I run a puppy playdate service at a local gaming lounge. I was just walking to a private booth when a girl knelt and reached out to pet my dog, a warm smile on her face. I figured she was the client, coming out to greet us early. But as I opened my mouth to say hello, a few lines of semi-transparent text drifted past my eyes. 【OMG, the female lead is so smart, using the puppy to get his attention.】 【Who knew he was a softie for dogs under that cold exterior?】 【Too bad about the dog, though. She gets it killed later.】 【Hey, if the dog doesn’t die, how does the plot move forward?】 I looked at the girl still scratching my dog’s head. Then I looked down at my sweet, oblivious pup, his tail wagging furiously. A sudden chill ran down my spine. So, I’ve barely been in this business for a week, and I’m already just a prop in some cheap romance drama? No way. This dog is not becoming a plot device. Not today. 1 The woman in the cream-colored sundress was still crouched down, her fingers tangled in my dog’s fur. Bean’s tail was a blur of happiness. The moment the floating comments registered, a single sharp command escaped my lips. “Don’t touch him.” I strode forward, scooping Bean up into my arms. He immediately snuggled against my chest, his tail thumping against my side. The woman, startled by my sudden appearance, quickly plastered a smile on her face. She reached out again. “Oh, he’s just so adorable! I was only playing with him for a second.” As she spoke, she angled her head just so, her eyes darting toward the booth next to her. She was putting on a show, managing her expression for an unseen audience. I had no time for her games. I just wanted to get past her with my dog. But just then, the door to that very booth opened, and a man stepped out, drawn by the commotion. Instantly, more text scrolled across my vision: 【It’s him! The male lead! He finally noticed her!】 【That eye contact! The chemistry is off the charts! This pairing is epic!】 I blinked. “…” Maybe I’d been working too many late nights. Was I starting to hallucinate? Real or not, I had to get my dog out of here. “Excuse me, he has an appointment.” I held Bean tight and walked directly toward the man’s booth, pointedly ignoring the woman I left behind. “Hey, I wasn’t done yet!” Just as I expected, she followed, her voice sharp with annoyance as she reached out to stop me. But the moment her eyes landed on the man in the doorway, her anger vanished, choked back down. It was replaced by an even sweeter smile, her voice softening to a gentle coo. “Wait, please. I just… I love dogs so much.” “The client who booked this playdate is waiting,” I said, offering the man a polite nod before turning to give the woman a picture-perfect, professional smile. Then, before she could react, I slipped into the booth and shut the door in her shocked face. With the door safely closed, I let out a long breath, the tension leaving my shoulders. I gently poked Bean’s fuzzy ear. “It’s okay, Bean. You’re safe now.” As if he understood, he licked my fingers and nuzzled his fluffy head into my palm. I sank onto the sofa, glancing around the empty air. The strange words were gone again. I handed the man my canvas tote bag filled with tennis balls and freeze-dried chicken. “Here are his toys and treats.” He took the bag, his fingertips brushing against the back of my hand. He didn’t say much, just pulled out a well-chewed plush toy and dangled it in front of Bean. Bean went wild, his tail wagging like a helicopter rotor as he chased the toy in circles on the carpet. The man knelt, watching the little dog spin around him. I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch into the ghost of a smile, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He was back to his cool, unreadable expression as he gently stroked Bean’s ear. Watching them, I couldn’t shake the comment I’d seen: She gets it killed later. I bit my lip, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “So, you saw what happened out there. I think Bean’s a little spooked.” “It’s his first time doing a playdate session, and I’m a bit worried. Would it be okay if I stayed here with him for a while?” The man looked at Bean, who was now gleefully romping around the room, and nodded without much hesitation. “Sure.” Relieved, I found a single armchair not too far from him and sat down. For the rest of the hour, the man just played with the dog, his expression never changing. Who plays with a puppy with a face like that? I wondered. And just as I had the thought, the damn comments reappeared. 【What is this dog owner’s deal? Forcing her way into the male lead’s room and trying to make our girl look bad.】 【Seriously! Our girl is the cutest, everyone loves her. It was obviously just a misunderstanding!】 I rubbed my eyes, confirming I wasn’t dreaming. So, it wasn’t my vision. The world itself had gone insane. If the woman outside was the “female lead” and this guy was the “male lead,” then what did that make the little dog currently chewing a treat at my feet? A plot device? A furry tool to drive their romance forward? I looked down at Bean, now trying to cuddle up to the man’s leg, his tail thumping a happy rhythm against the floor. He had no idea he’d been cast in someone else’s bizarre story. I sighed. It seemed my little guy and I had been dragged into a setup. He let out a contented little snuffle, blissfully unaware. My eyes flickered toward the door, my resolve hardening. The second this gig is over, we’re packing up and getting out of here. He can have his leading lady. Nobody is touching my dog. 2 After that day at the gaming lounge, I took Bean home and things went back to normal. Every evening, I’d walk him around our apartment complex. The strange, floating comments never reappeared. Life was quiet. I was starting to convince myself that the whole bizarre experience had just been a bad dream. Today was just another one of those walks. Bean was trotting happily ahead of me when he suddenly stopped by a patch of grass, his back legs dipping into a familiar squat. I knew the drill. I pulled a waste bag from my pocket and turned my back to give him some privacy. Once he was done, I tied a knot in the bag, tossed it into a nearby bin, and called him over. “Mission accomplished! Time for chicken treats at home!” He trotted back, tail wagging, but just as we were about to head back, the damn words reappeared out of nowhere. 【High-impact scene coming up! The main couple’s romance is finally about to take off!】 【Someone with no soul is about to hurt the puppy, and the female lead is going to swoop in like a total badass! Death to all animal abusers!】 【She’s so kind! This move will definitely make the male lead remember her!】 My feet froze. The female lead was back. I scanned the area, wondering which unlucky person she had her sights on this time. The walking path was dotted with other dog owners, all with their pets safely on leashes. Everything looked perfectly peaceful. Who was going to hurt a dog? As I stood there, confused, a sudden, powerful tug on the leash nearly yanked my arm out of its socket. I looked down to see Bean bolting forward, pulling with all his might. He’d spotted his best friend, a border collie, and the two were already barking greetings from across the lawn. “Bean! Stop!” I yelled, gripping the leash, but he was too excited, his paws scrambling for purchase on the pavement. He was dragging me along now. The collie’s owner was shouting at her dog, too. The two furballs collided in a whirlwind of happy yaps and spinning circles. Thankfully, Bean finally skidded to a halt before he could drag my old bones any further. I leaned over, hands on my knees, panting until my breath returned. I glared down at the little traitor, who was now panting happily, his tongue lolling out, wagging his tail as if nothing had happened. A wave of frustration washed over me, and I gave his rump a light, harmless pat. “Bean! Are you trying to give your mother a heart attack? If only you put that much energy into losing weight!” “You okay?” The collie’s owner walked over, a look of concern on her face. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I waved her off, my eyes still fixed on the two dogs, who were now sniffing each other intently. “No treats for you tonight!” The two of us stood there chatting about the new vet clinic that had just opened up in the neighborhood. Suddenly, a shrill voice cut through the evening air from behind us. “How could you abuse your dog!” I jumped, spinning around. There she was, the female lead, standing a few feet away, her face a mask of righteous fury. At the exact same time, the comments exploded across my vision: 【Here we go! The dog abuser has appeared!】 【Get her, girl! The male lead is watching!】 【Teach that abuser a lesson she’ll never forget!】 I stared. “…” Oh. So I was the unlucky one. “Me?” I pointed at my own nose, utterly bewildered. “I’m abusing my dog?” The border collie’s owner was just as confused. “What’s going on?” she whispered to me. While we exchanged baffled looks, a small crowd of neighbors started to gather, drawn by the commotion. “What’s happening?” someone asked. “Did someone hurt a dog?” And right on cue, the comments began their frantic scroll: 【Yes, girl! Stand up to people like that!】 【That’s horrible, hitting such a cute dog!】 【Look, the male lead sees you! He sees you defending justice! You’re beautiful and kind!】 I followed the comments’ invisible line of sight and, sure enough, there he was. The man from the gaming lounge. He was standing in the crowd, watching the scene unfold with a surprised look on his face. Clearly, this little drama was as unexpected for him as it was for me. 3 Seeing a crowd gather, the woman—Carol, I’d eventually learn her name was—stood up even straighter, as if fueled by their attention. “I saw it with my own eyes!” she declared, pointing a finger at Bean, who was now huddled by my leg. “You raised your hand and you hit his backside! What is that if not abuse?” Her eyes blazed with the thrill of a crusader. “Someone like you who doesn’t care about animals doesn’t deserve a dog! You’ll be the death of him!” Bean, sensing the tension, pressed closer against me. I bent down to stroke his head, and when I looked up again, my confusion had hardened into a cold anger. That little tap on his butt counted as “abuse” in her world? Were these floating comments filtered through some kind of delusion that erased basic common sense? “His mom takes such good care of him,” a voice from the crowd piped up. It was Mrs. Gable, a neighbor I often saw on our walks. “She’s out here with him every single day. When Bean got sick last month, she rushed him to the emergency vet in the middle of the night. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Most of the dog owners in our complex knew each other. We all had a pretty good sense of who treated their pets well. But the comments in my vision were having none of it: 【What is wrong with these people? Covering for an abuser? Is this whole neighborhood full of animal haters?】 【Right? Anyone defending her is just as guilty! Ignore them, girl!】 The sheer, twisted logic of it all made me want to laugh. I looked at Carol, whose face was growing paler by the second. “I’m not sure where you got the idea that I was abusing my dog.” “If you’re talking about the light pat I gave his rear end,” I said, emphasizing the word “light,” “then I really don’t know what to tell you.” “And as for why I did it, you clearly didn’t see what happened just before, did you?” “That’s right,” the collie’s owner chimed in, pointing to the two dogs at her feet. “Bean got overexcited when he saw my dog and bolted. He nearly pulled his owner right off her feet!” “She was just startled and trying to get him to calm down. It wasn’t abuse.” A murmur of agreement went through the crowd. “Yeah, that’s nothing. You have to correct a dog when it lunges like that, or someone could get hurt.” “Seriously. My golden retriever chased a squirrel once and pulled so hard I sprained my ankle. He got more than a light tap on the head for that.” “Besides,” someone else added with a chuckle, “the way she tapped him, his own tail probably hits her leg harder than that.” A few people laughed. Carol had clearly not expected this. The scenario she’d imagined—a heroic rescue where she was lauded by the public for standing up to an abuser—had completely imploded. Instead, she found herself on the receiving end of a collective, gentle rebuke. Her face flushed, then went pale, her carefully constructed expression crumbling. A flash of pure rage crossed her eyes. This wasn’t in the script, and she was starting to panic. I took half a step back, pulling Bean with me, trying to avoid her venomous glare. 【Male lead, do something! Help her! She’s being attacked by all these villains!】 【My heart breaks for her. She was just trying to do the right thing and now she’s the one getting yelled at?】 I stared at the black-and-white insanity of the comments, wanting to roll my eyes into the back of my head. How could these “viewers” lack such a basic grasp of right and wrong? “She is an abuser!” Carol finally shrieked, cornered and desperate. “And all of you, defending her—you’re all abusers, too!” “Hey, watch your mouth, young lady!” Mrs. Gable snapped, her patience gone. “This was a simple misunderstanding. We were just telling you what actually happened. That doesn’t make us abusers.” “Yeah, for someone so young, you’ve got a nasty tongue on you,” another man grumbled, frowning. Just as the scene was about to spiral completely out of control, a calm voice cut in. “Carol, that’s enough.” I looked up. The man from the gaming lounge had made his way through the crowd. He was frowning at Carol, his disapproval clear. “You’re making things up. That’s not what happened, and you’re being unfair to everyone.” Carol looked as if he’d slapped her. Her eyes instantly filled with tears. “I was doing it for you!” she cried, her voice cracking. “You love dogs so much, I was just trying to help!” Tears streamed down her face as she played the part of the deeply wronged victim. The neighbors, sensing this was a private argument now, started to back away, though they still watched from a distance. I watched this train wreck of a drama unfold, my eyes flicking to the frantic scrolling of the comments: 【What is happening? The male lead is yelling at her? But she did it all for him!】 【This guy is trash. He’s blind and can’t even tell right from wrong! He’d better be ready to grovel, and I hope she never takes him back!】 【Suddenly the second male lead is looking a lot better. Run, girl, run!】 I fought the urge to groan. What did Bean and I do to deserve being dragged into this mess? But watching them, I had a sinking feeling their drama was far from over. And my innocent little dog, somehow, was stuck right in the middle of it. I looked down at Bean and sighed. Looks like I’m going to have to be extra careful from now on. 4 I couldn’t believe it. The male and female leads from this bizarre, invisible drama lived in my apartment complex. Great. Now there was nowhere to hide. I couldn’t just stop walking my dog to avoid them. So, I switched our schedule to the dead of night. The complex was silent, the only sound the rustle of leaves in the wind. “Okay, Bean, be quiet,” I whispered, clutching his leash as we tiptoed downstairs. The little guy was vibrating with excitement, his tail wagging like crazy. We had just reached a fork in the path near the community garden when I saw a figure standing under a lamppost ahead. The person turned. The warm, yellow light illuminated his face. It was the man from the drama. Thomas. Bean let out a soft “woof,” and he paused, waiting for us to approach. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, his gaze shifting from Bean to me. “I haven’t seen you walking him lately. I figured you might be avoiding us.” He looked genuinely regretful. “What Carol did the other day, accusing you like that… it was completely out of line. I wanted to find you and apologize.” “Oh, uh, it’s fine. Really,” I said quickly, taking a small step back with Bean. “It was her thing, it has nothing to do with you. You don’t need to apologize.” Honestly, all I wanted was to end this conversation and disappear into the night. But he persisted. “No, she was doing it because of me. She was targeting you and your dog because of me. So, ultimately, it’s my fault. I have to apologize.” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just offered a tight smile. After a few seconds of awkward silence, I couldn’t help myself. “You know, maybe you and Carol should sit down and have a real talk?” I suggested, trying to sound casual. “Sometimes, when things are left unsaid, it just creates more misunderstandings. This can’t be good for either of you.” It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Carol was obsessed with him. As for Thomas, he seemed like a decent guy, but who knew if he’d ever been clear with her. He seemed surprised by my suggestion. He thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “You’re right. We do need to talk.” He looked at me again. “I’m sorry again for all the trouble. It won’t happen again.” “It’s okay. Well, we should get on with our walk.” I turned to leave with Bean. I really hope it won’t happen again, I thought. Otherwise, I’m seriously considering moving. “It’s pretty dark out,” Thomas called after me. “Mind if I walk with you?” I agreed. The moment I did, Bean trotted over to Thomas’s side, wagging his tail and rubbing his head against his leg. Thomas bent down to scratch his ears. “Why did you stop listing him for the playdate service?” It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. “Oh, uh, just been busy lately,” I lied. He looked a little sheepish. “I kind of miss him.” I couldn’t blame him. My dog was pretty charming. “Well, if you ever want to see him, you can just join us on our walks.” And so, we fell into a routine. Every evening, Thomas would be waiting downstairs, sometimes with a little treat for Bean. The three of us would walk together. Bean would dart back and forth between us, dropping his ball at my feet one moment, then flopping down on Thomas’s shoes the next. It was clear he really, really liked him. One evening, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind. “So what’s the deal with that girl, Carol?” Thomas’s expression immediately soured. He sighed. “I have no idea. She just started acting this way recently. I’ve told her, very clearly, that I’m not interested, but she keeps saying we’re ‘destined’ to be together. And then she does these… bizarre things. It’s honestly starting to scare me.” “Did she just suddenly start acting like this?” I asked, a thought forming in my mind. He confirmed that she had. A wild theory began to take shape. She said they were ‘destined.’ Could she also know about the ‘script’? A cool breeze rustled the trees, and I watched Thomas as he knelt to play with Bean. Then another, even stranger question hit me. I could only see those floating comments when Carol was around. They were always there, dictating the plot. But Thomas, the supposed male lead of this story, seemed completely oblivious to them. What was the connection between Carol and those comments?

