My parents were taken away by gangsters, who demanded one million dollars. They threatened to kill them immediately if I reported to the police. When I went to the bank to withdraw the money, I found that my account balance was down to single digits. The only person who knew the PIN to the card, besides me, was my husband, Lucas. I called him, but it wasn’t Lucas who answered. It was his first love, the one he could never forget. “Lucas is busy showing me houses right now. He’ll call you back later.” I called again, but this time, Lucas’ phone was switched off. That day, because I couldn’t pay the ransom in time, I lost my parents. And Lucas lost the only hope he had for a cure, an experimental drug that could save him from cancer. ***** “Ms. Rogers, if you don’t want anything to happen to your parents, we expect you to deliver the one million dollars to the location we specify by 6 PM today. “That’s all we’re asking for. Surely, the life of your parents isn’t worth more than that, right? “Don’t try anything funny. If you report this to the police, we can’t guarantee your parents’ safety,” The gangsters said. I watched the video sent by the gangsters. My elderly parents were bound tightly and thrown in a corner their lives uncertain. My eyes were red, as though blood was about to seep out. No wonder I hadn’t been able to reach them these past few days. I had assumed they were busy with their research, since they were so close to completing their work on the experimental drug. I never expected that they had been taken by gangsters. I wiped away my tears, my voice trembling as I spoke into the phone, “I’ll get the money to you. Please don’t hurt my parents.” On the other end, a chilling laugh echoed before the call was cut off. “Let’s see if you can prove your sincerity, Ms. Rogers.” As I rushed to the bank with the card to get the money, the teller handed it back to me with a look of regret. “I’m sorry, Miss, but there are insufficient funds on this card.” “How is that possible? There should be more than one million dollars in my account! Please, I’m really in a hurry. I need this money.” The teller hesitated but then checked again. She reluctantly told me that the balance on the card was only about seven dollars. I suddenly realized that besides me, the only other person who knew the PIN was Lucas. So, I immediately called him. It took a while for the phone to connect, but before I could say anything, a frustrated woman’s voice came through the speaker. “Lucas is busy with me showing houses. He’ll call you back when he can. Goodbye.” And then the line went dead with a beep. I was going crazy. I didn’t have time to think about who this woman was. I quickly called again, but this time, his phone was switched off completely. No matter how many times I tried, the same dead tone greeted me.

I collapsed onto the ground, my fingernails digging into my palms in a desperate attempt to calm myself down. During this time, I finally remembered who the woman on the phone had been. Her name was Mandy, Lucas’ college classmate and the one he had never stopped thinking about. A while ago, Mandy had divorced her husband and moved with her child to our city, where she and Lucas had reconnected. Lucas, feeling sorry for Mandy as a single mother, had been helping her both emotionally and financially. He had even offered to help cover the cost of a house she had her eye on in a nearby neighborhood. But since our savings also included the money that I had saved for a future home, I refused to let Lucas give her any money. Now, reflecting on the fact that Lucas had accompanied Mandy to see the house, I could almost confirm that it was Lucas who had taken the money from our account. With this realization, I scrambled to my feet and rushed out the door, hailing a taxi to take me to the real estate office where Lucas had mentioned Mandy had found a place. During the ride, I prayed that I could get the money back, not only because it was critical to saving my parents but also because my parents had made groundbreaking progress in the research of a cancer cure. Once this drug was ready, it could save millions of people, including Lucas. Yes, Lucas had been suffering from chronic stomach pain for a long time. At first, he didn’t pay much attention to it, but when I secretly went to get his medical check-up report, I found out that he was already in the late stages of stomach cancer. Fearing that telling him would make his condition worse, I had kept it from him, hoping that the miracle drug my parents were working on could save him. When I arrived at the real estate office, I spotted Lucas and Mandy standing close together, chatting intimately. As soon as he heard me call his name, Lucas turned around. After a brief moment of eye contact, impatience flickered in his eyes. “I told you, I’m busy. Can’t you understand?” I didn’t have time to argue with him about his attitude; I rushed over to demand the money. “Lucas, give me back the money on the card. It’s urgent!” Lucas pulled his hand away from mine and looked at me with disgust. “I’ve already used it. I just paid for the house.” I was so furious I almost shouted, “Then, return the house and give me my money back!” At that moment, Mandy walked over and stood in front of Lucas, giving me a disapproving look. “Ms. Rogers, Lucas is only trying to help us. He’s a kind man. Don’t make it harder for him.” Seeing Mandy’s defense of him, Lucas grew even more annoyed. “The money’s been spent. It can’t be refunded. Mandy and her son have it tough, too. Can’t you show a little empathy and stop causing a scene?”

I watched the time slip away, my heart growing more anxious by the second. I looked at Lucas with pleading eyes and said, “Please, I’m desperate. I really need this money. If we don’t hurry, my parents… they’ll be dead.” Lucas chuckled bitterly, clearly angry, “Enough, Nicole. To get the money back, you’re even willing to curse your parents? You’ve lost your mind.” Mandy, who had been quiet until then, spoke up, “Ms. Rogers, I know you’re reluctant to part with the money, but don’t worry. I’ll find a way to pay you back soon. Just stop saying things like that. Your parents will be heartbroken if they hear you.” “It’s true,” I said, my voice trembling as I broke down in tears. “My parents were taken away. The gangsters want a million dollars for their release. If I don’t pay, they’ll…” My sobs choked me, and I could barely finish the sentence. Lucas froze, his expression shifting. Doubt flashed in his eyes as if he was questioning the truth of what I’d said. Seeing that he seemed to be listening, Mandy grew more impatient. She tugged at his sleeve and said, “You’re not actually believing this, are you? Gangsters? What is this, some kind of movie?” Lucas snapped out of it and shot me a look full of contempt. Desperate, I grabbed his arm. “I’m not lying. Please, believe me, just this once. Please. I’ll never get involved in your life again, never bother you or Mandy after this. Just help me save my parents. “Even if you have to divorce me and be with her, it doesn’t matter.” Hearing that, Lucas immediately yanked his arm away from me, a mocking smirk on his face. He sneered, “In the end, it’s still about how much I’ve done for Mandy. You’re just looking for a poor excuse to take the money back. Well, it’s already been paid, and I’m not giving it back. You can forget about it. “As for your parents being taken away, what does that have to do with me? Go to the police.” Without another word, he turned and wrapped his arm around Mandy, preparing to leave. I cried out after him, “Don’t you know you have cancer? Only my parents can save you!” He scoffed and continued walking, not even bothering to look back. I dragged my exhausted body to the sales office, clinging to the last bit of hope. I found the person in charge and explained that Lucas had used our joint assets to buy a house for another woman. I demanded the money be returned. The person behind the desk looked at me helplessly and shrugged. “Miss, this is a tricky situation. The money has already been paid, and the deed is in that young lady’s name. If you need help, you’ll have to go to the police.” On my way to the police station, one of the gangsters called again. This time, his tone was growing more impatient. “Ms. Rogers, there’s less than three hours left. Our patience is running out. I hope you’ll deliver the money soon.” I hurriedly sobbed into the phone, “I’m almost there! Just give me a little more time, please!” “We’ve seen you’re heading to the police station. Looks like you don’t want your parents to live,” the gangster snapped. I hurriedly tried to explain, “No, it’s not like that. My husband took all the money, and I was going to the police to get it back. I never intended to…” Before I could finish, the call abruptly ended. I tried calling back, but no one answered.   Now, all I could do was hope that the gangsters had listened to me, that they believed I was only going to the police to raise the money. After hearing my story, the police quickly contacted Lucas and Mandy, demanding that they return the money. I guess they never expected I would go straight to the police like this, but under pressure, Lucas reluctantly returned the money. Even as he handed it over, he spat out a cruel threat, saying I should go home and prepare for a divorce. I ignored him, swiftly took the money, and ran to the location the gangsters had given me. When I arrived at the abandoned factory on the outskirts, I glanced at my phone, my heart sinking as I saw it was already 6:10 p.m. And the gangster’s number was no longer reachable. Clinging to the last shred of hope, I stepped into the factory and knocked on the heavy iron door. The dust that rose from the floor made me cough violently. I peered inside urgently and saw the emptiness that made my heart drop further. I scanned the room, and then I saw two familiar figures in the corner. “Dad! Mom!” I cried out, rushing over in desperation, trying to wake them. But the gangsters, after all, were ruthless. They had no mercy. They hadn’t received the money in time, and they had already gone to work on my parents. My father and mother had deep cuts on their necks, blood pouring from them. My mother was already gone. My father, seeing me, mustered the last of his strength and managed to force a weak smile before collapsing completely into the pool of blood. At that moment, my heart died with them. I numbly knelt in front of them, trying to use my hands to stop the bleeding, but it was hopeless. In the end, I broke down, clutching them, unable to control my tears. At that moment, I no longer cared about anything. I grabbed my phone and dialed the police. After the police arrived and gathered the information, they tried to comfort me, while asking for more details about the gangsters. In the days that followed, I moved back and forth between my house and the police station, desperate to help catch the people who had harmed my parents. Once the police had gathered all the clues, they told me to return home and wait for updates. I began making arrangements for my parents’ funeral. During this time, Lucas never returned home, and I didn’t try to contact him, either. It wasn’t until the day of the funeral that Lucas finally came back. When he saw the house full of mourning attire, he frowned and asked, “What’s going on? Why all this gloom? It’s so… forget it, let’s not talk about that. Do you still have any money? Mandy’s forgiven you for the scene you caused the other day because of me, but she’s looking to buy another place. “This time, to make up for it, you’re going to have to contribute a little. It’ll show you have some sincerity.”

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When my mom fell seriously ill, my husband, Callum Hart, who struggled with a low sperm count, promised he would find a way to help. I gave him all my savings. Pregnant and working late-night shifts as a delivery driver, I passed by a sales office one night and saw Callum—someone who should have been working just as hard as I was—hugging his childhood friend and splurging on a new apartment. “She really thinks I only make a little bit every month. I make twenty thousand dollars, but I told her I only make two thousand dollars. I’ll make sure every penny of my paycheck has a part for you.” I fought back tears as I grabbed at his sleeve, hoping to borrow some money to treat my mom. He swatted my hand away, clearly irritated. “I give you two thousand dollars a month. Isn’t it that enough? Are you wasting it all?” He ignored my desperate cries and walked away, even kicking the baby in my belly he had been dreaming of. Later, he kneeled on the floor, begging me to forgive him, but I was too heartbroken and disillusioned. I didn’t want him anymore. ***** “How could you be delivering this late? It’s already cold! You’re seriously this dumb?” In the pouring rain, I was stuck in traffic during rush hour, and I ended up being a minute late. The customer, furious, threw the entire order at me. All I could do was force a smile, apologizing and offering to compensate her. As I walked out of the building, drenched and looking like a mess, I noticed Callum—who should’ve been working just as hard as me—spending a fortune buying a new apartment for Elara Finch, who had just divorced. “She really thinks I only make a little bit every month. I make twenty thousand dollars, but I told her I only make two thousand dollars. She’s so dumb that she believed me and handed over all her savings, which is exactly why I can afford to buy you this apartment. I’ll make sure every penny of my paycheck has a part for you.” Elara buried her head in Callum’s chest, acting all shy. “Cal, you’re so good to me.” Callum looked incredibly smug. “With the bond we’ve had since we were kids, I’m gonna take care of you for the rest of your life now that you’ve divorced.” I stood there frozen, my eyelids twitching. The sauce on the edge of my hair fell into my eyes. Tears started to pour down my face. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The Callum who used to work overtime tirelessly to pay for my mom’s medical bills, was actually lying to me and buying an apartment for Elara. Shaking, I dialed Callum’s number. After a few hang-ups, he finally answered, clearly annoyed. I asked him when he’d come to the hospital to visit my mom, but he dismissed me with a half-hearted answer. “Honey, I’m working hard to earn money for your mom’s treatment. I really can’t make it to the hospital right now. And even if you care about your mom, you should try to understand my situation. Don’t keep calling me, okay? I need to focus on work.” Listening to the beeping of the phone, I felt as if a huge hand was squeezing my chest, choking my heart. Even now, he was still lying to me. I forced a bitter smile. Callum’s mother had once sacrificed her own life to save him from a fire. She had given him her oxygen mask, not caring about the risk of an explosion, and had pulled him to safety. She inhaled too much smoke and was left with severe health consequences. After Callum and I got married, my mom treated him like her own son. But I never imagined that, in the end, our years of shared struggles would only lead to misery, not happiness. My mom had saved a heartless, selfish man.

