I starved myself on nearly expired bread for a whole month to save money and buy medicine for my “sick” mom. Before I collapsed, I sent her a message: “Mom, I got the medicine. I’m so tired. Going to sleep for a bit.” That sleep became permanent. Only after death did I discover that my entire life had been an all-surveillance “Truman Show.” My billionaire parents sat in their massive control room watching me suffer from stomach cramps. Mom held her wine glass, frowning as she critiqued: “Poor physical constitution. Deduct 10 points.” Dad recorded coldly: “Willpower is acceptable, but doesn’t know how to utilize resources. Deduct 20 points.” They were selecting the sole heir to the family fortune. And I, for “dying too easily,” was judged: Failed. My corpse still lay on the cold floor of my rental apartment, curled in a fetal position. My phone screen glowed with that unread text message. “Mom, I got the medicine. I’m so tired. Going to sleep for a bit.” My soul floated in midair as I stared at that emaciated body. My stomach still twitched faintly—the final memory before starving to death. One month. To scrape together money for that astronomically expensive imported medicine for my mom’s “stomach cancer diagnosis,” I’d cut my only meat dish. I ate only two nearly expired pieces of bread each day. Even my water came from the office cooler. I thought my sacrifice would move heaven itself and bring my mother’s recovery. Instead, I moved myself to death. When I opened my eyes again, I’d been reborn. I floated into an extremely luxurious semicircular hall. Hundreds of high-definition screens covered the walls. The largest one in the center displayed my corpse. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. Two people sat on the leather sofa. The man wore an expensive suit, the woman dripped with jewels. They were my “poverty-stricken,” “terminally ill” parents. At that moment, Mom swirled a glass of blood-red wine in her hand. She looked at my pale face on the screen, her brow deeply furrowed. No tears, no sorrow. Only disgust. “Poor physical constitution. Died after just one month of hunger. [Heir Selection Test – Physical Constitution Dimension] deduct 10 points.” She took a sip of wine, her tone like she was critiquing defective merchandise. Dad held a diamond-encrusted pen, making a mark on a thick evaluation form. “Willpower is acceptable, but doesn’t know how to utilize resources.” “Clearly attractive enough, yet didn’t know to leverage her looks for money. Foolish.” “[Heir Selection Test – Resource Utilization Dimension] deduct 20 points.” I floated above their heads, trembling all over. These were the parents I’d risked my life to save? These were the parents I’d starved for, going without even sanitary pads to support? “Enough, stop watching. Bad luck.” Mom set down her wine glass and pressed the remote. The screen went dark. My corpse disappeared into blackness. “Notify the logistics department to collect the body. Clean it up properly. Don’t let the media find out.” Dad closed the folder and casually tossed it into the trash. “This one’s a write-off. Initiate Plan B.” “Bring Rachel back from abroad. Hopefully she’s smarter than this idiot.” I stared at the folder in the trash. The cover read: “Heir Selection Test: Subject 001—Morgan.” Below it, a red summary line: [Assessment Result: Failed. Total deductions 30 points, zero bonus points. Disposal method: Destroy.]

So I was just a test subject. The star of a reality show called “Heir Selection.” The “destitute home” was a set. The “terminal cancer” was a script. The “devoted relationship” was an act. My twenty years of life had been an absolute joke. A young woman in business attire walked in. It was Natalie, my “distant cousin.” She used to come to my place with such a superior air to “bring warmth,” tossing me a few old clothes. Now she stood respectfully before my parents. “Morgan’s funeral arrangements…” “Don’t mention her again!” Mom cut her off sharply. “A defective product—why bring her up?” “Just find any crematorium, burn her, scatter the ashes in the ocean. Save the space.” Natalie bowed her head. “Yes.” “Oh, that Julian performed well.” Dad suddenly spoke. “He did an excellent job inducing Morgan to save money for medicine. Give him a two hundred thousand dollar bonus.” My eyes flew wide open. Julian. My boyfriend. The man who always held me gently, saying “Morgan, your mother’s illness comes first. We can endure hardship.” The man who watched me eat bread while secretly eating fried chicken in the bathroom. He was an actor too. An “NPC” they’d hired specifically to drain my last drop of blood. “Julian asked if he could participate in Rachel’s test?” Natalie asked carefully. Mom gave a contemptuous laugh. “That kind of pretty boy who only knows how to deceive idiots? Only someone as brainless as Morgan would fall for him.” “Tell him to get lost.” “The White family heir doesn’t need such low-level emotional tests.” I stared at them intently. Hatred surged through my chest like molten lava. Why? Just because you’re rich, you can toy with my life at will? Just because I’m your daughter, I deserve to be your guinea pig for heir selection? I hate them. I hate them so much! If I could do it all again, I would never be that obedient daughter waiting to be slaughtered. I would return every bit of suffering from these twenty years to them—a thousand, ten thousand times over! A violent tearing sensation came from deep within my soul. Everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I heard familiar coughing. “Cough, cough… Morgan, my stomach condition seems to be getting worse…”

Moldy peeling walls, dim lighting. The air reeked of cheap ointment and old wood. I sat at the paint-chipped wooden table. Half a piece of cold, hard bread sat before me. My phone vibrated. A message from Julian. “Morgan, I heard from the doctor that if your mom doesn’t get that imported medicine, she probably won’t make it past next month.” “I know that medicine is expensive—fifty thousand dollars.” “We’ll save together. I’ll quit smoking, you skip a few lunches. We can scrape it together.” Looking at these familiar words. I laughed. Laughed until tears streamed down my face. I’m back. I’m really back. Back to the day I decided to begin my “hellish economizing.” In my previous life, this message became my death warrant. I looked at that half piece of bread, nausea churning in my stomach. Not from hunger. From disgust. I grabbed the bread and hurled it into the trash. “Morgan? What’s wrong?” From the shabby bedroom came that woman’s weak voice. That was my “good mother,” Betty. The chairwoman of White Group. Right now she was lying on that creaking wooden plank bed, playing the role of a dying peasant woman. I stood up and walked to the door. Through the crack, I saw her quickly stuffing something into her mouth when she thought I wasn’t looking. A piece of imported chocolate. When she noticed me coming in, she moved lightning-fast to shove the chocolate under her pillow. Then switched to an expression of agony. “Morgan, I’m fine… just hurts terribly…” “Don’t worry about me. Better if I just die, stop being a burden to you…” Such great acting. You deserve an Oscar. In my previous life, seeing this scene broke my heart. I would kneel by the bed, crying and swearing to save her, then immediately go sell my blood. But now I leaned against the doorframe, watching her performance with zero expression. “Mom, if it hurts that much, don’t hold it in.” Betty froze. Seemingly unprepared for my calm reaction. “Morgan, the medicine is too expensive… we can’t afford it…” “Can’t afford it?” I curved my lips, my eyes ice-cold. “If we can’t afford medicine, we’ll find another way.” “Mom, didn’t you always teach me that people need to know how to utilize resources?” A flash of confusion crossed Betty’s eyes. This was her critique as an “examiner”—something I shouldn’t know about. But I didn’t give her time to think. “If you’re going to die anyway, why care about dignity?” “Mom, just wait.” “I’m going to get you money.” I turned and left. Behind me came Betty’s slightly panicked voice: “Morgan, where are you going? Don’t do anything rash!” Anything rash? Ridiculous. I just wanted to make this “Truman Show” a bit more exciting.

I walked out of that suffocating rental apartment. The sunlight outside stung my eyes. I felt my pockets. Fifteen dollars total. That was everything I owned. In my previous life, I used those fifteen dollars to buy ten pieces of bread that lasted me a week. This life, I walked straight into a lottery shop. Not to buy lottery tickets, but to borrow a charging cable and mooch some WiFi. I opened my phone and downloaded a streaming app. Registered an account. Name: [Terminal Mother and Devoted Daughter’s Final 30 Days]. The description dripped with pathos: “Destitute home, mother with terminal stomach cancer, no money for medicine.” “To save my mother, I’ll do whatever it takes.” “Please follow and witness a life’s miracle.” I knew my phone was monitored. My every move transmitted in real-time to that massive control room. Right now, my billionaire parents were probably frowning at their screens. “What’s she trying to do?” “Online begging? Too lowbrow. [Heir Selection Test – Strategic Sophistication Dimension] deduct 5 points.” The clear commentary from my previous life floating in the control room hadn’t disappeared with my rebirth. I turned on the camera, pointing it at my face—pale and gaunt from chronic malnutrition. I had to admit, this pitiful appearance was natural clickbait. I didn’t speak. Just quietly let tears fall. Tears dropped one by one onto the screen. That sense of despair, helplessness, brokenness—I portrayed it vividly. After all, I was someone who’d truly died once. This despair didn’t need acting. Soon, viewers entered the stream. “Poor girl.” “Oh my god, that complexion. She’s clearly been starving for a long time.” “Terminal stomach cancer? Real or fake?” “Probably a scammer.” Doubts followed quickly. I wiped my tears, my voice hoarse. “I know everyone doesn’t believe me.” “That’s okay.” “I’ll take you to see my mother right now.” “See where we live, see her writhing in pain on the bed.” “If I’m lying about anything, may I get hit by a car when I leave.” I held up my phone and walked back step by step. Passing a barbecue restaurant. That tempting aroma drilled into my nostrils. I stopped, my throat moving. The viewer count began to skyrocket. “She wants to eat.” “She must be starving.” “Send her money! Let her eat!” Someone sent a gift. I watched the special effects, the corner of my mouth curving imperceptibly. Facing the camera, I shook my head. “No, I can’t eat.” “This money is to save my mother’s life.” “I can still endure.” With that, I resolutely turned and walked away. My retreating figure looked determined yet desolate. The stream exploded. “This is torture!” “That willpower!” “Following! We have to help her!” In the control room. Dad’s pen paused. “Using online public opinion to gain sympathy?” “The method is lowbrow, but the effect is decent.” “This maneuver, [Heir Selection Test – Resource Acquisition Efficiency Dimension] barely earns 5 points.” Bonus points? Dad, you’re too naive. I’m not seeking sympathy. I’m putting you in an impossible position. Back at the rental. I violently pushed open the door. Shoved the camera right into Betty’s face. She was sitting cross-legged, holding that half-eaten chocolate. Seeing me enter with my phone, she froze completely. “Mom!” I let out a piercing wail and rushed over. “Are you delirious from hunger?” “That’s trash you picked up—you can’t eat that!” I snatched the chocolate from her hand and threw it hard on the floor. Then embraced her, sobbing hysterically. “It’s all my fault for being useless! Making you so hungry you’re eating garbage!” “Mom! I’ve failed you!” Betty was stunned. She looked at the imported chocolate on the floor, then at my streaming phone. Her expression instantly became uglier than if she’d eaten excrement. The stream erupted. “What’s that black thing?” “Looks like chocolate?” “Picked from trash? That’s horrible!” “Her mom’s so hungry she’s lost her mind!” “Send money fast! Don’t let them starve to death!” Gift effects filled the screen. I buried myself in Betty’s arms, my whole body shaking with sobs. Only I knew I was actually laughing. Mom, how did that “garbage” imported chocolate taste? Are you satisfied?

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On the day my wife gave birth to a child for her terminally ill first love, her parents hired ten bodyguards to stand guard outside the delivery room. My mother-in-law held my wife’s hand and sighed. “Vivian, don’t worry. We absolutely won’t let your husband get anywhere near you.” Vivian nodded weakly, her face pale. Seeing that I hadn’t come to cause a scene, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t understand why I couldn’t be more understanding—it was just helping her first love have a child. Watching the nurse cradle the wailing infant, she smiled with relief. She was even willing to let me be the child’s father. But what she didn’t know was that I had just submitted my report to the United Nations. In seven days, I would renounce my citizenship, become a doctor without borders, and never return. The day Vivian was discharged from the hospital, I had just finished the handover procedures at work. As I reached the door, I heard cheerful laughter from inside. “This baby is so beautiful. Those big eyes are just like his father’s.” My mother-in-law cooed at the infant in her arms while Marcus emerged from the kitchen carrying a steaming bowl of chicken soup. “I made this soup myself. You’re still weak, you need to nourish yourself.” He sat by the bed, feeding Vivian with a gentle expression. The scene looked like a harmonious family. My father-in-law held a rattle, grinning from ear to ear. “This child is so lovable, just like his father. Thank goodness he’s not Anderson’s—having a doctor for a father would be such a headache.” My hand tightened on the doorknob. I remembered the first time I met my father-in-law, when he patted my shoulder and said being a doctor was good, that saving lives was an honor for the whole family. He even said he used to be a doctor himself, and if not for injuring his hand during a medical dispute, he wouldn’t have retired early. But now, he was saying doctors didn’t deserve families. I had only been away for advanced training for one year, and this home had already completely shut me out. I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. Vivian and I had been married for three years. She said she was childfree, and I understood how painful childbirth was for women, so I didn’t force her to have children. I still remembered the day I left for overseas training—her eyes were red from crying as she said she couldn’t bear to be apart from me. Throughout that year, we video-called every day to share our lives. Even my colleagues teased us, saying that despite being married for three years, we still acted like young lovers in the honeymoon phase. But just a month ago, I finally managed to request leave and came home. Even after an eight-hour flight, I didn’t complain about being tired. I rushed home, only to find Vivian heavily pregnant, standing beside her first love. My thoughts were pulled back by Marcus’s voice. “Anderson, when did you get back? Why are you standing at the door?” Hearing his words, the others in the room turned to look toward the entrance. When my father-in-law saw the resignation letter in my hand, he frowned deeply. “Why did I ever entrust my daughter to someone like you? What terrible luck. Now you’re quitting your job—are you planning to have us support you?” “Is this how you act as a husband?” My mother-in-law joined in condemning me. “You quit? You couldn’t even handle such a stable job. What else can you do?” “Vivian’s body is precious now. She and the baby need money for everything. If you don’t work, are the three of you supposed to starve?” Hearing this, I found it almost laughable. “Whoever’s wife and child should be supported by him.” “Anderson, what are you saying? How can you be so irresponsible?” Vivian couldn’t hold back anymore. With red-rimmed eyes, she shouted at me. Perhaps from emotional agitation, she clutched her chest and coughed violently. “Three years ago, if Marcus hadn’t saved me from that car accident, I might have died. His parents are gone, and now he’s been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Soon, there won’t be anyone left in this world who remembers him.” “Why do you always have to target him? Do you really think I’m that kind of filthy, disgusting woman?” Marcus helped her catch her breath while turning to look at me. “Anderson, you should say less. I know this is all my fault. I promise I won’t appear in your lives anymore, but don’t let me affect your marriage, okay?” I looked at the four people before me, already united as one front, and felt increasingly ridiculous. So this was what a real family looked like. Just then, Vivian suddenly spoke: “Anderson, my patience has limits. If you dare target Marcus again, don’t bother coming home!” “If you still want to continue this marriage, then settle down. At next week’s party, I can announce in front of our relatives and friends that you’re the child’s father.” Next week? I glanced at the baby already asleep in the stroller. Next week, I would be boarding a plane overseas. But before leaving, I didn’t mind giving them an unforgettable surprise. I nodded without changing expression. “Fine.”

