I am a blind young woman. Living alone, a man broke into my home one night to steal, but he also tried to assault me, slowly undoing my clothes, muttering about taking more than my body… he wanted my heart, too. Today is June 7th. It’s been exactly 1,095 days since I lost my sight. My name is Emily Shaw, and I’m twenty-one years old. But my life, my future—it all got destroyed three years ago. It was June 7th then, too, and I was on my way to the SATs, mumbling bits of the poems I’d reviewed that morning. That’s when I heard a young girl crying. Instinct told me that the man rushing off with her had to be trafficking her. People nearby ignored it all, but I couldn’t. I ran toward them. In a narrow alley, I fought to free the little girl from him. That’s where the man’s knife struck, stabbing into my eyes, blinding me for good. I was blinded by a sudden rush of blood. The pain was unbearable, yet I held that girl as tightly as I could. Later, her family dropped to their knees to thank me. The police awarded me a Community Bravery Award and $1,500. I was praised as a hero. But my life, my beautiful future, had ended there. At first, the family I saved would visit occasionally, bringing the little girl. But eventually, they stopped coming altogether. I remember the last time Maddie came. She giggled as she pressed a few coins into my hand and said, “You can go beg under the bridge someday, okay? My mom says if I don’t study hard or go blind like you, I’ll end up begging too!” My lips quivered, and I fought back my tears. Once, I was my mom’s precious girl, the light of her life. If I could do it all over again, I would never step in like that. I would rather be an indifferent stranger than give up the happiness of a lifetime. Since losing my sight, every day has felt like a year. I’ve had to depend on my mother, and she was the only family I had. A week ago, she passed away from illness, and though relatives came for the funeral, they soon left. Now, I am truly the loneliest person alive. It’s so empty that I don’t even know why I keep living. Since losing my sight, my other senses have only sharpened. My hearing has become so acute that I can hear the exact spot where a needle drops to the floor. I’ve memorized how many steps it is to the kitchen, the bathroom, the nearest fast-food place. I live carefully, counting my steps. But I keep on surviving because of one person. There’s someone I care for. His name is Daniel Hart, my high school boyfriend. Even after what happened, he didn’t break up with me. He would still come by and check on me, giving me a shred of comfort in my broken world. This afternoon, I was practicing my Braille dictionary in the living room when I heard a knock on the door. With my guide stick in hand, I started slowly toward the door, but the knocking became louder and more aggressive. “Hold on, hold on…,” I said quietly, but the person kept pounding on the door. “Hey, if you don’t open up, I’m leaving. I’m here to fix the pipes for free, and you’re just letting me wait. You think I’m—” The door swung open, and his rant cut off when he saw me. The draft chilled me, and I couldn’t help but shiver. I apologized, “Sorry, I’m blind. It took a bit to get over here.” He paused, mumbling after a moment, “Oh, that’s fine. You’re Ms. Shaw in 302, right? I’m Norman Brooks, the repairman they called in to check the pipes.” He reached out and touched my hand. Though reluctant, I shook it lightly. “Hello.” Norman was diligent and polite, finishing the repair, then even offering to clean up my bathroom for me. “Stay for tea?” I offered, politely. I heard him scratch his head and awkwardly decline. Just as he was leaving, I heard a key in the lock, and the door opened. “Emily, I brought you something good to eat!” I instantly recognized Daniel’s bright, comforting voice. My heart warmed, and I threw myself into his arms. “You’re finally here.” In my memory, Daniel still looked like he did at eighteen, his face warm and bright. Every time he came, I would trace my fingers over his face, his lips, his Adam’s apple. I was terrified of forgetting the face of the one I loved most. After all, he was all I had left in the world. We kissed, oblivious to Norman, who cleared his throat, reminding us he was still there. Blushing, I pulled away from Daniel. “Uh, Ms. Shaw, I’ll take off now. If your pipes act up again, just have maintenance call me. I’ll leave you two alone,” Norman said, sounding irritated. “Yes…Daniel, could you see him out?” I urged Daniel toward the door, but he stayed still, keeping me in his arms as if to prove a point. “Just a plumber,” he said quietly, “We paid him to do his job. No need to see him out.” I wanted to tell him that Norman had come voluntarily, without charging a thing, but I heard Norman already leaving. Daniel didn’t seem to care. I smelled the fresh bouquet of flowers he brought and heard him place them gently in a glass vase. “Emily, you have to keep living,” he said softly. “One day, I’ll marry you.” Daniel had gone off to Georgetown and was now prepping for grad school. I was happy for him; he was getting the life I never could. On our rare visits, Daniel would hold me as I drifted off to sleep. When he thought I was asleep, he would finally slip out. But this time, as he left, he took a call in the living room, and I heard everything. The familiar warmth of his voice had a different tone: “Hey, baby. I’m just here because she’s alone all the time, and the reporters still hang around every now and then. Don’t worry. I’ll get the last bit of her support check, cover my tuition, and after that, I’m out of here.” “A dumb, pathetic blind girl,” he said, chuckling. “I’m just using her. I’ve never loved her.” The shock flooded through me, bringing a searing pain, like a bolt from a clear sky. Daniel had felt disgust for me this whole time?