I trudged back home, feeling deflated, and looked around at our old, worn-down house that had been our home for over a decade. Just then, my phone buzzed again with a message from Callum. Callum: [Honey, I’ve got to work late at the office tonight. I won’t be coming home. Get some rest, okay?] I lowered my gaze, numb. After a long day, I didn’t even care whether the message was true. I swallowed my emotions and quickly prepared myself to head to the hospital to take care of my mom. Just as I was about to get on my scooter, my phone rang— it was my mom’s doctor. “Your mom’s condition has suddenly worsened, and she’s been rushed into surgery. Get here with the money as soon as you can!” My heart skipped a beat. I let go of the scooter handle, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, my knee scraped up badly. But I didn’t even feel the pain. All I could think about was calling Callum for some money. “Honey, my mom’s situation has worsened. Can you send me some more money?” There was a long pause on the other end, and I could tell he didn’t believe me. “I used up all the money last time we paid the bills. I don’t have anything left, honey. Your mom’s been lying in bed for so many years. You can’t let that drag us down. Maybe it’s time to just let go.” Even now, Callum was still lying to me. I felt like I was about to break. “Please, I know you still have money! Please, just send me some more! My mom is in surgery right now! If we can’t pay, she might not make it!” I heard Elara’s voice in the background, stirring trouble. “Cal, this woman is clearly using you. She’s always asking for money and doesn’t care about your health at all. You should stay away from these two bloodsuckers.” It felt like all the air in my lungs had been squeezed out of me. Working late? In the bedroom of the luxurious apartment he bought for Elara in the city? I scoffed bitterly, but then, remembering all the years Callum and I had spent together, I held on to a glimmer of hope and said, “Honey, I’m not lying. My mom’s really in danger. Please, just send me a little more money to help save her. Think about everything my mom did for you when you were a kid…” But before I could finish, Callum interrupted me with a shout of anger. “It was just your mom saving me from a fire! Isn’t that what any firefighter would do? How long are you going to guilt-trip me over that?” I couldn’t believe it—Callum actually thought like this. My voice trembled as I tried to explain, “That’s not what I meant…” But Callum snapped, “You always want money! Do you ever think about how I’m still stuck at the office working late? Even Ellie understands how hard I work and brings me lunch. But you? You’re out here delivering food to make a quick buck. You just embarrass me in front of my colleagues! Thalia, I’m so disappointed in you.” I stared at the “call ended” screen, trembling. I wiped my wet face and got back on my scooter, speeding into the night. I couldn’t tell if the wetness on my face was from sweat or tears. I only knew that the faster I went, the closer I was to my mom. I sat outside the operating room all night, barely breathing, until they moved my mom into the ICU. Only then did I let out a sigh of relief. “The surgical fees need to be paid quickly, and the follow-up treatments won’t be cheap.” Looking at my mom lying so quietly on the bed, I felt my body slide down onto the cold floor. I didn’t know how long I stayed there before I finally stood up and headed home. There was nothing left to do but this.

I pulled the property deed out of the safe. This house was a gift from my dad before he passed away. It was an old, run-down place, but the location was decent. If I sold it, I should be able to buy some time to deal with the urgent situation. But as I was heading out the door with the deed in my hand, I ran straight into Callum, who was coming home with Elara. “What’s that in your hand?” I told Callum the truth, explaining that I was planning to sell the house to save my mom. Elara, disgusted by my disheveled appearance, pinched her nose and wrapped her arm around Callum’s, saying, “Your mom just has a minor lung condition. What’s with selling the house to fix that? You’re clearly up to something, trying to sell Cal’s property to make life easier for yourself!” I ignored Elara, my mind set on getting to the hospital with the money as fast as possible. But seeing the doubt in Callum’s eyes, I knew he wouldn’t let me sell the house. I gave him a cold, resolute look and said, “Move aside. I have somewhere I need to be.” Just as I was about to push past him to leave, Callum grabbed my wrist. “Thalia, you’re crazy! Your mom just has a little lung condition. How much could it possibly cost? Why are you selling my house?” Shaking, I fumbled through my worn-out bag and pulled out my mom’s diagnosis report. I was about to hand it to Callum when he snatched it from my hands and ripped it to shreds. “Don’t try to fool me with this fake stuff! I’m telling you, I’m not letting you sell my house. I’ve taken care of you two for years, and now you want to sell my property? What’s really going on here?” Callum shoved me to the ground, and the sharp pain in the back of my head made me gasp. “You’re pretending again! You’re just delivering takeout. What’s so exhausting about that?” That was the last straw. My emotions snapped, and I screamed, “My mom’s dying of cancer! I’m selling the house my dad left me to save her life—what’s wrong with that?!” For a moment, Callum’s face went blank, taken aback. Seeing this, Elara quickly jumped in. “Cal, you’ve been with her for so long, and her mom was never seriously ill. How did she suddenly get cancer at this time? They’ve already taken so much from you over the years—maybe this is just another scheme to scam you for more money!” Elara’s words confirmed, in Callum’s eyes, that my mom and I were nothing more than bloodsuckers. Thinking back on all the money my mom’s treatments had cost, Callum’s expression darkened. “We’ve been married for years. You think I don’t know what’s going on with you and your mom? I hate liars like you! Go stay in the room and think about things. I’ll go verify the situation with your mom.” He locked the door behind him, ignoring my cries, and walked away. I collapsed in the corner, hands pressed together, praying desperately that my mom would be okay.   Later that night, Callum came home, holding takeout from the place I used to order from all the time. He knelt down and gently wiped away my tears, his eyes soft—though I couldn’t tell if it was real or just another act. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper with you earlier. I just thought, if you sold the house, we’d have nowhere to live, and your mom wouldn’t have a place to recover when she gets out of the hospital. Please, eat something. Then I’ll take you to see your mom, okay?” I rubbed my eyes, barely able to focus, and started shoveling the food into my mouth. It was like if I ate faster, my mom would get better sooner. “We’ll figure out the money,” Callum continued. “If I apply for a yearlong business trip, my salary will go up from two thousand dollars to six thousand dollars a month. We can manage.” I looked at him, disbelief flooding me. A yearlong business trip? Was he really going on a trip, or was this just an excuse to go be with Elara, who had just gotten divorced? “What’s the matter? You can’t bear to be apart from me?” I suppressed my emotions and shook my head. The priority was getting the money for my mom’s treatment, not worrying about whether or not Callum was cheating. As we sat in the car, I absentmindedly reached up to adjust the visor, hoping to look a little better. But when I opened it, a small note fell out. I immediately knew—it was Elara’s doing, reminding everyone that Callum’s passenger seat was hers alone. I bit my lip and carefully put the note back. Callum, seeing the note, just gave an awkward smile. “It’s from a previous Uber passenger. I was trying to raise money for your mom’s medical expenses. Don’t mind it.” I rubbed my throbbing temples, my head leaning against the window. After everything—his repeated lies—my heart was numb. I would trust him one more time. If he could lie about his salary to buy Elara an apartment, surely he’d pay my mom’s medical bills as her son-in-law. But just as the car stopped at the hospital, I received a message from my mom’s doctor. [Sorry, ma’am. Your mother didn’t make it. Despite efforts, we couldn’t save her.] At that moment, it felt like thunder had struck me. I froze, unable to move. Hearing my phone crash to the ground, Callum came over, confused. “What happened? Can’t even hold your phone straight? We are not able to afford a new phone.” Staring at Callum’s smug expression, my rage erupted. I slammed my fist into his chest. “My mom is dead! If you hadn’t locked me in the house, lied about your salary, and bought Elara an apartment, she wouldn’t have died!” Callum frowned. “How could that be? It’s just a mild case of pneumonia, right?” But then, the realization hit him, and he grabbed me by the collar, shouting, “You’ve been following me!” When he looked at my tear-streaked face, his anger flared even higher. “Answer me! Why the hell were you following me? I earned this money myself, and I have the right to spend it however I want! You two have taken so much from me over the years—how much more do you want? My every penny?!” I struggled, trying to break free and get to the hospital to see my mom one last time, but Callum’s grip was ironclad. “Trying to run away now that your lies have been exposed? I’m trying to do you a favor by taking you to the hospital, and you’ve been lying to me! You’ve really disappointed me. Now go back home and think about who’s in charge!” Desperate, I used all my strength to slap him. My eyes burning with fury, I glared at him and spat, “Callum Hart! I’ll hate you for the rest of my life!” Callum wiped the blood from his lips and slapped me back with a sharp crack. “Get back home and stay there!” he ordered. I refused, my fists flying in a wild frenzy. “Go back to your own house if you want, but I’m staying at the hospital to be with my mom! You want me to come home? Why? You and Elara’s shared home isn’t enough for you?” Furious, Callum kicked me hard. “How dare you insult Ellie?! You want to stay at the hospital? Fine, never come back!” With that, he got in the car and drove off, leaving me in the parking lot. I writhed in agony on the ground, a sharp pain searing through my abdomen. Then, a horrible realization dawned on me— My child was gone. I had planned to surprise Callum with the news, but instead, the child we had both eagerly awaited was lost because of him. Weakly, I crawled through the dimly lit underground parking lot, leaving a trail of blood behind me. All I could think about was seeing my mom one last time. But darkness surrounded me like the claws of a demon, and overwhelming grief and fear gripped my heart. “Callum Hart, I don’t want you anymore. Let’s get a divorce.”

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My always-healthy husband swallowed pills and took his own life at home. My sister barged into the ribbon-cutting ceremony like a mad woman, dragging me away and telling me to hurry up and go see my husband one last time. I had the security escort her out and then calmly release the balloons in my hand to celebrate the opening of the new store. In my past life, when I heard the news, I rushed home without even attending the ribbon-cutting ceremony, only to find my husband already covered with a white sheet, his body lifeless. My father and sister brought out “evidence”, accusing me of domestic abuse, claiming I pushed my husband to death, and they sued me. With both witnesses and evidence, even though the court ruled that I was not guilty, the internet turned on me, and everyone believed that I had driven him to suicide. I became the poster child for “the evil woman” and, in the end, I was killed by a self-proclaimed “hero” with mental issues and stabbed to death in the middle of a busy street. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband took his own life. ***** “Andrea, Logan committed suicide at home. You need to come with me. Hurry. You might still make it to see him one last time,” my sister, Nora Bennett, said, pushing her way through the crowd to drag me to leave. I shook her off. “Can you not make a scene? We’re in the middle of a ceremony. Just behave for a minute, and I promise I’ll buy you that car you’ve been eyeing, okay?” Nora was panicked, her face pale with urgency. “I’m not lying! Logan really killed himself! You need to come with me now!” “Stop talking nonsense. I was just talking to him three hours ago. He was perfectly fine at home. There’s no way he would have committed suicide. Stop causing trouble. Security, get her out of here,” I snapped. The security guards, now with my permission, dragged Nora away despite her protests. I released the balloons in my hand to celebrate the store opening as well as my new lease on life. In my past life, on this exact day, I had been rushing around to get the new store’s opening ceremony ready. And just like now, Nora had barged in, telling me that my husband had taken his life and I needed to go home right away. I panicked, leaving the ceremony before it even started and rushing back. But when I got home, all I saw was my husband’s body, covered by a white sheet. I collapsed to the floor in tears, shouting at him for being so cruel, for leaving me behind alone. But Nora, who had just moments ago been comforting me, suddenly turned cold. She grabbed me, telling me to stop pretending, accusing me of acting. I stood frozen, unsure of what was happening. She said she’d seen the bruises on Logan more than once, and with tears, she explained that Logan had been depressed and that I should have just divorced him to set him free. The people around us, not knowing the truth, believed Nora’s words, calling me vicious and heartless. At that moment, my father showed up. I looked at him with hope, praying that he would defend me, that he would speak up for me. But instead, he looked at me with disappointment. “I told you a thousand times, treat Logan better. But you never listened. Every time something went wrong, you took it out on him. “I raised you not to compare yourself to others, but you were always eyeing your friends’ husbands, thinking Logan wasn’t good enough. You beat him every day, verbally and physically. “Now, Logan is dead because of you, and you’re crying like you lost a pet. What’s this, regret? Regret that you lost your punching bag?” His words were a tirade, and he painted me as a selfish, vain, and malicious woman. The crowd around us joined in the accusations. I couldn’t take the humiliation anymore, so I called the police to clear my name. But the investigation confirmed that Logan had indeed committed suicide. And they found a Twitter account on his backup phone, filled with years of notes detailing how I had abused him, how he had suffered in silence. Nora also produced a camera, claiming it was a package Logan had sent her before his death, asking her to show everyone my “true face”. The video was damning. It showed me from behind, violently attacking Logan. Forensic experts found signs of abuse and physical trauma all over Logan’s body. I was branded as a villain, an evil woman, and the online mob came after me. They sent me hateful messages, wishing for my death. A few days later, I was killed in the street by a self-righteous psychopath, who stabbed me repeatedly in broad daylight, with people cheering him on. The street was crowded, but no one tried to help me. Instead, they praised the killer, calling him a hero for “getting rid of scum”. I still didn’t understand why, in my past life, everything turned against me so quickly. Why did I end up completely abandoned by everyone?