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The moment a shared account notification for a high-end baby stroller popped up on my phone, I quit my seven-figure job without a second thought. I packed my bags, flew home from London, and prepared to start a family with the husband I hadn’t lived with for ten years. I knew this was another one of his hints. For the past decade, I’d always used my demanding career as an excuse, telling him I wasn’t ready for children. But deep down, the guilt was eating me alive. Guilt for leaving him alone in our New York brownstone while I chased a paycheck overseas. Guilt for prioritizing my ambition over the family we were supposed to build. But when I stood at our front door, gifts in hand, ready to give him the surprise of his life, I wasn’t met with the tearful, joyful embrace I’d imagined. Instead, I was greeted by a young boy and a woman with a swollen, pregnant belly. 1 The boy was laughing, running full tilt toward the woman, and was about to collide with her when my husband, George, rushed out from inside. He threw his arms out, stopping the reckless child just in time. “Leo, you’re about to be a big brother! You can’t be so careless. What if you’d hurt your mommy and the baby?” The boy made a funny face, grinning. “But I want a little sister.” George ruffled the boy’s hair, the adoration in his eyes practically overflowing. His parents followed him out, pulling the boy aside to scold him gently. “You can’t do that anymore. You could have really hurt her.” I watched this happy, harmonious family scene, and the cold, hard truth finally dawned on me. They all knew. They were all in on this perfect little life, and I was the only one who had been left in the dark. But… every time I came home, he was as passionate as a newlywed. He would hold me until dawn, his touch desperate and loving. Because of that, even after eight years without a child, I never doubted him. I never once questioned his love for me. Before I boarded the plane, I’d texted him that I had a surprise, and he’d replied, “Can’t wait.” It had only been a few hours. How had everything changed so completely? I looked at George. His eyes scanned my face, a flicker of panic in their depths, before finally landing on the gift box I was still clutching. His voice was raspy, a barely audible whisper. “What are you doing back?” When he saw my gaze fixed on the pregnant woman beside him, he quickly dropped the hand that had been resting on her waist. Suddenly, a thousand ignored details from the past eight years exploded in my mind. The way he’d always cut our video calls short, blaming a “bad signal.” The gifts I’d sent home, always returned with the excuse that the “storage is full.” The way he’d talked me out of taking a vacation to come home last month, claiming he was “too swamped at work.” “A surprise,” I said, the words catching in my throat, dry and rough like sandpaper. I forced a smile. “Weren’t you excited?” The woman beside him took half a step forward, subtly positioning herself in front of him, as if to protect him. “Excuse me, do we know you?” I ignored her, my eyes still glued to George’s face. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” George snapped out of his trance, forcing a weak smile. “This is Amber. The children’s mother.” Then he pointed at me, and his voice faltered. I didn’t give him a chance to lie. I held out my hand. “I’m Chloe. George’s wife.” Amber didn’t move. My outstretched hand hung awkwardly in the air. The color drained from George’s face. He tugged on Amber’s sleeve. “Mom, Dad, why don’t you take Leo home for now?” Amber gave me a look loaded with meaning as George’s parents quickly ushered the boy away, half-coaxing, half-dragging him out the door. The moment they were gone, George’s expression transformed. His eyes were red, his face a mask of wounded betrayal. “Why did you come back like this? Are you checking up on me?” I stood my ground, my voice steady despite the tremor in my soul. “I quit my job.” George’s head shot up. “What?” I knew what he was thinking. My salary in London was more than enough to support his entire family in lavish comfort. But I had walked away from it all. Years of building my career overseas, gone. I’d be starting from scratch back home. He had grown accustomed to the easy, luxurious life my money provided. The thought of falling from that paradise must have been terrifying. “You always said I didn’t spend enough time with you,” I said, my voice flat. “So I quit. I gave up everything in London so we could finally be together and build a real life.” “I wanted to tell you in person, so I came straight from the airport with your gifts.” George’s eyes finally seemed to register the pile of luggage and shopping bags at my feet. I had rushed here, not even stopping for a sip of water, my clothes damp with sweat from the journey. He called for the housekeeper, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “Please help take these bags inside and show… Miss Chloe to the guest room.” Then he turned back to me. “I have to take Amber to her check-up. Just tell the housekeeper what you want for dinner.” And with that, he led Amber away, as if this whole devastating scene had never happened. As if he owed me, his actual wife, no explanation at all. I watched them go, a painful lump forming in my throat. This was my brownstone. He was my husband. Those were my in-laws. But now, in my own home, I was being shown to the guest room. I was an intruder. A stranger who had forced her way into their perfect life. I couldn’t help but wonder… if our child had survived all those years ago, would we have had a life this happy? Would the three of us have been a family, just like them? 2 Years ago, getting married to George had been a dream. From meeting his parents to the engagement party, they had always looked at me with such approval, bragging to everyone about how smart and capable their son’s new wife was. I remember the first time I visited their home, George’s mother held my hands and gushed, “Chloe, you’re like the daughter we never had. We’ll treasure you.” Back then, George was always by my side. He said he loved peace and quiet, so I took all my savings and bought this brownstone, a multi-million-dollar property in the heart of the city. He was ecstatic, promising to decorate it exactly the way I wanted. I didn’t have strong opinions, so I let him take the lead. He threw himself into the project, choosing deep blue curtains because they were my favorite, insisting on a durable grey sofa, and even picking the wedding photo for the wall where he said I had the goofiest, happiest smile. “This is our home now,” he’d said, his hand resting on the picture frame, his eyes shining. “As soon as you’re settled in London, I’ll come join you.” But when I finally secured my permanent contract, he changed his tune. “My parents are getting older, Chloe. There’ll be no one to look after them if I leave.” “Besides, I just got promoted to department head. It would be a waste to quit now. Just wait a little longer. I’ll come as soon as I finish this project.” And I believed him. I thought that distance was no match for love, that as long as our hearts were connected, we could overcome anything. I worked myself to the bone, sending most of my salary home to him. For his parents, for him, for our future. He’d always text back, “It’s more than enough,” but then a package would arrive with my favorite cured sausages from a local deli, with a note saying, “Don’t neglect yourself over there.” Thinking back, I realize now he probably didn’t make those sausages himself. Just like the “bad signal” on our video calls was probably to hide the sound of a crying baby. The returned gifts weren’t because “storage was full,” but because he couldn’t risk another woman seeing them. And every time he’d texted, “I miss you,” the urgency in his tone wasn’t born from longing, but from the need to hide a lie. I stood in the living room of my own home, staring at the family portrait hanging on the wall. George was leaning toward Amber, and Leo sat between them. All three of them were smiling, a perfect, happy family. The picture was in a frame I’d sent him for his birthday last year. At the time, he’d told me it was “too expensive, too precious to use.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want to use it. He just didn’t want my gift displayed in their home. Footsteps echoed on the stairs. George’s mother came down, holding a platter of fruit and forcing a smile. “Chloe, have some fruit. These are all your old favorites.” I didn’t move. I looked her straight in the eye. “Leo… is he George’s son?” It wasn’t that I couldn’t guess the obvious answer. Perhaps I was just too weak, too unwilling to believe that every beautiful memory I held dear was nothing more than a carefully constructed lie, a performance put on by his entire family. Her hand trembled, and a few grapes rolled onto the floor. She bent down to pick them up, her voice muffled. “The children… they’re very well-behaved…” I closed my eyes, a sharp pain seizing my heart. “He’s seven years old.” “That means he was born the year after I left for London.” She froze, and when she looked up at me, the panic in her eyes was impossible to hide. “Chloe, let me explain…” “Explain what?” I laughed, a tight, humorless sound. “Explain how your whole family lied to me for eight years, watching me send my hard-earned money home like a fool to raise another woman’s husband and children? Or explain who he was thinking of every time I came home and he held me in his arms and told me he loved me?” George’s father came out of his study and pulled his wife behind him, his face stern. “Chloe, there’s no point in saying all this now. It’s clear George can’t continue this marriage with you. You two… should get a divorce.” “A divorce?” I repeated the word, my mind flashing back to our wedding day eight years ago. His father had stood before me then, too, but with a smile, saying, “My son will take good care of you.” Eight years. How could a heart change so quickly? “Amber was George’s high school classmate,” his father said, sighing with a strange sort of sympathy. “After you went abroad, George was very lonely, and he went through a lot. Amber was the one who took care of him. They… they couldn’t help it.” Couldn’t help it? And what about me? The hardships I endured, the sleepless nights I worked, the endless days I spent yearning to come home—what did all of that count for? I grabbed a fruit knife from the table. I didn’t want to hurt anyone; I just needed something solid to hold onto. The cold steel did little to quell the fire raging inside me. Just then, the sound of a car engine came from the driveway. George and Amber were back. 3 They walked into the living room and saw the knife in my hand. Amber’s face went white. “Chloe, what are you doing?” George immediately stepped in front of her, his brow furrowed. “We can talk this out calmly. Don’t scare Amber.” “Scare her?” I looked at her swollen belly, and the scene before me felt like a surreal nightmare. “Don’t you think I’m the one who should be scared?” “George, tell me,” I said, my voice shaking. “In these past eight years, was there ever a single moment you felt even a flicker of guilt?” He bit his lip, and a tear rolled down his cheek. “I’m sorry…” “Sorry? That’s it?” I slammed the knife down on the coffee table with a deafening clatter. “I quit my job, I threw away my future, all to come back and build a home with you! But you’ve already been building a home with someone else for eight years! George, what do you take me for?” Leo came running down the stairs, saw the knife, and burst into tears, throwing himself into his father’s arms and crying, “Daddy!” George held the boy, his back to me, patting his back gently, his own shoulders trembling. Amber walked over and held out a document. “As they say, the one who isn’t loved is the third wheel. This is a divorce agreement, Chloe. Let’s just end this amicably.” I didn’t look at the papers. I just stared at George’s back. He never turned around. So all those passionate nights that felt like a second honeymoon were just an act. That text message, “Can’t wait,” was probably meant for Amber and sent to me by mistake. I had been a clown, performing in his twisted play for eight years, only to find out I’d been written out of the script long ago. The gift box in my hand had fallen to the floor at some point. A handcrafted bracelet I’d found at a remote mountain monastery—a charm for good fortune—had spilled out, its beads glinting coldly in the afternoon light. I heard the sound of paper ripping, followed by a sharp gasp that sounded like a slap. Then came George’s anguished cry. “Who said anything about a divorce?! When did it become your place to make decisions in this house?!” He screamed my name, his voice choked with sobs. I turned in a daze and walked toward the door, leaving the wreckage of their lives behind me. Some debts can’t be paid with a simple “I’m sorry.” And some homes, once shattered, can never be put back together again. 4 I went to my mother’s house. I’d been away for so long, and the rare times I came back, I spent them with George. My parents were understanding, always telling me to spend my limited time with my husband. Looking at the new silver strands in their hair, I was struck by the sudden realization of how neglectful I’d been. I had poured all my money, my love, and my energy into George and my career, barely sparing a thought for my own parents. I tried to compose myself, to act like nothing was wrong. But my mother saw through it instantly. “Did you and George have a fight? You’ve been away for so long, you shouldn’t be fighting the moment you get back.” She sighed. “Men have their pride. Don’t be too hard on him. He’s been waiting for you all these years; it hasn’t been easy for him either.” My father came out of the kitchen, taking off his apron. “Alright, that’s enough. Our daughter just got home. Let’s have a nice meal, let her get some rest. Whatever it is, it can wait.” “She’s tired and hungry. Don’t badger her.” Hearing my parents’ gentle words, I could no longer hold back the dam of emotions. As I served myself more rice, tears began to fall, one after another, splashing onto the table. The rest of the meal was silent. My parents didn’t ask any more questions; they just kept putting more food on my plate. That night, lying in my childhood bed, I could hear them talking in the next room through the thin walls. “Tomorrow, go buy some of her favorite snacks. Good food always makes people feel better.” “I’ll go talk to George. All couples fight. It’s nothing serious.” I pulled the covers over my head and cried silently. If George had just told me he didn’t love me anymore, I would have let him go. I’m not the kind of person to cling. But he said nothing. He and his parents just built another family, in my house, right under my nose. I tossed and turned, finally drifting off to sleep at some unknown hour. The next morning, I was woken by the sound of cheerful laughter from the living room. I sat up, groggy, and thought I heard George’s voice. Without even stopping to change, I threw open my bedroom door. There, sitting in my parents’ living room, were George, Amber, and their son. How dare he. How dare he bring his mistress and his illegitimate child here, parading them in front of my parents. My chest tightened, and I struggled to breathe. Before I could speak, George jumped in, explaining smoothly, “You’re awake! We were just saying, Amber’s due any day now. If we hurry up and have one of our own, our kids could grow up together. It’d be perfect, since we all know each other so well.” He had the audacity to wink at me. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What could I say? Could I deny it all? Could I tell my parents that Leo wasn’t just Amber’s son, but my husband’s son, too? Could I tell them George had been cheating on me since our second year of marriage? Could I… I had to hand it to him. George knew me perfectly. He had me completely trapped. I looked around the room. Everyone was smiling, laughing, a perfect picture of familial bliss. Only I was on the outside, separated from them by an invisible wall. The happiness was theirs. I had nothing. Amber was smiling at my parents. “Chloe has always been so busy with work, traveling everywhere. George and I have already agreed, when Chloe has her baby, I’ll be there to help her out every step of the way. You two have nothing to worry about.” I looked at the veiled triumph in her eyes and suddenly felt exhausted. If the rest of my life was going to be this pathetic act, I’d rather end it now. I took a deep breath. “I don’t think our families will be joined like that. After all, the two children are…” Just as the words were about to leave my lips, George shot up from the sofa and grabbed my arm, yanking me toward the door. “Chloe, didn’t you say you were taking Amber to her check-up? We’re going to be late. Mom, Dad, we’ll be back soon. You guys chat.”

