When Cliff Harrod loved me the most, I suddenly found myself time-traveling to the seventh year of our marriage. At that point, he had already been unfaithful, keeping a mistress, and was in the process of divorcing me.

Three months after the breakup, my girlfriend, Nicole Adams, got engaged to her new boyfriend, Quinn Turner. She had pursued me so passionately, saying countless times a day that she loved me, urging me to come back, and asking me why I didn’t like her. However, in the end, she fell in love with someone else. After our seven-year relationship, we severed ties. I finally gave up on her completely.

My fiancé Logan Perez’s high school sweetheart, the one he had loved long before me, was now gravely ill. She was an orphan, and her greatest wish before she died was to have a “legitimate” family. So, Logan, who was supposed to marry me, secretly married her instead. And just like that, I went from being his fiancée to a third wheel in someone else’s marriage.

On the day I married Jasper Hawthorne, my younger sister, Fiona Winslow, died. After her death, Jasper, who had twice rejected her love, suddenly realized he had been in love with her all along. He turned all his anger on me, calling me the one who drove her to her death, saying I deserved nothing but misery for the rest of my life. Even my mother hated me. She screamed at me again and again, “Elara, why wasn’t it you who died?” But later, when I was really dying, they begged me to hold on and live.

My marriage to Elliott Wellington was a godsend for me but not for him. On our wedding night, he left me and went somewhere else. Later, I found out that the woman was none other than his ex-girlfriend, Patricia Adams. In the fourth year of our marriage, I finally made up my mind and asked for a divorce, but he pushed me against the door and roared like a madman, “Scarlett, I’m not the trash you throw away after playing with me!” This year marked the fourth year of my marriage to Elliott. In the past, I would definitely jog behind him or be at his beck and call. However, now, I found life increasingly hopeless and boring. After four years of marriage, I had been making an effort to play the role of a considerate wife in public. Elliott had been doing the same. He was seen as a rare ideal husband by my parents, an exemplary spouse by the media, and a caring president of a wealthy family by others. In short, in the eyes of outsiders, he was perfect. Therefore, after knowing that I had an argument with him, they habitually blamed me instead of him. To others, Elliott was such an exceptional husband that he was one in a million. But there was a reason they thought highly of him. I would have done the same thing six years ago. After all, that was when I fell in love with him. As a junior in college, I saw Elliott for the first time and was struck by how incredibly handsome he was. Since then, I always paid attention to him, arranging encounters while making him believe they were accidental. “Elliott, what a coincidence! Are you going to the library, too? “Elliott, you are coming to this cafeteria today, too!” … Finally, after a series of chance encounters, I exchanged contact information with Elliott. Then, I became one of the insignificant faces among his Instagram followers. How could an excellent person like him remember my appearance and name? But I didn’t give up. I sent him good morning and good night messages daily and occasionally shared interesting things that happened to me. However, Elliott was very aloof. He responded only selectively, and at times, I wouldn’t hear from him for several days. At that time, I thought I was too annoying and felt bad for a while. Until that day, I saw him kissing a girl under a tree. I later found out that she was the one that other girls on the campus confession wall envied for being with Elliott. But I was like a clown, sending him nonsense messages every day. He must find me annoying. Yesterday, instead of informing me directly, he told his secretary, Victor Hastings, that he was going to have dinner outside. I cooked a lot of delicious food and waited until dark before receiving a call from Victor. I had been married to Elliott for four years. During that time, I had nearly exhausted all my affection for him. Where he was and what he was doing now were completely unknown to me. I rarely inquired about his affairs and was unaware of most of them. If it hadn’t been for that message, I wouldn’t have even discovered that he went to his childhood sweetheart’s house on our wedding night. ​It was the same girl from college, Patricia Adams.​ However, he explained, “The company has a document that needs to be processed urgently.” At 1:30 in the morning, while lying on my bed in my bedroom, I could faintly hear the sound of raindrops falling outside. It was my first night as Elliott’s wife after our wedding. Yet, he was with another woman at that moment. I couldn’t calm down because he left with just one phone call. Feeling upset, I picked up my phone to scroll through Instagram, only to receive a text message from a number ending in “0814”. [Elliott is doing well here with me. Thank you.] These hurtful words stung my eyes and gave me a headache. But when Elliott came back the next day, I pretended to be ignorant, as if I had never received that message. “Aren’t you curious about where I went last night?” he asked while skillfully cutting the steak on his plate. Slightly startled, I smiled, “Didn’t you mention you went to the company to process a document?” He raised his eyebrows and said nothing more. I was unsure whether it was a test or a suspicion of me. I always felt that he had some secrets behind marrying me.

