My name was Lillian Miller. The day I went into the operating room to deliver my twins, my husband, Vincent Moore, flat-out refused to sign the consent form for anesthesia. He insisted I was allergic to it and couldn’t have any. So, there I was, undergoing an emergency C-section without any pain relief. When the moment came and my babies were pulled from me, I took my last breath and died. But my soul didn’t move on; it lingered, and I overheard a conversation between Vincent and his mistress, Nancy Fox. He said, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “Now you can rightfully be my wife. You won’t have to suffer through childbirth, and you can step right into the role of mother.” Nancy gazed down at my two little ones nestled in Vincent’s arms, a wide smile spreading across her face. And just like that, I found myself back in the delivery room on that fateful day once more. I jolted awake from a haze of pain, only to find a pool of blood soaking the sheets. I had been reborn. Just then, my husband, Vincent, burst through the door and froze at the sight of me. Panic etched across his face, he rushed to my side. “Lillian, it looks like you’re going into labor! I’ll call an ambulance right away. Just stay put; I’ll take care of everything.” In my past life, he had said the same thing, and I had believed him, trusting that he would handle it all. But I hadn’t anticipated that he would turn around and tell the doctor not to give me anesthesia, leading me to endure a torturous C-section that ultimately cost me my life. This time around, I was determined to seize control of my fate. I gripped his shirt; my voice strained with urgency. “Please, call my parents and let them know what’s happening.” Vincent shot up, irritation flashing in his eyes. “What do you need to call them for? I don’t want to worry them. I’ll take you myself, and that’s enough.” After dialing for the ambulance, he settled down on the edge of the bed, lighting a cigarette as if waiting for a casual visit rather than the arrival of our children. I was in so much agony that I couldn’t even move. I desperately reached for my phone on the bedside table, but Vincent quickly snatched it away from me. His annoyance deepened. “What are you doing? I told you, no need to call anyone. You’ve got me here to support you through this.” With all the strength I could muster, I replied, “My parents raised me. Now that I’m about to have my babies, I want them by my side. It would make me feel so much better.” Vincent slowly placed my phone on the far side of the room, out of my reach. “You don’t need to call them. It’s just two babies, Lillian. You’re not a kid anymore; you don’t need your mom and dad holding your hand.” Frustrated and feeling trapped, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I slipped out of bed, but in my weakened state, I lost my balance and fell to the floor. Vincent rushed over to help me up, his face devoid of concern. “Just sit tight and wait for the ambulance. Why are you moving around so much?” I pushed his hand away, my voice icy. “Why don’t you check to see if the ambulance has arrived?” He shot me a glare. “It’ll come when it comes. I don’t need to check.” I retorted, “What if they’re at the door right now? Go see what’s taking so long. It won’t kill you to check!” With a huff of frustration, Vincent stormed out of the room. Seizing the opportunity, I crawled over to the table, grabbed my phone, and dialed my mom. I strained to speak, “Mom, I’m in labor. You and Dad need to get to the hospital ASAP. I’ll be there in a minute.” Before I could hear her response, my strength gave out, and the phone slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor as darkness enveloped me.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in the hospital, having been rushed there by the ambulance. In my previous life, my parents hadn’t been informed, leaving Vincent as the only one by my side during my delivery. Back then, the doctor had informed us that my twins were too large for a natural birth. Vincent had simply replied, “We never planned on a natural delivery anyway. Let’s go straight to a C-section.” The doctor nodded and prepared for the procedure, handing Vincent the consent form for anesthesia. Vincent glanced at the paper and asked, “This is voluntary, right? If I don’t pay for it, you won’t use it?” The doctor paused, taken aback. “What do you mean? There’s no way to skip the anesthesia. This is a C-section! If you don’t use it, she’ll be in excruciating pain. Sign it quickly; we can’t delay the operation.” Vincent, however, tossed the form back at the doctor. “No anesthesia. She’s allergic to it.” The doctor’s disbelief was palpable. “Just sign it. We’ll assess which anesthetic is suitable. It’s impossible for her to be allergic to every single one!” Vincent stood firm. “She’s been tested before; she’s allergic to all anesthetics. If you don’t follow my instructions and something goes wrong, who’s responsible? “If she dies from the pain, it’s a complication of childbirth, not your fault. It’s on her.” The doctor was visibly shocked, likely unable to fathom such a callous statement from a pregnant woman’s husband. As the standoff continued over the consent form, the lead surgeon impatiently took the paper away. “Let the family make the decisions. We can’t make choices for them.” With that, the doctor proceeded to cut open my abdomen, and my screams echoed through the entire floor. At that moment, as my children were pulled from me, I took my last breath. After my death, my children became mere pawns in Vincent’s game, destined to be raised by his mistress, Nancy. From the very start, Vincent had intended for me to die on that operating table to provide her with a family. My spirit floated back home, where I saw Nancy cradling my children in Vincent’s embrace. He held her close, a smile on his face as he said, “Now you can rightfully be my wife. You won’t have to suffer through childbirth, and you can step right into the role of mother.” Snapping back to reality, I vowed that this time would be different. I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. As I lay there in pain, my eyes closed, I could hear my parents’ worried voices approaching. My mother, Miranda Miller, was frantically calling for the doctor, “Hurry! My daughter is in labor! Get her into surgery right away! I want the best doctor available!”

Once the doctors prepared for my surgery, the same situation unfolded as in my previous life—the consent form for anesthesia was needed again. This time, my mother, Miranda, rushed to grab the form, but the doctor stopped her. “You’re the patient’s mother, right? This decision should be made by the husband; he’s the primary guardian.” It was disheartening to realize that my fate rested in the hands of a man who didn’t love me and to whom I had no blood ties. Vincent snatched the form and glanced at it dismissively. “We’re not signing anything. Just go straight to the C-section.” Miranda’s eyes widened in shock. “What did you just say? Not using anesthesia for a C-section will kill her!” Vincent shrugged, unfazed. “Anesthesia isn’t good for the baby. The twins could be exceptional, and I won’t let a little anesthesia ruin that. Lillian can tough it out; she can recover afterward.” Miranda grabbed Vincent’s arm, her voice trembling. “Vincent, how can you be so heartless? Is this how you treat my daughter?” Back then, Vincent had been so attentive. He stood outside in freezing temperatures all night to apologize, and when he caught a fever for three days, he grinned like a child, saying, “Thank you for forgiving me; it was worth it.” I had been so moved that I insisted on marrying him despite my parents’ protests. They didn’t approve of him, but I was blinded by love and ended up arguing with them. Yet after we married, everything changed. Vincent treated me like a housekeeper, neglecting me and often not even coming home to sleep. I never told my parents about the hardships I faced; they had no idea how miserable I was. Miranda wrestled the consent form back, determined to sign it herself. The doctor sighed, caught in the middle, “I understand your concern, but since her husband is here, he must sign.” He handed the form back to Vincent. “Please sign quickly; a C-section without anesthesia could endanger your wife’s life!” If anything, those words seemed to solidify Vincent’s resolve. “I said no signing! How can you not understand? “I know my wife better than anyone. She’s allergic to anesthesia. If anything goes wrong because of it, who’s responsible?” The doctor was taken aback, and Miranda frowned, clearly worried. My father, Ryan Miller, pushed Vincent aside, his voice cold. “How could I not know my daughter is allergic to anesthesia? Are you deliberately trying to make her suffer?” To everyone’s surprise, Vincent pulled out a document proving my allergies to various anesthetics.

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My son, Oliver Harrington, was taken into custody by the police on suspicion of murder. Meanwhile, my husband, Gavin Harrington, was still on the slopes, skiing with his first love, Celeste Reed. This time, I didn’t ask him to come back. In my past life, I had begged him to return. But I never expected that, after he left, Celeste—alone on the slopes—would crash into a rock, suffering multiple fractures and dying before help could arrive. After dealing with her funeral, Gavin came back home, his expression unchanged. He even took us on a ski trip abroad for our wedding anniversary. But in the end, both Oliver and I fell into a trap. I screamed, desperately begging him to save our son, who was barely clinging to life, but Gavin stood there, his teeth clenched, filled with bitter anger. “If it weren’t for you two, she wouldn’t have died. I want you both to burn in hell.” Then, I opened my eyes again and found myself back on the day Oliver was arrested. This time, I let them have their way. I didn’t call him. But somehow, everything seemed to veer off course. ***** “I want to see my dad. If he doesn’t come, I won’t say a word.” Oliver, his emotions boiling over, stepped back, eyes flashing with defiance. Behind him, a crowd had gathered—school officials, police, and a pack of reporters. Just half an hour earlier, a girl had fallen from the roof and died on impact. But what was even worse was the initial coroner’s report—multiple bruises on the victim’s body, evidence of assault. Oliver, who had been at the scene, was now the prime suspect. I pushed through the crowd, desperate to get to him. Even though I had lived through this before, seeing my son standing on the edge again made my legs go weak. “What are you doing standing here? Get Gavin back!” Gavin’s parents arrived, shoving me aside. I barely had time to explain before Gavin’s mom pulled out her phone and dialed. The moment the call connected, it was immediately cut off. Relentlessly, they kept dialing over and over. But all that came through was a cold, mechanical voice. “The number you dialed has been disconnected…” Gavin’s dad slammed his hand on her shoulder. “Quick, call Celeste. Gavin’s with her right now.” I froze, a chill spreading through me. They had known all along—Gavin and Celeste were together. Then Celeste’s soft, sultry voice came through the phone. “Stop it. It’s your mom’s call!” “My mom? What does she want? Probably just Eleanor being jealous again, complaining to my mom.” “Oh, don’t… ah…” The phone dropped, and the unmistakable sound of their passionate kiss filled the line. My stomach twisted in disgust. As Gavin’s mom caught the uncomfortable glances from those around us, she quickly ended their kiss. “Gavin, come to Oliver’s school quickly! He’s about to jump!” After a reluctant separation, Gavin’s voice came through, sharp with irritation. “Mom, are you done? Since when did you become as unreasonable as Eleanor? You’re making up lies just to get me back? Oliver’s jumping? Really?” Then Gavin’s father grabbed the phone, furious. “Gavin Harrington! I’m ordering you—come here now!” “Dad!” Gavin cut him off, his voice cold and final. “Celeste’s birthday is today. I’m not ruining her mood. Whoever jumps today won’t stop me from being with Celeste.” With that, he hung up. The coldness in Gavin’s voice hit me like a punch. I couldn’t stop my whole body from shaking.

In my past life, I had been completely helpless. When I got the call from the school, I nearly passed out. All I could do was hope and pray that Gavin, being a lawyer, would know what to do. Oliver had always idolized him, listening to no one but him since he was little. In the end, I had to threaten divorce and give up custody just to get him to come back. But I never imagined how things would turn out. After Gavin left, Celeste, furious and alone, stayed at the ski resort. She ignored the staff’s pleas and kept skiing, only to crash into a hidden rock. Her spine was dislocated, and she suffered multiple fractures. The resort was remote, and with the heavy snowstorm, help couldn’t get to her in time. Celeste died there. I thought Gavin would blame me and hate me for it. But after arranging her funeral, he came home, his face unreadable, and knelt before me, begging for my forgiveness. He promised he would never leave the family again. I was overjoyed, believing every word. I thought that maybe, just maybe, things were finally turning around. When Gavin suggested a rare wedding anniversary trip, I thought it was a sign of things to come. But I had no idea… He had carefully planned a remote ski trip. He encouraged Oliver, who wasn’t good at skiing, to try the more dangerous areas, and I, in my desperation to save him, fell into the trap with him. Meanwhile, Gavin stood off to the side, indifferent, pouring bucket after bucket of ice water on us as we were trapped with nowhere to escape. In the end, he even released a snake, watching with cold detachment as Oliver and I were consumed by fear and despair. “You killed Celeste. If you hadn’t forced me to come home, she’d still be alive!” I didn’t understand. I pulled Oliver close, shielding him. And I looked at my husband, who looked like a completely different person. “But Oliver is your son too! He needs you! Shouldn’t you be there for him, especially when he needs you most? Doesn’t his life matter more than Celeste’s?” Oliver, trembling with fear, cried out, “Dad…” Gavin kicked an empty bucket down. “I want you both to feel the despair Celeste felt in her final moments. You’ll experience it, just like she did!” Oliver’s body was already turning blue from the cold. Until the end, he couldn’t believe his own father would be the one to kill him. That pain, that raw agony, still gnaws at my soul. On the roof, Oliver’s face was pale as he looked at me. “Doesn’t Dad believe in me anymore?” My heart was in my throat. I quickly tried to reassure him. “Oliver, don’t be afraid. Trust me. As long as we cooperate with the police and tell the truth, you won’t go to jail.” Not only would he not go to jail, but in my past life, Gavin had found a key witness. If we could find that person, Oliver’s innocence would be proven. “Really? You believe I didn’t kill her?” “Of course, Oliver. You’re my son. I know you better than anyone! Even if you had a knife, you wouldn’t use it to hurt anyone.” I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes. I signaled to Officer Lucas Sterling, who nodded in agreement. “Exactly, the police work based on evidence. No one will be wrongly accused. As long as you tell the truth, the law will be fair to everyone.” After a few more words, Oliver finally calmed down and stepped away from the edge. Just as the tension started to ease, a woman, wild-eyed and disheveled, stormed toward us. “Oliver! Why did you kill my daughter?! I’m going to make you pay for this!”

