother was in a brightly lit, fancy restaurant. She was slowly cutting a steak on her plate, not even bothering to look up. Only when my father had finished shouting did she put down her knife and fork, elegantly dab her lips with a napkin, and offer the camera a mocking smile. “What I’ve done? If she was hungry, couldn’t she eat? If her stomach hurt, couldn’t she find the bathroom? If she had a fever, she could take some medicine. What does any of that have to do with me?” “I was never obligated to take care of her!” She took a deep breath, her eyes turning red at the corners, as if she were the victim. “And don’t think I don’t know, Mark. Was it fun playing poor? Tricking me into being a housewife while you squirreled away your money?” For a second, my father’s angry expression cracked. He looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?” But she wouldn’t elaborate. “Let’s get a divorce,” she said coldly, and ended the call. The room was silent. I knew my mother was just angry. She wanted my father to go to her, to comfort her. Whenever he was away on business before, she was always counting the days until he came home with a new handbag or a new dress. She cared about him. I wiped my tears and looked up at my father. “Go get Mommy, please? I miss her.” His face hardened. He gently removed my hand from his sleeve. “If your mother wants to throw a tantrum, let her.” My father hired a new live-in nanny just for me, and our old housekeeper, Maria, was now tasked with making all my favorite foods. In the days without my mother, things changed. The dishwasher was used for the first time. My pigtails, which were always lopsided, were now styled into beautiful new braids every morning. The clothes I wore were always a little too tight, and sometimes the other kids would laugh at me. The new nanny, Linda, pointed out that they were from two years ago. She got money from my father and bought me a whole new wardrobe of pretty dresses. I had once asked my mother why she insisted on doing everything herself when she wasn’t good at washing dishes or cooking, and always forgot to buy me clothes that fit. She had told me we didn’t have the money, and that I needed to learn not to be wasteful. Hiring a housekeeper was expensive. I told this to my father, secretly asking him to let the nannies go. He just snorted. “Your mother has a single dress in her closet that costs more than both their monthly salaries combined.” 3 He threw open her closet doors. “This is tens of thousands of dollars worth of clothes. And she says I tricked her into living a hard life?” “If she wants a divorce, fine. I’ve had enough, too.” That night, I cried until I couldn’t breathe. The old lady next door said I was a poor, pitiful thing. I was going to be a child of divorce. I didn’t know what that meant. I only knew that the woman on the phone, the one who claimed to be my mother from the future, had ruined everything. She had poisoned my mother’s mind. I tugged on my father’s sleeve. “Mommy didn’t mean it. The person on the phone tricked her. We have to go help her.” My father just frowned. “Betsy, don’t be difficult. Your mother and I were always going to end up here.” Then, a strange, soft look came into his eyes. “If you don’t like the new nanny, I can have another, prettier lady come take care of you.” I froze. I stumbled backward, shaking my head violently. My back hit the front door, and it swung open. My mother was standing there. I fell right into her arms. For a split second, a delirious joy surged through me, and I opened my mouth to call her name. But she pushed me away. She held out a piece of paper, her voice cold. “Sign it.” “Nothing you say this time will change my mind…” she started to say, but was cut off. My father had already signed the divorce papers without a word. My mother was stunned. Her face went pale with rage. She whirled on me. “Me or your father. Who do you choose?” Tears choked my voice. “I want it to be like before,” I whispered. “I want Mommy and Daddy to be together.” My mother’s expression changed instantly. From her phone, which was in her pocket, I could hear the woman—the future mother—laughing. “See? What did I tell you? She’s an ungrateful little viper!” “She’ll never appreciate what you do for her. You work yourself to the bone raising her, and she’s still attached to that man who is only her biological father.” I shook my head, desperately reaching for my mother’s hand. “No, that’s not it. I love Mommy. I’ll go with Mommy. Please don’t leave me.” My mother stared at me for a long time, her face unreadable. The voice from the phone continued, relentless. “If you take that brat with you, your life is over. She’s dead weight. A ball and chain.” “I am you, ten years from now! I know what I’m talking about! Don’t make the same mistakes I did.” My mother’s focus sharpened. She looked at me. “I gave you a choice. You didn’t take it.” “From now on, you are not my problem.” She pulled her hand away. For the second time, she abandoned me. She called me dead weight. The room fell silent again. My father knelt in front of me. His voice was a blade of ice. “Your mother doesn’t want you. Do you see that clearly now? She left you. From now on, whether you live or die, it has nothing to do with her.” Every word was an icicle piercing my skin. Silent tears slid down my cheeks, soaking the collar of my shirt. My father stood up, straightening his cuffs. “Linda will be taking care of you for a few days.” I blinked. And then I saw her, standing behind him. A pretty woman with a tight smile. Linda didn’t like it when I cried. I learned quickly to swallow my tears when she was looking. Linda also didn’t like it when I got too close to my father. “A big girl like you shouldn’t be acting that way,” she’d say, peeling an apple without looking at me. “Clinging to your father like that. It’s not proper. It’s the kind of thing a seductress would do.” My hands balled into fists. I didn’t understand all her words, but I knew they were ugly. I held back my tears, because crying would only make her tell my father I was being manipulative. One day, I noticed all the things my mother had left for me were gone. My favorite doll, my puzzles, the birthday presents she’d given me over the years—vanished. Linda just smiled. “All that junk needed to be thrown out. People would think you were a beggar.” “Out with the old, in with the new,” she sang. “From now on, in this house, you listen to me.” “I hate you!” The words burst out of me. I pushed her, hard. She stumbled and crashed into the coffee table. My father was coming down the stairs and saw everything. For the first time in my life, he hit me. He used his belt. It whistled through the air and cracked against my skin. The pain was so sharp I writhed on the floor, snot and tears streaming down my face. “She threw away my things! The things Mommy gave me! I hate her!” “Say that again!” he roared. “You disrespectful little brat!” The belt came down again, this time catching my cheek. A bright red welt appeared instantly, hot and stinging, the skin broken. My father froze, his anger faltering for a second. “If you apologize to Linda,” he said coldly, “I’ll forgive you.” “She’s just a child, Mark,” Linda said, her voice dripping with false concern. “She doesn’t know any better. I’ll teach her.” I scrambled to my feet, wiped my face, and ran. As the door slammed behind me, I heard Linda’s voice. “Should we go after her?” “No,” my father replied. “Let her learn her lesson. Her mother filled her head with poison.” 4 I wandered the streets, a homeless child. I pulled out my watch phone. I missed my mom. I had to call her. After a moment of silence, she said, “Fine. Come here.” I was ecstatic. I thought she was ready to forgive me. With the last five dollars I had, I bought a single rose from a street vendor. A present for her. When I got to the address she gave me and held out the flower, the disgust on her face was plain to see. “Where’s your father?” she asked, frowning. “He used to send me 999 roses. Does he think he can win me back with one pathetic flower, using you as his messenger?” She scoffed. “Not a chance.” “You go back and tell him that from now on, I’ll travel to Europe when I want, I’ll buy what I want, and he won’t say a word about it! I am done letting you two drain the life out of me.” “I am the main character now.” I looked up at her, my voice barely a whisper. “But… Dad doesn’t want me anymore.” My hands twisted the hem of my shirt. “There’s a new lady living with us. She doesn’t let me cry, or get close to Dad. She made him hit me.” Tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to show her the marks on my arms, to make her feel sorry for me. But the triumphant, defiant look on her face froze. She stared at me, her eyes narrowed, trying to see if I was lying. Then, she sneered. “So he’s trying to see who can be more ruthless, is that it?” “Why should I take on the dead weight he doesn’t want?” she spat. She called into the house, and a little girl came running out. The girl was wearing a frilly princess dress. She hugged my mother’s legs and chirped, “Mommy~” My world shattered. I lunged forward, trying to push the little girl away. “She’s my mommy!” But my mother just gave me a cold look and picked the other girl up. “And who are you?” she asked, pretending to think. “Go back and tell your father that I find both of you utterly repulsive. I have a new life now. Better choices. And a much sweeter, more obedient daughter than you.” She turned away, cooing at the little girl, the perfect picture of a loving mother and daughter. I stood there, watching them, a cold hand squeezing my heart until I couldn’t breathe. My mother’s phone was on her hip, the speaker on. And I heard that voice again. The voice of my future self. “That’s it,” the voice cheered. “Make the little brat regret it! Let them both burn! Hahaha.” “Don’t go soft now. She’s just putting on an act again!” No. That’s not right. I wasn’t acting. My head started to pound. Hearing that familiar voice, it all clicked into place. I suddenly knew exactly who the ‘mother from the future’ really was. I ran after my mother, desperate to tell her the truth. But she was already crossing the street, disappearing into the crowd. “Mommy!” I cried, darting into the road after her. The next second, an explosion of pain swallowed me whole.