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My hearing isn’t great. So when the campus heartthrob asked me to run an errand for him, I thought he asked me to make out with him. When he asked me to get his lunch, I thought he was asking me to be his girl. And just like that, we stumbled into a relationship. Then, one night, I found him at a bar, playing cards with his “best girl friend.” I overheard him laugh and say: “Dating a deaf girl is a special kind of hell.” I wasn’t about to let that slide. I pushed the door open, walked right up to him, and asked— “Where did you say I could pick up those four free male strippers?” He completely lost his mind. But I really didn’t hear him! Where do I pick them up? If I’m late, they’ll all be gone! 1 The moment I stepped through the door, the whole private room went silent. Annie slid off Jaxon’s lap, tugging down her tight bodycon skirt as she playfully punched his chest, her face flushed. “I thought you said this was just a guys’ night? Why’d you bring a girl?” “Leah, don’t get the wrong idea! We just lost a bet, a little grinding, that’s all. It’s not like we did anything. We’re all just bros, you know? Totally platonic.” “Ugh, girls are so much drama… Jaxon, aren’t you going to say something to your girlfriend?” The guy on the sofa barely glanced up, his eyes cold and distant as if my very presence was an annoyance. So I gathered my courage, walked straight up to him, and said his name. “Jaxon.” My voice trembled a little, but I had to know. I needed an answer. “I didn’t quite hear you before.” “Where did you say I could get those four free male strippers?” 2 “…” “I said, ‘Dating a deaf girl is a special kind of hell!’ What did you mishear this time, Leah?!” he roared, his voice cracking with fury. “You dare even think about male strippers?” The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bone. Jaxon glared at me, his eyes sharp as daggers. He had a personality like a lit match—a short fuse and an explosive temper. He’d start rattling off words so fast I couldn’t catch a single one. Trapped in the crossfire, I mumbled meekly, “I really didn’t hear where… If I’m too late, they’ll be gone…” Jaxon’s lips pressed into a thin, hard line, his expression turning thunderous. Annie bounced over with a saccharine smile, trying to smooth things over. “Leah, we were just messing around. Don’t take it so seriously.” “I know you’re probably just on edge. Happens when you’re desperate for a man’s attention.” “…You know so much, Leah. Unlike innocent girls like us, who’ve never even held a boy’s hand.” “I know you’re broke. Here’s fifty bucks. Go buy yourself some new underwear.” “Yours is so worn down to a single thread that when you bend over, your ass practically screams ‘Open for business.’ Seriously, aren’t you cold? A girl’s got to have some self-respect!” Annie froze for three solid seconds, her face turning the color of a beet before she covered her mouth and ran out of the room. The party was full of Jaxon’s childhood friends, a pack of about seven or eight guys, all watching the show. His ego was shattered. He started cursing, shoving me towards the door. “Leah, what the hell is wrong with you? Your ears don’t work, so your mouth just makes up crap? Get back to campus, now!” “Who I drink with and what games I play are none of your business! Don’t think being my girlfriend gives you any special rights!” Once we were outside the bar, Jaxon found a quieter spot to talk. A smug smirk played on his lips. “Leah. You were jealous back there, weren’t you?” “You’ve been ignoring my texts, dodging my calls, never at your dorm when I wait for you. What’s with the silent treatment?” “All it took was me messing with some random girl to get you all fired up, rushing in to claim your territory. Male strippers? Please. When you’ve got a guy who looks like me, you’re not looking at anyone else.” When it’s quiet, my hearing is better. The misinterpretations aren’t as bad. I lowered my head, suddenly shy, as if he’d seen right through me. The truth was, I hadn’t wanted anything to do with Jaxon lately. Because I’d finally realized something. After two years with him, I had managed to save up over a hundred thousand dollars and even invested in a small business. He had served his purpose. Tonight was a complete accident. I was here with my roommates to celebrate the grand opening of my new shop, and he just happened to be having a party at the same bar. Did they really think I’d go easy on him? Jaxon lit a cigarette, pulling out a credit card and handing it to me. “Let me guess, those roommates of yours dragged you here? You should hang out with them less. They dress like they’re working a street corner every day. They’re no better than Annie.” “Pay the tab and get back to your dorm.” I nodded obediently, clutched the card, and stood on my toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek. The corner of his mouth twitched, fighting a smile. He was so pleased with himself he didn’t even notice he was trying to light the filter end of his cigarette. The second I turned around, I whipped out my phone and texted my roommates. Order the most expensive bottle. The walking wallet is here to pay for it all! 3 I learned a lesson very early in life: never be a fool for love like my mother. She spent her entire life devoted to a deadbeat man who drank, gambled, and cheated. He was the man who hit his own daughter so hard he shattered her hearing for good, and still, she forgave him, time and time again. On her deathbed, she refused to buy painkillers for herself, choosing instead to leave the hospital to make him one last meal… I would rather be a bad woman than a stupid one. … When I first got to college, I was dirt poor. Even with student loans, I could barely afford ramen noodles. I only survived because my roommates would secretly sneak chicken into my bowl when I wasn’t looking. A girl who claws her way out of a place like that has nothing left but her own grit. One night, starving and desperate, I met Jaxon. It was in a massive elective course open to the whole university. He and his friends were in the back row, playing games on their phones. They’d ordered milk tea but were too lazy to go pick it up, so they were looking for someone to run the errand. Jaxon offered me fifty bucks. I told him it wasn’t enough. Five hundred. I hesitated. Losing patience, he just transferred me five thousand. So, I leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. He wanted an errand boy. I heard that he wanted a kiss. 4 Looking back, we were both pretty happy with that little misunderstanding. I used the money to treat my entire dorm to a massive pizza feast. We all ate until we couldn’t move. As for him? He wasn’t as handsome as the top academic students, or as rich as the trust-fund kids, and his basketball skills were average at best. But with just a few words, he’d apparently charmed a girl so completely that she kissed him on the spot. His friends crowned him the new campus king. He was on top of the world. … The second time we met was in the dining hall. I was just trying to get a whiff of the food before leaving. As I turned, I saw him standing there, watching me with a strange look in his eyes. “You’ve been hovering for ten minutes. If you want to talk to me, just come over. Stop pretending.” “You even followed me to my major’s class. What, you’ve never chased a guy before? Never even been in a relationship?” He tossed a card at me. “Take this. You’ll be getting my meals from now on.” My hearing was permanently damaged by my father. It was nerve damage; even a hearing aid wouldn’t help much. I always misheard things. And in a chaotic place like the dining hall, it was even worse. The card had a two-thousand-dollar balance on it—enough to feed me for four whole semesters. So, in my mind, what Jaxon had really said was: Take this. From now on, you’re all mine. 5 Honestly, Jaxon was easy to win over. Praise his genius for solving a calculus problem. Scream his name when he makes a basket. Follow him around like a devoted puppy, then suddenly disappear one day, only for him to find you suffering alone in the rain, breaking his heart… Psychology 101 says that for an arrogant, hot-headed personality like his, all you have to do is stroke his ego, act a little naive, and be completely obedient. You can get anything you want. … Back in my dorm late that night, a roommate showed me Annie’s latest Instagram story. Some drunk puppy insisted on walking me home. Is he planning on sticking to me for life? Help, I still have to get married someday! The photo was of Jaxon’s large hand intertwined with Annie’s, their fingers locked together. My roommate’s phone screen practically glowed with her outrage. She asked if I was really okay with this. I just shook my head calmly. I always knew about Annie, Jaxon’s “best girl friend.” Long, dark hair, a delicate face—she looked like the picture of innocence, but she insisted on acting like one of the guys, only ever hanging out with them. She never accepted gifts, swore off dating within the friend group, and insisted on splitting the bill for everything, down to a cup of coffee, just to prove she wasn’t taking advantage of her “bros.” Before Jaxon and I were official, she used to joke about fighting him for me. After we got together, she started slipping her own underwear into his backpack to mark her territory. Used underwear. I almost threw up when I found it. All I wanted was to secretly do his homework for him, sweet-talk him into a good mood, and make a little extra cash. What did I do to deserve this? Crying, I carried the backpack to his classroom. Jaxon and his friends were scrolling through photos on their phones, chatting casually. “Yeah, Annie’s definitely not a virgin.” “How long have I known her? You think I don’t know what that girl is up to? ‘Just bros.’ Please, she can drop the act.” “I was just using her to practice a few things. We even split the cost of the morning-after pills. A woman’s purity is the most important thing she has. When I get married, it’ll be to someone from a good family, a virgin. At worst, I’ve got a clean, loyal backup like Leah.” He looked up and saw me, and they immediately changed the subject, asking if I wanted to grab dinner at that old-school, clean diner off-campus. They thought I couldn’t hear them. But in a quiet room, I can hear just fine. I heard everything. So you see, why would I bother fighting with Annie? We were both just trying to please the same piece of trash. I held his hand and played the part of his innocent girlfriend, and the balance in my bank account kept growing. Annie schemed and pretended, only to end up having to split the cost of her own birth control. She was far more pathetic than I was. 6 Jaxon’s parents ran a small import-export business. He wasn’t exactly rolling in generational wealth. I’d been keeping track of his credit card limits every time I used them, which confirmed my theory. Getting over a hundred grand out of him was probably reaching the max. Now, all I had to do was figure out how to break up with him peacefully. But I didn’t have to worry about it for long. Someone else was more desperate than I was. Annie disappeared. … It poured rain on my 22nd birthday. I stood under an umbrella outside a fancy restaurant, waiting for Jaxon. Couples holding hands and whispering sweet nothings walked past me, one after another, until I was the only one left, standing alone in the cold. I waited from eight o’clock until well after eleven. He finally showed up. No apology, just his eyes glued to his phone as he texted furiously. “Something came up, I’m late,” he said dismissively. “Just got back from the countryside with some of the guys. We can’t get a hold of Annie.” “The dorm manager won’t let you in? Did you try talking to her?” Jaxon looked up from his phone, exasperated. “God, your hearing. Fine, fine, let’s go up. Happy birthday. I didn’t have time to get you a gift today.” “I’ve given you enough over the past two years. You should be set.” “How did you know I made you a cherry cream roll cake?” I pulled the cake box out from behind my back, holding it out to him with both hands. The fresh scratches and burns on my hands from baking made him frown instinctively. “You mentioned liking them in a post the other day. So I made one for you!” I said with a bright smile. “Just having you here to celebrate with me is the best gift ever.” Just last week, Jaxon had posted something cryptic: Someone special is mad at me. Looks like it’s going to take a cherry cream roll cake to fix it. That post was still pinned at the top of his profile. So hard to guess who that was about. “Leah.” Jaxon said my name suddenly, his voice rough. “You’re such an idiot, you know that?” He pulled me into his arms, kissing my forehead gently before stuffing his phone into his pocket. “Let’s go up first. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We’ll celebrate your birthday another day. Anything you want, I’ll buy it for you, okay?” We stepped into the elevator. Then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his face went rigid. May you have a life of peace and happiness. Goodbye. It was from Annie. The moment the elevator doors slid open, Jaxon looked at me, his eyes filled with conflict. Finally, he pried my fingers from his sleeve. “Leah, you… just get something to eat by yourself, then head back, okay?” “I have to go. It’s important.” “Oh, here.” He pulled a thick wad of cash from his pocket and shoved it into my hand. “Take this.” Annie’s family lived in a rural area. This was probably the emergency cash he’d brought with him to search for her. As I watched his retreating back, I calmly lifted my head and pulled out my phone, sending a quick text to my roommates. The fancy restaurant is on the third floor. The bar is on the fifth. Remember those free male strippers we missed out on last time? Looks like tonight’s our lucky night. I lifted the cake box in my hand and gave it a little shake. It wasn’t a cherry roll cake. It was an ice cream birthday cake I’d bought for myself. I knew he wouldn’t open it. He felt too guilty. My real birthday party was just getting started. … Right as the party hit its peak at midnight, I got a text from an unknown number. The one who isn’t loved is the other woman. Between the two of us, who do you think he’ll choose in the end? I knew instantly it was Annie, trying to provoke me. I smiled. Fine by me. I date him. I spend his money. You marry him. She wasn’t an enemy. She was a saint, sent to solve my problems for me. 7 I saw Jaxon again in a large lecture for four different classes. He’d been off the grid for a week. No texts, no calls. When he finally resurfaced, his only explanation was a curt, “My phone was broken.” Sitting right beside him, looking timid and innocent, was Annie. They and their group had arrived early and taken up an entire row, leaving no space for me. I had to find another seat. Just as I turned to leave, Annie shot up from her chair, her voice dripping with false sincerity. “Leah, don’t go! The seat next to Jax will always be yours. I’m the one who should leave.” “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were coming to this class.” The classroom was noisy. I turned back to her and replied, “It’s okay. I know you’re a sweet girl who just happens to love getting cozy with other people’s boyfriends.” Annie flinched, biting her lip helplessly. Jaxon glanced up at me, his eyes a clear warning. “I’m sorry. I apologize to you, Leah.” “Oh, so you know you’re a pathetic slut? Good. At least you’re self-aware—” “Leah! That’s enough!” Jaxon’s face was dark. He pointed to a seat in the front row and yelled, his voice booming over the chatter, “You. Sit. There.” “First come, first served.” A triumphant smirk touched Annie’s lips. First come, first served. She was hinting at her history with Jaxon. Childhood friends, inseparable. A bond no one could break. She must have been ecstatic. … The professor didn’t lecture for long, instead giving us a pop quiz that would count towards our final grade. As the room fell silent, the gossip from Jaxon’s friends drifted clearly to my ears. “Hey, how did you know Annie would be in that park? She was missing for like, two weeks.” “I heard some old ladies out for their morning walk found you two, and you weren’t even finished. C’mon, tell us, was it hot doing it in public?” “When you’re done with her, let us have a turn. I’m into girls like that—” Before he could finish, Jaxon exploded, launching himself up and punching his friend square in the face. “Say that again, I fucking dare you! I’ll kill you!” “Annie is a good girl! Who the hell do you think you are, talking about her like that?!” The entire class froze, dozens of pairs of eyes staring at them. Our dear “good girl” Annie, who loved wearing thongs and sticking to boys like glue, just lowered her eyes demurely and gave Jaxon a soft punch on the back. The silence was deafening. I stared at Jaxon, and my eyes began to well up. I quickly gathered my things and fled through the back door, as if staying one more second would make the tears fall. Truthfully… I had to run through every sad memory I’ve ever had just to squeeze out a single tear. Annie was playing her cards perfectly. Wasn’t that how I won Jaxon’s heart in the first place? By playing the victim? Don’t worry, sis, I thought. I’ve already paved the road for you. You just go ahead and walk it.