I froze, a jolt of panic hitting me. Without thinking, I stepped in front of Oliver, shielding him. “Why? My daughter never did anything to you! Why did you kill her?” The woman in front of me was covered in blood—her appearance was utterly shocking. But what struck me the most was the look on her face. I knew that face. She was Charlotte Vaughn, the mother of the deceased Serena Vaughn. A sense of dread started gnawing at me. This wasn’t how things went down in my last life. Charlotte gripped my shoulder with bone-crushing force, her eyes filled with rage as they locked on Oliver, who stood by the rooftop edge. “An eye for an eye! Oliver Harrington, I swear I’ll make sure my daughter gets revenge!” Gavin’s mom, unable to watch this, quickly intervened, “Do you even know slander is a crime? The investigation’s not even done, and you’re accusing my grandson of murder? I’ll sue you for this!” She turned to Oliver, a smug look on her face. “Oliver, don’t worry. Your father’s a lawyer—he handles criminal cases all the time. This is nothing for him!” Charlotte, her anger boiling over, snapped back, “You think you’re the only ones who can afford a lawyer?!” Alexander Vaughn stepped in front of his wife, calming her with a reassuring hand. “I’ve already contacted my lawyer. The firm’s taking on the case. They’ve got the best criminal lawyer—never lost a case in this area.” I grabbed Gavin’s mom’s arm, stopping her from continuing. If this kept going, things would spiral completely out of control. I turned to Oliver, who looked terrified, his eyes wide and uncertain. “Oliver, I know you didn’t kill her. You were trying to help her, weren’t you?” He blinked, taken aback. “How do you know that?” “I know she was hurt. You called her up here to the rooftop to protect her, to stop her from being hurt again, right?” I continued, “You thought only your dad could handle this, so you kept pushing him to get involved. But, Oliver, I can help too. Don’t you remember what I used to do for a living?” For the first time, he seemed to wake up, his face softening as he realized. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Alexander’s phone rang. Oliver flinched, recoiling like a trapped animal.   “Hello, is this Mr. Alexander Vaughn?” The voice on the other end of the line made my heart drop. It was Gavin. A cold wave of shock washed over me. Everything felt like it was spinning in a direction I didn’t expect. I looked at Alexander and Charlotte. In my last life, I had only met them in the police station, never like this. It felt like something—or someone—was steering everything toward disaster. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. “Sir, I’ve fully taken over your case. I’ve already reviewed the details. I’m so sorry for your daughter’s death, but don’t worry—I’ll make sure the culprit pays for this. I’ll make sure they get the maximum sentence.” Charlotte yanked the phone from Alexander’s hand, her voice filled with anguish. “I want that killer to die! The person who took my daughter from me—I won’t rest until they’re gone!” On the other end of the line, Gavin’s voice oozed with scorn, completely unabashed. “These kinds of people—society’s filth—I’ll make sure they’re put behind bars for good, even if I don’t take a penny for it!” “Dad!” Oliver spoke up, his voice trembling in disbelief. “What if…” He hesitated, his throat tight. “What if the person is innocent?” Gavin didn’t miss a beat, his voice dripping with superiority. I doubted he ever stopped to think about why his son was the one on the other end of the line. “I’ve already looked into it. The person who pushed Serena has a history of violence—multiple school fights and disciplinary actions. People like that shouldn’t be allowed to walk free. This tragedy is the result of the school turning a blind eye to his behavior!” Fighting? A history of trouble? I could hardly breathe as Gavin’s words sunk in. Ever since Celeste returned, Gavin had brought her on as his secretary, and he’d spent countless hours with her, all while secretly taking her to school meetings. Their behavior had become even more brazen, and it wasn’t long before they were caught in a compromising situation in the school bathroom by another parent. Oliver’s reputation was destroyed, and he was mocked by his classmates. If it weren’t for Gavin’s actions, none of this would’ve happened! How could he sit there and accuse our son of having such a history? Oliver took a step back, his voice barely audible, as if unsure if he even belonged in this conversation. “So, you think this person should die?” Gavin answered almost without thinking. “People like him—sociopaths—they’re a plague on society. The world would be better off without them.” I saw Oliver’s face turn ashen, and I reached out to hang up the phone. But before I could, Alexander intercepted my move, his hand stopping mine. I froze, my heart racing, as I turned to face Oliver. “Oliver, don’t listen to him…” “Mom!” Oliver forced a bitter, pained smile. “I’m sorry.” Before I could react, he jumped. “No!” I ran, my heart pounding in my chest as I sprinted toward the edge of the rooftop.

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My adopted son, Justin Hackett, wanted his biological mother, Sofia Quinn, to drink the wine that his bride offered at the wedding. He persuaded my husband, Zach Hackett, to give me sleeping pills the day before the wedding. The next day, Zach brought Sofia to Justin’s wedding. The three of them hugged each other tightly and shed happy tears. But I could never wake up again because of the overdose of sleeping pills. When I opened my eyes again, Zach brought me another glass of milk. ***** Zach reminded me when he saw that I was reluctant to take the milk. “Baby, drink the milk. Otherwise, you will have insomnia again tonight.” Justin also echoed beside me. “Mom, you have to sleep well tonight so that you can have enough energy to attend my wedding tomorrow.” I took the milk and took a sip with a smile, looking at him. “Okay, I will drink it. Tomorrow is your wedding. I have to be well rested.” An imperceptible smile of success flashed across the corners of Zach and Justin’s lips. I used the excuse that the milk wasn’t sweet enough and went to the kitchen to add sugar. As soon as the door was closed, I poured the milk into the sink with a cold face and turned on the tap to destroy the evidence. In my previous life, it was this glass of milk that made me fall asleep and never wake up again. After death, I regretted not being able to attend Justin’s wedding. My soul floated to the wedding scene. I watched Zach holding Sofia. The three of them were so happy that they burst into tears. After the wedding, Sofia said to Zach, “Being in love with you is the luckiest thing in my life. The only regret is that we can’t be a real family. I’m really jealous of Yvette. She is your legal wife and Justin’s adoptive mother. If you didn’t think of me, I wouldn’t be able to attend Justin’s wedding as his mother.” She became more and more aggrieved and even cried. Zach hurried to coax her. “Yvette is not worthy of being compared with you. She is just my wife in name only. I only have you in my heart. For you and Justin, I secretly had a vasectomy before marrying Yvette. She is not worthy of having my child. I deceived Yvette. She really thought she could not have children. So she transferred all her guilt towards me to Justin. She used the connections of the Stewart family to help us raise an excellent son. I have been acting with her for more than 20 years, and I am tired of her. Now, I am just waiting for her father to die, and then I can completely control the Stewart Group. Then I will divorce Yvette and marry you.” Sofia burst into laughter. Obscene sounds soon rang out in the room. My husband, who treated me with respect, had another woman in his heart. He was just acting with me. My adopted son, I raised with all my heart, was their biological son. They loved each other, and I was the only outsider. More importantly… I touched my lower abdomen with trembling hands. So, the diagnosis was also fake. It wasn’t my fallopian tube that was deformed, but Zach had a vasectomy. At that time, Zach and I had been married for four years, but I hadn’t gotten pregnant yet. I was so anxious that I dragged Zach to the hospital for a checkup. The results showed that my fallopian tubes were deformed on both sides, while Zach was qualified in all aspects. It was my fault that I couldn’t conceive. I was devastated and desperate. I didn’t want to delay Zach, so I proposed a divorce. But he kept saying that he loved me. He said he couldn’t live without me. To keep me, he suggested adopting his distant nephew Justin, whose parents had both passed away. After adopting Justin, I took care of his food, clothing, housing, and transportation and slowly walked out of the shadow of infertility. At that time, I thought that sincerity would be exchanged for sincerity. I was good to Justin, and he would be good to me in the future. But I didn’t expect that he would enjoy my kindness to him while loving his biological parents. How ruthless and vicious Zach was! He pushed me into the abyss of pain and then pretended to be a hero, saving me. He lied to me and made me feel guilty and grateful to him, and then I served and paved the way for his family of three! I sacrificed everything I had while they took advantage of me! Why? Why! The anger and indignation swept over me. My vision went dark, and I was reborn back to today.

I came back to my senses, put the glass away, and walked out of the kitchen. I yawned after watching TV for a few minutes on the sofa. Seeing this, Zach and Justin looked at each other implicitly, with a smile of success. Zach put down the newspaper and said, “It’s getting late. Go to bed now so that you can get up early tomorrow.” I nodded and went back to my room. Yes, my room. Not the room Zach and I shared. After adopting Justin, Zach proposed to sleep in separate rooms with me. He said he was busy with work and would wake me up when he came into the room in the middle of the night. So it was better to sleep in separate rooms to give each other some personal space. At first, I thought Zach wanted to sleep in separate rooms with me because he had another woman outside. Later, I observed him for some time and found that he went between home and work every day. His life was very regular. I knew his colleagues very well, and they would not do anything to destroy other people’s families. So I was relieved. Sleeping in separate rooms was not a big deal as long as it didn’t interfere with our sex life. Now that I thought about it, how could Zach be worried about disturbing my sleep? He clearly wanted to stay away from me and keep his body for the woman he loved! It was ridiculous. We had done everything, but he suddenly remembered to keep his distance from me. What? A man’s chastity was never under his suit pants? I sneered and went to bed early. There was still a “tough battle” to fight the next day. On the next morning, after the door closed, I opened my eyes and got up to wash. To verify the efficacy of sleeping pills, Zach even came to wake me up. He left only after seeing that I was sleeping soundly. I thought, “Humph, you three don’t even think about having a good time today!” Time gradually approached noon. I had a full meal and rushed to the hotel on time. It was very lively along the way. A man watching the show asked me what I was doing. I just smiled and didn’t say anything, which aroused his curiosity. The line was getting longer and longer. When I walked to the door of the hotel, there were already more than a hundred people. The hotel lobby was bustling. The red carpet was laid, the ribbons were flying, and the place was full of guests. The emcee was livening up the atmosphere. He was asking the bride to toast Sofia. I walked onto the stage quickly, took the wine from the bride, and put it aside. “Hey, I haven’t even arrived yet. Who is this wine for?” Sofia’s raised hand froze in the air. She was stunned for a few seconds, then smoothed the hair by her ears and said with relief, “The emcee urged both parents to go on stage to go through the process. Zach said I was Justin’s aunt, so he asked me to take your place temporarily. It’s great that you’re here now, just in time to drink the wine toasted by the bride.” As she said that, she stood up to make room for me. Justin wanted to stop her, but Sofia shook her head gently to signal him not to speak. I ignored Sofia’s careful action, snatched the microphone from the emcee, and signaled him to go down. “Welcome all relatives and friends to attend the wedding of my adopted son Justin. But today is not only his wedding but also a good day for his biological parents to rebound. Please raise your hands to applaud this couple and send the most sincere blessings!” As soon as I finished speaking, two young men who had been waiting for a long time opened the banner, one on the left and one on the right, and presented it to everyone. Everyone’s eyesight was very good, and the hotel was well-lit. The banner was red with large black characters, which was very eye-catching. After seeing the content of the banner clearly, everyone present was shocked. In silence, a little girl of eight or nine years old slowly read it out. “Taking a concubine on behalf of my husband, I sincerely invite Ms. Sofia Quinn to be the first concubine of my husband Zach. Mom, what is a concubine?” The little girl asked innocently with her big eyes. Her mother smiled awkwardly and quickly covered her mouth to prevent her from saying anything shocking again. It was indeed a bit embarrassing, but the mother was curious and obviously didn’t want to miss such a dramatic show. Justin was furious, and his face turned red. He wanted to snatch the banner from the two young men and end this embarrassing farce. It was a pity that I spent two hundred dollars to hire these two young men from the martial arts gym. They were tall, strong, and powerful. A weak guy like Justin couldn’t do anything to them. He could only yell at me, “Mom, what are you fussing about? I just asked Aunt Sofia to take a glass of wine for you. Do you have to make such a fuss? Do you have to ruin my wedding?”