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1 Three years after my death, my husband Mitte came to the old estate seeking me for the first time—for his mentor’s daughter. “Get Elara to the hospital. Anna needs her uterus,” he commanded coldly. The butler replied truthfully, “Sir, the lady passed away three years ago. As you instructed us not to bother you with her matters, we arranged her burial ourselves.” Mitte sneered. “Still playing games? She even bribed the Thornes’ butler. I’ll find her myself.” He stormed in with Anna Vance, ransacking the house—but found no trace of me. They left in anger. On the road, Anna whined, “Last time it was just a kidney—why the drama? How can I give you a child without a womb?” “Relax,” Mitte said. “She can’t hide forever.” No sooner had he spoken than their car veered and crashed into a monastery wall. When they woke, they were in the Netherworld. And I was nearby, processing the newly departed. … Perhaps the crash had addled their minds, but neither of them realized they were dead. When Mitte saw me sitting there, perfectly fine, a wave of relief washed over him, quickly followed by a surge of fury. He pointed a finger at me, his voice sharp with accusation. “Elara! Did you bribe the butler and go into hiding? How can you be so petty? It’s just a uterus. It’s not going to kill you.” I ignored him, busy guiding the new arrival in front of me to sign their final confirmation. Infuriated, he strode over and swept the desk clean with one violent motion. “I’m talking to you! Holding a grudge for three years… you’ve really got some nerve.” My work now thoroughly interrupted, I looked up at him calmly, my voice low and steady. “Wasn’t one kidney enough?” It happened on our wedding day. Anna, a guest of honor, never showed up. Mitte, frantic after a dozen unanswered calls, abruptly announced the wedding was postponed and left me standing at the altar without a backward glance. I waited in my heavy wedding gown until darkness fell, only to hear he was at the hospital. Anna was gravely ill and needed a kidney transplant. She produced a tissue-typing report claiming I was the only match. I refused, vehemently. In the end, Mitte had his men drag me to a hospital bed. He held up a marriage certificate, telling me that as my husband, he had already signed the donation consent form on my behalf. “One kidney won’t affect your life,” he had said. “No matter what, you are my wife. I’ll take good care of you from now on.” After the surgery, too weak to even sit up, I accidentally knocked over the soup Anna had supposedly made herself. For that, Mitte had me locked away in the old family estate to “reflect,” before I was even strong enough to get out of bed. If Anna hadn’t needed a womb, I doubt Mitte would have ever remembered I existed. “How could it be enough?” he scoffed now, then paused. “You are still my wife. Besides, Anna and I have already discussed it. If you feel uncomfortable, she’ll leave the country as soon as the baby is born and never come back.” “I won’t see them, either,” he added. “I’ll stay home with you, and we’ll raise our children together.” “Our children?” The idea was so ludicrous I had to laugh. “With my womb inside Anna, where exactly am I supposed to grow these children?” Mitte shot me a disdainful look. “Do you think Anna is as selfish as you? She said she’ll have two. One for us.” I looked over at Anna with a wry smile. She clung to Mitte’s arm, her expression soft and fragile. “Did I make Elara angry? Maybe… maybe we should just forget it.” “Ignore her,” Mitte snapped. “She forced you to leave the country once before and you never said a word of complaint. They say childbirth is like walking through the gates of hell. She gets to be a mother without any of the pain. She should be grateful, not angry.” “I made a sacred vow to your father on his deathbed that I would take care of you for life. Since you’ve decided not to marry and only want a child to keep you company, it’s my duty to make that happen.” Tears of gratitude welled in Anna’s eyes. The two of them were lost in their own world, their gazes locked in a tender, intimate embrace. But I had a job to do. I had no choice but to interrupt. “These are the gates of hell. You two are new arrivals. Please register here.” 2 The tenderness vanished from Mitte’s face, replaced by a simmering rage. “That’s enough, Elara. Anna’s health is fragile. Who are you trying to curse with that kind of morbid talk?” He glanced around, a smirk playing on his lips. “You hired quite a few people, didn’t you? It’s a convincing setup. Now, come with me. The operating room is prepped and ready. Don’t waste the doctors’ time.” He reached for my hand. In that flash of contact, I saw the last few hours of his life. After failing to find me, he had forced the butler to tell him where I was hiding. The old man sighed, his voice weary. “Ma’am is truly gone, sir. I handled her funeral myself, three years ago. If you don’t believe me, you can see for yourself at the monastery outside the city. Her ashes are kept there. She had no family, and without your permission, she couldn’t be interred in the Thorne family crypt. It was the only arrangement I could make.” “Enough of your lies! You tell Elara my mind is made up. If she doesn’t show herself, I’ll deal with an old fool like you, too.” He shoved the butler to the floor and sped towards the city outskirts. At the monastery, they immediately spotted the urn bearing my name. Ignoring the protests of a young monk, Mitte pried it open without hesitation. “It’s just ash from a fire pit,” Anna goaded from his side, fanning the flames of his anger. “To think she’d even deceive the church. Elara is determined to defy us to the very end, isn’t she?” Rage consumed him. Mitte tossed the contents of the urn into a nearby pond. He called his assistant, ordering him to hire every private investigator in the city to find me. “I don’t care if I have to dig up the entire country,” he seethed. “She will give you that womb.” He didn’t notice the triumphant smirk on Anna’s face behind him. Neither of them realized that just a few minutes later, their journey would end in the Netherworld. Seeing his disbelief, I grabbed a passing soul. “How did you die?” “Drowned while swimming in the river.” “Gas leak. Asphyxiated.” “I was too focused on my game… held my pee until my bladder burst. They couldn’t save me,” a young man behind them added with a grimace. “Hahaha!” Amidst the collective sighs of the dead, a jarring laugh rang out. “These actors are quite dedicated,” Anna giggled, nestled in Mitte’s arms. “They even have their lines down.” He looked at me with a cold smile. “And you? How did you die?” How I died. If he had lived just a little longer, he would have found out. Back then, I was thrown into the old estate while my wounds were still bleeding. The only people there were the old butler and the guards stationed to prevent my escape. The room was damp and cold. My surgical wound became infected. When the butler called Mitte, he’d snapped, “As long as Elara’s still breathing, don’t bother me. Let her learn some humility. It’s not like being a pampered wife is some great hardship.” I couldn’t get out, and no doctor could get in. The butler, helpless, could only buy some over-the-counter medicine and tend to my wounds himself. Day after agonizing day, my body wasted away. My organs began to fail. When I finally died, the butler called Mitte one last time. He was in the middle of throwing a lavish birthday party for Anna. “She’s always scheming for attention. Just hearing her name annoys me,” he’d muttered, blocking the estate’s number without a second thought. From that day on, he never heard another word about me. Mitte’s hands clenched into fists. He didn’t want to believe it, but a suffocating tightness gripped his chest. “Mitte, it’s not just me who’s dead. The two of you are dead as well. A car crash.” His pupils contracted. He snapped his head up, his eyes locking with mine. 3 “Mitte, darling, you don’t actually believe her nonsense, do you?” Before Mitte could answer, the Adjudicator floated over, holding a stack of files. Anna shrieked and buried her face in Mitte’s chest. “A ghost!” “What’s with all the screaming? Honestly, some of you newcomers take forever to accept reality,” the Adjudicator grumbled, handing the files to me. “Elara, you’ve accumulated enough merit. You have two choices: a promotion in rank, or reincarnation into a wealthy and powerful family. Of course, you could also give your chance to a newly deceased relative, allowing them to return to life. But it’s your merit to use. You might not get a chance this good again.” Shaken from his shock, Mitte asked the Adjudicator hesitantly, “Are we… really dead?” “Indeed. Though Elara has been here for three years. You two are fresh arrivals. Do you know each other?” “Yes,” Mitte said quickly. “I am her husband.” The Adjudicator eyed the clinging couple with suspicion, and Mitte hastily let go of Anna. “What you said just now… about a relative returning to life. Is that true?” “I don’t lie to the dead. Elara’s ancestors were people of great virtue, and she herself was a victim of malice. The Lord of this realm has granted her this opportunity to earn her way back to the living.” “Elara,” Mitte said, his voice dripping with affection. “What?” I took a wary step back. “You want to go back?” “How could you think so little of me? When have I ever put myself before you?” he explained, a wounded look on his face. “Please, could you give the chance to Anna? Let her go back. Consider it my way of repaying the debt I owe her father.” I refused without a moment’s hesitation. The story of his debt to his mentor was one he had drilled into my ears countless times. He was the illegitimate son of the Thorne family. After his mother was forced to her death, the killer came for him next. It was Anna’s father who saved him. Anna’s father was a widely respected professor. His reputation shielded Mitte from the wrath of the Thorne family’s matriarch, allowing him to grow up and eventually secure his inheritance. So, in his mind, his favoritism was justified. When he gave Anna extravagant gifts that crossed the line, my anger was just jealousy. When he abandoned me on the side of the road in a downpour to take Anna’s dog home, my accusations were just pettiness. When he said Anna’s health was poor, it became my duty to give up a kidney, and then my womb. His so-called debt of gratitude was paid entirely with pieces of me. And now, even in death, he wouldn’t let me be. “You’re as stubborn and ungrateful as ever,” Mitte said, his voice laced with disappointment. “If it weren’t for Anna’s father, I wouldn’t have survived. And without me, where would your precious status as Mrs. Thorne have come from?” Seeing that I was unmoved, he turned to the Adjudicator. “In life, she was a member of the Thorne family. Doesn’t that mean her merit and her opportunity belong to our family as well?” The Adjudicator mulled it over. “That’s not an entirely incorrect way of looking at it.” “Then, as the head of the Thorne family and Elara’s husband, I demand that this chance to return to life be given to Anna Vance.” I watched in shock as he lunged for the Ledger of Merits in my hands. In the struggle, the ledger fell, its pages scattering across the floor. As the Adjudicator helped pick them up, he glanced at a page. “Wait a minute. According to this, Elara was unmarried in her mortal life. She received no formal betrothal, nor was her name ever entered into your family’s official records. What kind of husband are you?” While he spoke, the Adjudicator pulled up Mitte’s mortal file. “The only wife you ever officially registered was named Anna Vance.” Mitte’s hands froze. He shot a furtive, guilty glance in my direction. “It was your fault,” he stammered, trying to explain. “You insisted on posting photos of my proposal on social media. Anna felt insecure. I had to do something to appease her.” 4 It was true. I had been a fool. The day Mitte proposed, I was ecstatic. I thought, He wasn’t lying. He really does love me, and Anna is just like a sister to him. I even chastised myself for my own paranoia. But half an hour later, Anna stormed into our engagement party and smashed a glass against my forehead without a word. On the way to the hospital, Mitte explained that she was just young and impulsive. As her future sister-in-law, I needed to be more tolerant. The doctor warned that I might have a concussion and needed to be monitored through the night. But Mitte left in a hurry in the middle of the night, not even bothering to arrange for a nurse. He returned the next afternoon with a beaming Anna by his side. Seeing the blood seeping through the bandages on my head, she offered only a feather-light “sorry.” And now I knew. Even that hollow apology was bought with a marriage certificate bearing my fiancé’s name and hers. “What about the marriage certificate from the day you forced me to donate my kidney?” I asked. “I… I had no choice. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Though I should have been numb to it by now, a bitter, pained laugh escaped me. In all our years together, all I ever warranted was a “desperate measure.” “Elara, even though I legally married Anna, you were still Mrs. Thorne in name. Everyone knew you as my wife. That’s a fact that can’t be changed. Once we send Anna back, you and I can be together, reunited as husband and wife, even here in the Netherworld.” I shook my head, the taste of ashes in my mouth. “Mitte, I am not your wife, and I don’t love you anymore. My seven years with you on earth… let’s just call it a trial I had to endure. From this moment on, we are strangers.” “Mitte, darling,” Anna whispered, tugging on his sleeve. “Does this mean Elara still hasn’t forgiven me? It’s okay. As long as I have you with me, I don’t care about life or death.” “Look at Anna, and then look at yourself,” Mitte spat at me. “You used to say you loved me. Did you love me, or my status? You know the answer. And what about me? Was the love I gave you worth nothing?” “Whether you see it as compensation or atonement, I don’t care. This chance must go to Anna.” Mitte lunged forward, snatching the Ledger of Merits and thrusting it at Anna. “Go. Quickly.” Anna scurried over to the Redemption Counter. “I want to return to the world of the living.” The attendant checked the amount of merit, then placed the Scale of Sins against her wrist. The moment it made contact, the Scale let out a piercing shriek. “Irredeemable sin. Condemned to the Abyss.” Thinking it was a mistake, the attendant tried again. The result was the same. His expression turned grim. He confiscated the Ledger and ordered the other attendants to restrain Anna. “A severe mismatch. Report this to the higher authorities immediately.” By then, the Adjudicator and I had arrived. “Why are you chaining her?” Mitte demanded, grabbing at the shackles on Anna. “I’m the one who took the ledger. If there’s a problem, deal with me.” “Anna is kind and gentle,” he insisted, glaring at me. “This must be Elara’s doing. You’re selfish and cruel, and now you’re framing Anna. I’m so disappointed in you. We don’t want your charity if you don’t agree, but—” He seemed to have a sudden realization and turned to the Adjudicator with renewed confidence. “While I was alive, I donated a great deal of money to a charity in Anna’s name. She used it all for good deeds. Even if she doesn’t deserve special treatment, it’s impossible for her to have committed any sins.” “The Scale of Sins does not make mistakes,” the Adjudicator stated flatly. “In that case, bring me the Life Record of this Anna Vance.” An attendant soon returned with a thick, heavy book. The Adjudicator’s face grew darker with every page he turned. “So, you’re the one who caused Elara’s death. And not just hers. You killed her child, too.” This time, it wasn’t just Mitte who was stunned. I was, too. “Lies! He’s slandering me! He’s in league with Elara!” Anna shrieked, struggling to reach Mitte. The guards held her fast. “Mitte, darling, you have to believe me!” “When did I have a child?” I asked the Adjudicator, my mind reeling. He laid the Life Record open before me. There, in stark, clear script, it read: “Sin Ninety-Eight: The murder of Elara’s unborn child.” “See? Even she doesn’t know!” Anna pleaded desperately. “I’m being framed! The records can’t be trusted!” Mitte, finally regaining his senses, turned his disbelief on me. “Elara, you were with another man?” “This is too complicated to explain,” the Adjudicator sighed. “Just watch.” With a wave of his hand, a scene materialized in the air.