Three hours after realizing I had been reincarnated, the first thing I did was push down the overwhelming emotions and call my husband on a video call. “Honey, where are you? The ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new store is about to start. I’ll pick you up so we can go together.” My husband was silent for a moment before replying, “I’m at home, having an online meeting with my colleagues. I probably won’t be able to join you. Why are you being so clingy today? Don’t worry. I’ll stay home and won’t go out hitting on anyone.” Worried that I might not believe him, he flipped the camera around, showing me he was indeed at home. “If something’s bothering you or if I’ve done something to upset you, just let me know. Don’t bottle it up.” He laughed brightly, “Silly, you’re the best wife in the world. I cherish you so much. How could I ever be mad at you?” His answer was warm and familiar, so natural it didn’t even seem forced. This video call didn’t ease my doubts. It only made them worse. At this moment, there were only three hours left before he would take his own life, yet he seemed completely normal—no sign of someone about to end it all. But why, three hours from now, would he make such a drastic decision? As I pondered this, my assistant called to remind me that the ceremony was about to begin. The assistant was one of the few people I trusted fully, and after some hesitation, I decided to downplay everything, telling her a little white lie about a “friend” and asking if she had any thoughts on the situation. She paused for a moment and then said, “Ms. Bennett, what if this whole thing is a setup targeting your friend? It’s possible that your friend’s father has been unhappy with them for a long time.” “No way,” I blurted out. My dad had always spoiled me, and for over 20 years, we’d had a close father-daughter relationship. He favored me more than he did Nora, so how could he ever have the heart to harm me? But my assistant’s words still made some sense. If my dad truly loved me the way he showed, then why, after Logan’s death in my past life, did he immediately accuse me of pushing Logan to suicide without giving me a chance to explain? Why did he throw me into a storm of public opinion and bring me to court? There was definitely something off about Logan’s death. But where was the problem? The details of my past life kept replaying in my mind as I tried to piece things together. It took me almost half an hour before I suddenly snapped out of my thoughts. I looked at the still-open video call screen and immediately turned to my assistant. “You don’t have to go to the ceremony. Go check something for me. If you get it done, I’ll give you a bonus.” The bonus was far more appealing than the ceremony. By the time I’d given my instructions, my assistant was full of energy, saying she’d get to the bottom of it. I took a car to the new store. The allure of money was powerful. In just an hour and a half, my assistant had gathered all the information. I looked at the documents in my hand, and my heart sank. I never imagined that my entire life so far had been built on lies. I quietly pulled my assistant aside. “There’s one more thing, but don’t let anyone else know.” After giving her my instructions, I returned to the ceremony, trying to block out my swirling thoughts and focus on preparing for the event.

By the time the ceremony ended, the news that Andrea Bennett, the famous businesswoman, had found her husband dead at home from a suicide had already gone viral. As a semi-public figure, our every move was scrutinized by people with ulterior motives, including competitors. Now that such a major incident had occurred, the crowd of onlookers had already gathered outside our door. Everyone was in perfect sync, holding up their phones to record videos or stream live. I clicked on the hottest live stream. Nora appeared on the screen. She was sitting on the floor, a white cloth covering Logan’s body in front of her. She said, “Logan, you were so stupid. You had the courage to kill yourself, but you didn’t have the guts to just run away. “It’s our fault. If I had told Andrea about how she liked to hit people and told you that I’ve been bullied by her all my life, maybe you wouldn’t have married her. You wouldn’t have lost your life so young.” She continued crying, “Dad, Andrea went too far this time. I told her Logan was dead and asked her to come see him one last time, but not only did she refuse, she had security kick me out. “She didn’t even care that Logan was her husband, the person she spent every day with. There wasn’t a single expression of sorrow on her face. How could anyone be so cold-hearted?” Nora’s words were barely finished before my dad walked into the frame. He looked at the camera, his teeth clenched, seething with anger. “Andrea, you ungrateful piece of crap, is your work really more important than Logan? Why didn’t you believe Nora when she told you Logan killed himself? Instead, you had her thrown out. “You pushed him to his death, and now, you won’t even come to see him one last time? How could you be so heartless? I don’t care where you are, but you better get your ass back here right now.” Nora’s crying had already stirred the anger of the livestream viewers, and now, with my dad’s words, the attacks grew even harsher. The comments exploded, calling me every kind of insult. The viewers were furious, and the crowd outside, even more enraged, began chanting curses, wishing death upon me. Seeing that the crowd was in the right mood, I drove back to the neighborhood. When I arrived, the place was surrounded, and there was no way in. As soon as I stepped out of the car, someone with sharp eyes recognized me. “That evil woman’s back! Get her!” The crowd’s fury erupted all at once. Things were thrown at me from all directions. Thankfully, my professional bodyguards had prepared for this. They opened two large umbrellas, shielding most of the attacks. “How dare she fend off? Look at her. She’s even wearing makeup!” “What a shameless bitch. Her husband just died, and she’s still decked out. Is she celebrating her husband’s death?” “Even a murderer would have more compassion than her!” The police arrived around the same time we did and immediately began setting up a perimeter to control the crowd. With their help, the crowd parted just enough for me to walk through with the officers. The moment I stepped in front of them, my dad rushed forward and slapped me hard across the face. He roared, “You piece of garbage, what did Logan ever do to deserve this? Why did you have to push him to the point of suicide? If I don’t get you thrown in jail today, I won’t be able to face Logan.” His voice was so full of anguish and pain that every word was charged with emotion, stirring up the crowd even further. Had it not been for the fact that I was the target of his fury, I would have joined in and cursed myself. After my dad finished, Nora, with a look of utter disappointment, turned to the police. “Sir, I want to file a report. I have evidence that proves Logan was driven to death. I hope you’ll uphold the law and arrest this evil woman.” Nora, standing right in front of the camera, showed the video she’d pre-recorded. She continued, “This is a package Logan sent me before he died. He told me to wait for the right moment to show it so everyone could see what kind of evil woman Andrea really is.” Over the past few hours, they had gathered enough evidence to build a strong case. Nora looked at me with a sneer. “You think Logan was some orphan with no one to fight for him? No! We’re his family. We’ve got witnesses and evidence. Just wait, Andrea. You’ll have to pay for what you’ve done.” And in front of the police, I did something that nobody expected.

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There was a fire at home. As a firefighter, my husband was the first to rescue our son and the kitten from his first love. In a rush to calm his panicked first love, he hurried out. When the other firefighters asked if anyone else was still inside, our son glanced in my direction and shook his head. “There’s no one else.” Later, I was rescued, but in critical condition. My son waited outside my hospital room, his face full of regret. “Why didn’t you just die in there? If you’d died, Cece could be my mom.” ***** When I heard those cruel words come from my son’s innocent voice, I couldn’t help but shake with disbelief. “Theo Latham, I’m your mother! How could you say that to me?” Theo, whose face looked almost exactly like my husband Victor’s, showed a flash of disgust. “So what if you’re my mom? You’ve never been good to me! I wish you’d just die already so Dad could marry Cece.” He snorted, pressing his hand hard on the wound in my abdomen. Five years ago, I gave birth to him, and the pain nearly tore me apart, leaving a long scar on my belly. Five years later, he pressed his hand onto the same spot. Watching me twist in pain, he smiled, clearly satisfied. “This is your punishment. Cece could’ve been Dad’s wife! I’m going to see Muffin now. You stay here, you evil woman!” With that, Theo turned and left. I was left alone in the sterile hospital room. I stared at the white ceiling, the pain still eating at me. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. I overheard nurses whispering as they passed by. They said how sorry they felt for me—alone in my hospital bed, with no family, not even a caregiver. Yeah, I was pitiful. What did I really get out of these seven years with Victor? Neither he nor Theo—my own son, the one I’d struggled to bring into this world—cared more about Celeste Harper than me. In their eyes, I didn’t even rank higher than Celeste’s cat Muffin. During the fire, I protected Theo and ended up trapped under a collapsed bookshelf. Victor, the fire captain, ignored the warnings of his teammates and rushed in to save us. But he didn’t even look at me as he carried Theo, unharmed, and the cat Celeste left at our house. They all left the scene without a second glance. I thought he would come back for me. I waited for rescue, but then I overheard Theo talking with the other firefighters. “Theo, your dad took the cat to the hospital. Is there anyone else still inside?” I was almost suffocating, smoke clouding my vision. But for some reason, Theo’s voice cut through clearly. “There’s no one else. You don’t need to go in.” Victor’s teammates praised him for being so mature. But as I lay there, a cold wave of dread washed over me. How could there be no one else? Theo had just been pushed away by me, barely missing the bookshelf. Why was he lying? The pressure in my chest intensified, and I screamed for help with whatever strength I had left. Finally, someone noticed me and I was saved, rushed to the hospital. But the son I had loved so deeply had just said he wished I were dead. Tears welled up in my eyes. Surviving that ordeal, I felt like everything clicked into place. What was meant to be wouldn’t be forced. I didn’t need Victor, and I didn’t need Theo.

I spent a full month in the hospital. I’d been trapped for so long that I suffered serious inhalation injuries and had to be intubated to clear my lungs. The pain from the burns was a new kind of torture every time they changed the dressings. A month felt like an entire year. But during all that time, neither Victor nor Theo had come to see me once. I tried not to care, but it stung when I saw other families reunited. The day I was discharged, the sun hit me, and for a moment, I felt dizzy. I thought back to when Victor and I first met. The weather that day was just like today—perfect. We were set up by friends of our parents. He was a firefighter, and I was a teacher. He was an only child, and so was I. He liked peace and quiet, enjoyed reading, while I was happy staying home watching movies and tending to my garden. It felt like fate. We had endless conversations, found so much in common, and naturally, we ended up together. But on our wedding day, I saw a message on Victor’s phone from someone named “Cece.” Cece texted: [Congrats. You got what you wanted.] Victor stared at it for a long time. At the time, I thought nothing of it. I assumed she was just a close friend who couldn’t make it to the wedding. That was why Victor looked so distracted. But it wasn’t until this year, when she came back from studying abroad and Victor was crying out her name after meeting her at a school reunion, that I realized how naive I’d been. I went into a frenzy, digging into their past. Celeste was Victor’s first love. Their relationship had been passionate, and intense. He was quiet, and studious, while she was spoiled and rebellious. In school, Celeste had barely scraped by. Victor came from a poor family. Their hobbies were worlds apart. But somehow, against all odds, they made it through high school and university together. Until Celeste went abroad for grad school and broke up with him. After two years, Victor met me. The message Celeste sent—about him getting what he wanted—was her response to their breakup. Victor had told her that he wouldn’t wait for her, and that he’d marry someone more suitable for him. And I was that someone. When I found out all of this, it felt like my heart was being slowly sliced apart. If this had happened before, I probably would’ve gotten a divorce, unable to deal with such a tainted love. But looking at my son, still in elementary school, I stayed silent. I let the weight of all this emotional dust settle deep inside me.