Lying on the soft, big bed, I recalled the four years of marriage. Despite having no feelings for me, Elliott was a good husband. After marrying him, I enjoyed a luxurious life, thanks to his position as president. I played cards and went shopping every day. My life was pretty comfortable. But I gradually lost my patience with this boring life and even attempted to escape because Elliott’s beloved wasn’t me. The bedroom door was pushed open, and a tall figure instantly loomed over the quilt. I knew Elliott was back. ​The clock ticked once and struck midnight.​ He came back early tonight. I felt the mattress dip behind me as a warm body pressed against my back. “I know you’re not asleep yet.” Elliott’s breath brushed my neck. I didn’t pivot around and said calmly, “I’m not in the mood today.” He still turned a deaf ear to my words, as domineering as ever. After we had sex, I listened to the raindrops falling outside. I pondered for a moment and said seriously, “Elliott, let’s get a divorce.” I wasn’t sure if Elliott heard me that night, but he didn’t return for the next two nights. It was normal for him not to come back home, so I didn’t dwell on it. I made an appointment with a friend to go shopping in a newly opened mall. While wandering around, we walked past Elliott’s company. It was a thirty-story building that housed many industries. As the owner of the building, Elliott had lived a high-profile “celebrity” life since his childhood. “Don’t you want to go upstairs and take a look?” I pulled my friend, feeling embarrassed. “No. Let’s continue shopping. There’s a great café up ahead.” To my surprise, I turned around and saw a very familiar figure at the front desk of the lobby on the first floor. My friend also saw her and drew me hurriedly. “Isn’t that your husband’s first love? Why is she here?” Having already decided to divorce, I was unwilling to get involved too much in Elliott’s affairs. I was about to grab my friend and leave this place. “What a coincidence!” A sweet voice sounded behind us. “Mrs. Wellington.” I sensed Patricia’s hatred from the form of address. If something hadn’t happened in her family that forced her to break up with Elliott, I wouldn’t have married him and become Mrs. Wellington. So, I could really turn a blind eye to her rude tone. “Yeah, what a coincidence,” I replied out of politeness. Patricia sized me up with burning eyes. “Would you like to go in for a cup of coffee?” She was referring to the coffee bar in the company’s lobby. I didn’t frequent it often and had only had a drink there once. However, she acted as though she were the building’s hostess, inviting me, the true hostess. My friend couldn’t help but retort, “Ms. Adams, there’s no need for coffee. After all, Mrs. Wellington and I are going to the café in front. Enjoy the free coffee in the lobby on the first floor yourself!” Before I could say anything, my friend pulled me away. “Don’t you want to know what happened between Elliott and me over the years?” Patricia’s voice kept echoing in my mind, and I was very curious about their past. “Don’t overthink. She is shameless.” In the café, my friend held my hand and comforted me. I shook my head. “I am fine. I’m just interested in what she said.” “You have to trust Elliott. The hardest part of a relationship is building mutual trust.” I had always believed in Elliott, but all I received in return were the duties of a husband and wife. As for everything else, I felt nothing. I suspected Elliott might have given Patricia some instructions, as she had the audacity to provoke me today. If he hadn’t doted on her so much, how would she have dared to confront me? After figuring it out, I became more determined to get a divorce.