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1 Sailing in international waters to clear my head, I spotted my stepsister Luna trapped at a poker table. Opposite her stood the boys she’d grown up with, flanking a delicate girl, all wearing cold smirks. “What’s wrong, Miss Byrd? Can’t afford the bet?” Leo mocked. “You weren’t shy about demanding three million from Ava for a scarf.” “Fold if you want,” Caleb added calmly, “but hand over your 15% stake in the Byrd corporation to Ava by tomorrow.” Luna’s knuckles turned white, eyes red-rimmed. A man nearby laughed, loosening his tie. “Broke, little sister? Strip one item, I’ll give you five hundred in chips.” Whistles broke out. “Take it all off, and all my chips are yours!” From the upper deck’s shadows, I twisted the signet ring on my pinky. It’d been years since I showed my face here. They’d forgotten—though my sister bears her father’s name, she’s still a Frost. And those who touch a Frost girl pay with their lives. … My assistant beside me held his breath. “I’ll have the cruise director come and apologize to you at once, ma’am,” he whispered. I gazed down at the table, my voice arctic. “Not yet. Let’s see what kind of game they’re playing.” To make a move on my family, right under my nose? No one on this ship was getting off alive. Leo smirked at Luna, who was now encircled by leering men. “What’s the matter, Luna? Scared to undress? I’ve got some… private photos of you right here. How about we sell a set? Add a little to your pot?” Before he finished speaking, he’d tossed a USB drive to the staff. The next second, the massive screen above the table lit up. A high-definition photo of my sister, her clothes half-removed in a suggestive pose, flashed across the screen. “The great Miss Byrd always acts so pure,” someone jeered. “But look at the body on her under those clothes!” “I’m getting ideas and she’s not even naked yet. If she was, I think I’d die right on top of her!” Before the foul commentary could die down, Caleb tossed another USB drive onto the table with a cold smile. “I’ve got more. If you won’t trade your clothes for chips, I’ll help you out. I’ll add another bet for you!” The crowd roared its approval, the atmosphere heating up. “Our young masters are so generous! What a feast for the eyes!” Luna was trembling, tears streaming down her face. “We grew up together… How could you do this to me?” “Crying now, are we?” Leo sneered. “Where was this pathetic act when you were forcing Ava to pay up for that scarf?” “We’re trying to help you raise money, you ungrateful bitch!” Caleb added. “The scarf… she ruined it on purpose!” Luna retorted, her voice cracking. “My sister bought that for me…” At the mention of this, the girl named Ava, nestled between the two men, suddenly dropped to her knees, her face a mask of tears. “Luna, I know I was wrong! I’ve already bet myself in this game! Please, have mercy, don’t raise the bet again! Just let me go!” Leo slammed his hands on the table. “Luna, are you going to use your money to bully Ava to death before you’re satisfied?” Caleb yanked Ava up from the floor and pulled her into his arms. “You dare bully her right in front of us? Then don’t blame us for being ruthless!” Ava whispered, just loud enough for everyone to hear, “Don’t blame my sister. It’s my fault for making her unhappy.” She turned to Luna, a glint of steel in her eyes. “My sister is out of money. I heard she’s working eight jobs a day just to eat. As long as she folds this hand, I’ll let this go.” I almost laughed out loud. Looking at the chips on the table, I could see my sister had already bet her entire net worth, including the private shares our grandfather had given her. If she folded now, she’d be left with nothing but crippling debt. My gaze locked on Ava. She was wearing the custom gown I’d had made for Luna. The Patek Philippe on her wrist was a gift from me to my sister. Even the emerald necklace my mother had left for Luna was hanging around her neck. And my own sister was in faded, worn-out clothes, a patch visible on the cuff of her pants. When had my sister—Seraphina Frost’s sister—been brought so low? Luna bit her lip so hard it nearly bled, tears carving paths down her pale cheeks. She looked like she was about to collapse. It seemed what Ava said was true. “Investigate,” I commanded in a sharp, low voice. My assistant immediately understood and slipped away. I’d been expanding the family business overseas for years, with little time to come home. But I called Luna every month. How had I not noticed a single thing was wrong? Luna suddenly looked up, her voice shattered. “Why? We were friends our whole lives. And you’re using photos you secretly took of me as betting chips?” Leo toyed with his chips, sneering. “If you don’t like it, then fold. Give it all to Ava as your apology.” Caleb didn’t even bother to look up. “Cut the crap. Either trade for the chips, or go over there and sell yourself. Strip. Now.” A chorus of vile shouts erupted. “Do it, princess!” “Sleep with me for one night, and I’ll cover your bet!” Luna was trapped, shaking uncontrollably. Just as everyone thought she was about to break, she snapped her head up, a desperate, defiant light in her eyes. “I’m all in.” The hall fell silent. 2 I froze for a second, my fingertips unconsciously tapping against the railing. I knew my sister’s assets down to the last cent. Everything she owned was already on that table. A pang of raw pain shot through me as I looked at her thin, fragile frame. Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone, frantically switching between more than a dozen loan apps. After a full hour, she barely managed to scrape together a hundred thousand dollars. “That’s it?” Caleb scoffed, slamming his glass down. “Ava spends more than that on a spa day.” Ava covered her mouth with a delicate hand, a sweet smile playing on her lips. “Just give up, sister. I’ll be merciful and let you go.” Leo shoved a mountain of chips into the center of the table. “I’ll see your bet, and I’ll raise you double!” The color drained from Luna’s face. “Seeing as you’re so desperate for cash, let me help you out again…” Caleb pressed a button on a remote, and the giant screen flared to life once more. This time, it was a deepfake video. My sister’s face had been flawlessly edited onto another woman’s body. The movements were lewd, the sounds obscene. It was horrifyingly convincing. “That voice… it’s driving me wild. I’m hard already.” “What do you expect from an heiress? She knows how to perform in bed!” “I’ll pay two million for the full collection!” Luna shot to her feet. She was trembling from head to toe, staring in utter disbelief at the two boys she once called her friends. But their eyes were only for Ava, as they gently draped a coat over her shoulders. “Turn it off! Turn it off now!” Luna shrieked. But her voice was swallowed by the frenzied bidding. A waiter bowed, holding out a tablet. “Miss Byrd, would you like to sell the distribution rights to the video?” “Otherwise,” he added coolly, “you can either raise the bet or fold.” Luna’s face was ashen. She covered her face with her hands and began to sob. “I… I really have nothing left…” The men around her stared with greedy eyes, like a pack of wolves circling their dying prey, waiting for the moment she surrendered to tear her apart. My knuckles were white. I was about to stand up. But then I saw Luna, her hands shaking, pull a dull, gray stone from the pocket of her worn-out coat. She placed it carefully on the waiter’s tray. “Trade this… for chips.” A wave of laughter exploded through the room. Ava was bent over, howling with mirth. “Oh my god! Has my sister gone completely insane? Did she just pick up a rock off the ground and try to trade it for chips?” The waiter respectfully carried the stone away. Less than three minutes later, he returned, pushing a cart neatly stacked with five million dollars in chips. “Your chips, Miss Byrd.” The hall went dead silent. Ava’s smile vanished. “That piece of junk is worth five million?!” Leo shot to his feet. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Caleb kicked over a chair. “Get the appraiser out here! Now!” 3 I narrowed my eyes, my fingertips drumming lightly on the armrest. That wasn’t just any stone. That was the private seal of the Frost family. A single impression from that seal could mobilize ten million dollars in assets. Luna would never have used it unless she was pushed to the absolute edge. And these idiots… they only valued it at five million? The cruise ship’s owner was now kneeling before me, trembling so hard that beads of sweat dripped onto the carpet. He didn’t dare wipe them away. Down below, chaos had erupted. “It has been authenticated,” the manager’s voice shook. “This is the private seal of the Frost family from the capital. Its value is ten million dollars. We have exchanged it for five million in chips.” “The Frost family?” someone gasped. “Are these kids insane? Who dares to cross the Frosts?” At the mention of our family name, Ava’s eyes suddenly turned red. “Grandfather Frost has been gravely ill for a long time. My father gave me everything he had to help…” She turned to my sister. “Luna, I even sold my kidney! I really have no more money. We’re sisters, why must we tear each other apart like this? We’re just making a spectacle of ourselves for others.” The wine glass in my hand shattered. Sisters? My assistant leaned in and whispered, “Ava is the illegitimate daughter Mr. Byrd officially recognized six months ago. He even had a DNA test done. He dotes on her.” Fine. Wonderful. Marcus Byrd, you’ve really outdone yourself. I’m gone for a few years, and you dare pull a stunt like this behind my back? You must think I’ve gone soft. I’ll deal with him when I get back. Right now, my sister is the priority. Leo’s face was flush with anger. “Luna, since you insist on being so heartless, don’t blame us for what comes next.” “We’ll match it! Five million!” Leo slammed his hands on the table, only to be told he didn’t have enough chips. He and Caleb exchanged a look, then, through gritted teeth, they put up their own family’s corporate shares. “Double it!” They shoved the chips in front of Ava. “Let’s see you match that!” Ava smiled triumphantly, silently mouthing to my sister: You’re finished. Luna was shaking, the last bit of color draining from her face, leaving only raw despair. Double the bet was ten million. That move had cut off every possible escape route. If she folded, she would not only lose everything on the table, but she wouldn’t even be able to leave this ship in one piece. But she had nothing left to bet. A man shamelessly reached for my sister. “Come on, beautiful. Just sell the photos and the video. You’ll have your chips then, won’t you?” “You’re disgusting!” Luna slapped his hand away. “Bitch!” the man snarled. “You’ll be begging me later!” Caleb toyed with his chips, a cruel smile on his face. “Want to keep going? Then double the bet again.” Ava finally dropped her innocent act, her eyes glittering with venom. “Sell your body, sister. It’s… still worth something, I suppose.” A dozen men closed in, their eyes slick and predatory like snakes. They rubbed their hands together, chanting, “Strip! Strip! Strip! Strip!” “I’ll sign the organ donation contract.” Luna’s voice was a whisper, but it landed like a thunderclap. The entire hall was stunned. “Is she crazy?” “This girl’s got guts! She’s willing to bet her own life!” “Is her body even worth twenty million?” Ava shrieked with laughter. “Sister, what are you thinking? Even if you sold every single part of you, you wouldn’t be worth twenty million!” Before her words faded, a waiter appeared, pushing a cart with twenty million dollars in chips. An uproar swept through the hall. Everyone was shouting in protest. “This is rigged!” “I’m in my prime, and they only valued me at five hundred thousand! How is she worth twenty million?” “If we don’t get an explanation, we’re sinking this damn ship!”

