Ethan Harper is the older boy who lives next door to me, four years older than I am. During the hormone-driven teenage years, I accidentally walked in on him pleasuring himself. I have a secret I could never confess: I desperately wanted this man to touch me and…to trail his fingers slowly over my skin, to pull me close until I felt every inch of his heat pressing against me I felt ashamed of all the filthy thoughts filling my head. Not long after, Ethan Harper’s family moved away, and I never saw him again. But on countless nights, when I closed my eyes, his expression of pleasure mixed with pain would flash in my mind, along with the stifled gasps caught in his throat and the musky, sweet scent that hung in the air and made my heart race. I never imagined I would get another chance to see this man who haunted my dreams. In the pitch-black hallway, someone covered my eyes and touched me freely, but his scent and voice had already given him away. Ethan Harper, I am far more obsessed with you than you realize. But I won’t expose you. After all, the best hunters often appear as prey.

The alarm rang three times before it finally pulled me out of that blush-inducing erotic dream. I glanced at my phone: 9:27 a.m. Being late was inevitable. Feeling the sticky wetness beneath me, I sighed in resignation. Since I was already late, I might as well shower before heading to work. Steam filled the bathroom. My fingers brushing over my skin made me shiver, and I couldn’t help sliding them lower. I couldn’t hold back the sounds escaping my mouth. After about fifteen minutes, I stared at my flushed reflection in the mirror, lost in a brief daze, just as my phone rang. “Emily, are you going on that blind date I set up for the day after tomorrow or not? You’re 24 already. Can’t you let your dad and me relax a little? Your Aunt Karen’s daughter is only a year older than you and already has a kid.” Afraid I would refuse like before, the voice on the line softened. “Are you still hung up on little Ethan? With his family, his education, someone that perfect wouldn’t be interested in you. Let go of those thoughts. Dress up nicely the day after tomorrow and go on the date. Mom just wants what’s best for you.” My mind drifted back to that summer afternoon during my freshman year of college. The heat was unbearable, and I was in the mood, so I locked myself in my room to watch some adult videos. At the moment I was about to climax, I moaned Ethan’s name in a haze. I wrote it all down in my diary, including my deepest, most shameful secrets. Then my mom accidentally found it. She called me shameless for a young girl and hurled every ugly word at her own daughter. She even spread it as gossip to others. I felt like I had been stripped naked in public, pointed at like meat on a butcher’s block. How did I feel back then? Ashamed, suicidal, angry that I couldn’t control my mind and body, and heartbroken that my mom shared such a private disgrace. To avoid her bringing it up again, I agreed to the blind date.

When I clocked in at the office, my coworker Sophia pulled me aside. “Emily, where have you been? Listen, we got a new boss who just transferred in. He’s super hot and seems really nice, polite and refined. Just looking at him gives me motivation to work! Too bad you didn’t see him right away.” Sophia and I are both in the planning team. She has a wild imagination and loves exaggerating everything. Any decent-looking guy who isn’t hideous gets labeled a hottie by her. She probably spots about eighty handsome guys a day, so I didn’t take her description seriously. But that afternoon, when I saw the boss she was talking about, I froze. The face I had fantasized about countless times was right in front of me. He seemed to notice my stare and glanced my way, but he didn’t greet me. He didn’t recognize me. Of course, to him I was probably just the little neighbor girl. I tried to comfort myself, making excuses for him, but my heart still ached. The moment I saw him, it felt like a fire ignited inside me, burning all the way until I went to bed. Predictably, I dreamed of him again. In the dream, he used the hand I had once caught him with to stroke my lips, then my neck, my chest, and finally down to my stomach and into the warmth between my legs. He kissed my neck while guiding my hand to his hard, throbbing length. I rubbed the raised veins pulsing with excitement, my face burning. The size was far superior to anything I’d seen in adult videos. My mind went blank; all I wanted was to feel him inside me. I craved being filled by Ethan Harper. I knew it was a dream. I’d had this kind of dream too many times to count. In dreams, I was always bolder than in real life. I leaned down to kiss his erection. His hand pressed on my head as he called my name in the same voice I heard at the office that day. “Emily, suck harder. That’s it, baby. I love you, Emily.” Amid his words of love, I brought Ethan to climax. Ding ding ding. The alarm shattered the fantasy and dragged me back to reality. I lingered in the world with Ethan for a long time before remembering today was the blind date. Everyone has a refractory period after passion. When I was clear-headed, I hated myself for being like this. I showered as usual, put on my new white sundress, and applied subtle, elegant makeup. I have the innocent look that’s popular these days: fair skin, slim, youthful. At 24, people often mistake me for a high schooler. Thinking of what my mom said on the phone. It was probably time to open my heart and start a normal relationship. In the tenth year of using Ethan Harper as my fantasy, I decided to say goodbye to the Ethan in my heart.

The date was set at a cat café. I love cats. Even if we didn’t click, petting cats would keep things from getting too awkward. Then I saw my blind date: a guy in sunglasses, over six feet tall, dressed in black leather like he’d just come off stage at a rock festival. If Ethan was polished and courteous, this guy was the opposite extreme. He looked a bit like a bad boy. He took off his sunglasses and walked straight toward me. Only then could I see his face clearly. Objectively, very handsome, with long fingers and a strong nose. He looked like the type who would be amazing in bed. I nodded politely. “Hi, I’m Emily Harper. Aunt Karen set this up.” “Hey, I’m Jake Reed.” I was a little intimidated by guys who looked tough and unapproachable. But Jake gave off a straightforward, cheerful vibe. He blushed when I looked him in the eye while talking, nervously glancing at the orange tabby rubbing against his feet. Anyone cats like can’t be bad. I had a good impression of Jake. We chatted for a while before heading to a nearby mall for dinner. At the mall, I kept feeling like someone was watching us. I didn’t think much of it. If I saw a couple with our contrasting styles walking together, I’d probably stare too. After dinner, he suggested catching a movie. I agreed. “Anything you want to see?” he asked. “Isn’t there that new zombie flick getting great reviews?” It was super popular, so we only got awkward back-row couple seats in the corner. Jake was on my left. On my right was another couple who started making out the moment the previews began. I felt too shy to ask Jake to switch, so I just hoped their kissing sounds and cheesy lines wouldn’t last the whole film. The theater darkened, and the movie started. Barely ten minutes in, I heard soft whimpering from the girl on my right. She was trying to stay quiet, but I noticed. It was dark, especially in our corner with the sofa blocking the view, so they got bold. I saw the girl crouch between the guy’s legs. From my angle, her shoulders moved rhythmically, and I instantly realized what she was doing. After a while, she straddled him. I could even feel the sofa shaking slightly. Broken, muffled gasps reached my right ear. I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping my hands tightly. The mix of morality and voyeurism made my heart pound. A jolt shot to my core, and I shamefully got aroused. I had no idea what the movie was about because my attention was entirely on the couple next to me. On screen, survivors were being devoured by zombies, with oddly fitting orchestral music playing. In that atmosphere, I heard the girl let out a pitchy moan that blended into the score. No one noticed what they were doing except me. I saw a spurt land on the floor. They finished, but I hadn’t. I desperately needed relief. Then my hand was grabbed, and warm breath brushed my neck. My body stiffened. It was Jake.

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During the Christmas holidays, my wife Chloe insisted that I attend her class reunion. When we arrived at the hotel, the parking lot was filled with luxury cars. Ours, by comparison, looked utterly pathetic. Before we even stepped inside, a whisper of contempt drifted my way: “I just don’t get it. Chloe used to be the a well-known figure in the school at that time. How did she end up marrying a nobody like Alex?” Hearing that, Chloe simply smiled and chatted with her classmates, as if I wasn’t even there. After dinner, Brandon, the former baseball star of our school, walked up to me and grabbed Chloe’s hand. “Alex, I’m very interested in your partner. Name your price. From now on, she’s mine.” Instead of getting angry, I let out a cold laugh. “You two better think this carefully. The cost of divorcing me is far more than you imagine..” I wouldn’t have bothered with this class reunion if Chloe hadn’t begged me to come. Figuring we’d at least spent years together, I took time off work and showed up. Never imagined that during dinner, someone would openly try to poach my wife. What chilled me to the bone even more was that Chloe actually agreed. “Long time no see, your negotiating skills have really improved,” Brandon said, leaning back in his chair, his long fingers toying with his car keys. “The money is my thanks for you looking after Chloe all these years. Think of it as compensation.” “You, of all people, dare to threaten me with jail time? Don’t you know who I am?” Just as I was about to retort, I saw Chloe lean directly into Brandon’s arms. She was wearing a vibrant red dress today, her makeup flawless, but now she looked soft and vulnerable, draped against another man. “Alex, just take the money. It’ll be better for everyone.” A sneer flickered across my face as I watched their close embrace. “Looks like you two planned this all along, didn’t you?” Chloe had called me multiple times recently, urging me to attend this very reunion. It seemed she’d conspired with the school’s most popular guy beforehand, using this opportunity to make me publicly agree to a divorce. No wonder she’d kept me at arm’s length for so long after we got married. Turns out, she had someone else in her heart all along. The moment I spoke, Chloe’s face changed. Her perfectly sculpted brows furrowed. “What nonsense are you talking about! Brandon and I have true love!” “If he hadn’t been forced to go abroad for studies back then, we would have been together ages ago.” I was utterly stunned by her words. The entire school knew Brandon had dumped Chloe back then, and now it was a story of star-crossed lovers? I wasn’t sure why they’d reconnected, but right now, Chloe was legally still my wife. A suffocating anger swelled in my chest. I couldn’t swallow this insult, no matter what. “Chloe, do you even realize the trouble you’re getting into, breaking sacred vows and forcing a divorce?” I stared into her eyes as I spoke, but she couldn’t meet my gaze. Brandon pulled Chloe even closer, adopting a protective stance. “Cut the crap. You’re just upset because you think the money isn’t enough.” “Name your price! I’m loaded!” Facing this once handsome but now smug rich kid, I felt like I was watching a pathetic joke unfold. “Brandon, just a heads-up: if Chloe agrees to this divorce today, you two are going to have some serious problems.” Before I could finish, Chloe snapped, “Stop with the alarmist talk! What can you possibly do to us?” “Since we got married, we barely see each other. Who knows what you’ve been up to outside?” “Frankly, if you hadn’t pursued me back then, you wouldn’t be getting a single cent.” If it weren’t for my unique identity, I would’ve slapped her across the face. Chloe’s words drew peals of laughter from the crowd. “See? I told you, your worth dictates the partner you can get. An inconspicuous man like Alex, with no background, is bound to lose his wife.” “Exactly! He’s dressed so simply, yet he dares to show his face here.” “When it comes to wealth and influence, Brandon is unmatched. He’s generous, and his family has serious connections.” Everyone around us fawned over Brandon, not a single person speaking up for me. In their eyes, I was just a clown for their amusement. These kinds of friends, this kind of reunion… it was better off not attending.

I ignored their snide remarks, ready to get up and leave. But before I could even stand, a hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Going somewhere? Did I say you could leave?” Brandon grinned at me, his eyes full of disdain. “Alex, today you have two choices: either take the money and divorce, or I’ll beat you until you divorce.” “Think it over carefully. Pick one.” Hearing Brandon’s words, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you sure you want me to choose?” Brandon hadn’t yet realized the mess he was making, still basking in his smug triumph. “Of course. As long as you agree to divorce your wife, I promise you a good life for the rest of your days.” I suppressed the fury bubbling inside me and spoke slowly: “I can divorce Chloe, and I don’t want the money, but…” I paused deliberately at that point. “You have to let me make a call first, because the divorce isn’t something I can decide alone.” Brandon roared with laughter when he heard me. “Alex, you really think you’re important, huh? I’m giving you a choice out of courtesy; I’m not negotiating with you.” “No matter who you call, you’re getting divorced today. Understood?” I heard the threat in his voice, but I didn’t care in the slightest. In fact, I found it somewhat amusing. “Didn’t I say? I agree to divorce Chloe.” “But this matter needs approval from those higher up. I can’t decide it myself.” Brandon’s face instantly darkened. He was about to get physical when Chloe held him back. “Darling, let’s be magnanimous. Don’t stoop to his level.” “Let him make his call. My heart’s already set on you anyway. What anyone else says doesn’t matter.” Chloe thought I was just looking for an excuse to keep her, and she looked smug. I was about to retort, but she continued: “Alex, don’t say I didn’t warn you. No matter who you call to persuade me, I am absolutely getting this divorce today.” I believed I had treated Chloe well during our marriage. Every month, I gave her my entire salary. She never worked, never did housework, spending her days shopping and playing cards. Even though we only saw each other once a year, she was still unsatisfied. At this very moment, my last shred of feeling for her vanished completely. “Chloe, don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t trying to persuade you. I just find it utterly disgusting.” “As for you and Brandon, I hope you won’t regret this after I make this call.” “When that time comes, no one will be able to save you.” I had wanted to appeal to our past friendship and talk some sense into her, but clearly, some people don’t appreciate it. Like Brandon, the rich kid beside her. “Alex, you’re still putting on airs in front of me? Who’s going to regret it more!” Brandon tried to continue, but I waved my hand, cutting him off. “Fine. Your words are enough.” With that, I pulled out my phone and dialed my boss’s number.