I had feared that Daniel might leave, but I never expected it would happen in such a cold, brutal way. I stopped reaching out to him, and true to his word, he never came back. Even if I knew he had cheated… what could I do? I couldn’t rage or stop him from seeking better choices. From then on, it felt as if the life had drained from me. I cried every day. Without sight, without family, and without love, only the dark and this empty building kept me company. One afternoon, I was in the shower, cleaning myself up as if for some final act. When I rinsed off the soap, I heard the sound of someone swallowing from somewhere in the room. My sharpened senses picked it up right away—a low, heavy sound, like a man’s breath. The darkness around me magnified my fear. “Who’s there? Who?” My voice wavered as I asked, tension tightening my chest. No answer came, only silence. Panicked, I fumbled for a robe, buttoning it with trembling fingers, and reached to lock the bathroom door. Just as I was about to lock it, I realized—it had been opened from the outside. The cold air filled my throat, squeezing it tight. My heart sank. Terrified, I slipped and fell, my robe catching on the handle, leaving me exposed on the cold floor. I heard the front door close from the inside. Someone was here. Two hands reached down and pulled me up, wrapping around my waist, his warm palm pressed against me. My teeth chattered, but the gentleness was an illusion. The next second, I felt the cold edge of a knife at my neck, a faint scent of blood in the air. He was injured. “Where’s the money?” he said in a gruff voice. From his voice and breath, I knew right away who it was—Norman Brooks, the plumber from earlier. My mind went into overdrive. He must have been trying to rob me, furious over some previous theft gone wrong, choosing me, the blind woman, as the easy target. “My mom has my savings…there’s no money here. Please, let me go,” I begged, though my mother had been gone for weeks. In reality, I had no savings left. I’d used up everything for Mom’s medical bills. Only a few emergency bills remained under my mattress. Norman scoffed, his sweat close to my ear. “Next time, then, little blind girl. If you tell anyone, you’ll be sorry.” I nodded, drenched in cold sweat. After that, he resumed his search, dragging me with him, looting my router, TV box, and an old vase, boxing up everything. Held by the neck, I couldn’t call out for help. The room was filled with the unbearable sound of water dripping from the kitchen sink. When he finally let me go, he brushed against me, making me shiver. His hands were rough and calloused from years of hard work. He paused and handed me my robe after a moment. As I dressed, I could feel his gaze on me. A blush rose to my cheeks, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “You’re…very beautiful,” he said suddenly, voice low. “I’ve never seen a woman’s body before. This is the first time.”