I got in the car, and headed back to the house. It wasn’t the one that burned down. It was the other house—the one that hadn’t been destroyed in the fire. When Victor and I got married, his family bought us a house, and mine bought another one. The one that burned down was Victor’s house. But I didn’t expect, when I turned the key and opened the door, to see not Victor and Theo… But Celeste, wearing my pajamas and acting like she owned the place. “I thought Victor was back.” She pouted, muttering under her breath, then slipped on my slippers, and walked back to the living room. That was when I saw it—the home I’d carefully picked out, the one I’d put my heart and soul into decorating, now in complete disarray. The white carpet that I’d always kept spotless was stained with oil. I didn’t ask her why she was there. The answer was obvious. Who else but the father and son—who practically worshipped Celeste—would do something like this? But not asking didn’t stop some people from wanting to show off. Celeste lay back on my sofa, munching on chips, crumbs falling into the crevices, and she didn’t even bother to clean up. I frowned slightly, but she just found it amusing. “Can’t stand it, can you? But your husband and son both love my carefree style. Naomi, do you know what they say about you? You’re only in your thirties, but you act like an old lady. With your personality, how could anyone like you? It’s even worse now, isn’t it? I heard your skin’s all burned up?” As she said this, she grinned and started to lift my shirt. I quickly pulled away, but she still caught a glimpse of the scars. The gruesome, terrifying marks made this spoiled rich girl take a step back, and before she could steady herself, she fell to the ground. “Cece, Dad and I brought Muffin back!” Theo came in just then, holding the kitten. He saw the scene and immediately put the cat down, rushing to stand in front of Celeste like a hero. “You evil woman! You were trying to hurt Cece again!” He had cat fur all over him. As soon as he came close, I could barely breathe. I quickly grabbed some antihistamines from my bag. Just as I was about to take a pill, Theo jumped up and snatched the bottle from my hand. “Apologize to Cece, or I’m not giving you your medicine!” I stared coldly at this child I carried for nine months and gave birth to. Theo was a preemie. When he was born, he was tiny, and he’s always been physically weak, and prone to illness. I lost count of the times I’d taken him to the hospital. Later, under the doctor’s guidance, I strictly controlled his diet and even made him go out and exercise. Since Celeste came back, she’d clearly been filling his head with nonsense. He was just a grade-schooler, yet he’d started saying I took away his freedom. At first, I thought he was just talking nonsense, but after the fire, I realized he truly hated me. I wish I could turn back time and not have brought him into this world. I didn’t do as Theo expected and groveled at Cece’s feet. Instead, I pulled out a fresh pack of pills from my bag, gave him a mocking glance, and swallowed one. Theo froze for a moment and then lunged at me, trying to hit me. If this had happened before, maybe I would have stood there, letting him take out his frustration on me, knowing he was weak. But now, all I had to do was give him a light shove, and Theo was on the floor. “With this little strength, you think you can play the hero?”   Theo didn’t react with the same anger as before. Instead, he stared at me, looking a bit confused. After all, before this, I never even raised my voice at him, let alone laid a hand on him. If he’d gotten a scratch, I’d be a wreck. “You pushed me? How could you push me?” His face was full of confusion and hurt. Celeste quickly grabbed a box of chicken tenders. “Don’t argue with this kind of person, Theo. Here, have some chicken tenders. Don’t be upset.” “Hmph, Cece’s the best!” Theo grabbed the tenders from her hand and started eating with gusto. But his eyes kept darting back to me, as if waiting for my reaction. Theo had a weak stomach, and I rarely let him eat junk food like this. But I didn’t care anymore. I shot him a cold glance and turned to leave. Just as I was heading out the door, I ran into Victor, who was carrying bags of snacks and fruits from the store. He seemed surprised to see me here and froze for a moment. Theo, sensing his chance, ran to him and started tattling. “Dad, you’re finally back! When I opened the door, I saw her she push Cece down, and now she’s pushing me! I don’t want her as my mom anymore. Can you divorce her and let Cece be my mom?” Celeste stood by, watching me with a smug expression. “Your temper’s getting worse! So what if you got hurt in the fire? You’ve already been discharged from the hospital. Cece’s going through a hard time at home, dealing with depression, and she’s alone. Why do you have to make things harder for her? Can’t you be a little kinder?” I didn’t look at Victor, but my gaze fell on the bags in his hands. I’d asked him so many times to help me buy things around the house because I couldn’t carry them myself, but he always made excuses. “Too busy with work,” he’d say, or “I’m too tired” when he had a day off. It wasn’t a matter of time or strength. He just didn’t want to do it. A bitter smile tugged at my lips, and I didn’t know if I’d just triggered something in Victor. His expression darkened. “Apologize to Cece!” He ordered, just like so many times before. I couldn’t help but reflect on how I’d always let him call the shots. I flexed my wrist and swung my arm, slapping Victor across the face. Victor stood there, stunned. Theo and Celeste were both frozen in shock. None of them had expected me to hit Victor. “We’re getting a divorce. The kid stays with you. I don’t want him.” I walked out the door without looking back. But I could still hear them behind me. “Victor, don’t get mad. She’s just throwing a tantrum.” “Yeah, yeah, she wouldn’t be giving up custody if she really wanted a divorce. If only she’d actually divorce you, Cece could finally be my mom.” I smiled to myself. She would be.

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Li’s first love has returned. It was time for me, who had been his mistress for nine years to leave. But he begged me to stay.

At eighteen, I found myself on the muddy bank of the river, tears streaming down my face as students of my mother, Lily Lane, walked massive wolfhounds whose jaws sank into my flesh. Writhing in agony, I dialed my mother’s number, desperate for her to come to my rescue. But when she answered, her voice was as frigid as the winter wind. “My students are all well-behaved,” she sneered, “unlike you, you little liar. You’re always trying to hurt others. “You must have provoked those dogs on purpose. If you get bitten to death, it’ll be your own fault. My innocent student would never do such a thing. Stop pretending to be the victim!” The bitterness between us had been brewing since I was ten. A frantic phone call I made had sent my father, Jason Reed, speeding recklessly down that same road, and his car plunged into the raging river beneath the bridge. His body was never recovered. From that day forward, I became my mother’s greatest enemy. Every year on the anniversary of my father’s death, she would drag me to that same riverbank, forcing me to my knees in a cruel ritual of penance. Years later, after I had been torn apart by those wolfhounds, my father, who had faked his death to escape his debts, returned unscathed. When my mother learned the truth, the shock sent her spiraling into madness. ***** A video suddenly popped up in the teachers’ group chat. In the grainy footage, police officers were photographing a mutilated body in a sandpit. The voiceover, belonging to the math teacher, Max Blake, trembled as he relayed the gruesome rumors. “They say the victim was killed by an animal and then dismembered by the killer. The methods were horrifyingly brutal. What a monster. The poor victim must have suffered immensely.” Lily’s eyes reddened, a look of deep sorrow and pity etching itself onto her face. A bitter sadness surged in my chest, tightening my throat. I thought, “Mom, if you knew it was me who had died, would your heart ache just as much? Probably not. After all, in your eyes, I was always the one who had killed Dad. But, Mom, do you know? It really hurt.” “Yes, the police found the victim’s backpack, but everything inside had been discarded by the killer.” Max passed around a photo of the backpack. Lily glanced at it, her eyes falling on the patchwork of worn-out fabric. She sighed and shook her head. Even as a ghost, I felt my heart ached uncontrollably. I murmured, “Mom, you’ve forgotten, haven’t you? That backpack was my tenth birthday present from you. “Of course, you’ve always seen me as a thorn in your side because of Dad. How could you possibly care about the state of my backpack? “Yet, I carried it with me for eight long years.” As the school bell rang, my spirit was inexplicably drawn to follow Lily into the classroom. When we passed by the first row, where a student was coughing softly, Lily stopped. Her face was etched with concern as she inquired about the student’s well-being. For the first time, I saw the maternal warmth she had never shown me. But that tender expression froze the moment her eyes landed on my empty seat. She snorted, her face twisting with disdain. “Boys and girls, never follow the example of someone who thinks they’re above the rules just because they’ve managed to pull off a few good grades. A troublemaker is a troublemaker. In the end, they’ll only become worthless scum, a stain on society.” The students remained unfazed, having heard such words countless times before. No matter how well I performed academically or how much I contributed to the class, I was always the black sheep in her eyes. In her eyes, I would always be the worst, the most foolish student, the most wicked and vindictive daughter. All that remained was a dull, searing pain, as if my heart had been carved with a blunt blade. I realized then that heartache never becomes easier to bear. As soon as the bell rang to signal the end of class, Lily stormed over to the assistant principal, Michael Smith, urging him to give me a major demerit and announce it to the entire school. She couldn’t wait for another opportunity to humiliate me in front of everyone. Only when Michael nodded in agreement did her face finally break into a rare smile. It was as if the more she hurt me, the lighter her own burden became. Hearing the commotion, George Roberts, the principal, hurried over. His face was filled with concern as he asked, “Samantha has always been well-behaved and obedient. She’s not the type to skip class without reason. Surely something must have happened to her?” “What could happen to a murderer like her? She’s probably just being lazy, dodging class. If something did happen, it’s her own karma.” Lily’s expression darkened. George and Michael exchanged uneasy glances, shaking their heads in silent resignation. I couldn’t help but let out a bitter, ghostly laugh. I murmured, “Mom, it’s not that I didn’t want to come to school. It’s that I no longer had the chance to step through those doors. I was already dead. “And it was you who left me by the riverside last night when I was feverish and vulnerable. That’s where I was tormented and killed by those men. “If this is truly my karma, then I accept it willingly. “But Mom, could you please stop hating me?”

After school, as Lily drove past the narrow alley behind the school, her sharp eyes caught sight of a group of students viciously beating another boy. She screeched to a halt, abandoning the car as she leaped out and forced the attackers away. Without a moment’s hesitation, she helped the injured student into her car and drove straight to the hospital to get the wounds treated and bandaged. When she saw the bruises and cuts, her eyes welled up with tears of compassion. She couldn’t bear to see a child suffer like this. Without wasting a moment, she returned to the school and spent the entire night uncovering the identities of the bullies. The culprits were identified and punished, and the victim was finally safe. As always, the victim and his parents came to thank Lily. They bowed deeply, but Lily simply smiled, brushing it off. “Protecting my students is my duty as a teacher,” she said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. To prevent such incidents in the future, she organized a school-wide anti-bullying seminar. Standing onstage, she passionately denounced the horrors of bullying. To her students, she was a beacon of justice, a guardian angel. But my heart felt as if it had been stabbed by a sharp sword, twisting in an agony I could barely endure. The very person everyone regarded as a peacekeeper chose to side with the tormentors while her own daughter was being humiliated and bullied. Back then, because of the way she singled me out in front of the entire class, I became isolated. The isolation quickly snowballed into full-blown bullying. They would publicly humiliate me, shouting insults and slurs. Tearing up my test papers and flinging my backpack around were daily occurrences. They also pinned things on me that I never did, smearing my reputation and spinning vicious lies just to tear me down. All I could do was endure it in silence, alone. Lily was already worn out from taking care of the other students every day, and I didn’t want to add to her stress. If I could just nail the role of the ideal, dutiful daughter, I believed there was a chance Lily might not loathe me quite so much. But one day, it all escalated. They dragged me into the bathroom and beat me with a mop until I was covered in bruises. I tried my best to hide the injuries, but Lily noticed. “What happened to you?” she asked. At her question, the floodgates of my emotions burst open, and I sobbed as I told her everything. But instead of sympathy, her face twisted into a mask of fury. “You’re lying! I know my students! They’re all kind and innocent. “It’s you who’s the problem! You killed your father, and now you’re trying to ruin my students? Are you trying to spite me? Is that it? “There’s no daughter more wicked than you! Why are you even alive?” Before I could react, her hand flew through the air, and a sharp slap landed on my cheek. I cradled my cheek, where the sting burned, as I tried to explain. I showed her the threatening letters they had left in my locker, hoping the evidence would make her believe me. But she didn’t even glance at them. Instead, she snatched the papers from my hands and tore them to shreds. “Why would they pick on you and not someone else? It’s because you’re the one who’s done something terrible! “You deserve every bit of this, you little monster!” Her words struck me like physical blows, each one cutting deeper than the last. The quiet living room echoed with my sobs. She shot me a look filled with contempt, as though I were nothing more than trash, before she turned on her heel and strode away. My heart shattered into a million pieces. “Mom, can’t you trust me just this once?” I whispered. “Can’t you look at me, really look at me, for once? Yes, it was me. I’m the reason my father is dead. How could I ever think I deserve her sympathy?” Surprisingly, Lily had scheduled me for cleaning duty with the very same group that had given me trouble before. Usually, such tasks were the class president’s domain. “Mom, this wasn’t intentional, right?” I asked. Yet, she turned away from my silent plea, leaving me chilled to the core. “What’s shouting going to do for you?” one of them taunted as we cleaned. “If your own mom has given up on you, who do you think is left to protect you?” “I heard you’re why your dad’s gone. No surprise your mom can’t stand you. She put us on duty together on purpose, didn’t she? Then, we could all get a chance to give you a piece of her mind, huh? She probably wishes we’d beat you to death. It’s just so pathetic. Tell me, what’s the point of you even being alive?”