“Hello, Boss? It’s Alex.” On the other end, my boss’s voice was jovial. “Alex? Why are you calling me now?” “Boss, I have a situation to report.” I quickly explained how Brandon was forcing Chloe and me to divorce at the class reunion. The moment I finished, I heard the sound of a shattering glass on the other end. “Who has the audacity to force you into a divorce?!” Brandon snatched the phone from my hand. “Listen up, whoever you are! I don’t care what your relationship is with Alex. I want his wife, and no one can stop me.” “You’d better stay out of this, or you’ll be in trouble too!” My boss was stunned for a few seconds before speaking. “You’re forcing Alex to divorce?” Brandon, still unaware of who was on the line, remained utterly arrogant. “That’s right, it’s me.” “Across this entire city, there’s nothing Brandon wants that he can’t get.” “A single person? What’s that? I’ve set my sights on her, and who can stop me?” After speaking, he threw my phone to the ground and stomped on it several times. I’d never seen anyone so brazen. “Now that the call’s done, fulfill your promise.” Chloe linked her arm through Brandon’s, and with her other hand, she handed me a divorce agreement. “I’ve got all the paperwork ready. Sign it.” Looking at the stack of documents on the table confirmed my suspicions. Chloe had been cheating on me for a long time. Facing someone like this, I felt no mercy whatsoever. Without hesitation, I signed my name and handed it back to her. Chloe stared at me, surprised. “Alex, what does this mean?” I looked up at her, my voice cold. “What? Wasn’t it you who wanted a divorce from the start?” “Now I’ve granted your wish, signed the papers, and you’re blaming me?” “You should sign it quickly too, before Brandon decides he doesn’t want you either.” Chloe’s face flushed crimson from my retort. “Fine! I’ll sign it! As if anyone cares about you!” She immediately signed the divorce agreement. With that, our five-year marriage finally ended. Seeing her signature, I felt no regret, only a profound sense of relief. “I’ve signed it. She’s yours. Can I go now?” “Wait!” Brandon blocked my path, a sneer on his face. “Your business is done. Now it’s our turn.”

Hearing Brandon’s words, I narrowed my eyes. His face was growing increasingly ugly. “That snitch who got me expelled from school back then? That was you, wasn’t it?” “If it weren’t for you, my dad wouldn’t have sent me abroad, and Chloe wouldn’t have been forced to marry you.” “Alex, do you know, for three whole years abroad, I thought about nothing but getting revenge on that snitch, until Chloe told me the truth.” At this point, Brandon slammed his hand on the table. “Alex! I’ve waited for this day for a long time!” Even with Brandon’s furious outburst, a faint smile remained on my face. “You’re right. I reported you.” “But I don’t regret it. You were useless, constantly getting into fights, even breaking someone’s leg.” “People like you, I’ll report every single time I see them. No hesitation.” Brandon’s expression twisted into a snarl. “Good. I like that arrogance.” “Alex, do you know why I absolutely had to call you back here?” “This isn’t just a regular class reunion. I came for revenge.” Brandon suddenly snapped his fingers. A dozen burly men in black suits stormed into the private room. They looked well-trained. I leaned back in my chair, my fingers lightly tapping the table. “Brandon, this is your last chance. Think again.” “If you lay a hand on me today, the consequences will be more than you can handle.” “Even with all your family’s wealth, it won’t be enough…” The sycophants around us erupted in chatter. “Did you hear that? Alex actually said the Brandon family couldn’t cross him.” “That’s the funniest joke I’ve heard all my life! A nobody challenging Brandon!” “Who is Brandon? One of the city’s richest men. Dealing with him is easier than squashing an ant.” My former classmates quickly took sides, attacking me with their words. They scrambled to curry favor with Brandon. Chloe wasn’t to be outdone. “Alex, what are you shouting about? Look in the mirror and see what kind of pathetic person you are.” “Forget Brandon, anyone here could walk all over you.” I took a deep breath and slowly removed my wedding ring. “Chloe, from this moment on, we have no connection whatsoever.” “As for Brandon, he’s going to pay for his actions today.” Brandon scoffed. “You? You dare say you’ll make me pay?” “Here, I call the shots. Even if I beat you to death today, no one would dare arrest me.” Another roar of laughter filled the room. Looking at those once familiar faces, I felt utterly disappointed. This was their idea of friendship? Seeing my silence, Brandon assumed I was scared and grew even more arrogant. “Today, either get on your knees and apologize to the whole class, and we’ll forget the past.” “Or I’ll have your legs broken, and you’ll crawl out of here.” My gaze sharpened. “Brandon, you keep pushing my boundaries. Do you truly believe you’re invincible?” Brandon didn’t back down; instead, he became even more brazen. “Open your eyes and look at these men behind me. Any one of them could flatten you.” Just then, the private room door swung open. A burly man appeared before everyone. Brandon quickly straightened his collar, a fawning expression on his face as he rushed to greet him. “Marcus, Sir, what brings you here?” Hearing Brandon utter that name, everyone’s face changed drastically. Chloe even cowered in a corner. Only I remained in my seat, my fingers lightly tapping the table. Marcus’s gaze swept across the room, and everyone instantly fell silent. He spoke slowly: “Whose sleek black official sedan is parked out front?” At his words, everyone’s eyes turned to me.

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Every time Liam slept with his assistant, I’d scrawl a number in his diary. He’d ask what it meant, and I’d play it off with a sarcastic smile: “Each mark is a time you broke my heart. When it reaches a hundred, I’ll disappear.” Even when it reached ninety-nine, he didn’t take me seriously. At a hundred, I heard the rhythmic gasps echoing from his CEO office. “Sarah, let’s have a baby, okay?” My hand, poised to knock, fell uselessly to my side, the words crushing me. Back home, I ripped down all our wedding photos, a storm of resentment raging inside me. I grabbed a pen and angrily scrawled in the diary: “Liam, we’re over!” Suddenly, a line of text appeared beneath it: “Who are you? Why are you messing with my diary?” “And what does ‘100’ even mean?” Emotionally charged, I forgot all fear and replied: I’m Chloe. And it’s because you don’t love her. “This ‘100’ represents a hundred times I’ve been disappointed by you. I’m leaving you.” The words on the diary page jumped out, one by one. “You’re Chloe? You’re leaving me?” “No way! How could you be Chloe? She’s standing right next to me now!” “Who are you, really? Why can you appear in my diary?” Three questions popped up one after another, startling me so much I dropped the diary. It took me a full two minutes to calm down. I picked it up, then wrote back: “I am Chloe, a thirty-year-old Chloe.” “And I know you’re seventeen-year-old Liam.” “The future you will betray me. So, seventeen-year-old you, don’t come near me either.” The diary went silent. This magical notebook was something I’d found in the attic a few days ago, while packing my bags. My thirty-year-old husband had been drunk, yelling Sarah’s name for the thousandth time, spewing regrets about marrying me. He claimed if he’d married Sarah back then, he might have had his own child. When I opened the diary, though, I saw pages filled with seventeen-year-old Liam’s affection and unwavering devotion to me. Growing up, thanks to my looks, I always had plenty of guys chasing me. But my parents divorced early, so I never held out hope for love. I’d reject every guy who confessed, “Sorry, I just want to focus on my studies. I’m not interested in dating.” Until I met Liam. Unlike the others, he pursued me relentlessly from middle school all the way through college. Each time I rejected him, he only grew more determined. He even entered dangerous underground car races just to win me a limited-edition watch I liked. Seeing him nearly lose his life was what finally made my heart stir. And when I realized this notebook updated in real-time, I knew it was communicating with thirteen years ago. But then I remembered: two months ago, when I went to see him, I heard the sounds of him and his new assistant getting intimate on the couch in his CEO office. And that assistant was Sarah, our high school classmate, his former next-door neighbor, and childhood friend. In that moment, all our beautiful memories shattered, reduced to cruel reality, a mere illusion. From then on, I stopped communicating with the teenage boy on the other end of the diary. Because I knew, no matter how passionate the love recorded in that diary, it would ultimately lead to betrayal. Just as I was bitterly printing out the divorce papers I’d already prepared, signing my name with a steady hand, ready to follow through on my earlier promise—that if he betrayed me, I’d disappear from his world forever. A harsh tearing sound ripped across the diary page. “No way, I love her!” The pen tip, carrying the boy’s sincere feelings, carved each stroke into the paper, “I’ve liked Chloe for six whole years, how could I betray her?” “You’re lying to me, you can’t be Chloe! Who are you?” “Tell me, are you Sarah?!” Through the diary, I could almost see seventeen-year-old Liam, his face a mix of anger and stubbornness, uttering vows he would inevitably break. Back then, his love was pure and firm. He couldn’t possibly have imagined that thirty-year-old him would become so cruel and heartless. I picked up the pen to reply, but the front door suddenly swung open. The gust of wind flipped the diary page. I calmly closed the diary. Thirty-year-old Liam walked in and started rummaging through cabinets. He used to excitedly leap into my arms every time he came home, nuzzling me like a big, happy puppy. Sometimes I’d push him away, tickled, but he’d only press closer, his bright eyes whispering sweet nothings that made my cheeks flush. Now, his gaze didn’t even linger on me for half a second. After nearly ten minutes of searching, Liam still hadn’t found what he wanted. He finally turned to me, his face filled with irritation. “Chloe, have you seen the heirloom brooch my mom left me?” “Sarah’s pregnant, I need to find the brooch and give it to her. I want it to bless our family of three.” Family of three?! My heart gave a sudden, painful lurch. On our wedding day, he’d personally placed that heirloom brooch into my hand in front of all our guests, asking me to keep it safe. Liam’s brother, Owen, had been clearly displeased. “Brother, Mom’s brooch is meant to be passed down to the mother of your child. Everyone knows Chloe can’t… why would you give it to her?” Thirteen years ago, an accident had left me injured, permanently unable to have children. No one had ever dared to mention it in front of Liam, but on our wedding day, his own brother had pointed it out in public. The atmosphere instantly became excruciatingly awkward. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on me, whispers erupting. I turned my face away in shame, but Liam only held my arm tighter, giving his brother a cold glare before announcing to everyone: “Even if Chloe can’t have children, only she deserves to keep this brooch. She is my only wife, Liam’s wife.” In that moment, I’d thought I’d made the right gamble. For five years of marriage, I had carefully guarded it. But now, I gave a bitter laugh, pulling out the drawer and retrieving the velvet jewelry box. Liam snatched it from me, a wide, delighted grin spreading across his face: “Found it at last! After the baby’s born, I’ll have Sarah put it on them herself.” Only then did he bother to look at me, his eyes filled with undisguised coldness. “My mom said this heirloom only works if the mother of the child puts it on them. Now that Sarah’s carrying my child, the brooch should be with her.” “I’m taking Sarah for a check-up tonight, so I’m heading out. Our anniversary… we can talk about it when I get back.” At the door, he paused, a hint of condescension in his gaze as he glanced at me. “Don’t worry, even if Sarah and I have a child, you’ll legally always be my wife. That won’t change.” His usual game: a slap, then a sugar cube. It had been his go-to move for years. Watching him leave happily, I managed a bitter smile. He called me his wife, yet let another woman carry his child. I opened the diary again. Another line of text had appeared: “Because I waited for your reply, I wasted time and couldn’t get the spot in front of her.” I immediately grabbed our graduation photo. My blood ran cold when I saw it: 17-year-old Liam’s position had shifted. My breath hitched, and my hands started to tremble uncontrollably. Could the Liam on the other end of this diary actually change the future?