After he left, I took a moment to catch my breath, reaching out to check the lock on my door. It hadn’t been forced open. He had used a key. And the only spare key was with Daniel. Panic hit me as I screamed, blindly lashing out, knocking over the vase Daniel had placed so delicately in the living room. Glass shattered around me, and I stepped right onto a shard, but I didn’t feel the pain. Norman had stolen almost everything valuable from my home, leaving the place empty and mocking. Even my phone, my only way of reaching anyone, was gone. A voice in my head, cold and cutting, asked: Emily Shaw, what do you have left? Why are you still here? But another voice within me pushed back, fierce and defiant. No. I’m not going to let them break me. Not after everything. If I had to go down, I would take someone with me. I wiped away my tears and slowly made my way downstairs to the small convenience store to ask for help. The shop owner, Linda Carson, was there playing cards with some other women. Their laughter echoed through the summer air, completely ignoring me. Nervous, I held out five dollars and said quietly, “Please, I need help. There’s been a break-in at my place, and the man tried to assault me. Can you call the police?” The women went silent, and Linda Carson looked at me with mock sympathy before saying, “Oh, honey, who’d rob a place like yours? They’d be more likely to leave you some coins to survive on.” They burst into laughter, as if mocking my misery was a pastime. I clenched my fists, shame burning in my chest. It dawned on me how helpless I was—trapped, blind, with no one to turn to. Linda tossed a moldy loaf of bread at me, shouting, “Here, now take that and get lost. You’re in the way.” The stale bread struck my forehead, the pain blossoming. I reached up to hold my head, anger boiling over. “I might be blind, but I can see who you really are,” I snapped back. “I’m not some beggar you can insult as you please.” I was about to turn away when Linda shoved me back, dousing me in hot tea. “Here’s some sunshine for you, honey,” she sneered. The tea scalded my chest, searing through my skin, a painful reminder of how powerless I was. Tears stung my eyes as I thought of my mother, of Daniel, of everything that had led me here. Just then, a familiar deep voice cut through the crowd. “What the hell are you doing? She’s blind, for God’s sake. And you’re treating her like this?” It was Norman. My heart skipped a beat. Fear twisted inside me, knowing he was here. “You all better have some damn decency,” he barked, smashing Linda’s sign. She slammed down her shutters as the women scurried off, casting wary glances at him. Finally, we were alone, and I felt his presence near, his breathing still heavy from anger. “Ms. Shaw, are you okay?” His tone softened as he turned to me, a strange contrast to the fury moments before. “Yeah, yes…thank you.” My voice trembled. “What were you doing here anyway?” he asked, curiosity tinged with something else. I hesitated. I couldn’t tell him I was trying to report him for harassment and theft. “I…came for food,” I said softly. “Well, isn’t that convenient,” he chuckled. “I just stocked up on canned meat. Let’s go, I’ll walk you home.” When we returned to my apartment, he even swept up the glass shards on the floor. After he noticed the burn on my chest, he rummaged through my things until he found an ointment, carefully applying it to my skin. Sitting on the sofa, I felt strangely out of place in my own home, as if I were the guest, and he was the host. Fear and confusion tangled inside me, knowing how he’d helped me today but also remembering his threats. When it was time to take my medication, I swallowed it with water, hoping it would calm my nerves. I’d been on anti-anxiety meds since I lost my sight, a routine meant to keep me grounded. “Was it here where you got burned?” Norman asked, his fingers brushing my collarbone. “Yes, but…” I tried to stop him, but it was too late. He gave a sharp tug, pulling my strap down to examine the burn. His grip was firm, and a soft blush spread across my skin. “Don’t move. I’ve seen it all before,” he murmured, pressing the ointment into my skin, his fingers surprisingly gentle. My heart hammered, and I could hear the slight hitch in his breathing as he worked. “If anyone messes with you again, let me know,” he said softly. “I don’t have family. Got nothing to lose.” I moved to pull his hand away, and that’s when I noticed it—his leg. Or rather, the lack of it. His left leg was a prosthetic. I didn’t know what had happened to him, but it made me uneasy, a chill crawling up my spine. “Norman, I… I really don’t have any money. Please, don’t come back here again.” I forced the words out, my voice trembling. The air between us froze, his hand stilled, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, with a slow smile, he whispered, “No money? You’ve still got something else.” I tensed, unsure of what he meant. Before I could react, he pinned my arms over my head, pushing me down onto the sofa. His lips, cold and rough, found mine in a bruising kiss. Shock and terror pulsed through me, spreading like fire from my spine to my limbs. His kiss was brutal, forceful, more of an assault than an embrace, his breath heavy and primal. I thrashed, trying to break free, but his strength far outweighed mine. And as I felt his body’s shift, a deeper, more primitive fear took root inside me. Even blind, I knew what he intended to do.