I rarely saw Elliott these days. Either he returned after I had fallen asleep or left before I woke up. But I had long been accustomed to this kind of life. After getting up in the morning, I habitually made my own breakfast, browsed my phone, and laughed heartlessly. I had received plenty of provocative messages in the past few days. [Elliott will never fall in love with you.] [Elliott belongs to me alone!] And so on. I immediately knew it was Patricia trying to upset me, but she didn’t realize I had lost interest in such matters. My phone rang in the afternoon, and I answered Elliott’s call. “Let’s go to the steakhouse at Cedar Avenue tonight!” His voice on the other end of the phone was deep and magnetic. I hadn’t heard it for a long time, and I was distracted for a while. “Me and you?” I paused and asked again, “Just the two of us?” He seemed surprised by my questions and couldn’t help laughing. “Yes, I have already made a reservation.” I beamed with joy and agreed immediately, “Okay!” We could talk about divorce tonight. I was not sure if Elliott could predict the future or if it was because of something else. He stood me up. I waited in the steakhouse for half an hour, but he didn’t show up, so I took my bag and went home. Two hours later, he called me hurriedly. “I’m so sorry. I had an overseas video meeting. Are you home?” I held the phone and hesitated in silence for a while before replying, “Yeah.” In my opinion, divorce was a very serious matter and should be discussed face to face. Elliott should be back tonight. As I expected, there was a noise outside the villa at around eleven o’clock in the evening. Upstairs, I took out the divorce agreement I had prepared in advance. Elliott took off his coat while explaining inexplicably, “I’m sorry something delayed me tonight. Did you wait long?” He rarely cared about these before. “Have you had dinner yet? If not, let’s eat something together.” I felt mixed emotions, tugged at the corner of my clothes, and said, “Elliott, let’s get a divorce!” He seemed not to have heard clearly and asked, “What? “What did you say?” I replied calmly, “I said we should get divorced. You can be with your childhood sweetheart, and we should move on from each other.” It seemed that Elliott hadn’t heard me that night. He grew furious. His eyes widened instantly as he clenched his fists and growled, “Do you dare to repeat it?” I said fearlessly, “I said…” Elliott’s aggressive kiss prevented me from finishing my words. I punched his back hard until he let go of me just before I almost suffocated. I noticed his bloodshot eyes and a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth, which was from where my lip had been scratched. He wiped his lips as if removing something very filthy, then stared at me coldly and said, “Scarlett, I’m not the trash you throw away after playing with me!” Before I could say anything, the door was slammed shut. I brought up this matter in such a casual way, as simple as going to the supermarket to buy groceries. But Elliott’s reaction dissatisfied me very much! ​A divorce would allow him to be with his childhood sweetheart, would it not? If it had been someone else, they would have readily agreed to such a good thing. I believed people like Elliott should be more cunning. Despite the idea that it would be better if fewer people knew about this, I could no longer hide my excitement. I told my friend in advance. “What did you say? Do you want a divorce? “Are you going to abandon such an ideal husband? Give him to me.” I didn’t bother to explain to her how I spent the past few years. Even if I did, she certainly wouldn’t buy my story because, in her eyes, Elliott was simply perfect. “My marriage is not as good as you think,” I replied while holding the phone. My friend calmed down and advised, “But Scarlett, your marriage may not be as bad as you think! I regard Elliott as a reliable person.” I understand why she always spoke well of Elliott. During my junior year, I cried my heart out in depression because he had a girlfriend. When my friend invited me to go out and have fun, I either declined or appeared very gloomy once there. Later, I felt better. It wasn’t until my senior year that I got together with Elliott. She was the first one with whom I shared the news. I believed she genuinely wanted me to be happy after witnessing our relationship evolve into marriage over the years. Furthermore, he had taken good care of me and done nothing wrong. But it wasn’t a reason for me to compromise, right?