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Serena Shen was, by law, my older sister. She was supposed to hate me. I was the other woman’s daughter. I stole her father. Then, on the day of her engagement party, I slept with her fiancé. I forced her to flee the country. She didn’t return until three years after my death. By then, she was a world-renowned pianist, dating the most sought-after man in the capital. While she moved through parties, a vision of grace and laughter, my bones lay scattered in a dog kennel, gnawed and forgotten. Covered in teeth marks. My soul follows Serena now, watching her search for any trace of me. She will never find me. Because three years ago, I decided to die in her place. 1 Serena searched the entire Shen estate, but there was nothing of me left. Not a single trace. She kicked a table in frustration, a storm brewing within her. It used to be that before she even stepped through the front door, she could hear my forced, theatrical laughter as I chatted with the maids. The moment she entered, she’d see the new gifts I’d deliberately left strewn across the tables, just to show them off. Now, the house was silent, scrubbed clean of my presence. Serena found it unsettling. She rubbed her temples, pushing the thought of me away. She pasted on a smile and turned to face the guests who had been waiting for her. “Serena, you’ve grown even more beautiful! I hear they’re calling you the ‘Maestro of Beauty’ online.” “The wedding must be soon, right? Serena and Mr. Sterling make such a perfect couple. You have to let me be a bridesmaid!” “Serena, for old times’ sake, could I get an autograph? My daughter saw a video of your competition and she’s absolutely obsessed. We have posters of you all over her wall.” I floated silently above, watching Serena maintain her flawless composure, navigating the sea of flattery. It was just like high school. Wherever Serena Shen went, she was the center of the universe. People associated her with perfection, elegance, beauty, ambition. Looking at those fawning classmates surrounding her, a bitter thought crossed my mind. I was a center of attention in high school, too. What did they say when they mentioned my name? The other woman’s daughter. 36D. Slut. Whore. Bitch. Serena, though… Serena was a good person. The only one in the entire school who didn’t look at me through a filter of contempt. The first clean, even fragrant, sanitary pad I ever used was one she lent me. Back then, I used to think, I wish I was Serena’s real sister. Then I could be closer to her. And then, as fate would have it, I became her goddamn sister. My mother was the mistress her father kept on the side. Isn’t life funny? From that day on, our fates were tangled together. In that cold house, we only had each other to lean on. And we only had each other to hate. 2 The thought darkened my spectral form. A classmate standing near Serena shivered, sneezing several times in a row. After finally escaping her old acquaintances, Serena was about to leave when a nervous voice called out to her. It was Leo Vance. He stared at her, his eyes filled with a raw, unabashed awe. “Serena… you’re so beautiful.” “If I hadn’t been seduced by that slut Stella, if I hadn’t made that mistake…” “Would you be marrying me right now?” I rolled my eyes, even in ghost form. If Serena hadn’t been engaged to him, I wouldn’t have given him a second glance. The noisy crowd fell silent. Everyone exchanged awkward glances. The class president tried to laugh it off. “Wow, this wine is strong! Even Leo’s drunk.” Leo shoved him away. “Cut the crap,” he snarled. “If you hadn’t been the one leading the discussion in the dorms about Stella’s ‘perfect body,’ would I have even noticed her enough to dump Serena?” The class president’s face flushed red, then went pale. All eyes in the room shifted to him, a silent judgment passing. So the quiet, respectable class president is like that in private. But then they remembered the object of his supposed fantasies was me, and a knowing, shared smirk spread through the group. I’d seen that smile a thousand times. I could scream back at those who insulted me. I could fight back against those who harassed me. But this silent, secret malice… it left me helpless. Every time we had to run laps in gym class, a group of boys would gather with their basketballs, just watching me, laughing. They’d whisper. They’d point. If you confronted them, they’d just call you conceited. I wanted to carve the flesh from my own chest, then slice the tongues from their mouths. 3 At Leo’s words, Serena bristled like an angry cat. Her eyes swept over the men with their disgusting smiles. “No matter what you think of her, Stella is my sister. How dare you speak of her that way in front of me?” “And as for you, Leo,” she continued, her voice dripping with disdain. “If my father hadn’t introduced us, I wouldn’t have wasted a single glance on you.” “Only a fool like Stella would have been attracted to you.” Leo started to speak, but Serena cut him off, her voice laced with venom. “No, that’s not right. Stella probably wasn’t attracted to you at all.” “She just likes taking my things.” “From my jewelry to my men, Stella wants everything that’s mine.” “The only thing that made you special in her eyes was the fact that you were my fiancé.” “Without that, she wouldn’t have even known you existed.” I cackled from my perch in the air. Serena, my dear sister, you knew me so well. I was only ever interested in what was yours. Leo, furious, took a step forward to argue, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He looked up into the cold, unsmiling face of Liam Sterling. The heir to the Sterling fortune lived up to his reputation. A single glare was enough to make Leo bow his head and stammer an apology. He looked familiar, though. I felt like I’d seen him somewhere before. Probably in a file when I was looking for a powerful man to take me in. I shook my head, focusing on the matter at hand, leaning over Serena’s shoulder to offer my own critique of Leo. Average looks, thick skin. If Dad hadn’t set you up with my sister, I wouldn’t have bothered with you either. But, Serena, you don’t know, do you? This time, I was saving you. Looking at Serena’s distant, cold expression, I couldn’t help but wonder: When she finds out that I, the sister who spent her life competing with her, died for her, will she still be able to wear that mask of proud indifference? 4 This party for Serena was truly grand. The old me would have seen it and thrown a fit, demanding my father host one for me, even bigger and more extravagant than hers. Not anymore. Being a ghost is good. Floating in the air, you see things for what they really are. This wasn’t a welcome-home party. This was a product showcase. My father smiled, presenting Serena to the city’s most influential figures, parading her around like a rare commodity. I was certain that if it weren’t for Liam Sterling’s immense family wealth, those powerful men would have been the potential husbands my father had lined up for her tonight. Oh, Serena. You were so lucky. Three years ago, I shielded you from this. Three years later, Liam Sterling is shielding you. Father raised you well. You know right from wrong, good from evil. So what will you do when you find out that your father not only killed your mother but also had your sister killed? Sister, will you avenge me? Was this all just my fate? The party ended. Serena asked our father where I was. He paused. His eyes filled with disgust, as if she’d mentioned something filthy. “Don’t bring up that ungrateful girl. You know what your sister is like.” “She’s probably shacked up with some man again.” I looked at my father, at his calm face tinged with revulsion, and felt nothing. My dear father. Why won’t you tell my sister that I’m dead? On the day I died, you accepted a great deal of benefits with a completely straight face. That fool, Serena, didn’t question it. She just turned and went upstairs. Before closing her door, she glanced back at him. “Tomorrow is Mom’s death anniversary.” In her room, she pulled out a Polaroid we had taken together. Two young girls, smiling brightly for the camera. Seeing it, I was stunned. I thought she would have torn it up long ago. When we took that photo, I didn’t know my mother was her father’s mistress. I was just grateful to Serena for defending me when I was accused of stealing money. During a school trip, I’d earned sixty dollars washing dishes and used it to pay someone to take two Polaroids of us together. I taped my copy to my desk. It was like my good luck charm. No one wanted to cross Serena Shen. So when they saw that picture, their malice towards me would instinctively recede. When I got home, I showed the photo to my mother. And it was that photo that plunged both Serena and me into hell. 5 My mother, Maria, was a young and beautiful woman. She always said calling her “Mom” made her feel old, so I should call her Maria. She was brave enough to take me into the fields to catch frogs and fierce enough to curse out other parents for me. I loved her very much. But maybe it was because I secretly called her Mom in my heart, she aged quickly. Maria had a deep reverence for education. She always talked about what would have happened if she’d stayed in college. As a child, I thought she was just bragging. If she was really top of her class in high school, how could she be so poor now? So poor that she would stare at a pair of discounted gloves in the winter for so long the shopkeeper would have to ask her to move, only for her to look at her own red, swollen hands and decide she could endure it until spring. Years later, I finally understood. I was the greatest misfortune of Maria’s life. Her springtime ended forever at eighteen. After that, there was only winter. While I was being bullied at school for my developing body, Maria was enduring the torment of a terminal illness. The day after seeing that Polaroid, she went to Mrs. Shen and confessed everything. Mrs. Shen was a kind woman. She brought me into the Shen home, made sure I was fed and clothed, and used the family’s influence to deal with the bullies who had tormented me. On the first day of my new, better life, Maria committed suicide by taking sleeping pills. She had cancer and couldn’t afford the treatment. She used her own terminal diagnosis to buy me a place in the Shen family. The sleeping pills were the most expensive meal 34-year-old Maria ever had. In her suicide note, she told me to live a good life, to not be a mistress like her. She said she would be watching over me from heaven. The only thing she left me was a savings book with a balance of $34,682.34. Maria had taken care of everyone. Everyone except herself. The memories wrapped around me. I was a ghost, yet I felt a pain so sharp I couldn’t breathe. Did I fail to listen to her? Is that why I can’t even enter the cycle of reincarnation to see her again? Is that why I’m doomed to float by Serena’s side as a ghost? Ghosts don’t dream. I haven’t seen Maria in two years. Serena raised her hand, about to rip the Polaroid in two. But in the end, her eyes red, she placed it on the very bottom shelf of her bookcase. The day I lost my mother, Serena lost her father. After being exposed, Mr. Shen began to openly parade his mistresses. I became twisted with hatred. The Shen family had taken my only mother from me. So I poured all my hate onto Serena. I started to take her things, openly and secretly. Her jewelry, her admirers. Anything she had, I had to have. Until, one year later, on the very same day, Serena lost her mother. Serena should have hated me. But instead, she saved me. Again and again. 6 The day after her return, Serena drove with Liam to visit her mother’s grave. The headstone was pristine compared to the others, as if someone cleaned it regularly. Serena sat before the grave with a bouquet of flowers, murmuring about her years abroad. Liam stood silently beside her, holding an umbrella over her head. In a place they couldn’t see, I knelt and kowtowed twice to Mrs. Shen’s grave. Thank you for taking care of me in your home. By dying for Serena, I hope I have repaid your kindness. When Serena left, I floated along behind her. Halfway out of the cemetery, she suddenly stopped.