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1 I was using the new smart fridge my husband had just installed, getting ready to make a shopping list for the weekend. Suddenly, a shared family account he’d forgotten to log out of popped up on the screen. Inside, there was only one unfamiliar user profile. I tapped on it. A list titled “Rose Care Guide” stared back at me. Rose is allergic to seafood. No spicy food. Rose is emotionally volatile. Buy her favorite white chocolate to soothe her. Rose gets cold easily. The thermostat at home must be kept at a constant 78°F. I scrolled down, a cold smile on my face. The last item was a bolded calendar reminder: “Next Wednesday, take Rose to pick out a wedding dress.” Expressionless, I closed the list and dialed his number. “Darling, does your rose prefer a traditional gown or something more contemporary? I’d love to help you brainstorm.” … On the other end of the line, my husband, Chuck Croft, stopped breathing for a second. “Selene, my love, what little joke are you playing now?” His voice, wrapped in the warmth and magnetism I’d known for eight years, was as smooth and steady as ever. “What rose? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckled, his tone dripping with affection. “The only rose in my life is you.” I clutched the phone, my gaze sweeping over the silent night outside the window as my lips curled into a smirk. “The one from your shared list, of course. The rose who needs to pick out a wedding dress.” His voice on the other end immediately relaxed, a note of understanding in it. “Oh, that! That’s for Henry. He’s getting ready to marry his girlfriend, and he asked me to help him plan the wedding dress shopping.” “You know how he is, always a bit of a mess. I’ll have to give him a piece of my mind later. He can’t just be syncing everything to my account and making my Selene jealous.” The perfect excuse. Henry was his best friend, the best man at our wedding. He was certain I would never doubt him. “That’s just him, always dumping his problems on me. I’m so sorry it made you worry, Selene.” “Is that so?” I asked lightly. “You two must be incredibly close, for him to need someone else’s opinion on a wedding dress.” Chuck ran with it. “Of course, we grew up together. He spoils his girlfriend rotten; I’m almost jealous myself.” “Selene, don’t overthink it. You’re the only one for me. Is your gown for the gala tomorrow night ready? I can have the driver pick it up.” “No need. I have my own arrangements.” I ended the call, tossed my apron aside, and took a complete screenshot of the list. The lock turned. In less than fifteen minutes, Chuck was home. He walked in and wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin gently in the crook of my neck, bringing with him the crisp scent of the night air. “Selene, I was still worried. I canceled my last meeting and rushed back.” He cupped my face, his deep eyes filled with sincerity and tenderness. “Have I been too busy lately, neglecting you? Is that why your mind is racing?” “Your voice sounded off on the phone, and my heart just sank. No business deal is more important than you.” “It’s all my fault. I haven’t been considering your feelings these past few days.” He took all the blame, shouldered all the responsibility, painting me as the paranoid wife, chasing shadows and consumed by jealousy. I stared at the face that had once made me fall so completely, a bitter taste rising in my throat. “No, it’s not you. I think I’ve just been tired lately.” He let out a visible sigh of relief. “You silly girl.” He brushed his fingertip against my nose. “Alright, stop worrying. I’ll go run you a bath.” He slipped off his bespoke suit jacket and tossed it casually onto a chair. As I watched him walk into the bathroom, I reached for the jacket, planning to hang it in the closet. A gold-embossed card fell out of the pocket. I picked it up. It was a collection receipt from a private couture atelier. The name of the custom gown was “Starry Night Rose,” a piece whose materials and craftsmanship came with a staggering price tag. At the very bottom, handwritten, was the recipient’s information. It wasn’t me. Nor was it Henry’s girlfriend. Clutching the thin piece of paper, I called my best friend, Zara. She was a top-tier attorney specializing in divorce cases, with an almost terrifying network of contacts. “Zara, I’m sending you a name and an address. Find out everything you can about her and her connection to Chuck Croft.” For the next few days, Chuck’s attentiveness was almost suffocating. Kisses in the morning, embraces at night, driving me to and from work himself, even starting to research recipes to cook for me. He was playing the part of the perfect, guilt-ridden husband, desperately trying to make amends for a near-misunderstanding. On Thursday afternoon, Chuck’s grandfather called. The old man first asked about how I was doing, then the conversation took a sharp turn. “Selene, you and Chuck have been married for three years now. It’s time you started putting more of your focus on the family.” “A man is at the most critical stage of his career. He needs a supportive wife at home.” “Our Chuck is a capable man, and he adores you. You need to make sure you’re holding down the fort for him.” Every word was a nail wrapped in cotton candy—not fatal, but it pierced the heart. I absentmindedly hummed my agreement until the call ended. Chuck walked in with a bowl of something warm and sat beside me. “Grandfather giving you another lecture?” I nodded. He sighed, pulling me into his arms. “Don’t listen to him. The old man is stuck in the past.” “You just do what you want to do. I’ll support you, no matter what.” The words were beautiful. I curled up in his embrace, the air between us thick with the sour stench of his decaying lies. On Thursday, Zara called back. “I’ve got it all,” her voice was ice. “The woman at that address is named Lila Jiang. Twenty-three years old. She joined Chuck’s company three months ago.” “She has this delicate, otherworldly look. Calls him ‘Chuck’ in this sweet, innocent voice in front of everyone.” “But here’s the kicker. I had someone pull the security footage.” “The day before yesterday, Chuck personally took her to that couture shop. He was there for the measurements, helped her pick the style, the whole nine yards.” An invisible hand squeezed my heart tight. Zara scoffed. “It gets worse.” “I hacked into her private photo album. The password was Chuck’s birthday.” “It’s filled with pictures of them. Intimate, everyday moments.” I hung up and opened the folder of photos Zara had sent. Lila’s album was titled My Knight. The latest post was from two days ago. Mr. Croft said this gown is mine and mine alone, just like him. He’s going to make things official at the family gala next week. The accompanying photo was of a breathtakingly beautiful gown, identical to the one on the collection receipt. The fabric was a one-of-a-kind piece Chuck had recently purchased at a high price from an old master artisan, a piece he’d told me was for my wedding anniversary gift. I scrolled down. On a night when I was falling apart, Mr. C drove across the city just to be with me. He brought my favorite white chocolate and held me all night. He said that from now on, with him here, he would never let me suffer again. The photo was of Chuck’s sleeping profile, his brow slightly furrowed, one hand holding Lila’s tightly. The picture was taken in our marital bed. In the home I had poured my heart and soul into designing, a place filled with our memories. I scrolled down again. My new car from Mr. C! He even had the interior customized in my favorite color! He said it’s my own private pumpkin carriage that will take me to the castle. The photo was a selfie of her in the driver’s seat, showing off the logo on the steering wheel. It was the new car Chuck had brought home last week. The phone slipped from my numb fingers, the screen shattering on the floor. I sank into the sofa, every ounce of strength drained from my body. Eight years. Eight years, from a schoolgirl’s uniform to a white wedding dress. The promises he made, the things he did for me—they were all now a red-hot brand, searing my heart over and over again. He said he loved me, yet he held another woman in our bed. He said he had a meeting, yet he was comforting another woman in the middle of the night. He said I was his only rose, yet he had a wedding dress and a new title ready for someone else. My stomach churned violently. I ran to the bathroom and threw up until I was empty. Why? What did I do wrong? Chuck, how could you do this to me? My heart was torn to shreds, the pain making it impossible to breathe. I leaned against the cold wall, crying until I had no more tears. But then, somewhere in the middle of the sobs, I started to laugh. I stood up and splashed cold water on my face. My pain wouldn’t earn his guilt, and my tears were worthless. Chuck, you want to make things official for her? Fine. I’ll give you the stage. Just then, Chuck pushed the door open. Seeing my state, his expression changed instantly. “Selene, what’s wrong? Why is your face so pale?” He rushed over, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. I lifted my face, my red, swollen eyes meeting his. “Chuck, I think… I can’t do this anymore.” He froze, a perfectly crafted look of panic and heartbreak appearing on his face. “Where does it hurt? We’re going to the hospital, right now!” He moved to grab his coat. “Don’t.” I grabbed his wrist. “It’s just… my heart. It feels so heavy.” Chuck stopped. He knelt, taking my hands in his, his face a mask of regret. “It’s all my fault. I’ve been so focused on work, I’ve ignored how you feel.” “Selene, listen to me. The business isn’t important. Nothing is important. Only you.” “I’ll clear my schedule tomorrow. Let’s go to Aspen, how about that? I know you’ve always wanted to see the snow.” His words were so earnest, as if all my pain was simply the result of his neglect, not his betrayal. I looked at him and suddenly smiled. “Okay.” “Whatever you say.” The family gala the following week was actually the Croft Corporation’s annual shareholder dinner. The Crofts were an old-money dynasty, and the event was a massive affair held at their sprawling family estate. As the most brilliant heir of the third generation, Chuck was the center of attention. He wore a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, moving through the crowd of elites with an easy smile and confident grace. My mother-in-law, dripping in jewels, stood beside him, her face beaming with pride. His grandfather, the patriarch of the Croft empire, sat in the seat of honor, leaning on a dragon-headed cane, his presence formidable. “Selene, come here.” The old man beckoned to me. I walked over, and he patted the empty seat beside him. “Sit.” “We have important guests tonight. Don’t walk around with such a long face. People will think the Croft family mistreats you.” “Chuck is out there building an empire. You need to learn to be the woman behind him. Be gentler, more considerate.” “And it’s about time we heard some news about that belly of yours!” His words were soft, but they carried an undeniable weight. I lowered my eyes and said nothing. He seemed ready to continue his lecture when Chuck approached with a glass of champagne. “Grandfather, are you lecturing Selene again?” He stood naturally behind me, his hand resting on the back of my chair as he smiled at the old man. “Selene hasn’t been feeling well lately. I’ve told her to worry less and rest more.” He was always like this, flawlessly maintaining the facade of the devoted husband in public, giving me the utmost respect. The patriarch grunted and turned to speak to someone else. Chuck leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Don’t listen to him. I like you just the way you are.” I smiled, my gaze drifting over his shoulder to a figure who had no business being here. Lila. She wore a blush-pink slip dress, draped with a white silk shawl. Her long hair was in soft waves, her makeup clean and fresh. She had an expression that was a mixture of timidity and poorly concealed triumph. Her hand rested unconsciously on her lower abdomen. She was standing not far away, beside one of Chuck’s cousins, pretending to be his date for the evening. Chuck’s eyes flickered in her direction. It was only for a second before he looked away. But I saw it clearly—the flash of joy and the certainty of possession in that one glance. Halfway through the evening, it was time for the patriarch’s speech, where he would announce the company’s major plans for the coming year. As the heir, Chuck was called to the stage. He took the microphone and started by reporting on the year’s impressive performance. Then, his tone shifted. His gaze swept across the room, finally landing on me. “I also want to thank my grandfather, my uncles, and most importantly, my wife, Selene Croft.” Every eye in the room turned to me. “However,” he paused. “Tonight, I must also announce a difficult decision.” His eyes finally moved away from mine, becoming cold and unfamiliar. “I, Chuck Croft, will be filing for a divorce from Selene.” The entire hall erupted in murmurs. Guests whispered amongst themselves. “What? A divorce?” “What’s going on? They always seemed so in love.” “My God, announcing a divorce at the family gala? Is he insane?” The patriarch’s face darkened. He tapped his cane on the floor and barked, “Chuck! What is this nonsense!” Chuck ignored him, his voice chillingly calm. “This is not nonsense.” “Selene and I have irreconcilable differences. Our marriage has been over in all but name for a long time.” “For years, she has been consumed by her own career, neglecting the care and support that a husband and a home deserve.” “That is, until I met a girl who is willing to put family first. A girl who is willing to build a home with me.” “And… she is carrying my child. I have to be responsible for her. I have to give her the position she deserves.” He turned, extending his hand in Lila’s direction. “Lila, come up here.” With tears streaming down her face, Lila gathered her dress and, in the dead silence, walked step by step onto the stage. She reached Chuck’s side and he pulled her into a fierce embrace. He bent down and lovingly kissed a tear from the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry you had to go through this.” Then, he looked up, fixing me with the gaze of a judge passing sentence. “Selene, for the sake of the years we spent together, if you leave quietly now, we can both maintain a shred of dignity.” “I will give you a generous settlement, enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life.” “But if you insist on making a scene, you will be the only one who ends up humiliated.” He had calculated everything. To do this, in this place, in this way, was to nail me to a pillar of shame. He wanted everyone to know that I, Selene, was the barren wife, clinging to a title I didn’t deserve, while he was the victim, a man simply seeking true love and a family. I looked at the hypocritical couple on stage, at the patriarch’s face, which had shifted from rage to deep disappointment. I smiled. And step by step, I walked onto the stage. I took the other microphone from the host’s hand. Every camera, every pair of eyes, instantly focused on me.

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1 I was choking on a piece of food when Isabelle was on the dance floor with a male model. My face was turning a deep, desperate shade of crimson as I begged her for help, but she just shot me a look of pure annoyance, as if I was ruining her fun, and dragged the model away. It wasn’t until I was on the verge of collapsing that a waiter saw me and saved my life. But when Isabelle returned, she walked right past me, slapped the waitress across the face, and then pointed a finger at me, her voice dripping with venom. “I leave you alone for one minute, and you’re already hitting on other women!” “I guess you don’t really want to get married after all. Fine, we can postpone it. Again.” Usually, when she threatened me like that, I would have scrambled, desperate to explain myself. But this time, I was just… tired. A profound exhaustion settled deep in my bones. After her words, a dead silence fell over the private room. Isabelle sat down, her brow furrowed, saying nothing. I knew what she was doing. She was waiting for me to bow my head and apologize, just like I had on a thousand other nights. I looked at my reflection in the dark glass of the window—the man staring back was a ghost, his face a bloodless mask. The exhaustion was overwhelming. I didn’t offer an explanation. I didn’t try to win her back. I simply stood up and walked out. Behind me, I heard a mocking voice—the model, Leo. “Ms. Lin, I think Mr. Chen is angry. Aren’t you going to go after him?” Isabelle’s voice was a blade of ice, laced with undisguised contempt. “Him? As if. Give him two days. He’ll come crawling back with an apology.” That was what she truly thought of me. But she was wrong. For the next week, I didn’t contact her once. Just when I thought the relationship was finally over, Isabelle showed up at my apartment one evening, completely unannounced. I was in the middle of a lighthearted chat with a friend on my phone when I heard the sound of a key in the lock. The smile faded from my face. I watched calmly as Isabelle pushed the door open, a sense of distance growing between us. Her eyes scanned my face, and she frowned slightly. “Have you calmed down now?” Those words almost made me laugh. Oh, I had more than calmed down. In the past few days, I had canceled the tuxedo fitting and given notice on our apartment. As soon as my current project was finished, I was leaving this city for good. The room was silent. Isabelle walked toward me, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “Have you gained weight?” I paused, the glass of water halfway to my lips. I hadn’t gained or lost a single pound. She thought I looked bigger because, for the past week, she’d been spending all her time with someone skinnier than me. Isabelle let out a small sigh of relief, then placed a gift box in front of me. “Well, you can’t blame me for this one,” she said, her tone teasing. “It’s your own fault for getting fat.” I opened the box. Inside was a slim-fit suit, two sizes too small for me. I said “thank you” and set it aside. My new haircut was a bit short, and I ran a hand over it. Isabelle’s gaze followed my movement, and she froze. “When did you get your hair cut?” I didn’t stop, my voice flat. “A few days ago.” She fell silent. In her version of events, a pathetic man like me would either be crying his eyes out or starving himself. He certainly wouldn’t have the peace of mind to get a haircut. A bitter look crossed her face. She turned and went into the bathroom to wash up, but when she looked up at the mirror, she realized all her things were gone. Her brow furrowed. “Where are my face wash and my toothbrush?” I’d thrown them out days ago. It had never even occurred to me that she would come back. I was so lost in my plans for the future that I didn’t notice her walking up to me until she was right there. Her voice was soft, with a hint of pleading. “Don’t be angry anymore. I was upset, that’s why I said those things. Don’t worry, the wedding is still on.” The wedding that was supposed to happen a year ago had been postponed again and again. She had me wrapped around her little finger, turning me into a laughingstock among my friends and family. Seeing my silence, she assumed—as always—that I had forgiven her without question. She reached out to touch me. But in that instant, the sharp, woody scent of cypress filled my nostrils. It was the same cologne the model, Leo, had been wearing. The image of the two of them, intertwined and whispering, flashed in my mind, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I shoved her away and ran for the bathroom. 2 Isabelle stumbled back, her face turning ashen as she stared at the bathroom door. She let out a cold, sharp laugh, then slammed the front door behind her as she left. Faced with her blatant silent treatment, I felt nothing. No sadness, no anger. I tossed the suit into the trash can and went to bed. The next day, after work, I met up with a friend for dinner. I had just walked into the restaurant when someone, holding a glass of wine, bumped into me hard. The wine splashed all over both of us, leaving dark stains on our clothes. It was Leo. When he saw it was me, he sneered and just stood there, his face a sullen mask. Isabelle, who had been following him, froze for a second, then took off Leo’s jacket and shoved it at me. “You upset him. You can wash this for him.” Leo barely suppressed a grin, murmuring, “Isabelle, I don’t know… Evan’s a grown man.” Isabelle just smiled, taking his hand. “And are your hands suited for doing laundry?” Her words made me look down at my own hands. They were dry and rough, the hands of someone used to manual labor. Because so many of Isabelle’s clothes were delicate and had to be hand-washed, I had done it without complaint for five years. And the result? In her eyes, I had become someone only fit for menial tasks. The memory stung. I shook my head and held the jacket back out to her. “You should take this to a dry cleaner.” Isabelle was stunned. In her memory, I had never once refused a single request she’d made. She had just assumed I would fall in line. My defiance was a slap in the face. Her expression hardened, and she stared at me without a word. The stress and exhaustion of the past few days had weakened my immune system. I coughed twice. Isabelle’s brow knitted in annoyance. “Evan, don’t play the victim with me. You’re perfectly healthy. You’re just lazy!” She refused to take the jacket, instead grabbing Leo’s hand and pulling him towards the exit. “Forget that one. I’ll buy you a new one.” As they walked away, I casually draped the jacket over a chair and turned to find my friend, Alex, looking for me. “Whoa, what happened to you? Your shirt is soaked!” he exclaimed. I didn’t want to ruin his evening. I threw an arm around his shoulder and guided him inside. “It’s nothing, just an accident.” “You should go home and change.” I waved him off. “It’ll dry. We haven’t hung out in forever. Let’s eat first!” After dinner and a long chat with Alex, it was already nine o’clock when I got home. The damp clothes had dried against my skin. I touched my face and realized I felt hot. A thermometer confirmed it: 103 degrees. I took some medicine and fell into a feverish sleep. At one in the morning, Isabelle burst into my apartment and shook me awake violently. I pried my heavy eyelids open to see her furious face looming over me. “Where did you throw Leo’s jacket?” she seethed. “It was a birthday gift from his mother! He’s heartbroken. Find it, now!” The high fever made my brain sluggish. It took me a few seconds to process her words. “Can it wait until morning?” I mumbled. “No! Get up and go now!” My whole body ached as I sat numbly on the edge of the bed, fumbling for my slippers. Isabelle thought I was deliberately stalling and her temper flared. “Evan, I never knew you could be so cruel, deliberately bullying someone younger than you.” The sheer injustice of her words made me tremble with a rage that cut through the feverish haze. I gritted my teeth, pulled on my pajamas and slippers, and followed her back to the restaurant. We waited there until ten the next morning before she finally got the jacket back. She let out a sigh of relief, only then seeming to notice my thin clothes and flushed face. But before she could say anything, I passed out. When I woke up, Isabelle was sitting by my bedside. She immediately stood up, looking tired and a little guilty. “Evan, you fainted from the fever. Are you feeling any better? What would you like to eat?” I just gave her a cold, empty look and said nothing. Knowing she was in the wrong, Isabelle spoke softly. “You have to eat something. I’ll go get you some soup.” She turned and left the room. The sleep hadn’t been long, but it had cleared my head completely. 