Several days passed. Elliott still didn’t come back, and I had no idea where he spent the night. It should be Patricia’s place. After all, she had recently sent me so many inappropriate messages to provoke me that I couldn’t even block them. She was the only one who had so much free time to upset me. Today was the day Elliott and I had scheduled for our monthly visit to his parents. In the past, we would go together, but this time, I had to go alone. After getting ready and dressed, I carried my latest bag and drove my own supercar to the Wellington Manor. It was in a serious and classic style, and there were several arches in the garden behind the gate. I walked through the front yard and saw Elliott’s grandmother, Laura Wellington, sitting in the center. “Laura, why did you come out today?” I approached her with a smile. She often gave me gifts and treated me like her own granddaughter. “Scarlett, you are here! Where’s Elliott?” “He is busy at work, so he asked me to come by myself.” I lied without hesitation. Laura hit her cane on the ground angrily. “He doesn’t care about you! How inconsiderate!” Elliott’s parents also criticized him. And so did I. Moreover, I even exaggerate the situation, hoping to destroy the good man image that Elliott had created completely. Suddenly, a deep male voice came from the door. “I do care about Scarlett!” It was Elliott?! I pivoted around and saw him. How could he say such shameless things? Wasn’t he afraid that I would record it and send it to his childhood sweetheart? I deliberately turned my eyes from him. “Elliott, you must take good care of Scarlett! After all, you chose her as your wife!” Elliott glanced over and said, “I know, Grandma. You all have seen whether I take good care of her or not!” To be honest, I couldn’t help but admire his eloquence. He kept telling his family how well he treated me, setting it up so that if we divorced in the future, the blame would undoubtedly fall on me. He was going to get me into trouble. I hurriedly grabbed Laura’s hand and complained aggrievedly, “Laura, you have to scold him for me. We had a quarrel these days, and I didn’t even know where he was!” She was very anxious. “What was going on?” “That’s not true, Grandma. We love each other. Scarlett was just joking!” He pulled me away from Laura with a fake smile. Then, he whispered in my ear, “You’d better not tell them these things. Otherwise, there will be consequences.” I rolled my eyes at him. His threat didn’t scare me. After dinner, we left the Wellington Manor. I didn’t plan to ride in the same car with Elliott. “I have something else to do. See you later!” I intended to go to the bar and have some fun with my friends. After being mostly homebound for four years of marriage, I was eager to enjoy my single life in advance. “Aren’t you going home?” Elliott watched me get into my red supercar. Home? It wasn’t home at all. Instead of replying, I started the engine directly. In an instant, a dark figure suddenly rushed into my front passenger seat. “What are you doing?” I glared at Elliott. He sized me up. “I am looking at my wife.” I was so upset by his words. “We are getting divorced. I won’t be your wife soon.” “Since we aren’t divorced, you are still my wife.” My plan was ruined by Elliott, so I had to drive back to the villa. The wind blew through the dark night, making the hair on his forehead even more disheveled. He appeared more attractive than before. As a student, he was immature and introverted, but now he exuded maturity and steadiness. Without Patricia, maybe I could really continue to live a happy life with him. “What are you thinking? The light turned green.”

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My brother brought his girlfriend home to meet our parents. However, I discovered that she underwent an abortion procedure at our hospital just last week. And my brother had been abroad for six months of study, only returning yesterday.

When my son was just five years old, the foundation of my marriage to Alex Short began to crumble because of the presence of Mona Mill and her child. Alex had once vowed that his attentiveness to Mona stemmed solely from pity since she was a single mother with a daughter. Yet, time and again, he chose Mona and her daughter over me and our son. Alex even neglected our son in favor of caring for Mona’s daughter.

On Christmas Eve, my parents took me home on the last bus. I cried loudly and insisted on leaving, so Farrell and Malinda had no choice but to take me out of the bus. The bus then had an accident that night. Farrell and Malinda were shocked.

I wanted to kill my daughter. I never believed that there were people who were born bad until my daughter was born. When she was two years old, her grandmother was feeding her and she said, “Baby, let me eat a bite of your banana.” She then poked her grandmother’s eyes with fork, and her grandmother was caught off guard and sent to the hospital. When her husband teased her by saying he would take the toy away, she simply threw the toy on the ground and crushed it, screaming as she did so. When she was four years old, her friend’s child came to our house to play. For some reason, the two children started quarreling. When we were trying to comfort them, my daughter went into the kitchen, took out a kitchen knife and threw it directly at the child, almost causing blood to splatter on the spot. She loved to see us panicking. The more we screamed, the happier she was, clapping her hands and giggling. Then she grew bigger and more terrifying. My husband said exhaustedly, “Let’s have a second child.” From the half-open door, a pair of eerie eyes stared at us.