The pain of the beating was nothing compared to the agony of my shattered heart. Yet, I fought with every ounce of strength I had left, screaming and pleading for help. I thought, “What they were saying about my mother couldn’t be true. Surely, if she heard my cries, she would come running. If she saw the violence with her own eyes, she would finally believe me.” Through my tear-blurred vision, I thought I saw her standing in the doorway. The room fell deathly silent as everyone froze, their hands mid-strike. The empty classroom echoed with my desperate screams. “Mom, save me! Mom, please…” But she only glanced at me coldly as I lay sprawled on the floor, even if my face was covered in blood. Then, without a word, she stepped back and quietly closed the door. I felt my soul go numb. My chest was crushed by the weight of her rejection. I gagged, spitting out a mouthful of blood. The blows rained down harder and faster, but I no longer felt the pain. My body was numb. “Mom, you’re really not going to save me? Is this what you want? For me to die?” I murmured. But I didn’t die that day. I was saved by Selena Chase, who had come looking for me. I was rushed to the hospital with multiple fractures and spent a month bedridden. Lily visited the hospital only once to warn me not to go to the police and cause a fuss. Selena, furious on my behalf, tried to argue. Lily frowned and sharply retorted, “You’re alive, aren’t you? What more do you want? You’re just trying to ruin my reputation and get me fired!” Slamming the door behind her, she walked away, leaving me to wail in silence. It was only when Selena called her father, the school board chairman, that the matter was finally resolved. When I finally pulled myself out of the painful memories, tears were already streaming down my face, and my heart was gripped by an intense, squeezing pain. I suddenly realized I was already back home, following Lily, who frowned in irritation when she couldn’t find me. “That troublemaker still isn’t back? Maybe she’ll just die out there,” she muttered, storming toward the couch. But as she stepped on a stray pill on the floor, her expression changed. She picked it up, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “She’s probably faking it again,” she scoffed with an eye roll. “Since when does she just ‘happen’ to get feverish?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Mom, don’t you remember? This fever was your doing.” On the anniversary of Jason’s death, I had accidentally knocked over a plate of food. In a fit of rage, Lily had thrown me out of the house, forcing me to stand in the freezing winter wind wearing nothing but thin pajamas. Amidst the howling gales of the north, where thermometers drop to chilling depths, I froze, each breath crystallizing in the air. When she finally opened the door, I thought she had calmed down with joyous surprise. But instead of letting me in, she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me outside. “Today is the day you kneel by the river! Hurry up!” she yelled. Snowflakes fell on my burning forehead, melting instantly. I pushed through the pain as I implored with all the strength I could muster, “Mom, this fever’s killing me. Can I just not go tonight?” “Dream on! You’re a murderer. Even if you’re on your last breath, you’ll kneel by that river!” Despair flooded my heart, and my tears froze on my cheeks. “I see, Mom. I’ll take my medicine and go.” But before I could even reach for the pills, she slapped them out of my hand. “You’re always lying or pretending to be sick. If there’s any justice in this world, you should have died in your father’s place!” she shouted, yanking me by the hair and dragging me to the car. At the riverbank, the icy wind sliced through me like a blade. I could barely stand. With every last shred of my strength, I clung to the car door and pleaded through tears, “Mom, please, don’t leave me. I’ll die…” But her response was a cold, brutal kick that sent me sprawling onto the icy ground. “If you’re going to die, then do it far away from me! I’m done with you. I’m sick of looking at your face!” I lay there in the freezing snow, watching helplessly as her car sped away until it vanished into the distance. I whispered, “Mom, did you really just leave me? “Mom, I’m unwell.” I jolted awake, startled by the furious barking of dogs. The bullies who had once made my life a living hell were now stumbling toward me. Their breath was heavy with the stench of liquor as their faces contorted into vicious smirks. At their side, the dogs growled, their eyes gleaming with a ravenous hunger as they bared their teeth, saliva dripping from their jaws. My hands trembled as I fumbled for my phone, dialing Lily’s number in a desperate plea for help. But all I heard were her cold, accusing words. When the call ended, my heart shattered, sinking into a void. I knew I would never see her again. “Mom, do you even know what this feels like? “The dogs tore into me, and the pain was unbearable. “The river water swallowed me whole, so cold it felt like it was stealing my soul. “Mom, I did as you wished. I’m gone now. I hope you’re happy without me,” I thought. A deafening clap of thunder jolted Lily awake. She glanced out the window at the storm raging outside as the relentless rain pounded against the glass. A flicker of unease crossed her face as she paced nervously around the room. Then, the doorbell rang. “You wretched thing. You still had the audacity to come back…”   When Lily finally made out who it was standing in the doorway, her brow furrowed in annoyance. “Why is it you?” she mumbled. Selena stood there, drenched to the bone, her entire body trembling with urgency. “Is Samantha okay? She hasn’t been to school in three days, and I can’t reach her. Have you heard anything?” Selena was my only friend. Despite being in different classes, we checked in on each other every single day, sharing our studies and our lives. We were inseparable, more like sisters than friends. But Lily turned her head away and muttered, “Who knows where that troublemaker has disappeared to? Probably ran off with some punk.” Selena’s body shook with rage, her fists clenching at her sides. “At a time like this, you’re spreading rumors about your own daughter? Do you even have a heart? “Samantha is cursed to have a mother like you. “You’re not caring about her whereabouts, huh? Fine, I’ll find her myself!” As Selena pulled out her phone to dial 911, Lily lunged forward, snatching the phone from her hand and smashing it onto the ground. “Who said you could butt in?” Lily shouted. “Even if Samantha is dead, it’s her own fault. What right do you have to call the police?” I watched her indifferent face as my heart was heavy with sorrow. Even a friend I’d known for less than half a year was searching for me, yet my mother couldn’t care less about my well-being. I murmured, “Maybe they’re right, Mom. You’ve always wished I was gone. And now, I am, just as you wanted.” Tears mingled with rain on Selena’s cheeks as she screamed in despair, “Lily Lane, you’ll regret this!” Then, she turned and ran back into the storm. I longed to hold my friend to wipe away her tears, but my transparent ghostly form couldn’t touch her. As I stood there, heartbroken and helpless, Lily suddenly fished her phone out of her pocket and started dialing my number. I shook my head and sighed, “My phone is lying at the bottom of a cold river. How could you possibly reach me, Mom?” When no one answered, Lily staggered into the house, and her shoulders slumped. I was bewildered and thought, “Weren’t you supposed to be happy, Mom? Isn’t this what you wanted?” Another frantic knock echoed through the house. Lily, already on edge, yanked the door open irritably. “What now…” Her voice cut off as her eyes landed on the visitor. Her body trembled uncontrollably as she clung to the doorframe for support. I turned, startled, to see who had arrived. Standing in the doorway was the man Lily had pined for all those years and the one who filled me with endless guilt. It was my father who had been “dead” for eight years. He was back, alive.

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My brother, Edward Blair, was baking a cake with Emma Thompson when I was locked in the tank by the killer. While my trachea was slowly cut open, and I could only let out agonized gasps, Edward coldly said on the other end of the phone, “Madison, you didn’t come back for Dad’s death anniversary. You’re so heartless. “Emma begged you to go see Dad, and you actually injured her. You have to apologize to Emma before you go to hell, even if you die.” Later, Edward personally dissected my body and analyzed the tragedy. But he didn’t know that the body he saw close at hand belonged to his own sister. ***** My body was fished out of the river. The salvage man was grim-faced as he stated the facts of the case to the police, “I thought I’d fish out the garbage while it wasn’t dark, but I didn’t realize that something had hit the fishing net.” As a leading forensic scientist, my brother Edward Blair was rushed to the scene of the crime by a phone call from his team leader, Frank Smith. He was still wearing a flour-stained apron. Frank frowned and said in a somewhat low voice, “Are you spending Madison’s birthday with her?” Edward froze and shook his head. “Emma wanted to eat the cake I baked. I don’t know where Madison’s been fooling around. She hasn’t been home in days, and I don’t care.” He seemed to have forgotten that it was my birthday. How ironic! Tears blurred my eyes. In a trance, I saw a young Edward smiling as he set the cupcake in front of me and said, “Madison, I’ll be there for you on every birthday from now on.” Now, I watched Edward take off his ridiculous apron, put on his gloves with a serious face, and get to work. My body was wrapped in a black bag, emitting a foul odor. Edward opened the bag, looking at the body, and froze. The body had almost no epidermis, exposing bare flesh that was soaked white. The only thing left of the corpse’s features was a nose, causing one’s heart to palpitate just by looking at it. But Edward didn’t even frown and ordered his assistant, Liam Ward, “Extract the DNA. This situation can only be compared with the database.” Liam said in surprise, “Edward, I think I’ve seen Madison wearing these shoes of the deceased.” I’d been stepped on by Liam earlier when I’d brought Edward his food. He was a bit embarrassed at the time and complimented me on my nice shoes, but I didn’t think he would recognize them. I had bought a pair of these shoes for Edward as well. Only, unfortunately, he hadn’t unpacked them since the beginning. Edward reprimanded in a muffled voice, saying, “Don’t mention irrelevant people. Mentioning her is insulting the dead.” I sighed gently, unable to keep my lips from trembling. In Edward’s mind, any dead person he handled was far more important than me. And I was a stain on his life. He finished the first autopsy quickly and sighed, “Let’s go back and check the stomach contents and liver temperature.” Watching the body being put into a bag, Frank patted Edward on the shoulder. “Edward, the victim was abused, right? That’s not an easy case.” It was nightfall when the body was found, and many walkers stood by to watch. The news of the body being recovered from the park spread quickly. Kevin Durant, the police chief, gave orders to solve the case as soon as possible to avoid social unrest. Frank patted Edward on the shoulder. “How many days will you probably need?” Edward rubbed his brow in some annoyance. “The body was dumped in the river in the park, and it was extremely damaged. Don’t get your hopes up.” I wanted to reach out and smooth Edward’s furrowed brow. But I couldn’t touch him. I’d always thought that my rigid relationship with Edward was a hindrance to our getting along. But at this moment, I realized that life and death were the great divide between Edward and me. I never had the chance to hear Edward call me sister again.

Frank sat in the conference room with a worried look on his face. He was holding an unlit cigarette. “This kind of case where we don’t know the origin of the body is the toughest.” A police officer speculated and said, “The corpse is so tragic. Could it be a crime of passion?” Edward shook his head. “The time of death is around three days. The victim was abused and then drowned. The killer’s motive does need to be sorted out.” Frank suddenly thought of something and looked at Edward. “Edward, Madison is a famous psychologist, and Rivarity City authorities invited her to give a lecture on criminal psychology some time ago. Ask her to analyze this case…” Before he could finish, Edward interrupted with a sharp voice, “Madison? She’s just a fake expert with a false reputation. Who dares to use someone as ruthless as her?” Liam, who was at the side, pressed his lips and whispered, “Madison is not that kind of person.” Edward snorted coldly and slammed the pen in his hand on the table. He said, “I know best what kind of person she is. I won’t work with her on this case. I’m going to the autopsy first.” Frank shook his head and ordered helplessly, “What are you guys waiting for? Go and extract traces from the scene, visit the witnesses in groups, and take statements.” After that, he looked at Edward’s back and muttered, “With this attitude towards his sister, he’ll regret it one day sooner or later.” I sniffled, tears surfacing in my eyes. How could Edward regret it? He hated me more than he could say. I had tried countless times to explain the misunderstanding between us, but Edward would always interrupt me coldly, “You killed Dad and put Mom in a vegetative state. What reason do you have to tell me that you’re right?” Every time I looked at Edward’s disgusted and distrustful eyes, I could only swallow the truth of the matter. I had wanted to wait for Edward’s birthday this year to have a good chat with him. But I didn’t get the chance after all. In the autopsy room, Edward held the scalpel tightly and bowed his head for a moment of silence. He calmly used the scalpel to cut through the chest cavity of the corpse, and the pungent smell instantly rushed into his nostrils. But Edward remained calm but froze at the sight of the corpse’s left arm. Liam came over curiously and said, “Did the killer carve this?” Edward’s rubber-gloved hand fumbled with the gray tattoo on the puffy arm. “No. It looks like it’s been tattooed for a long time.” He sighed, a little compassionately, “The victim would be close to the family. The tattoo would have been all four of their family.” My eyes were so sore and swollen that tears flowed out as if I was trying to get all my aggression out. After my dad, David Blair, died, my mom, Nicole Blair, went into a coma. From that day on, I had no home. I tattooed a picture of us together on my arm, expecting Edward to be touched. But he just glanced at me coldly. “What did you tattoo? It’s disgusting. Get out of here.” Edward regarded me as an enemy, seeing only Emma as his sister. But the car accident at the time was because of Emma. She had clamored for David to stop for a cake and then went to grab David’s steering wheel. Immediately afterward, our car collided with an oncoming van. I woke up with multiple fractures and couldn’t move. But Edward was in the next ward with Emma, who had a mild concussion. He didn’t come to see me even until I was discharged from the hospital. But after I died, Edward cast more eyes on my corpse than he had looked at me all these years. If Edward knew that Emma, the only good sister in his heart, had something to do with my death, would he shed a single tear for me?