Justin asked me in a low voice with red eyes as if he had been greatly wronged. I sneered secretly. Who could be more wronged than me? I worked so hard to take care of their son for Sofia for twenty years, but in the end, Zach gave me sleeping pills and killed me. They plotted against me. Shouldn’t I be allowed to take revenge? I raised my hand and slapped Justin twice, making him stunned. “Who is your mom? You know who your mom is. I’m not your mom. This person, whom you keep calling Aunt Sofia, is your real mother. And your adoptive father Zach is your real father. You know their relationship very well. Otherwise, you would not have instigated your father to give me sleeping pills and then brought your mother to the wedding. Zach, Sofia, you two are shameless! All these years, you played cousins in front of me and were lovers behind my back. Isn’t that exciting?” My every word was transmitted to every corner of the hotel lobby through the microphone, like a drop of water falling into a hot oil pan, stirring up a heated discussion. “What a complicated relationship. His aunt is his real mother, and his adoptive father is his real father. Only his adoptive mother has been an outsider from the beginning.” “A husband who has cheated for many years. A scheming adopted son. A shameless mistress. A wife who has been deceived for many years. Such a miserable legal wife.” “Oh my God. I didn’t come to this wedding for nothing. When I go home, I will be the focus of the intelligence center!” ***** The guests in the audience whispered to each other. They stole a glance at the situation on the stage, and knowing smiles rose on their faces. Sofia was extremely panicked. She relied on Zach’s true love and never took me, his legal wife, seriously. No one knew that she had an affair with Zach in private. Now that she was exposed as a mistress, and so many people knew about it. Those eyes fell on her like needles, piercing her so much that she wanted to die. She finally learned what “people’s words are scary” meant. Sofia was extremely ashamed and angry. She hurriedly hid behind Zach to avoid those stares. The upper half of her face appeared behind Zach’s shoulder, with tears in her eyes, making people feel sorry for her. “Yvette, I didn’t mean to destroy your marriage with Zach. Back then, I wanted to break up with Zach and leave, but Zach brought Justin to the train station to keep me. Justin hugged my legs and called me Mom, begging me not to leave. He cried so hard. He is my son. How could I not feel sorry for him? “So I agreed to stay and pretend that Zach was my cousin. I just wanted to watch Justin grow up. I told Zach that you were his lifelong wife and asked him to forget me. But love made us unable to help ourselves. When we were deeply in love, I could not care about anything else. Just like that, we loved each other and stayed together for many years. “I thought I was hiding it from you for your own good, but I didn’t expect that I still hurt you. Everything is my fault. I was shameless and destroyed your family. If you want to blame someone, blame me, not Justin. You have raised him for twenty years. Can you bear to ruin his wedding?” As Sofia narrated, sweetness, pain, entanglement, relief, and other emotions alternated on her face. Finally, regret and begging. Seeing that I was unmoved, her eyes darkened. She rushed out and knelt at my feet, slapping herself in the face. “It’s all my fault. I am shameless. It’s all my fault…” Her well-maintained cheeks were soon covered with bright red slap marks. Zach held Sofia’s hand and looked at me hatefully. “Sofia, don’t hurt yourself. Yvette is very cruel. Even if you smash your face, she won’t let it go.” Justin left the helpless bride, with only his real mother in his eyes and heart. “Mom, my dad is right. Don’t hurt yourself anymore. You just love my dad. You were even willing to give up so much for me and my dad. Those people only sympathize with Yvette. Who can you complain to for your grievances?” Sofia was very moved. The man she loved and her son were on her side. But the bride didn’t think so. She was shocked and stunned. She took a few steps back. Obviously, she couldn’t accept such a worldview. I walked over to comfort her and said, “Miss, a blessed person does not deserve an unblessed family. How about you not get married?”

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At three months pregnant, I was left behind on a sinking cruise ship by my husband, Damon Hunt. The reason? Elena Hart screamed that she was afraid of water. I begged him to save me and the baby, but he shoved me off the lifeboat, coldly saying, “You can swim, right? You’ll be fine!” After being rescued from the ocean, I lost the baby and had to undergo surgery, but I couldn’t get Damon to sign the consent forms. As I scrolled through social media, I saw Elena’s post on Instagram. Elena: [True love shows in times of crisis, Damon.] The photo showed them wrapped in the same blanket, drenched and barely clothed. Once I recovered and was discharged from the hospital, I drove straight to the plain. Damon, who hadn’t contacted me in over a month, suddenly bombarded me with calls. “Lillian, the wedding dress is ready. Are we still getting married?” After leaving the car convoy, I turned on my spare phone and saw over a hundred missed calls from Damon. I picked up the phone, and Damon, barely holding back his frustration, demanded, “Lillian, where have you been? I couldn’t reach you by phone, and you didn’t reply to any of my messages. My parents have been reminding you to try on the wedding dress, but you’ve gone completely off the radar. Are you still planning on getting married or not?” I glanced at the divorce papers I had already signed. “I guess we’re not getting married.” “What’s wrong with you? You were the one who said we should just register and not have a ceremony. The invitations have already been sent. Now you’re backing out?” There was noise in the background. A sweet female voice was soothing him. His tone softened. “Wait for me. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go try on the wedding dress.” The wedding dress was custom-made, and it was the most expensive element of our minimalist wedding. I had imagined countless times walking down the aisle, wearing the most beautiful dress, with all of our friends and family watching, marrying him. But now, I didn’t care anymore. Damon had upgraded his car—a bold royal blue that screamed attention. Sitting in the passenger seat, the sun was blinding. I pulled down the visor, only to see lipstick marks on the mirror—Damon loves Elena. Damon suddenly explained, “I swapped out the car. The old one was too cheap. It didn’t match my status.” That was the birthday gift I had scrimped and saved for. From the car’s color to the interior, everything had been carefully chosen by me. Just like me, the car was discarded. We stopped outside the bridal shop, but I didn’t get out. “Why here? I thought I booked at another one.” Damon dragged me out of the car. “A friend recommended this one. She said it’s better.” I always loved silk wedding dresses, but this store was filled with dramatic, puffy gowns. Despite already choosing my wedding dress, I was being forced to change my plans because of Elena’s preferences. A shop assistant guided me toward the fitting room. The dress fit, but it didn’t suit me at all. It felt as mismatched as Damon and I had become. Damon looked at me, but the only time I saw real admiration in his eyes was for the dress. I knew he wasn’t thinking of me. He was imagining Elena wearing it. “This one,” he declared without hesitation. I silently allowed him to lead me out of the store. Once in the car, he asked, “Why the long face? You’ve been to the plain, had some fun, and you’re still upset? Just because of a small thing, are you going to hold a grudge?” During last month’s cruise, when the ship was sinking after hitting a reef, Damon had pushed me off the lifeboat. It was all because Elena was afraid of water, and I had learned to swim years ago. I lost the baby, and he found his true love. He had almost completely forgotten about that day. When I stayed silent, he began lecturing me. “Why did you have to go to the plain? You’re pregnant, and you’re not in your twenties anymore. Shouldn’t you be more responsible? Now that you’re a mom, you need to be more stable. The baby is your responsibility now.” I shot back. “And this baby isn’t yours? Did you think about that responsibility when you shoved me off the lifeboat?” Damon turned his face away. “Stop trying to turn this into something it’s not. Go get checked out. Make sure everything’s alright with the baby.” Looking up, I saw that we had arrived at the OB/GYN. The doctor who performed the procedure looked worried. “Didn’t you just have an abortion last month? Is something wrong?”

Damon, who had been lazily scrolling through his phone, froze. “An abortion? Lillian, you had an abortion without telling me? When did this happen?” The waiting room was crowded, and all eyes were on us. I remembered two months ago, when we first found out I was pregnant. Damon had spun me around in joy, right there in the same hospital. We hadn’t been financially well-off when we first got married. We’d registered but hadn’t had a wedding ceremony. It wasn’t until I got pregnant and our financial situation improved that I suggested having a wedding. Damon couldn’t wait to make it happen. But now, his indifference tore at me. In those two months, he’d found true love, while I was drowning in heartbreak. Someone came over to mediate, and Damon frowned, pulling me into a stairwell. “June 3rd.” I looked up, noticing the anger on his face had frozen. That was the day the cruise ship had sunk, and I had been left stranded in the freezing ocean for five hours before being rescued. Meanwhile, Damon was already in Elena’s arms, confessing his love. Damon’s voice softened. “Have you had your check-up after the surgery? You went through a lot, and you didn’t even tell me. Running off to the plain without resting properly.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go get you checked out. We need to make sure there are no aftereffects. And don’t worry. We’ll have more babies in the future.” His phone rang, and a love song played from the speakers. Damon had always used basic ringtones—except when it came to Elena. For her, he’d make everything feel special. On the other end of the line, Elena was playfully whining. “Are you free today? I’ve been thinking about it. That cruise accident was so scary. I need to learn to swim for my own safety. Will you be my personal instructor? I’ve always been afraid of water, but I trust you.” Damon smiled, oblivious to my presence, clearly enjoying the attention. He hung up, glanced at me, and his expression hardened. “If it weren’t for your miscarriage, we wouldn’t have all this trouble. Let’s skip the check-up today. I’ve got something urgent. You can come again with my mom instead.” He rushed off without another word. I walked out, facing the pitying stares of everyone in the lobby. I hailed a cab. It was July, and the heat felt suffocating, thick and oppressive. It was like drowning in the sea—my heart was heavy with pain, but I couldn’t bring myself to cry. Back home, Damon’s mother called, her voice stern. “Lillian, I heard about the miscarriage. It’s your fault. I’ll take you for a check-up in a couple of days. Hope it won’t affect your future fertility.” I didn’t respond. Her voice softened slightly. “Lillian, you’ve been without parents your whole life. My husband and I have treated you like our own daughter. Don’t take this the wrong way, but losing one child isn’t the end of the world. Life goes on. I’m just worried about your health. If you can have kids, the family will have a future.” I had once believed her when she acted like a mother to me, thinking that marrying Damon would give me the family I’d always wanted. Now, I saw through her—it was all about controlling my womb. “Tomorrow, I’ve invited someone to come over and hold a memorial for the child. Damon should come too. A lost child is gone, but your relationship with Damon must continue.” I turned off the backup phone, not bothering to listen anymore. I stopped feeling the pain.

It had been a whole day without food, and as I lay in bed, my stomach twisted with sharp, cramping pain. I thought about getting up to grab something to eat, but the thought of food only made me feel nauseous. This house, with every corner filled with his presence, made me sick to my stomach. I could almost feel him there in the silence, his shadow looming everywhere. As a wave of dizziness and cold sweat washed over me, I opened my phone, hoping to order some medicine. Instead, I saw that Elena had posted on Instagram again, even going so far as to send me a screenshot. She made sure I saw it before quickly deleting the message. She made sure I saw it before quickly deleting the message. Elena: [Damon is my swimming instructor today!] The picture showed a crystal-clear pool, with Elena in a bikini, her selfie framed perfectly—except for one detail. She was sitting on Damon’s lap. Damon didn’t show his face, but the tattoo on his abs was unmistakable. It was my initials—once a symbol of our love. A sudden wave of nausea hit me as the pain in my stomach intensified, and I threw my phone onto the bed. I didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually, I managed to calm down enough to get up. As I walked toward the door, I heard Damon returning home. He was upstairs, chatting with Elena on a video call. His voice was soft and tender, full of affection. “Next month, I’m going to Brighton for work. Will you come with me?” Elena laughed, “Of course, I’ll come. We need to leave a trace of our love everywhere.” I leaned back against the door, curling up into myself. No one wanted to give up on someone they truly loved. But when silence and heartache piled up, sometimes it was time to let go, no matter how painful it was. Once upon a time, Damon and I had supported each other through thick and thin—two interns just starting at the company, and now, department directors. We’d seen the harbor view at 4 AM, worked overtime for half a year, delayed, and finally canceled our wedding—all for the sake of a big project. During the toughest, most exhausting days, we would prepare lunch for each other, and when we finally found the time to eat, the food would already be spoiled. We comforted each other, promising that once we succeeded, we’d go on that trip to the plain. But in the end, I was the only one who went. I searched through the ashes of love, but there was no spark left. That night, I was woken up by a strange sound. Damon’s mother had really gone through with the ritual. She had even set up a small altar for the unborn child. Damon had been ordered to keep watch, his head lowered as he tapped away at his phone. When I walked closer, I saw he was chatting with Elena. Damon: [My mom is overreacting!] Damon: [It’s just a dead baby—didn’t even have a name, just a tiny embryo. Why should I keep watch for something like that?] Damon: [It’s not like Lillian died.] Damon: [Remember that hot spring I promised you yesterday? We’ll have to go next time.] I turned and went back to my room, opening the company’s system to submit my resignation. I had never liked Harborview, but it had been Damon’s home, and I had stayed here for many years. But no matter how long I’d been here, I always felt like an outsider. Now, I was determined to start fresh. It was time to leave.   The next day, I went to the office to officially resign. As luck would have it, I ran into Elena delivering lunch to Damon. “Fired?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with challenge. “Serves you right! I told Damon ages ago that IT isn’t a field for women. You have been in the company for so many years, now you’re leaving!” She patted me on the shoulder. “Lillian, love is the same way. If it’s not right, no matter how many years you’re married, it’ll eventually end. Besides, who really knows you were even married?” I pushed her hand away and walked straight for the door. She thought I didn’t know about her and Damon sneaking around on the company rooftop over the past couple of months. After a 2 PM lunch break, whenever she brought Damon lunch, they’d stay up there together until almost 4 PM before returning to work. Damon was the vice director of the marketing department, often traveling for business, which meant he wasn’t in the office much. He was also rarely at home, most likely spending his time with Elena. But from now on, he wouldn’t be that leisurely. When I handed in my resignation, Margaret Whitmore, my boss, shared her thoughts in a heartfelt conversation. The message was clear. She was getting Damon out of the company. I had been a key player in the R&D department. Our relationship had made it difficult to put Damon in a tight spot, but now that I was leaving, his position could be filled by someone else. Margaret said, “Ms. Westwood’s son just graduated and returned from abroad. She’s considering letting him take over as director.” I nodded. “Sounds good to me.” As I walked out the door, it was nearly noon when Damon finally rushed into clock in. When he saw me holding a box, his confusion turned to realization. “Well, that’s good. We’ll have the wedding this Sunday. There’s no need for you to work anymore. It’ll be easier on you,” he said. Elena, standing behind him, spoke with a familiar tone. “What, do you look down on career women?” She was a makeup artist, always traveling, always on the go. I knew, for a fact, that on at least four separate occasions, Damon had claimed to be on a business trip when in reality, he was traveling with her. Throughout our entire marriage, the only trip we ever took together was the cruise. We had always talked about going to the grasslands, but it kept getting pushed back. But that time, when I suggested the cruise, Damon didn’t refuse. It was only because Elena was with us. I glanced up, and Damon’s smile was as bright as it had been during the early days of our love. “Elena, you know it’s not the same between you two.” His tenderness had long since belonged to someone else. When my colleagues threw me a farewell party, I declined. I quietly slipped away, and it only confirmed Damon’s belief. He thought I couldn’t hack it in the industry anymore. After losing the baby, I was disheartened and ready to give up my career to become a housewife. He brushed past me without a second glance and said, “After the wedding, I’ll give you everything you want. Enough with the tantrums.” I smiled, “Fine, no more tantrums from me.” And I meant it. I didn’t need him anymore. “Damon, let’s get a divorce.”