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My arrogant roommate recently snagged herself a “trust fund guy” boyfriend and has made it her mission to make my life miserable. She even stole my scholarship, then rallied a bunch of people online to bash me. “Oh, look at the campus star,” she sneered, “Too proud to donate a dime for her roommate’s family even though her ‘scholarship boyfriend’ just gave a million!” I was speechless. The anonymous million-dollar donor was me. When she saw I didn’t react, she brought her boyfriend over to “put me in my place.” Wait, isn’t that… my family’s security guard? How did he end up driving my car to take girls on dates? 1、 Recently, my roommate Danielle Clementine has been dating a “trust fund guy,” and she flaunts it around the dorm nonstop. “Hey, check out this Tiffany bracelet he got me. Isn’t it gorgeous?” Danielle raised her wrist to catch the sunlight, making sure the bracelet sparkled just right. “Wow, that must’ve cost thousands! Your boyfriend’s so good to you!” “For real! Does he have any friends? Set us up!” The other girls gathered around her, laying on the compliments thick. They practically worshipped her, making Danielle beam like she’d just won an award. She even tossed around high-end cosmetics from her stash, and the others scrambled to grab whatever they could, fawning over her even more. I was off to the side, reading quietly, not joining the chorus. This caught Danielle’s attention, and she gave me a sour look. “Sophie, don’t you think this Tiffany bracelet is stunning? Way better than that cheap silver bangle you’re always wearing, right?” I glanced at her “Tiffany” bracelet and knew right away it was a knockoff. My “plain” silver bracelet? A limited-edition piece from Tiffany’s. But seeing Danielle so proud of her “luxury” item, I held back. “Yeah, it’s really pretty. My little silver bracelet is nothing special.” Danielle’s smile widened, clearly pleased, and she came over and snapped my book shut. “Sophie, you really need to invest in some decent jewelry. It’s embarrassing standing next to you.” I was at a loss for words. Everyone knew Danielle’s background wasn’t exactly high-end; her family wasn’t even middle-class. She’d lived in cheap T-shirts and jeans before this “boyfriend” came along, and now she acted like a celebrity. I nodded absentmindedly, trying to remember what page I was on before she interrupted. Alexa Wind, another roommate, joined Danielle, looping her arm around Danielle’s. “Don’t worry about her. You and she aren’t even in the same league. Let’s have dinner together tonight. I want to hear more about you and your boyfriend!” Danielle smirked and raised her voice. “No can do. I’m going out with my boyfriend tonight.” Jealousy flickered in Alexa’s eyes. “Oh, at a fancy restaurant, right? Be sure to post on your feed!” Danielle said nothing, applying makeup for a solid fifteen minutes before putting on her one dress that cost more than $500, strutting out like a high-society swan. That evening, I ordered spicy gumbo and was eating happily in the dorm when Alexa squealed over her phone, “Danielle just posted! Look! Foie gras, caviar, red wine, steak… Oh my gosh!” A group of roommates crowded around to see, and Alexa glanced at my gumbo with a disdainful look. “Some people go on fancy dates with trust fund guys, and some just stay home with cheap gumbo. Isn’t the difference staggering?” I looked down at my steaming bowl of gumbo. Eating gumbo was a crime now? Seeing I wasn’t reacting, Alexa waved her phone in front of my face. “See? Danielle and her boyfriend are just so perfect together.” I glanced at the picture, and immediately my interest was piqued. The “trust fund guy” with his arm around Danielle? My family’s new security guard! My dad struck it rich with his first jackpot win and eventually made millions in Seattle through successful investments. During high school, I had everything: designer clothes, a chauffeur, and more. But the downside? I nearly got kidnapped. After that, Dad insisted I keep a low profile when I went to college. Even though he’d bought a mansion for me in Greenwich, Connecticut, near Columbia University, he encouraged me to stay on campus with other students. I was still used to high-quality clothes, so when people noticed, I started calling them knockoffs to keep a low profile. Eventually, everyone assumed I was a bit of a poser with a taste for imitation brands. I didn’t care—I was here to study. My dad never got the chance to go to college, so he always told me, “We may have nothing but money, but you study hard and make me proud!” A wall at home was covered with certificates of my achievements, each probably worth pennies, but each framed and tended to by the housekeeper. One time, Dad even climbed a ladder to glue a loose corner back on one of the frames. I came to college aiming to win scholarships every year. Money didn’t matter; it was all about the honor. I spent most of my time in the library and rarely went home to the mansion. Recently, we had to replace one of our security guards, so the previous one recommended his nephew, Tony James. He seemed responsible, so I didn’t hesitate to hire him. And here he was, passing himself off as a rich boyfriend for Danielle! As the roommates huddled around Danielle’s post, I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. 