Before I could even process it, another line of text quickly appeared in the diary: “If you really are Chloe, then tell me, where did I stand in the graduation photo?” I instantly replied: “You stood to Sarah’s left front.” The diary went silent again. After waiting a minute with no reply, I picked up the pen and, with forceful strokes, wrote: “Liam, please leave my life.” “Why? If you’re really Chloe, don’t you know I like you?” He pressed so hard on that last question mark, the paper almost tore. “Like? Because of your ‘like,’ the day after the graduation photo, I was attacked by people Sarah sent and permanently lost my ability to have children!!” “And thirty-year-old you let her carry your child.” Every word I wrote brought the memories flooding back, clearer than ever. I had tried everything to forget, but countless nights, that agonizing memory would jar me awake, making sleep impossible. It had become my inescapable nightmare. Thirteen years ago, Sarah had begged Liam to stand by her for the photo, but he’d refused. Liam had stood firmly behind me, saying he’d stand with me not just then, but for our wedding photos in the future too. His burning declaration of love had made my ears flush. But a furious Sarah had found a dozen people the next day to ambush me in an alley. Liam, rushing to the scene, had gone pale with terror when he saw my injuries. He’d carried me, who was heavier than him, stumbling frantically towards the hospital like a madman. He’d given a lot of blood to save me. Although I survived, I was severely injured, permanently losing the chance to become a mother. Liam had cried, holding me, tears streaming down his face. He’d sworn a solemn oath that he would marry no one but me, and never let me suffer another ounce of harm. But I never imagined that now, he would cheat on me with Sarah, the very person who had caused me so much harm, and even let her carry his child. “Liam, promise me, if you love me, just leave my life.” “The further away the better! Can you?” “Please, I’m begging you!” Still no reply. I slumped onto the couch with the diary, drifting off to sleep without realizing it. In my dream, I saw seventeen-year-old Liam, running desperately through a dark alley. His face was panicked and anxious. A gust of wind blew a flower pot off the balcony, startling me awake. The night was already deep. Thirty-year-old Liam hadn’t come home all night, not a single call, not even a text. But Sarah’s Ins stories were updated every ten minutes, a full thirty posts. The first one showed Liam pinning the heirloom brooch to her lapel. The second was Liam and her looking through baby name books together. The third showed him pressing his ear to her belly, a look of pure joy on his face as he listened to the baby move. … Each post was flooded with likes and blessings from their friends. “Congrats, Mr. Miller! Finally going to be a dad!” “I told you Mr. Miller wouldn’t stick with Chloe. You guys didn’t believe me.” “How could Chloe be worthy of Mr. Miller? Sarah and Mr. Miller are the perfect match, made for each other.” Liam had liked every single post. Perhaps, deep down, he truly believed it. I closed Ins, then lay back on the couch, feeling lightheaded and drowsy. In my dream, seventeen-year-old Liam finally emerged from the alley. What met his eyes was me, pinned to the ground by several people, and seventeen-year-old Sarah, lunging at me with a knife. “Chloe!” The next second, Liam’s eyes turned red, and he charged forward like a madman. He grabbed a rock from the roadside with all his might and hurled it at the leader. The others swarmed him, hitting him repeatedly. Liam ignored them, clutching the blood-stained rock, using his last ounce of strength to beat back the leader. He screamed at the others, his face contorted in a snarl. “Come on, if you’re not afraid to die!” His reckless fury stunned them, and they fled in disarray. Only when their figures completely vanished from the alley did Liam collapse in front of me, trembling uncontrollably. When our eyes met, he smiled proudly, “Chloe, I told you I’d risk my life for you. Now you believe me, right?” “Liam! I don’t need you!” “Leave me!” I screamed his name, jolting awake, tears streaming down my face. Looking in the mirror, I saw the bulging veins and goosebumps on my skin. I couldn’t tell if it was fear or cold. I looked down at the diary in my arms, my mind a blur, unable to distinguish between dream and memory. Pulling up my shirt, my body suddenly froze. I frantically touched my lower abdomen.

The scar that had been with me for thirteen years was gone. Tears welled up and spilled over. I opened the diary again. Another line of text had appeared, but this time it was shaky and uneven, as if written by someone weak and exhausted. “Chloe, I protected you.” Once my emotions stabilized, I calmly wrote back: “That’s what you were supposed to do.” If not for his love. If not for the love he would inevitably betray. Why would Sarah have targeted me, causing me to lose the ability to bear life as a woman? And thirty-year-old him, now with a child by the very person who harmed me, had wounded me again. The words on the diary appeared haltingly, the strokes unclear, as if writing was a struggle. “Chloe, I’ll do anything for you. Tell me, what else can I do?” Only after seventeen-year-old Liam finished writing the last question mark did I reply: “I already told you, leave my life.” “Disappear completely from my sight. Don’t let your love now become the weapon that harms me in the future.” There was a time when everyone secretly talked about me, but Liam was there, holding my hand firmly, gently mending my broken heart. It was his love that made me fearless against all gossip and strange looks. So when he let go of my hand, and even joined those who criticized me, I was instantly pushed to the brink, even contemplating ending my life. Being hurt by the one you love, it turned out, was a thousand, ten thousand times more painful than any physical disability. You could say, the more he loved me before, the greater the pain he inflicted later. This heart of mine, already shattered by him, refused to beat again. The sound of forceful writing suddenly came through. Each word was pressed so hard, it almost tore through the page. “That’s impossible!” “Chloe, do you know? Every break time, you loved to draw by the window on the third floor of the art building. I’d deliberately take the long way around every day, just to catch a glimpse of you. Just seeing you made me so happy.” “Once, you hurt your hand while drawing. When I heard, I was frantic. I skipped class for the first time to buy you medicine, just so you wouldn’t hurt for one second longer…” “And also…” I cut him off, “I know, I know all of it.” “And another time… I slipped in the bathroom and twisted my ankle. It was you who, blushing, slipped the medicine under the door.” The diary paused for ten seconds before replying: “You know all that? How could you know?” “If you know all that, then why do you say I’ll betray you?” There was one thing he didn’t write, but I knew for sure: he was murmuring to himself, I love you so much, how could I betray you? I could imagine seventeen-year-old Liam’s face now, filled with shock and confusion. “I know these things because the future you told me. You told me everything, piece by piece, and said you regretted doing them.” Liam had said that he should have listened back then, not married a woman who couldn’t give him a “complete family.” He said it led to him suffering years of criticism for nothing. He’d also said he shouldn’t have bothered saving me back then, implying that now I was not only ungrateful but also demanding too much. He always boasted about his “sacrifices,” then did whatever he pleased in our marriage, until now, having a child with someone else. Tears dripped onto the diary, blurring the writing. Fearing I might ruin the diary and prevent changing the past, I hurriedly wiped it away. But I pressed too hard, tearing the page in half. In my panic, I suddenly found myself in a hospital room. In front of me, a seventeen-year-old boy, his abdomen wrapped in thick bandages. His face was pale, his brows furrowed in pain. Seventeen-year-old Liam, one hand clutching the blood-stained bandage, the other struggling to write, was muttering to himself. “Chloe, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you until I make you my wife…” His serious and determined expression made him look like he was undertaking something profoundly important. Just as he finished writing that, the seventeen-year-old Liam seemed to sense something. His hand suddenly stopped. He looked up, and in that instant, his clear, star-like eyes, which had long vanished from my memory, reappeared before me. His slightly dry lips parted. Before he could speak, a shrill phone ring suddenly cut through the air. Looking around, my home was a mess. All thanks to thirty-year-old Liam. The phone ring was piercing. It was thirty-year-old Liam calling, his voice commanding: “Come to the coffee shop downstairs from the office immediately. Sarah and I have something important to tell you in person.” At the same time, several lines of text appeared in the diary. “Please believe me, okay? I would never do that.” “I love you, love you so much that even if you wanted my life, you could have it.” The boy’s adoration was as pure and flawless as fresh snow. He truly believed his vows would become the most beautiful flowers, never to wither as long as he stayed by his beloved’s side. I gripped the pen tightly, my eyes downcast. Fine. If you don’t believe me, then I’ll let thirty-year-old you tell you yourself.

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The student I’d sponsored for three years wanted a summer job, so I casually arranged for her to work at my husband’s company. A few months later, she burst into my office, heavily pregnant, tears streaming down her face as she confronted me: “I always knew you didn’t have good intentions when you sponsored me!” “Now I’m carrying Julian’s baby, and he’s suddenly vanished. Are you hiding him?” Her brother, looking absolutely furious, pointed a finger in my face and yelled: “If it weren’t for your fake kindness, how would my sister have met such a scumbag?” “He knocked her up and thinks he can just ditch her? No way!” “Either pay up, or you get a divorce and she becomes Mrs. Vance. Your call!” The news spread like wildfire, and the online comments were brutal. Everyone called me a pimp, saying I used the guise of charity to find a mistress for my husband. But I just smiled. If she actually managed to get pregnant with my husband’s child, I’d have to patent that. I was grading papers when an enraged man slammed open my office door. “Where’s your husband?! Are you hiding him?” “He got my sister pregnant and thinks he can just walk away? Dream on!” Lily Foster stood behind him, clutching her stomach, her eyes red-rimmed. A girl live-streaming on her phone was with them. I frowned. “Lily, what are you doing here?” Lily’s voice was choked with tears. “Ms. Miller, I’m desperate. Julian has gone completely radio silent, I can’t find him…” “And I have a delicate condition; the doctor said a termination would be too risky…” I leaned back in my chair, watching her calmly. “So? What kind of ‘explanation’ are you looking for today?” Derek Foster sneered. “Two options! Either Julian marries my sister, or you pay! My sister is a Harvard graduate, and your animal of a husband ruined her whole life!” The girl holding the phone immediately chimed in. “And this is Ms. Miller, a supposed educator! Using the pretense of sponsoring a struggling student to pimp her out to her own husband! Lily is so pathetic; she finally managed to escape her impoverished background through sheer academic talent, only to fall into an even worse trap!” The live chat exploded: ‘Seriously? This teacher looks so prim and proper, can’t believe she’s such a monster!’ ‘Right? The girl looks barely out of her teens, her life is over!’ A crowd of curious students had gathered at the office door, their chatter growing louder. I stood up, walked to the water cooler, poured myself a cup of water, and took a sip. “Are you done talking?” Derek was furious. “What’s with your attitude?! My sister is carrying your husband’s child!” “Impossible,” I tossed the paper cup into the trash. “The child in her belly is absolutely not my husband’s.” Lily’s eyes immediately reddened again. “Ms. Miller, I know this is hard for you to accept, but it’s true! That night, Julian got me drunk, and when I woke up… he said he truly liked me…” “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “Julian told you himself that he liked you?” Lily nodded vigorously, pulling a stack of photos from her bag. “These are the proof, Ms. Miller, may God strike me down if I’m lying!” I glanced at the photos. The angles were strategic, but you could clearly see Julian’s profile and Lily snuggled up beside him. The hotel security footage screenshot was clear, showing a specific night three months ago. “The photos are real,” I said. Derek immediately looked triumphant. “Admit it, then! I told you…” “But the child isn’t my husband’s,” I cut him off. “Lily, you and your people leave now, and I’ll pretend today never happened. If you continue to cause a scene, I’m calling the police.”

The girl who was live-streaming immediately shrieked, “We’re the ones who should be calling the police! Ms. Miller, your husband forced a college student and got her pregnant, and you’re an accomplice!” The live chat absolutely blew up: ‘Is this teacher crazy? Caught red-handed and still denying it!’ ‘Where are the school administrators? Why is someone like this still teaching?’ ‘Lily, don’t be scared, tens of thousands of us netizens have your back!’ Several female students watching from the doorway already had tears in their eyes. “Lily is so pathetic! To be handed over to an old man by the teacher she trusted most!” “Seriously, people like her don’t deserve to be teachers!” Lily clutched her stomach, crying so hard she could barely stand. A wave of bitterness washed over me. Three years ago, I was traveling in a remote fishing village. I found Lily’s parents trying to marry her off to a fifty-something bachelor right before her college entrance exams, desperate to secure funds for the family. She knelt on the ground, clinging to me, begging, “Teacher, I want to study, please help me…” My heart softened. I not only stopped the forced marriage on the spot but also promised to help her through college. She was incredibly bright, getting into Harvard. The day she got her acceptance letter, she called me, crying, “Ms. Miller, I’ll study hard and repay you someday.” I felt so proud then. This summer, she said she wanted to earn her own living expenses. After some thought, I arranged a summer job for her at my husband’s company. I thought I was helping her. Now it seems I was digging my own grave! Seeing my silence, Lily looked up, biting her lip. “Ms. Miller, I know you and Julian have a strong relationship, but my baby is innocent…” Derek immediately interrupted, “Lily, you’re just too soft-hearted! Even if that scumbag is willing to divorce this old woman and marry you, you still need to demand a million in emotional damages!” I smiled, raising an eyebrow. “A million? Lily, you honestly think you’re worth that much?” The surrounding students gasped. “Is this teacher even human? That’s disgusting!” “Seriously! How vicious! I hope her own daughter gets treated like this someday!” “People like her shouldn’t even have kids!” Lily’s face went white, and she almost stumbled. The girl live-streaming quickly steadied her, crying into the camera, “Everyone saw that! This woman doesn’t even treat Lily like a human being!” Derek exploded in rage, grabbing the water cup from my desk, ready to smash it. I looked at him coldly. “Try it. Intentional damage to property, disturbing the peace, that’ll get you a few nights in lockup.” His hand froze mid-air. “And you,” I swept my gaze over the girl live-streaming. “Broadcasting in an office without permission, invading personal privacy. Do you want me to call security right now and get you a major disciplinary record?” The girl’s face changed. Seeing this, Lily cried even harder. “Ms. Miller, how can you be like this? I came to you because I had nowhere else to go. If Julian would just take responsibility, I wouldn’t have bothered you…” “Responsibility?” I stood up. “Responsibility for what? For something that never happened?” I walked up to her, staring into her eyes. “Lily, put your hand on your heart and tell me, is the child in your belly truly Julian’s?” Her eyes flickered for a split second, then became resolute. “Of course, it’s his!” “Really?” I smiled. “Then tell me, that night, what color underwear was Julian wearing?”