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1 My brother and I were transported into one of those trashy, high-society romance novels. When our mission was over, I chose to leave. He, however, had fallen for the story’s obsessive female lead and decided to stay for her. Eight years later, the System informed me that she had thrown him into a psychiatric hospital. He had three days left to live. When I arrived, he was strapped to a hospital bed, his eyes vacant, muttering my name over and over again. Meanwhile, his loving CEO wife was planning a wedding of the century with her one true love, the male lead. I looked at my brother’s hands—hands that once commanded a grand piano—and saw nothing but a horrifying tapestry of track marks. “You came… I knew you’d come…” He strained, turning his head with the last ounce of his strength. “I was such a fool. I thought my devotion, my presence, was the ultimate declaration of love. But I was just a stepping stone for her.” “Take me home, Raymond. I don’t want to die here…” “Roberta…” My voice was a raw, trembling whisper. “Of course. We’re going home.” Blinking back the hot tears that threatened to spill, I forced a broken smile onto my face. “I’m here to take you home!” His clouded eyes shifted, as if he was trying to smile back, but only a single, rigid muscle in his cheek twitched. “Raymond… Raymond…” His voice was so faint I could barely hear it, each word a final, desperate gasp of life. My hands trembled as I reached for the leather restraints digging into his wrists. They were embedded so deeply into his flesh that dark, crusted scabs had formed around them. A doctor in a white coat entered, his face a mask of indifference. He shot me a cold look. “Who are you? Visiting hours are over.” I snapped my head around, the ice in my eyes making him flinch and take an involuntary step back. “What did you do to him?” The doctor adjusted his glasses, reciting a rehearsed, clinical line. “The patient suffers from severe delusions and exhibits violent tendencies. These are necessary protective measures.” “His legal guardian signed the consent forms. All treatments are administered in accordance with hospital policy.” Guardian? That monster, Seraphina Vance? My gaze fell back to Roberta. I gently pushed up the sleeve of his worn hospital gown. The hands that once danced across ivory keys, weaving the world’s most beautiful melodies, were now just a skeletal ruin of bruised skin and puncture wounds, new marks layered over old. There wasn’t an inch of undamaged skin. “Does it hurt?” I choked out the words. He didn’t seem to hear me. He just stared at me, his lips moving soundlessly. “She’s getting married… It’s all over the news… Her and Liam. They look so perfect together…” “Don’t say another word!” I cut him off, my voice sharp, my heart shattering into a million pieces. The doctor knocked impatiently on the doorframe. “Ms. Vance gave specific instructions not to agitate him. Sir, you need to leave. Now.” I ignored him, leaning in close to whisper in Roberta’s ear. “Roberta, hang on. I’m getting you out of here.” “We’ll go back to our own world. There’s no Seraphina, no Liam. Just us.” “I even booked you a world tour. Your fans, they’re all waiting for you.” At the mention of the piano, a flicker of light sparked in his empty eyes, only to be extinguished a moment later. “My hands… they’re ruined…” he mumbled. “They give me injections… shock therapy… My mind… it’s not right anymore. I can’t remember the music…” I bit down on my lip so hard that the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. I couldn’t cry. Roberta needed me to be strong. “It’s okay. I’ll remember for you,” I said, clutching his ice-cold hand. “I don’t care about any of that. I just need you to live. Let’s go home, okay?” “Okay… home…” The last flicker of light in his eyes died out. His head lolled to the side, coming to rest on my shoulder. In that instant, the world went silent. The only person I had ever cared for, my only anchor in this universe, had died so quietly in my arms. And at that very moment, on the other side of the city, Seraphina Vance was throwing a lavish engagement party for the love of her life. The television showed her radiant face, her smile full of adoration as she stood beside Liam, a picture-perfect couple. They were celebrating. I held Roberta’s cooling body and a slow, cold smile spread across my face. You dragged him through hell? Then I’ll turn this world into your own personal inferno. The Vance Corporation’s engagement party of the century was held at the most exclusive seven-star hotel on the bay. The ballroom glittered with high society, a sea of couture gowns and expensive champagne. Seraphina, draped in a bespoke gown, gracefully accepted the endless stream of congratulations. Beside her, Liam wore a pristine white suit, his smile as pure and innocent as a prince from a fairy tale. “Seraphina, thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” Liam said softly, his eyes brimming with love. She gazed back at him, her voice thick with affection. “For you, my darling, anything is worth it.” BOOM! The grand, gilded doors of the ballroom burst open with a deafening bang. Every head turned. I stood in the doorway, dressed in a stark black suit that was a stark contrast to the festive opulence of the room. My expression was darker than the suit I wore, my gaze a dagger aimed straight at the couple on the dais. “Raymond?!” Seraphina’s eyes widened, her pupils contracting in shock the moment she recognized me. So, she remembered. Eight years ago, Roberta and I appeared in her life together. But I had chosen to leave. Liam clutched Seraphina’s arm, affecting a look of startled vulnerability. “Seraphina, who is this gentleman…?” “Who are you? Who let you in? Security!” Seraphina’s assistant immediately stepped forward, her voice sharp and commanding. A team of guards quickly moved to surround me, ready to drag me out. I swept a cold glance over them and uttered a single word. “Leave.” The hulking guards, professionals trained for violence, were frozen by the sheer menace in my eyes. They hesitated, suddenly unwilling to touch me. I began to walk, my leather shoes clicking with sharp, deliberate taps against the marble floor as I advanced toward the stage. “I brought you a gift, Seraphina.” With that, I reached into my suit jacket and produced a small, simple urn. I placed it gently on the crimson-draped table. The stark white of the box was a glaring wound against the sea of festive red. “You lunatic! You’re insane!” Seraphina’s face turned ashen. She swiped the urn off the table, sending it crashing to the floor. The ashes within spilled out across the pristine marble. “Ah!” Liam cried out, his face pale as he scrambled to hide behind Seraphina. My eyes fixed on the gray dust on the floor, and a hot, red wave of fury washed over me. “Seraphina,” I said, my voice a low growl, each word forced through clenched teeth. “You personally shoved Roberta into hell. And now you shatter even the last peace he had left?” “What nonsense are you spouting?!” she shrieked. “Roberta had a psychotic break! His death has nothing to do with me!” “Nothing to do with you?” I laughed, a sound devoid of any humor. “Eight years of his life, paving your way to the top, deflecting every corporate attack aimed at you, taking all the blame for your dirty work. And his reward? You label him a madman?” “You locked him away in that hellhole, torturing him with drugs and electroshock day after day. You destroyed his hands, shattered his mind, all to make room for your precious boy toy!” My voice rose with every word, each syllable a sledgehammer blow landing on the hearts of the listening guests. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The looks directed at Seraphina and Liam began to shift, filled with suspicion and dawning horror. “Lies! All of it!” Seraphina was losing control. “Get this maniac out of my sight! Throw him out!” This time, the guards charged. A predatory gleam entered my eyes. I sidestepped their clumsy rush, a blur of motion. In the split second of their confusion, I moved. A swift wrist-lock, a clean takedown. In less than ten seconds, all four guards were writhing on the floor, groaning in pain. The ballroom fell into a stunned, dead silence. No one had expected this slender man to possess such terrifying skill. I turned my attention back to Seraphina, a chilling smile playing on my lips. “Seraphina. And you, Liam…” I pointed a finger at them, sealing their fate. “I will not only ruin you, leave you with nothing… I will make you feel every ounce of the agony Roberta endured.” “And I will make you kneel at his grave and beg for a forgiveness you’ll never receive until the day you die!” The engagement party was a disaster. Seraphina and Liam became the laughingstock of the city. The next day, the Vance Corporation’s PR machine went into overdrive. The internet was flooded with stories designed to discredit me. [Mysterious Man Crashes High-Profile Engagement, Spurned Ex-Lover Suspected?] [Insider Reveals: Man Identified as Raymond Croft Has Family History of Mental Illness. Ms. Vance’s Compassion Was Her Undoing.] [Raymond Croft: The Man Who Vanished Eight Years Ago. A Troubled Past, A Violent Present.] They were painting me as the lunatic, framing Roberta’s death as the inevitable outcome of his own fragile mind. Public opinion began to sway, and sympathy started pouring in for the “victims,” Seraphina and Liam. Liam even gave a tearful interview, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with sorrow. “I… I don’t know Mr. Croft, and I don’t understand why he harbors such animosity towards me. As for Roberta… my heart breaks for him. Seraphina did so much for him over the years. We all just wanted him to get better…” What a perfect, pitiful performance. A true wolf in sheep’s clothing. In her office, Seraphina scrolled through the comments online, a sliver of relief easing the tension in her face. “Where is Raymond Croft now?” she asked her assistant. “We can’t find him. It’s like he vanished into thin air. He’s not on any surveillance footage, no digital footprint, nothing.” Seraphina’s brow furrowed again. The man had been an enigma eight years ago; now, he was an unfathomable phantom. “Find him. I don’t care what it takes.” She had no idea I hadn’t gone anywhere. At that very moment, I was sitting in a quiet café, my fingers flying across the keyboard of my laptop. On the screen, cascading lines of code flowed like a waterfall. “You want to play the media game?” I murmured to myself, my eyes cold with contempt. “Then let’s see how you handle a real storm.” At three o’clock that afternoon, the Vance Corporation held an emergency press conference. Seraphina and Liam sat side-by-side, ready to play the victims for a national audience and scrub their reputations clean. “Regarding the recent rumors, I would like to clarify…” Seraphina began. Suddenly, every screen in the conference hall—the massive displays, the reporters’ laptops, their phones—flickered and changed. A high-definition video began to play. The scene was a hallway in the psychiatric hospital. In the grainy footage, Liam was speaking to a doctor, his face twisted with malice. “Up the dosage. I want him to be a drooling vegetable, incapable of a single coherent thought.” The doctor hesitated. “Mr. Sterling, at this rate, the patient could die.” Liam sneered. “Even better. A clean slate. The man of the Vance family can only be me, Liam Sterling. That worthless piece of trash, Roberta Croft? He was never worthy.” The scene cut. Now, it was a conversation between Liam and Roberta. “Don’t blame me, Roberta,” Liam said, a sickly sweet smile on his face. “You just got in my way. Seraphina has always loved me. You were just the stepping stone she needed for her career. Now that she’s on top, it’s time for that stone to be kicked aside.” In the video, Roberta struggled, shouting in protest, but two orderlies pinned him down, forcing him into the electroshock therapy room. His agonized screams echoed through the speakers, filling the press conference with a sound of pure horror. The reporters went wild. A blinding storm of camera flashes erupted, all aimed at the blood-drained faces on the stage. “No… that’s not real! It’s a fake! It’s been doctored!” Liam shrieked, his composure completely shattered. Seraphina was stunned into silence, staring at the venomous man on the screen, unable to reconcile him with the pure, innocent angel she thought she loved. The video ended with a final message from me, my voice a cold, synthesized tone that chilled the room to the bone: “Did you see that, Seraphina? That is the man you swore to protect for the rest of your life. You’re not just blind, you’re blind to the core. Consider this my first gift. You should be excited. The real show is just getting started.”