After speaking, without waiting for their reaction, I turned and went to the bedroom to pack. Since I’d decided to leave completely, I didn’t want to leave any trace here. The laughter from the living room seeped through the door. My hands paused slightly as I folded clothes. “Marcus, I want to use your surname for this child. That way, even if he calls someone else ‘dad’ in the future, he’ll always remember you’re his real father.” Even without seeing it, I could imagine the deep affection on Vivian’s face as she said this. My heart had long been torn to shreds by her. I suddenly remembered last month when I rushed home, holding a souvenir I’d bought for Vivian from abroad. But at the doorstep, I saw Vivian and Marcus returning hand-in-hand from a walk. Unlike Vivian’s panicked expression, Marcus looked at me with puzzled eyes and questioned whether I’d come to the wrong door. I said nothing, my gaze fixed on Vivian’s pregnant belly. After eleven months away, my wife was pregnant. No matter what, I couldn’t deceive myself into believing this child was mine. Until Vivian frantically positioned herself in front of Marcus and introduced me. “This is my husband, Anderson.” I thought hearing this would make Marcus back off, but instead, like the man of the house, he invited me to come in and sit. As we passed each other, he spoke in a voice only we could hear. “I heard you’re quite a bit older than me? Then I’ll call you ‘bro.’ After all, your wife is carrying my child.” My chest burned with rage. I couldn’t hold back anymore and punched him hard in the face. I completely lost my rationality. The eleven months of missing Vivian transformed into fury. If there’d been a knife nearby, I might have actually killed this pair of adulterers. A neighbor heard the commotion and called the police. We were all taken to the station, but since it involved domestic matters, the police couldn’t intervene much and just sent us home. As soon as we got home, my in-laws, who’d rushed over, didn’t ask anything—they just berated me. They cursed me for causing such a scene as soon as I returned, making the neighbors laugh at us. They also cursed me for wasting all those years of education, actually resorting to violence, and said they’d never forgive me if something serious happened. Turns out they’d known all along about Vivian and Marcus being together, and even fully supported them. In just one year, Marcus had become the perfect son-in-law in their hearts. Only I had been kept in the dark. My mouth tasted bitter. I felt terrible. Vivian trembled as she walked to my side, trying to take my hand and persuade me. “I never meant to betray you. Marcus isn’t well. The doctor said he has at most six months to live. I couldn’t bear to see him die without even having a child.” “I wanted to discuss it with you before, but you were abroad, and I was afraid you’d worry too much and it would interfere with your studies. I planned to tell you when you came back.” “If you’re willing, can we raise this child together?” Having children—such a major decision—yet she made it sound so trivial. I placed the last piece of clothing in my suitcase. Just then, my mother-in-law pushed the door open. Seeing the suitcase by my feet, she wore an expression that said I was finally being sensible. “Since you haven’t been back, I let Marcus sleep in your room. The study has been converted into a nursery too, so tonight you’ll have to make do on the couch. Or you could go stay in a hotel?” I was truly exhausted and had no energy to go find a hotel. I nodded, planning to make do on the sofa for the night. But deep into the night, the baby’s cries kept coming from the bedroom. I rolled over, about to put in earplugs, when I heard Vivian’s complaining voice. “Can’t you do something about the baby? He keeps crying.” “You’re my baby. Taking care of you is enough. Crying is good for a baby’s lung capacity.” Vivian laughed softly and said “you’re terrible,” followed by a shameless giggle. I pulled the blanket over my head, trying hard to ignore those obscene sounds. But when I closed my eyes, Vivian’s face appeared—how she looked the first time she confessed to me.

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The day I tried on my wedding dress, a strange woman burst into the VIP room and stabbed me without warning. “Stealing my husband and still planning a wedding?” She tore my veil to shreds, her face twisted with a grotesque smile as she splashed acid toward me. The cold blade pierced my shoulder. I collapsed in front of the mirror, crying out in pain. But she grabbed my throat, forcing me to look up: “Ethan Cross is my husband. Who the hell do you think you are? Homewrecker!” Blood stained the pristine white dress. That’s when it hit me. My perfect boyfriend of three years, the man I’d been engaged to, was already married. “What are you staring at? Even if I kill you right now, no one can touch me!” I grabbed my phone with blood-soaked hands and called my sister. “Pick me up at the bridal shop. And tell the Cross family—the wedding’s off.” I was in so much pain I could barely hold my phone. The strapless wedding dress had become a burden. “You crazy bitch, do you even know who I am?” She let out a shrill laugh, her eyes wild with madness: “What, homewreckers think they’re entitled now?” Then she opened a livestream, shoving the camera right into my bloodied face. “Come on, let the whole internet see what a homewrecker looks like! See if you dare steal someone’s man again!” She changed the stream title maliciously to— “Wife Teaches Homewrecker a Lesson Live—Watch Her Get What She Deserves!” In the frame, I slumped helplessly against the shattered mirror. The expensive wedding dress was ruined with blood and filth. My exposed wounds looked horrific. The viewer count skyrocketed. The chat exploded: 【Good! Beat her harder! Homewreckers deserve to die!】 【That woman’s badly injured. Is someone gonna die?】 【Serves her right! You steal someone’s husband, you pay the price!】 I pressed my hand desperately against my shoulder, but blood kept seeping through my fingers. The strapless gown kept sliding down. I had to use my other hand to clutch the neckline, barely keeping myself covered on camera. Behind Vivian White stood two burly men, arms crossed, sneering coldly. I really regretted not bringing bodyguards today. “Help me, please! Someone call the police!” I reached toward the employees huddled by the door. But they just clustered together, pointing and whispering with expressions that said they were enjoying the show. Not one of them dared step forward. The wound hurt so badly my vision went dark, but I bit down hard, refusing to pass out. I forced myself to lift my head and stare into Vivian’s twisted face. “I’m the second daughter of the Sullivan family from New York. If you dare touch me, the Sullivans will never let you go!” Vivian looked like she’d heard the funniest joke in the world. She lifted her foot and kicked viciously at my bleeding wound. “The New York Sullivans? Ha! Never heard of them. Some nobodies!” She ground her heel into the wound. I nearly blacked out from the pain. “My husband is Ethan! The most powerful man in New York. What the hell is your Sullivan family?” She grabbed my hair, pulling the camera close to my pain-whitened face. “You all hear that? This homewrecker’s making up stories to scare people! What Sullivan heiress—laughable!” I curled up on the floor, my wound screaming where she stepped on it. Ethan had been a scholarship student my family sponsored years ago. I thought he was honest and decent. Three years ago, I got engaged to him. We were supposed to get married this year. Instead, I came to try on a wedding dress and discovered his betrayal. Blood and tears mixed together. I laughed. Laughed at myself for being blind enough to raise a venomous snake as my partner. Enduring the burning pain across my face, I used my last ounce of strength to shout at Vivian: “Get me to a hospital right now, and tell Ethan to get his ass here and see me!” Vivian clearly froze for a moment, but quickly turned vicious again. She grabbed my hair in a fist: “Who the hell do you think you are to demand my husband come see you?” “If I die here today,” I gasped through the pain but stared her down, “The first person buried with me will be you! Ethan won’t escape either!” As if provoked, she laughed maniacally: “So what if I kill you? The Cross family can afford to pay for it!” With that, she grabbed the half-empty bottle of acid from the table and splashed it toward my face. The door burst open with a loud BANG! “I’d like to see who dares touch my sister!”

A familiar voice rang out. Relief washed through me as I rasped to Vivian: “My sister’s here. You’re finished!” My sister Madison rushed in. The moment she saw me covered in blood, her face went deathly pale. She rushed over and pulled me into her arms, her voice trembling: “Riley! Don’t be scared. I’m here.” She carefully avoided my wounds, her fingers gently touching where the acid had splashed my face. Her eyes instantly reddened: “I’m sorry. I came too late.” The next second, she jerked her head up, her gaze cutting toward Vivian like a blade, her voice cold enough to freeze: “You’re the one who touched my sister? You’re asking for death!” Vivian burst into exaggerated laughter, as if she’d heard the world’s greatest joke: “Oh my! A whole family of sluts, each one with a bigger mouth than the last! What, planning to teach me a lesson?” She waved the acid bottle arrogantly: “Today I’ll teach you sisters a lesson you’ll never forget!” With that, Vivian hurled the acid at us! Fortunately, my sister’s bodyguard reacted instantly, flashing in front of us. His heavy suit jacket hissed as the acid ate through it. The bodyguards from both sides immediately clashed. The VIP room descended into chaos. But Vivian clearly had more people. Our side gradually lost ground. Frantic, I grabbed my sister’s sleeve: “Madison, is this all the people you brought?” My sister held me tightly, but her voice remained eerily calm: “Don’t worry. Dad’s security team is almost here.” She swept her cold gaze over the arrogant Vivian and her thugs, enunciating each word clearly: “I’d like to see who dares lay a finger on us Sullivan sisters today.” Vivian’s bodyguards had numbers, but they were all show. The few my sister brought were elite special forces veterans—fast and ruthless. In moments, they’d laid out all those burly thugs. Seeing her people sprawled on the floor, Vivian finally panicked. She fumbled for her phone and deliberately put it on speaker. “Honey!” She called out with a sob in her voice, “Some crazy woman’s bullying me! She insists she’s your fiancée and wants to kill me!” After a few seconds of silence, Ethan’s familiar, hypocritical voice came through: “Baby, don’t be scared. What fiancée? You’re the only one I love.” His voice suddenly turned cold: “Stay where you are. I’m on my way. I want to see who’s foolish enough to impersonate Ethan’s fiancée!” I heard every single word crystal clear through the phone. That was definitely Ethan’s voice. I couldn’t be mistaken. Yet he firmly denied having a fiancée, calling that crazy woman “baby” and claiming she was the one he loved most. My heart sank completely. So Vivian had been telling the truth. They’d probably been married behind my back all along. I leaned against my sister, my wound throbbing, but it couldn’t compare to even a fraction of the chill in my heart. Fine. Perfect. I’d wait right here. Wait for Ethan to show up in person and see what lies he could spin. The Sullivan family would never forgive this ungrateful snake. With Ethan’s promise, Vivian’s courage returned. She pointed at me and my sister, shouting to the onlookers: “My husband’s coming! He said himself he doesn’t know any Sullivan second daughter and never got engaged!” She lifted her chin proudly, holding up her phone: “I’m Ethan’s legally married wife! Whoever teaches these shameless sisters a lesson gets a hundred grand from me right now!” Under such a reward, someone’s eyes turned red with greed. A muscular bystander grabbed a chair and swung it at us! “Watch out!” My sister cried out, shielding me with her body. The heavy wooden chair slammed into her head. Blood instantly poured from her temple. She went limp and collapsed into my arms. “Madison!” Looking at her pale face, all the blood in my body rushed to my head. Three years of betrayal, the fury of my sister being injured for me—it all erupted like a volcano. I jerked my hand up and bit down hard, yanking the knife still embedded in my shoulder! The searing pain made my vision go black, but I didn’t care. I charged at Vivian. In her terrified gaze, I drove that blood-soaked knife deep into her stomach!

Vivian let out a pig-like squeal, her whole body arching in pain. I gripped the handle with both hands, using every ounce of strength to push it down, even viciously twisting the blade! “You worthless trash, how dare you hurt me!” Her face went deathly pale, veins bulging on her forehead, but she suddenly kicked me hard in the chest. I’d already lost so much blood. That kick landed with full force, sending me flying backward to slam into the wall. Something sweet rose in my throat, and I spat out blood. Vivian clutched her bleeding stomach, her face contorted as she shrieked: “I’ll add five hundred grand! Whoever kills this bitch gets the money!” Before she finished speaking, a bodyguard charged at me. The same chair that had hit my sister now came crashing down toward my head. “Don’t touch my sister!” My sister found strength from somewhere and lunged forward, wrapping her body around his legs. “Get off!” The bodyguard roared, his elbow slamming down hard on the back of her head. A dull thud. My sister’s body shuddered. She coughed up blood and collapsed, motionless. I threw myself at my sister’s side like a madwoman, holding her body tight, calling out again and again: “Madison! Wake up! Madison!” Two bodyguards rushed up and pinned down my arms. I struggled desperately, my wound tearing open, staining the wedding dress even redder with blood. Vivian staggered over clutching her stomach and ripped open the acid-burned fabric on my shoulder! “Ahhh——!” My whole body convulsed in pain. The rotting flesh was torn away forcefully, blood and tissue fluid streaming down. “Can’t take it already?” Vivian sneered, digging her nails into my wound. “When you were crawling into someone else’s husband’s bed, didn’t you think this day would come?” “Don’t worry, I’ve prepared a special gift for you two!” Vivian’s high heels rained down on me like hail, each kick landing on my most painful wounds. My vision went black. I lost consciousness completely. When I came to, blinding lights made it impossible to open my eyes. I found myself bound to a cold marble table alongside my sister, hands and feet locked in iron chains. Our bodies were covered in sticky raw fish slices, the fishy stench overwhelming. My sister lay beside me, still unconscious, her face bloodless. I struggled desperately, but the chains wouldn’t budge. Gritting through the pain, I shouted my sister’s name: “Madison, you have to hold on. Dad will be here soon. Please don’t fall asleep.” Then I twisted my head and glared at Vivian: “If anything happens to my sister, I will never let you go!” Vivian crossed her legs leisurely and sneered: “Don’t worry. She won’t die.” She suddenly waved her hand. A bodyguard beside her grabbed a huge bucket of ice water and hurled it at my sister! The bone-chilling water mixed with ice chunks slammed into my sister. Her face instantly went deathly pale. She woke with violent trembling. My sister weakly lifted her head, but her gaze remained razor-sharp: “Vivian, do you know who you’re messing with?” Vivian shrieked back, “I don’t care who!” “Wait until my husband gets here. You’ll see who really runs New York!” She sneered, pointing at the raw fish covering us: “But right now, enjoy the gift I prepared for you.”

Vivian yanked open the curtain in front of us. Blinding lights instantly illuminated us. That’s when I realized—we’d been bound in some kind of club, with guests packed in below. “Honored guests!” Vivian announced into a microphone, “Tonight’s grand finale—the Sullivan sisters!” She roughly tore open my ruined wedding dress, exposing my scarred skin: The crowd below erupted in jeering laughter and wolf whistles. Several men wearing gold chains rushed onto the stage first. I twisted desperately. The chains scraped my wrists raw and bloody. “Don’t touch my sister!” I screamed hoarsely, but a yellow-toothed man grabbed my chin. “Scream! The louder the better!” His foul-smelling saliva sprayed on my face as his fingers traced my collarbone. My sister suddenly spoke coldly: “Every inch of skin you touch will become evidence for the Sullivan family to hunt you down.” Just then, my phone rang. Vivian snatched it and triumphantly hit speakerphone. Ethan’s anxious voice immediately came through: “Riley! If you dare touch a hair on Vivian’s head, I’ll never forgive you!” Hearing Ethan defend Vivian on the phone, my heart felt drenched in ice water. This was the man I’d loved with all my heart for three years. The Sullivan family paid for his education, helped build his career. He trampled our sincerity underfoot. In the end, I meant less to him than a stranger. All these years of the Sullivan family’s support—we’d raised a white-eyed wolf. I bit down hard. Blood and tears flowed into my mouth. Fine. Perfect. Since he showed no loyalty, don’t blame me for showing none either. From today on, Riley Sullivan and Ethan—it’s war to the death. “Honey, where are you?” Vivian asked eagerly into the phone. Before she could gloat, Ethan’s terrified voice came through: “Wait! Why do you have Riley’s phone?” “I caught her and taught her a lesson!” Vivian said righteously. “Are you insane?!” Ethan’s voice cracked, “She’s the second daughter of the Sullivan family! Are you trying to destroy me? Let her go right now!” Hearing this, Vivian got angry. She shouted into the phone: “I don’t care about any Sullivan second daughter! You’re the most powerful person to me. Who could be more capable than you? Today I’m teaching her a lesson no matter what!” Furious, she hung up and smashed the phone on the floor. She pulled out a bucket from under the table. As Vivian unscrewed the lid, she rambled on: “Men cheat—it’s normal. Once you’re dead, Ethan will settle down. We can go back to how things were before.” The pungent smell of gasoline instantly filled the air. I shouted in terror: “Vivian, you’re insane! Murder is a capital crime!” “Capital crime?” “Ethan has plenty of money. He’ll clean this up for me. In New York, the Cross family IS the law!” Watching gasoline pour down over us, I forced down my fear and softened my voice: “Vivian, let me and my sister go. We’ll pretend today never happened. I’ll break up with Ethan immediately and never bother you again.” But Vivian wouldn’t listen. She pulled out a lighter, her face twisted with a maniacal smile: “Women’s mouths are full of lies! I’ll only believe it when I watch you die with my own eyes.” The lighter in her hand flicked open with a sharp click, sparking a flame. Just as the flame was about to fall, the club doors crashed open! Through the billowing smoke, my father’s thunderous roar shook the entire venue: “I’d like to see who dares touch my daughters!”