The office fell into a sudden silence. The live chat froze for a moment. Lily froze, her mouth agape, unable to utter a sound for a long time. “What? Don’t remember?” I pressed. “Or rather, you never even saw?” “I was drunk then…” she stammered. “Drunk, but you remember him forcing you?” I continued to question. “Drunk, but you’re certain the child is his?” Derek exploded. “Elara! Don’t you dare try to change the subject! The evidence is right here, and you’re still trying to argue?” “A few blurry photos are enough to convict someone?” I sneered. “So, can I just take a few random photos of you with another woman and accuse you of assault?” “You!” “And,” I cut him off, “how did you get the hotel security footage? Do hotels just hand out surveillance to strangers?” Derek was speechless. Lily quickly explained, “My roommate knows someone who helped me…” “Oh?” I looked at her roommate. “Does your family own a hotel? Or do you know the hotel owner?” The girl stammered, “My cousin works there…” “What a coincidence?” I smiled. “Your cousin just happens to work at the exact hotel where Julian supposedly forced Lily? Just happens to be able to get the footage? Just happens to be willing to risk breaking the law to give you screenshots of the surveillance?” The mood in the live chat began to shift: ‘That actually makes sense…’ ‘Yeah, you can’t just get hotel footage, right?’ ‘Exactly, if it was really assault, why didn’t they call the police immediately?’ Just then, Lily suddenly clutched her stomach and crouched down. “My stomach hurts so bad…” “Lily!” her roommate exclaimed. “This is too much! This old woman is definitely trying to provoke you on purpose! She’s jealous you’re having her husband’s baby!” Derek also pointed a finger in my face, shouting, “Elara! If anything happens to my sister or the baby, I’m coming after you!” I watched their performance with cold eyes. “Do you need me to call 911 for you?” Lily was curled up on the floor, tears streaming down her face. “Ms. Miller, why are you pressuring me like this? I just want justice…” “Justice?” I scoffed, finding it incredibly ironic. “Lily, that’s what you said when you knelt in the mud begging me for sponsorship. You said you wanted to study, you wanted a just life.” “Now I’ve given you an education, given you a chance to change your destiny, and this is how you repay me?” Her eyes darted away, afraid to look at me. “Miller! Don’t you dare try to emotionally manipulate us!” Derek roared. “So what if you sponsored her? Does that give your husband the right to abuse my sister?” I stood up. “Alright, I’ll say this one last time. First, Julian would never force anyone. Second, the child in your belly is absolutely not his!” “Third, if you continue to cause a scene here, I will immediately call the police. Charges of defamation and false accusation are not minor.” The office fell silent. The live chat comments scrolled wildly: ‘This teacher is so fierce! Her logic is super clear!’ ‘Yeah, she sounds incredibly confident!’ ‘Could there be a hidden truth to this? Maybe it’s a scam?’ Just then, Dean Peterson squeezed through the crowd and rushed in. “What’s going on?!” Derek latched onto him like a lifeline. “Dean Peterson, perfect timing! This Elara, her husband assaulted my sister, she’s over four months pregnant now, and they’re denying everything and even accusing my sister of extortion!”

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My boyfriend has a one-of-a-kind talent. He can craft dolls that look exactly like real people. A five-foot-three doll, dressed in an exquisite gown, With flawless makeup, incredibly beautiful. Displayed in a glittering glass case, it shimmered. I leaned in closer and realized it looked like a real person… Do you know how those dolls in fancy dresses at the exhibition are made? They’re not plastic. They’re made from the bodies of young girls. And I own one of these lifelike dolls. Later, I saw many more in my boyfriend’s exhibition hall. One day, while we were intimate, my boyfriend eagerly showed me how he created these “Barbie dolls.” As I was completely lost in pleasure, my boyfriend pulled a ribbon he’d carefully prepared from the nightstand. Slowly, he wrapped it around my neck, his fingers tightening, tightening, and tightening again… Watching me gasp at the brink of death, he spoke, his voice trembling with excitement. “Chloe, you’ve always been curious about how I make my dolls so perfect, haven’t you? Well, I’ll tell you now!” “This is how it’s done—they die in ecstasy.” “That mix of excitement and pain stays etched on their faces forever.” “That’s how you make the most captivating dolls.” “To set them, you have to work while their bodies are still soft.” “You pour glue over their entire skin,” “Then meticulously apply the simulated skin, piece by piece.” “Add delicate makeup,” “Dress them in luxurious gowns and display them in glass cases.” “That way, countless people can truly appreciate their beauty.” “But my Chloe, you’re naturally stunning,” “The most exquisite girl I’ve seen in years.” “You’ll be my most perfect masterpiece…” My boyfriend recounted this, his face alight with excitement as he watched my face slowly turn pale.

My boyfriend, Julian, was a toy restorer. Thirty years old this year, his hands were incredibly skilled. No matter how severely damaged a doll was, Julian could fix it quickly. Julian and I connected over dolls… I’ve been a loyal Barbie fan since childhood, obsessed with collecting princess Barbies. Especially on my twenty-third birthday, I unexpectedly received a very unique doll. Her touch felt just like real skin, incredibly pleasant. I paid a hefty price to get her, Taking meticulous care of her every day, afraid of even a scratch. But an accident still happened! My little niece, Lily, snuck into my room and knocked over my Barbie. My doll’s edges chipped in several places. Frustrated, I had no choice but to ask around for someone to fix her. Seeing me gloomy all the time, my good friend Stella recommended a toy restorer, Julian. “Chloe, I’m telling you, he’s amazing! All his customers rave about him.” “Seriously, just try him. You’ll be satisfied.” “We’ll see,” I replied dismissively. But I didn’t take Stella’s words seriously at all. After several renowned restorers examined my doll and shook their heads helplessly, I finally decided to follow Stella’s advice and visit the restorer she recommended. That was the first time I met Julian. He truly stunned me at first sight. Delicate gold-rimmed glasses, fair skin, long, slender fingers – he looked like a refined young gentleman. “Can he really do it? He doesn’t look like he can!” Stella subtly nudged me with her elbow, signaling me to keep my voice down. Just as I looked up, I saw Julian staring directly at me, his gaze eerie and sending shivers down my spine. My scalp tightened, and I could only manage an awkward smile, ducking behind my best friend. “Hello, can I help you?” Julian asked. Seeing me hesitate, Stella spoke up and started chatting with him. “Hello, my friend’s Barbie broke, and she was wondering if you could fix it.” After Julian confirmed he could, I left the Barbie at his studio. When I went to pick up my Barbie princess that weekend, I was utterly shocked. I couldn’t believe Julian’s skill was truly incredible. All the chipped edges were perfectly repaired. Even tiny scratches were gone. I was amazed, showering him with praise, thinking Stella really hadn’t lied. Julian seemed a bit shy; he just gave me a bashful smile at my compliments and didn’t say anything more. But when I got home, I noticed something: my doll seemed… strange. Her skin felt just like human skin. I asked Julian about it, and he said it was his special technique, a method he used specifically to earn money! Seeing my intense interest, he invited me to his exhibition that weekend. But I never imagined that this outing would lead me to discover something truly astonishing…

After Julian’s invitation, I decided to visit his place. Julian asked for my address and drove to my house to pick me up. He was so enthusiastic, I agreed. Julian drove me to a run-down part of town, tucked away in a corner on the west side. Looking at the dilapidated houses, I felt a pang of regret. It seemed so remote. And Julian and I had only met once. A hint of fear began to creep in. But when I stepped inside the exhibition hall, I dismissed my fears. It was absolutely worth the trip! Julian led me into his doll exhibition, and my jaw nearly dropped. The small room was filled with exquisitely dressed, life-sized dolls. They were displayed in glass cases along both walls, looking just like real people. I couldn’t resist reaching out to touch one. The sensation was exactly like real human skin. I couldn’t help but exclaim. “This is incredible! It’s exactly like a real person. I’ve never felt anything so lifelike. What material is this made of?” Seeing my shocked expression, Julian smiled mysteriously, then leaned close to my ear and whispered. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? It’s made from human skin! Hehehe, it’s fresh skin I peeled off women!” Warm, moist air sprayed onto my ear, combined with Julian’s somewhat serious face, immediately gave me goosebumps all over. Seeing that I was genuinely startled, Julian burst into laughter. “Didn’t scare you, did I? This is simulated skin I imported from Japan. I was just teasing you.” Oh, so that was it. I really had been scared. I let out a long sigh of relief. I meticulously admired every doll in the hall. Each one was truly unique. Different ages, varying eye colors, distinct skin textures… Just like categories of people: innocent college girls, sultry young women, sophisticated housewives. Everything imaginable was there, satisfying every aesthetic preference. But I was particularly drawn to a doll in a corner glass case. She was different from all the others. Not only did her skin look human, but her expression of sorrow was also incredibly lifelike. A vividly realistic look, her eyes brimming with unshed tears—it was simply captivating. The most astonishing thing was the continuous stream of tears flowing from her eyes, as if a real woman were suffering some intense pain…

Seeing my interest, Julian offered to give me one of the dolls he had made. “Pick one. It’s rare to find someone with the same passion as me! Let’s be friends.” I was overjoyed. So, I hesitantly pointed to the “lifelike” crying doll. Julian chuckled, teasingly. “You certainly don’t hold back, picking the most ‘spirited’ one in our shop.” I thought he wouldn’t part with it, but to my surprise, he readily gave me the doll. Seeing my incredulous expression, Julian’s voice, full of amusement, reached my ears again. “It’s rare to find someone with shared interests. It’s just a doll, no big deal. Besides, I’ll have an even better one soon.” He said this while looking at me, as if he was calculating something. That evening, he even personally delivered the doll to my home. But on the very first night the doll was in my house, I noticed something wasn’t right. I kept feeling an unseen gaze constantly following me, as if my every move was being monitored. But I live alone. If I had to pinpoint it, the only other presence would be the doll displayed in the living room cabinet. Half-asleep in the middle of the night, I suddenly heard a woman’s voice coming from above me. “Take me home! It’s so cold…” The female voice kept repeating. I got out of bed, but I searched every corner of the house and found nothing amiss. “Ahhh! Help me, no, no…” The woman’s voice suddenly reappeared. Goosebumps erupted all over my body, and drops of sweat trickled down my forehead. I fumbled in the dark, following the woman’s voice, And unknowingly, I walked into a room with mirrors on all four sides. The mirror in front of me showed a man and a woman entangled in a struggle. The man was thrusting vigorously over the woman, heavy gasps continuously escaping his lips. Throughout the silent room, the woman’s moans — a mix of pleasure and pain — echoed. It made me blush intensely, wishing I could leave immediately. Just then, the scene shifted. The man suddenly pulled out a black ribbon and wrapped it around the woman’s neck. Slowly tightening it, the woman whimpered and struggled, but it was useless. I wanted to warn the woman, but I found I couldn’t make a sound. I watched, wide-eyed, as the man tightened his grip, and the woman gradually stopped moving. At that moment, a terrifying scene unfolded. The man suddenly turned his head, grinning at me. Recognizing his face, I gasped, covering my mouth in shock, but still couldn’t stop myself from screaming. “Ah!” I couldn’t control my scream. Then I realized it was just a dream. I gasped for air, my heart still pounding. The dream felt so real, as if it had actually happened. I put on my shoes and got out of bed, ready to get some water. But when I looked up, I saw the crying doll standing right beside my bed. Her eyes stared directly at me, looking both terrifying and eerie. And around her neck hung a black ribbon… But how could she be here? I distinctly remembered placing her in the glass case in the living room… After a moment of thought, I shook my head, dismissing the impractical ideas from my mind. Maybe I’d just intended to put the doll in the living room display, but hadn’t actually moved it. I certainly had a history of doing silly things like that!