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Liam lost his memory. He’s stuck at nineteen—the year he was the biggest jerk I knew. When I went to see him, he looked at me like I was a complete stranger, his eyes cold and distant. “Wife? You’ve gotta be kidding me. No way I’m married!” Seeing how much he resisted the idea, I figured it was best to leave for now. But after that one meeting, he started showing up everywhere I went, a dozen times a day, always claiming it was a coincidence. A month later, he was proudly showing my number to his friends. They were floored. “Wait, dude… you’ve been busting your ass for a month just to get your own wife’s phone number?” 1 The moment I heard about Liam’s car accident, I booked the first flight back. When I got to the hospital, he was already asleep. The doctor said it was nothing life-threatening, just a concussion that had triggered a temporary amnesia. As for how temporary… it could be a month, a year or two, or even longer. His memory was frozen at nineteen. Back when he was an absolute nightmare. His friends warned me that he had no memory of our marriage and that it would take time for him to accept it. I was prepared for that. After all, he hadn’t exactly been thrilled when he first found out he had to marry me. He wasn’t as hostile as he was now, but he was still ice-cold. Forcing a nineteen-year-old mind to accept the reality of a wife was, admittedly, a tall order. I took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll come back tomorrow. Just give me a call when he wakes up.” “You got it, Mia.” The next day, the call didn’t come from Chris or the guys. It came from the hospital. “Ms. Evans? We were wondering if you could contact your husband. We’ve searched the entire hospital, but we can’t find him. The security cameras in the hallways didn’t catch him leaving, either.” There was a pause. “We think he might have climbed out the window.” My breath caught in my throat. It was hard to imagine the composed man I’d been married to for years doing something so reckless. I’d heard stories that the twenty-nine-year-old Liam was a world away from his nineteen-year-old self, but I never imagined the difference was this stark. After leaving my office, I called Chris. He told me that after his great escape, Liam had gone straight to a private lounge to meet them. When I arrived, they were all in a private room, with Liam forcing drinks on them. “Liam, man, I really can’t drink anymore.” “Me neither, dude. I quit drinking years ago.” “You should slow down too, Liam. Mia’s gonna have our heads for this.” “Yeah, seriously. It’s been a day. She’s probably worried sick.” … Liam just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Mia this, Mia that. Nice try, guys. Just another excuse to get out of drinking with me.” Chris looked like he was about to cry. “Liam, do you really not remember you have a wife?” “Cut the crap. Marriage is for suckers. Why would I ever give up my freedom like that? Besides, guys who are whipped have no spine!” In Liam’s mind, Chris was still the rich kid who’d pull pranks on him, so of course, he didn’t believe a word. The sound of the door opening was lost in the thumping bass of the music. Chris was the first to see me standing in the doorway. A chill ran down his spine, and he shot up straight. “Liam, dude, you gotta stop talking.” Just then, I walked into the room and picked up a bottle from the table. Everyone, except Liam, sat bolt upright. Liam leaned back against the sofa, looking up at me with annoyance. “Don’t the servers here know how to knock?” His words trailed off the second he saw my face. Our eyes met, and suddenly he was fumbling with his tie and shirt, first buttoning the top two buttons of his collar, then deciding against it and unbuttoning them again. He even tugged the collar down a bit, just enough to hint at the lean muscle of his chest. Nineteen-year-old Liam was quite the show-off. Chris and the others, unable to watch him dig his own grave any deeper, were about to say something, but a single glare from me silenced them. As I turned to leave, I heard a collective sigh of relief from inside the room. “Dude, why is your face so red?” Liam sounded personally offended. “Me? Red? No way!” Luke, ever the dense one, immediately turned on his phone’s front-facing camera. “It is, man! It’s super red. Don’t tell me you know she’s—” “Ahem.” Chris cut him off with a sharp cough. They were all more scared of me than they were of Liam. “Must be something in this booze,” Liam grumbled, picking up his glass only to slam it back down. “I’m done. Going home.” 2 Of course, the “home” Liam was talking about wasn’t the one we shared. He went back to his parents’ old estate and, unable to get the door open, hopped the fence to get in. He was nearly mistaken for a burglar. Luckily, the security guard had good eyes. Liam was unharmed, but he did manage to wake up his two parents, both well into their sixties. “You little brat! What are you doing here in the middle of the night? Trying to dig up your ancestors’ graves?” “Oh, honey, you’re forgetting. Our son is supposed to be in the hospital. He had an accident, lost his memory. He probably doesn’t even remember his own home.” “Ah, right you are. You little punk! Forgetting Mia, of all people. You’ve got some nerve!” Liam’s father snatched a feather duster from a nearby vase and went straight for his son’s behind. The twenty-nine-year-old Liam probably would have taken the hit. But the nineteen-year-old Liam knew exactly how to dodge his father’s wrath. He scrambled up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door shut. “Mia, Lia, whatever! Are you trying to set me up with another engagement? You tried to sell me off to some heiress when I was nineteen, remember? I can’t believe you’re still trying to pull this crap now that I’m twenty-nine!” His father roared from the bottom of the stairs, “You ungrateful, irresponsible punk! I wish you’d just stay away from Mia and stop wasting her time!” Liam just scoffed. “Fine by me.” That night, my best friend Sophia came over to keep me company and, more importantly, to rage on my behalf. “You should just tell him the truth, you know? For all we know, the little jerk is faking this whole amnesia thing!” she declared. “Or better yet, let’s go over to his parents’ place right now, stuff him in a sack, and beat some sense into him!” It would be a lie to say I wasn’t angry. My perfectly good husband was out all night, insisting he was single and acting like marrying me was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. “But seriously,” Sophia said, her tone softening, “what if he never gets his memory back? Are you two just going to stay like this forever?” “If he really never remembers,” I said darkly, “then I’ll just have to stuff him in a sack and lock him in the house.” 3 Work was slow the next day, so I agreed to help Sophia out at her newly opened bakery. I’d just arrived when Liam’s mom called. “Mia, sweetie, there’s something I think you should know,” she said, her voice a hushed whisper. “This morning, I saw Liam leaving the house dressed… well, exceptionally flashy. He even used hair gel and cologne. I’m worried he’s—” The door creaked open, and in walked Liam. It was the grand opening, and the bakery was crowded, but he stood out immediately. It was impossible to miss him. He was wearing baggy jeans with about five too many pockets, a loose black t-shirt, and a thick silver chain around his neck. He was dressed like he’d just stepped out of a ‘90s music video. “It’s okay, Mom,” I said into the phone. “I’ve got this.” He lost his memory, not me. I remembered everything. I picked up a tray of samples and walked right past him, deliberately offering them to every customer around him. Just as he finally reached for the last piece on the tray, Sophia swooped in and snatched it. “Delicious!” she said, chewing dramatically. “I really am a genius.” She then turned to Liam with wide, innocent eyes. “Oh, I am so sorry! I didn’t realize you wanted to try one. But hey, we have plenty of new items you could buy to take home.” A muscle twitched in Liam’s jaw. Sophia pressed on. “Or… were you just here to mooch free samples?” And just like that, Liam slapped down his card, bought a $2,000 membership, and stalked out with five pineapple buns and a face like thunder. Sophia waved the receipt from her first big sale. “Thanks, girl. Best opening gift ever.” 4 Liam sat in the private lounge, staring mournfully at the five pineapple buns on the table. “Hey, isn’t this from Sophia’s new bakery?” Chris asked, taking a bite of a bun before Liam grabbed him and pulled him down onto the sofa. “What do you think of this outfit?” Liam demanded. Chris answered honestly. “Very… nineteen-year-old you.” Liam frowned. “Am I old now?” Luke’s eyes were wide with admiration. “No way, man! You’re the best of all of us at staying handsome. You’re, like, ruggedly hot.” “But I’m twenty-nine now,” Liam lamented. “That’s basically thirty. A thirty-year-old guy is already past his prime. Wait a minute—she doesn’t know how old I am, does she?” The pineapple bun dropped from Chris’s hand. “She? Liam, don’t tell me this ‘she’ is a woman.” Liam gave a nonchalant hum. “Yeah. She’s pretty good at playing hard to get.” “Holy crap! Someone tell Mia! Liam’s got a crush on someone else!” “I’m on it, I’m on it! Texting her now.” “What does she look like, man? You can’t just go around doing this!” “You guys saw her at the lounge yesterday,” Liam said, oblivious. “And it’s not a crush. I’m never getting married! But… I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as her. Her face is so small, smaller than my hand, and she seems so gentle…” Owen, who was in the middle of typing a frantic message, froze. His fingers hovered over the screen as he stared at Liam in disbelief. Then, he quickly deleted everything in the chat box. “The girl from the lounge yesterday? That was—!” The alarm bells stopped ringing. Chris and Luke exchanged a look. “So, do you know her name?” Chris asked. Liam shook his head. “You guys know her?” The three of them engaged in a silent, frantic conversation with their eyes before pushing the unluckiest of the bunch, Luke, forward. Luke’s face was stretched into a pained smile. “Yeah, uh, her name is Mia Evans. We know the bakery owner, Sophia, and Mia is her best friend.” Liam let out a soft “Ah.” “So that’s it.” He hummed a little tune as he left. “These buns are pretty good. I’ll bring you guys some more over the next few days.” The remaining friends looked at each other, horrified. “You guys think when Liam gets his memory back, he’s going to throw us all in a river to feed the fish?” “Nah, we’re good. Mia told us not to say anything. As long as she’s got our backs, Liam won’t do anything to us.” “Good point.” 