Edward’s cell phone rang. Liam looked at it and said gently, “Edward, it’s your sister.” But he said impatiently, “Don’t you know I’m busy? Tell Madison not to bother me.” Liam said, “Edward, it’s not Madison.” Edward froze for a moment as if puzzled that I hadn’t contacted him in so many days. But soon, a warm smile filled his eyes. He hastily removed his gloves and softly said, “Emma, what’s wrong? I’m not busy. Go ahead.” I laughed mockingly. Edward’s attitude towards me and Emma had always been worlds apart. I should have gotten used to it long ago. Emma’s pitiful voice rang out. “Edward, I accidentally broke Madison’s trophy in the living room when I was cleaning the house. I’m afraid she’ll be angry.” I widened my eyes, which were bloodshot from anger. That trophy was one I had gotten from a competition when I was a kid. Edward had set it out in the living room with pride on his face, then cleaned it to perfection. “Madison is just the best. I want everyone to know how good Madison is.” But now, Edward was only concerned with comforting Emma, who pretended to be frightened. “Emma, don’t be afraid. If Madison gets mad at you, I’ll keep her out of the house for the rest of her life.” What he didn’t realize was that I would never be able to come home again. Maybe when he learned of my death, Edward would even be glad to finally not have to see me again. Edward handed the autopsy records to Frank, who had returned with the team. He said, “Frank, I’m going home to eat and change before I come back. I haven’t been with my sister in a couple of days.” Frank chuckled, “Didn’t you say you didn’t care about your sister before? You should be nice to Madison from now on. It hasn’t been easy for her all these years.” Edward’s face instantly gloomed, a hint of dislike in his eyes. “I don’t have a sister like Madison. She doesn’t deserve my kindness after what she’s done to the family. Emma is well-behaved and understanding, but Madison is a heartless asshole.” Frank said somewhat meaningfully, “I’m an old friend of David and Nicole’s and kind of watched you and Madison grow up. You should hear Madison’s feelings.” Edward put on his jacket and said somewhat helplessly, “Frank, you don’t have to talk me into this. On my dad’s death anniversary, Madison never went to pay her respects to him. Sometimes, I wonder if her heart is black.” Edward had never doubted Emma’s lies. Back then, when we were in that car accident, Emma was less injured than me. Waking up first, she told Edward that I had been arguing with David and Nicole, causing them to be distracted before the tragedy. Edward then considered me to be a cold-blooded scourge. David and Nicole had sponsored Emma. Later, her house caught fire, and she was the only one who survived. David and Nicole adopted Emma because they felt sorry for her as an orphan. But then, I realized that she seemed to be trying to replace me. Emma must be very pleased with herself now. After all, at her instigation, Edward regarded me as his enemy. I could only cry and tell Nicole, who was in a coma, my grievances when I visited her. I was more of a helpless orphan than Emma. Edward returned home and didn’t pick up the pieces of the trophy on the floor. Instead, he rubbed Emma’s hair with concern. “You’re not hurt, are you? I’ll clean up the floor later.” I looked at the broken trophy on the floor, and it was as if my heart had broken a big hole in it as well. Edward, who had once seen me as proud, now only thought I was trash. Emma’s long eyelashes blocked out the laughter in her eyes. “Edward, is Madison still mad at me? She hasn’t been home in days.” Edward glanced at her gauze-wrapped left hand with some distress. “I’ll make Madison apologize to you. She’s just a sinful person with an evil heart.” It was true that I had caused the injury on Emma’s hand. But it was from my struggles when she was killing me. I wished so much for Edward to discover Emma’s true colors. Watching the way they cared for each other, I only felt my heart hurt like a blazing fire was burning it. Until I died, Edward remained a believer in Emma. However, it didn’t matter, and I would never come home and bother them anymore.   Edward’s cell phone rang, and his warm and fuzzy time with Emma was forced to end. Frank’s voice rang out. “We found new evidence. Edward, come back and do another autopsy.” Edward rushed back to the station and let out a sigh as he looked at the bag of facial features that had been cut off on the autopsy table. He said, “What kind of hate makes a killer actually go this far?” Edward put on gloves and pieced together the facial features but paused when he picked up my right ear because there was a crescent-shaped scar on that earlobe. It was a wound from an accidental rollover when Edward was riding me on his bike when I was a kid. At that time, Edward looked at the blood on my ear and comforted me while crying, saying, “Madison, don’t be afraid. I will protect you in the future.” Edward blinked and seemed to remember something. I felt nervous. Did Edward recognize me? But the next second, he continued his work with a calm face. Edward and I missed each other once again. Frank’s voice was a little restless. “Edward, I think Madison has such a scar on her ear as well.” Liam chimed in, “Yes. Edward, every time you have a stomach problem, Madison brings you a nutritious meal she made. This time, you’ve been having a hard time for a few days, and I haven’t seen Madison come yet.” Edward’s diet was irregular, so he had terrible stomach aches every time. I went to a traditional physician specifically to get a prescription for medicinal diets. Afraid that Edward would not want to eat what I made, I had to ask Frank or Liam to pass it on. Everyone else could see my love for Edward, but only Edward thought I was a cold-blooded person. Edward sneered, mockery in his eyes, “Madison won’t die if anyone dies. In her mind, her life is more important than anyone else.” Frank rubbed his temples and said somewhat helplessly, “Well, I’ve got orders to get a criminal profiler to assist with this case. “Contact Madison in a few minutes and tell her to come to the station this afternoon. Don’t say you’re not working with her. That’s an order.” Edward gently pressed his lips together and reluctantly agreed. But when he dialed my number, all he heard was an electronic tone. He said, “She’s still having a tantrum at this hour. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her.” With that, Edward sent me the message: [Madison, you don’t have to come home if you don’t answer the phone. People with evil hearts don’t deserve to work with me in the first place.] I rubbed my eyes and wiped my tears hard. Edward, I wanted so much to stand by your side openly and solve cases with you. However, I could no longer do that. At that moment, Edward’s cell phone rang. He answered the phone and sternly scolded, “Madison, come to the station right now. I’m too busy to play the disappearance game with you.” The person on the other end of the line froze for a moment and said awkwardly, “Mr. Blair, your mother’s medical bills for this month have not been paid. We can’t reach Ms. Blair.” Edward opened his mouth, a flash of confusion in his eyes. Then, he said, “Okay, I’ll pay the bill later.” I was the one who went to the hospital every month to pay the bills all the years Nicole was hospitalized for her coma and recuperation. Edward was busy at work, and I made time every week to talk to Nicole and give Nicole a massage. But Emma never visited Nicole once. On the contrary, she would sarcastically say when I went to visit Nicole, “Your mom is fortunate. Why don’t you just pull out her oxygen tube? How pointless to be a vegetable like that!” She had caused Nicole to be like this, and she had the nerve to say such things. I pushed Emma, but Edward bumped into it. He slammed the vase on the table hard on me and scolded, “Madison, are you crazy? How could you do this to Emma? You’re so mean.” Emma deserved a lot of the credit for my relationship with Edward being so bad. Edward hung up the phone and rubbed his temples in annoyance. He complained to Liam, “What’s wrong with Madison? She doesn’t even pay my mom’s hospital bill. What is she fooling around with every day?” Liam gulped and advised, “Edward, Madison isn’t the type of person who would purposely pretend to be missing to fool you. I’m a little worried about her safety.” Edward waved his hand and picked up his work case. “You don’t have to speak for her. Frank and I will go to the crime scene and take another look. Contact me if anything happens.” The men from the trace inspection section were rummaging carefully through the dirt at the crime scene. Suddenly, someone said, “Frank, there’s a new lead here.” Edward was about to go up and check it out, but his phone rang. Liam breathed rapidly and sounded panicked. “Edward, the DNA test results are in. Why don’t you come back to the station?” Edward said helplessly, “I have a new lead over here. Just send the test report to Frank.” Liam held his breath for a moment and slowed his voice. “Edward, the results from the database comparison show that the victim is your sister, Madison.” Edward’s cell phone instantly dropped to the floor.

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After the miscarriage, I lay in the ICU for an entire month. Meanwhile, my husband was off traveling around with his so-called “true love.” It wasn’t until he decided to divorce me that he remembered I existed. He called my mom, demanding to know how long I was going to “keep making trouble”. My mother looked at me, her daughter teetering on the edge of death, and said bitterly, “She won’t bother you anymore. Are you happy now?” ***** I was admitted to the ICU. That same day, the day I lost the baby, I was dying—massive blood loss, organ damage. And the cruelest part? The one who caused all of this was none other than my husband, Dominick Vanderbilt. The day everything went wrong for me was his birthday. I had prepared a table full of his favorite dishes, baked a cake from scratch, and decorated the house to look incredibly romantic. On top of all the designer gifts, I had something special and priceless for Dominick—a gift I’d been waiting years to give. I was pregnant. After five years of trying, we finally had this hard-won miracle. I thought this baby would be a miracle for us—a gift to celebrate his birthday and a lifeline to save our crumbling marriage. That was why I chose his birthday to share the news. I was so sure it would change everything. But when he came home from work, he just quickly changed his clothes and said Madison Blair had been admitted to the hospital and needed someone by her side. Then, without a second thought, he turned to leave again. I grabbed his arm, unable to believe what I was hearing. “Dominick, I worked so hard on this… And I… I have something really important to tell you.” Dominick shook me off and said coldly, “Peyton, Maddy’s in the hospital alone. I have to go.” The warmth drained from my face instantly. Ever since Madison came back into his life, it was like she’d stolen his soul. Madison, the one who got away, his so-called first love, had always held a unique and irreplaceable place in Dominick’s heart. Realizing this, I slowly let my hand drop and asked bitterly, “Dominick, is Madison really that important to you? Is she more important than me?” Dominick shot me an impatient look. “Can you not start with your nonsense right now? Madison saved my life back then. She’s in trouble now; what’s wrong with me helping her out?” He didn’t even wait for me to argue. Instead, he cut me off before I could speak, saying, “Madison and I are clean—nothing has ever happened between us. If you keep doubting me like this, there’s no way we can go on living together.” His gaze turned cold like he was staring at an enemy rather than his wife. Anger boiled inside me, and I reached out to grab Dominick, desperate to stop him. But he shoved me away without hesitation. The door slammed as he walked out, never once looking back. I stumbled and lost my balance, hitting the corner of the table hard before collapsing to the floor. Pain shot through me in waves. I could feel my body trembling uncontrollably before everything went dark. When I woke up again, I was standing—of all places—at the edge of my own hospital bed. I looked down at myself, pale and covered in tubes. My face was expressionless, hollow. It hit me then. When a person hovers between life and death, their unrelenting obsessions can turn into a spirit, forcing them to become a silent spectator of the world they can’t quite leave behind. I wanted to cry but couldn’t. Seeing my mother outside the ward, her hair snow-white after just one night, ripped my heart to shreds. And when I realized Dominick was the one responsible for all of this, that burning sense of injustice pulled me like a magnet—I found myself standing right by his side. Dominick was in another hospital at the time. He sat by Madison’s bedside, his hand wrapped gently around hers, his expression full of worry. “Don’t worry. Just focus on getting better. I’ll take care of everything else.” Madison gave him a weak smile and, using what little strength she had, rested her head on his shoulder. “Dom, I’m so lucky to have you. Without you, I really don’t know what I’d do…” Feeling her dependence, he smiled in satisfaction as though this was exactly where he belonged. Madison nestled closer to him and pouted softly, “But Dom, if you’re always here with me, won’t Peyton get upset?” When Dominick heard my name, his face twisted into a scowl, his voice dripping with disdain. “Who cares? She’s always picking fights for no reason, accusing me of being unfaithful to her and looking for any excuse to argue. Tell me, who could stand living like that? If it comes to it, I’ll just divorce her and be done with it!”

Dominick stayed with Madison until her IV drip was finished and then took her home. I could see that Madison didn’t want him to leave, and honestly, he didn’t seem like he wanted to go either. Madison clung to his arm, looking heartbreakingly fragile. “Dom, I’ve been feeling really down lately. Once I feel better in a couple of days, can you take me out somewhere?” Dominick’s face softened with obvious affection. “Of course I can.” Madison’s father had recently declared bankruptcy due to poor business decisions. She’d gone from the privileged heiress of a wealthy family to someone struggling to get by. Dominick understood her struggles and heartbreak. To make matters worse, her emotional turmoil was taking a toll on her health—she seemed to be in pain all the time, one place hurting today, another tomorrow. It was as if her body couldn’t bear the burden. Dominick only wanted to take care of her. “Maddy, just tell me where you want to go, and I’ll make it happen. You know I have the means to take care of you now.” Madison’s expression lit up with joy. “Thanks, Dom. You have no idea how much that means to me.” I stood there, right in front of them, listening to every word, but all I could do was give a bitter smile. Dominick’s job kept him swamped. When we got married, we didn’t even take a honeymoon. In the five years we’d been together, he never once suggested taking me on a trip. He hardly even had the time to go shopping with me—those moments were rare, painfully so. I understood how hard he worked. So, I never complained and never asked for more. I poured all my energy into being a good wife, taking care of him in every way I could. But what did I get in return? His cold indifference. His absence. I’d tried, I really had, to reignite something between us. I wore makeup, bought beautiful dresses—tried to look the way I thought Dominick might notice. But it was all pointless. Because the moment Madison entered the picture, I stopped existing in his eyes. Every time he abandoned me, abandoned our family, to be with her, I’d pick a fight. I couldn’t help it. And every time, he’d either freeze me out or turn it around, calling me childish and unreasonable. When I was alive, I couldn’t fight him on this. And now, as I hover so close to death, I still can’t. Dominick spent the night at Madison’s place. They didn’t share a bed, but the subtle tension between them had already deepened. The next day, I followed Dominick out. I watched as a man who had always prioritized work spent the entire day on the phone during office hours, meticulously arranging every detail of an extravagant trip. From booking first-class flights to reserving five-star hotels, he handled everything personally, leaving nothing to chance. Once he was done, he happily prepared for the upcoming trip with Madison. It was as if my existence meant nothing to him. He didn’t know my condition—didn’t care to know—and acted as though he’d forgotten I was his wife altogether. While my mother sat by my bedside, crying every night for me, the man I had loved my whole life was off enjoying himself with another woman. I watched as they visited the most popular tourist cities, sampled exotic foods, and Dominick took countless beautiful photos of Madison. Dominick treated her with the utmost respect. He insisted on booking two separate rooms every night and tiptoed around her, careful not to cross any lines. His restraint made it clear—he treasured her. Seeing the constant glow of happiness on Madison’s face, I felt nothing. There wasn’t even a hint of jealousy left in me. I didn’t believe in them. Even if they did end up together, I knew they wouldn’t last. Men like Dominick, who lose interest the moment they get what they want, were incapable of holding onto happiness. I quietly trailed them for a month. When the trip finally ended, Dominick returned home, exhausted and ready to rest. But when he opened the front door, he was greeted by the rotting stench of spoiled leftovers on the dining table and a dark, dried pool of blood on the floor. The house was a wreck. The air reeked of something sour and putrid. Dominick, who had always been a clean freak, turned pale with disgust at the sight. Without a second thought, he pulled out his phone and called me. He didn’t notice my phone sitting dead on the sofa, shut off because the battery had run out days ago. One call. No answer. Two calls. Still nothing. Three calls. Silence. On the fourth call, when it went straight to voicemail, Dominick finally lost his patience. He exploded. “Peyton Reeves! If you want a divorce, just say it. There’s no need for this stupid silent treatment. Look at this place. It’s disgusting! If you have the guts, come back here right now. We’ll go file for divorce immediately!”