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Lately, my social media feed has been flooded with breast cancer awareness videos. Maybe it was just in my head, but I actually started feeling a faint ache in my chest. Being the cautious person I am, and to nip any potential issues in the bud, I immediately booked an appointment with a breast specialist. I chose the most expensive top specialist, with a $75 consultation fee. I figured the higher the fee, the more reputable the doctor. But when I arrived at the hospital, I found out it was a male doctor… At 8 AM, the breast clinic at Metropolitan General Hospital was packed. Other exam rooms had just a few stragglers, but outside my doctor’s door, a massive queue had formed. It seemed people’s disposable income had really increased. So many were willing to pay $75 for a consultation, and most of them were young women. These women were incredibly cheerful, looking less like patients and more like fans at a meet-and-greet. The women coming out of the exam room were strange too; their faces were flushed with an odd, rosy glow, like ripe peaches. What was going on? Was this some new medical procedure I didn’t know about? “I’ve been refreshing the hospital app since midnight. Persistence pays off—I finally got an appointment with Dr. Julian!” “My sister highly recommended him. She said Dr. Julian’s technique is amazing; after he examines you, you feel like you’re floating on air. I wonder if it’s true…” “It’s true. You’ll see once you try it. Besides, looking at Dr. Julian’s handsome face, even the worst symptoms just fade away.” … I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the loud chatter of the two women ahead of me was impossible to ignore. So… Dr. Julian was a man? When I booked, I only paid attention to which doctor was most expensive; I didn’t check the details page. Seriously! I was here for a medical check-up, not to gawk at some guy. What were these women even thinking? And having a male stranger examine my chest felt incredibly awkward! I decided to sneak out and cancel the appointment before my name was called. But before I could leave, the exam room’s electronic prompt chimed. “Chloe Thompson, please come in.” Well, there went my $75 down the drain. Nervously, I knocked and entered. Inside, a man in a white coat sat behind a desk. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and was looking down, writing something. From my angle, I couldn’t clearly see his face. But his hair was thick and dark, and I couldn’t help but think he probably wasn’t a very skilled doctor. “Excuse me, Dr. Julian, I think I booked the wrong appointment. Would it be possible for you to—” “What?” He frowned, looking up and cutting me off. A striking, handsome face met my gaze. In that instant, my heart pounded, and I held my breath. Do you believe in love at first sight?

The words I’d prepared vanished the moment he looked up. I shook my head, dumbfounded. Wrong appointment? No, this was my fate! Dr. Julian asked me some routine questions, which I answered honestly. “Do you have a boyfriend?” “No.” His usually serious and professional expression seemed to soften when he heard my answer. At twenty-seven, this was the first time a man had spoken such direct words to me—especially one as handsome as him, exactly my type. “A-all of it?” I stammered, a blush creeping up my neck. “Including my bra?” “Yes.” I’d never been to a breast specialist before, so I didn’t know if this was normal. But his words sent a shiver through me, making my heart race and my hands tremble slightly. In front of him, I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, one button at a time, revealing the smooth, pale skin underneath. “Keep going.” Dr. Julian’s voice was low and calm, but his intense gaze never left my body. Maybe I was too nervous, but the bra that usually came off easily now seemed stuck. The atmosphere grew awkward. Dr. Julian crossed his arms, wearing an expression that seemed to say, “I’ve seen this before.” I gave up struggling and turned my back to him. “The clasp in the back seems stuck, and I can’t reach it. Dr. Julian, could you help me?” There was a brief silence in the exam room. Then, a pair of hands touched my back—cool, steady hands that quickly found the clasp. The familiar tightening, then loosening. I knew the clasp of my bra had been undone. I expected Dr. Julian to step back politely, but instead, he gently pulled me closer and slipped the bra off! “Ah!” His movements were so quick, I gasped and instinctively covered myself. “How am I supposed to examine you like that? Put your hands down and lie on the exam table.” Dr. Julian’s tone was completely professional, as casual as if he were discussing the weather. The more nonchalant he was, the more I felt like I was overreacting—completely missing the faint smirk on Julian’s lips.

I lay on the exam table, my hands nervously fidgeting with my skirt. The exam room was dimly lit, and I stared at the ceiling, my heart racing. The soft thud of footsteps grew closer, and I squeezed my eyes shut, too embarrassed to look at Dr. Julian. When you can’t see, your senses of touch and hearing become incredibly sharp. I heard a rustling sound beside me, then a pair of hands gently cupped my breast. I could feel his fingers—long, skilled, with a slight coolness that was surprisingly reassuring. Dr. Julian suddenly pressed down firmly, catching me off guard, and I winced in pain. “Ah—” “Don’t move. This could be hyperplasia. Let me check again.” His voice was colder than his touch. I immediately tensed up, not daring to move. I wondered if I was imagining things, but it felt like Julian was deliberately teasing me. His fingers seemed to dance across my skin—sometimes light, sometimes firm—sending shivers down my spine. The sensation was so intense that I had to bite my lip to keep from making any embarrassing sounds. I endured it, torn between discomfort and something else, just wanting the exam to end. Just when I thought I was about to give up entirely, Julian’s hands stilled. I opened my eyes and saw him backlit, slowly wiping his hands with an alcohol wipe. “Dr. Julian, is that all?” Julian paused, then leaned in suddenly, his voice low and teasing: “Are you saying you want me to continue?” His hot breath on my neck sent a shiver down my spine. I shook my head frantically, pushing him away and scrambling behind the privacy screen. He had such a handsome face, but why did he keep saying such suggestive things? “Dr. Julian, what’s my diagnosis? Is it serious?” Julian was typing on his computer. Without looking up, he said, “The exam seems fine. Go get an X-ray, then come back.” “Let’s exchange SnapChat IDs,” he called as I stood to leave. “It’s my personal account. You can message me directly if you have questions.” Julian’s SnapChat profile picture was a knitted flower, which didn’t quite match his image—it was actually kind of cute. The flower felt oddly familiar, but before I could think about it, the next patient knocked and entered, so I had to say goodbye to Dr. Julian. While waiting for the X-ray results, I received a call from my landlady, Mrs. Hayes. The moment I answered, her uncontrollable sobs filled my ear: “Chloe, dear, where are you? Can we meet up now?” Mrs. Hayes was a sophisticated middle-aged woman, always composed and rarely showing vulnerability. Seeing her like this, I didn’t even wait for my results. I quickly left the hospital and rushed to meet her. But I never expected to find my belongings scattered all over the hallway when I got home. The front door was wide open, and inside, people were roughly throwing my things out. My blood pressure spiked. My vision blurred, and I almost fainted on the spot. What was going on? Had my home been ransacked by robbers?

The men moving furniture inside were all burly and strong; there was no way I, a small woman, could confront them alone. Just as I pulled out my phone to call the police, Mrs. Hayes emerged from the elevator. “Oh, Chloe…” The tear stains on her face were still wet, and two dark circles under her eyes were prominent. She looked utterly distraught. “Mrs. Hayes, you’re here just in time. What’s going on?” Through Mrs. Hayes’s sobs, I slowly pieced together the story. Her husband had been in a car accident and needed surgery. The medical bills were astronomical, forcing her to sell her cars and properties. And the apartment I was renting just happened to have a buyer… “Mrs. Hayes, I deeply sympathize with your situation, but shouldn’t you have told me in advance? Now my things are scattered everywhere, my luggage is tossed out like trash, and it’s already so late. Where am I supposed to go?” “This is indeed my fault, Chloe. You know I haven’t raised your rent all this time. If I hadn’t been truly desperate, I wouldn’t have sold this apartment. But the buyer is in a hurry, and I desperately need the money.” Mrs. Hayes started crying again, lamenting her misfortune. Then she took my hand, her voice pleading: “Chloe, I remember your family lives nearby, right? Why don’t you go home for now? I’ll refund the rest of your rent.” There was no point arguing. I could only accept my fate. By the time I left the building, dragging two suitcases, it was completely dark. I felt like a stray cat, with nowhere to go. Of course, I could go back to my parents’ place, but every time we meet, they lecture me about being a freelancer—unstable job, no boyfriend, the whole list. Going home would just lead to another argument, so I decided to find a hotel for the night. To make matters worse, when I tried to check into a hotel, I realized I couldn’t find my ID. At the same time, a SnapChat message popped up on my phone. [Julian: I just checked the system. Your test results are in. Why haven’t you come back?] A patient’s always wary of a doctor’s sudden concern, and I was no exception. He was contacting me this late. Could it be that I had some serious illness?! I shakily called Julian on FaceTime. He answered immediately. “Dr. Julian, I had an emergency this afternoon and couldn’t wait for the report. Are you contacting me because the results aren’t good?” “Are you home right now?” My heart sank. How serious was this? He was asking if I was home—was he going to admit me immediately? “I’m at a hotel. Do I need to come back to the hospital now?” “Which hotel are you at? I’ll pick you up.” Julian’s tone sounded urgent. Fearing the worst, I immediately told him the address. Less than half an hour later, the hotel room door opened, and Julian walked in, bringing a gust of cool air with him. My anxious heart unexpectedly calmed the moment I saw him. He exhaled slowly, walking towards me. He took my suitcases and said softly: “Coming with me?” Wow, he was handsome! I was completely charmed, my mind blank. I nodded and followed him. When I came to my senses, I was already sitting in the passenger seat of his car. Julian asked why I was stranded. I explained what had happened. He listened quietly, his eyes fixed on me. “So, do you want to stay at my place?” “?” Perhaps seeing the guarded look in my eyes, Julian quickly added: “My house is big, with empty rooms. You can stay until you find a new place. And with your health situation, it’ll be easier if I’m nearby.” He was just being a good doctor, and here I was, overthinking it! Besides, what was there to worry about? If Julian and I lived together, he’d be the one at a disadvantage. “Thank you, Dr. Julian. That’s very kind of you.” I was worried about my health and asked Julian several times about the test results during the drive. He always seemed evasive, which made me uneasy. Just as I was about to burst into tears from overthinking, he finally said: “Don’t worry. The results show a bit of hyperplasia, nothing serious. I can just massage it daily, and it’ll clear up.” At the time, I had no idea that his “massages” would change our relationship forever…

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After work. The stunning woman I’d seen earlier that day stopped me, pouring out a heartfelt confession. I was just a cook, covered in grease, not making much money. I just thought it was a joke. Who knew she’d show up at the restaurant every single day, waiting for me? “Leo, if you don’t agree, I’m not leaving today!” I was taken aback. “But don’t you have a partner? And aren’t you still breastfeeding?” The woman in front of me was Chloe. Just like her name, she always carried a subtle, alluring scent. But thanks to my profession, my nose was incredibly keen. Even amidst the rich aromas of the restaurant’s food, I could distinguish a faint smell of breast milk mixed in with her perfume. I looked at Chloe’s tight T-shirt, which perfectly highlighted her curvaceous figure. The cartoon bear print on it was stretched into a mighty, formidable bear. Even if I tried not to, it was hard to tear my gaze away from her prominent chest. Chloe was a classic beauty. Although she’d already given birth, she had a slender, oval face with smooth features. Her eyes were large, and her lips delicate. She was nothing like those heavily filtered beauties you saw all over social media apps. Chloe was real, a living, breathing beauty standing right in front of me. As a cook, I was often messy and greasy. Standing before her, I was afraid I’d dirty her. Besides, a woman this beautiful—her partner must be pretty protective of her. Her beauty was tempting, but I wasn’t about to stir up trouble. I brought this up, hoping to get her to back off—stop showing up at the restaurant looking for me. To my surprise, Chloe’s face flushed, and she still leaned closer. “Leo, I don’t have a partner.” After saying that, her eyes welled up. It was heartbreaking to see such a beautiful woman cry. Plus, I’d just finished work, right at the restaurant entrance. If my coworkers saw us later, they’d start all kinds of rumors about me. I gently took her arm and led her to a nearby coffee shop, where we sat down for a moment. “Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?” Chloe’s eyes grew even redder. She told me she’d been naive, moving in with her boyfriend and getting pregnant. But the baby was born prematurely and was too weak. After a few days in the hospital’s incubator, they couldn’t save him. Seeing her sob so hard she could barely catch her breath, I kindly ordered her a milkshake. “What about your boyfriend?” Chloe wiped away her tears, gritting her teeth. “That man—when he saw the huge hospital bill for the baby, he just took off. Left me high and dry.” “Now I have nothing. My landlord even kicked me out; I don’t even have a roof over my head.” Her story was really sad. Chloe looked up, carefully asking if I could help her. I hesitated, wondering why she’d chosen me. Growing up poor, I’d stayed single well into my thirties—never even had a girlfriend, let alone a wife. Then I moved to the county town, landing a job at my Uncle Frank’s restaurant. Business was good, and my cook’s salary slowly increased. But it was still just a small restaurant chef’s salary; it could only go so high. I saved every penny, slowly accumulating some money, but even now, it wasn’t much. It was all for when I finally got married; I just couldn’t afford to be generous. Chloe saw my hesitation, her cheeks flushing. “Leo,” she said softly, “it’s okay. I like you, that’s why I want to be with you.” She said she didn’t need any labels, just wanted to help with chores and laundry. She only asked for a place to crash and meals, like we were just roommates. If I ever wanted to find a proper wife, she’d simply disappear. Chloe was so beautiful, and she sounded like she was hardworking and capable. To have a caring woman keep me company at night, no strings attached. It seemed like a win-win for me—no downsides. My heart was tempted. I took her soft, smooth hand in mine. “Alright, come home with me.”