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On a stormy day, I was stuck at school, waiting for Megan to pick me up. Two hours later, she still hadn’t arrived. I couldn’t wait any longer and walked out, only to overhear Megan on the phone around the corner: “I know, I’ll bring him back!” “It’s not like I asked his dad to save me back then. I don’t owe him anything! Why should he emotionally blackmail me like this!” My heart ached. If I could choose, I’d rather my dad hadn’t saved her that day. That way, I wouldn’t have to live under someone else’s roof. That night, I submitted my application to teach in a remote district, determined to leave Megan behind for good. An hour after I got back, Megan’s car finally pulled into the driveway. She stormed upstairs, furious. “Liam, why didn’t you wait for me tonight!” Megan’s voice came from outside my door. I put away my dad’s photo and replied flatly, “I waited two hours.” Megan stood in the doorway, a flash of impatience crossing her face. “The rain caused traffic. Couldn’t you have waited a bit longer!” “What’s so great about that school anyway? Just come work at our family company!” I didn’t agree. “Got it.” I wasn’t ready to tell her about my plans to teach in the countryside yet. “It’s late. I’m going to bed. If there’s nothing else, please go back to your room.” I got up and gently pushed her out. Megan’s face darkened as she grabbed the doorframe. “Liam, there’s a class reunion the day after tomorrow. Come with me!” Thinking of that group of high school classmates made my stomach turn. Before I could refuse, she’d already typed my name into her phone. “I signed you up.” “I’m not going.” For the first time, I refused clearly, grabbing her phone and deleting my name. “Megan, I won’t go. Those are your friends, your circle. They have nothing to do with me! My life doesn’t need you to arrange it!” Megan froze, then laughed coldly. “Fine! I shouldn’t have bothered!” “You don’t need to!” I took a deep breath. “And you don’t need to worry about me anymore. I’m not your burden or your responsibility!” She responded by slamming the door. Looking at my dad’s photo on the desk, complex emotions welled up inside me. When I was six, Megan fell into the water. A flash flood had erupted while her family was camping by the river, and they couldn’t escape in time. Megan was swept into the current. My dad happened to pass by and jumped in without hesitation to save her, but he was pulled under by the rushing water from exhaustion. When they found him, his body was swollen beyond recognition from being submerged for so long. That’s how I lost my father. When the Langley family learned I’d become an orphan, they took me in. Megan took care of me constantly. We grew up together, inseparable. Even her friends joked that I was her shadow. Now she was saying I was emotionally blackmailing her. If I could choose, I’d rather it had been someone else who died in that flood instead of my dad. That way, I wouldn’t have to fall asleep every night looking at his photo. As for the class reunion she mentioned, I’d already seen it in the group chat. Those people had spread rumors in school, saying my dad knew his family was poor and used his sacrifice to give me a chance to latch onto the Langleys. I’d fought one of them over it, and we both got hurt. I was so upset that I refused to apologize even when facing suspension. Megan got the security footage to prove what really happened, and the person who spread the rumors was forced to apologize. But I never forgave them. Because that person was Megan’s good friend, and when they said those things, Megan probably agreed deep down. I left the group chat and looked over my teaching application materials again and again before hitting send. My mentor called right away. “Liam, you’ve decided? Does Megan know?” My mentor had met Megan before. I smiled. “She’s not the one who decides my life. I can make my own choices. It’s fine.” A soft sigh came through the phone. “Alright. Good luck with everything. See you the day after tomorrow.” “Yeah, thanks.” After hanging up, I surveyed my room and started packing. Since I’d decided to leave, I had no intention of coming back. Some things I couldn’t take with me, I’d just throw away. That night I slept restlessly, my dreams chaotic. When I woke, dawn was breaking. Unable to fall back asleep, I got up and went downstairs. Helen Langley was already in the kitchen.

“Liam, you’re up early. Do you have plans today?” “Yeah, going to school. My teaching practicum is almost over.” Helen set a bowl of oatmeal in front of me, her tone gentle. “What are your plans after graduation? You and Megan are the same age, and you’ve been in school all these years. When you enter society, make more friends so you won’t be lonely.” I understood her underlying meaning—she hoped I wouldn’t cling too much to Megan. Robert Langley had indicated more than once that he hoped I’d help Megan in the future, maybe even become part of the family. But Helen didn’t agree. Robert had gotten angry about it, calling her “ungrateful.” I’d once overheard their argument outside the study. I understood what Helen meant, and it stung at the time. The secret dependence and feelings beyond family affection I’d harbored in my youth—others could probably see them too. Not just because my dad saved her, but because back then, Megan really had given the lonely me so much warmth. But now I understood. In her eyes, the Langleys had raised me all these years, and that debt was more or less repaid. There was no need to be bound together like real family anymore. But I never needed them to repay any debt. I just wanted my dad back. If they hadn’t ignored the warnings and insisted on camping in that spot, Megan wouldn’t have been swept away. I smiled and said, “Helen, I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this for a while.” “The Langleys have raised me all these years, and I’m already an adult. I want to move out.” Helen paused. “Liam, you…” “My dad used to say that ultimately, people can only rely on themselves. The Langleys took me in for so many years—you and Robert gave so much. I can’t keep being a burden. It’s time I lived independently.” “I wanted to talk to Megan about this last night, but she was upset. I’m only telling you, and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it between us. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.” Helen looked shocked. “So soon!” She didn’t offer any polite words of persuasion, just that one “so soon,” which already revealed her true feelings. Probably realizing how she sounded, she quickly added, “I mean, isn’t it too rushed? You still have so many things to sort out. If Megan finds out, she’ll probably throw a fit.” “I’ll leave it to you to explain it to her, then. Tell her after I’m gone.” Helen’s expression softened. “Alright, Liam. You’ve always been sensible. Have you found a job? Where will you live?” “I found one. I’m going to be a teacher. I report the day after tomorrow. Haven’t found a place yet.” “That’s good, very good.” Helen’s tone clearly lightened. She turned and went upstairs, quickly returning with some documents. “This apartment is downtown, right by the subway station. Very convenient. Take it, Liam. When you’re living alone, stay safe. Don’t rent a place with strangers.” I accepted it. My dad’s life was worth all those years of support from them, plus this apartment. Teaching in a remote area would be tough, and I’d need money in the future. With this apartment, I’d at least have a place to stay when I came back. No need to be precious about it.

After breakfast, Helen took me to transfer the property deed. Looking at my name on the document, I felt relieved. I went back to continue packing. My eyes swept over the small trinkets on the bookshelf—all gifts Megan had given me over the years. I gathered them one by one, sealed them in a box, and prepared to take them to the storage room. As soon as I stepped out, I ran into Megan. “What’s that?” She frowned at the box. “Some old things I don’t need anymore. Taking them to storage.” “Let me help.” She took the box without waiting for an answer and walked off. I had no choice but to follow. “Liam, why won’t you go to the reunion? Are you still hung up on what those people said? That was so long ago! Leo’s back in town. Let’s all just hang out.” Hearing Leo’s name made me pause. So he was back. “I said I’m not going.” My voice was calm. “Megan, who you want to be close to is your business. Don’t use me as an excuse. We don’t have that kind of relationship anymore, and there’s no emotional blackmail. When it comes down to it, you don’t owe me anything either.” Megan’s face turned livid. “You!” I took the box back and put it in the storage room, then turned to leave. Behind me, I heard her kick a cardboard box. For the next two days, I sorted through my old things. Megan didn’t come home, and Robert was on a business trip. Helen helped me pack quite a bit, and I shipped it all away. The day I left, Helen looked up at the second floor, reluctance on her face. “That girl is so busy all the time… Never mind. Liam, she’s busy with work. Let’s not disturb her. Take care of yourself.” I wheeled my luggage out and sent Megan one final message: “Megan, goodbye.” No response. I headed straight for the station and began my long journey. That night, on the sleeper train, I was added back to that class group chat. As soon as I entered, I saw photos Leo had posted from the reunion—him and Megan sitting very close, his arm casually draped over the back of her chair. “After all this time, we meet again! Everyone’s still the same!” The group was full of congratulations and teasing. “Are you two together? Congrats!” “You’re perfect for each other. When’s the wedding?” “Liam didn’t come today. Is he upset? If you two get together, what about Liam?” Someone tagged Megan. After a long pause, Megan finally replied: “What about him? What does it have to do with me?” I stared at the screen, almost able to see her impatient face. I remembered high school, when she’d stand up for me and chase away troublemakers, then ruffle my hair and say, “Liam, you’re family. I’ll always take care of you.” “Liam, you’ve lived with us for so long. Just stay forever, okay?” I’d naively said back then, “I can’t stay forever. I’ll need my own place eventually.” But she’d stubbornly grabbed my wrist. “No! Everyone says you have to repay a life-saving debt. I have to take responsibility for you. We’ll… we’ll always be family.” Those words had made my heart race. I’d thought it was a promise. Looking back now, it was probably just a passing whim. Only I took it seriously. Messages kept flooding the group. Someone mentioned me again, and Megan brushed it off: “Stop bringing him up. He lived with my family for all those years. Any debt was paid off long ago.” Leo chimed in: “Exactly. Megan has her own life. She can’t be tied down by the past forever.” I laughed coldly and typed in the message box: “I could have lived without depending on anyone. It was you, Megan, who made me lose my only family. If I could turn back time, I would hold my dad back and stop him from saving you.” Send. Leave group. Block everyone. Megan, goodbye forever.

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New Year’s Eve, two in the morning, I rushed home through the snow. The moment I pulled back the covers, a strong scent of perfume hit me in the face. This wasn’t my perfume. Then I felt something sticky on the bed, and beside the pillow lay a long strand of blonde hair. I stared at my sleeping husband, Warren. He suddenly jerked awake, stammering: “You… how did you get back early?” I forced down my nausea and didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I sent a message to that college girl I’d been supporting for four years, who was currently sleeping in the guest room: [Are you asleep? I prepared a New Year’s gift for you—fifty thousand in cash] My phone vibrated. Mia’s message popped up immediately. [Thank you! I just woke up, Happy New Year!] Just woke up? Two minutes ago, I clearly heard sounds of someone getting dressed and coughing from the guest room next door. For fifty thousand dollars, she wouldn’t even bother pretending. I left the bedroom. Warren sprang up instantly, reaching out to grab me: “Honey, where are you going this late?” His palm was covered in cold sweat. The feeling reminded me of the bed sheets I’d just touched. “To give Mia her gift.” I avoided his hand and grabbed a stack of cash from the nightstand. “It’s New Year’s. Of course I should give a gift.” Warren’s face turned pale, his eyes darting toward the door: “You could give it to her tomorrow… she must be sleeping…” “She’s awake. She just replied to my message.” I ignored his attempt to stop me and pulled open the door. Walking through the hallway, I found the guest room door slightly ajar. I pushed it open. A wave of cheap perfume hit me, mixed with the smell of bodily fluids after sex. Mia was wearing a silk nightgown I’d bought last year, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Seeing me come in, there was no shame on her face. Instead, a trace of a smile appeared: “Hey, why are you back so late?” The sheets were rumpled, there was an indentation on the pillow, and a half-full glass of water sat on the nightstand. I walked to the bedside, looking at this girl we’d been supporting for four years. Her face was indeed young, with an innocence that hadn’t been beaten down by society yet. “Take it.” I raised my hand and threw the fifty thousand dollars right at her face. Bills flew through the air, landing on her hair, her shoulders, falling into her low-cut neckline. Mia froze. The next second, she crawled on the bed, picking up the money piece by piece and clutching it to her chest, her face all smiles: “Thank you so much. You’re so good to me.” As she bent down, her neckline slipped, revealing a small red mark on her chest. I forced down the urge to tear these two apart. “You’re welcome. After all, some money isn’t easy to earn—you have to trade your body for it.” Mia’s movements paused. She looked up, her eyes venomous but quickly switching to innocent: “What are you talking about? I’m using knowledge to change my destiny.” “Is that so?” I glanced at the bed sheets. “I think what you’re learning isn’t knowledge—it’s positions.” With that, I turned and left without looking at her expression. Back in the master bedroom, Warren stood by the window. He’d already rolled up the electric blanket into a ball. “Honey, this blanket’s a bit old. I just saw some dirty stuff on it. Let’s get a new one tomorrow.” “Dirty stuff? It is pretty filthy.” I walked to the bed and yanked down the sheets, duvet cover, and pillow cores in one motion. “Throw it all away. I don’t like things other people have touched. Disgusting.” Warren didn’t dare argue. He carried the pile of bedding out of the room. Watching his back, I pulled out my phone and opened an app. It was for the miniature cameras I’d installed earlier to observe the cleaning lady’s work. They happened to cover the blind spots in the living room and hallway. On the screen, two people were tangled together, rolling from the living room into the master bedroom. I expressionlessly saved the video.

The next morning, firecrackers sounded outside the window. Warren got up unusually early. The dining table was set with pizza and roast chicken. “Honey, eat while it’s hot.” Warren was wearing an apron. “You worked hard last night. Just rest at home today.” Mia sat across from him, wearing a turtleneck sweater that covered her neck. Seeing me come out, she got up and ladled a bowl of soup, placing it in front of me: “Try this soup. Warren went specially to a restaurant to buy it.” I didn’t touch the utensils, looking at Warren instead: “Rest? You’re supposed to come with me to my parents’ place today. Did you forget?” Warren’s smile stiffened. Then he clutched his stomach: “Oh no, honey, I was fine until you mentioned it, but now my stomach’s cramping.” “I probably caught a chill waiting up for you until midnight last night.” What a performance! If I hadn’t seen the video of him naked and tangled with Mia, I might have believed him. “That’s right.” Mia immediately chimed in. “Warren’s health has never been good. It’s snowing so hard outside—what if it gets worse?” “Why don’t… you go by yourself? I’ll stay home and take care of him.” What a harmonious duet. So this is what they were waiting for. “Fine.” I picked up the car keys. “Since your stomach hurts, stay home and rest. Remember to take your medicine. Don’t die at home—that would be unlucky.” Warren breathed a sigh of relief: “Drive carefully, honey. Come back early.” I walked out. The moment I closed the security door, I heard Mia’s laughter from inside: “Finally she’s gone, that old hag…” I got in the car but didn’t start the engine. Instead, I pulled out my phone and connected to the surveillance feed. On the screen, the second I left, Warren pulled Mia into his arms: “Baby, you scared me. I thought she’d discovered something.” Mia pushed him, then leaned into his embrace: “So what if she discovers it? You already said once we get the money, we’ll run away together.” Warren chuckled, his hand sliding under her clothes: “Just be patient a little longer. The equity transfer agreement for her company can be signed next month.” “When that happens, this whole family will be ours.” Mia pushed Warren away and walked into the master bedroom. A few minutes later, she came out. She was wearing my brand-new haute couture cashmere coat that I’d just brought home, along with my diamond necklace. She spun in front of the hallway mirror: “Warren, do I look good in this?” “This coat is wasted on that old woman. Only I’m worthy of wearing it.” Warren hugged her from behind: “Beautiful, so beautiful! All of this will be yours soon—even this house.” Mia stroked the coat’s collar: “Of course. Oh, that fifty thousand she gave me—can I use it to buy a bag?” “Buy it! Whatever you want!” The two started unbuttoning each other in front of the mirror. I turned off the surveillance and took a deep breath. I hadn’t even cut the tags off that coat yet. I started the car and floored the gas pedal. But I didn’t go to the cemetery. Instead, I circled the neighborhood and parked back downstairs. Since you two are so eager, I’ll grant your wish. Five minutes later, I stood at my front door and took out my keys. I turned the lock directly. The soft “click” echoed through the living room. The door opened. In the living room, two tangled figures sprang apart instantly. Mia was wearing my coat, the buttons half undone, with her sweater pushed up underneath. Warren’s belt was unbuckled, his pants hanging on his hips. Seeing me, both their faces went deathly pale. Warren nearly fell to his knees, stuttering: “H-honey? How… how did you come back?” I ignored him, staring at my coat on Mia’s body, and strode over. I backhanded her across the face. “Take it off.” Mia was stunned, covering her face without reacting. I physically tore it off her. “You think you’re worthy of wearing my clothes?” I looked into her eyes. “Look at yourself. You really think putting on phoenix feathers makes you a divine bird?”