Response to Dominick came in the form of cold, lifeless beeps over the line. After a few seconds of stunned silence, he angrily stuffed his phone back into his pocket and stormed out the door again. He went back to Madison’s place. Even though he had been traveling with his beloved for a month, the packed itinerary was beginning to wear on Dominick. When he mentioned wanting to eat, Madison immediately chimed in, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, “I’ll order takeout then. What do you feel like eating, Dom?” For a split second, an almost imperceptible look of distaste flickered across Dominick’s face. Days of eating at restaurants and street stalls had taken their toll—his stomach had been protesting for a while now. Not that Madison would ever notice. But he smoothed out his expression quickly, giving her a doting smile. “Anything’s fine. Just order whatever you like.” I knew what Dominick truly wanted right now—a homemade meal. A refreshing salad and braised beef—the kind that wasn’t overly greasy or rich. Dominick had a sensitive stomach and a strict palate—he liked his food light, with plenty of restrictions. I was the only one who could remember every little detail about what he liked and didn’t like. No scallions, ginger, or garlic. He avoided peanut oil like the plague. He refused organ meats and hated fish with too many bones. I knew which dishes needed a delicate touch and which ones needed to be rich and flavorful. Every detail about his diet, I had it down to a science. Back then, whenever Dominick had been out for days of social engagements, he would always come home with an upset stomach, vomiting, and running to the bathroom for no apparent reason. During those times, all it took was the simplest homemade meal from me to calm his stomach—and his mood—effortlessly. But he never noticed what I did for him—or how much thought I put into it. In his mind, since he was the one making money, since he was the one “providing” for this household, everything I did was just expected. Of course, Madison was different. In Dominick’s eyes, she was a pampered heiress, her hands too precious to ever hold a kitchen knife. The fact that she didn’t cook? Completely normal. Understandable, even. After all, her hands were more valuable than diamonds. When the delivery arrived, I watched him poking around with a fork in the takeout box, hesitating and picking at the food without really eating. Madison asked innocently, “Do you not like this stuff, Dom?” Dominick smiled faintly and shook his head, though a flicker of disappointment still crossed his face. Madison, sharp-eyed, noticed something was off and pressed again. “Dom, it feels like you’re not into these trendy dishes at all. What do you actually like? I’ll order more of that next time.” He then described his preferences as if they were nothing, saying, “I’m not picky. A plain Caesar salad, light braised beef—those are good enough for me.” His tone was casual, but there was something hard to define in his expression. It lingered in his eyes for just a second before disappearing. I wanted so badly to tell Dominick that even a simple Caesar salad and braised beef weren’t as easy to make as he thought. But then again, it didn’t really matter anymore. Whether he knew or not wouldn’t change the fact that I’d already given up on him. He barely ate anything from that meal. Afterward, he cleaned up the takeout containers half-heartedly and took the trash downstairs. I watched as he tossed the bag into the bin and then pulled out his phone again. I watched as Dominick tried calling my phone again. Three times in a row. Each time, the automated voice told him the phone was turned off. Growing frustrated, he became visibly agitated, pacing back and forth while scrolling through his contacts over and over. But he didn’t know a thing about my social circle, nor did he recognize any of my friends. After I quit my job, I’d lost touch with most of my former colleagues, too. When his search turned up nothing, Dominick finally dialed my mom. The moment someone picked up, his frustration boiled over. He demanded furiously, “How long is your daughter planning to keep this up? Tell Peyton this nonsense has to stop. If she keeps acting like this, I’ll divorce her!”   My mom never knew that, in this marriage, I was the one who constantly tolerated Dominick and compromised for him. To stop her from worrying, every time she asked, I always told her over and over, “Mom, don’t worry, I’m really happy. Dominick loves me so much. He’d never let me suffer. Besides, I wouldn’t let myself be mistreated either.” She always believed me without hesitation. But now, faced with this brutal reality, my mom was heartbroken. “Are you even human, Dominick? Your wife’s been lying in the ICU for a month, and not only do you ignore her, but you’re calling this nonsense?” It was the first time I’d ever heard my mother’s voice so sharp and loud. In my memory, my mom had always been gentle, a little timid even. But now, this woman—my mother—was standing up against the world for me, her voice fierce and cutting. “Dominick, you heartless bastard! You don’t deserve my daughter!” Dominick looked stunned, caught off guard by the verbal assault. But he quickly snapped back, his anger flaring, “Stop spouting this nonsense, you old hag! How the hell could Peyton be in the ICU for a month? Isn’t it enough for her to stir up trouble on her own? Now she’s dragging you into it, too? This is ridiculous!” For a second, I caught a flicker of disbelief on his face. But beneath that was contempt, doubt, and sheer annoyance. It was at this moment I finally realized just how cruel and cold a man could be. My mom, enraged by Dominick’s heartless words, screamed back at him, her voice cracking, “Dominick, even if my daughter dies and becomes a ghost, she won’t forgive you. And not just her—if I die, I’ll come back as a vengeful spirit and haunt you too!” Dominick’s hand clenched his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white, the veins in his neck bulging. “Shut up! Peyton can’t be dead! Tell her to get out here and face me. If she’s gonna die, she better divorce me first.”

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During the birthday celebration of my parents’ fake daughter, I accidentally ruined her cake. My parents and brother, without a moment’s hesitation, locked me away in the basement. “You’ve ruined the party with your jealousy,” they spat. “Stay here and think about what you’ve done!” The perfect family of four jetted off to Crystal Island to throw another birthday party for their precious fake daughter, leaving me alone in the cold, dark basement. But fate had an even crueler twist in store. A gas leak had been slowly filling the house, and I remained trapped below. When they remotely switched on the lights, the entire mansion erupted into a devastating explosion. In an instant, I was gone. Even in death, my spirit lingered, drifting weightlessly to their location. There they were, on a pristine beach, surrounding their beloved fake daughter. The luxurious three-tiered cake was wheeled out, and my parents and brother gathered around the imposter, their faces glowing with affection as they watched her make her birthday wish. The imposter put on a show of concern, asking about my well-being with false sincerity. “You’re just too kind-hearted, Clair,” they told her. “Someone like that needs to be taught a lesson by being locked up at home. That’ll make her think twice before trying to steal from you again.” Those words shattered any remaining hope I had in them. Yet, when they returned home to find the mansion reduced to rubble, my parents and brother completely lost their minds. ***** “Dad, Mom, Tommy, thank you for celebrating my birthday with me.” Clair Henderson’s eyes sparkled with joy as she gazed at her parents, Oscar and Nicole Henderson, and her brother, Thomas Henderson, aboard the luxury cruise ship. “This will truly be a day I’ll never forget.” She was a vision in her million-dollar Chanel couture gown, crowned with a diamond tiara so brilliant it could blind. Like a princess from a fairy tale, she basked in the spotlight of their undivided attention. My parents and brother gazed at her with unbridled adoration. No one could see me standing nearby, silently watching them, because I was already dead, and they couldn’t see my soul. But what difference would it make if they could? In this family, I had always been invisible anyway. “Clair is truly the crown jewel of the Henderson family. This birthday party must have cost millions of dollars at least,” one of the bystanders whispered. “And that’s not all—I saw that pink diamond necklace she’s wearing at an auction. It was worth eight million dollars.” “Clair is so lucky to have such a family who cherishes her so much.” Hearing the guests’ admiring comments aboard the yacht, I revealed a bitter smile. Yes, how lucky she was indeed. I was the true Ms. Henderson, yet she was nothing but an imposter who stole my place in the family. Yet, my own flesh and blood, my family, only had eyes for her. They had even forgotten that Clair and I shared the same birthday. But while she had a party, I didn’t even get a single present. Not even a slice of birthday cake was saved for me. Then Clair, surrounded by their adoration, suddenly brought up my name. “Oh, yes, is it really okay to leave Izzy alone at home? Even though she ruined my birthday party, I’m sure she didn’t mean to. Dad, Mom, Tommy, please don’t be angry at her because of me.” Her tone was sincere, her face etched with concern as if she genuinely cared about my well-being. Thomas let out a cold snort. “That bitch will be fine! Clair, you’re just too kind-hearted. That’s why she was able to bully you!” My parents nodded in agreement. “That’s right, Clair. Don’t worry about her. She’s old enough to know better, but she has no manners at all. We’re just teaching her a little lesson,” my father Oscar sneered. “That’s what she gets for being so jealous and ruining your birthday party,” my mother Nicole said. “She’ll think twice before trying to steal from you again!” Their words sent an icy chill down my spine. They called it a “lesson”. Their idea of a lesson was locking me alone in a dark basement after sending all the servants away. I was left alone in that massive mansion, trapped in a basement with no food or water. They called this just a lesson?

Clair’s birthday party was supposed to be held at our mansion. When they wheeled out her custom five-tier cake, I suddenly felt hands shoving me from behind. Before I could catch myself, I crashed straight into the cake. Cake frosting and fruit covered my face and clothes. I would never forget the mockery in the guests’ expressions, nor the accusations hurled at me by my parents and Thomas. They claimed I was jealous of Clair, that I deliberately ruined her birthday celebration. My protests fell on deaf ears—not a single person was willing to believe me. “No wonder the headmaster said you had behavioral issues, Isabella. You’re a complete waste of space.” Thomas frowned. “Only Clair and I were standing behind you. What? Are you going to accuse us of pushing you?” The way Thomas looked at me then—like I was something filthy he’d found on the bottom of his shoe. He yanked me violently, sending me crashing to the floor. My face contorted in pain as my knees hit the ground. My already pathetic state now looked even more pitiful. The stares of onlookers cut into me like knives, but the deepest wounds came from my own family. My parents cast one disappointed look at me before ordering the servants to lock me in the basement. Then they whisked away their “aggrieved” Clair to Crystal Island, chartering a luxury cruise ship to throw their precious princess a new birthday celebration. Meanwhile, I suffered alone in the basement. The truth was the person, who had switched Clair and me, had abandoned me at an orphanage where I grew up. No one knew that beneath the headmaster’s kind facade lay a woman who took pleasure in tormenting me behind closed doors. Whenever I made a mistake, she would lock me in a tiny dark room. That pitch-black chamber had no light whatsoever, making it impossible to tell how much time had passed. If even adults would break down in such conditions, how could we children possibly cope? I had almost managed to bury those painful memories. But the people who should have been closest to me forced me to remember everything. Terror ripped through me as I screamed in desperation, clawing at the basement door until my fingernails left bloody trails across its surface. My pleas went unanswered. That was when the crushing realization hit me—the house was empty. They had abandoned me. I pulled out my phone with trembling hands, calling my parents and Thomas countless times, even sending desperate messages begging them to release me. But they had blocked my number, and my messages disappeared into a void, never to be answered. They were determined to punish me. Their hearts hardened against any plea. Just as I was on the brink of breaking down, a distinct smell hit me—like rotten eggs permeating the air. The realization struck immediately—gas was leaking throughout the house. With the doors firmly locked, there was no escape. I could only huddle in the corner, pressing clothing against my nose and mouth in a desperate attempt to breathe. Then, at the worst possible moment, the mansion’s lights flickered on. In the next instant, the entire house was obliterated, reduced to nothing but rubble on the ground. I couldn’t escape the blast. The explosion threw my body several feet, tearing it apart so completely that not even an intact corpse remained. Yet my family remained completely unaware. Thomas pulled out his phone and dialed my number impatiently. But my old flip phone had been destroyed in the blast, and his call went unanswered. This had never happened before. I had set unique ringtones for each family member and always answered their calls instantly. This was the first time I had ever failed to respond. Thomas furrowed his brow slightly, showing signs of unease. Noticing this, Clair quickly moved closer to him, her face filled with concern. “Is Izzy angry?” she asked softly. At her words, Thomas’ unease immediately vanished. “She’s the one who did wrong. What right does she have to be angry? “If you ask me, she should be begging for your forgiveness! This is your 18th birthday celebration, for heaven’s sake!” A flicker of sadness crossed Clair’s face, but she still managed a smile. “It’s okay, Tommy. You’ve all made it up to me already. I’m sure Izzy didn’t mean any harm.” Her words, so mature and understanding, only made Oscar, Nicole, and Thomas feel even more protective of her. Of course, their disgust towards me only grew stronger. I overheard Nicole muttering under her breath, “Why couldn’t Clair be my biological daughter instead?” “Isabella is just so…” She clicked her tongue in disapproval. Perhaps because I had already lost all faith in them, these words no longer hurt me like they used to. There was just one thing I couldn’t understand. If they never loved me, why did they go through all the trouble of bringing me home in the first place?