5 The next day, Liam didn’t just show up at the bakery himself; he brought Chris, Luke, and Owen with him. Each of them bought a $2,000 gift card, instantly becoming the bakery’s top VVIPs. Sophia’s grin was so wide it threatened to split her face. “Well, look what the cat dragged in! If it isn’t my favorite cash cows. Come on over, have a seat.” But Liam was distracted, his eyes constantly darting toward the kitchen in the back. When he didn’t see the person he was looking for, his shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Don’t you know the owner?” he asked Luke. Luke, mid-chew, looked up with a blank expression. “Huh?” “It’s been a while, right? Don’t you need to catch up?” Chris burst out laughing and shoved Luke out of his seat. Luke scratched his head, vaguely understanding, and walked over to Sophia. Chris and the others mouthed frantically behind him: “Ask about her!!!” Luke nodded. “Hey, how come Mia isn’t here today?” “Her? Oh, she’s at work.” Luke nodded again, then turned back to Liam. “Hey, man. Mia’s not here today.” Liam stared at him. “…I didn’t ask about her.” With that, he got up and walked out. Sophia was speechless. “Seriously? How on earth did he manage to win Mia over?” The others just shook their heads in unison. “We have no idea.” 6 For the next week, Liam made a habit of “passing by” my office building. An early morning jog, a casual stroll. He’d see me, then quickly look away, pretending he didn’t know me. An evening run, another pass by the front of my building. This time, he managed a quick greeting. “Fancy seeing you here.” It was the rainy season, a miserable stretch of wind and downpours. I thought that would surely deter him. But no. The next rainy day, there he was, jogging in a full-on rain slicker. Don’t ask. It was his “passion for fitness.” This went on for days, and I never once initiated a conversation. Back in their usual lounge, Liam sat with Chris. The table wasn’t covered in empty bottles anymore. It was covered in bags of pastries. Chris unwrapped a napoleon and took a bite. “Hey, this new napoleon is pretty good.” “Yeah, yeah. You said the same thing when Sophia gave you the burnt scraps.” “It’s called being low-maintenance! Hey, Liam, want a piece? It’s really good.” Liam wasn’t in the mood. Chris found it strange. For days, Liam had been dragging them to the lounge only to sit in moody silence. But it was obvious something was eating at him. “You’ve been acting weird lately, man,” Chris ventured. “Is it because of Mia?” Liam didn’t answer directly. He just unwrapped a pastry and asked casually, “Since you guys know Sophia, you must know a little about Mia, right?” “I guess.” Luke glanced at Liam. “A little. We’re closer with her husband.” Liam was stunned. “She’s married?” Chris mumbled through a mouthful of pastry, “Yep. Though he’s probably about to be her ex-husband.” Liam looked as though his world had just ended. But within a minute, he’d already rationalized it. “Two people who aren’t in love shouldn’t be forced to stay together. That’s fair. I support her divorce.” Owen, munching on a taro tart, started rambling, “Mia likes guys who are handsome, don’t smoke or drink, and are, you know, mature and stable.” “Totally!” … The more they talked, the more annoyed Liam became. “I didn’t ask you guys.” They all exchanged a look. They honestly had no idea how they ever put up with him back when they were nineteen. 7 After lunch, my assistant mentioned that Liam was downstairs. No one at the office knew about his amnesia; they just assumed we’d had a fight. When I went down, I saw him pacing back and forth in front of the entrance, trying his best to look like a casual passerby. “I heard you were looking for me?” I walked toward him just as a breeze lifted my hair and sent my skirt swirling in a perfect arc. A faint blush crept up Liam’s ears. He quickly looked away. “No, I wasn’t.” He didn’t even realize he had started walking with his arm and leg on the same side moving in unison. I smiled. “Oh.” “I work here, and you just happen to be… taking a walk? What a coincidence.” His ears turned a deeper shade of red. I never thought I’d see the day the twenty-nine-year-old Liam, the king of dirty talk in bed, would blush like a schoolboy. “I hope my being here isn’t causing you any trouble. The people in your office saw me.” “Why would it be trouble? They all know you.” A single leaf drifted down and landed on his shoulder. I reached up to brush it away. Liam ducked his head, looking like a flustered boy who’d just been teased. “This isn’t right,” he muttered, yet he didn’t move an inch away from my touch. “What’s not right about it?” I leaned in closer, my breath ghosting over his earlobe. “Aren’t you trying to win me over?” His entire body went rigid, and he stumbled back a step. “You knew?” I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Of course. You want to pursue me. But you have to give me some time to think about it, right?” Liam clenched his fists. “Okay.” 8 I met Liam when he was twenty-seven. The young, accomplished, and impossibly poised CEO of a public company. We were set up. I had actually seen him once before our date. He was arguing with his parents about the very setup they were planning. He didn’t want to get married. His father insisted that at twenty-seven, he was running out of time. He even pointed out that he and Liam’s mother had gotten married right after college, unlike their son, who apparently no woman wanted. That was the first time I had ever seen the unflappable Liam lose his composure. He couldn’t win against his family, so he met with me. His attitude was cool and detached. But the very next day, his father showed up at my family’s door with a bride price. After we got married, Liam rarely showed his emotions. We were like respectful roommates, except for when we were… fulfilling our marital duties. But that was fine. A relationship could be built slowly. Dating the nineteen-year-old version of Liam felt like a chance to make up for the romance we’d missed by getting married so quickly. And this stage—the flirting, the uncertainty—was always the most intoxicating part. 9 “What’s got you in such a good mood, man? You’re glowing. You even bought us dinner.” Liam casually angled his phone so the screen was visible. My picture was his wallpaper. “I got her number on messaging.” Chris glanced at it, and his vision went black for a second. “Dude… haha… congratulations.” Just then, two new messages popped up on Liam’s screen. A slow smile spread across his face. He stood up. “I’ve got to go. The bill’s paid. You guys take your time.” After he left, the room was silent. “Are you kidding me?” Luke finally burst out. “He’s been moping around and sneaking out for days… all to get his own legal wife’s contact info?” “…” Liam started showing up at my office constantly, asking me to lunch, asking if I had plans after work. But his nineteen-year-old idea of dating was stuck at dinner and a movie. Anything beyond that… he was clueless. During a movie, I gently brushed the back of his hand with mine. He instantly snatched his hand back and shoved it in his pocket. When he was driving me home, I asked him to buckle my seatbelt. He did it with his body held ramrod straight, managing not to touch me once. This couldn’t go on. “Liam,” I said one evening, “I have a husband. You know that, right?” He looked down, the corners of his eyes turning red. His voice was barely a whisper. “Could you please stop toying with me?” I took his hand. “Actually—” Before I could finish, his phone rang. It was his college-aged cousin. “Liam! You said you were gonna bring my sister-in-law to visit. When are you guys coming? I’ve been waiting forever!” The muscles in Liam’s face froze. “Sister-in-law?” “Yeah, what’s wrong? Bro, I heard you were in an accident. Don’t tell me you actually scrambled your brains. What’s up with you? I know they say you and her aren’t super close, but you can’t have forgotten something as big as your own marriage, right?” Until that moment, it had never once crossed Liam’s mind that he might actually have a wife. His entire world came crashing down. He ripped his hand from mine. “I’m so sorry!”