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My name was Emma Cruise. Ever since Hannah Gellar passed away, my husband, Barry Gellar, had been a shadow of his former self. Day and night, he wore headphones, drowning himself in the seven recordings Hannah left behind. He even needed those recordings to fall asleep. Worried about how this obsession might consume him, I decided to hide the recordings. But that only escalated the situation. In his desperation, my husband resorted to extreme measures, coercing me with every mean and ugly thing he could think of. “Those recordings are the only thing Hannah left me! Who do you think you are, taking them away, you worthless bitch?” It hurt, but the pain didn’t end there. Our son Felix Gellar, who I raised with such care, looked at me with icy disdain. “It’s clear you’re twisted in your ways. You don’t deserve to be my mother!” They were both mistaken, clueless about the truth. The woman they believed was dead was actually living abroad, creating a new life and a new family. In this new life, I vowed to deliver the recording to them myself—straight into the ears of both father and son. ***** The gaunt figure before me gripped my throat tightly, his bloodshot eyes boring into mine with a ferocity that sent chills down my spine. “Emma! Give me back my Hannah! “Who do you think you are? What makes you think you have any right to touch the things Hannah left for me? Have I been too good to you all these years, letting it go to your head?” The pressure around my neck made it hard to breathe, and I struggled helplessly as he let out a cruel laugh before throwing me to the ground. “I’m warning you for the last time—hand over those recordings!” Coughing violently, I clutched my throat, gasping for air until the cool rush filled my lungs and brought me back to life. The servants stood around us, their expressions blank, heads bowed, and mouths shut tight. Not one of them dared to step forward to help me. I forced myself to look up, and for a moment, I was taken aback by the familiar face of the man I once loved. I couldn’t believe it—I had been reborn. In the world of the elite, everyone knew the Gellar family patriarch, Barry, had a stepsister. They grew up together, inseparable, their bond unbreakable. But the weight of family expectations crushed Barry when he couldn’t reciprocate her feelings, blaming it on me for preventing their love from being acknowledged. The proud princess of the Gellar family couldn’t handle the rejection and soon fell ill, passing away too soon. All that remained were those seven recordings, supposedly meant to help Barry navigate his grief and find hope again. Each year, like clockwork, someone would play them for him, never missing a beat. Even after I married Barry, I could sense his lingering attachment to that “deceased” sister. He would listen to her voice, trapped in the past, unable to let go. I knew I could never compete with a ghost, and guilt over Hannah’s death weighed heavily on me. So, for years, I kept my head down, carefully tending to both father and son, even as they hurled insults and abuse my way. I never once considered leaving. But those recordings, delivered year after year, dragged Barry deeper into despair, tormenting him until he was a shell of his former self, sleepless and desperate for relief. In my past life, I couldn’t bear to watch him suffer anymore. I bought the remaining recordings, cutting off the source of his pain. What I didn’t expect was for Barry to go to such lengths to find me, resorting to all kinds of torture to force me to hand over the last of the tapes. I was on the brink of collapse, begging for mercy, but he turned a deaf ear and only intensified his cruelty. When I finally relented and handed over the recordings, he tossed me into the slums, watching coldly as a horde of homeless people tormented me to death. “This is what we owe to Hannah. We all deserve this, don’t we?” His icy gaze sent a shiver down my spine, but I reminded myself—I was back, and this time, things would be different. In my previous life, I only discovered after my death that Hannah was never truly gone. She had faked her death and moved abroad, starting a new life, getting married, and having children. It was only after my demise that she returned, pretending to have amnesia, ready to reclaim my child and rekindle her romance with Barry, all while inheriting a fortune. Now that I had a second chance, I was determined to deliver those recordings personally to their ears. Just thinking about that seventh recording made me smile, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of anticipation.

Seeing me crumpled on the floor, Felix approached with a frown, his gaze dripping with scorn. “Mom, if I hadn’t followed you these past few days, I wouldn’t have discovered just how malicious you really are! “Ms. Hannah Gellar is dead. Why can’t you just let her last recording rest? Do you have to be so petty, letting me down like this?” His words hit me squarely. In the past, I might have argued back, but this time around, I had learned to let go. They were just two ungrateful wretches; no matter how well I treated them, they would always fawn over Hannah. With red-rimmed eyes, Felix went to his father, tugging at Barry’s sleeve with a pitiful expression. “Dad, I miss Ms. Hannah Gellar.” Barry closed his eyes for a moment, his trembling hand reaching to pat Felix’s head. “Emma, I’m giving you one last chance…” Before he could finish, I let out a scoff. “Fine, I’ll give it back to you.” Clearly taken aback by my unexpected compliance, Barry stared at me, his expression a mix of confusion and suspicion. “Emma, don’t pull any tricks. Otherwise, you’ll regret it.” I rolled my eyes, completely unfazed by his threat. After all, in my previous life, he had tortured me without a second thought. To him, I was merely an inconvenience, and this time, I wanted nothing more than to distance myself from him. The bond we once shared had vanished the moment he had someone humiliate me. All that was left was a simmering hatred. To ease his worries, I pulled out the recording pen and pressed play. In an instant, a soft, tearful voice filled the air. “Barry, it’s been six years since I left you. Have you been eating well every day? I… I miss you so much… “Barry, even though I’m gone, you have to… live well. Ahem… I will always love you and Felix…” Her voice was weak, punctuated by heart-wrenching coughs, making her sound utterly pitiful. Each word was a dagger aimed at Barry, who stood frozen, tears streaming down his face. Anyone would think Hannah was still his wife. Felix wiped his eyes and, almost unconsciously, called out, “Sister…” Watching the two of them, so alike in their infatuation, I couldn’t help but smirk. Once the recording ended, it was as if Barry had been drained of all energy. He staggered slightly. It made sense; this was the sixth recording, and only one remained. I had long wondered why Hannah insisted on leaving behind those seven recordings. If she truly wanted Barry to live well, she wouldn’t torment him with them every year. Back then, I naively believed Hannah wanted to help him out of his sorrow. But now, it was clear—she wanted to be the unforgettable woman in Barry’s heart. No one knew Hannah better than I did. After failing to win against me, she resorted to these underhanded tactics to reclaim her place, regardless of how many people would get hurt along the way. As long as she achieved her goal, it would all be worth it to her. I smiled sweetly as I pulled out another recording pen. “Barry, would you like to hear the last recording she left for you?”

Barry couldn’t possibly resist the urge to listen, but I wasn’t about to make it easy for him. “What’s your price? Whatever you want, I’ll agree to it! Emma, please, that recording means everything to me. Just give it to me!” I gave the recording pen a little shake, letting it tap against the cup with a sharp, clear sound. If I loosened my grip even slightly, it would plunge into the water. Barry hesitated, rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the pen in my hand. He had always been cold and dignified, but now, a mere recording had forced him to lower his guard. I couldn’t help but find it amusing, glancing at Felix, who was puffed up with indignation. After carrying him for nine months and raising him for thirteen years, it seemed my efforts paled in comparison to the carefree time Hannah had spent with him. If that was the case, I had no intention of bending over backward to please them any longer. I said, “Alright, but I want a divorce.” Barry’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief as he looked at me. “Emma, are you out of your mind? Do you even hear what you’re saying? Don’t use this to threaten me; it’s ridiculous!” Felix shook his head, adding, “Mom, you’re not a child anymore. You should know better.” I ignored their protests. I had been the responsible one for far too long, and it hadn’t saved me from their cruelty in my past life. As I tilted my wrist down, letting the recording pen near the water’s surface, Barry finally realized I was serious. After a brief moment of hesitation, he relented. “I’ll agree to it!” His words were a relief. “Great. So, we’ll split the assets evenly after the divorce. You won’t mind that, right?” Since Hannah’s death, Barry had been in a downward spiral, losing interest in the business. If it weren’t for me, the Gellar family wouldn’t have achieved what it had over the years. It was only fair that I took my share. To my surprise, Barry quickly agreed. To ensure he wouldn’t backtrack, I had a divorce agreement drafted and signed on the spot. Felix chimed in coldly from the side, “Mom, even if you divorce Dad, I’m sticking with him. Following a woman like you, who craves vanity, is just disgusting!” My hand paused mid-signature as I looked at him, momentarily confused. Felix thought he had figured me out, but before he could gloat, I feigned a sudden realization. I shrugged. “Oh, I almost forgot about you. “But honestly, I never planned on keeping you.” Felix, still just a kid, couldn’t hide his feelings, and his eyes turned red with anger. With the divorce agreement in hand, I tossed the recording pen to Barry. He caught it gingerly, as if it were a rare treasure. Watching him and Felix huddle together, I saw Barry’s trembling hands as he opened the pen, and Hannah’s sweet voice emerged. “Barry, if you still think of me seven years from now, come visit this place.” The recording continued, revealing the address of a luxurious estate abroad.

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Adam West and Patrick West’s assistant, Audrey Crawford, suffered from aplastic anemia. To ensure that she had a blood supply available in the future, the two brothers had me, who had the same blood type as Audrey, donate blood to her for a week. After a week, Audrey brought a glass of orange juice to me. I slapped it out of her hand and insisted on leaving West Mansion. Adam and Patrick did not stop me. “Is it really that serious? Just drinking a glass of orange juice,” they asked. ***** I did not look back as I walked out of West Mansion. After a week of continuous blood donations, my steps became unstable the moment I left the house. Behind me, Patrick remarked, “You’re such a good actress. How much blood did you donate?” I understood at that moment that I was utterly weak. I stood still, holding onto a tree nearby. Adam said, “Considering you donated blood for Audrey, you can still turn back. If you do, we won’t hold it against you for knocking over Audrey’s orange juice.” But he seemed to have forgotten that I was allergic to orange juice. When my parents went to Briden to start a business, they were worried about me being unable to take care of my health. Thus, they sent me to live with Gary West, my father’s old friend. Once, I had some orange juice and got allergic all over. Adam held me and rushed me to the hospital immediately. Patrick had banned any oranges from the house ever since then. When I was hospitalized, others joked that I had two young boyfriends. But Patrick explained seriously, “Charlotte is a princess. A princess should have knights and princes by her side.” Adam nodded in agreement. As time went on, I became more reluctant to leave Seabay, unwilling to go to a place without Patrick and Adam. But now, seeing the two of them gently comforting Audrey, I bit down the discomfort and took a taxi. In the car, I touched the needle marks and bruises on my arm from the blood donation. I checked the calendar on my phone and then called my mother. “Mom, I want to go to Briden. Does our marriage contract with the Wilson family still stand?” It was time to let go of everything in Seabay. The childhood promises with my playmates could no longer be taken seriously.