My confusion was soon answered. After Clair’s birthday celebration, everyone retired to their rooms. With nowhere else to go, I followed my parents. Oscar sank into the sofa, wearily massaging his temples. Nicole pulled out various medications from her suitcase and laid them out in front of him. “Oscar, you need to get admitted to the hospital soon,” she urged. “The hospital just sent word that Isabella’s compatibility results are back—she’s a match. Now that we have a kidney donor, you can finally get the surgery.” Oscar let out a heavy sigh. “But what if Isabella refuses to donate? She’s always been selfish.” Nicole let out a cold snort, slamming her glass down on the table. “What right does she have to refuse? It’s just one kidney! After the donation, we’d take care of her for the rest of her life. Isn’t that enough? “If it weren’t for your condition, I wouldn’t even want to see such an ill-mannered girl in our house! Ever since she came back, look at all the grief she’s caused Clair!” The mention of me set off a torrent of complaints from Nicole. Oscar’s expression darkened. “That’s enough,” he said. “She is still our biological daughter, after all. If it hadn’t been for Clair’s birth mother, she wouldn’t have ended up in that orphanage. “Though she might not have suffered there, she still had a hard time.” Nicole rolled her eyes. “What’s there to feel sorry about? Didn’t you hear what the headmaster said? She treated Isabella like her own daughter, and Isabella nearly killed her in return! “Such a cold-hearted woman deserves whatever suffering comes her way. Besides, how can we blame Clair for what her mother did?” Oscar seemed to agree with Nicole’s reasoning. He took his medicine from the table before speaking again, “Alright, I’m not blaming Clair. If anyone’s to blame, it’s that girl’s fate. “Like you said, dear, after she donates her kidney, we’ll buy her a house and support her for life. That should be enough.” Nicole finally seemed satisfied. “That’s more like it. Clair is the only daughter in my heart. You should buy a house far away from here. I don’t want to keep seeing her. Who knows? She might try to harm me next.” After chatting for a while longer, they turned off the lights and went to bed. No one saw me standing there, frozen in place for over half an hour. So that was how it was. They only brought me back because they needed my kidney. Their coldness towards me was because they believed the lies of that cruel headmaster who always bullied me. So, they never loved me at all. I suddenly found myself laughing at the absurdity of it all, doubling over and clutching my stomach. But as I laughed, tears began streaming down my face, beyond my control. Why did it have to be this way? I truly believed I was finally about to be loved. But it was all just an elaborate deception. After calming myself, I walked to my parents’ bedside and gazed at their sleeping faces. They looked just like the parents I’d imagined as a child. Oscar was tall and handsome, while Nicole was beautiful and gentle. But now, they were monsters to me. They weren’t my mom and dad but Clair’s. They would never protect me, only Clair. From beginning to end, they had never once believed in me. As bitterness spread through my heart, I found my hand reaching out, fingers brushing against Nicole’s delicate neck. But in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. There was a saying that rang true. While parents might have many children, a child only had one set of parents. No one ever taught me how to stop loving my parents when they didn’t love me back. I curled up in the corner, trying to find some comfort in myself. But suddenly, the silence of the night was shattered by Oscar’s ringtone. He answered the phone in a drowsy haze. Then, I heard the voice on the other end. “Is this Mr. Henderson? There’s been an explosion at your home due to a gas leak. We’ve found a female body at the scene. Would you be able to come back and assist with our investigation?”

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When my acceptance letter arrived, I was bedridden with a sudden high fever. My sister, Lainey Holmes, was taken away on her way to collect it, and no one knew if she was alive or dead. My parents, consumed by their grief and anger, turned on me. They tore up my acceptance letter and forced me to abandon my studies to work in a factory. Eventually, I was taken away, too. After a narrow escape, I sought refuge in an abandoned factory and sent my parents a desperate message for help. My father called in a voice filled with rage. “Sophie Holmes, are you out of your mind? You’re joking about that on the anniversary of Lainey’s death? “Do you have any idea how much your mother and I wish it was you who died that year?” Even in my final moments, their hateful words rang in my ear. I was tortured to death, and my body was discarded in a gutter for three days. Even my father, a seasoned forensic expert, couldn’t recognize me. When Lainey finally returned with her boyfriend—the one she had once eloped with—my father had just barely restored my appearance using forensic techniques. They knelt before my decaying corpse, wailing until they fainted. ***** It had been pouring for three days; the entire city felt drenched, a suffocating fog blanketing everything. When my bloated body finally floated out of the gutter, I terrified many onlookers. An eight-year-old boy was frightened and cried, clinging to his mother as she soothed him softly. As I watched them, tears filled my eyes. I hadn’t felt my mother’s embrace in years. Since Lainey went missing six years ago, my parents had only aimed their hatred at me. They hadn’t even given me a smile, let alone a hug. Soon, a cordon surrounded the scene, and I stood in the crowd, silently watching my rotting body. A police car pulled up, and my eyes lit up when the door swung open. My father’s colleague, Jace, hurried over to brief him. “Calvin, it looks like the body has been in the water for three days. With the rainstorm, any evidence at the scene may have been washed away. You’ll need to put extra effort into examining the body. “The DNA from the deceased has been sent to the lab, and we’ll get the results as soon as possible.” When my father laid eyes on my body, he frowned, his eyes reddening. Clenching his fists, he ground out. “This is so cruel!” I glanced at my lifeless form. The sight was indeed horrific. My hands and feet had been severed, my face mutilated beyond recognition, and even my eyeballs had been gouged out. The terror I felt before my death lingered on my features. My mouth was agape because I had screamed and cried before my death, and my tongue was severed, adding to the gruesome scene. At one glance, my father shed tears. I wept silently behind him. He hadn’t cried for me in six long years. He crouched in front of my body, his trembling hands tracing the scars that marred my skin. In a broken voice, he murmured, “The features of the deceased are unrecognizable, but it appears to be a young woman around 25 years old. “She endured multiple beatings before she was killed. Damn it. What kind of monster could do this? She was so young. Her family must be shattered!” Tears streamed down my face as I listened. Dad, if you knew it was me before you, would your heart ache just a little? After all, I was the one you hated the most in this world. For countless nights, you had screamed at me to go to hell. Now, you finally had what you wanted.

My lifeless body was placed into body bags and transported to my father’s office. Before long, my limbs were located and sent to him without delay. Jace frowned as he stood before the autopsy table, pointing to my finger. “Calvin, take a look. This deceased has clenched fists, but the middle finger of her right hand is broken off. Could there have been jewelry that could help identify her?” “I think so,” my father replied, nodding in agreement. Jace hesitated, glancing at my father. “I remember Sophie wears a ring on the middle finger of her right hand…” My father lifted his gaze, a hint of annoyance in his eyes. “There are plenty of people who wear rings. Do you think it’s that simple to kill her?” Jace, clearly anxious, grabbed my father’s arm, still wearing his gloves. “Calvin, do you remember that serial killer?” My father shuddered at the mention. That case had haunted him for years. Six years ago, he was the city’s most renowned forensic expert, while my mother was the youngest head of the Criminal Investigation Department. Back then, Jace was one of my mother’s subordinates. They were consumed by the hunt for a killer who had claimed the lives of eight girls, working tirelessly for a month without returning home. The killer was eventually apprehended, but there wasn’t enough evidence to secure a conviction. In a last-ditch effort, my father isolated himself in the forensic lab for three days without sleep, finally discovering the key evidence needed to convict the murderer. But no one anticipated that the killer had a twin brother. The day the murderer was executed was also the day Lainey went missing. The surveillance footage showed a man in a black raincoat dragging Lainey away, and she hadn’t been seen since. It was widely suspected that the murderer’s brother had taken her, but no one had the courage to voice that grim possibility. A year later, my mother resigned, overwhelmed by grief, while my father remained with the police force. Now, bringing up the past made my father visibly uneasy. Jace observed him closely, hesitating before saying, “If it really is him, Sophie could be in serious danger…” My father interrupted him impatiently, “Enough. “I would love to see Sophie dead. I warned her to keep an eye on Lainey and not let her go out, but she still asked Lainey to help her with her acceptance letter! “It was pouring that day, and Lainey was so young. The terror on her face as she was dragged away shattered my heart!” I had heard this story countless times. My parents would call me periodically, lashing out, blaming me for being so cold-hearted to push my sister to her doom while I stayed safe at home. I had defended myself, insisting I wasn’t responsible. That day, I had been in a feverish coma and had no idea Lainey was leaving the house. But they never believed me. To them, I was a heartless monster, a liar. In the midst of their endless accusations and blame, I often wished it had been me who vanished that year. If only I hadn’t fallen ill that day. If only I could have held on and not succumbed to my fever. If only I could have been the one to disappear instead of her. At least then, I wouldn’t be the unforgivable sinner I had become, living a life filled with misery. Jace sighed, wanting to continue his persuasion. But my father had shifted his focus, inspecting the deceased’s teeth. He slightly furrowed his brow while examining my broken front tooth. Then, he impassively instructed his assistant, “The deceased is missing a front tooth. From the fracture, it appears to have been broken quite some time ago. Make sure to include this in the autopsy report and inform the police; it could be a crucial clue in identifying her.” I looked at my father, tears brimming in my eyes. He had likely forgotten that his daughter, the one he loathed the most, was also missing a front tooth—the one he had broken himself.

Lainey had been missing for six years. In my parents’ minds, she was already gone for good. They buried her clothes, bought her a headstone, and marked the anniversary of her disappearance as the day of her death. I was only allowed to go home on that day to visit her grave, to repent, and to apologize. Last year, I fainted on my way to the train station, and a passerby took me to the hospital, making me miss my train home. Three days later, I returned home. My furious father yanked my hair and dragged me to Lainey’s grave. He held my head and slammed it against the tombstone. I was knocked dizzy, but his anger didn’t fade. He slapped me repeatedly until the corners of my mouth split, and one of my front teeth was knocked out. But now, he seemed to have forgotten all that. Maybe he never cared at all. In his eyes, no matter the injury I sustained—even if I died—I deserved it. Tears streamed down my face. Dad, I was really dead. I wondered if this was the atonement you’d hoped for. My father was engrossed in examining the body when his phone rang. He impatiently took off his gloves and answered it. “Sophie hasn’t come back yet. She just doesn’t want to repent to Lainey!” my mother snapped. I managed a bitter smile. Did they really think I didn’t want to come back? No. I was dead, killed by a gangster. My father scoffed. “She’d be better off never coming back. It’d be best if she just died. I can’t stand the sight of her!” I listened to their insults, my heart breaking all over again. I had reached out for help that day, but they didn’t care. Maybe my death was a relief for them. In fact, even if I hadn’t been killed, my time was limited. A year ago, when I fainted, they diagnosed me with a brain tumor. I told my parents, but they dismissed me, thinking I was just seeking sympathy. “Sophie, if you want to die, go ahead. Don’t expect us to feel sorry for you.” I didn’t want to die. They were getting older and needed someone to care for them. But now, watching the disgust in their eyes as they spoke about me, I felt a strange sense of relief that I had died this way. They had always hoped I would vanish, and I believed they felt happy when they discovered I had died so tragically. After hanging up, my father turned his attention back to my body. His eyes started to redden as he took in the sight. He said, his voice trembling, “The deceased had knife wounds—eight stabs, and they all missed the vital organs. “The cause of death was excessive bleeding. The murderer is a true monster. He let a girl bleed to death. How agonizing that must have been!” I felt an even deeper bitterness. It was indeed painful. I had writhed in agony, but all I could do was cry helplessly. But my crying only seemed to annoy the murderer. He grinned as he gouged out my eyes. My father’s hands shook as he held the scalpel. He took a deep breath and instructed his assistants to prepare for a craniotomy. I held onto a sliver of hope. When he saw the tumor in my brain, would he think of me? Just then, the door to the forensic lab swung open. A young officer stood there, looking panic-stricken as he addressed my father. My father frowned, clearly annoyed. “What’s the rush? Young people these days are so reckless. “Can’t you see I’m busy? Make it quick!” Summoning the courage, the officer said, “Jace, Calvin, the DNA report of the deceased just came in. She… she is Calvin’s daughter!” At the same time, my mother’s eager and surprised voice cracked from my father’s phone. “Lainey is back. She’s still alive! “The neglect we showed Sophie over the years is enough to atone for her sins. Now that our family is finally reunited, let’s treat her right from now on.”

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