I’d stripped Mia down to just her turtleneck sweater. She huddled in the corner of the couch, crying. “I… I didn’t mean to… Warren said the coat looked nice and told me to try it on…” Warren finally snapped out of it and rushed over to push me away, standing in front of Mia: “Claire! What’s wrong with you?” “It’s just a coat! Mia is a student you’re supporting—she’s like our daughter!” “Daughter?” I pointed at the two disheveled people. “What kind of father rolls around on the couch with his so-called daughter?” “Warren, did you leave your brain in the bedsheets, or do you think I’m blind?” Warren’s face turned red: “We… we were just playing around. You’re thinking dirty thoughts—your mind is filthy!” Just then, the doorbell rang. “Warren! Open up! We came to visit you!” Hearing the voices, Mia’s eyes lit up. She immediately wiped away her tears, fixed her hair and clothes, and rushed over to open the door. “Happy New Year, everyone!” Mia took the local specialties from various aunts and relatives, her face full of smiles. If you ignored her swollen face, you’d really think she was the lady of the house. “Oh my, this must be Mia! What a pretty girl!” “This girl is so thoughtful, up early doing housework. Not like some people who travel for work on New Year’s and don’t care about family at all.” Aunt Grace pursed her lips, her eyes cutting toward me. These relatives had always looked down on me because I didn’t give them money and hadn’t had children. Mia poured tea for everyone and arranged strawberries in the most prominent spot: “Everyone, please try these. These are organic strawberries that Claire specially bought—over a hundred dollars per pound.” “Usually Claire won’t even let me eat them, but today you all get to enjoy them.” Aunt Grace ate while talking: “Of course—she’s a CEO. How could she care about us poor relatives?” “Only Mia is kind-hearted. Warren, you need to think clearly about some things. You should marry someone who cares about family, not someone who only has eyes for money.” Warren smiled apologetically, but his eyes kept drifting to Mia. I leaned against the cabinet, watching this farce. “Aunt Grace is right.” I suddenly spoke, a fake smile on my face. “Mia really is capable. Since she loves doing housework so much, tonight’s dinner is all hers to prepare.” Mia’s smile froze. “Also.” I pointed at the bathroom. “The toilet’s a bit clogged. The cleaning lady is on vacation. Since Mia is so thoughtful, why don’t you scrub it while you’re at it?” Mia looked to Warren for help. Warren was about to speak when I cut him off: “What? Does it hurt your feelings? Didn’t you say she’s like our daughter? Shouldn’t a daughter help out around the house?” In front of the relatives, Warren could only grit his teeth: “Mia, then… help Claire out.” Mia went into the kitchen with red-rimmed eyes. Watching her cough from the cooking fumes, I felt slightly better. I sat on the couch cracking sunflower seeds, listening to Aunt Grace and the others criticize me. Until a bratty kid suddenly pulled something out of Mia’s bag. “Mommy! Look how pretty this is!” It was a limited edition lipstick I’d lost last month. The living room went silent. Aunt Grace looked embarrassed: “This… maybe Mia accidentally took it by mistake…” “Accidentally?” I took the lipstick and looked at Mia, who had just brought out a dish. “This lipstick hasn’t even been opened. What, my things grew legs and walked into your bag?” Mia’s face turned pale, the plate trembling in her hands. Warren immediately jumped in: “I gave it to Mia. I saw you didn’t use that shade much, so I gave it to her.” Mia’s tears came on command: “You gave it to me… don’t you remember?” Magnificent. I tossed the lipstick back into her knockoff bag and wiped my hands. “Fine. Since I gave it to you, I’ll see it through.” Under the table, I sent a message to my lawyer: [Is the agreement ready? I need it tonight.]

The dinner table was covered with food. Mia was exhausted, her makeup smudged, her hair greasy. She forced herself to sit next to Warren and put a piece of pizza on my plate: “Try my cooking.” The sauce looked blackish. I didn’t touch it, just swirled my wine glass. Suddenly, Mia covered her mouth and rushed into the bathroom with a “gag.” Retching sounds came from inside. Aunt Grace’s eyes lit up: “Oh my! That sound… could she be pregnant?” Warren’s chopsticks shook. He gulped down some liquor, his face darkening. Mia came out supporting herself against the wall, her eyes red. “Warren… I…” “It’s okay, I’m here!” Warren pulled Mia onto his lap. “Claire, since we’re already talking about this, I won’t hide it anymore.” “Mia is pregnant. It’s my child.” Aunt Grace glanced at me. “Claire, don’t blame Warren.” “You’ve been married four years and your belly still hasn’t moved.” Aunt Susan chimed in: “Exactly! What man doesn’t want a child?” “Mia is young with a healthy body. Since she’s pregnant, it’s heaven’s will.” “As a wife, you should be magnanimous and let her have the child.” Warren raised his voice: “Mia doesn’t need a title. As long as the child can be born and recognized by the family.” “You’ll still be the lady of the house. The child will even call you Mom.” “You want me to raise a mistress’s child?” I lifted my wine glass and swirled it. “Warren, has your brain short-circuited? You can actually dream this up?” Warren slammed the table. “Claire! Don’t be ungrateful!” “If I hadn’t taken care of you these past years, could you have focused on your career?” “Now I just want a child, and you want to kill us all? You’re so vicious.” Mia huddled in his arms crying: “Claire, I don’t want anything. I just want to repay Warren for his kindness…” “If you really can’t accept me, I’ll leave right now, even if I end up on the streets…” “Leave? Where to?” Aunt Grace stood up and blocked the door. “You’re carrying our family’s child. Who dares let you leave!” “Repayment, huh?” I put down my wine glass. The glass made a crisp sound hitting the table. “Since everyone is so righteous, I have a video of Mia’s repayment here.” “Let’s watch it while we eat. It’ll liven up the evening.” I picked up the remote and pressed the cast button. On the TV screen, Warren and Mia were naked and tangled on the couch. Mia’s voice came through: “Warren, your poor relatives are so annoying, especially that Aunt Grace.” “She wanted me to date her son? She should look in a mirror.” Warren laughed between heavy breaths: “Bear with it, baby. They’re just a bunch of old leeches.” “Once Claire dies and we get the money…” “The first thing I’ll do is cut ties with these poor bastards so they stop clinging to us.” On screen, Mia’s finger traced circles on Warren’s chest: “So… that accident insurance, did you buy it?” “The brake pads on her car—you tampered with them and it really can’t be detected?” Warren’s voice echoed through the living room: “Don’t worry, I’ve arranged everything.” “As long as something happens to her, that’s tens of millions in compensation, plus this house and the company shares…” “Then we’ll take the money and go abroad. Who cares if these poor relatives live or die?” Only the laughter of the two people on screen echoed through the room. Aunt Grace trembled all over, pointing at Warren: “You… what did you say? You want to cut ties? And you want to… murder someone?” Mia had lost all color in her face, collapsing limply to the floor. Warren stared at the screen, his lips trembling, unable to speak. I took a sip of red wine. “This is the New Year’s gift Miss Mia prepared for you all. How about it? Surprised?”

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On Women’s Day, my husband Frederick sent me a muscular man with a bow tie around his neck. “This is the latest companion robot. Let him keep you company from now on. Vivian is pregnant, so I need to spend more time with her. Stop bothering me.” He spoke impatiently, then turned and left. But I looked at the lifelike robot with a face remarkably similar to my childhood friend Xavier’s, and smiled with delight. That evening, I sent Xavier a message: “You knew my marriage contract expires today and I’m single again, so you came early to pursue me?” “Yes.” Xavier replied to my message. “Eight years of repaying a debt—finally over.” With his sigh, my thoughts drifted back to when I was eighteen. My parents both died suddenly in an accident. I couldn’t handle it at the time. My mental breakdown led to several hospitalizations. Then Grandpa Frederick suddenly appeared, arranged for top doctors, and helped me recover. He had only one request—that I help support his good-for-nothing grandson, Frederick. I agreed. From then on, I began my love-hate relationship with Frederick. He went from initially finding me annoying to showing unnatural care and protection. He would clumsily make me necklaces by hand on my birthday. He would make my favorite macarons during my period. His clumsy love moved my heart. So when he confessed with a blushing face at graduation, I said yes. But everything changed when his first love, Vivian, returned to the country just before our wedding. He denied everything between us, publicly claiming I was just a housekeeper his grandfather hired to take care of him. Grandpa Frederick was so angry he nearly died. As he took his last breath, he held my hand and asked me to marry Frederick for three years and protect him for three more. Today is the last day. I rubbed my temples and stood up to pack my things. But unexpectedly, Frederick came back and brought me a small cake. “Eat it. I remember you like these.” I looked at the mango on the cake and smiled bitterly, shaking my head. He forgot—I’m allergic to mangoes. Vivian is the one who likes mango cake. I tugged at the corner of my mouth and just asked him, “Why did you come back?” He said proudly, “It’s all because Vivian is so kind. She insisted that since today is Women’s Day, I should come back and keep you company.” “See, this is the grace a proper wife should have. You should learn from her.” I froze. Vivian always did this—displayed her magnanimity at inappropriate times. But they both forgot that I’m Frederick’s legitimate wife. Not wanting to say more, I just stared at the clock, quietly spacing out, hoping he’d leave quickly. But Frederick loosened his tie and lay sideways on the sofa, showing no intention of moving. His face full of hopeful fantasies: “I hope Vivian has a girl, just like her—kind and lovely.” Then he looked at me critically: “Look at you—your personality is so unlikable, always controlling people. Nobody wants you.” “And I’ve been thinking about the future too. When the child is born, it needs to be legitimate, so you’ll have to give up your position as Mrs. Frederick.” “Don’t worry, I already talked to Vivian about it. You can stay here afterward to take care of Vivian and the child. After all, Grandpa originally had you take care of me, so you should be quite skilled at being a housekeeper.” As his constant belittling continued, my heart still couldn’t help but ache. Just as I was about to tell him about the contract, the doorbell rang abruptly. Vivian had arrived.

Frederick quickly stood up and carefully helped her inside, constantly instructing: “You should have called me. I would have picked you up.” “The baby didn’t give you trouble on the way, did it?” I watched Vivian, who wasn’t showing much yet, proudly thrusting out her waist and abdomen. I turned to go back to my room. But Vivian spoke with a wronged expression: “Hannah, do you not welcome me?” “Then I’ll just leave.” Before I could say anything, Frederick grabbed my arm forcefully and shouted: “You did that on purpose?! Making Vivian sad.” “Go make soup. Vivian likes the eight-treasure soup you make.” I stood there without moving. Frederick’s face darkened, and he dragged me directly toward the kitchen. “You can come out when it’s done.” “Click”—the door locked. Through the transparent glass, I saw Vivian’s provocative smile and a flash of light in the robot’s eyes. I stood there indifferently for a moment, then started moving. Not just making soup—I fried, sautéed, and stir-fried, preparing a whole table of dishes. Consider it tonight’s farewell dinner. An hour later, when I finished cooking, sweat covering my forehead, Frederick mercifully opened the kitchen door and said: “Wouldn’t it have been better if you’d done this earlier?” Seeing the abundant dishes on the table, satisfaction flashed in his eyes, and he said to me condescendingly: “Alright, bring them out. You can eat at the table with us tonight.” I shook my head, but he grabbed me and forced me into a chair. “Why are you being difficult?!” “This is the only time you’ll eat at the table. From now on, you need to be self-aware of your position as a housekeeper.” Vivian saw me sit down and said sourly: “Hannah, you really care about Frederick. Everything on this table is what he loves to eat.” I paused, quietly picked up food with my chopsticks, and replied, “It’s a habit.” A habit of being good to him, taking care of him, so I reflexively made these dishes while cooking. A trace of emotion flashed in Frederick’s eyes. Just as he was about to say something— Vivian suddenly clutched her stomach and cried out: “Ah! My stomach hurts.” “Hannah, did you put something in the food?” She started crying: “If you have any complaints, take them out on me. Why harm my child?!” I shook my head repeatedly in denial. “No, I didn’t.” Before I could finish, Frederick angrily slapped me hard across the face. “Bitch! I knew you were up to no good!” “Come to the hospital with us. If anything happens to Vivian, I’ll make you pay with your life.” I helplessly followed them. At the hospital, after examination, there were no drug residues found. But Vivian kept crying that her stomach hurt. Finally, the doctor diagnosed that she’d had fetal movement and needed rest. Frederick demanded I stay to take care of her: “You made Vivian unhappy in the first place, so you’re responsible.” “Besides, you’re going to stay as a housekeeper to take care of Vivian and the child anyway. Consider this early practice.” Seeing his self-righteous manner, I laughed in anger and told him directly: “Frederick, our marriage contract has expired. We have no relationship now. I’m leaving, and you have no right to restrict my freedom.” He was stunned by my cold tone. After a moment, he recovered and sneered: “What expired contract? Are you playing hard to get with me? I’m not falling for that.” “Hannah, serve obediently, and I’ll keep you at the Frederick house.” He restrained me in front of Vivian’s hospital bed, instructed me to take good care of her, then kept watching me. I couldn’t find a chance to leave. Until a group of Frederick’s friends arrived.