3 I pulled out my phone and started scrolling. It didn’t take long to find a new post from Leo. “Brothers, it’s true: a good woman will always stand by you. I told my girl the jacket was a birthday gift from my mom, and she was so worried she found it for me first thing in the morning! Even after I told her the truth, she couldn’t bring herself to be mad at me! Plus, she brought me my favorite croissants and pastries.” I glanced at it and scrolled on without a second thought. I opened up my client’s order information. It was in the final payment stage. Once they confirmed receipt, I would get my commission. The door clicked open, and Isabelle walked in with bags of food. Croissants, pastries, savory muffins—nothing I actually liked. I glanced at the bags and didn’t move. Isabelle looked at me, nagging, “You’re just starting to recover. You should eat something.” I was double-checking the client’s information, focusing on a few key numbers, and my brain automatically tuned her out. Isabelle’s hand, which had been about to serve me food, froze. She stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly snatched the phone from my hands. “What are you looking at that’s so—” Her voice died in her throat. Her usually cool expression was replaced with pure shock. “You changed your phone’s password?” For the five years we were together, my password had always been a combination of her birthday digits. But after what happened at the club, I changed it immediately. Isabelle looked at me with a complex expression, turning my phone over and over in her hands. “You changed the wallpaper, too… Evan, you don’t love me anymore.” Her tone was so close to a pout that it almost made me gag. I took a quick sip of water to force the feeling down. Seeing my indifference, Isabelle’s temper began to rise. A thought seemed to strike her, and her voice turned cold and accusatory. “Why did you cancel the tuxedo fitting? Didn’t you like the one we picked?” A strange feeling washed over me. In the two years since we’d been engaged, Isabelle had never shown the slightest interest in the wedding details. Why the sudden concern about my suit? “It was ugly,” I said casually. “I didn’t want it anymore.” “With your pathetic sense of style?” Her arrogance and condescension resurfaced as she looked down on me. “That suit was a custom design from Paris. There’s a limit to how much of a scene you can make, Evan. Don’t push it, or you’ll be the one who ends up embarrassed.” For a moment, I felt a dizzying sense of disbelief. How spineless must I have been in the past for her to be so confident that I would never leave? But she didn’t give me a chance to argue. She stood up and hurried out, her rushed steps almost looking like she was fleeing. The thought was almost funny. My work was wrapping up. Over the next few days, I shipped my belongings home in batches. On my last day, Isabelle called. “Evan, come to the office. I need to talk to you.” Her voice sounded urgent. I had no intention of seeing her again, but after a moment’s thought, I decided to go. I took a cab to her company. It was noon, when everyone should have been leaving for lunch, but the lobby was eerily quiet and empty. Suspicious, I pushed open the main doors. The next second, dozens of party poppers exploded above my head, showering me with confetti. Before I could react, a group of people rushed forward, smearing cake all over my face and hair. I was completely covered, struggling to breathe. Then everything went black as I tripped over something and fell to the ground. I waved my hands frantically, trying to make them stop. But a figure holding an ice bucket ran towards me, laughing as they dumped its contents all over my head. I was a complete, sopping mess. Leo, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit with his hair impeccably styled, laughed out loud. “Happy birthday, Evan!” he cheered, snapping pictures of me with his phone. The other employees seemed to sense the strange atmosphere and fell silent. Isabelle helped me to my feet and handed me a gift box. “Evan, are you happy with your birthday surprise this year? Go on, open your gift.” I stood there, drenched and humiliated, a clown in her circus. And she had the audacity to ask if I was happy. I violently slapped the box out of her hands. 4 I turned and stalked towards the bathroom. Isabelle’s face contorted in anger. “Evan, don’t be so ungrateful!” she yelled at my back. I grabbed a handful of paper towels and tried to clean myself up in a stall. A few moments later, some of her employees came in. “That Leo guy did that on purpose, right?” one of them whispered. “Who smears cake all over someone’s entire head? And suggesting that ice water thing… I can’t believe Ms. Lin actually agreed to it.” “Yeah, and look at him, all dressed up like a prince, while he made Evan look like a beggar.” The voices faded. I took a deep breath. Once I had cleaned up as best I could, I walked out, filled an empty mop bucket with dirty water from the janitor’s closet, and headed back to the lobby. Leo was in the center of the room, putting on a show for everyone. Isabelle was at the piano, smiling as she played his accompaniment. Some of her fangirl employees were even fawning over them as a couple. I walked straight up behind Leo. Before he could react, I dumped the entire bucket of filthy water over his head. In an instant, his proud, preened appearance was transformed into that of a drowned rat. Leo stood there, stunned, before letting out a furious curse, his face twisting into an ugly snarl. Isabelle immediately took off her own blazer and wrapped it around him. “Evan, have you lost your mind?” I cut her off, my voice calm and steady. “We’re done.” She started to say something, but her eyes fell on my neck. Her expression changed. “You’re having an allergic reaction.” Isabelle moved towards me, grabbing my shoulders to get a closer look at the red rash breaking out on my skin. The cake had contained almond flour, which I’m severely allergic to. If I hadn’t washed it off immediately, it could have been much worse. I violently shoved her hands away, stumbling back several steps to put distance between us. The rejection clearly stung her; her face went blank for a second. She looked at me, hurt. In her mind, she had been trying to make peace for days, even planning this party for me. And here I was, publicly humiliating her again and again. But the sight of the rash on my skin seemed to bring her back. She forced a smile and picked up the gift box I had knocked to the floor. She opened it. Inside was a mechanical watch, exactly my style. It was the most generous and thoughtful gift she had given me in all the years we’d been together. But looking at it, I felt nothing. A flash of jealousy crossed Leo’s eyes. He put on a pained, conciliatory expression. “Evan, don’t be mad. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have suggested such a crazy idea.” He looked pathetic, yet he was the one backing down, playing the part of the victim. Isabelle didn’t even look at him. Her eyes were locked on me. My phone buzzed. It was HR, telling me to come sign my final papers. As I turned to leave, Isabelle blocked my path. “We need to talk,” she said stubbornly. “You don’t answer my calls, you don’t reply to my texts. I have no idea what you’re thinking.” I glanced at my watch, unwilling to waste any more time here. “Fine,” I said slowly. “Come to my place tonight.” Isabelle visibly relaxed. She opened her mouth to say something else, but I was already walking away. What I’d said was a lie, just to get her off my back. That night, I was flying to Silver Creek. After finishing up at HR, I went straight home to get my luggage. Isabelle, for once, sent me a text to let me know her plans. I’ll be home in about two hours. What do you want to eat? I’ll pick it up on the way. I looked at the plane ticket in my hand. “Whatever,” I typed back. An hour later, she sent me a picture of the sunset. It was something we used to do when we were first in love, a habit that had slowly faded away. But even seeing it now, I felt no flicker of emotion. Half an hour later, Isabelle called. “Evan, you won’t believe my luck. I’m stuck in traffic. I might be a little late.” At that exact moment, an announcement echoed through the airport terminal, calling for passengers on my flight to begin boarding. There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line, then her voice, sharp with disbelief. “What was that sound? Evan, where are you?”

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My estranged daughter suddenly appeared on a popular daytime talk show. “Before I was fifteen, I was the happiest kid in the world,” she told the host, her voice trembling. “But then, my mother just… changed.” “When I was so depressed I wanted to kill myself, my own mother told me to go ahead and die.” “From that year on, she barely spoke to me. She didn’t even come to my wedding, or see her own grandchild.” “I don’t know why she did it,” she sobbed, looking directly into the camera. “But no matter what, I want to say, ‘Mom, I will always love you.’” Later, the show’s producers contacted me, hoping to orchestrate a televised reconciliation. I refused without a second thought. Watching her fraudulent performance, I scoffed. “That piece of trash,” I muttered to the empty room. “She doesn’t deserve a mother.” … I had just gotten home when my old friend called. “Sarah, your Jessie is on TV. It’s The Ashton Pierce Show. You need to see this.” I turned on the television. I hadn’t seen my daughter, Jessica, in years. She was only twenty-eight, but she looked haggard, more like forty. What came out of her mouth next, however, was a fresh reminder of her bottomless capacity for deceit. “I was fifteen, I was a teenager,” she wept to the host. “Isn’t it normal to be a little rebellious?” “I just suddenly didn’t want to go to school anymore. There was no other reason. I wasn’t getting into any real trouble.” “My mom is a teacher. She’s supposed to be the best at educating people, but with me… she had no patience at all.” “I talked back to her a few times, and I joked that I didn’t want to live anymore. But she just looked at me, cold as ice, and told me to go die.” I remembered that day. It was our first truly terrible fight. After I said those words, she had thrown on a jacket and run out. We lived on the fourth floor. She climbed out the hallway window and jumped. There was a pile of junk the neighbors had put out for collection down below. She landed on it. There was blood everywhere, but she didn’t die. Her father had run down in a panic, calling an ambulance to rush her to the hospital. Now, she recounted it with a tearful, wounded voice. “My own mother… while I was lying in a pool of my own blood, dying… she just walked past me without a word. She went to work like it was any other day.” “I was in the hospital for over a month. My mother never visited me. Not once.” The live comments on the screen exploded. [How can anyone be that cold-blooded? That’s her own daughter.] [Suddenly my mom seems like an angel, even when she grounds me for a month.] [And she’s a teacher? Someone doxx this woman and get her fired!] I trembled as I read the venomous comments. How did she have the audacity to say these things? The host offered some comforting words. Jessica wiped her tears and continued. “When I finally came home, my mom just stopped talking to me completely. And because of her, my dad became distant, too.” “Before I was fifteen, we went on a family vacation every year. After that, we didn’t even go to the mall together on a weekend.” She claimed she spent her entire high school life suffering under my silent, cold abuse. “After graduation,” she went on, “I wanted a laptop for college. The only thing she said to me was that I didn’t deserve one.” “Later, she told me I was an adult and she didn’t have to support me anymore. She threw me out of the house.” “It’s been over a decade. My graduation, my wedding, the birth of my child… she wasn’t there for any of it. My dad gave me a check for a thousand dollars for my wedding, and that was it.” She turned to the camera again, her eyes pleading. “Mom, I really do love you. It’s been so long. Can’t we let go of whatever grudge this is?” “Thanksgiving is just around the corner. Can’t we please be a family again?” She sobbed so hard she could barely breathe. The live feed went wild with a fresh wave of vitriol. The producers quickly disabled the comments. It would be a lie to say the hateful words didn’t hurt. But if I had to do it all over again, I would make the same choice. The pain of a toxic family has always been a hot-button issue. After the live broadcast, clips of her interview went viral. As expected, I, the heartless mother, was subjected to a brutal online mobbing. Netizens figured out which university I taught at, even though I was already retired. The school’s official website, forums, and alumni pages were flooded with condemnations and insults. [This university is cursed to have a teacher like her.] [You need to vet for character, not just academic credentials. Otherwise, you’re just producing garbage.] [To give birth but not to raise is to be less than human!] [She has a good public reputation, but she tortures her own child at home. She’s a monster.] A few former colleagues and students tried to defend me, but their voices were drowned out in the deluge of hate. The university called me in. In the president’s office, he looked pained. “Sarah, given the public outcry, we’re temporarily removing your profile from the distinguished faculty page. I hope you understand.” “But rest assured,” he added quickly, “we’ve worked together for decades. We know the kind of person you are. The truth will come out eventually, and we will restore your honors.” I told him I understood. But when I saw my name vanish from the school’s website, a career of over thirty years of hard work erased in an instant, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. When I got back to my apartment building, the scene outside my door made me freeze. The door was covered in red spray paint. Words like MONSTER and TRASH were scrawled across it, with vile curses covering the entire wall. The floor was splattered with some foul-smelling, unknown liquid. I didn’t dare go inside. I hid in the nearby stairwell, my hands shaking as I called my husband, Rob. He rushed home immediately. Our next-door neighbor heard the commotion and peeked out. Seeing us, she let out a sigh of relief. “Sarah, those people were awful. If I hadn’t threatened to call the police, they were going to wait for you.” “I recorded them,” she said, handing me her phone. “If you want to report it, this is evidence.” I looked at the video. The man leading the pack was horribly familiar. It was that troublemaker from years ago. My daughter’s husband, Kyle. “I don’t know what happened between you and your daughter,” our neighbor said kindly, “but you two are good people. I know you’re not like that.” After thanking her, I copied the video to my computer. My husband, Rob, a typically mild-mannered man, was seething. “Sarah, we have to call the police.” Two days of online harassment had sent my blood pressure soaring. My head was spinning, but I knew it wasn’t time yet. “Let’s just wait,” I said. Rob hesitated. “Sarah… my office saw the interview. And some people showed up there, too.” “The director… he suggested I take some time off. A leave of absence.” “What?!” I cried out. “But you’re retiring in two months! A leave of absence now will affect your pension, your record!” “This is a nightmare,” Rob sighed, his voice full of despair. “We never should have had her.” He was never good with words, but he held me close. “It’s okay. The pension will be a little less, but we have enough to live on.” He knew it wasn’t the money I cared about. It was his reputation, built over decades of dedicated work, now tarnished. The events of the past few days stoked the embers of resentment I held for my daughter into a raging fire. “Honey,” Rob said quietly. “Do you think… maybe Jessie is in some kind of trouble?” “Does she not have our address? Does she not have our phone number? No, Rob! She’s using public opinion to force our hand!” “Have you already forgotten the lesson we learned the last time we were soft-hearted?” At the mention of that, he fell silent. For the next few days, I felt the stares and heard the whispers whenever I went out for groceries. I decided to stop leaving the apartment altogether. The vandalism incident had prompted the building management to tighten security, so at least we had a couple of days of peace. Buzzzzzzz. A loud humming sound from outside the window caught my attention. A drone was hovering right outside our living room. Hanging from it was a banner. The words made the blood rush to my head. Printed in blood-red letters on a white cloth, it read: DAUGHTER ABANDONER DESERVES TO DIE! The world tilted. I felt a wave of dizziness, and then everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital room. Rob was by my side, his face etched with worry. He let out a huge breath when he saw I was awake. “The person flying the drone has been arrested, honey. I called the police. Don’t you worry.” At the police station, the drone operator admitted he was just paid to do it. He’d seen the story online and thought I was a terrible mother. Seeing me collapse and the ambulance arrive had scared him half to death. “I just thought I was helping fight an injustice!” he’d told the police. “It was that guy, Kyle. He said we were using righteousness to defeat evil.” “I thought it was just a banner! I never meant to hurt anyone!” He’d even handed over the cash Kyle had paid him. The police relayed the story to us and asked how we wanted to proceed. I knew who the real source of the problem was. I didn’t want to press charges against the drone operator. After a fine and a formal statement, they let him go. Seeing my pale face, Rob squeezed my hand. “Sarah, maybe we should move.” “That rotten kid… what in God’s name is he trying to do?” I shook my head. “With the internet, where could we possibly move that they wouldn’t find us?” My collapse was due to high blood pressure, so the doctors wanted to keep me for a week of observation. I had a sinking feeling. If they could get to me at home, the hospital wouldn’t be a sanctuary. “Rob,” I said, “go home and get that folder from my desk. I have a feeling I’m going to need it soon.” He nodded without question and left. I had barely closed my eyes to rest when a commotion erupted outside my room. A moment later, a familiar voice cut through the noise. “Mom! Are you okay, Mom?” I opened my eyes to see Jessica kneeling by my bedside, clutching my hand. Behind her stood the camera crew from the TV show. I tried to pull my hand away, but she gripped it tighter. “Mom, please,” she wept. “Stop being stubborn with me, okay?” A surge of anger shot through me. “Are you blind? You’re pressing on my IV!” She looked down and saw the tube backing up with blood. She let go with a sheepish smile. “I was just so worried about you. I got carried away. Can’t you just talk to me nicely for once?” There were other patients in the room, and a small crowd had gathered at the door. I didn’t want to engage with her. I just turned my head away. The reporter stepped forward. “Mrs. Miller? Hi, I’m from The Ashton Pierce Show. We were contacted by your daughter, Jessica. It seems there’s been a terrible misunderstanding between you two.” “It’s clear she loves you very much. Perhaps now is a good time to clear the air? With Thanksgiving coming up, it would be wonderful for your family to reunite.” I closed my eyes. “There is no misunderstanding. Please leave. I don’t have a daughter.” “Mom!” Jessica cried out, desperate. I saw the man lurking by the door—Kyle—and all the recent events flashed through my mind. I looked Jessica straight in the eye. “I said, you are not my daughter. You two pieces of trash are not worthy!” A collective gasp went through the room. The other patients began to whisper. “Wow, what kind of hate is that? To say something so awful on camera.” “The internet was right. She doesn’t deserve to be a mother. Calling her own daughter trash.” “Yeah, if her daughter is trash, what does that make her? The whole dumpster, hahaha.” The crowd snickered. The words hit me like a physical blow, and my face went pale. The reporter’s expression soured. She clearly hadn’t expected me to be so blunt. “Mrs. Miller, I should remind you, this is a live broadcast. Everything you’re saying is going out to thousands of viewers. Please choose your words carefully.” Jessica remained kneeling, momentarily speechless. The man at the door, Kyle, cleared his throat. That was her cue. Jessica snapped back into character. “Mom, what did I do wrong? You used to love me so much, didn’t you?” She pulled a small, worn doll from her bag. “Mom, look. You made this for me when I was a little girl. I’ve kept it safe all these years.” I stared at the little stuffed monkey. For a moment, I was transported back. I had made that for her twelfth birthday. Then, I snapped. I snatched it from her hand and hurled it out the open window. “Get out! I will never acknowledge you as my daughter!” Jessica shrieked and lunged for the window, pretending she was going to jump out to retrieve the doll. The reporter grabbed her. “Mrs. Miller, are you really this heartless?” the reporter yelled, holding Jessica back. “She cares about you so much!” “Let her go,” I said, my voice flat. “She’s faking it.” The reporter hesitated. Jessica, realizing her bluff was called, sank to her knees in front of me again and started slapping her own face. “Yes, that’s right! In your eyes, I’m always faking it!” she cried. “When I jumped from our building at fifteen, fractured my skull, and bled all over the pavement, was I faking it then, too?” “When you threw me out of the house and I had to live without a mother or father, was that also an act?” With just a few sentences, she had perfectly cemented my image as the cruel, unfeeling monster. I could only imagine what the live comments looked like now. A woman from the next bed rushed over and held her arms. “Honey, stop! There’s no grudge between a mother and daughter that can’t be fixed. This has gone too far.” A nurse, drawn by the noise, came to tell us to be quiet, then stopped dead in her tracks at the scene. “Excuse me, coming through.” Rob had returned. He looked startled by the crowd. Seeing I was okay, he relaxed, but then he saw our daughter kneeling on the floor. His soft heart took over, and he moved to help her up. “Don’t you touch her!” I commanded. I glared at Jessica. “I’m asking you one last time. Are you leaving, or not?”