The night before the engagement, my fiancé, Max Chase, sought to prove his devotion to Lilian Smith. He hired someone to kidnap me, whisking me away to the remote Chaosiford. My face was marred by scratches. My kidney was ripped from my body. My lifeless form was cast into a fetid pond. The news of my death was splashed across newspapers and swiftly carried back to Kinstoland. Upon hearing it, my mother, Lily William, was so gripped by despair that her hair turned as white as snow in one anguished night. Her heart finally succumbed to the overwhelming weight of her grief. Clutching her bouquet like a trophy, Lilian entwined her arm with my brother, Joey William. Together, they marched towards Max with the pomp and swagger of a victory procession. But then, my eyes fluttered open, and I found myself returning to the day I adopted Lilian. She stood at the door, timid, as she whispered my name, Natalie. Clad in an ill-fitting pink dress, she looked at me with awkwardness. Her petite face, no larger than a delicate palm, was etched with an intense yearning and a tender closeness. “Can I call you Natalie?” she asked. I would carry her voice with me until my dying day. It was this very voice that echoed through Chaosiford, calling out in the aftermath of the moment my face was marred by scratches. She proudly declared that Max and Joey had done it all for her. The physical agony from my past life was now left behind. But it was the phantom ache near my kidneys that tormented me most. My nails dug into my palms as I eyed the seemingly innocent girl before me. My voice was cold, “Whatever.” I harbored a kidney laced with toxins. A specialist once predicted that I would need a kidney transplant upon reaching adulthood, lest I not see past twenty. Among all potential donors, Lilian’s kidney matched mine with uncanny precision. The William family promised her a life of luxury if she agreed to the transplant, which she did. Her presence in the Moonlit Villa was a testament to this pact. Receiving my answer, Lilian stepped forward with joy, reaching out to grasp my wrist. Her voice was as sweet as honey when she said, “Natalie, don’t worry. As soon as I give you my kidney, you’ll be well again in no time.” Her joyous approach was a scene from my past life. A pang of guilt struck me for her because I knew that her kidney was destined for my salvation through transplantation. I granted her every wish. I resolved to also set aside a share of my belongings for her. With her sights set on attending a prestigious high school, Ksyford School, I urged my mother to arrange for her to transfer into my class. She confided in me about being an orphan with low self-esteem, so I made it known to all that she was my sister, elevating her status in the eyes of others. Even as she approached Max, my fiancé, at the birthday party, I cautioned Max to cherish her well with a playful yet earnest tone. Yet, all my efforts and sacrifices for her were met with nothing but her deep-seated resentment. In the moments before my death in that past life, she questioned why I had everything while she was abandoned at birth. Her jealousy drove her to take my fiancé and brother from me. I sneered. It took death for me to learn that the tale of the farmer and the snake was no mere fiction; some were undeserving of kindness. I brushed away Lilian’s hand. My eyelashes were lowered. “The William family will ensure your wealth, but you don’t seek my friendship. I have no need for it,” I said. Lilian halted in her tracks as an embarrassed flush crept over her features. Ignoring her, I ascended the stairs. My willingness held the power to transform her fate; it would decide if she could be the adopted daughter of the William family as my beloved little sister. Yet, should my heart withhold its blessing, she would stay forever in the margins as merely the orphan. Despite my rejection, Lilian’s enthusiasm remained unquenched. By dinnertime, she had donned the new clothes provided by my family. She eagerly learned about Joey and me from Rose Short, a nanny, and placed freshly squeezed juice before us with a flattering gesture. Joey scoffed. He left the orange juice untouched until the meal’s end. I caught the disappointment on Lilian’s face. Then, I pondered when Joey’s affection for Lilian began. He was so utterly captivated by Lilian that he was prepared to forge an alliance with Max, conspiring to exile me, his own sister, to the distant, untamed wilderness of Chaosiford. It was clear as day that Joey harbored a deep-seated loathing for Lilian when it all began. He even