After leaving West Mansion, I had nowhere else to go, so I returned to my old house. But Adam, Patrick, and Audrey still came to visit. Audrey wanted to thank me. I sneered inwardly. The maid at West Mansion had already informed her that I was allergic to orange juice, but she still handed me a glass of it. Now she wanted to thank me? When Audrey saw me, she shrank back like a frightened rabbit. Patrick frowned and scolded, “Charlotte, that’s enough. Stop scaring Audrey with that long face.” If this were the past, he would have pulled out my favorite dessert like magic, grinning and saying, “Lotte is magnanimous. Don’t mind this, okay?” But now, it seemed like he hadn’t even noticed my pale face from giving so much blood. “Audrey is here to apologize, Charlotte. Don’t hold a grudge against her. Don’t be so ungrateful and rude,” Patrick said. I coldly looked at Patrick and said, “Please leave my house.” Patrick’s expression instantly changed. He didn’t expect me, the usually obedient and understanding Charlotte, to act so cold. “It’s all my fault, Lotte. If you’re upset, take it out on me. Don’t take it out on Patrick,” Audrey said, her eyes misty with tears. It seemed like she had suffered some great injustice. But who was the one truly wronged? When I had a fever, Adam made me cook for Audrey. On a trip to the mountains, Adam and Patrick left me alone on a lonely mountain road to pick Audrey up from work. When Audrey fainted at work, Adam and Patrick forced me to donate blood for three days, just to ensure Audrey would have blood available in the future in case she fainted again. I had paid back my debt to the West family with seven days of scorching hot blood. From now on, there would be no more debt. With that thought, I dragged my weakened body to open the drawer beside my bed. Inside was the bracelet Adam had bought for me after winning his first case. He had said I was his lucky star. There were also the many heartfelt drawings that Patrick had made of my face. I threw all these things, which I had once cherished, into a bag at my feet, one by one. Each of them, just like Adam and Patrick, would disappear from my world. Patrick widened his eyes in disbelief and said, “Charlotte, have you gone mad? These are my drawings for you!” Adam pushed up his glasses and disapprovingly said, “Charlotte, can you stop acting like a child?” Patrick muttered in complaint, “Unbelievable! She threw my drawings out like trash.” I pushed Audrey, who was standing in the doorway, and threw everything outside. They were about to come forward to pick it all up when Audrey’s soft voice interrupted. “My ankle, I think I sprained it.” Adam and Patrick’s eyes immediately fixed on the delicate girl, whose voice was filled with pain. I and all the memories we once shared were now selectively ignored by them. I curled my lips into a self-deprecating smile. It shouldn’t have been me who was trapped in the past. They anxiously asked Audrey about her injury, and Audrey, feigning pain, said softly, “Don’t blame Lotte. She didn’t mean to push me.” Upon hearing this, Patrick clenched his fists. He looked at me, displeased, and shouted, “Charlotte, apologize to Audrey immediately.” I stood frozen in place, my nails digging into my palm, blood seeping from the punctures. Seeing that I wouldn’t apologize, Adam kicked the bag I had just packed down the stairs. “Charlotte, I’ll sue you for intentional injury!” So this was the sharp-tongued, ruthless lawyer I once knew. I never imagined that one day, this cold, heartless side of him would be directed at me. I laughed and replied, “Sure, go ahead and sue me.”

I turned and walked away, unwilling to get entangled with them any longer. “Charlotte, where are you going?” Patrick’s voice, tinged with anxiety, came from behind me. I didn’t look back and replied, “Mrs. West said she missed me yesterday.” When I arrived at West Mansion, Scarlett West was startled by my pale face. “Patrick is always careless, but why didn’t Adam even send you here?” Scarlett had always kept me close since I was a child. She used to tease Patrick and Adam, saying, “Let’s see who can marry Charlotte.” But now, I no longer had that shy anticipation of the past. I calmly replied, “They’re busy. It’s normal for them to have their own things to deal with.” Scarlett furrowed her brows and gently touched my pale face. “Did those two scoundrels bully you? I’ll teach them a lesson for you!” I shook my head and smiled, “Mrs. West, there’s no need for that. I’ll be settling in with my parents soon.” Scarlett hugged my shoulders, sighing helplessly. “Charlotte, I don’t know what happened, but for you to have made the decision to leave, it must be those two bastards’ fault.” I leaned my head against her shoulder, drawing warmth from it. “Don’t tell Patrick or Adam. The jokes we made when we were young should never have been taken seriously.” Scarlett took a deep breath, looking at me with a helpless expression. “I’ll keep it a secret. But don’t forget to tell me before you leave.” At that moment, Patrick and Audrey entered, hand in hand, with confused expressions. “Who’s leaving? Where are they going?” I glanced briefly at their intertwined hands and lowered my head in silence. Scarlett looked at them with an unamused expression. “Charlotte’s going on a trip in a few days. By the way, don’t just bring anyone home.” She patted my hand. “Charlotte, I’ll go get some fruit. Just sit here; this is your home.” Patrick, who had been a bit anxious, visibly relaxed. “You said before that you wanted to see the aurora. When did you make the plans?” Adam loosened his tie and added, “Why didn’t you call Patrick and me along? We can bring Audrey too.” Noticing I wasn’t saying anything, Audrey whined and shook Patrick’s arm, her expression playful. “Lotte doesn’t like me, so don’t make things difficult for her.” She attempted to link arms with me, but I quickly pulled away, disgusted by her little trick. Audrey stumbled forward due to the force of her movement. There was a thick rug on the floor, yet she pretended to be delicate, clutching her leg and curling up on the ground. “Charlotte, you dare bully Audrey in our place?” I was violently shoved by Patrick, and my lower back hit the corner of the table. A sharp pain shot through my body. Cold sweat dripped from my forehead as I trembled uncontrollably. But Adam looked at me with disgust. “Stop pretending. You injured Audrey and now act like the victim.” I rubbed my ear, unable to believe what I was hearing. The two guys, who were always so perceptive, couldn’t even see through Audrey’s clumsy act. Their eyes and hearts had long since sided with Audrey. When they loved someone, they’d instinctively protect that person. Patrick hurriedly surrounded Audrey, anxiously asking if she was in pain. Adam picked Audrey up and rushed toward the door. As they passed me, Adam, without caring that I was unsteady on my feet from the collision, coldly said, “Don’t think about hurting Audrey again.” I met Audrey’s mocking gaze and laughed through clenched teeth. The one who was truly hurt was me. But thankfully, we would never have a next time. Leaving as soon as possible was the best decision I had ever made.   After getting my back treated at the hospital, I returned to West Mansion to pick up my forgotten passport. But the lock, which had been set with my birthday as the password, prompted an error. As Adam carried Audrey out of the car with a pained expression, I was curled up in a corner. Patrick sneered with a gloomy expression, “You came back again to play the pitiful act? Audrey’s kind-hearted and forgave you. If you want to stay here, stop thinking of bullying her.” Once my protectors, Patrick and Adam now warned me for someone else. Seeing me look at them coldly, Patrick’s eyes flickered with a hint of unease. “Charlotte, why are you looking at me like that? If you want to come back, just say it.” Audrey playfully patted Patrick’s arm and said, “Patrick, don’t be so harsh. You’re scaring Lotte. “By the way, Lotte, I twisted my ankle. Patrick asked me to stay here for a while. You won’t mind, will you? I’ve ordered a cake from the dessert shop you own. Let’s have a nice gathering.” Adam nodded and raised his chin toward me. “Charlotte, go get the cake. Audrey is trying to make amends with you. Don’t be so petty.” The cake Audrey had specially ordered was indeed enormous. The fondant little girl on top was surrounded by two boys. Ironically, the little girl’s curly hair looked just like Audrey’s. I stared at the cake for a while, a faint smile on my lips, but my heart felt completely still. I no longer felt any sadness from Patrick and Adam’s favoritism toward Audrey. Instead, I found myself wishing for the three of them to always remain happy together and never disturb my life again. I held the large cake and walked toward the cold storage door, but Audrey appeared with a smile on her face. “Lotte, you used to get along so well with Patrick and Adam, didn’t you?” Noticing the smugness in the corners of her eyes, I tried to leave. But Audrey raised an eyebrow and shoved me back into the cold storage. She slammed the door shut, and I could only watch the cake shatter into pieces on the floor. Patrick and Adam rushed in, and upon seeing the cream-covered floor and Audrey still crying, their faces grew even angrier. The temperature in the cold storage felt like ice arrows and could pierce through me. I trembled uncontrollably, trying to gather warmth by hugging my body. I once fell into a lake while ice skating, and since then, I couldn’t stand the cold. During that illness, Patrick had stayed by my bedside and cared for me day and night. Adam had found a famous doctor to treat me. They knew I couldn’t get cold, but now, not a single one of them cared that I was still locked in the cold storage. Adam’s voice, filled with suppressed anger, came through. “Charlotte, this is too much! This cake was designed by Audrey with great care.” Patrick, busy comforting the crying Audrey, didn’t have time to care about me. I was so frozen that I could barely speak. My body shook uncontrollably. I took a deep breath, and my teeth bit into my lip until it bled, just to make myself speak, “It’s really cold in here. Let me out.” Adam’s indifferent voice came from outside. “Apologize to Audrey first, or you can stay in there!” My lips had turned purple from the cold, and my throat felt like it was pierced by icy blades. Every breath I took was painfully sharp. How ridiculous. I had to beg to be freed from this place. And the ones who put me here were the two people I once thought I would spend the rest of my life with. The one I should apologize to was myself. I should have left when Audrey first appeared. I shouldn’t have continued hoping that Patrick and Adam would ever stand by me when they kept favoring her. I looked at the decorative piece in the corner, covered with satin. I suddenly pulled it away. Inside was an ice sculpture of Audrey, painstakingly carved by Patrick himself. I sneered, and despite my trembling hands, I threw the sculpture to the ground. The crisp sound of shattering echoed through the room. The door was hurriedly opened, and Patrick rushed in with a frantic expression. “Charlotte, what the hell are you doing? Do you have any idea what this is? I made this for Audrey!” I forced myself to suppress the trembling and ran upstairs, hastily throwing my documents into my bag. In a daze, I saw myself in the kitchen, experimenting with desserts. Patrick playfully smeared cream on my face, and Adam helplessly wiped it off. “I’ll deal with Patrick for you later. He made our princess look like a messy kitten.” But when I rubbed my eyes, all I saw were them glaring at me with anger. “You’re trying to scare us into thinking you’ll leave, huh? If you have the guts, just never come back!” Indeed, I would never return. I looked at the flight reminder for the next day on my phone. With no tears falling, my heart was already in utter turmoil.

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I’ve loved Chase for twelve years, during which I witnessed him dating various women. While everyone thought I would make this playboy mine, he blocked my number for another woman. Over a month later, he knelt to me and asked me to marry him, surrounded by a sea of flowers. I took a wedding invitation out of my bag and said to him with a smile, “I’m getting married next week. I hope you’ll come to my wedding.”

In college, I had “bought” a boyfriend. As long as he was with me, I would help him with his family’s medical expenses. That impoverished academic genius followed me for four years in a humiliating way. Then my family went bankrupt. On the day we broke up, he was still indifferent and didn’t even try to save the relationship. Later, I worked as a waitress at a wine club to pay off debts, and he became an important person in the tech world. He even started a relationship with Yolanda, the most beautiful girl in our class. He asked me, “Do you regret it?” “No.” “But I regret it.” *** After graduating for so many years, I never thought that I would reunite with Joseph Kirk in this way. When I served the fruit plate, I lowered my head, fearing that he would see my face. Yolanda sat next to him. They looked stunning, like a match made in heaven. “Waitress.” Joseph called me, so I walked over, and he said, “Cut up the orange.” With my back to him, I cut the orange into slices. A long time ago, when I loved to eat oranges, Joseph would cut them for me. He was good with the knife and could cut each piece to an even size. At that time, I even thought he loved me. Later I realized that it was just his habit to be perfect. When he cut oranges, he would think about everything in the world except me. We hadn’t seen each other for four years. However, it felt like half a lifetime had passed between us. Somehow, the guests started chatting about school romances. Someone said, “I heard Mr. Kirk had a four-year-long girlfriend when he was in college.” My movements paused. Joseph said, “Hmm.” “Isn’t that great? Four years, it’s basically your whole college life.” Joseph didn’t answer him. The man felt awkward and quickly found another topic, “Since the relationship lasted four years, it should be very memorable, right?” Still, Joseph remained silent like a serene lake. After an unknown amount of time, Joseph laughed. “Not at all.”