Chloe was even more capable than I’d imagined. The very first day she arrived at my run-down apartment, she immediately started cleaning like a pro. It happened to be my day off, so I sat on the couch, watching her busy herself. From the bathroom to the kitchen, then to the living room and balcony. Years of grime were scrubbed away, leaving the floors so clean you could practically see your reflection. “This place really needs regular cleaning, otherwise, come summer, it’ll be crawling with bugs.” With bags of trash piled in the corner, Chloe then headed straight for the bedroom. I stood up and wrapped my arm around her waist. Even though she’d had a baby, her waist was incredibly slender—she’d clearly bounced back well. The soft skin at her waist twitched, and watching her face, flushed from the heat, my mind started to wander. “The bedroom is where I spend most of my time; it’s clean, you don’t need to bother with it.” Chloe chuckled, her arm sliding around my neck, just as I’d intended. “Okay, I’ll listen to you, Leo.” “But can I take a look inside?” We were both adults, and we both knew exactly what “living together” really meant. The atmosphere grew increasingly intimate. Chloe lowered her head, her cheeks completely crimson. My hand moved lower to her curves, and I swept her up into my arms. “Of course.” The single metal-framed bed in the bedroom was definitely not made for two. I gently laid her on the bed, looking at her delicate, pretty face, my heart racing. The bed creaked loudly for what felt like forever. Only after we’d been intimate did I fully realize my luck. I’d hit the jackpot—finding a woman so curvy and beautiful. Chloe’s soft body pressed against mine again, her breath hot against my ear. “Leo, thank you for taking me in.” Even better, this woman seemed to have no temper at all, always going along with whatever I said. I couldn’t hold back and pulled her back into a passionate embrace. Sweat poured off us, and when I finally came back to my senses, darkness had already fallen. Chloe was incredibly obedient. Despite her fatigue, she still offered to cook for me. One thing was for sure about being with me. Cooking—that was my specialty. Besides, Chloe had been drawn to me in the first place because my cooking tasted good and suited her palate. Now was the perfect time to cater to her tastes. I puffed out my chest: “Sit down, I’ll make dinner for you.” Just a simple meal—three dishes and a soup. Nothing fancy like what I cooked at the restaurant. But the most important thing was that it was clean and fresh. I watched Chloe’s reaction: “How is it? Is it to your liking?” Chloe’s face showed hesitation. She chewed for a while before swallowing. “Leo, why does it taste a little different?” “Well, it definitely can’t be the same,” I took a bite, chewed it, and indeed, it was a bit bland. “Next time, I’ll add more seasoning.” Chloe put down her fork. “It’s not just the seasoning… I think it tasted better at the restaurant, more flavorful…” A knot formed in my stomach. Chloe was a regular at the restaurant—her palate was spoiled. If it were anyone else, it wouldn’t matter, but now—she was my girl, more or less. I reminded her. “Home cooking’s cleaner. You should eat out less from now on.” Chloe’s face brightened again with a smile. “Got it, Leo. From now on, I’ll only eat your cooking.” That first night with a woman in my place, the bedroom’s single bed was way too small for two. I had no choice but to crash on the living room couch. Before turning off the light, Chloe even gave me a sweet, fragrant kiss. “Leo, I’m sorry you have to rough it.” With that kiss? What was there to be sorry about? The lights went out, and the couch was narrow. I tossed and turned for ages, couldn’t sleep. I decided to open my phone and check my bank balance. After saving every penny for so long, I only had fifty grand. If I wanted to marry a proper, respectable girl, I probably didn’t even have enough for a ring or a down payment. I looked at the dark bedroom. Maybe Chloe and I could make a life together. It wouldn’t be so bad. As I was lost in thought, the bedroom light suddenly flickered on.

My brow furrowed, and I grew alert. After all, I wasn’t a naive kid anymore—I’d been through the wringer. I still kept my guard up around women who came on that strong out of nowhere. There was nothing valuable in the bedroom. The little cash I had at home? I’d already stashed it in the bank. If Chloe had any ulterior motives, she wouldn’t find a thing. That said, I still watched the bedroom like a hawk, wondering what she was up to. Getting up in the middle of the night usually meant needing to use the bathroom. But I waited forever, and no one came out. Instead, the faint rustling sounds grew louder. The old saying was true: the prettier the woman, the more she can deceive. I was getting annoyed. What was this restless woman up to? I stood up and directly opened the bedroom door. Just as I’d thought—Chloe was standing by the dresser, all three drawers pulled open, contents strewn across the floor. I rushed over, grabbed her arm, and pushed her onto the bed. “What are you doing?” Chloe fell onto the bed, silent. It took her a minute, like she was waking up from a daze, eyes wide. “Leo, I… I… What happened to me?” Her voice was soft, childlike—way more innocent than before. I grabbed her chin, staring her down: “You don’t know what you were just doing?” Chloe stared at me blankly, big eyes full of confusion. She raised a hand to rub her eyes, but I stopped her. “I… I don’t know.” Chloe pouted, voice all hurt and委屈. I led her to the bedside, pointing at the mess on the floor. “Why were you going through my stuff?” Chloe jumped, then immediately knelt down to start cleaning up. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t do it on purpose.” Seeing her act so docile… did I misjudge her? The items on the bedside table weren’t anything important. They were just basic ingredient recipes Uncle Frank taught me when I first started at his restaurant. I relied on these to learn from scratch, gradually working my way up to head chef. These recipes were basic—you could buy them at any bookstore. No big secret. The real important stuff wasn’t kept at home. I pulled her up, tone softening. “Chloe, do you really not know what just happened?” Chloe bit her lip, shaking her head. “I was just sound asleep in bed, and the next thing I knew—there you were.” Then it hit me—I’d read about people like this online. Sleepwalkers. Doing weird stuff in the middle of the night was normal for them, and they’d have no memory when woken up. Chloe must’ve been uncomfortable sleeping in a new place and started sleepwalking. I bent down, planning to ask her again. But Chloe pulled her hand away, shuffling back in her slippers. “Leo, I know you don’t like me—you don’t trust me. It’s fine. Tonight… I guess I got what I wanted.” She slowly took off the new pajamas I’d bought her, turning her back to me as she pulled on her own T-shirt. “As soon as it’s light out, I’m moving out.” I froze: “But you don’t have a place to stay, no money, no job.” Chloe’s voice was tearful. “I’ll find a job with room and board… Anyway, I won’t bother you anymore, Leo.” How could that be? A beautiful young woman like her—without a man to watch her back? She’d get eaten alive out there. Besides, after spending today together… I looked at her exposed, fair skin and swallowed hard. I reached out, grabbing her, forcing her to turn around. “You’re not moving out. You’re staying here with me.” Chloe still kept her head down, looking all dejected. “What if I’m home alone, and you keep being suspicious?” She suddenly looked up at me: “Or maybe I should go out and work too?” I thought about it. I only had two days off a month. She’d definitely get bored home alone. “Okay, but no need to look elsewhere. Just come work at my restaurant.”

The restaurant was owned by my Uncle Frank Miller. Besides him, his wife Aunt Carol, and their son Jason, I was the only other employee. Meaning, it was a family business through and through—they usually didn’t let strangers in. But after I talked them into it, Chloe joined the restaurant as a dishwashing assistant. My cousin Jason Miller—only a couple years older than me—was eyeing Chloe like crazy. Luckily, he was already married, and his daughter was in elementary school. Plus, on Chloe’s first day, I pulled him aside and warned him she was my girlfriend—so he better not get any ideas. Jason knew better than to mess with Chloe. Uncle Frank, though, seemed happy. He patted my shoulder, saying I was really something. “Business is booming here—I’ve wanted to hire more help forever. But your cousin Jason’s always so cautious, never wants outsiders coming in.” My hands were burning from chopping onions, so I just gave a half-hearted answer. “Jason being careful is normal. But why doesn’t Aunt Carol help out?” Uncle Frank shook his head: “She says it’s too hard.” “See? That’s why I say you’re so capable, Leo. You found a girlfriend as gorgeous as a movie star, and she’s willing to do all this dirty kitchen work.” I glanced at Chloe—bent over the sink, scrubbing a mountain of dishes—and felt a surge of pride. “Indeed, I’ve found a gem.” Dishwashing was the hardest, dirtiest job in the whole restaurant. I purposely put Chloe on this tough task, but to my surprise—this woman actually rolled up her sleeves and started washing dishes without a word. And she washed them way cleaner than Aunt Carol ever did. Chloe did her work so well no one could find fault. Uncle Frank and Aunt Carol were really satisfied. It made me look good, and I even felt more energized while cooking. After work, Chloe’s arms were so sore she could barely lift them. She sat there blankly by the sink. I felt bad for her and helped her up. “Tired? Maybe take tomorrow off?” Chloe leaned half her body against me, shaking her head. “No, I want to stay with you.” “Even if it means washing dishes?” Chloe nodded, eyes full of determination. “Even if it means washing dishes.” After a long day, her bangs were stuck to her forehead with sweat, lips glistening. I couldn’t help but lean in and kiss her. “Why do you want to stay with me?” Chloe’s face flushed bright red, all the way down to her neck. She poked my chest. “Leo, do you really have to ask?” Seeing her shy expression, my heart felt all warm and fuzzy. After these two days, I believed her—she really liked me. Otherwise, she wouldn’t put up with such hard, tiring work just to be by my side. The next day in the kitchen, even Jason came over to give me a heads-up. “Such a delicate young woman—making her do such heavy work. You’ll scare your girlfriend off.” I paused chopping. “Then what do you think she should do?” Jason thought for a second: “Let her prep ingredients.” I told Chloe about the job change, and she jumped up excitedly. “Really?” Prepping ingredients was still tough work. With how busy our restaurant was, she’d be on her feet for over ten hours a day, non-stop. But Chloe was thrilled, throwing her arms around my neck. “Prepping ingredients is great! I can stay by your side the whole time.” Chloe moved to my side, helping out diligently. I gave her all the reference materials I’d used when I was learning. Chloe picked it up super fast, and her ingredient prep was surprisingly organized. In fact, she often prepped ingredients faster than I could cook. During the lunch rush, I was swamped—feet barely touching the ground, hands glued to the wok. The dish was almost done, but someone was still standing by my side. “Chloe, is the next dish ready yet?” “The one after that’s already done too.” “Okay, then go to the front—help Uncle Frank and Aunt Carol with the customers…” As soon as Chloe walked away, I pulled open the small compartment under the counter. “Leo, someone up front says they want to add a dish…” *Clang!* I jumped, hand shaking, and the small can fell to the floor.

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Five months into my pregnancy, I was still working. Just before signing a major contract, the new intern, Amber, handed me a cup of almond tea. I have a severe almond allergy. I went into anaphylactic shock on the spot. When I woke up, I had lost the $30 million contract and the baby I was carrying. I never imagined my husband, Damien, the CEO, would only fine the intern $300, then turn to fire me: “Celeste, Amber didn’t mean it. I’ve already fined her $300. You’ve had a miscarriage, you’re not fit for work. Go home and recover.” “Is our child only worth $300?” I sneered. Then I noticed two fresh scratch marks on Damien’s backside, and it all clicked. The moment he closed the bathroom door, I called his biggest rival, Devin. When we first started the company, we were dirt poor. I worked myself so hard back then, doctors told me it would be difficult for me to conceive. That’s why I was so careful after I got pregnant. I had planned to take maternity leave right after this $30 million deal was signed. But I never expected to miscarry. I remembered telling everyone at a company gathering about my almond allergy. Amber was there. But now, with tears in her eyes, she claimed: “I truly had no idea you were allergic to almonds.” Damien shielded her behind him. “You can’t blame her entirely. Couldn’t you tell if there were almonds in the tea yourself? A $300 fine is enough.” Amber continued to sob: “Celeste, you have such a rich husband in Damien. $300 might be nothing to you. But for me, it’s a box of my father’s medicine. I have to work three days to save that much.” With that, Amber burst into tears and ran out. My husband, of course, chased after her. I stood in the office, a bitter smile on my face. I had taken pity on her during her interview and hired her, never imagining I had fostered a viper who was now sinking its fangs into me. Just then, my phone chimed. It was a SnapChat video from Amber. The screen showed Damien tenderly kissing away her tears. “It’s just $300, don’t cry. I’ll transfer three million to you later, okay?” Amber, eyes red, playfully punched his chest. “No! What do you mean by five million? Is this payment for making me your mistress? I’m not that cheap; I don’t want to be a mistress…” Damien grabbed her hands, tossing her onto the bed before telling her: “You’re not a mistress. You’re my lover.” The screen then went black, leaving only their muffled moans. A sharp pang shot through my heart. Amber was his lover? What did that make me, his wife who’d stood by him for seven years, building his company from the ground up? When we first got married, Damien’s engagement ring was an aluminum can tab. He knelt, promising me: “Celeste, I’ll love and protect you for life. Once I’m rich, I’ll buy you the most beautiful ring.” Now, he was successful, but his vows were long forgotten. I choked back my tears, drafted the divorce papers, and signed them.