refused the juice she offered. At the very same moment as in our past life, Lilian appeared at my door, clad only in her pajamas. I stood at the threshold, gazing into her tear-filled eyes with an air of indifference. At this precise moment, Lily had just finalized the transfer arrangements for Lilian. Tomorrow, Lilian would walk through the gates of Ksyford School alongside Joey and me. I understood the worries that clouded her mind. Ksyford School was an institution masquerading as a key high school but more akin to an aristocratic college. Aside from a select few who were admitted for their exceptional academic prowess, the majority of the student body at Ksyford School was composed of those born into wealth or nobility. Lilian possessed neither the sterling academic record nor the distinguished lineage. Her presence there was akin to a rabbit venturing into a garden of tigers. She tentatively tugged at my sleeve. Her voice broke with emotion, “Natalie, I am an orphan, marked by inferiority from the very cradle.” I cast my gaze downward, focusing on the sleeve she clutched with desperate fingers. Her soft sobbing reached my ears. “I’m terrified that no one will like me.” After enduring her heart-wrenching sobs in our past life, I had promised her a family. I had assured her that she would have a share in all that I possessed. Consequently, the entire class was under the impression that Lilian was the youngest heiress of the William family. Yet, how did she choose to repay my generosity? She wept pitifully to my friends, claiming she was nothing more than a living donor for me. She alleged that I had coerced her into undergoing the transplant. A soft laugh escaped my lips as I gently reclaimed my sleeve from her grip. My gaze met the disappointment etched across her face. I said icily, “It’s unwise to make malicious assumptions based on events that have yet to unfold.” Her sobs ceased abruptly. She gaped at me. I furrowed my brows, gripping the door handle firmly. “I’m going to sleep,” I announced. She opened her mouth, perhaps to plead or to say something more. But I had lost all willingness to engage and closed the door softly but firmly. After a brief pause, there came a knocking on the door next to mine. Until Joey spat out the words “get out” with such venom, the incessant knocking on the door finally ceased. Joey had always possessed the soul of an introvert. He perpetually cloaked himself in silence and indifference. He had never been one to openly express his likes or dislikes. Most of the time, he favored the company of his own solitude. His apparent disdain for Lilian was a deviation from his usual demeanor.

As we prepared to leave for school, Lilian trailed behind me. Her curiosity was piqued as she peered through the car window. “Isn’t Joey joining us?” she asked. Once upon a time, before high school, Joey and I shared the same ride to school. Later, my old ailment seized me once again in the classroom. The driver waited for Joey, who was engrossed in a basketball game at the eastern campus. Lily rushed to my side at the hospital. After a public scolding of Joey, she flew overseas to handle a contract. From that day forward, Joey chose to ride his bicycle to school alone. His figure grew ever more distant. Lilian frowned as if she were piecing together a complex puzzle. Just as I had foreseen, when Lilian stepped forward and introduced herself, she was met not with the warmth of affection but with the cold sting of disdain. She possessed neither stellar grades to boast of. Nor did she come from a family of notable standing. Among the congregation of wealthy heirs, she stood out starkly. After Lilian finished her unremarkable self-introduction, Selena White, my friend, leaned in and whispered, “Who is she?” From my seat, I watched Lilian, whose discomfort was palpable on the podium, and I couldn’t help but let a sneer curl my lips. “She’s a poor soul, attempting to mingle with the wealthy,” I remarked. In a past life, under my protection, Lilian had seamlessly blended into my circle of friends. Thus, she was shielded from the sting of disdain. This time, I observed her floundering with a detached indifference. After school, Lilian was repeatedly detained by Mia Brown. The rationale behind this was to provide the freshmen with an update on their homework progression. Lilian reached out, clutching my sleeve. She gazed at me with eyes full of pleas. It was then that I noticed the bruises and scars marring her face. I arched an eyebrow and calmly asked, “What happened?” With an arm draped around Lilian’s shoulders, Mia