“Frederick, you really have your wife taking care of your mistress. Impressive.” “Back then, Grandpa Frederick’s small favor got you eight years of Hannah’s devoted care. What a bargain.” “But she doesn’t know her parents’ death wasn’t an accident, does she? It was deliberate, connected to one of your family’s shady companies. After Grandpa Frederick quickly dealt with the company, he discovered Hannah’s talent and extended help. All these years, she’s proven her worth. Grandpa Frederick was truly a businessman—so shrewd.” I froze in the hospital room, quickly covering my mouth to prevent any sound from escaping. Tears kept flowing. The conversation outside the room continued. Frederick said casually: “So what if she knows? An orphan girl—being Mrs. Frederick for three years is already more than she deserves.” “What, Frederick, sounds like you’re planning to divorce her?” “Then I… hehe, honestly, your wife’s figure—curves in all the right places, ass ripe as a peach—I’ve been eyeing her for a while. Can I have a taste?” The air suddenly went silent. After a moment, Frederick replied indifferently: “Whatever.” My clenched fists loosened. I slumped into the chair and closed my eyes. Soon, the hospital room door opened. Frederick and his friends came in. “How are you taking care of Vivian? Sleeping with your eyes closed!” Frederick came in and scolded me first. Then he anxiously checked on Vivian, and seeing everything was fine, breathed a sigh of relief. Just as he was about to say something more to me, I didn’t want to face him anymore and turned to leave. At that moment, his friends stepped forward and surrounded me. One of them looked at me with sticky eyes, constantly moving closer. With nowhere to retreat, I called out to Frederick: “Make them leave.” Frederick was noncommittal, raising his eyebrows and saying: “Weren’t you the one who wanted to leave? I didn’t stop you. I won’t stop my friends either.” “Besides, my friends like you—that’s why they’re keeping you here.” Hearing his shameless words, I gritted my teeth and tried to rush out. But three or four men had me completely surrounded. I had nowhere to retreat. Just as I was about to scream for help, Vivian woke up. Frederick immediately told his friends to stop. “Don’t disturb Vivian’s rest. If you want to fool around, go elsewhere.” I took advantage of the men’s moment of confusion, broke through the encirclement, and left. When I got home and opened the door, I found the lifelike robot had moved to the living room. I remembered clearly putting it in the basement. Just as I was puzzled, the robot extended its hand. “I came to get you.” Touching the warmth of its palm, I knew—Xavier had come. “I saw them bullying you through the robot. I couldn’t stand it, so I flew here.” “I’ll take you away.” I nodded silently, then said: “Wait three more days. I want to give Frederick a big gift before I leave!” Xavier indulged me. That day, he first took me to his local property to settle in. Then, after listening to the truth about my parents, he was equally furious. “So that’s what happened.” “Don’t worry, Hannah. I’ll help collect evidence too.” “And…” He looked at me with heartache: “When your family had that accident, I was abroad and didn’t know, otherwise…” “These years, you’ve suffered.” I smiled and shook my head: “It’s fine. I believe good and evil will always be repaid.” The next day, to make me happy, Xavier took me shopping through all the major jewelry and clothing stores. We accidentally ran into Frederick’s friends. They all contacted Frederick. “Frederick, isn’t this your wife? How is she with a man?” Frederick waved his hand casually: “What man? That’s the lifelike robot I bought for her.” “Hannah will never have another man besides me in this life.” He was drunk, face flushed, tongue thick as he shouted. A second-generation rich kid next to him suddenly looked at the screen and exclaimed: “Is that him?!” “The mysterious Xander family’s grandson they found ten years ago, the current head of the Xander family.” “He’s always been abroad. Why did he come back?” Frederick’s heart trembled. He looked carefully. After a long moment, he said dismissively: “It’s not him. It really is a robot I bought.” “They just have somewhat similar facial features.” “If you don’t believe me, I’ll call Hannah and ask.” The moment he dialed, he paused. It was already 2 AM. At this time, Hannah would be asleep, and she had neurasthenia—she was most afraid of being suddenly awakened. But… Frederick sneered. No matter what time, as long as it was a call from him, she would answer instantly. This was a habit she’d developed over the years. Thinking this, Frederick confidently dialed. But the next second, a cold response came from the phone: “Sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service.”

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The night before the wedding, my fiancé’s foster sister posted a video on Snapchat. In the video, Ethan—who’s always been such a germaphobe—was kneeling on the floor, using my wedding veil to wipe her feet. “Even though he’s about to become someone else’s husband, he’ll always take care of his little sister.” I went to pick up drunk Ethan, and Mia insisted on coming home with us. While I was washing up, she deliberately threw my wedding ring down the drain. I didn’t get angry. Ethan noticed something was off about me, but his face showed only relief. “Vivian, you’re finally learning to be tolerant of my sister.” I didn’t respond. I just smiled and voluntarily gave up the bedroom to Mia, who was demanding to sleep with Ethan. He had no idea that the good days for the Hayes family were about to end. Why would I care about this boundary-crossing sibling relationship anymore? The next day, only ten minutes remained until the wedding ceremony. The officiant had already come to urge us three times, but the groom Ethan was nowhere to be seen. My bridesmaid burst through the door, gasping for breath. “Vivian, stop waiting!” “I heard that on the way here, Mia got a stomachache, and Ethan turned the wedding car around and carried her straight to the hospital!” I called Ethan. The phone rang for a long time before someone picked up. The first sound I heard was Mia’s coughing. “Ethan, go back! Vivian’s wedding can’t happen without you. I can manage alone at the hospital.” Ethan’s voice was full of anxiety and heartache. “Don’t talk nonsense. You’re breaking out in cold sweats from the pain—how can I leave?” Then he spoke into the phone, his tone laced with irritation. “Vivian, Mia’s in really bad shape. I can’t leave.” “Go calm down the guests and tell them the wedding will start a bit late.” Hearing his self-righteous tone, I found it laughable. “Ethan, this is a wedding. Can a wedding just ‘start a bit late’?” “Vivian! Is the wedding more important than someone’s life in your mind?” Ethan snapped impatiently and hung up directly. I stood up and walked toward the banquet hall. The originally noisy hall instantly fell silent, dissolving into whispers. Ethan’s parents approached with embarrassed expressions. Mrs. Hayes grabbed my hand and lowered her voice. “Vivian dear, Ethan went to handle an emergency. Why don’t you just hold the wedding by yourself?” “Both our families care about our reputation. Don’t waste any more time—the guests are waiting.” I coldly pulled my hand away. At that moment, my bridesmaid shoved her phone in front of my face, trembling with rage. “Vivian, look at what Mia posted on Snapchat!” On the screen was Mia’s freshly updated status. In the picture, Ethan sat by the hospital bed, tightly holding her hand. The caption read: “Even if the whole world is waiting for him to get married, he’ll still stop for me.” I walked straight onto the stage and took the microphone from the officiant. “Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend this wedding.” “Unfortunately, the groom has someone more important to be with today.” “Therefore, the wedding is canceled. Please enjoy the food and drinks.” After speaking, I ignored the ashen faces of the Hayes parents, casually tossed the microphone aside, lifted my wedding dress, and walked out of the banquet hall without looking back. I returned to the new house Ethan and I had prepared and began packing my things. The door was suddenly pushed open. Ethan rushed in and slammed his hand down on my suitcase. “Vivian, have you made enough of a scene!” “Didn’t I tell you to calm the guests at the venue? You publicly announced the wedding cancellation—where does that leave my parents’ dignity!”

I stopped what I was doing and straightened up to look at him. “When you abandoned me for Mia, did you think about my dignity?” A flash of guilt crossed Ethan’s eyes, and his tone softened. “Vivian, I explained it to you. Mia’s situation was sudden—I couldn’t just let her die.” “You’re usually so kind. Why are you being so petty about Mia?” My gaze fell on the collar of his shirt. There, clear as day, was a lipstick mark. The exact same shade as the one Mia was wearing in her Snapchat photo. Ethan followed my gaze and looked down. His expression changed, and he instinctively covered his collar with his hand. “Mia was in so much pain she couldn’t stand. She accidentally smudged it. Don’t overthink this.” “Vivian, after all these years together, won’t you even give me this much trust?” I zipped up my suitcase and dragged it toward the door. Ethan blocked the doorway, his eyes reddening. “Vivian, I was wrong, okay?” “We can have another wedding. Stop making a scene.” I ignored him. Ethan panicked and grabbed my wrist. “I won’t let you leave! If you walk out that door today, don’t expect me to ever coax you back!” “The wedding is already canceled. Starting today, we have nothing to do with each other.” I pulled my suitcase and walked out the door without looking back. A few days later, I bought a villa. Just as I finished settling in, my assistant called. “Miss Sterling, there’s an urgent document for a core company project that needs your signature.” I agreed and drove to Hayes Corporation. This branch was a company I established to help Ethan start his business. I pushed open the general manager’s office door. Mia was sitting in my office chair. She was holding a pink notebook, reading it with great interest. I froze. That was my diary. I strode over and snatched the diary back. “Who gave you permission to touch my things?” Mia jumped in fright, looking aggrieved. “Vivian, don’t be so mean.” “I was just looking around. How was I supposed to know you kept your diary in an unlocked drawer?” At that moment, Ethan walked in from outside carrying two cups of coffee. Seeing me, he froze for a moment, then frowned. “Vivian, what are you getting upset about now? Mia’s still not feeling well. Don’t scare her.” I laughed coldly. “She went through my diary without permission, and instead of stopping her, you blame me?” Ethan was dismissive. “You didn’t lock your diary properly. Mia didn’t do it on purpose.” “Besides, it’s not like there’s anything shameful in your diary.” Mia chimed in from the side. “Exactly, Vivian. And those love letters you wrote in your diary are so corny.” She cleared her throat and recited in a mocking tone. “‘Today Ethan drove twenty miles to buy me cake from the north side of town.’” “‘I feel like the happiest woman in the world. I must stay with Ethan forever.’” She covered her mouth and laughed. “Vivian, you always seem so cold and aloof, but I never knew you were such a desperate simp in private.” “Actually, that cake was bought for me. I didn’t want to eat it, so he brought it back to you.” “You actually treasured it enough to write about it in your diary. Hilarious.” Humiliation flooded through me instantly. Those feelings I once cherished were now being trampled under their feet.

Ethan stood to the side, the corner of his mouth turned up. “Vivian, you wrote it so clearly in your diary—you obviously still love me.” “Stop being stubborn and come home with me. I’ll pretend the wedding thing never happened.” I ignored him, turned to the paper shredder, and without hesitation, fed the diary into it. The diary that recorded all my memories with Ethan was instantly reduced to confetti. Ethan’s face turned livid as he rushed over to confront me. “Vivian Sterling! What are you crazy for!” My tone was cold. “Just disposing of some unnecessary garbage.” Mia suddenly grabbed Ethan’s arm. “Ethan, since Vivian doesn’t want to deal with you, let me take over the core bidding project on the south side for her.” “I promise I’ll do better than her.” The south side project—I had pulled three months of all-nighters and used the Sterling family connections to secure that bidding qualification for Ethan. Ethan nodded without hesitation. “Fine. Mia’s so smart, she’ll definitely handle it.” He turned to look at me, his tone commanding. “Vivian, hand over all the core project materials to Mia.” “Since you want to make a scene, go home and reflect. You don’t need to manage company affairs for now.” I looked at him and found it ridiculous. Without the Sterling family, Ethan was nothing. “Fine. Since you want it so badly, take it.” I picked up the documents on the desk, signed them, and turned to leave. That evening, I had just finished showering when Ethan sent me a text. “Vivian, why didn’t you come to the Hayes family dinner tonight?” “My parents are already very unhappy about what you did. This dinner was meant for you to apologize to them.” I felt speechless and typed back. “We’ve already called off the engagement. I have no obligation to attend your family dinners.” The moment I sent the message, Ethan called. “Vivian, do you have to make things so difficult for me?” “You’re just throwing a tantrum like this to force me to send Mia away, aren’t you?” He sighed on the other end of the phone, his tone softening. “You know the person I love is you, but Mia saved my life years ago.” “Without her, I would’ve died. I can’t be ungrateful.” I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. “Ethan, if you want to repay her, go ahead. Give her your life if you want.” “Just stop harassing me.” I hung up directly and blocked his number and social media accounts. But immediately after, I saw Mia had posted something on Snapchat. She was wearing revealing sleepwear in what used to be my wedding house, with an imperial jade necklace around her neck. “A gift from Ethan—worth millions.” The more I looked at that necklace, the more familiar it seemed. It was a relic my mother left me before she died. I had left in such a rush when I moved out of the new house that I’d forgotten it. Without a word, I immediately drove to Ethan’s place. When I arrived, Mia was sitting on the sofa, live-streaming on her phone. She was wearing my mother’s necklace around her neck, showing it off to the camera. “Everyone, this is genuine imperial jade. My brother specially gave it to me.” I walked over to retrieve the necklace and accidentally knocked her phone out of her hand. “Ah! Vivian, what are you doing!” Mia shrieked and jumped up. “Give me back that necklace!” I pointed at it, my voice furious. Ethan heard the commotion and immediately ran over to protect Mia. “It’s just a necklace. Mia just thought it looked pretty and wore it for a bit.”

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In three years of marriage, I had been punished by Frederick Ashton one hundred times. Every single time was because I went to see my terminally ill brother, Marcus. He said Marcus and I were having an affair, forcing me to kneel in the snow and locking me in the basement. Until that night, when I walked to the bedroom door carrying a glass of warm milk, I found him in bed with his adopted sister, Felicity. “I married Vivian just to cover up our relationship, didn’t I?” It turned out he’d known all along that Marcus and I were innocent. He was simply using my suffering to protect the person he truly cherished. The next day, I handed him divorce papers. He had no idea I possessed evidence of his crimes. Vivian’s POV I was only five minutes late coming home, yet my husband stripped me naked and forced me to kneel in the snow as punishment. The cold wind cut through me like knives as I looked up at Frederick Ashton standing on the steps in his black coat, his gaze sharp as a blade. “There’s nothing between Marcus and me. Why won’t you believe me?” Frederick looked at me coldly, his eyes devoid of anger, only calm. “Kneel here for twelve hours, and I’ll believe you.” Kneeling in the snow at ten degrees below zero for twelve hours would kill me, or at least cripple me for life. Yet I slowly straightened my body. “Understood. I’ll prove my innocence.” I’d always known Frederick had trust issues. In three years of marriage, I’d endured ninety-nine punishments from him-slaps across the face, confinement in the basement… And today was the hundredth time. Every single time was because I had visited Marcus. Marcus, the brother who had raised me from childhood. We weren’t blood-related. Two children who’d grown up together, relying on each other. Marcus treated me as his little sister, and he was my only family. But Frederick still couldn’t accept it. He forbade me from calling Marcus my brother and forced me to cut off contact with him. But Marcus was sick now. Terminal stomach cancer. He was only five years older than me, and when we were children, he’d rather starve himself than let me go without that last piece of bread. I couldn’t abandon him. The snowy ground was damp and freezing. I trembled from the cold. Then I suddenly remembered I hadn’t brought Frederick his nightly glass of warm milk yet. After years of marriage, this habit was carved into my bones. Frederick had once held me close and said, “Without milk, I can’t sleep well at night.” Heating up a glass of milk and then coming back to kneel should be fine, right? So I crawled out of the snow and went to the kitchen. But when I reached the bedroom door carrying the milk, I heard two voices coming from inside. “Being able to hold you while I sleep, this is what I’ve dreamed of.” “Silly girl. Why do you think I married Vivian, if not for this?” My heart clenched. I nearly dropped the glass of milk, then immediately clamped my hand over my mouth. What did I just hear? Frederick was actually sleeping in the same bed with his adopted sister, Felicity Ashton! Just like Marcus and me, Felicity had been adopted by the Ashton family as a child and grew up with Frederick. Frederick was incredibly indulgent toward his sister. Even after our marriage, he’d moved her into his villa, her room separated from ours by just a single wall. I never could have imagined, even in my wildest nightmares, that Frederick and Felicity were involved! I bit down hard on my lip. Then Felicity’s voice came again from inside the room. “What if Vivian discovers us someday?” “She won’t.” Frederick’s voice was decisive. “She’s too busy proving her innocence with Marcus. She doesn’t have time to pay attention to us.” “So you’re deliberately making her suspicious?” “Yes.” Frederick gave a soft laugh. “I’ve always known she and Marcus only have ordinary sibling affection. She’s incredibly naive. I’m the only one in her heart. Otherwise she wouldn’t have cried when I proposed… Besides, given how much she loves me, even if she found out, she’d never leave me.” I felt a metallic sweetness in my throat. My heart felt like it was being stabbed with needles, throbbing with pain. Three years. How many times had I knelt on the ground swearing that Marcus and I were innocent? Even when I stripped naked, Frederick only called me filthy. And now I discovered he’d been doing it deliberately all along! This was too much! Too humiliating! I left the villa and found the nearest law office to draft divorce papers. Afterward, I went to the hospital. Marcus’s business partner and friend, Julian, was just leaving the hospital room. He looked surprised to see me. “Vivian, didn’t you just go home? Why are you back?” “I’m worried about Marcus.” I sniffled and forced a smile. “Julian, don’t worry about me. I’ll just sit here for a while.” “That won’t do. The hallway’s freezing. Here, take this.” Julian handed me a warm cup of coffee, accidentally touching my hand. He immediately frowned. “Why are you so cold?” Without another word, he took off his wool coat and draped it over my shoulders. The sudden warmth made me unable to suppress the ache in my nose any longer. Tears broke through like a dam. In this world, only Marcus cared about me. Only his friend would show me concern! Julian looked flustered when he saw me cry. I quickly wiped away my tears. “Julian, can you help me investigate something?”