After being discharged from the hospital, I drove back to the office to pack my things and process my resignation. In my drawer, I kept a bracelet my mother wore, the only memento she left me. I pushed open the door, only to find Amber sitting happily at my desk, applying makeup—even using *my* cosmetics! Seeing me, she sneered: “Damien said this office is mine now. Some old women are just useless, can’t hold onto a baby, a man, or a job.” Her words stung, my eyes reddening. I reached out to slap her, but a large hand grabbed mine. Amber immediately pouted, tears streaming down her face. “Damien, Celeste told me to get out, said I made her seat dirty.” Damien stepped in front of her, explaining: “You’re going home anyway. Just let her have this office. Perfect, it’ll make her work hard to make up for the losses you caused last time.” I let out a cold laugh. Was this a punishment or a reward? Amber was just an intern; she had no e-commerce experience, let alone live streaming. How could she possibly take over my position? But I was too tired to argue. I just wanted to leave quickly. As soon as I opened the drawer, my mother’s necklace was gone. I asked Amber: “Where did you put the jewelry box that was in here?” She spoke dismissively: “Oh, that old box? I threw it away. It’s probably at the dump by now. Looked like it was only worth ten bucks, I’ll pay you back.” I slapped her directly across the face: “That was my mother’s only memento! No amount of money can ever replace it!” I was the one heartbroken, yet Amber ran off crying, covering her face. “It’s your fault for not keeping it safe, and now you’re blaming me? I bet you just want to drive me away. I have to pay for my dad’s medical bills, and you just want me to lose this job. You’re trying to kill me! I’ll just go kill myself now!” Amber rushed out crying. Damien’s brow furrowed, and he instinctively started to follow her. Trembling, I called out to him from behind: “You can go after her, but sign my resignation letter first.” But he didn’t stop, just glanced at me coldly. “Celeste, when did you become so petty? Are you really going to force Amber to her death? It’s just a bracelet. I’ll buy you a better one.” With that, Damien walked out without hesitation. I tightly clutched my resignation application and went to HR. The employee in charge looked troubled. “Celeste, without Mr. Damien’s signature, your resignation won’t be effective unless you pay the penalty for breach of contract.” I didn’t hesitate. I immediately called Sterling Corporation, his rival company: “You’ve been trying to poach me, haven’t you? I’ll participate in the live selling competition for you in three days. But you have to pay my termination fee.”

After I hung up, Damien had already coaxed Amber back. The termination fee from Sterling Corporation was due in three days, and then I could leave. I ignored them both, quietly returning to my office to pack my things. But no sooner had I sat down than Amber strutted in, her head held high, sweeping my belongings directly off the desk. “Celeste, I’m the streamer now, and Damien said this office belongs to me too. You’re just a junior employee in charge of samples, your spot is over there.” I followed her pointed finger. Beside the trash can was a new workstation, its desk so narrow it was hard to even rest a hand on it. Amber leaned in close to my ear, her voice dripping with provocation: “Damien said you were old and ugly, unlike me, young and beautiful. He wants to look at *me* more, to ‘cleanse his eyes’ of you.” I looked through the glass partition at Damien, my nails digging deep into my palms, yet I felt no pain. He had once specially designed these two unique offices, separated only by a transparent glass wall, just so he could glance at me more during work. He used to say I was his motivation to strive harder. Now, he was making me give even this up to someone else. I tilted my head back, refusing to let the tears fall, and uncharacteristically, didn’t object. I silently walked out. Damien, watching from next door, frowned deeply. He knew perfectly well how much I loved this office, how I’d lean on the desk and watch him after every stream. He had been prepared for me to throw a fit, but my quiet acceptance filled him with a sudden panic. For the first time during working hours, he approached me, explaining: “I’m just doing this to supervise her work, to help her pay back the $30 million as quickly as possible. That’s why I let her temporarily move into your office. Once she pays it back, I’ll make her move out. Celeste, I know you’re upset about losing the baby. How about I take you shopping to get your mind off things?” Thinking about the jewelry I still needed for the awards ceremony tomorrow, I didn’t refuse. I got into his Maybach, treating it as a convenient ride. Soon, I spotted a beautiful sapphire necklace. To my surprise, the sales associate approached me, looking apologetic, to say it had already been purchased. Disappointed, I settled for another one. But as I scrolled through my Ins feed in the car, I saw Amber’s latest post. The picture was none other than the sapphire necklace I had just admired, with the caption: “Damien has such good taste! I’ll wear this to meet our new business partners later.” Before I could react, the passenger door opened, revealing a meticulously dressed Amber. Damien glanced at me, stating matter-of-factly: “You’re Amber’s assistant now. Sit in the back. We’re going to meet the partners together.” So, his initiative was just to have me help Amber pick out a necklace. I forced a bitter smile and moved to the back seat. Then, I watched Amber expertly pull a compact from the car pocket to touch up her makeup. Inside, I vaguely glimpsed an opened box of condoms. I looked away, my heart numb. I thought I couldn’t feel pain anymore, but then, in the private dining room, Amber gave a coy smile as a business partner raised a glass to her. “Oh, I can’t drink right now.” The partner curiously asked, “Why not?” She placed a hand on her stomach, revealing a diamond bracelet on her wrist, and looked directly at Damien, making no effort to hide it. “Because I’m pregnant, and my husband bought me this diamond bracelet especially.” Seeing that bracelet, I let out a cold laugh. He had promised me an engagement ring, a bracelet – he’d bought me nothing. Now, he was so generous with his lover. No wonder he wasn’t sad when I miscarried. They already had a baby together. Amber’s face was alight with smug triumph as she watched my pale complexion, but she still wasn’t done with me. “Even though I can’t drink, Celeste can. Why don’t you let her drink on my behalf? Damien, what do you say?”

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Five years into our marriage, Clara still didn’t love me. One day, we were arguing in the car, and I didn’t notice the truck speeding towards us. Before she died, she told me, guilt clouding her eyes: “I’m sorry, Fitzgerald. I tried to love you, but I just can’t forget him. We can only be friends, never lovers.” Blood from her forehead dripped onto my face. “Fitzgerald, in our next life, please let him and me be together, okay?” When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. Given a second chance, I decisively called off our engagement, ready to let her be with my brother. But one question kept nagging at me. My brother, he died at birth. Who exactly did Clara love? “You’re giving up your engagement?” My father looked like he thought he’d misheard me. “You’ve loved her your whole life. When you were a baby, you didn’t reach for the books your mom and I prepared for you, you reached for Clara!” I lowered my gaze. “That was just when I was little…” My dad wasn’t one to force me. He watched me for a moment, then sighed. “Alright, perhaps it’s for the best. After all, you’re not the only boy in the Miller family. Your cousin, they’re still willing to accept it.” “Dad, could we offer it to my cousin?” “You don’t have a younger cousin.” My dad’s eyes widened. “You’re the youngest of your generation.” Huh? I’d always assumed the ‘brother’ Clara mentioned was some distant relative I didn’t know. “However, there is someone younger than you.” My dad sighed again. “But, you know…” I looked down. Yes, besides the brother who died at birth, I had no other siblings. “Dad, I want to choose my own bride. For now, please don’t tell the Jenkins family I’m breaking off the engagement.” With a heavy heart, I left home and headed straight to the cemetery, my mind a mess. My brother was buried there, beside my mother. I first laid flowers for Mom. Then I placed a shaved ice, some jelly, and a bag of chips in front of the smaller tombstone. Staring at the gravestone, which didn’t even have a photo: “Good brother, can you help your big brother find the ‘brother’ Clara talks about, okay?” After spending some time with my brother, I turned to leave. Another Maybach pulled up beside my car. Clara stepped out, a bouquet of flowers in her hand. Our eyes met, and we both froze. So many words rushed to my mind, but I didn’t know where to start. I took a deep breath. I wanted to ask if she was here to see my brother. Then I noticed the carnations in her hand. It suddenly dawned on me that today was also Mother’s Day. “Are you… here to see my aunt?” She scoffed, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips. “Yes, I’m about to marry you, so of course, I have to come and tell her…” She stared at me. “…this good news.” She bit out those last words. My fists clenched, I fought back the sting in my eyes. “Don’t worry. If your loved one were still alive, I would absolutely help you both!” “Fitzgerald Miller!” Aside from my past life, this was the first time she had ever snapped at me. “Don’t talk nonsense.” My eyes red, I looked at her. “I’m serious!” “Fitzgerald Miller.” She brushed past me. “I haven’t even blamed you for taking his place, and you shouldn’t wish death upon him. “He was right, you really have become a cruel person.” I froze. Clara had already walked into the cemetery. I quietly turned and watched her kneel before my mother’s tombstone. That bowed back had once shielded me from the twisted metal of the car. “Mom, I’m getting married. Just wanted to tell you. “It’s to Fitzgerald Miller. “You always said your biggest wish was for me to marry someone I truly loved. “But, I’m going back on that. “I don’t love him. “He’s stubborn and won’t marry anyone but me. I’m afraid he might really hurt himself. “I know you liked Fitzgerald, and I don’t dislike him either, but love isn’t something I can force. “When the right person appears, one look is all it takes. “I’ll see him one last time at the investment summit in two days. This life, this is it.” Clara walked out of the cemetery. I was still standing where I was. “Clara, take me to the summit.” She paused, surprised. “Let me meet my ‘brother.’ I’ll make things clear with him.” I stared into her eyes. “Then, I’ll give you to him.”

Clara didn’t show the surprise I’d imagined. Instead, her face darkened. “You’re treating our engagement like a joke?” She took a step closer to me, looking up. “You were the one who insisted on marrying me, and now the whole world knows I’m marrying you, and you want to back out? What will people think of me?” “But…” “No ‘buts’.” Before getting into her car, she gave me a cold look. “If you really wanted to break it off, you wouldn’t have waited until today.” “I…” She didn’t wait for my explanation. The Maybach quickly disappeared from my sight. She knew me well. Backing out wasn’t my style. But all of that was before. Before I was reborn. Before I knew the fervent love she held for that ‘brother’ of mine. Clara, we were simply not meant to be. I learned that with my life. I truly wanted to help you, to repay your life-saving grace from my past. I sent her a message, begging her to give us both a chance. She didn’t reply. Only her sister relayed a message to me: “She said there will be decades together after the wedding, no need for pointless talk.” I had no choice. But two days later, a Maybach stopped at my door. Her face slowly appeared from behind the lowered window. “Get in.” I didn’t hesitate. It was a grand gala. The moment Clara and I appeared, we commanded everyone’s attention. The news of the two most powerful families in the social circle uniting had already spread far and wide. Clara stiffly accepted everyone’s congratulations. Her smile was tinged with bitterness, yet she never left my side. She was so conflicted. Loyal and passionate to her love, yet she also possessed an intense sense of responsibility towards her status. With everyone knowing she was my fiancée, She wouldn’t just abandon me here and openly seek out another man. And in my previous life, that very sense of responsibility was what I hated most. It allowed me to cling to the illusion that she might still love me. Then, when she used her life to save mine, to fulfill her wish, I vomited blood from the pain. “Clara, you don’t have to stay with me. Go meet whoever you want.” Her gaze was vacant, fixed on something ahead. “I’m going to the restroom.” With that, she left me. And she did indeed go to the restroom. No excuse to meet anyone. I recalled the direction she had been staring at. My gaze followed. A man in a black suit, his back to me, was chatting with some friends. He seemed to sense my gaze. He turned his head. Our eyes met. My breath caught. How could there be someone in this world who looked so much like me!