2 Danielle came back from her date, wearing a knockoff Chanel outfit and carrying a pile of gifts. One by one, she unwrapped them, and the roommates fawned over her. “Danielle, that Chanel looks amazing on you.” “Wow, a Gucci perfume too! Can I just hold it for a second?” “So jealous! You had a date at a five-star hotel, right?” Danielle didn’t stop smiling, even sneaking a glance my way as she unwrapped a bag and held it up. “Hey, Sophie, I remember you have a similar Hermès. Wanna bring it out so we can compare?” I took out an earbud, barely responding when Danielle opened my locker, pulling out my Hermès tote to place it beside hers. Danielle raised her voice. “Wow, Sophie, your tote doesn’t look quite the same as mine, does it?” The difference was obvious. Danielle’s was brighter, had thicker edging, and felt smoother—traits of a knockoff. Feigning surprise, Danielle said, “How strange! Mine’s a gift from my boyfriend. Yours came from home, didn’t it?” Alexa, catching Danielle’s hint, chimed in, “Oh yeah, Sophie did start college with knockoffs. Makes sense her bag isn’t the real deal.” Alexa continued, “Sophie, buying fake designer stuff doesn’t change your background. If you’re always flaunting knockoffs, it’s just going to cloud your perspective.” Danielle beamed at Alexa’s support, then turned to me with a condescending look. “I’d rather not have a roommate who doesn’t know right from wrong.” The two of them clearly expected me to cower, but I kept my cool, suppressing the urge to slap down the receipts right in front of them. Dad’s advice flashed in my mind, so I reined it in. “Danielle, did you ask permission before rummaging through my stuff? And Alexa, you’ve got a real knack for flattery. You two make a great team.” Danielle scoffed and picked up a pair of scissors. “Well, if I hadn’t looked, I’d never know just how far your vanity goes. I’ll be nice and help you out by cutting up this knockoff.” She aimed the scissors at my bag, and Alexa stepped closer, urging the others to hold me down. Completely unfazed, I said calmly, “Danielle, go ahead. But if you make a single cut, you’re paying for it.” “Even if this is a fake Hermès, it’s still worth thousands. You sure you can cover it?” After a pause, Danielle backed down, sulking as she put the scissors away. She threw me a glare before retreating. I hadn’t expected Danielle to cave that easily. The cheapest Hermès knockoff could cost just a few hundred bucks, probably around what Danielle’s bag was worth. I glanced her way and said, “Clean up my locker when you’re done.” Alexa sneered, “Sophie, don’t push it.” Danielle ignored me, humming to herself as she cleaned up. But I wasn’t letting it go. “Danielle, I’ll only ask once more. Clean my locker.” Danielle rolled her eyes, acting indifferent, but I stood up, kicked her chair, and said firmly, “I won’t ask again.” My roommates were all rich kids, unused to confrontation, and froze. Even Alexa went silent. Danielle gave a small shiver but reluctantly came over to clean up. I heard her mumble an insult under her breath, but I didn’t care. When she finished, I checked my now-organized locker, then returned to my seat and started reading my textbook out loud. The dorm went completely quiet, my voice clear as day. 3 I didn’t give Danielle much more thought, putting all my energy into earning a scholarship. My GPA was the highest in the department, I aced all my physical exams, and I participated in every scholarship-eligible event. So imagine my shock on award day when Danielle’s name topped the list for the National Merit Scholarship—and mine was nowhere to be found, not even a minor award. The hours I’d poured into studying, the sweat I’d shed—all a joke. Fuming, I checked my records. My scores were all top-tier except for “character,” where Ms. Julia Lambert had marked me as “unsatisfactory.” Heart pounding with anger and confusion, I marched to Ms. Lambert’s office. Upon entering, I found Danielle sitting there, smiling, as if she had just received an award. “Wow, didn’t expect to get so lucky. Guess hard work doesn’t always pay off, huh, Sophie?” Ignoring her, I asked, “Ms. Lambert, I have a question about the scholarship results.” Ms. Lambert sighed, adjusting her glasses, and said coldly, “Sophie, academics aren’t everything. You lack teamwork and character, so I couldn’t recommend you for the scholarship.” I was stunned. As a class rep, I got along with everyone and often lent my notes before exams. I’d done nothing to deserve this… except maybe clash with my roommates. Danielle’s guilty expression confirmed my suspicion. Taking a deep breath, I calmly turned to Ms. Lambert. “Ms. Lambert, basing this on one person’s word seems unfair.” Ms. Lambert’s face hardened. “Are you questioning my decision?” Danielle piled on. “Oh, Ms. Lambert, don’t bother with her. Sophie can be pretty low-brow.” I couldn’t help but notice Ms. Lambert’s “Tiffany” bracelet, a familiar knockoff. “Ms. Lambert, that Tiffany bracelet—you got that from Danielle, didn’t you?” Leaving Ms. Lambert speechless, I exited, saying, “If I can’t get justice here, there’s always the Dean.” Danielle sneered, “Go ahead. I’d love to see you try.” In the hallway, whispers buzzed about the scholarship. The room fell silent as I passed, except for Alexa’s mocking voice. “Well, look who’s here—the top student. Can’t even snag a scholarship?” I ignored her, called the Dean’s office, and when I couldn’t reach him, sent a long email detailing everything with evidence attached. After a week of waiting and disappointment, I had just given up when my phone buzzed. It was a message from Dad: “Don’t forget about your old man now that you’ve won! Keep up the good work.” Choked with emotion, I video-called my parents, finally letting the tears flow as I explained everything. Mom was furious, slapping Dad on the shoulder. “Frank, you call the Dean right now and demand this counselor be fired!” I sniffled, “I’ve tried; they don’t respond. What can Dad do?” Dad scratched his head. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m on the board of trustees.” Before I could react, the Dean called personally, apologizing and promising immediate action. Right as Danielle strutted in, the Dean’s voice rang through the speaker, “As per school policy, your roommate will face disciplinary action and return the scholarship.” Danielle burst out laughing. “Really, Sophie? Did you just hire someone to pretend they’re the Dean? That’s hilarious!”