Vivian’s POV “As long as you stop crying, anything!” What I wanted to know wasn’t anything else-it was about Frederick and Felicity! Four years ago, Marcus and I had barely managed to work our way through college. To give me a better life, Marcus borrowed money from his friend Julian to start a business. In just one year, Marcus became a rising star in the business world, and my life completely changed along with his. At a gala, I met Frederick Ashton, heir to the Ashton family. He fell in love with me at first sight. After three months of passionate pursuit, we got married. Our married life seemed peaceful on the surface, but I knew almost nothing about Frederick’s past! Soon, Julian’s investigation completely shattered my last shred of hope. It turned out that after the Ashton family adopted Felicity, she and Frederick grew up together. As adults, they fell in love with each other. To be with Felicity, Frederick was even willing to defy his entire family. After a year of deadlock, the Ashton family compromised, but with conditions. Felicity could stay by Frederick’s side, but could never be made public. And Frederick had to marry a “suitable wife” within three months to maintain appearances. And I was the carefully selected cover they chose. How ironic. Frederick constantly accused me of impropriety with Marcus, yet the ones truly betraying our marriage were him and his “sister”! I sat in the hospital corridor all night, occasionally dozing off, only to be jolted awake by nightmares. In my dreams, I returned to the orphanage when I was five years old. A sweet-smiled girl led other children to isolate me, using razor blades to shred my clothes. They surrounded me with mockery, calling me shameless. At the end of the dream, I heard them call her Felicity! I frantically flipped through the documents Julian had given me. Sure enough, I found a small note in the corner: Felicity, before being adopted by the Ashton family, came from Red Rose Orphanage. I bit my lip hard. So the person who bullied me as a child was Felicity. And the one who stole my husband as an adult was still her! “Vivian.” A cold voice suddenly rang out. It was Frederick. He approached step by step, his face dark as he gripped my wrist. “Come with me.” “I’m not going!” I confronted him. Frederick’s eyes flashed dangerously, and his grip tightened, nearly crushing my bones! Just then, the hospital room door opened. Marcus’s pale, weak face appeared in the doorway. “Vivian, what’s wrong?” Frederick lowered his voice threateningly. “Are you sure you want me to punish you here?” No… not in front of Marcus! I squeezed my eyes shut. “Fine, I’ll go with you.” His arm was like a steel clamp as he roughly dragged me and threw me into the restroom. The next second, the faucet was turned on. Frederick grabbed the back of my neck and shoved my face violently into the water! For a full seven minutes, I nearly suffocated. He pulled me up, his voice cold as ice. “This is for leaving without permission last night.” Then he shoved my head into the water again! “This is for sneaking off to see your brother.” When he finally released me, I was soaked through, coughing violently from choking, yet I laughed. “Frederick, why?” His eyes darkened. “What did you say?” “I said why can you see your sister whenever you want, but I can’t see my brother? Who’s the one with the real problem here?!” Frederick seemed to freeze for a moment, his expression softening slightly. But just then, a saccharine voice cut in. “Vivian, you’re getting bolder and bolder. How dare you speak to my brother that way?” Felicity walked over gracefully and intimately linked her arm through Frederick’s. “The servants said she didn’t even kneel for the required time last night. She completely ignored your orders!” Her way of fanning the flames was exactly like when we were children. In that moment, I finally confirmed that Felicity had recognized me long ago. She was doing this deliberately! But before I could speak, Frederick’s slap had already struck me hard!

Vivian’s POV I covered my burning face, tasting blood in my mouth, and collapsed to the ground, all strength leaving my body. Frederick looked at me coldly, signaling two bodyguards to lift me up and roughly drag me toward his sports car. A coarse hemp rope wrapped around my wrists as he said coldly, “This is the price for running away last night. Run behind the car all the way back.” The engine roared and the sports car shot forward! I stumbled a few steps before being dragged to the ground. The rough pavement scraped against my skin. I struggled desperately, but the car was going too fast-I couldn’t stand up at all. Suddenly, a hard brake! Crack! Sharp pain shot through my wrist as I screamed. The car finally stopped. I thought he might soften, but Frederick only untied the rope and bound my other hand. “A broken hand can be set. Pain teaches lessons.” He said it expressionlessly. My heart died completely. “So much sweat. Are you too hot?” Felicity’s sweet voice rang out. “Frederick, why don’t you have her take off a few layers?” Before I could react, my coat was torn off, leaving my chest exposed to the freezing air! I clutched my last piece of clothing desperately, my voice trembling. “Frederick Ashton, must you humiliate me in public?” Felicity was unconcerned. “Don’t worry, there’s no one around in the suburbs.” I stared at Frederick. He suddenly looked away. “…Felicity, she is still my wife. If word gets out, it’s the Ashton family’s reputation that suffers.” Just as I held onto my last shred of hope, he turned back to me with a cold smile. “Keep one piece to cover yourself. Remember, this is my mercy.” The engine roared again. I was dragged once more, my skin torn raw and bloody until I finally fell into darkness. When I woke, I was lying in the villa’s bed. Frederick wasn’t there. Only Felicity sat at the bedside peeling an apple. She leaned close, her smile sweet. “Can you do Frederick a favor?” “What?” She handed me a document. “Just sign this and Frederick can secure that contract. You should know… who’s more important, right?” The moment I saw the contents, all the blood in my body froze. She wanted me to falsely accuse Marcus of long-term sexual assault against his own sister! “Go to hell!!” Rage consumed my reason. I lunged forward and grabbed her throat! The door burst open. Frederick rushed in, yanked me away, and slammed me to the floor! “You bitch! How dare you touch Felicity?!” Felicity burst into tears. “I only asked her to sign, and she…” “Hold down her hand,” Frederick commanded coldly. “Make her sign it!” “No! You can’t!!” The servants pinned me down as the pen scratched across paper-a sound like a knife cutting. I screamed in collapse. “Frederick Ashton! I want a divorce!!” But no one listened. Felicity suddenly vomited blood and fainted. Frederick panicked and scooped her up. “Felicity!” “The apple…” she said weakly, pointing toward the bedside table. “From her room…”

Vivian’s POV I was thrown into the basement. Pitch darkness surrounded me. The damp air made my wounds throb with dull pain. The door opened. Frederick stood before me, looking down from above. “Hand over the antidote.” I moved my broken fingers. “I told you, I didn’t poison anyone. What antidote?” He crouched down and grabbed my chin viciously. “Vivian, you’ve been defying me lately. Is it because of your brother?” Before he finished speaking, his iPad lit up with a video- In a familiar hospital room, Marcus was being held down by men in black, coughing violently, blood staining his blue hospital gown. On his right side, an opened bottle of poison sat quietly. I immediately began to struggle. “Frederick Ashton! What right do you have to touch Marcus? He’s my last living relative!” “Because you touched Felicity!” His eyes were ice-cold and piercing. “Anyone who touches her must die.” He leaned in close. “Will you obediently hand over the antidote, or let Marcus drink that bottle?” Marcus had stomach cancer. Drinking that would be a death sentence. I finally stopped struggling. “…Let him go, and I’ll give you the antidote.” Frederick turned off the video with satisfaction. I slowly stood up. “I don’t have an antidote, but I can pay with my life.” With that, I grabbed scissors and stabbed them toward my heart! In the last second before darkness fell, I saw Frederick rush toward me in horror, my body falling into a trembling embrace. “Vivian!” I heard people talking near my ear. “I’m sorry… I just had food poisoning, but I wrongly accused her of poisoning me…” “Food poisoning makes you vomit blood?” “I don’t know either… maybe I was injured somewhere?” Felicity’s voice choked up. “Are you blaming me? She could have explained herself…” “I don’t blame you.” Frederick frowned. “She deliberately opposed me.” “Don’t blame her anymore.” Felicity took his hand. “Go rest. I’ll take care of her.” “Alright.” I woke again two days later. I threw back the covers, ready to get out of bed. This wasn’t my home. I had to leave. But Felicity blocked my way. “Vivian, I’m sorry!” I pushed past her and kept walking. Would someone like her ever repent? I didn’t believe it. But the next second, her words pinned me in place like nails- “Marcus is dead!” She put on a regretful expression. “That day Frederick ordered them to release him, but unfortunately… after the news about Marcus molesting you spread, reporters stormed the hospital. In the chaos, someone forced the drug down his throat.” She waved her phone. “He only managed to leave you a few words before he died. There wasn’t even time to try to save him.” She added cheerfully, “But he had terminal stomach cancer anyway. He was going to die sooner or later. Don’t be too sad.” All strength instantly drained from my body. Marcus, who had been so spirited just months ago, was now emaciated and being held down. “Vivian, I’m sorry for dragging you down… From now on, even without someone to love you, you must love yourself well.” He smiled as he closed his eyes. Even as the poison burned through his organs, he didn’t cry out in pain once. I played the video on loop, tears splattering on the ground. I knelt there trembling. “I’m the one who dragged you down… It’s always been me dragging you down…” “That’s right, he didn’t have to die.” Felicity suddenly agreed. “So strange. I was the prettiest of all those kids at the orphanage, yet the family chose you.” She lowered her voice. “Do you know why the car that came to take you home had brake failure? That was the price for them abandoning me.” That year, a family came to the orphanage to adopt. They had originally chosen Felicity. But just as they were leaving, the mother noticed me in the corner and changed her mind at the last minute. On the return trip, the brakes failed. The car crashed into a fuel tanker and burst into flames. Marcus and I climbed out the window, but our parents were burned alive inside. It turned out… it was never an accident! My hands trembled. Hatred gnawed at my nerves. I wanted nothing more than to drag her down to hell with me right then! I forwarded the video to my own phone and slapped her hard across the face. “Felicity, I will make you pay.”

Vivian’s POV I was about to step out of the villa when a cold voice suddenly came from behind. “Stop.” I turned around to see Frederick with his arm around Felicity, his fingers gently stroking her cheek, though his gaze fell coldly on me. No need to guess-Felicity must have complained to him. I straightened my spine. “What, here to get even for her? Will you slap me, or make me kneel?” “About your brother, I’m very sorry.” Frederick stared at my pale face, a flash of complicated emotion in his eyes. “But don’t worry, I’ll personally hold a memorial service for him and let him be buried with dignity.” I laughed mockingly. What was this? A slap followed by candy, and everything’s supposed to be fine? Seeing my silence, Frederick seemed to lose patience, coldly dropping one line. “The internet is in an uproar over your brother’s case right now. Don’t go out alone. Tomorrow morning, I’ll take you and Felicity to the memorial together.” I believed him. But the next day, I waited from eight in the morning until eleven-and never saw a trace of Frederick! In the end, I had to take a taxi there myself. When I arrived, I discovered the memorial hall was completely empty! This was his idea of a “dignified burial”? I smiled bitterly. I should have known better than to hold any expectations of him. The eulogy, the moment of silence, kowtowing… I completed every ritual alone. The urn was small, yet holding it felt unbearably heavy, crushing me until I couldn’t breathe. Just as the burial was about to begin, the sound of deafening fireworks suddenly erupted outside. Felicity pushed open the doors and announced loudly to a crowd of reporters, “This is Marcus’s memorial service. Everyone’s welcome to pay their respects!” My heart sank. Before I could react, I was surrounded by a swarm of reporters, countless cameras aimed at my face. “Miss Vivian, Marcus molested you. Why are you still attending his memorial?” “How long did he molest you? When did it start?” “Miss Vivian, don’t you hate Marcus? Or were you a willing participant?” My lips trembled. I couldn’t get a single word out. Marcus was already dead… How could I let him bear such slander even after death? “Enough!” I shouted, cutting them off. I pushed through the reporters and grabbed Felicity by the arm. “My brother never molested me! He was innocent! Felicity Ashton forced me to sign that complaint. Everything was her doing!!” Before I could finish, the belatedly arriving Frederick kicked me in the chest, violently cutting me off. “Gentlemen, today’s events have nothing to do with my sister.” He swept a cold glance across the reporters. “As for the rest, do as you please.” I slammed heavily into the coffin, the urn hitting the ground, ashes scattering everywhere! I screamed hoarsely, ignoring the sharp pain in my chest, desperately trying to gather those ashes. But the reporters paid no attention. Their feet trampled through the ashes, crushing them without care. “Mr. Ashton truly dotes on his sister!” “Having a brother like that must be wonderful! Now look at Marcus-a good person on the surface, but molesting his own sister behind closed doors. Absolute scum!” “Vivian, you have a husband like Mr. Ashton and you don’t cherish him. Instead you have an affair with your brother behind his back. Absolutely shameless!” Their words were like knives, carving into my heart one by one. I looked up at Frederick, only to see him holding Felicity tenderly, asking in a low voice if she was hurt. He was indeed a good brother. But he didn’t deserve to be my husband. Blood dripped onto the ground, mixing with the ashes. I finally couldn’t hold on. My vision went black and I passed out. Before losing consciousness, I seemed to hear Frederick’s panicked roar. “Get away! If anything happens to my wife, none of you will escape!” Was he… actually worried about me?