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1 I gave up my heiress life to marry Ethan Geller. Right before our wedding, a car crash left me blind. In the darkness, I heard Ethan tell his assistant: “The driver and doctor are silenced. Ms. Christian donated her corneas and will never see again.” “Selene is strong, unlike Lily who can’t live without sight. I’ll care for Selene, but I can’t lose Lily.” His voice turned cold: “Have the doctor remove her uterus. Seeing me with Selene’s child would destroy Lily.” The assistant protested: “But she’s been with you since eighteen—” “Just obey.” An icy chill seized me. The man I loved had chosen the scholarship student I sponsored, and destroyed me for her. So be it. He’d receive no mercy. Footsteps echoed in the hospital room. I forced myself to stay calm, to feign unconsciousness. “Mr. Geller, Ms. Christian just had her corneas removed. Her body is incredibly weak. If we remove her uterus now… she might not survive the stress. I strongly advise we wait…” “I pay you to follow my orders, not to give me advice. This is a command, not a discussion. But if anything happens to Selene, you know the consequences.” The doctor’s voice trembled. “Yes, Mr. Geller.” I felt the searing heat of Ethan’s fingers on my cheek. His voice was a husky, gentle whisper. “Selene, my love. It’ll all be over soon. Don’t worry, I’ll always be here to protect you. I love you, Selene.” A faint tremor ran through me. I felt a cool drop on my cheek, and it seemed like Ethan stood up. Sensing I was about to wake, his voice turned sharp and cold. “Where’s the doctor? Prep for surgery, now. I want it done before she wakes up.” My eyes shot open in terror, but all I saw was an endless, suffocating black. Tears streamed down my face as my hands flailed in the empty air. “I… why can’t I see?” “Selene, don’t be scared. I’m here. I’m right here.” Ethan pulled me into a tight embrace, his large, warm hand stroking my hair. His deep voice was thick with what sounded like heartbreak. “There was an accident… The doctors say the blindness is only temporary. I’ll take care of you, Selene…” He seemed to nod to someone over my shoulder before continuing. “Shh, you need to rest. You can’t get too emotional right now. The doctor is just going to give you a vitamin shot to help you recover.” If I hadn’t woken up early, if I hadn’t heard everything, I would have believed him without a second thought. But I knew. I knew the so-called vitamin shot was anesthesia, meant to drag me back under. I gripped his arm, my voice a choked sob as I shook my head wildly. “No… Ethan, I don’t want it… I want to go home. Please, can we just go home…?” Before I could finish, the cold prick of a needle pierced my skin. As my consciousness dissolved into blackness, the last thing I heard was Ethan’s voice, as gentle as it had always been. “It’s okay, Selene. Just sleep. It’ll be all over when you wake up. I’m here. You’re going to be okay.” Silent tears traced paths down my temples. My body was numb, but my heart was being torn apart. I closed my eyes, succumbing to the despair. In the darkness, an image flashed—an eighteen-year-old Ethan, his eyes red and swollen, crying by my bedside, calling me a fool for taking a knife for him. The boy’s fierce, unwavering promise echoed in my mind. “Selene, I swear, I will never let anyone hurt you again.” But the one who hurt me the most, the one who was taking my life piece by piece, was him. The next time I woke, I hadn’t just lost my eyes and the man I loved. I had lost the chance to ever have a child of my own. I opened my eyes to a room so quiet all I could hear was my own shallow breathing. Soon, the faint sound of an argument drifted in from the hallway. “Selene had an accident! I have to take care of her. She’s been so good to me. If it wasn’t for her, I’d still be in the slums. I owe her my life, you can’t stop me…” It was Lily, the student I’d sponsored. And Ethan, a man who never tolerated defiance, spoke with no trace of anger. “Lily, listen to me. Your eyes just healed. The doctor said you need to rest, you can’t be moving around. Selene will have people to look after her. You don’t need to worry.” My hand clenched the bedsheets. When did Lily go blind? And why didn’t I know anything about it? A sharp sting on the back of my hand made me flinch. A nurse had jabbed a needle into my vein. “Don’t move!” she snapped, her voice dripping with irritation. She pressed down harder, as if to punish me. “Some people have all the luck. They get to attend to Mr. Geller’s precious Lily, and I’m stuck here with a blind wreck.” Her muttering continued, “If Miss Lily would just put in a good word for me with Mr. Geller, I’d never have to look at another pathetic patient like you again…” CRASH! The sound of a glass vial shattering on the floor cut her off. “Ah! Who dares— M-Mr. Geller! What are you doing here…?” The nurse’s voice went from angry to terrified. Ethan’s voice, cold with fury, echoed through the room, making my blood run cold. “Get out. And never let me see you again.” A familiar warmth enveloped me as his body, trembling slightly, surrounded me. His voice was thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Selene. I’m late. I’m so sorry you had to go through that…” A bitter smile twisted my lips. Compared to having my eyes and my womb stolen by him, this was nothing. But he seemed consumed by remorse, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” I whispered. “I want to go home.” His warm breath ghosted across my neck. “As soon as the doctor clears you, I’ll take you home.” He didn’t know that the home I meant wasn’t his villa. It was the Christian estate, the seat of one of the capital’s most powerful families. Years ago, during a period of internal turmoil within the family, my father sent me to the coastal city of Seacliff to hide. But my enemies found me anyway. I was cornered in an alley when Ethan appeared, taking a knife that was meant for me. In that single moment, love at first sight became my reality. We ended up at the same university, falling into a passionate romance that was the envy of everyone around us. That was when Lily appeared. I saw her eating plain bread for every meal, and my heart went out to her, recognizing her talent. So, I decided to sponsor her. She was endlessly grateful, and we became inseparable friends. I just never knew when she and Ethan ended up in the same bed. Or when he started loving her instead of me. Ethan tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Selene, let’s go ahead with the wedding tomorrow, okay? I can’t wait to make you my wife, to call you Mrs. Geller.” The wedding I had dreamed of for years now felt like a nightmare waiting to happen. I shook my head softly. “No.” He was stunned by my refusal. He let go of me, explaining with uncharacteristic patience, “I know you’re scared. Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything. I’ll make sure no one dares to say a word about your… condition. Lily will be your maid of honor, she’ll help you.” “And the officiant is Julian Christian, the head of the Christian family from the capital. I promised you the grandest wedding, and I’ll deliver.” Hearing my older brother’s name, my hand shot out and gripped his sleeve. The Christians didn’t know I was in Seacliff. They certainly didn’t know that Ethan Geller’s fiancée was me. After refusing an arranged marriage to a blue-blooded scion, I’d run away from home in a fit of anger and never contacted them again. A sour knot formed in my stomach. I couldn’t imagine the look on my brother’s face when he saw me like this—broken and blind. Suddenly, a weight settled on my arm, followed by a bright, anxious voice. “Selene! I was so worried about you! Don’t you worry, from now on, I’ll be your eyes. I’ll take care of you forever…” Ethan cut her off, a hint of unease in his voice. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lily. Selene’s blindness is only temporary.” Lily caught on immediately, resting her head on my shoulder. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Maybe by tomorrow, Selene’s eyes will be all better! Then she can walk down the aisle in her beautiful dress and marry the wonderful Mr. Geller. Oh, Selene, I’m so happy for you.” That innocent, harmless act. It had fooled me for so long. An assistant brought in the wedding gown, and soon it was just me and Lily in the room. “Selene, I heard you designed this dress yourself. It’s stunning. But… the size is a little too big on me, you know?” RRRRIP! The sharp sound of fabric tearing was deafening in the silent room. I knew she had just destroyed my wedding dress. “A blind girl like you has no use for such a beautiful gown anyway. This hospital gown suits you much better.” SPLASH! A searing pain shot through my eyes, like they were being branded with hot irons. The agony stole my voice. My hands trembled as I tried to wipe away the liquid. Lily grabbed my wrists, her grip like steel. Her voice was a venom-laced whisper in my ear. “Your blindness had nothing to do with the car crash, Selene. I just casually mentioned I wanted your eyes, and I never thought Ethan would actually have them cut out for me. The funny thing is, I don’t even need them. They’re filthy. I wouldn’t even feed them to a dog.” “So, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll disappear. Otherwise… who knows what another casual remark from me might make him do to you?” The acidic liquid burned my eyes, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony shredding my heart. The sound of leather shoes approached. Lily roughly wiped the fluid from my eyes, then yanked my hand up into the air. SLAP! A fiery sting exploded across my palm. Before I could process what happened, a powerful shove sent me stumbling backward. My head slammed into the wall behind me, and a high-pitched ringing filled my ears. “Selene! You’ve lost your sight, not your mind! How could you hit Lily? She’s still recovering!” I couldn’t see the expression on Ethan’s face, but his voice was a torrent of fury. I knew he had lost control. In all the years we’d been together, he had never been this angry. His voice, dripping with menace, echoed above me. “Apologize to her. Now. Or the wedding is off.” He knew how much this wedding meant to me, that my greatest wish for years was to walk down the aisle and marry him. Just as he expected, I lowered my head as if I were the one at fault. The residue in my eyes stung with every blink. My voice trembled with pain. “I’m sorry, Lily.” A cold, dismissive voice came from the doorway. “I’ll have someone pick you up at eight tomorrow morning.” What Ethan didn’t know was that for me, tomorrow’s wedding wasn’t a celebration. It was an escape. It was the day I would finally leave him for good. The next morning, an assistant picked me up. Just as Lily had said, I arrived at the venue wearing nothing but my hospital gown. The hem of her own dress brushed against my bare ankles as she placed the veil over my head. She let out a small, mocking laugh. “Happy wedding day, Selene. You really think putting on a veil makes you a bride? It’s just to hide your useless eyes so you don’t embarrass everyone.” When she didn’t see the despair she expected on my face, her good mood soured. But before she could say more, Ethan’s displeased voice cut through the air. “Where is the gown I had prepared for you? Selene, are you trying to punish me? You’re going to marry me looking like this?” The assistant led me towards a dressing room. As I was about to remove the hospital gown, a man’s excited voice came from behind me. “Well, well. She’s a blind one, but she’s a real looker. Don’t you scream, now, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to take good care of you.” His hands were on me, violently tearing at my clothes. I fought back with all my strength, but he was too strong. I opened my mouth and bit down hard on his arm. “You little bitch!” Enraged, he threw me to the floor. His hot, ragged breath washed over my neck. Just as he ripped my gown open, a sharp, surprised female voice cried out from the doorway. “Selene! How could you, on your wedding day with Mr. Geller? How could you do this to him…?” The man above me froze, then spoke in a casual, panting voice. “She’s the one who came onto me. I’m not interested in some blind piece of trash.” As soon as he finished, a chorus of accusations erupted around me. The vicious words were like venomous snakes, striking from all directions. “I can’t believe his fiancée is blind!” “No wonder she’s blind. To throw away a man like Mr. Geller to cheat with someone else… tsk, tsk.” “What a shameless tramp!” I scrambled to cover my exposed body, pulling my torn clothes around me. I buried my head in my knees, my entire body shaking violently. Suddenly, the room fell silent, the only sound a set of heavy, deliberate footsteps. “Selene. You dared to betray me?” A hand clamped around my neck, squeezing hard. Ethan’s eyes, I imagined, were bloodshot, the veins on his hands bulging. I used every last bit of my strength to force out three words. “I… did… not…” The feeling of suffocation closed in. Just as I thought I would pass out, he released my throat, only to grab my chin in a bruising grip. “Selene, you of all people should know how much I hate betrayal. You must have lost your mind to throw yourself at a man like that. Fine. In that case, you won’t be needing to attend this wedding.” “Security! Take her to the psychiatric hospital!” As hands grabbed me, forcing me to my feet, my heart plummeted. If they sent me to a mental hospital now, I would never make it back to my family. The thought gave me a surge of adrenaline. I twisted violently, breaking free from their grasp, and ran. “Get her!” Ethan’s furious roar echoed behind me, along with the sound of countless running feet. My heart hammered against my ribs. Darkness. I couldn’t see a thing, but I couldn’t stop. I just ran, blindly, desperately, praying for a chance at survival. Suddenly, I slammed into a warm chest. A familiar, urgent voice called out from above. “Selene!” It was my brother. Julian. All the strength drained from my body, and I collapsed into his arms. Seeing my pale, bloodless face, Julian reached up to cup my cheek, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly. “Selene, what have you done to yourself? Where have you been all these years…? I finally… I finally found you.” A single tear fell onto my face. I reached up, wanting to wipe it away for him, but I had no idea where his face was. Julian noticed instantly. “Selene, what’s wrong with your eyes?” Before I could answer, Ethan’s voice, tight with restrained fury, cut through the air. “Selene. Come here.” I flinched. Feeling my terror, Julian gently patted my back, his voice a soothing murmur. “It’s okay, Selene. I’m here. No one is ever going to hurt you again.” I nodded, too choked up to speak, and let my body relax into his embrace. Seeing me close my eyes, resting peacefully against Julian’s shoulder, Ethan’s face darkened into a thunderous mask. He glared at Julian. “Let go of my fiancée.” A flicker of surprise crossed Julian’s eyes before understanding dawned, and a chilling aura began to radiate from him. Just as the tension was about to snap, Lily appeared between them. Seeing Julian’s distinguished air, she offered a sweet, innocent smile. “Sir, her name is Selene Christian. She’s Mr. Geller’s fiancée. She recently went blind and has been… under a lot of stress. She’s not well. It would be best if you let us take her for treatment, before she accidentally hurts you.” Julian’s eyes were stormy. “Get out of my sight.” Humiliation twisted Lily’s pretty face, and her eyes welled with tears. Ethan pulled her into his arms, then waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t care who you are. You’re not walking out of here today.” A group of black-suited bodyguards swarmed forward. A dark, knowing smile played on Julian’s lips. “It’s been a long time since someone was this eager to die.” He let out a soft, sharp whistle. Instantly, three imposing men with the subtle crest of our family tattooed on their necks stormed in. Within moments, the black-suited guards were scattered on the floor. A guest in the crowd gasped. “That’s the Christian family’s elite security detail!” “I heard the head of the family, Julian Christian, was officiating today! I can’t believe it’s really him!” The room erupted. Seeing the murderous look on Julian’s face, many of the more cautious guests began to quietly exit the hotel, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. Lily’s face was a mask of shock. The man protecting me was the head of one of the capital’s most powerful families. Her nails dug into her palms, her eyes overflowing with a venomous envy. “Mr. Christian, there must be some misunderstanding! She’s not worth it! She’s just a blind woman who was in another man’s arms moments ago! You don’t have to…” SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! The sharp cracks of open palms hitting flesh echoed through the room, punctuated by Lily’s piercing screams. “Ahhh!” Julian’s voice was dangerously calm. “Anyone who has ever harmed Selene meets the same end.”