chuckled. “Just a little extra tutoring for the new students.” Girls with dyed blonde hair prodded Lilian’s cheeks. They grinned and said with mockery, “It seems our new student isn’t too keen on integrating?” Lilian’s cheeks reddened under the sharp nails. Her sobs were choked back as she shook her head. It wasn’t until dinner that Lilian returned to the Moonlit Villa. She was exhausted. Passing the dining table, she asked why I hadn’t waited for her. Tears welled in her eyes. I did not miss the brief flare of resentment that sparked in her eyes. I tapped the tabletop and felt amused. I coldly retorted, “Do I have any obligation to wait for you?” As I turned away, Lilian called out, “Natalie William! “I’m willing to donate one of my kidneys to you. “Aren’t you even a little grateful?” Confusion furrowed my brow. I gestured towards her limited edition dress and custom-made leather shoes. I gazed at her calmly. “As part of our deal, my family has already provided you with a good life.” I enumerated the benefits Lilian had reaped. The William family had plucked Lilian from the orphanage, transplanting her into the grandeur of the Moonlit Villa. She had also earned her spot at Ksyford School, mingling daily with students whose names were synonymous with prestige. She got a share of my own possessions. Each piece of her clothing was a tangible emblem of the gifts we had bestowed upon her. Her cheeks flushed. Her voice melted into a gentle whisper. “I treat you as my sister, but you seem to despise me. Did I do something wrong?” I looked into her puzzled face. My voice was gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” It was I who had erred, failing to see people for who they truly were. The cruel twist of fate that orchestrated my tragic end was so devastating that it turned my mother’s hair stark white in a single night, and her heart, unable to bear the sorrow, simply ceased to beat. If given the chance to relive it all, I would cast aside all those who had once forsaken me, ensuring they met the retribution they so rightly deserved. I would begin with Lilian. Since Lilian coveted my background and yearned to be part of the wealthy elite, I would shatter her hopes. I would ensure she was reduced to nothing more than a distant speck to gaze longingly at the stars. Lilian was once again detained by Mia under the guise of tutoring. The driver calmly nodded, preparing to leave the campus. Through the car window, I caught a glimpse of Lilian trailing behind Joey. Joey remained indifferent as ever. However, Lilian bit her lip and fixed her gaze on me through the half-raised glass. The next day, Lilian began her journey to school with Joey. She sat in the backseat. Her arms were carefully wrapped around Joey’s waist. They acted as inseparable as conjoined branches and sped away from me. During morning reading, Joey escorted Lilian to the classroom door. His expression remained blank. In full view of everyone, Lilian called out to him in a sweet voice, “Joey!” Joey turned his head. A smile graced her lips. “Remember to pick me up after school!” I clenched my hands, watching Joey nodding gently and agreeing to her request. Upon receiving his answer, Lilian smiled broadly. From halfway across the classroom, she cast a smile towards me. Her face shone with an unmistakable pride. I knew the source of her pride. She took pride in the peculiar reality that Joey maintained a distant connection with me while he was nonetheless willing to chauffeur her to and from school. Selena nudged my arm and voiced her confusion, “Why does she call Joey?” I released my tightly clasped hands and calmly replied, “I don’t know.” I didn’t understand why Lilian called Joey. I was utterly perplexed as to why Joey had suddenly responded to Lilian. Regardless of his reasons, since that morning, Lilian was never detained for tutoring again. Upon returning to the Moonlit Villa, Lilian approached me with a blue doll in her hands. She feigned curiosity. “Natalie, did you make this doll for Joey? It’s so exquisite. It must have taken a lot of time!” I gazed silently at the doll she held. The poignant memory took me back to when I was just twelve years old. Night after night, I forsook sleep, pouring my heart into crafting the doll for Joey’s birthday. When I excitedly presented it to him, he merely uttered a cold “thank you” before placing it on the windowsill. Since childhood, I had been frail. Lily wrapped me in a cocoon of stringent control. Joey was my sole playmate, yet he disliked playing with me. I called him sweetly, offering him candies. His