“It’s good enough that Joseph doesn’t hate her.” Yolanda explained. “Joseph and I were in the same college. Back then… Well, he had suffered. If it wasn’t for his ex-girlfriend getting in the way, would Joseph and I only get together now?” “Yes, exactly. Ms. Lynch is such a famous actress. No matter how good his ex-girlfriend was, she is inferior to you.” With that, the atmosphere became lively again. I pressed down my hat. All I wanted was to leave quickly. Then, I accidentally cut my hand with the fruit knife, and let out a cry in pain, which attracted the guests’ attention. “What’s the matter? You can’t even cut a fruit?” Yolanda complained. “Sorry, I’ll go get a clean plate.” After saying that, I took the plate and was about to leave. “Wait.” Joseph suddenly stopped me and said word for word, “Turn around.” My body seemed to be nailed in place. One second, two seconds… Fortunately, my manager, Morgan, came in time. “I’m sorry, this girl is new here. She’s not yet skilled at work. As an apology, all the fruit platters today are free.” Morgan winked at me, “Well? Aren’t you going to get a new fruit platter?” I was able to escape immediately. Later, Morgan came and talk to me. “Be smarter next time when something happens. Everyone starts from being a newcomer. If you were complained by the guest, everything you did tonight might be in vain.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. Be especially careful when you’re at that VIP box. The distinguished guests are always there, especially the youngest and most handsome one in the middle. He’s the boss of an innovative technology company. We can’t afford to offend him.” “Miss Morgan, I’m a little scared. Can you please deliver the oranges for me?” I pleaded. “Sure.” I breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone in this world had already offended Joseph thoroughly, it would only be me. I am that nasty ex he mentioned just now. I still remember when I was a freshman in college. Joseph was wearing old clothes that had been washed into white. Standing in the pile of freshmen, he looked quite out of place. He was visibly poor. However, he was also tall and straight. I liked his clear and cold tone when he spoke. I also liked the way his thin eyelids drooped down when he looked at me. At that time, Joseph was very short on money, and the quota for poor students was given to others by the teacher. Therefore, after a certain evening class, I held his tender hand eagerly. “Joseph, I like you. Why don’t you become my boyfriend? I’m quite rich, and I can share my living expenses with you from now on. If you don’t want that, I will also give you money for a kiss.” Without a doubt, I was rejected. But at that time, my life was going pretty well, and I didn’t understand what setbacks were. The more he refused, the more I was entangled with him. Until one day, Joseph’s grandfather, who raised him, became critically ill. I paid the medical expenses for him without blinking an eye. Only then Joseph finally gave in to me. I foolishly thought that I had done him a great favor. It took me a long time to understand… Back then, I had had him but also destroyed him. After we were together, he still worked every day to earn living expenses. Although he rarely used my money, the situation got worse. There were rumors about Joseph circulating in school. They said he sold his body for money. The way our classmates looked at him changed, and some people even gave him hideous nicknames. At that time, I was still optimistic and naive. I took his hand and said, “Don’t bother them. They are all jealous.” …… I lived in my own world and never realized that Joseph was fighting that battle alone. In my senior year, my family went bankrupt. But I didn’t tell Joseph. I just called him out and said, “Let’s break up.” “Why?” He asked. “I’m tired.” “Okay.” That was how we parted. I guess he was happy because he was free at last. On the day we broke up, I deleted my WhatsApp account, broke my sim card, and got on the train to work in other cities to pay off my debts. I didn’t come back here until three months ago. From the look of it, Joseph seemed to be doing well. He had always been a genius. In college, he was the kind of super genius who out-turned the whole department. And, he was already a new star in the technology industry and finance magazine only four years after graduation. Yolanda was the prettiest girl in our class back then. She debuted in the entertainment industry and became a celebrity in her junior year. I never expected that they had become a pair. “Great. That’s great.” I muttered to myself. I clutched my chest, suppressing the sore feeling in my heart. At four o’clock in the morning, I finally got off work. I was the last one to leave. My colleagues thought there was no one else, so they turned off the lights early, and the elevator was shut down. I pressed the elevator button irritably, hoping it would light up. “You should make a call.” Joseph’s voice suddenly sounded behind me.

My movements became stiff, and I called a colleague. With that, the elevator reopened. Joseph and I stood in the cramped space. “Do you guys always leave work so late?” He asked calmly. “We can’t leave until the guests are gone.” “Is the pay very high here?” “It’s fine.” I lowered my head, using the brim of my hat to hide my face. Joseph didn’t seem to recognize me. He chatted casually and then looked at his watch. “This elevator is really slow. My girlfriend might be anxiously waiting for me. She is very clingy and loves to act coquettishly.” I was startled and realized he was talking about Yolanda. “What about you? You get off work so late. Won’t your boyfriend come to pick you up?” “I live close by.” Soon, the elevator arrived. As soon as the door opened, I walked out quickly. Joseph, who had been calm for several minutes, finally burst into anger. “What are you running for?” “Where else do you think you can run to? Scarlett!” “Was it fun for you to walk away and disappear without a trace?” With those questions, Joseph approached step by step. He was still the young man in my memory, but his youthfulness had faded, and he had become more mature and restrained. “You deleted your WhatsApp account. Your phone was unreachable. Even the college couldn’t find you. Heh! Scarlett, you are amazing.” I slowly raised my head to meet his gaze. “You should have… inquired about it with your connections, right? My family went bankrupt, and my dad got into financial disputes. We still haven’t paid off the debt…” “Why didn’t you tell me then?” I was dumbfounded. “Was it because you felt embarrassed? Ms. Reynolds?” “No…” Before I could finish, Yolanda came over. “Oh? Scarlett! It’s really you!” She was more beautiful than in college, delicate to every strand of her hair. “It’s been a long time! All our classmates have been looking for you. Why haven’t we heard anything about you in four years?” “I went to the south.” “No wonder.” Then, Yolanda looked at my clothes and said in surprise, “Scarlett, isn’t this the down jacket you bought in your junior year? The fluff has come out. Why are you still wearing it?” I used to buy clothes and throw them away after only wearing them for a year. She asked that question to make me feel embarrassed. However, at that point in my life, I was numb to such sarcasm. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s still wearable.” Yolanda looked as if she understood, “Are you going through something difficult right now? You should’ve told me earlier. I can help you.” She took out a bank card and handed it to me. “Take this and use it. You don’t have to pay back.” “Thanks, but I don’t need it,” I replied while looking at her, then at Joseph, and smiled quietly. “I’m getting married soon. Remember to attend when the time comes.” As soon as I finished, Joseph was stunned. Working at the club was just my part-time job. During the day, I still had to go to work. On Monday morning, a client visited the company. My colleagues were chatting, “I heard this client is a genius. He created this system intending to find someone.” “Huh? Who was he looking for?” “His ex-girlfriend.” Hearing that, my eyelids twitched, and I vaguely had a bad premonition. “So did he find her?” “I don’t know. The system has not been completed yet, but I heard that a lot of money had been invested, and the prospects are promising. That’s why our boss also wants to cooperate with him.” Later, I sorted out the information and walked to the reception room. At the door of the reception room, I heard Joseph’s voice. “About the cooperation, let me think about it.” I pushed the door open and put the documents on the table. Joseph’s gaze was scorching and he asked, “Why are you here?” “For work.” It is my official job. Mr. Lawrence, the general manager of the company, was curious, “Scarlett, do you know Mr. Kirk?” I thought about it and replied, “We’ve met before.” “Only met?” Joseph was mad again. I was unsure what he was angry about. Wasn’t he the one who never looked back on the day we broke up? He pointed at me, “Mr. Lawrence, I can sign the contract, provided that Scarlett is brought in as my assistant.” Lawrence agreed immediately, without even giving me a chance to refute. Then, they discussed the project for a whole day. In the evening, I packed my bag and planned to leave work on time. Joseph stopped me, “Where are you going? I haven’t let you go yet.” “Mr. Kirk, I can’t work overtime today. I have something else to deal with.” “What is that exactly?” “I’m going to deliver food,” I answered. Joseph looked at me in disbelief. I used to be so delicate that I never eat takeaway at all. During his four years in college, Joseph went to work part-time after class, delivering food. His dinner was often a hamburger given for free by the delivery company. Once I went to find him. In the cramped room, he huddled with a group, eating hamburgers from a box. Back then, I said, “Joseph, why are you eating this? It’s not clean.” His expression was unnatural, “Does it matter if it’s clean?” “Come with me. Accompany me to have steak.” Then, I took him to a newly opened restaurant that was expensive. He stood at the restaurant’s door for a while and took off his delivery clothes in silence. After my family went bankrupt, I finally understood his emotions that day. It was just like today. It snowed while I was preparing to deliver food. The ground was very slippery, I fell, and the takeaway fell to the ground too. I called the client to explain, but he scolded me instead. He shouted, “Don’t make excuses! If you are late, you are late.” The scratches on my palm hurt in the cold winter, but I didn’t care about it and kept apologizing. Suddenly, Joseph appeared and picked up my scooter. I didn’t know when he came and how long he had been looking at me. Subconsciously, I hid my hands behind my back. “Don’t hide it.” He said in a hoarse voice. His eyes were red as he continued, “Go and wash it off.” “I have to deliver food.” “Get in the car. I’ll take you there.” The customer lived on the first floor. When I delivered the food, he muttered, “Wow, even those who drive a Porsche also deliver food?” Later, I wanted to accept more orders. Joseph said, “Don’t take more orders.” “No, I earned too little tonight.” I retorted. “Then I’ll buy it.” “What?” I was dumbfounded. With a ding, the system automatically accepted the order he had assigned. “I’ll buy your time tonight.”

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I was my family’s lucky star. I predicted the lottery numbers, and my gambling-addict father, buried in debt, won a hundred million dollars. I predicted the SAT answers, and my underachieving little brother was admitted to Stanford with a full scholarship. I predicted Trump’s election as president, and my mother, riding on my predictions, was hailed as a prophetess across the internet, basking in endless admiration. The whole family now treated me like I was made of gold. But I coldly watched as they reveled in their joy. They’d long forgotten that, two years ago, I was the “cursed child” subjected to endless insults. But it didn’t matter—I’d make sure they remember. As soon as I walked into the house, my mom eagerly linked her arm to mine. “Sweetheart, we’ve all been waiting for you to cut the cake!” Squatting by the dining table, my dad and my brother wore expressions of faint dissatisfaction, but it was overshadowed by their ingratiating smiles. I glanced at the clock in the living room. It was 00:47 AM. Raymond’s twenty-third birthday had already passed. In the past, if I were even a minute late to Raymond’s birthday, my mom would have dragged me by the ear and made me apologize. Because Raymond was the White family’s golden child. But things had all changed. Now, Raymond, the same big-sized guy who used to look down on me, bent over deferentially to guide me to the seat of honor. The rundown apartment building had been swapped for a luxurious villa, and all the furniture was upgraded to top-quality solid wood. Raymond rubbed his hands together and pushed the large birthday cake in front of me. His eyes were filled with anticipation. I gave him a faint smile. “What do you want for your birthday this year?” Raymond plopped down next to me, and his eyes gleamed with perversion. “Stone, I want my boss’ daughter to chase after me—preferably so publicly that everyone knows about it!” I froze for a second, sizing up my chubby and pig-faced brother, and agreed. Thanks to my “blessing”, Raymond landed a job at a prestigious company. His boss’ daughter had just returned from overseas and was currently Raymond’s direct supervisor. Raymond had been pursuing her for some time, but the girl didn’t even spare him a glance. Seeing how readily I agreed, my mom frowned in disdain. “That girl’s probably dumped by others, isn’t she? Is she even worthy of our Raymond?” My dad nodded fervently. Ever since I came back, my parents had become insatiably arrogant. Even the daughter of a major corporate CEO was beneath their standards. In their minds, even the president’s daughter wouldn’t be good enough for Raymond. As my parents continued to insult Raymond’s crush, he only let out a lewd laugh. “That’s just for fun. Anyway, once I’m bored, I can always dump her. “Besides, with Stone around, what kind of woman can’t I play with?” “With Stone around” had become a mantra for the entire family. I smiled without saying a word and excused myself, claiming I was tired. My bedroom was no longer a storage room. It faced south, spacious and bright. Intricate Versailles-style tiles covered the floor, and gold-trimmed, carved walls framed the space. The bed was adorned with blue crystal accents at the headboard and footboard, blending with the dark woodgrain to exude luxury. And all of this just because I was the family’s lucky star. I could grant one wish for someone each week. The better they treated me, the fewer restrictions there were on the wish. From promotions to immortality, anything was possible. Just because it was Raymond’s birthday, they cheerfully gave this week’s wish to him. They forgot that today was also my birthday. They said, “What’s the point of remembering the birthday of a worthless girl?” I’d heard those words for over a decade. Even the birth date on my ID card was made up. It was better they didn’t remember. I lay on the soft and comfortable bed, and their greedy laughter still rang in my ears. They were eagerly arguing over next week’s wish. Too bad they didn’t know that all wishes came with a price.