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My daughter’s words before bed sent a chill down my spine. “At naptime, the teacher pats us, one by one. After she pats you to death, she puts you on your little bed.” I patiently tried to explain. “Honey, that’s just how she helps you fall asleep. Once you’re sleeping, she lays you down on your bed.” She nodded, though I wasn’t sure she understood. The next morning, a message appeared in the preschool parents’ group chat. It was from Lily Miller’s mother. She said that after her daughter fell asleep last night, she never woke up again. She was dead. I told myself it was just a tragic accident. But then, one by one, the children in my daughter’s class began to die in their sleep. And everyone finally realized this wasn’t an accident. It was a long-awaited, meticulously planned revenge. 1 My daughter, Joy, was curled up beside me, begging for one more story. I’d just finished Little Red Riding Hood, and I added my usual warning about strangers being wolves in disguise. “Okay, Mommy,” she chirped sweetly. I gently patted her back, urging her to sleep. “Mommy, my teacher pats us, too,” she said, her eyes suddenly snapping open. The abruptness of it startled me. Still, I kept my voice soft. “Does she pat you just like Mommy does?” Joy sat up and shook her head. “No. Before our afternoon nap, she holds each of us and pats us. After she pats you to death, she puts you on your little bed.” She described it with such vivid innocence. I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. My neighbor, a preschool teacher, used to tell me funny stories about the things kids say. I never thought I’d hear one from my own daughter. “Sweetheart,” I explained gently, “she’s just helping you fall asleep. When you’re sleeping, she puts you down for your nap. She’s not ‘patting you to death.’” She seemed to accept that, finally lying down to sleep. I stretched, ready to turn in myself. Before bed, I did my usual scroll through social media. I saw a new post from Joy’s homeroom teacher. It was just a single character: Today was the first day of school for the little ones. It must have been chaos. The number probably meant she’d survived day one. I was exhausted after a day with just one child; I couldn’t imagine handling twenty of them with only two other teachers. Feeling a pang of sympathy, I liked her post, scrolled a little more, and then turned off my phone, letting sleep take over. 2 The alarm blared the next morning. I scrambled to get Joy dressed and ready for school. Just as we were about to leave, I saw a notification from the parent group chat. Assuming it was a morning announcement from the teacher, I opened it. But it was a message from a parent listed as “Lily Miller’s Mom.” [My daughter came home yesterday saying she was sleepy. She didn’t even eat dinner, just went straight to bed. This morning, I couldn’t wake her up. I checked on her and… she wasn’t breathing. She’s gone.] My mind immediately flashed back to what Joy had said last night. Could she have been telling the truth? The group chat exploded. Parents flooded the chat with condolences, asking what had happened. Lily’s mom quickly sent a voice message. [My daughter has always been perfectly healthy. She was fine when I dropped her off yesterday. But when she came home, all she did was complain about being tired. Her father and I just thought she was worn out from her first day. We didn’t think anything of it.] [I never imagined she would just… pass away in her sleep. We just want to know what she ate at school. What happened? We need an explanation from the teachers!] Her voice was choked with sobs. As a mother, my heart broke for her. I sent a simple hug emoji. She replied with a quiet “thank you.” Finally, the homeroom teacher responded. [Mrs. Miller, what Lily ate and drank yesterday was the same as all the other children. She did not fall or injure herself in any way. If you require the school’s security footage, we are prepared to provide it.] The reply felt so cold, so devoid of empathy. A child in her class dies after her first day of school, and the teacher offers not a single word of comfort—just a clinical, defensive offer of surveillance footage, as if her only concern was deflecting blame. I was about to type something in support of Lily’s mom, but I saw the teacher had already removed her from the group. An official announcement immediately followed: [Group chat is for school-related discussions only. Please be mindful of this policy.] [Understood.] [Understood.] … The replies cascaded down the screen. I knew it was useless to say anything now, so I quietly added my own [Understood.] to the chain. We were running late. Pushing the tragedy of Lily Miller from my mind, I hurried Joy to the preschool. Her teacher was there to greet us. Joy clutched her hand, her lip trembling as she gave me a reluctant goodbye. I waved, promising I’d be the first one there to pick her up, offered the teacher a polite smile, and turned to leave. 3 Back home, I couldn’t settle. I kept checking the group chat, my stomach in knots. But it was silent. No one mentioned Lily again. It was just an accident, I told myself, over and over. A horrible, tragic accident. 4 I arrived at the preschool well before dismissal time, my anxiety getting the better of me. As I approached the school gates, I heard it: the sounds of a raw, heart-wrenching wail. The voice was familiar. It sounded like Lily’s mom from the voice message. I parked my scooter and moved closer. A group of people held a large banner that read: OUR DAUGHTER DIED AFTER ONE DAY AT THIS SCHOOL. WE DEMAND JUSTICE! It was Lily’s family. A crowd of onlookers was filming with their phones while school security guards tried to clear a path. “It’s dismissal time,” one of the guards pleaded. “You’re blocking the entrance for other parents. Please move to the side.” Other parents, anxious to retrieve their children, started to complain. “Come on, the teacher already said in the group chat that the school wasn’t responsible. Don’t hold the rest of us up.” Lily’s mom whipped her head around to face the parent who had spoken. I recognized her from her profile picture—it was Lisa Davis’s mom, the first one to reply “Understood” in the chat. “Easy for you to say,” Lily’s mom snarled, her eyes burning with hatred. “You have no compassion. Let’s see you say that when it’s your daughter who’s dead.” The venom in her gaze made my blood run cold. Joy’s words echoed in my head again. No, no, it can’t be. I pushed the thought away. Lily’s death was an accident. “How dare you say something so vile?” Lisa’s mom shrieked, her face turning crimson. “Just because your daughter had bad luck, you’re going to curse mine?” If another parent hadn’t held her back, I think she would have slapped her. I couldn’t stand to hear her talk like that. What mother could bear to hear her child spoken of so cruelly? Lily’s mom certainly couldn’t. She threw down her sign and lunged at Lisa’s mom. The other woman flinched, screaming for security. The scene descended into chaos. I didn’t want to be late picking up Joy, so I slipped past the commotion and into the school. I collected my daughter from her teacher, and we headed back out. The two mothers were still screaming at each other. Joy heard Lily’s name and whispered, “Mommy, was Lily the one the teacher patted to death?” My heart stopped. “Why do you say that, honey?” “Because she was the first one the teacher patted yesterday,” she answered, her face a mask of pure innocence. A horrifying impulse took over. I asked a second question. “Who was the second one?” Joy thought for a moment. “It was Lisa,” she said. Lisa. My eyes darted back to Lisa’s mom, still caught in the screaming match. I debated whether I should say something, try to warn her. But this wasn’t the time or place. “You have a good memory, sweetie,” I said, bending down to her level. “But let’s keep that our little secret, okay?” She nodded, and I put her on the back of my scooter, my mind racing as we drove home. 5 That night, after Joy was asleep, I found Lisa’s mom in the group chat and sent her a friend request. She accepted almost immediately. I relayed what my daughter had told me and asked if Lisa had seemed unusual when she got home. Her response was a voice message. I pressed play, and the first thing I heard was a string of curses directed at my own mother. She then proceeded to curse my entire family line, accusing me of teaming up with Lily’s mom to jinx her daughter. So much for trying to help. No good deed goes unpunished. Furious, I closed the chat and went to browse my social media feed. Coincidentally, Joy’s teacher had posted again tonight. Just a single character: Day two survived? A seed of doubt began to sprout. What if the numbers meant something else? But I had no proof, nothing to go on. I ignored the post and tried to put it out of my mind. But the next morning, another parent spoke up in the group chat. This time it was a father, Jake Thompson’s dad. [This is getting weird. My son came home yesterday just like Lily, saying he was exhausted. He fell asleep and never woke up. His mother and I found him this morning… he was already stiff.] [I’m starting to think there’s something seriously wrong with this school!] Panic erupted in the chat. [No way. This can’t be more than a coincidence, right?] [Don’t scaremonger. How could someone just kill children like that?] [But it’s too much of a coincidence.] It wasn’t Lisa. Did that mean Joy’s story was unrelated to these deaths? I hesitantly asked my daughter again, “Sweetie, are you sure Lisa was the second child the teacher put to sleep?” Joy looked at me with wide, confused eyes, trying to remember. I didn’t want to pressure her. I prayed it was all just a coincidence. Because if Joy’s story was true, she could be in danger too. But her next words filled me with absolute terror. “Miss Chen patted Lily first. But Miss Li patted Jake first. Then Miss Chen patted Lisa…” Two teachers. Patting children at the same time. The sequence was correct. First Lily, then Jake. Which meant the third would be… Lisa. But why? Why would the teachers do this? And what was I going to do about my daughter? 6 My hands trembled as I opened my chat with Lisa’s mom again. I stared at our conversation, my heart pounding. I couldn’t just stand by and let a little girl die. I typed out a message, connecting everything: what Joy had told me, the sequence of deaths, the teacher’s cryptic posts. I urged her to watch Lisa closely tonight. Based on what happened to Lily and Jake, Lisa would probably be exhausted. [Clara, I don’t know what I ever did to you, but why are you so obsessed with cursing my daughter?] Her voice message was practically a scream. She also sent a photo of her daughter sitting at the dinner table, drinking a glass of milk, looking perfectly fine. [Lily and Jake’s deaths were accidents! And the teacher’s posts are just numbers! You have a sick imagination. If you send me one more of these crazy messages, I swear I’ll forward our entire conversation to the teachers and let you explain your insane theories to them.] Lisa was fine? So Lily and Jake’s deaths really were accidents? Maybe I was just being paranoid. The last thing I wanted was to be singled out by the teachers and have Joy ostracized because of my overactive imagination. [No, no, please don’t!] I quickly sent a voice message back, pleading. [You’re right, it’s a misunderstanding. Just pretend I never said anything. There’s no need to involve the teachers.] It took her a long time to reply. [You know, Clara, I think you’re just way too sensitive. Guilty conscience got you on edge?] [Don’t you dare accuse me of anything!] I shot back. [I was just trying to be helpful because I didn’t want anything to happen to your daughter. Is it too much to ask for you to not bite my head off for it?] [Well, nothing’s wrong, so what are you so worked up about?] she replied dismissively. I quickly exited our chat and put my phone away. Joy tugged on my sleeve. “Mommy, why are you sweating so much?” I snapped back to reality, forcing a gentle smile as I stroked her cheek. “It’s nothing, sweetie. Mommy’s fine. Can I ask you something? Which number were you, when the teacher put you to sleep?” She tilted her head, looking adorable. “I was after Lisa! Miss Li held me and helped me sleep. She said I was a good girl!” That’s right. Every day, Joy would come home and tell me how wonderful all three teachers were, and how much they liked her. They didn’t seem like monsters who would harm innocent children. Besides, they had only known these kids for a few weeks. What reason could they possibly have to hate them enough to kill them? A wave of relief washed over me. 7 The next morning, as I walked Joy to the preschool, I heard another commotion near the entrance. I tightened my grip on her hand. As we got closer, I saw it was Lily’s mother and Jake’s father. They were demanding answers from the school. “Our children died at home after spending just one day here. I remember something like this happened at this very school over twenty years ago! This place must be haunted! We demand to speak to the director!” I couldn’t help but stop and watch. The director never appeared. Instead, she sent security guards to escort the two grieving parents inside. The entrance slowly returned to normal. I didn’t want to linger. I quickly handed Joy over to her teacher and went home. 8 Back home, I scrolled through the parent group chat to see what I’d missed. They’d been talking a lot. One parent brought up the incident from two decades ago. [Charlotte’s Dad]: You know, what if this place is actually haunted? [Charlotte’s Dad]: Yeah. I went to this preschool when I was a kid. A girl in one of the classes came home from school looking pale, went to sleep, and just never woke up. This was over 20 years ago. [Charlotte’s Dad]: At first, her family didn’t think much of it. The girl had a congenital heart condition, so they assumed that was the cause. [Charlotte’s Dad]: But then the next day, another girl from her class died the same way. And the day after, a third. That’s when the parents knew something was wrong and called the police. [Lisa’s Mom]: What happened then? [Charlotte’s Dad]: The story goes that the girls were all very pretty, and there was this rich little princess in their class who was jealous. During naptime, she would bully them, jumping up and down on them until their internal organs were crushed. That’s how they died. [Charlotte’s Dad]: But the girl’s family was wealthy. They bribed the director, and since there were no security cameras back then, she got away with it. They just transferred her to another school like nothing ever happened. A wave of shock and disgust filled the chat. Then, one mother asked: [What was that girl’s name? It wasn’t one of our teachers, was it?] [Charlotte’s Dad]: I think her last name started with a W. Her first name was Clara. [Lisa’s Mom]: That name sounds familiar… I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere…

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