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In my past life, my name was Alice. I donated 10 million dollars and supported 101 children. But when I died of stomach cancer at 37, not a single one of those 101 children came to visit me. In this life, the first thing I did when I woke up was throw that sponsorship list into the trash. With the money I had prepared to donate, I bought ten houses in one go before property prices went up. Soon, I saw familiar faces on the screen. Those boys and girls I had sponsored were wiping away tears during media interviews: “Miss Alice promised she would support me through college, but now she’s disappeared. I heard she bought 10 houses.” “Now, we can only drop out and find work.” “I don’t hate her, I just feel hurt inside…” “We just want to ask one question: Miss Alice, we’ve always thought of you as our mother. Are you really this heartless?” I turned off the TV with an expressionless face. The moment I opened my phone, countless messages came flooding in. First text: “Ms. Alice, I’m a reporter from City Hotline. Why did you suddenly stop supporting those 101 underprivileged students? Would you be available for an interview?” Second text: “It’s Leah! Why aren’t you answering your phone? You said you’d support me through college!” Third text: “Ms. Alice, as a well-known philanthropist, you suddenly acquired ten properties but let these children drop out to work. Can you live with your conscience?” Fourth, fifth, sixth… My phone kept buzzing non-stop like it was exploding. At the same time, chaotic footsteps sounded outside my door. From the noise, there had to be at least dozens of people gathered at my doorstep. Through the door, those voices couldn’t wait to drill their way in— “Ms. Alice! Come out and say something!” “Why did you stop the support?” “The children are all kneeling at the TV station entrance. Do you know that?” I closed my eyes. In my past life, I was a selfless, altruistic good person. My husband Andrew and I owned a building materials store. We worked from dawn to dusk, carefully budgeting every expense. The money we earned—very little went to our own household, most of it was donated. Over ten years, we donated more than 10 million dollars and supported 101 children in our region. Many of them we had sponsored since elementary school. I promised them they could study without worry, that I would support them through college. They wrote letters saying they would definitely repay us properly in the future. We kept every single letter, taking them out to read when we couldn’t sleep at night. Every time we read them, we’d be moved to tears. Andrew and I had no children. We didn’t expect the kids to repay us—we just hoped they wouldn’t let poverty limit their futures. Later, Andrew died. During a delivery, his truck overturned. He left behind one sentence—”make sure to take good care of the children”—and was gone. I cried my heart out, and before I could recover, I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer. During that year-plus in the hospital, I lay in my bed waiting for those children to come visit me. Not a single one came. I thought they were busy, that their studies were demanding, that travel expenses were high. I didn’t blame them. Later, when my medical funds ran out, I had no choice but to stop the support payments. That’s when the phone started ringing. “Alice, why hasn’t this month’s living allowance arrived yet?” “Alice, you said you’d support me through college. I’m only a freshman in high school and you’re stopping? Aren’t you screwing me over?” “Ms. Alice, I’m John’s parent. You made a promise back then. Now you just stop without warning? What about our child?” The last call came from a girl named Martha. When I was initially selecting children to sponsor, she had knelt before me, tears streaming down her face, calling me “Mom.” On the phone, she said: “Alice, how long will your treatment take? When you’re better, hurry up and get back to work. So many of us kids are waiting for you.” I hung up and burned all the letters I’d kept under my pillow. Later, a reporter exposed my situation and went to interview those children. Reporter: “Alice is very sick. Won’t you go see her?” One child said: “She promised to support me through college. Now she’s lying in a hospital with no money left. What could I do if I went?” Another child said: “She’s so rich, it’s just treating an illness. Besides, our tuition is nothing, right?” Martha smiled innocently at the camera: “Everyone does things with ulterior motives. What she’s after—I won’t say it, but you can probably guess, right?” I turned off the TV. With my remaining money insufficient for treatment, I was discharged and went home to lie in the bed Andrew had slept in, enduring one day after another. The night I died was New Year’s Eve. Outside my window, everything was lively and festive. I stared at the ceiling and said: “If I could do it all over again—” “I would love myself first.” God blessed me. I was truly reborn.

I was reborn at age 33, when Andrew was still alive and our family was still relatively well-off. Defying fate isn’t easy. That afternoon, I almost couldn’t make it out of my apartment complex. A dark mass of people knelt below my building. About a hundred children in school uniforms, holding banners. “Alice, we need you.” “Alice, don’t abandon us.” Kneeling at the very front was Martha. She held a megaphone, crying out tearfully: “Alice, you said you’d support me through college. Have you forgotten?” Beside them stood countless reporters, all their cameras aimed at the window of my apartment. The moment I stepped out of my building, I heard a crying shout— “Alice!” Martha crawled forward on her knees several steps, then threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my legs. “Alice, please don’t abandon us! You said we were your children! You said you’d support us forever!” Her tears smeared across my pants, ice-cold. Behind her, those 100 children all started crying in unison. The sound was deafening. Security guards tried to intervene but were blocked by reporters. All around me, cameras and phone lenses everywhere. Some were livestreaming, some were wiping away tears, and others whispered: “So pitiful. How can this woman be so heartless?” I looked down at Martha. This face was exactly the same as in my past life. In my past life, she also knelt before me like this, crying, saying she would take care of me in my old age. Then when I was dying, she told the camera: “Everyone does things with ulterior motives.” I reached out and peeled her fingers off my pants one by one. “Alice!” She clung desperately. I peeled off the last finger. I crouched down, looking straight into her eyes. “Martha, how old are you now?” She paused: “Seventeen.” “Seventeen.” I nodded. “That’s not young anymore.” I paused, then said word by word: “Everyone does things with ulterior motives. What you’re after now—you don’t have to say it. I can guess.” Her face froze. I stood up, walked around Martha, and moved forward. Behind me, Martha suddenly burst into loud sobs: “Alice! You can’t do this! You promised us! You can’t go back on your word!” Those children all cried along with her, even louder than before. Someone started chanting: “Alice, come back! Alice, come back!” Phone cameras followed me, comments flooding in. “What kind of person is this? So many children kneeling and she won’t even look back?” “Too cold-blooded. I used to like her posts!” “Ten houses and she won’t donate even one. I knew her charity was fake all along!” “Alice, can you sleep at night?” Reporters’ cameras were practically in my face, mouths opening and closing, all asking why I stopped the support. Seeing no way to avoid them, I simply stopped and greeted the reporters openly. “Yes, I’ve decided to stop the sponsorships.” “As for the reason, it’s my private matter. I won’t discuss it here.” “But I believe there are more good people in this world than bad. Like all of you—you could easily take over supporting these children.” “You’re all so kind. I believe that even without me, these children will definitely be able to complete their education successfully, right?” I smiled as I looked at these seemingly kind and righteous people. Seeing me redirect the conversation, the reporters immediately fell silent, no longer daring to press me with questions. I seized the opportunity to push through the reporters and quickly made my way to the complex entrance. A car was parked by the roadside. The window rolled down—it was Andrew.

He looked at me, eyes red. “Alice, I saw everything.” His voice was choked. “Those children… they’re so pitiful. Haven’t we always been supporting them? Why did we suddenly…” I opened the car door and got in. Andrew turned his head: “Didn’t we say before that we don’t expect them to repay us, we just hope they’ll be well…” “I changed the bank card password,” I said. He froze. “What?” “Those two bank cards at home—I changed the passwords.” I looked straight ahead. “If you want to withdraw money, you have to ask me.” “Alice, you—” I sighed: “Andrew, I had a very realistic dream. So realistic that I believe it will definitely happen.” “In the dream, you died, and I got cancer. I lay in the hospital for over a year, and not one of those 101 children came to see me. When I stopped the support payments, they called to pressure me, telling me to hurry up and get better so I could go out and earn money. They even said on TV that I had ulterior motives. In the end, I died alone at home on New Year’s Eve. All by myself.” He was stunned. “Andrew,” I said wearily, “in this life, let’s love ourselves first.” He stared at me with his mouth open, looking confused, unable to speak for a long time. Outside the window, a huge advertising screen was playing the news— “Well-known philanthropist Alice abandons 101 underprivileged children. Children kneel in the street begging her to come back…” Many people on the street were looking up at the news. Someone shouted: “Alice, may you die a terrible death!” Immediately, a chorus of voices echoed the sentiment. I let out a cold laugh. The online harassment spread like wildfire. For several days straight, downstairs was packed with people. “Alice! Get out here!” “Bastard!” “What kind of philanthropist? Just a fraud!” Someone threw eggs at my window, the yolk dripping down the glass. Someone spray-painted my door with red paint: “Fake charity worker, real vampire.” Others held up banners: “Punish this unscrupulous businesswoman, give the children justice!” I looked down through a crack in the curtains and saw Martha still standing at the front of the crowd, tears streaming down her face as she gave interviews. “We never wanted her to give us a lot of money. We just want to know why she suddenly doesn’t want us anymore.” Next to her, a boy cried heartbreakingly: “She bought ten houses but makes us drop out to work! My sister is only in middle school, and she has to work in a factory now!” The crowd exploded. “Call the police! Arrest her!” “People like this should be socially destroyed!” “Smash up her house!” Without warning, a fairly large rock smashed through my window, glass shards nearly hitting my eyes. Andrew stood in front of me, his face pale: “Alice, let’s call the police.” I shook my head. What good would calling the police do? They were just a group of “poor,” “helpless,” “betrayed” children. The next day, things got worse. Someone posted my home address online, along with the location of Andrew’s building materials store. By the time I got there, I heard someone in the crowd shout: “Smash it!” Before the words had faded, a baseball bat had already shattered the glass door. The crowd surged in like a tide. Shelves toppled, tiles broke, the cash register was flipped over. Someone even set fire to the advertising sign at the entrance, black smoke billowing. Honest Andrew rushed in with red eyes trying to stop them, but was pushed to the ground. People spat on him, kicked him with their feet. In that moment, blood rushed to my head. But I didn’t rush forward. Instead, I took a step back, retreating to the edge of the crowd, and opened a livestream on my phone.

I aimed the camera at the fire, at the scene of the store being destroyed, at Andrew being trampled underfoot. The comments scrolled frantically: “What’s happening here?” “This is violence, right?” “Has anyone called the police?” “It’s that Alice woman’s store!” “Beat her good! Make this fake do-gooder lose everything!” I stared at the screen, my voice calm with a slight tremor: “Hello everyone, I’m Alice. What you’re seeing now is my husband being attacked.” “For three days, my front door has been vandalized, my store has been besieged, my husband has been trampled on the ground. And all of this is because I stopped supporting 101 children.” “So far, I’ve supported them for three years, totaling about 2 million dollars, with transfer records for every transaction.” “As for why I suddenly stopped the support, I didn’t want to say this—” I pulled out several pieces of paper from my pocket and unfolded them in front of the camera. It was a medical examination report. Dated five days ago. In the diagnosis section, in black and white: Malignant stomach tumor, mid-stage. In my past life, by the time I learned I had stomach cancer, it was already late-stage. After being reborn, the first thing I did was go to the hospital for a checkup. “I stopped the support because I also need money for treatment. I didn’t want to make this public to avoid worrying everyone. But now, I have no choice but to tell you.” “I also want to continue supporting the children’s education and living expenses, but my body won’t allow it. My husband’s health isn’t good either. Our treatment costs will be a significant, perhaps ongoing expense.” By the end, I was crying openly. The comments went crazy: “Wait… stomach cancer?” “She didn’t say this before!” “If she’s sick, of course she needs money for treatment!” “Those people forced her to donate and pushed her to this?” “Wait, if she’s sick why didn’t she say so? If she had, who would criticize her?” “If she said something, wouldn’t she be accused of playing the victim?” “So for three days she’s been cyberbullied and never explained?” Seeing my goal achieved, I turned off the stream. In the distance, police sirens grew closer, and the situation was finally brought under control. Police began registering identities and taking away the ringleaders. I helped Andrew back home. He was amazed to discover that the children who had been coming every day to make a scene had vanished. Only reporters remained, staking out the area. When they saw us, instead of the previous hostility, they showed concern and sympathy: “Ms. Alice, when did you first learn about your stomach problems?” “Ms. Alice, how are you feeling now? What are your plans for treatment?” Andrew’s mouth hung open in shock. Back home, he hugged me tightly. “Alice, when did you get a checkup? Why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t want you to worry.” I patted his back. “It’s okay. It’s not late-stage. It can be treated.” When I opened my phone again to check the related news, just as I expected, the online opinion that had been one-sidedly criticizing me had reversed. A senior commentator even wrote an in-depth article specifically about this, stating: “Donating is a favor, not donating is within one’s rights.” “Is this really an unscrupulous businesswoman faking charity, or ungrateful children engaging in donation extortion!?” “Let us wait and see. Waiting for the reversal.”

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The day Payton threw a check in my face, I had just found out I was six weeks pregnant. He sneered at me, his arm wrapped around his sweetheart. “Don’t try to manipulate me with some bastard child.” I smiled and said okay. He didn’t know the child was Dr. Julian’s, the man he looked down on the most. He also didn’t know that the divorce agreement he’d just signed didn’t include a settlement fee, but evidence that would destroy his reputation. Now he’s on his knees in the rain, begging me to come back. I touched my belly and looked at my husband beside me. “Honey, who is this guy?” Senna POV At the end of the private hospital corridor, the wind cut through me like ice. I had just tucked the ultrasound report marked “intrauterine early pregnancy” into my bag when I looked up and met a pair of cold, dark eyes. Payton. A man of overwhelming power and influence. Also the man who had kept me for seven years. Standing beside him was Vivian Shaw. The woman he could never forget. The woman whose return from abroad meant I-the “replacement”-had to pack up and leave immediately. Vivian wore an haute couture snow-white coat. The crocodile leather bag in her hand was worth more than all the “selling price” I’d collected over the past seven years. She leaned against Payton’s side like a delicate vine that needed careful tending. “Senna?” Vivian spoke first, her voice timid, though her eyes concealed daggers. “What a coincidence! Why are you at the OB-GYN? Are you not feeling well?” Payton said nothing. He held an unlit cigarette between his fingers, his narrow eyes slightly narrowed as his gaze swept over my hand instinctively protecting my abdomen like an X-ray. I knew that look too well. Scrutiny, amusement, and condescending contempt from someone high above. “Hand it over.” Payton extended his hand, his voice cold. I gripped my bag strap tightly, trying to keep my voice steady. “Mr. Barrett, that’s my privacy.” “Privacy?” Payton let out a scornful laugh and stepped closer. The oppressive presence of someone used to power instantly enveloped me, making it hard to breathe. “Senna, after being with me for seven years, when have you ever had privacy? Has that ten million dollar settlement made you forget what you really are?” He had no patience and gave a look to the bodyguard behind him. The bodyguard immediately stepped forward and, ignoring my struggle, forcibly grabbed my bag and dumped all the documents inside onto the floor. The ultrasound report fluttered down beside Payton’s polished shoes. He bent down to pick it up. “Six weeks pregnant.” When Payton read those words, his tone was terrifyingly calm, but I saw his fingertips turn white as he gripped the paper. “This timing…” Vivian covered her mouth, looking at Payton with feigned surprise. “Payton, it’s only been three months since Senna left you. This child, could it possibly be yours?” She paused, her eyes immediately reddening, looking like she’d suffered a terrible grievance but was forcing herself to be magnanimous. “If it’s yours, then let’s bring Miss Senna back. After all, it’s a life. I don’t mind…” “Who said I’m taking her back?” Payton coldly interrupted her, his dark eyes fixed deadly on me, with incomprehensible violence churning in their depths. “Senna, you’ve got some nerve.” He threw the report in my face. The sharp edge of the paper sliced across my cheek, stinging painfully. “What did I tell you when we broke up? Take the money, get lost, and don’t get any ideas you shouldn’t have. You think you can force my hand with some bastard child? Look at yourself-do you even deserve it!” Bastard child. Those words were like two nails driven hard into my eardrums. Five years ago, I’d been pregnant once before. Back then, I was so happy and wanted to tell him. What I got in return was his cold “get rid of it.” That’s when I understood-a replacement didn’t deserve to have a child. But I wasn’t the timid Senna from five years ago anymore. I bent down to pick up the report, dusted it off, and raised my eyes to meet his chilling gaze. “Mr. Barrett, you’ve misunderstood.” I curved my lips slightly. “This child has absolutely nothing to do with you.” “It’s my husband’s.”