Early the next morning, before I was fully awake, my mom was already helping me wash up in the bathroom. When I was done, she crouched at my feet to help me put on socks, muttering under her breath, “Sweetheart, look how much I love you.” Every word was about love, but the calculating gleam in her eyes was practically spilling out. I smiled and glanced at my grandmother, who was mopping the living room floor. Now that we were rich, we should’ve hired a few housekeepers. But my parents refused—not because they didn’t want to spend the money, but because they were greedy. They were so greedy that they were afraid an outsider might somehow siphon away my “blessings”. So, they took it upon themselves to bring my grandmother from the countryside to work as a maid. At breakfast, the table was filled with eighteen dishes—chicken, duck, fish, seafood—each one exquisitely prepared. I picked up a fork and took one bite before frowning. “Why is this food so spicy? Who can eat this?” The next second, Raymond exploded. “Grandma, what the hell is wrong with you?” My mom immediately chimed in, scolding, “Making food like this? You might as well just drop dead!” With a few words, Grandma’s eyes were already red. With a sigh, she shakily got up and returned to the kitchen to make something else. As her footsteps faded away, no one at the table showed any reaction. After all, everyone knew I hated Grandma. That was an established fact in our family. The first day Grandma was brought back to the family, I told them that anyone could make a wish to me except for Grandma. My family saw no problem with my heartless behavior. In fact, to please me, they deliberately found ways to pick on Grandma in front of me. With that little interruption out of the way, the table returned to a lively and harmonious atmosphere. I took a bite of pasta and felt something hard inside. Digging through it, I found a small piece of sweet potato. I froze for a moment. It was my exclusive birthday gift. In the countryside, pasta was a luxury. Every year on the night before my birthday, Grandma would sneak into a neighbor’s field in the dead of night to steal sweet potatoes. The sweet potatoes were very sweet. But they also carried bitterness. I wiped away the tears at the corner of my eyes. From my seat, I could see the kitchen and Grandma’s busy figure. By the time she brought out the new dishes, the table was already a mess. Not a single bite was left for her. I couldn’t bear to look anymore. Two years ago, I wasn’t the family’s lucky star. I was the cursed one, and Grandma was the old hag. Back then, the entire family lived in a basement apartment that cost 100 dollars a month to rent. Dad gambled, Mom played cards, and I became their unpaid maid. At five, I learned to do laundry. At seven, I stood on a stool to cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner for everyone. There was a small dent on my forehead, left from my mom poking me hard with her finger. She loved to jab my head while cursing, “You are a jinx! Worthless brat! You stole my son’s place in my womb just to live a good life? I won’t let you!” My mom said the fortune-teller had predicted she’d give birth to a boy. She believed it was my witchcraft that made me a girl instead. I didn’t understand any of it back then. I only knew that their yelling and anger left me trembling. I had no bed but only a spot on the floor. In my dreams, I wished over and over that I’d been born a boy. Then, when I turned ten, they finally had a son. And finally, they remembered to give me a real name. I was named Stone. My brother was named Raymond. A symbol of a common stone versus a symbol of light and glory. When Raymond started school, I was formally relieved of my “nanny” duties. Even when I held onto a perfect report card, begging and kowtowing to my parents all night, even when my teacher pleaded with them, they threw me back to the countryside without hesitation. I walked alone through the winding mountain paths from sunrise to sunset before finally reaching Grandma’s house. Grandma was skinny yet always gentle. She greeted me with a warm smile from the front of her thatched cottage. My parents only visited once a year during the New Year, and even then, it was to covet Grandma’s land. “Mom, you’re in your seventies. What do you need a plot of land for? “I owe 500 thousand dollars. Jack said I could trade the land for it. I’m your son. You can’t just ignore this!” Grandma’s only response was silence. That night, Grandma lit a rare fire, filling the little house with warmth. But no matter how I coaxed or begged, she didn’t smile. A million dollars of gambling debt—the land could cover most of it. They wouldn’t let Grandma go. Sure enough, the next day, my dad burst into the house with a machete in hand, like a demon straight from hell. That night, I dragged him up the mountain. I gave him a string of numbers and told him to buy a lottery ticket. By some twist of fate, he did. That string of numbers won him two million dollars. Overnight, my family struck it rich. I watched his manic celebration with indifference. That day, the once-silent village came alive with the sound of firecrackers. Everyone said Raymond had made a fortune and was taking me back to live a good life. Before I left, I told Grandma, “I’ll bring you back. And don’t ever make a wish to me, or it’ll cost you your life!” Grandma quietly cleaned up the leftovers on the table. Meanwhile, my dad was still pestering me about which numbers would win the lottery. My mom, slipping a new gold necklace around my neck, whispered about her desire for painless beauty.

A few days later, Raymond was beaming at the dinner table. The reason? The cold daughter of his boss had not only added his contact information but also confessed to him publicly. She had even kissed him on the cheek in front of her father. But suddenly, Raymond’s tone shifted, and he erupted in anger. “You don’t even know! That old bastard was so furious that his daughter fell for me, and he fired me yesterday. “I’m going to make him grovel at my feet and lick my boots! “Stone, let’s use this week’s wish to help me out again!” For once, Raymond’s doting parents spoke in unison, “No!” Raymond’s eyes widened. “Why not?” Dad looked sheepish. “I’ve got something more urgent this time. We’ll let you take your turn next week, okay?” No sooner had he finished than Mom slammed the table. “Leon, what’s that supposed to mean? You’ve been hogging the wishes for weeks! This time, it’s my turn!” Sitting at the head of the table, I watched as my parents argued heatedly while I calmly sipped my soup. Dad had just lost another 200 million dollars in gambling. The debt collectors had come knocking the day before, threatening to chop off his hands and feet if he didn’t pay up soon. But he wasn’t worried. With me around, owing a few billion dollars was nothing to him. Yesterday, however, Mom came to me as well. She had built a reputation online as a mysterious fortune-teller. Everything she predicted was spot-on, earning her countless followers and admiration. But her fame had attracted the attention of a powerful woman—a former mafia matriarch—who demanded that Mom locate her kidnapped husband, one of the richest men in our country. This woman had given Mom a deadline. Find him by the end of the week, or the entire family would be executed. But a week’s wish only allowed for one person. Mom was so angry that she was shaking. “Do you even understand how much 200 million dollars is? Gambling on that scale is a death wish!” Dad choked out, “And are you so much better? You make outrageous claims without a second thought. If that mafia lady finds out about Stone’s ability, what do you think will happen to us?” Their eyes locked, and sparks flew. The atmosphere around the table grew increasingly tense and dangerous. Mom moved first. In a flash, she slapped Dad hard across the face. “Leon, I’ve served your family for so many years. This wish is mine!” With a cry, Dad stumbled and fell to the ground. But he quickly retaliated, swinging his fists at Mom. In an instant, their faces were bruised and bloody, and their skin was marked with deep scratches. Having watched the spectacle long enough, I furrowed my brow and pretended to hesitate. I said, “You’re both my family…” Mom immediately clung to my arm. “Your father wanted to drown you when he saw you were a girl. If it weren’t for me, you’d be long dead! You have to help me!” Dad panicked, too. “Your mom stole a few thousand dollars your teacher gave you for school and cursed you to die every single day. I still have the message records to prove it!” Raymond, uninterested in their squabbling, was enthusiastically texting on his phone. I sighed deeply, “Mom, Dad, if it was so urgent, you should have said something earlier. Last week’s wish for Raymond wasn’t even that critical.” Without looking up, Raymond scoffed, “You two totally deserve this. Parents are supposed to make sacrifices for their kids.” He added, rubbing his greasy mouth against my sleeve, “Stone, I’m the only son. Just give me this week’s wish!” I quickly nodded. “You’re absolutely right. The White family’s future depends on Raymond continuing the bloodline.” Raymond shot up from his seat, and his bulky frame towered over our scrawny parents. Mom shrieked, “You ungrateful brat! Do you want me to die?!” Raymond reacted swiftly, shoving Mom aside and swinging his arm for a punch. “You’re still alive, aren’t you? What are you whining about?” The punch landed squarely, leaving Mom seeing stars as she fell to the ground. She never imagined she’d mean so little to Raymond “How dare you! I’m your mother!” Raymond glared at Mom with hostility, and his voice dripped with resentment. “If you’re really my mom, you’d give me the wish!” “You!” Clutching her chest, Mom gasped for breath. Dad, on the other hand, was grinning, egging Raymond on. “Your mom only ever thinks about herself. She’s going too far.” In no time, my father and Raymond had formed an alliance. My mom cursed, “You two bastards!” Raymond glared even harder. He barked, “You don’t deserve to be my mom!” He kicked my mom viciously. This time, he used too much force. Mom was sent flying several feet, and her head slammed into the wall. Blood gushed out instantly!

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On my wedding night, my husband slept with my maid of honor. And she was my best friend. My face went pale as I watched him kneeling and slapping himself across the face in desperation. He claimed it was all because he had been shielding me from the alcohol, that the booze had clouded his judgment. A month later, my best friend found out she was pregnant. The doctor said her health was too fragile, and after an abortion, she probably wouldn’t be able to conceive again. She sobbed, her eyes red, telling me she wanted to keep the baby. She said her greatest dream had always been to become a mother. I couldn’t help but feel deeply for her—her strength was both heartbreaking and inspiring. To make up for my husband’s mistake, I threw myself into supporting her during her pregnancy. But after the baby was born, I caught a glimpse of the truth—my husband sneaking into the hospital room. Through the door, I heard the unmistakable sounds of them kissing. Amelia, who had once raged at him for what he had done, now giggled and said, “Why are you here? What if Cassandra finds out?” Nathaniel, still smiling, gently tapped her nose. “I’m just checking on my child. Besides, we’ve done this so well—she’ll never suspect.” ***** I stood frozen outside the door, clutching the bowl of bird’s nest soup. My vision blurred, and my legs almost gave out under me. For the past few weeks, I had given up my job to care for Amelia, going back and forth to the hospital every day. Just two hours ago, Amelia had asked for the soup I had made, saying she felt weak and needed some nourishment. Concerned for her health and the strain of late pregnancy, I rushed home to prepare it. Worried that it might cool down and become unappetizing, I cradled the steaming bowl carefully in my arms and hurried over to the hospital to deliver it. But as I reached the door, I walked right into this shocking scene. Ever since the wedding, I’d felt an overwhelming sense of guilt toward Amelia. Her life had been permanently altered by that night, and every day since, she had lived in its shadow. When we were together, her gaze would sometimes turn vacant, and she would tear up without warning. At home, she would retreat to the bathroom for hours, often shaking uncontrollably late into the night. She didn’t resist me—of all people, she trusted me. Anyone else who came near her would send her into a panic, crying out, screaming, and smashing anything she could get her hands on. I couldn’t stand seeing her like this, so I quit my job and devoted myself to taking care of her full-time. I took her out whenever I could to get her mind off things, making sure she got some fresh air and a change of scenery. At night, I stayed up until I was certain she had fallen asleep before I let myself get any rest. I told myself I was doing this to help her move on, but deep down, I knew I couldn’t undo the damage. The guilt of what had happened had become too much to bear. But after hearing the sounds from inside that hospital room, everything I had believed shattered into pieces. Amelia was still teasing Nathaniel. “Come on, you’d better leave. Cassandra will be back soon. How are you going to explain this to her?” Nathaniel chuckled, planting a kiss on the baby and then on her lips. “You’re glowing after the birth—how can I possibly resist?” Amelia playfully hit his chest, pulling him closer for a deeper kiss. “It’s because your amazing wife took such great care of me,” she said with a smile. “Having such a wonderful wife—I guess you’ve forgotten all about me.” Nathaniel’s face softened as he stroked her hair. “I can’t risk being seen, you know that. But Amelia, I only have eyes for you.” I could barely hold myself up. The bird’s nest soup burned my hand, leaving a red mark, but I couldn’t feel it. Only the weight of disbelief crushed me, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

After a few more moments, the two inside exchanged their goodbyes, and I quickly retreated into the stairwell. From there, I could see everything. Nathaniel stood by the door for a long time before finally walking away. When he turned, I saw a satisfied smile on his face, one that made my heart freeze. The chill spread through my body, making my limbs feel heavy and cold. Since that night, Nathaniel hadn’t smiled in front of me once. He’d been consumed with guilt, his eyes red and hollow with regret. He despised himself for what he had done, for sinking so low. The man I had once loved, the confident and charming Nathaniel, had been replaced with someone broken. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, but at the same time, I couldn’t ignore the fact that I was suffering, too. This wasn’t just his fault. Amelia had lost everything—her job, her ability to move on. She had even tried to take her own life. And through all of this, I was the one left to pick up the pieces. I had to comfort Nathaniel, all while bearing the pain of his betrayal. I also had to care for Amelia, overcome with guilt for the part I had played in her suffering. It had been a year since that night, and Amelia hadn’t seen Nathaniel again. Whenever anyone mentioned his name, she would fly into a frenzy, screaming “rapist” and destroying anything in her path. But just now, she had been flirting with him, her face glowing with affection. Her smile, the way she looked at him—it wasn’t the look of someone who had been traumatized. I stood in the stairwell for what felt like hours, the bird’s nest soup cold and forgotten in my hands. Finally, Amelia called me. “Cassandra, where are you? I’m starving!” Her voice was sharp, impatient. I felt a pang of guilt twist in my stomach, but I forced myself to sound calm. “Sorry, I forgot to turn off the stove. The soup burned.” “Oh no, are you okay? Don’t worry. I can just order something.” She sounded concerned, but I could barely hold it together. I replied with a soft “mm” and hung up the phone. Without a second thought, I threw the soup into the trash. My hand was blistered, but the pain felt distant, irrelevant. Instead, all I could feel was the crushing weight of the past year, of everything I had been forced to endure. But now, I understood the truth. Amelia didn’t care about the soup. She had used it as a distraction so she could sneak around with Nathaniel. Lost in thought, I found myself on the rooftop of the hospital. I stared down, tears blurring my vision. For the first time in a year, I cried for myself. I had convinced myself that their pain was greater than mine, that their suffering outweighed my own. But the brutal truth was now clear; I had been played. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore, releasing all the pent-up emotions I had held inside. When I finally stopped, I looked up at the sky. The sunset was breathtaking, with vibrant colors painting the horizon. A cool breeze ruffled my hair, and slowly, the fog lifted from my mind. Why should I bear the weight of their mistakes? I needed to take a step back and rethink everything.