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The first thing my best friend did was threaten me with our old chat logs. “Hey girlie,” she texted. “I’ve gone through three phones, but I never deleted our conversations. I was waiting for a day like today.” “Don’t you forget where you came from. You promised that if you ever made it big, you’d take care of me for life.” “So, let’s start with a new apartment. Your secrets are my insurance policy, after all.” I smiled and agreed. But even after I bought her the apartment, she leaked the chat logs anyway. She said she needed to expose my “dirt” to launch her own channel. I was cyberbullied into a deep depression and fell from a rooftop. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I decided to become a content creator. 1 “Claire, my bestie! Are you really going to do it? Start your own channel?” When I heard Lily’s familiar voice, I knew. I had been reborn. In my past life, from the moment I started creating content, Lily became exactly like all those “best friends” you see in the comments online. Just waiting for me to go viral so she could live off my success. “Our chat history is the most valuable thing we have now,” she’d said. “I won’t delete a single word. When you’re famous, this is all prime dirt.” “If you dare forget about me,” she’d joked, “your downfall will be swift. Career announced in the morning, receipts leaked by noon, and you’re canceled by evening.” At the time, I thought she was just kidding. She was my only real friend, after all. If I made it, of course she’d share in the rewards. And I did make it. I went viral, just as I’d dreamed. I treated her like family, showering her with cars, apartments, and cash. But at the absolute peak of my career, she went live and broadcast our private conversations to the world. “Claire,” she’d said, “you’ve hit the social media jackpot. Surely you won’t mind letting me get a piece of it?” “Don’t worry, I’m just using you to get my channel off the ground. Once my follower count is stable, I’ll help you clean up your image.” The moment those chats were leaked, my reputation was destroyed. The online hate was relentless. I developed severe depression and ended my life on that rooftop. But now, I’m back. This time, I looked at Lily’s excited face and smiled. “Yeah, I am. But my phone’s dead. Can I borrow yours for a sec?” She eagerly handed it over. “Of course! Use it for whatever you want.” “What’s mine is yours!” she chirped. “Just don’t forget me when you’re famous!” I took her phone, found my own contact, and opened our chat. Then, I deleted the entire history. Lily sprang up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “Claire! What are you doing?!” I handed the phone back to her, my face a mask of innocence. “Oh my god, Lily, I’m so sorry. My hand slipped.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t anything important anyway. Deleted is deleted.” Lily fumbled with the phone, her face paling. “What do you mean, not important? That was years of my hard work!” “If you get famous, those were my leverage.” I fought back a cold laugh and wrapped my arm around her shoulder affectionately. “Lily, what’s all this talk about leverage? You’re my one and only bestie. You think I could ever forget you?” She seemed to calm down, her expression softening. She took my arm in return. “I knew you were the best. Then it’s settled. I’m your number one.” My number one? Heh. A backstabbing snake like you? You like launching your career by tearing others down? This time, just watch how I ruin you. 2 Back home, I immediately started filming my first video. I already had the experience of going viral once; recreating my own path to fame wouldn’t be hard. After posting my first transition video, the likes hit over 10,000 that same night. Lily saw it and messaged me instantly. “Claire, your video has 10k likes! I have a feeling you’re about to blow up!” “So, listen, I saw this bag today… maybe you could just buy it for me?” “I mean, with numbers like these, it’s like a small advance on your future earnings, right?” Before I could even reply, she sent a payment link. I clicked it. The bag was nearly five thousand dollars. Just like last time, the moment she saw a flicker of success, she was already demanding her cut. I didn’t reply. I didn’t pay. Late that night, another message came through. “Claire, long night. Wanna see some… spicy videos?” My guard went up immediately. She realized the old chat logs were gone and was now trying to manufacture new dirt. This time, I was smarter. I replied with two simple words. “Not interested.” But Lily persisted, sending a flurry of links. “I’ve vetted all of these. Total eye candy!” “All top-tier guys. You’re missing out if you don’t look~” Honestly, there’s nothing wrong with a girl enjoying a little eye candy. But for a public figure, it’s a liability. In my past life, all of our private, girl-talk moments became tools she used to climb on top of my ruin. My face was grim as I typed back. “Lily, I don’t watch that stuff. Please don’t send it to me again.” She sent back a string of question marks. “Claire, who are you kidding? You used to beg me for this stuff.” “What, one viral video and suddenly you’re a saint? Give me a break.” Her wording was clever. I thought for a moment before replying. “Lily, how could you think that of me?” “When have we ever gone out to eat and I didn’t pay? When you were sick in the middle of the night, didn’t I drive across town to take you to the hospital?” “I’ve never done you wrong. This aggressive attitude of yours is honestly breaking my heart.” Checkmate. Furious, she called me. “Claire, are you insane?” I suppressed my anger and quietly started a voice recording on my other phone. “What’s wrong, Lily? Why are you so angry?” Her shrill voice pierced my ear. “Are you on something? What’s with this saintly act? Have you read the crap you just sent me? Are you possessed?” “And you didn’t buy me the bag I sent you. Didn’t you promise you’d take care of me when you got famous?” “Don’t you forget where you came from.” I faked a sob. “Lily, I’ve had one video do well. I don’t even have a brand deal yet. Where would I get the money?” “You have savings, don’t you? You can afford a five-thousand-dollar bag.” I laid it on thick, playing the victim. “But if I buy you the bag, I won’t have enough money for food.” “You’re so cruel. How could you do this to me?” Lily was losing her patience. “You’ll be earning way more soon! A single brand deal is worth tens of thousands.” I made sure to reinforce my own persona. “Well, even then, I’d have to choose carefully. I can’t just take shady sponsorships.” She blurted out, “Pfft! You and your high horse. If I got famous, I’d take any ad that paid. Money is money!” Hearing that, I was incredibly grateful I had hit record. Seeing that her guilt trip wasn’t working, Lily backed off. “Fine. You’re just starting out, it’s not easy. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” “But the second you land a sponsorship, I’m coming to collect.” 3 After that first taste of viral success, Lily pestered me daily to post new content. This time, I was planning to recreate the video that had garnered tens of millions of likes in my past life, so the prep work took longer. She was impatient. “Ugh, you could post anything and it would go viral. Who takes half a month to make one video?” “At this rate, I’ll be waiting forever for you to support me!” I ignored her and stuck to my own schedule. Three days later, the video was finally edited and ready. The moment I hit “post,” a wave of relief washed over me. After two weeks of exhausting work, I could finally get a good night’s sleep. The next morning, I was woken up by a barrage of calls from Lily. “Claire! Why are you still sleeping? You’ve blown up! Do you know?” “Your video got 5 million likes overnight! You have over a million followers now!” Her voice was electric with excitement. “You’re a real influencer now! You can’t have any more excuses to say no to me!” “Okay, here’s the plan. First, you’re buying me that bag. Then this afternoon, I’m going to go look at cars. What do you think?” I cut off her greedy monologue by hanging up. The next second, I moved her contact to my block list. Phew. The relief was incredible. After I blocked her, she started trying to contact me through our mutual friends. I told them to stay out of it, that it was between me and Lily. One of them messaged me, “Lily says if you don’t respond, she’s going to expose you. She’s saying you forgot your friends the second you got famous.” “She claims she has a lot of dirt on you and that you should watch yourself.” I’d deleted everything. What dirt could she possibly have? She was bluffing. To my surprise, that evening, I stumbled upon Lily’s livestream. The title was: [Spill the Tea! My Influencer Bestie Got Famous and Ditched Me!] For whatever reason, she wasn’t showing her face, hiding behind a virtual avatar mask. “I’m just here to give a warning today,” she said to the camera. “To a certain someone who forgot where she came from. Don’t force me to leak the receipts!” Viewers poured into the stream, the audience growing by the second. The chat was on fire. [Who is it? Can you just drop the name?] [I bet it’s that new girl who just blew up. I saw one of her videos, she looked shady!] [I’m staying neutral. I get burned every time I pick a side in these things.] [Spit it out! If you don’t name names, I’m calling it fake.] Lily waved a dismissive hand. “We were friends for a long time. I don’t want to be too cruel.” “I just hope she sees this stream and has a change of heart. And maybe unblocks me.” The keyboard warriors went wild. [What? Blocked you after getting famous? If my bestie did that, I’d slap her into next week!] [She was never your real friend. You were the first person she cut off when she made it.] [Your ‘bestie’ is probably so high on her main character energy she doesn’t know which way is up.] [If my friend did that to me, I wouldn’t just leak dirt. I’d ruin her so badly she could never make a comeback.] I used to read comments like these and laugh. Now I knew the truth: the first person to resent your success is often the one closest to you. The moment you stop catering to their every whim, they accuse you of changing, of forgetting them. They take the trust you gave them and turn it into a weapon, hoping to bleed you dry for the rest of your life. Lily continued her performance, her voice dripping with false sincerity. “I was with her through everything, through her toughest times. Now that she’s finally made it, I just… I can’t bring myself to hurt her.” The chat erupted in sympathy. [Girls are always too kind. Your friend treats you like this and you’re still protecting her!] [OMG, be my bestie! If I got famous, I’d spoil you rotten.] [Don’t be so soft! You have to expose toxic people like her!] Lily sighed dramatically. “I know, I’m just too soft-hearted.” “If I wasn’t, I’d be dropping all her secrets right now. She has a closet full of skeletons!” I was getting angrier by the second. I switched to my burner account and typed in the chat. [How do we know any of this is real?] [You’re probably just using this drama to launch your own channel!] A few other viewers still had their wits about them. [Yeah, where’s the proof? It’s just you talking to a camera. You could be making it all up.] [Show the receipts or we’re out. I’ve got other drama to catch up on.] [I got played by someone like this last time. I’m not saying a word until I see proof.] But many were completely on Lily’s side. [She already said she doesn’t want to ruin her! What more do you vultures want?] [You’re defending her friend so much, you’re probably the friend herself, aren’t you?] [Big enough to block someone, but too scared to show up on your main account?] [My heart breaks for you, girl. Getting blocked by your ungrateful bestie and still trying to protect her, only to have these people demand proof.] That was the last straw. I pulled Lily out of my block list and sent her a message. What the hell do you think you’re doing? On the livestream, Lily picked up her phone and gasped theatrically. “Oh my god, you guys! My bestie just unblocked me!” “Do you think she’s watching the stream?” The chat flew by. [Was that commenter from before actually her?] [What did she say? Did she apologize?] [Don’t forgive her just like that! She’s not sorry, she’s just scared of her career being ruined!] [Exactly! We support you! Don’t back down!] Lily gave a bitter smile. “You want to know what she said to me?” She covered my profile picture with her thumb and held the phone up for everyone to see. “My ‘bestie’ is demanding to know what the hell I think I’m doing.” As she spoke, tears started to stream down her face. “I thought our friendship of over ten years was unbreakable. That we were more like sisters. But I guess I was the only one who felt that way.” “To her, I was just someone she could throw away the second she got famous.” The chat filled with messages of comfort. [Baby, don’t cry. She’s not worth it.] [You’re so much prettier than her anyway. You should make your own content, you’d be way more successful. I’m your first fan!] [Even after all this, you still didn’t drop her name. You’re such a good person. My heart hurts for you.] [+1. We can’t let ungrateful people succeed. We’ll make you the next big thing!] Lily sniffled, her voice thick with fake emotion. “I’m going to end the stream here for tonight. I need to go talk to her.” “I’ll see you all next time, guys.” She even teased her next stream, a clear ploy to gain followers. Her desperation to be famous was practically leaking through the screen.