eyes narrowed with an unmistakable loathing as he commanded coldly, “Go away.” I never understood why Joey disliked me, yet I yearned for his affection. Thus, I went to great lengths to please him. Staying up to make a doll was one of those foolish endeavors. Reflecting on the phone call before my death in my previous life, I found it all so absurd. I snatched the handmade doll Lilian was flaunting. My eyes locked on Joey behind her. With an impassive expression, I tossed the doll into the trash. “It’s dirty.” The sincerity I had poured into that gift was wasted. It didn’t matter. I could throw it away just as easily as I could discard Joey without a second thought. Joey frowned, remaining silent. Lilian stood before me, preparing to condemn me. “Don’t you think you’ve gone too far? You’re using your mother’s favoritism to bully your brother!” Hearing this, I sneered. I finally figured out why Joey had always hated me. He believed our mother favored me. I turned to face Lilian, whose indignation clouded her features. A realization of why Joey, with his usual indifference, would stand up for Lilian dawned on me. What a profound family bond they shared. I pushed aside Lilian, who was blocking my path. My face was devoid of emotion. I turned and ascended the stairs in silence. Outside the window, a drizzle began to fall. Raindrops tapped against the glass with a crisp sound. It should have been the perfect environment for sleep, yet slumber eluded me. The memories of trying to win Joey’s favor as a child flickered through my mind unbidden. He always told me coldly to go away. My neatly trimmed nails dug deep into my palm. “I don’t want you this time,” I murmured to the memory of the young Joey. My voice was choked. “What kind of brother are you?” I had tried so hard to be kind to him. Yet, he took in false accusations and conspired with Max to send me to Chaosiford for Lilian, an adopted daughter of our family. My face was scarred by a razor blade. My kidneys were removed, and I was thrown into a fetid pool. Meanwhile, he held Lilian’s hand, walking her towards Max. The pain of having a kidney removed in my previous life resurfaced suddenly. I curled up, holding my waist tightly. A string of tears dampened the pillow as an uncontrollable moan escaped my throat. Once again, I was engulfed in the despair of being butchered. I was unable to extricate myself. A warm hand touched my forehead. An anxious voice abruptly pulled me from my reverie, “Natalie.” I opened my heavy eyelids to find Lily sitting beside the bed. She gently wiped away the tears from the corners of my eyes. Her gaze was filled with love. “Mom is here.” This was the first time I had seen my mother since my rebirth. My nose tingled, and I couldn’t help but throw myself into her arms. She softly caressed my cheek. With a sigh, she asked, “What’s wrong, Natalie? Have you been wronged?” I shook my head gently. It wasn’t worth sacrificing myself for Joey and Lilian. “Dr. Blake said you had a high fever due to emotional distress,” Lily said. She handed me pills with a fearful sigh. “If Rose hadn’t come up to call you for breakfast and found something amiss, you would be in the ICU by now.” After a knock on the door, Rose entered with milk, placing it on the small table. She gestured towards the door. “It’s raining outside, but Mr. Joey William is still kneeling.” Anger lingered in Lily’s voice. “Let him alone. He must accept the punishment for his wrongdoings.” Joey had been kneeling in the courtyard for a long time. I approached him, holding an umbrella. He didn’t even raise his head. His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Are you satisfied?” The umbrella handle dug into my hand. I lowered my eyelashes. “If Rose hadn’t discovered my high fever, I would be in the ICU now. “But you thought I was framing you, tricking Mom into coming home because of illness.” Joey suddenly lifted his head. Tears welled in his eyes. I half-squatted, examining him closely. I asked sincerely, “So, in your heart, even an adopted daughter brought into our family halfway through is more important than me, your biological sister? “You drive her to and from school, and you can even give her the birthday present I gave you.” Joey remained silent. I blinked, speaking to him softly, “Joey, you hate me, don’t you?” His eyelashes trembled slightly, but he never denied my words. So, it was true. Joey did hate me. I nodded, suppressing my tears. “That’s right! I don’t like you either. I won’t recognize you as my brother anymore!”

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