He froze too, for a moment. He sized me up and down. Then a dismissive, cold smirk touched his lips. He turned and walked away, his back to me. I hurried after him. “Wait! Excuse me, wait!” The man walked faster. “Wait… Ah!” My foot slipped, and I fell heavily to my knees. I tried to get up, but the entire floor was shaking. It wasn’t that I’d lost my footing. It was the building that was shaking! “Why is there a timer here!” “Oh no! It’s a bomb!” I ignored the panic around me because the man was already heading upstairs. “Wait!” I stumbled after him, my feet scrambling on the shaking floor. A creaking sound came from above. Screams erupted around me. “Don’t run! It’s going to fall on you!” “The chandelier’s broken!” But my eyes were fixed on that man. “Wait! I just want to ask you two questions!” “Fitzgerald Miller!” A massive impact threw me sideways. Clara, holding me, rolled several times across the cracking floor. The chandelier shattered exactly where I had been standing, leaving a huge crater in the granite floor. Before I could speak, the violent shaking made Clara’s nerves fray. Without a word, she dragged me out. Once we were outside the building, she collapsed to her knees. I rushed to support her. Blood dripped from her forehead. She lay in my arms, gritting her teeth. “Are you insane?” In that moment, I felt like I was back in my past life. She had knelt over me, her body so frail, yet shielding me from the twisted steel. But even then, she refused to let me touch her. “Clara…” “Fire! Put out the fire! Someone’s still inside!” The screams of survivors interrupted our conversation. Clara’s body stiffened. Ignoring her exhaustion, she pushed me away and stumbled to her feet. She frantically scanned the crowd of people who had escaped, her eyes searching back and forth. Her eyes instantly turned red. Then she turned and sprinted towards the burning building. “Clara Jenkins!” I tried to follow, but security guards held me back tightly. Clara’s figure disappeared into the inferno. I heard my own voice, almost a scream of despair. “Clara!” The crackling of construction materials in the fire threatened to consume my sanity. A security guard tried to reassure me. “We’ll stop Ms. Jenkins. The building is sealed off. She can’t get in.” “Sealed off…” My eyes were red. “Can anyone inside still get out?” “In… this situation, anyone who didn’t get out… they’re likely gone.” My legs gave out. The security guard held me firmly. That meant… that man, too… “Fitzgerald Miller!” Hearing that voice, my eyes lit up. Clara, her face streaked with ash and blood on her forehead, marched towards me. “Clara! You…” SLAP! A stinging slap landed hard on my face. It brutally cut off my “Are you okay?” “It was you, wasn’t it? You deliberately followed me here just to get him killed!” Even after five years of conflict in my previous life, She had never laid a hand on me. Nor had she ever, like now, pushed past so many security guards just to rush at me. I held my face, looking at her like she was a stranger. “How can you possibly think that?” “Hmph, your father works in specialized security. Out of everyone at the conference today, you’re the only one who could get a bomb like that!” My eyes immediately welled up. “What’s more…” She pushed past the security guard, taking sarcastic steps closer to me. “You usually get furious if I so much as speak to another man. How could you suddenly agree to meet him and offer to give up our engagement?” “Clara…” A bitter laugh escaped me. Her eyes were redder than mine. “I was so stupid. I actually thought you would help us. “I even brought you, the murderer, here myself. Ha… haha…” Her laughter grew more bitter. She slapped herself hard across the face. “Now there’s no one else between us. I’m stuck with you for life. Are you happy?” “Clara!” My eyes burned with tears. But she didn’t spare me another glance. She turned. Stumbled away. And walked further and further. Blood trickled from her sleeve, leaving a trail on the ground where she’d walked. That was from when she’d been cut by the chandelier while saving me.

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I knew my true identity: the real heiress of an elite family. So I hurried to find my parents After the DNA test, Mom and Dad immediately announced my return to the public. Even Seraphina, the adopted daughter, didn’t make things difficult for me; instead, she tried everything to help me blend into our new upscale life quickly. But I was still unsatisfied, constantly stirring up trouble and making our home uncomfortable. Finally, after I hit the nanny, Mom couldn’t hold back anymore. Her voice cracked, “What exactly do you want?!” I pointed at Mrs. Davis. “She keeps comparing me to your other daughter. Says I’m an ugly duckling.” Then, I turned my finger to Seraphina. “Since I’m back, why are you still keeping her around?” Mom and Dad exchanged glances, trying to reason with me. “It wasn’t Seraphina’s fault that the babies were switched.” Yes, it wasn’t her fault. But was it my fault? “I refuse to live with her. It’s either her or me—one of us has to go!” “Stella, you…” Mom reached out, trying to grab me, probably hoping to say something soft and smooth things over like she used to. But I batted her hand away without a second thought, glaring at her fiercely. Dad immediately scolded me. “What kind of attitude is that?” “Is that how you treat your mother? So disrespectful?” I clutched my hair, screaming hysterically. “She’s not my mom, and you’re not my dad!” “You two are Seraphina’s parents! What am I? Just some random person who popped up out of nowhere? You probably wish I’d just died out there, didn’t you?!” As I yelled, my peripheral vision caught sight of the catalyst for this outburst. A box of strawberries that looked… less than fresh. Almost rotten. I snatched the strawberries from the table and hurled them to the floor. Then, I stomped on them with my shoes, crushing them until juice splattered everywhere. “With me and your precious daughter in this house, one is a princess, and the other is a beggar!” “She wants strawberries, and the nanny gives her the freshest, the best.” “I want them, and I’m only worthy of eating ones that have been sitting for a week, already going bad.” “When have you ever treated me like your own? Why does no one here respect me?” I always knew what the nannies whispered about behind my back. But I held it in. After all, what they said was true. If I kept causing trouble, I’d probably just earn the family’s annoyance. But the more I tolerated, the more they just sneered. “Someone who’s unloved? What good things could *she* possibly get to eat?” “These strawberries cost a thousand dollars for just five or six. Even rotten, she’s lucky to have them.” That’s when I finally realized the “delicious” big strawberries I’d been happily eating. They were actually Seraphina’s leftovers, the “trash” she didn’t want because she didn’t like them anymore. Why? I was the *real* daughter of this family! I screamed and cried relentlessly. But Mom and Dad just tried to calm me. “We’ll fire her immediately. If you want strawberries, we’ll take you to buy the best, the freshest ones right now.” Seraphina bit her lower lip, her voice surprisingly calm. “I didn’t know about any of this.” “I…” She said, trying to approach me. But I pushed her away without thinking. “You thief, why are you pretending to be a good person? You stole my life for so long, and you’re still putting on airs?” Seraphina fell to the floor, her head hitting the corner of the table, and blood started gushing. I froze in shock. Seeing this, Mom collapsed to the ground, utterly weak. Dad’s face showed clear anguish. Watching that scene, my hatred surged even more. Without a second thought, I bolted towards the balcony, straddling the railing…

They pulled me back. Mom and Dad grabbed hold of me. But I kept struggling, trying to throw myself off. “Let go of me! Either I die, or she’s out!” Only one thought consumed my mind. Get rid of Seraphina. Get rid of this thief, this robber who stole everything from me. Mom was crying uncontrollably. Yet, she still wouldn’t concede, wouldn’t agree to make Seraphina move out. It was Seraphina herself, clutching her bleeding head, who walked to the balcony and slowly knelt before me. “I’m so sorry. I’ll leave right now.” “I’m so sorry for taking your place for so long.” She looked pathetic. Blood streamed down her face, making her appear utterly disheveled. It was a blatant display of misery. But I knew she wasn’t faking it. She had always wanted to move out. It was Mom and Dad who wouldn’t let her. This time, Dad didn’t try to stop her; he just sighed helplessly. And Mom and Seraphina embraced, weeping together! That very night, Seraphina vanished from the house. A huge weight lifted off my chest, and a secret thrill coursed through me. Even when the nannies looked at me with strange eyes, I didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. Instead, right in front of them, I took every single strawberry from the fridge and tossed them into the trash. “Strawberries are what I hate most.” “From now on, I forbid any trace of strawberries in this house. No, not just strawberries—anything connected to Seraphina is gone!” The nannies in the mansion didn’t dare to defy me anymore. They cleared out Seraphina’s belongings at top speed. This made me feel incredibly triumphant. After all, ever since I returned to this elite family. They had always looked at me with mocking eyes. Whispering behind my back about how I wasn’t as good as Seraphina. Whatever Seraphina told them to do, they did. For me, they just brushed me off! After I got rid of Seraphina, I felt great for a while. But then I saw how unhappy Mom and Dad were, and a slow unease crept into my heart. So, I tried to imitate Seraphina’s behavior, hoping to please them. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with trying to be like Seraphina. If I had grown up in this house, those things would have been *my* duties, not hers. I thought I could replace Seraphina. And I worked tirelessly towards it. Whether it was making coffee just the way Dad liked it. Or arranging flowers, Mom’s favorite pastime. Plus, all my regular lessons. I slept less than six hours every night. But all of it was just an illusion. And what shattered that pathetic fantasy was a house purchase agreement… Ever since I returned to this elite family, I’d gained many “enemies.” Those other socialites looked down on me, constantly mocking me. Seraphina’s rival, Veronica, was the worst of them. She’d sneer, “Though I’ve always hated Seraphina’s high-and-mighty act, compared to someone as low-class as you, dragging down our standards…” “I’d rather have her as the heiress.” I’d always been furious. So, after I drove Seraphina away. When Veronica came to provoke me again, I gloated about Seraphina being gone. “No matter what, fake is fake.” “Is some illegitimate child really better than the real thing?” But she just laughed and told me another truth. My parents had bought Seraphina a luxurious penthouse apartment. And whenever they said they were busy with business trips and wouldn’t be home overnight, they were actually at that apartment, spending time with Seraphina. “Idiot, you think you drove Seraphina away?” “But all you did was give her a huge apartment for free. That place is worth tens of millions!” “Do *you* have that?” “Oh right, your parents are gone; they’ve started a new family elsewhere.”

I didn’t believe it. But reason told me it was highly likely to be true. When I found the purchase agreement in my Dad’s study, clearly marked with Seraphina’s name. My rationality completely exploded. And I immediately went to their door, like I was catching them cheating. When Seraphina opened the door, I pushed past her first, storming into the apartment. Sure enough, Mom and Dad, who had told me they were out of town on a business trip, were right there. It was so cozy. My elegant biological mother was wearing an apron, holding a steaming dish. My father was at the table, reading the news. But when they saw me, their faces instantly paled. I ground my teeth together, a grating sound. “Did I interrupt your little family get-together?” A crushing wave of injustice washed over me. “Tens of millions for a house? How generous!” “Didn’t you say she’d go back to where she belonged?” Dad coughed heavily several times, then spoke to me with a very serious expression. “We had no choice.” “You lived in that place for over a decade. You know what it was like.” “If Seraphina went back, it would be no different from falling into hell!” Hell? I sneered. “That’s because she was *born* in hell.” “Like I give a damn?” “I know you think I’m not as graceful, gentle, or kind as her.” “I’m crass, petty, selfish, and have all the flaws of someone who suddenly got rich.” “But did I ever have a chance to grow up like her?” My foster parents, Seraphina’s biological parents. They were the laziest couple in the entire village. They wouldn’t work, wouldn’t earn money. They lived entirely off their elders’ money. When their children grew up, they’d leech off them even more. At four years old, I was already learning from my older foster sister how to collect recyclables to earn money for food. When I got a bit older, I went out to work, tirelessly doing handicrafts day and night. I often had to argue bitterly with people over a few dollars. I couldn’t afford to lose even a penny. I was sixteen this year, but my height was barely five feet. Even my periods had only just started. The family doctor said I was severely malnourished, and my body was severely weakened. I probably won’t grow any taller in this lifetime. “You feel sorry for her. So why don’t you feel sorry for me? That place you call hell, I lived there for sixteen years!” Even if Seraphina were sent back, she would still have a better life than I did. After all, my parents wouldn’t just leave her with nothing. And Seraphina was already grown; she’d just have to tough it out for two more years, get into college, and then she could escape those parents. Seraphina bit her lower lip, repeatedly saying “I’m sorry” to me. Mom finally couldn’t take it anymore. “What more do you want?!” “Yes, yes, you’ve suffered. You’ve been wronged.” “But whose fault is it?” “Do you think I *wanted* my own child to suffer out there? Do you think I *wanted* to raise someone else’s child?” “God played a cruel joke, letting you come out of my womb only to suffer a harsh life. Maybe I gave birth to the wrong child back then? Maybe Seraphina was destined for a good life, and you were destined…” She trailed off, her lips trembling. And I finished her sentence, asking, “Born worthless, right?”

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