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My mom is a madwoman, and ever since I can remember, she’s forced me to pretend I’m mute. She calls me her son, binds my chest with strips of cloth, makes me stand up to pee, and even chains me at home like a dog. When I was eleven, Virgil Thompson, the village chief, brought over four relatives to spend the night with my mother. The bed creaked wildly, and Virgil joked, “What a shame that the mute one isn’t a girl. Then we could all get some fun out of it and have her give us each a kid.” And right then, I felt a rush of warmth between my legs. That was my first orgasm. The woods were thick with mosquitoes, and by the time I got back from picking berries, my skin was covered in itchy red bumps. It was a lively day in the village. Aunt Martha and Aunt Jean had both given birth. By the time I got back, it was all over, and there were two tiny, wrinkled bundles left behind. The midwife lifted Aunt Martha’s baby and announced, “A boy!” Everyone cheered. She then raised Aunt Jean’s child and said, “Another money drain!” Old Man Lee’s face darkened immediately. He lifted the squalling little girl by one foot, squinting at her. “Ugly thing,” he muttered. “Ha!” Virgil Thompson laughed. “What can you expect from a woman you bought for five hundred bucks? Might as well drown her and save some grain.” Mr. Dean Rivers, the teacher, chimed in, “You know, the only decent woman left in this village is that madwoman’s daughter. Too bad she’s broken beyond repair. Look at the mute one’s face, though – not even grown yet, but there’s already a hint of her mom’s sassiness.” Right then, he spotted me and waved. “Hey, Mute, come over here! Got some food for you!” The stone table near the village gate was piled with fresh bread rolls. I couldn’t hold back my drool, so I put down my basket and walked over. Mr. Dean Rivers handed me the crying baby girl and said, “Go on, drown her. Uncle will give you half a roll.”

This wasn’t the first time a girl had been drowned in Coldwater Hollow. According to Virgil, girls were just mouths to feed – they ate a lot, didn’t work as much, and by the time you raised one up, the grain it cost would be more than the price of a wife you could buy from outside. Take my mom, for instance. She went to a top college, and she was sold off for barely two grand. If you raised a girl from birth, between all the food and the work, it would cost you at least three or four thousand. On top of that, farm-raised girls are tougher and darker from working under the sun – none of that fresh, pretty look you’d get from an outsider. So, there usually weren’t girls in the village. Aunt Martha was an exception. She’d been brought in along with her little five-year-old girl. They said her daughter was as pretty as a doll, with a porcelain complexion, and Uncle Harvey spoiled her, fed her the best, and didn’t let her do any chores. By the time she was old enough, the men in the village would go visit her. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes in groups. Sometimes just her, sometimes with Aunt Martha too. They always seemed so pleased afterward, and Uncle Harvey would sit by the door collecting coins, either a dollar or fifty cents a head. With Aunt Martha and her daughter around, Uncle Harvey never had to work in the fields. I remember that the girl had already grown into a young woman by then. When the traffickers came around again, Uncle Harvey showed her off, and they bought her for a handful of fresh bills. That money built their house. When Uncle Harvey’s house went up, everyone was envious. Soon, they were all coming over to spend nights with my mother. My mom was much prettier than Aunt Martha. They all said that if she had a daughter, she’d be even more beautiful. But Mom never got pregnant again.