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The day I got my wife’s ultrasound report, I heard our unborn child’s voice in my head. Dad, as soon as I’m born, Mom’s going to divorce you! Her first love can’t have kids, see? So she’s just using you to have a baby. Then she can take me and live happily ever after with him! I believed it without a second thought. I filed for divorce immediately. But after the divorce, my health began to fail. I got weaker by the day, until I was diagnosed with cancer. During a chemo session, I ran into my ex-wife. And I heard the voice of the child in her womb again. Haha! Just kidding! Mom never cheated on you! I made it all up! Why would a child lie? I died without ever understanding. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we got the ultrasound report. 1 “Mr. Clark, congratulations! You’re going to be a father! The report shows the baby is just over two months along.” The doctor’s voice was cheerful. “Now, you’ll need to take extra special care of your wife. Pregnant women can be emotionally sensitive, you know.” Her voice cut through the fog in my mind. I snapped my head up and stared at the report in her hand. It was real. I was back. And in the next second, I heard it. The voice of the child in my wife’s womb. Dad, Mom’s going to divorce you the second I’m born! The voice was identical to the one from my past life. An icy dread washed over me. The chilling memory of my lonely death in that hospital bed came rushing back, sharp and terrifying. Before I could process it, the voice came again. Mom’s first love is sterile! That’s the only reason she married you! You were just a means to an end! A walking sperm donor! Once I’m born, she’ll divorce you, take me, and go live her fairy-tale life with him! Last time, I heard those words and my world collapsed. I didn’t question them for a second. I demanded a divorce. No matter how much my wife, Stella, pleaded and tried to explain, I held fast to the “truth” our child had given me. It wasn’t until I was on my deathbed that I learned it was all a lie. But why? Why would a child do such a thing? This time, I was going to find out. The doctor noticed my pale face. “Mr. Clark, are you alright? Is the news a bit of a shock?” I looked at Stella’s still-flat stomach, a dark thought forming in my mind. “Doctor… this child. Is it… normal?” She blinked, confused. “Are you asking about the baby’s health, Mr. Clark?” I thought about my last life. This child was the reason I lost Stella. What if I chose not to have it? What if I just ignored the voice? Would we have made it? At the very least, when the cancer came, would the woman I loved have been by my side? Would the ending be different if I chose to end it now? I nodded slowly. “This pregnancy was an accident. My wife and I… we weren’t prepared. I’m worried there might be something wrong.” My voice dropped. “What if… we were to terminate…” “Owen, my stomach hurts…” Before I could finish, Stella’s face went white. She clutched her abdomen, sweat beading on her forehead. And the voice returned, sharp and angry. Dad, what are you trying to say to the doctor? You don’t want me, do you? Because that would make me very, very unhappy. I know you love Mom. Even if she betrayed you, the most you’d do is divorce her. You could never bring yourself to let her die, could you? Stella was now in too much pain to speak. I understood. The thing in her womb was listening. To everything. The slightest hint that I didn’t want it, and it would take Stella down with it. But it was right about one thing. I loved Stella more than life itself. In my past life, when I thought she’d betrayed me, the pain had driven me mad. I hadn’t listened to a word she said, just cut her out of my life. In the end, I died on an operating table, never having seen her face one last time. The doctor saw Stella’s agony and her professional calm kicked in. “Ma’am, are you alright?” she asked urgently. “If your health isn’t stable enough for a pregnancy, I have to advise you to prioritize your own well-being. You can always try for another child later.” Stella wiped the sweat from her brow, her teeth gritted. “I’m fine. I can do this.” “Stella, we don’t have to do this. Your health is what matters…” I started, but her face grew even paler, a silent scream in her eyes. The words died in my throat. I turned to the doctor. “Could you prescribe some glucose and vitamins, please? We’re keeping this baby. We’re definitely keeping it.” As soon as the words left my mouth, the voice returned, placated. That’s more like it, Dad. You’d better take good care of Mom. Or I’ll make sure she pays for it. Oh, and by the way, if you don’t listen to me… it won’t just be her life on the line. It’ll be yours, too. The voice trailed off, but the threat hung in the air. The cancer. The sudden, aggressive cancer from my last life… was it because of this thing? But that didn’t make sense. I had already divorced Stella. Why would it come after me then? A cold sweat soaked through my shirt. I didn’t dare say another word. I knew, with absolute certainty, that it was listening. Later that day, back home, Stella took a phone call in the other room. When she came out, she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Honey, I have a class reunion tonight. I’ll be home a little late.” Last time, that phone call was the final nail in our coffin. I had instantly believed the voice in my head, convinced she was meeting her lover. I’d filed for divorce that very night. Not this time. I would not make the same mistake. I forced a smile and nodded. “Okay. Have fun. Take care of yourself… and the baby.” 2 It was four in the morning when I heard Stella creep back into the house. After a quiet shower, she leaned over and kissed my forehead before sliding into bed and wrapping her arms around me. The voice was waiting. Dad, Mom just got back from her little tryst. How can you even sleep? Just divorce her already! Don’t worry, when I grow up, I’ll repay you for everything. The words were identical to my past life. I forced my breathing to stay even, feigning sleep. I replayed the last life in my mind. After I demanded the divorce, Stella had been utterly bewildered. She begged me to reconsider. But I was resolute, and she eventually relented. I gave her everything in the divorce—the house, the savings. I walked away with nothing. She was carrying my child, after all. And she was the woman I had loved for so many years. I never saw her again. After I died, they told me she had a complete mental breakdown. Her reactions last time… they didn’t add up. Could it be true? Had she really never cheated on me? I decided I would talk to her in the morning, tell her everything. But when I woke up, she was already gone. A note was on the kitchen table. Honey, breakfast is on the table and I made you some fresh soy milk. I had to head to work early. See you tonight! A flicker of warmth spread through my chest, but it was immediately extinguished by the voice. Dad, did you see the sweet little note Mom left you? Here’s a newsflash: she’s on a date with him right now! Why won’t you just divorce her already?! Is a woman like that really worth it?! She was at work. Miles away. But the voice was right here, screaming in my head. I didn’t have time to dwell on it, but the more insistent it became, the more certain I was that something was terribly wrong. What was its motive for pushing me toward divorce so hard? Whatever it was, this time, I was going to change my fate. On my way to the office, a mysterious old man in strange, flowing robes grabbed my arm, his face etched with panic. “That which does not belong to you, you must not touch!” I flinched, startled, having no idea what he meant. I figured it was some new kind of street scam and tried to pull away. But his grip was like iron. “A dead man walking should not struggle!” he shouted, his eyes wild. A wave of goosebumps washed over me. I stumbled back. He looked crazy, but the intensity in his eyes was dead serious. I froze, his words echoing in my head. This life doesn’t belong to me? Did he know I was reborn? Did he mean that even with a second chance, I was doomed to die? An overwhelming fear seized me. I opened my mouth to ask him more, but he had already turned and vanished around the corner. Before I could even process the encounter, the voice was back. Dad, who were you talking to?

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The day my stepson was bullied into permanent disability, I called my star lawyer husband. He vowed revenge. But at his firm, I found the case assigned to his intern Molly. He was coaching her for the bar exam while she “accidentally” deleted the key security footage. He sighed, “You can’t be so careless,” then told me: “Not enough evidence. We can’t win.” I argued, but he cut me off: “I’m the lawyer! And you spoiled him—that’s why he was targeted!” He then took Molly out for “fresh air.” Soon, she posted online: “So lucky to have someone who always has my back.” I laughed bitterly. Did he think the victim wasn’t my biological son? My phone vibrated, an unfamiliar number. I answered. “Are you Nathan Holden’s guardian?” “Yes, I am.” “To save the boy’s life, we had to perform an amputation.” The doctor’s voice was a cold, clinical blade over the phone. “Additionally, due to severe nerve damage, he will likely have permanent incontinence.” I hung up, my fingertips ice cold. My assistant, Cathy, watched me with worried eyes. “Ms. Wolf, should I… try to find another lawyer for you?” she asked tentatively, afraid to touch a raw nerve. “There’s a specialist in school bullying cases, I hear he’s one of the best in the city…” “Suing the bullies can wait.” My voice was calm, without a ripple of emotion. “First, contact the legal department. I need them to draft a divorce agreement.” Cathy’s eyes widened for a second, then she gave a firm, determined nod. We drove towards the school. My phone screen lit up. It was Molly. A video popped up. In it, my husband, Grant, was with her in a store overflowing with stuffed animals—a saccharine pink place designed for little girls. He gently placed a fluffy pair of bunny ears on her head. She, in turn, stood on her toes to fit a comical brown bear headband onto his. They flirted without a care in the world, laughing like two fools in the throes of first love. When I didn’t reply, Molly sent another message. “Has Mrs. Holden ever seen this side of the professor?” It was followed by a playful, tongue-out emoji. I felt nothing. It was laughable. I was genuinely curious. When Grant found out that the only son he had with his deceased, sainted first wife had been amputated and turned into a disabled boy who couldn’t even control his own body… Would he still be able to smile then? The moment I stepped into the principal’s office, the greasy-faced man rushed to hand me a settlement agreement. “Mrs. Holden, about this matter… the other family is, well, quite influential. Their father made time in his very busy schedule to come discuss it…” His words were laden with implication. “And, between us, your husband has already unofficially agreed to a settlement.” He paused, his voice turning paternal. “Boys will be boys, you know. A little roughhousing is inevitable. It’s best to keep the peace, let sleeping dogs lie.” I glanced at the document without even bothering to touch it. “In that case, could you please contact his father to come and sign it?” I lowered my gaze, injecting just the right amount of helplessness and sorrow into my voice. “As a stepmother, it’s not really my place…” The principal’s expression froze. I didn’t give him a chance to persuade me further, instead moving on to my next request. “Oh, and since this is being settled privately, it would be… awkward for my younger son, the first-grader, to continue attending here. Perhaps you could help expedite a transfer?” This was exactly what the principal wanted to hear. Within the hour, all the paperwork was done. Just as the final bell rang, I was standing outside the first-grade building. I watched my son, Leo, come flying towards me. “Mommy!” I opened my arms and caught him in a steady embrace. Leo snuggled into my arms, then looked up. “Where’s Daddy?” The smile on my face faded. He understood instantly, muttering under his breath, “Oh. He’s with his student again, isn’t he.” The casual acceptance in his voice was a needle to my heart. I stroked his hair, my resolve to leave Grant hardening into steel. In the car, I didn’t start the engine right away. I opened an app on my phone and, with practiced ease, scheduled the earliest available divorce appointment at City Hall for the day after tomorrow. [Divorce filing submitted. Please arrive with all relevant documents by 9:00 AM on the scheduled date.] I took a screenshot and sent it directly to Grant. [Are you free at nine, the day after tomorrow?] 2 When I got home with Leo, the message still just said [Read]. I stared at the two words for a long moment before dialing his number. It rang for a long time before he picked up. “You can handle the situation with Leo yourself. I’m busy.” I blinked, realizing he hadn’t even bothered to look at the picture. “It’s not about Leo. I want to talk to you about—” “Then I’m even busier!” he snapped. “Are you holding a grudge about today? Is that why you’re trying to drag me away on the day of Molly’s first court appearance?” His voice dripped with contempt. “Linnea, with a mother as paranoid and jealous as you, it’s no wonder the kid gets bullied! Honestly, he deserved it!” His words hung in the air. I started to laugh, a cold, sharp sound, and nodded. “You’re right. He absolutely deserved it.” Then I hung up. My son, who was sipping from a cup, saw the look on my face and watched me with wide, worried eyes. I knelt down and gently wiped a drop of water from his chin. “Sweetheart, Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce.” “We’re going to move out, and you’re going to a new school.” He stared at me for a second, and then his face lit up. “Really? That’s great!” He cheered, then leaned in close like a little spy and whispered, “Mommy, I have a secret. Nathan used to bully me, too.” “He would rip up my homework, and one time he secretly pushed me down the stairs!” I went rigid, my heart seizing in my chest. I had always thought Nathan’s hostility was directed at me, his stepmother. I never imagined he would torment a first-grader behind my back. A tidal wave of guilt and rage washed over me. What had I been doing all these years? Seeing the undisguised joy in my son’s eyes, I clenched my fists and immediately booked the next available flight. The divorce could wait. Grant could be worn down. But I would not let Leo spend one more day in this house. With that thought, I pulled open the closet and began stuffing my son’s clothes into a suitcase. As I packed, memories of my life with Grant flooded back. We’d met on a blind date. His first wife had recently passed away, and he was drowning in grief, yet still managed to run his law firm and care for his young son. Everyone said he was a devoted, responsible man. I was fooled by the facade, believing a man so loyal to his deceased wife must be a good person. I believed the kindness he showed me was real. After we married, I treated his son, Nathan, as my own. When he had a raging fever in the middle of the night, I was the one who rushed him to three different hospitals while Grant offered a lukewarm “thanks for your trouble” over the phone. When he wanted a rare, out-of-production LEGO Star Wars set that Grant dismissed as childish nonsense, I was the one who called in every favor to import it for him. I thought kindness would beget kindness. Instead, I had raised two vipers. And nearly sacrificed my own son’s future in the process. What a joke. Leo’s suitcase was packed. As I turned to my own closet, I heard a click at the front door. It was being opened from the outside. Grant’s tall frame filled the doorway, blocking the light. His eyes swept over the packed suitcase in the living room and my perfectly healthy son standing beside me. His brow furrowed. “Linnea, what do you think you’re doing?” 3 “I’m taking Leo away for a few days. For a change of scenery.” I met his gaze, offering a plausible excuse. “You’re busy with Molly’s case, right? Don’t worry about us.” My words were like a match to a fuse. Grant’s face instantly darkened. He stormed over and slammed a file onto the table in front of me, the papers scattering. “Linnea, you’ve really gone all out with this little drama, haven’t you? All to get my attention. How pathetic!” The edge of a paper cut my cheek, a small, stinging pain. I looked down and saw it was a signed settlement agreement. He pointed a finger at me, his voice shaking with rage. “And I actually fell for it! I thought something had really happened to Leo at school. I canceled a meeting to rush back here!” “And for what? For you to play games with me!” His gaze shifted from my face to my healthy son hiding behind me, then to the suitcase on the floor. His expression was a mask of derision. “What’s next? You’re going to run away from home?” “Linnea, your tactics are getting more and more pathetic.” Just then, a soft, hesitant voice came from the doorway. “Professor, please don’t be angry with Mrs. Holden.” Molly stood there, holding a beautiful fruit basket, peering in like a frightened fawn. “I’m sure she was just worried about you… It was all just a misunderstanding. The important thing is that Leo is okay.” Her words were gasoline on the fire. The look Grant gave me was filled with even more contempt. “You hear that? Even Molly, a student, has more sense than you!” He pulled her to his side, his arm protectively around her. “And you? What are you good for, besides throwing tantrums?” He looked down at me, his voice dripping with disgust. “And if you leave now, what about Nathan? Who’s going to take care of him?” The irony of him shielding Molly while lecturing me about my responsibility to his other son was so absurd I almost laughed. Molly, sensing her advantage, gently tugged on his arm. “Professor, it’s getting late. I still need to prep for tomorrow’s hearing. Could you help me go over the materials one more time?” Grant’s expression immediately softened. “Of course,” he said, his voice now full of affection. As they headed for the stairs, he threw one last, cold command over his shoulder. “And don’t forget to pick Nathan up from his tutoring class at nine.” Just before they disappeared, Molly, still clinging to Grant’s arm, looked back at me. She smiled, and her innocent eyes were filled with the triumphant gloating of a victor. I watched them go, my heart a sea of calm. Pick up Nathan? I thought of the boy lying unconscious in the ICU and raised an eyebrow. If Grant hadn’t reminded me, I might have actually forgotten about the little prince in the ICU waiting for someone to wipe his ass for him. I wasn’t doing that dirty work anymore. I took out my phone and sent a text to Grant’s parents. [Mom, Dad, there’s been an accident with your grandson. Could you please come to City Hospital tomorrow?] With that done, I checked the time, then called a car. Leo and I were going to the airport. That night, after watching his small figure disappear through security with a flight attendant, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Once Leo landed safely with my parents, I would have nothing left to hold me back. I didn’t sleep. The moment I got into a cab back to the city, the hospital called. The nurse sounded frantic. “Is this Nathan Holden’s guardian? The boy is awake and extremely agitated. You need to get here as soon as possible.” When I arrived, the private ward was in chaos. The moment Nathan saw me, his eyes turned bloodshot. He looked like a cornered animal. “You! It was you, you evil bitch! You’re the reason I lost my leg!” He screamed hysterically, grabbing whatever he could from the bedside table and hurling it at me. “I’m gonna have my dad kill you! I’m gonna have him get you and everyone who bullied me arrested and executed!” The head nurse, trying to restrain him, couldn’t help but retort, “What are you talking about, son? Your father already signed a settlement. He’s not pressing charges against anyone.” Another, younger nurse muttered under her breath, “Some people are just crazy for money. Your own son is disabled, and you settle for cash…” “Impossible! You’re lying!” Nathan thrashed even more violently, breaking free from the nurses’ grip. He snatched an empty vase and threw it at me with all his might. I couldn’t dodge in time. It struck me on the temple. A sharp, blinding pain, followed by the warm trickle of blood down my face. The nurses rushed to pin him down and administer a sedative. Finally, the world was quiet. The head nurse helped me to a bench in the hallway and began cleaning my wound. “Mrs. Holden, please don’t take it too hard. It’s normal for patients to be emotionally unstable after an amputation.” I didn’t answer, just gritted my teeth against the sting of the antiseptic. Two figures rushed out of the elevator. Grant’s parents. My mother-in-law saw the gash on my forehead and, instead of concern, her face hardened with blame. “What is wrong with you? You can’t even watch a child? Getting yourself injured in a hospital, you’re utterly useless!” She looked me up and down with undisguised contempt. “I told you to quit your job and be a stay-at-home mother, but you wouldn’t listen! Now look at you!” My father-in-law chimed in. “Exactly. Can’t handle one simple thing. It’s a good thing it was Leo who got into a little trouble this time. If it had been our Nathan, you’d be in for it!” They went on, their words dripping with disdain for me and my son. “I heard about that little fight Leo got into at school… honestly, boys will be boys, what’s the big deal? And you had to bother my son about it! Sometimes you just have to let things go. Now you’ve made it so awkward, how is Leo supposed to face his classmates?” The head nurse, who had heard enough, finally interrupted. “Excuse me, but this wasn’t just a scrape. The boy had an amputation. He won’t just have trouble going to school… he may never live independently again.” The expressions on their faces froze. A second later, my mother-in-law shrieked like a scalded cat. “Amputation? He’s a cripple?!” She shoved me away, her face contorted in disgust. “We don’t raise cripples in our family! Linnea, you’re a jinx! A curse on this house!” I let her push me, pressing the gauze to the bleeding wound on my head. I smiled faintly. “You’re right, Mom. The Holden family certainly doesn’t support freeloaders. That’s why I’m divorcing your son and called you both here, so you can take proper care of your precious grandson.” “Why should we have to take care of your crippled son?!” she shot back without thinking. I looked at her face, twisted with fury, and my smile widened. “Who told you it was my son who was hurt?”

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