I replayed everything that happened on my wedding day in my mind. A year ago, Nathaniel and I got married at my family’s villa. Nathaniel wasn’t fond of large gatherings, so we kept the guest list small, inviting only close family and friends. We had a blast, replacing the usual formal toasts with a fun drinking game that everyone enjoyed. I was having the time of my life, and Nathaniel, ever the supportive husband, stood by with a smile, helping me take shots. Everyone was commenting on how sweet and loving we were as a couple. A few hours later, I noticed Nathaniel seemed off. His hand, which was holding mine, felt unusually hot, and his eyes were glassy. I gently encouraged him to take a break, assuring him I could handle the rest. Amelia, my maid of honor, had joined in the fun, but it was obvious she wasn’t interested. She got up, yawning, and asked if there was somewhere she could rest. I remembered there was a guest room upstairs, so I suggested she go take a nap. In between games, I started to worry about Nathaniel. He’d drunk a lot, and I was concerned he might be getting too intoxicated. I decided to leave the game for a moment and check on him upstairs. But when I opened the door to our bedroom, what I saw would haunt me for the rest of my life. Nathaniel was on top of Amelia, both of them disheveled. Amelia’s dress was torn, and when she saw me, she screamed, “Cassandra, your husband’s gone crazy!” The world seemed to collapse around me in an instant. Without thinking, I rushed toward them, shoving Nathaniel off her. He tumbled to the floor, dazed. His confused expression told me he was still drunk and hadn’t realized what was going on. Before he could react, I slapped him across the face with all my strength. That slap seemed to wake him up. His face went pale as he realized the gravity of the situation. Everything around me blurred, and I could hardly breathe. The only thing I remember clearly is wrapping Amelia in a blanket and seeing Nathaniel kneeling, begging for forgiveness. He claimed he was too drunk and had mistaken Amelia for me. Amelia cried, saying she had gotten lost and accidentally walked into the wrong room, only to be attacked by Nathaniel as soon as she opened the door. The noise from downstairs had drowned out her cries for help. It was all a tragic, terrible mistake. I was trembling, unable to speak as I pointed at Nathaniel. Amelia clung to my sleeve, tears pouring down her face as she begged me not to tell anyone. “Cassandra, please don’t tell anyone. A woman’s reputation is everything. If this gets out, I’m finished!”   Looking at Amelia’s devastated face, I froze. What was I supposed to do? This was my husband, the man I loved more than anyone. And even though it was Amelia being hurt, I couldn’t deny that I was just as lost as she was. Nathaniel, seeing my shock, crawled over to me. He was in a desperate attempt to show his remorse and slapped himself twice. “Honey, I swear, I didn’t mean to. I was so drunk. I thought it was you…” He turned to Amelia, bowing his head repeatedly, apologizing. “Amelia, I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything to make it right. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you!” Amelia pushed him away violently, screaming, “Get away! Don’t ever come near me again!” The sight before me made my heart boil with rage, but it also broke my heart. I was furious at Nathaniel for not controlling himself, for doing something so monstrous. But I also knew I had my own share of responsibility. If he hadn’t been trying to shield me from the alcohol, none of this would have happened. I comforted Amelia for hours until she finally calmed down. I helped her into the bathroom and found her a fresh outfit. Fortunately, I had a spare maid-of-honor dress, so nobody would notice the tear in her clothing. Meanwhile, Nathaniel stayed downstairs with the guests, fighting to keep his emotions under control. After Amelia left, I was left feeling completely lost. When I returned to the front room, the guests looked at me with knowing smiles. “Cassandra, what’s going on? You’re already getting your wedding night over with?” I froze, my gaze landing on Nathaniel’s neck, where a prominent red mark stood out. The teasing from the guests felt like a knife to my chest, and I could barely breathe. But I forced myself to smile, hiding the pain. Amelia had begged me not to tell anyone, and I had promised. This was supposed to be the most important day of my life, my wedding day. And this is what had happened. All I could do was swallow my pride and pretend everything was fine. That night, we didn’t have our honeymoon. After sending the guests off, we rushed to Amelia’s apartment. She had torn everything apart, shouting for Nathaniel to leave. Nathaniel’s eyes were bloodshot, full of guilt. And all he could do was turn and walk away. From then on, I took care of Amelia every day. As a woman, I understood the deep emotional toll this had taken on her. At that time, my company had just gone public, and things were looking up. But for Amelia’s sake, I sold my shares at a loss, passing them to a competitor. I also replaced everything Amelia had destroyed, no questions asked. She gave me a list of what she wanted, and I didn’t hesitate to buy it for her. But looking back, I realize how much was wrong with all of this. A month later, Amelia found out she was pregnant. When I saw the pregnancy test, it felt like the ground had disappeared beneath me. I remember frantically grabbing her hand, ready to take her to the clinic for an abortion. But Amelia, tears streaming down her face, told me the doctor had warned her that her body wouldn’t be able to handle it. If she had the abortion, she might never be able to have children again. She wanted to keep the baby. Looking at her face, I finally understood what it felt like for the world to collapse around me. This was Nathaniel’s child, the child that had been conceived that night. But it was more than just that—since the wedding, Nathaniel had been distant, consumed by guilt, never coming near me again. Now, Amelia was carrying his child. “Cassandra, please, I really want this child. You know I grew up without parents…” Amelia’s voice was broken, and her eyes pleaded with me. My heart wavered. Amelia had grown up in an orphanage, and her greatest desire had always been to feel the love of a family. I knew that, and I couldn’t ignore it. This child might be her only chance at finding some kind of family, some kind of love. I couldn’t bear the thought of her losing it. What would she do if I forced her to get rid of it? I couldn’t say no. After many long talks with Nathaniel, we agreed to let Amelia keep the child. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes, his voice barely audible as he said, “Honey, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I’ll take responsibility for it.” I shook my head, tears falling. “No, we’re married. We face this together.” From that moment on, my life became a blur of sleepless nights. No matter what time it was, if Amelia called, I had to get up and attend to her needs. Nathaniel, unable to face her, stayed home cooking meals for me. But I barely had a moment to sit down before Amelia would call again. Sometimes Nathaniel would sigh and mutter, “If only I hadn’t drunk so much that day…” Each time, my guilt deepened. The stress of sleepless nights took a toll on me. When the baby was born, I cried harder than Amelia did. I thought things would get better and I could finally catch a break. But instead, Amelia became even more demanding. The sweet, caring friend I had known was gone. Now, looking back, everything seemed suspicious. How could Nathaniel have mistaken Amelia for me? Amelia and I have a significant height difference, and I was wearing a wedding dress that day. How could Nathaniel possibly mistake me for her? Amelia and I have been like sisters since childhood. She often came over to my house. How could she have gotten lost in the house she knew so well? And when Amelia made her long lists of demands—always the latest designer clothes, bags, and furniture—something didn’t add up. How could someone so emotionally traumatized be so concerned with material things? The more I thought about it, the colder I felt. Everything had been wrong from the start.   After piecing everything together, I made my way back to the hospital room. When I looked at Amelia again, a chill ran through me. She was chatting away with the nurse, smiling, completely indifferent to my presence. “Your postpartum nurse is so attentive. You’re really recovering well,” the nurse said. “Oh, yes. Cassandra really knows how to take care of people,” Amelia replied with a grin. During my time in the delivery room, she’d insisted that I play the role of the postpartum nurse. She claimed that since she had no family support, this would prevent anyone from looking down on her in the hospital. Although it made me uncomfortable, I had agreed. When the nurse saw me, she handed the baby to me without hesitation. “You disappeared for a while? New moms need someone with them 24/7 during recovery, didn’t you know that?” she scolded. I didn’t respond. I just stared coldly at Amelia. I wanted to confront her, to ask her about everything that had happened in the room earlier. To ask if she had ever truly considered me a friend. Amelia met my gaze but quickly flinched and looked away, her face a mask of guilt. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. With a neutral expression, I took the baby and smiled faintly at the nurse. “I’ll be more careful,” I said. Seeing that I was back to normal, Amelia visibly relaxed. She quickly tried to smooth things over. “I think I’m almost ready to be discharged. Cassandra, if you’re tired, you can go home and rest. You don’t need to stay with me all the time,” she said. I pursed my lips. It was clear she was trying to get me out of the way to avoid any more interruptions. Without thinking, I tightened my grip on the baby, making it cry. Amelia’s expression changed instantly. “Cassandra, I’ve already been very patient with you today. How can you not even calm the baby down? Don’t forget that this child is here because of both of you—” she started, her voice thick with fake emotion. It was one of her usual tricks. She knew how to make me feel guilty just by mentioning that day. That was how she controlled me. But not today. I looked down at the baby in my arms, whose face reminded me so much of Nathaniel’s, and a wave of nausea hit me. I walked over to her and shoved the baby into her arms. “Since it’s your baby, shouldn’t you know how to comfort it?” I asked coldly. Amelia looked shocked, staring at me for a moment. She seemed to shrink back, stammering, “Cassandra, you must be exhausted. Take a few days off. You don’t need to take care of me anymore.” Take a break? She had gotten so used to me running around after her that it had become second nature. But this was exactly what I had been waiting for. “Fine, I’ll take a few days off,” I said. Standing up straight, I saw a glint of triumph flash in Amelia’s eyes. At home, Nathaniel had made dinner and was waiting for me. He was still wearing the same clothes he’d worn when he met Amelia, and I could faintly smell the sterile scent of the delivery room on him. My stomach turned. As soon as I sat down, he spoke up, “Honey, work’s been crazy lately. I might have to go on a business trip for a while.” News traveled fast, didn’t it? I smiled faintly, as if nothing had happened, and picked up my fork. “Alright, stay safe.” He looked at me, caught off guard by my lack of questions. He quickly noticed the blisters on my hand and asked, “Honey, what happened to your hand? Do you want me to put some ointment on it?” As he spoke, he propped himself up and reached out to take my hand to examine it more closely. His concern had once been enough to make me believe he cared. I subtly pulled my hand back. I didn’t want to touch this disgusting man anymore. Nathaniel’s expression darkened. “You think I’m dirty, don’t you? Cassandra, I’m sorry.” In the past, whenever Nathaniel said things like that, I’d feel a pang of pity. Now, I realized—he and Amelia had been playing me all along. I looked up and met his eyes. This was the first time I had truly looked into his eyes when he said something like that. There was no remorse, no guilt, and certainly no love for me. It was all just a performance. My heart went cold. “I’m just a little tired,” I said. Seeing my mood had soured, Nathaniel didn’t press further. After dinner, I went to my room. Since that incident, we had been sleeping in separate rooms. I heard the sound of water running from the bathroom next to the study and quietly opened the door. I found his clothes in the doorway and grabbed his phone. I tried a few passwords, but none of them worked. Finally, I entered Amelia’s birthday, and it unlocked. Everything was falling into place. Nathaniel had covered his tracks well. There were no obvious clues on his phone. He didn’t have Amelia’s contact number, meaning she likely had another account. Clinging to the last shred of hope, I opened the messages. I froze when I saw the message recycle bin. The contents made my stomach churn. It was a conversation between Nathaniel and Amelia from a year ago. The date was our wedding day. Amelia: [Can’t you be a bit smarter? Cassandra almost caught us. Luckily, I reacted quickly. You can’t even get married without causing trouble.] Nathaniel: [Oh, right, smart ass, aren’t you? You made me out to be a rapist in front of Cassandra. How am I supposed to live with her? What about the inheritance?] Amelia: [Didn’t you text me saying you wanted some fun? Now it’s my fault? I don’t care what you do. You need to get the inheritance.] My vision blurred, and my stomach twisted painfully. Then, the bathroom door opened.

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