Senna POV Hearing the word “husband,” a crack finally appeared in Payton’s perpetually icy expression. But he quickly recovered that nauseating arrogance. “Husband?” Payton acted like he’d heard the joke of the year. His tongue pressed against his palate as he let out an extremely contemptuous snort. “Senna, you’ve only been away from me for three months and you’re already this desperate to sell yourself? Who’s blind enough to marry you? Or is this another pathetic lie you’ve made up to raise your value?” In his eyes, I was probably always that gold-digger who would do anything for money, who couldn’t survive without him. “That’s none of Mr. Barrett’s concern.” I didn’t want to keep tangling with him and turned to leave. “Stop.” Payton grabbed my wrist, his grip so strong it felt like he might crush my bones. He yanked me back hard, pressing me against the cold wall, his breath carrying a faint smell of tobacco and biting cold. “Six weeks.” He ground his teeth as he counted the days. “That would be the week before we broke up. I was on a business trip that week, and the night I got back… do you want me to help you remember how many times we did it?” “I don’t believe it’s such a coincidence that you could get pregnant with someone else’s child right after.” I endured the severe pain in my wrist, took a deep breath, and met his sinister gaze. “After that night, I took pills.” Payton’s pupils contracted sharply. “Double dosage. Within 24 hours afterward.” I looked into his eyes, enunciating each word. “Because I knew Mr. Barrett hates trouble most of all, and hates illegitimate children even more. How would I dare leave you with that kind of leverage?” “This child was conceived after I left you, with my current husband. We’re very much in love, and our family planning has gone smoothly.” Payton’s expression visibly darkened, black as the sea before a storm. Seeing this, Vivian immediately came over and tugged at Payton’s sleeve, softly persuading him. “Payton, there are too many people here… Since Miss Senna has said this, maybe it’s true? She has a new life now. We should bless her…” “Bless her?” Payton laughed coldly and shook off Vivian’s hand, his gaze still locked deadly on me. “In this circle, who doesn’t know that Senna is Payton Barrett’s castoff? Who would dare marry her? Senna, do you think I’m dead?” He pulled out his phone and directly called his assistant Jake. “Contact the best paternity testing center. Clear it out in half an hour. I want a paternity test.” After hanging up, he looked down at me like a judge pronouncing a death sentence. “Want to prove your innocence? Then let the evidence speak. If the child isn’t mine, I’ll give you another ten million. Roll away to wherever you want. But if it is…” He paused, his eyes becoming extremely dangerous. “Senna, I’ll make you understand the consequences of deceiving me. The child gets aborted, and that so-called ‘husband’ of yours-I’ll make him disappear from this city completely.” I looked at this man I had loved for seven years, and the last bit of warmth remaining in my heart turned completely cold. “Fine.” I agreed readily. “But Mr. Barrett, I hope you keep your word. If it’s proven the child isn’t yours, please never, ever appear in front of me again.” The moment I finished speaking, a clear, gentle yet firm voice suddenly cut through the tense atmosphere. “No need to wait. You can leave right now.” A warm, broad palm wrapped around my shoulder, rescuing me from Payton’s oppression and protecting me behind him. I looked up to see Julian wearing a white coat with a stethoscope hanging from his chest, looking directly at Payton. “Mr. Barrett, threatening a pregnant woman-is this your idea of manners?”

Senna POV Payton clearly hadn’t expected an actual “husband” to appear. He squinted and sized up Julian from head to toe. Julian was extremely handsome-clean and gentle-looking, completely different from Payton’s sharp, aggressive appearance. Standing there, he was like a pool of water that could embrace everything. “A doctor?” Payton glanced at the name on Julian’s ID badge. “Julian? This is the man you found? Doesn’t look like much. Does his monthly salary even cover one of your bags?” This kind of humiliation came easily to Payton. But Julian wasn’t provoked. He just held my trembling hand tightly, his palm’s warmth flowing steadily. “I certainly don’t earn as much as Mr. Barrett.” Julian smiled faintly, his tone neither servile nor overbearing. “But every penny I earn is clean, and I give it all to Senna. Most importantly, I know how to respect people.” “Respect?” Payton acted like he’d heard a joke, his eyes sweeping over me with contempt. “Ask her. During those seven years with me, did she want respect or money?” I felt Julian’s grip on my hand tighten. “What Senna wanted is in the past.” Julian turned sideways, blocking Payton’s view. “Now, she’s my wife and the mother of my child. Since Mr. Barrett wants a test, then let’s test. We’re not afraid.” The testing center. The atmosphere was oppressively suffocating. Vivian sat on the sofa in the waiting area, holding a cup of hot coffee, her eyes darting back and forth between Julian and me. “Dr. Julian is truly magnanimous.” She took a sip of coffee and sighed as if casually. “Miss Senna made quite a name for herself at the Nightfall club. After being with Payton for so many years… most men would find it hard to accept, wouldn’t they?” She was exposing my past. Years ago, to pay off debts, I had indeed worked as a server at a club. That’s where I met Payton. I felt Julian’s body stiffen slightly. Just as I was about to argue, Julian took the cold water cup from my hand and replaced it with his thermos. “Everyone has a past.” Julian didn’t even give Vivian a glance, just lowered his head to unscrew the cap for me. “Before she met me, that was her suffering. After she met me, I only regret I didn’t appear earlier to protect her.” Vivian’s smile froze on her face like a clown who’d swallowed a fly. And in the distance, Payton was playing with an expensive lighter, his expression so dark it seemed ready to drip water. He stared at Julian fixing my hair and feeding me water, the violence in his eyes growing heavier. Three hours. These were probably the longest three hours of Payton’s life. When the testing center door opened and the doctor walked out with the report, Payton almost instantly crushed his cigarette and strode over. He snatched the report, so roughly he tore the corner. I sat in my chair without moving. Julian held my hand, completely steady. Payton stared deadly at the last line of the report. In that moment, I saw his tall frame sway violently. Payton, who made decisive decisions in the business world, now showed an expression resembling “bewildered helplessness.” “How is this possible…” He muttered to himself, his fingers trembling uncontrollably. Vivian leaned over to look and exclaimed. “Paternity excluded? It really isn’t Payton’s?” She turned to look at me, her expression somewhat embarrassed. “Looks like we misunderstood Miss Senna…” Payton suddenly raised his head. Those eyes that were usually full of arrogance were now bloodshot, churning with shock, doubt, and a barely perceptible… panic. “Impossible.” He bit out through clenched teeth, his voice hoarse. “Senna, you bribed the doctor?” “Mr. Barrett.” I stood up and looked at him coldly. “You chose this testing center. It was cleared out just half an hour ago. Do I have the supernatural ability to fake results right under your nose?” “The fact is, this child has nothing to do with you. He’s Julian’s.” I pulled out a bank card from my bag-the “ten million” he’d just mentioned, and the one he’d thrown at me like alms to a beggar on the day we broke up. I walked up to him and gently placed the card on the nearby table. “Here’s your money back. Payton, we’re even.” Walking out of the testing center, the sunlight outside stung my eyes. Payton didn’t chase after me. But I knew he was still inside, staring at that report and losing his mind. Someone as proud and arrogant as him-how could he accept that something he was so certain about had gone wrong? How could he accept that the plaything who, in his view, couldn’t survive without him, had actually started a new life so decisively? “Tired?” Julian opened the car door and protected my head as I got in. “A little.” I leaned back against the seat and let out a long breath. Julian started the car. He didn’t ask about what had just happened, just played a soothing cello piece. “Senna.” After driving for a while, he suddenly spoke. “Mm?” “No matter what he says, don’t take it to heart.” Julian looked straight ahead, his fingers on the steering wheel slender and strong. “You’re wonderful and deserve to be treated well. That child… if he’s a burden to you, we can also…” “No.” I instinctively protected my abdomen and turned to look at him seriously. “Julian, I’m really looking forward to this child. He’s our family.” Julian glanced at me, gentle affection rippling in his eyes. “Alright, then we’ll take good care of him.”

Payton POV Meanwhile, at the testing center. I kicked over the coffee table in front of me. The sound of shattering glass made Vivian scream and shrink into the corner, not daring to speak. “Get out!” I roared. Vivian’s face went deathly pale. She grabbed her bag and fled in panic. In the huge room, only I remained, surrounded by wreckage. I still clutched that report in my hand. “Paternity excluded…” Every word mocked my presumption. I suddenly remembered that night three months ago. Vivian had returned from abroad that day. To welcome her back, I kicked Senna out. What was Senna doing then? She’d been busy in the kitchen all afternoon, making a table full of my favorite dishes. Because it was her birthday. But what did I say when I got home? I said, “Take the money and get lost.” Senna didn’t cry or make a scene. She didn’t even ask “why.” She just quietly went to her room, packed her things, and disappeared into that snowy, windy night. I always thought Senna was pretending. I thought that after a few days, she would come back crying like before, begging me to forgive her, begging me to let her return. After all, she loved me so much-loved me to the point of having no dignity. But now, the report told me that not only had she left, but on that very night, she’d completely severed all possibilities between us. She took pills. Double dosage. How much did she not want to be pregnant with my child? “Mr. Barrett.” Jake pushed the door open timidly. “I just… just checked. That night after Miss Senna left the villa, she did encounter Julian. Julian had just gotten off his night shift and his car had broken down on the roadside. They… should have met then.” “And then?” I was going insane. “Then… a month later, they went to city hall and got married.” I felt like someone had stabbed my heart and was twisting the knife violently. Married? That woman who was as docile as a cat by my side, who said she only wanted to stay with me for the rest of her life, had turned around and married someone else? “Buy that hospital.” I said. “That guy named Julian-I want to make it impossible for him to work.” Jake broke into a cold sweat. “Mr. Barrett, Julian is an expert in the medical field, and… he seems to be the youngest son of the Reed family. He’s just kept a low profile and never joined the family business…” The Reed family. Although not as powerful as the Barrett family, they definitely weren’t people to be trifled with. I suddenly closed my eyes and crumpled the report into a ball. An unprecedented sense of panic swept over me. I seemed to have… really lost Senna.

Senna POV The next two weeks were eerily calm. Payton didn’t appear again. Julian and I began preparing to move. Julian had applied for a transfer to support development in London for three years. The climate there was perfect for pregnancy and would allow me to completely escape the chaos here. The night before the move, Julian went to the hospital to hand over his work. I packed the last of our belongings alone at home. When I opened a drawer, my movements froze. Inside lay a fountain pen. A limited edition Montblanc, with two letters engraved on the cap. This was Payton’s, left here. In the past, when he was in a good mood, he would occasionally stay overnight at my small apartment. He’d used this pen to sign billion-dollar contracts, then casually tossed it aside. I’d treasured it like a precious object. What a pathetic creature I’d been. I laughed self-mockingly, picked up the pen, and threw it into the trash along with all the photos I’d secretly taken of him over the years and the movie ticket stubs I’d saved. The doorbell suddenly rang. Thinking Julian had forgotten his keys, I wiped my hands and went to answer it. “Why are you back so ear-” I opened the door to a wall of alcohol fumes. The man standing outside had his shirt collar wide open, his hair disheveled, his eyes full of bloodshot veins. His whole being radiated decadent madness. Payton. I instinctively tried to close the door. A large hand slammed against the door panel. “Senna.” He called my name, his voice hoarse and thick, with a pleading I’d never heard before. “My stomach hurts.” I froze. For seven years, whenever he complained of a stomachache, I’d drop whatever I was doing. I’d fetch his medicine and brew him honey lemon tea without a second thought. Even in the middle of the night, even when I was running a high fever. “Mr. Barrett has the wrong door.” I said coldly. “If you want tea, find Miss Shaw, or go to a hospital.” “I don’t want hers!” Payton acted like a petulant child, pushing the door open forcefully and squeezing inside. He staggered to the sofa and collapsed heavily, then closed his eyes and whimpered, “I want yours. Only yours works.” Watching this once untouchable man now acting like a mangy dog on my sofa, I felt only absurdity. “Payton, get up.” I walked over and tried to pull him. “This is my home. Please leave! I’m calling the police!” But Payton grabbed my wrist and yanked hard. I cried out and tumbled onto him. He immediately wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his head in my neck, his burning breath spraying on my skin. “Don’t go… Senna, don’t go…” He was trembling. “I know I was wrong.” Payton’s voice was muffled, with a hint of tears. “That paternity report is fake, isn’t it? You’re lying to me, right? There’s no way you could marry someone else… no way you could stop loving me…” “You love me. You love me so much…” He became incoherent, but his grip grew tighter and tighter, as if trying to meld me into his bones. “Let go! Payton, are you insane!” I struggled desperately. My nails scratched his neck, drawing blood. But he acted like he felt no pain. He suddenly flipped over, pinning me on the sofa, staring at me with unfocused yet obsessive eyes. “Abort the child.” He reached out to stroke my face, his tone gentle in a bone-chilling way. “Abort it, and we’ll pretend nothing happened. I’ll marry you, Senna. I’ll make Vivian leave. I’ll make you Mrs. Barrett, okay?” “I was wrong before. I shouldn’t have treated you as a replacement. I just realized now-I can’t live without you…” He moved to kiss me. Disgusting. Overwhelmingly disgusting. I used all my strength and slapped him hard across the face. The slap was crisp and loud, turning Payton’s face to the side. The air fell deathly silent. “Payton, you truly disgust me.” I pointed at the door, trembling, tears streaming down uncontrollably-not from sadness, but from rage and humiliation. “You think everyone covets that Mrs. Barrett position? Too late!!” Payton slowly turned his head. With half his face red and swollen, his eyes gradually became sinister and crazed. “Disgusting?” He laughed coldly-the roar of a cornered beast. “Senna, since you’re so ungrateful, don’t blame me for…” Just then, the door was kicked open. Before Payton could react, a white figure rushed over. Julian’s face was now covered with frost. He grabbed Payton by the collar and punched him hard in the corner of his mouth. “Don’t touch my wife!”

Senna POV Payton had never been hit like this in his life. Julian looked refined and scholarly, but when he fought, he was shockingly brutal. That punch landed squarely on Payton’s cheekbone, splitting his lip and sending blood dripping down his chin onto the beige carpet. “Ugh…” Payton grunted, the alcohol’s numbing effect dispersed somewhat by the intense pain. He struggled to fight back, but his alcohol-weakened body was limp and powerless. Julian pinned him firmly to the ground. “You dare talk about love?” Julian pressed one knee on Payton’s chest, gripping his tie. “Seven years. You treated her like a housekeeper, like a tool for your desires, like Vivian’s substitute. Now that she doesn’t want you, you come pretending to be deeply in love?” “Payton, you don’t love her. You’re just pathetic.” Every word whipped across Payton’s face like a lash. Payton gasped heavily, staring at Julian with sinister eyes, but his lips curved into a bloody smile. “What do you know… I’m Payton Barrett. She’s mine. As long as I want her, she can’t escape…” “Is that so?” Julian laughed coldly and pulled out his phone, taking a picture of Payton’s wretched face. “If this image of Mr. Barrett gets sent to the board of directors or financial media, I wonder how many points the Barrett family’s stock price will drop tomorrow?” Payton’s expression changed instantly. “You wouldn’t dare!” “You can try me.” Julian stood up and methodically straightened his somewhat disheveled cuffs, returning to his refined, elegant demeanor. “Just because I don’t rely on my family doesn’t mean I don’t have family backing. The Reed family may keep a low profile, but destroying one Payton Barrett who only knows how to throw drunken tantrums is well within our capabilities.” Payton’s pupils contracted sharply. “Get out.” Julian pointed at the door, his voice not loud but carrying undeniable authority. “Don’t make me throw you out.” Payton staggered to his feet. He glanced at me, huddled in the corner of the sofa with tear-stained cheeks but resolute eyes. “Senna…” He opened his mouth, his voice hoarse. “You’re just going to watch him treat me like this?” I looked at him coldly. “Mr. Barrett, attempted home invasion and assault. Julian acted in legitimate self-defense. If you still don’t leave, I don’t mind adding another charge.” The last glimmer of light in Payton’s eyes extinguished. He looked at me deeply, that gaze containing too many complex emotions-unwillingness, regret, anger, and a certain shattered despair. Finally, he said nothing. Covering his injured mouth, he staggered out the door. The moment the door closed, all the strength seemed to drain from my body. I collapsed on the sofa. Julian immediately came over and carefully held me in his arms, avoiding my abdomen. “It’s okay, Senna. It’s okay. I’m here.” His embrace was warm, carrying the reassuring scent of disinfectant and mint. I buried myself in his chest and finally let myself cry out loud. That night, we moved out immediately. Actually, there wasn’t much left. We left all the large furniture and only had two suitcases. Julian called a car, and we drove straight to the airport that night and flew to London. As the plane took off, I looked at the brightly lit city below, feeling only relief. Goodbye, Payton. Goodbye to those absurd, humbling seven years.

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