I took the baby girl from Mr. Dean Rivers. She was all wrinkled, with bruises under her skin, but her cries were loud, and her little arms and legs waved around, reaching out into the air. The stone table near the village gate already had a basin of water waiting. I leaned her back into it. She flailed and cried, almost like she was trying to swim while I held her. People crowded around eagerly to watch. I let go, and she began struggling desperately. Water splashed everywhere, and she choked, her cries louder than before. The men laughed, and the women stayed far back. “Hold her down! Don’t let her splash me!” Virgil shouted. Mom never let me see when they drowned a girl, but I’d watched from high up in the fruit trees on the mountainside. I was just about to press the baby’s arms and legs down like I’d seen, but then someone shoved me hard. It was my mom. She held me down on the ground, scratching and clawing at me, screaming, “You rotten thing! You good-for-nothing!” I curled up on the ground, wailing and crying. But Mom didn’t care. She beat me until she was exhausted, while the village chief and everyone else laughed. “Look, the madwoman’s going off again!” “Mute, hit her back! Beat the crazy out of her!” My mom pinned me to the ground, panting heavily. Her eyes were red, brimming with tears. I didn’t understand why she was so angry. They drowned girls every year here. Just like I didn’t understand why she kept binding my chest every day. I liked the way my chest had started to feel, the way it was slowly rising. Because it made me feel like I looked a little bit like her.

Mom left my face bruised and swollen. While she hit me, the village chief was nearby drowning the newborn girl. The sound of her coughing and gasping mingled with Mom’s crying, and it was terrifying. The girl died quickly. The village dogs began barking, fighting over the tiny body. Mom wrapped a dog chain around my neck and yelled crazily, “Take the dog out for a walk! Chop it up for stew, dog meat stew!” Everyone laughed as they wandered off. Some even joked, “How many pots do you think that’ll make?” Mom rattled the chain, “Go on, boy! Bite him! Bite him!” I didn’t move, and the people asking her laughed and went back to their feast. Mom pulled me by the chain, heading toward the Smoky Ridge Trail on the edge of the village. Mr. Dean Rivers said this was our own hidden Eden. The mountain god, he said, watched over the men here, protecting their livestock, their poultry, and their women from the outside world.

The villagers said that after my dad died, no one repaired our house, so it fell apart. Mom and I lived in a shack at the foot of the mountain. There were guards stationed on the path leading in and out of the village. At first, they wouldn’t let us near, but Mom went off with one of them into the bushes, and after that, we were allowed to stay. I waited a long time for her to come back. When she did, she had a flashlight. She clicked it on, and I saw dust dancing in the beam. Mom reached into my messy hair, “Does it hurt?” It hurt. But not like it used to. I wasn’t really mute. Ever since I could remember, Mom had forbidden me to speak in front of others. If I disobeyed, she’d beat me. So I spoke slowly and haltingly, “N-now it d-doesn’t hurt anymore.” Tears began to roll down Mom’s face. “Oh, baby, how could you take a life like that?” She cradled my face. “It was just a biscuit – just a biscuit!” I looked at her, confused. But it was a biscuit. A soft, warm biscuit that was delicious and didn’t scratch my throat. In my life, how often do I get to eat something like that? I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had one. Mom’s eyes welled up again as she looked at me. She held me tightly, crying as if she’d just lost something precious. She cried for a long time, and my back went numb from holding her. I thought about that baby girl the dogs fought over. Why hadn’t she let me drown her? If I hadn’t done it, someone else would have. If I’d done it, Virgil would have given me that warm biscuit. Then Mom and I could have split it. We’d each get half. No, I’d give Mom most of it. I’d only need a little. Mom worked so hard – farming, cooking, gathering firewood, patching up our shack. If I ever got my hands on one of those biscuits, I’d give Mom most of it. I’d be happy with just a small bite.

Mom cried for a long time before finally stopping. Then she went back to saying the same things she’d been saying for years. She looked at me and said, “Joy, tell me one more time. After you get over the mountain, what will you do?” I didn’t really understand why she kept asking. Everyone knows you can’t get over that mountain. The village is the whole world. But I went along with her anyway, saying, “After I get over the mountain, I’ll go west toward the sunset, and walk for a long time. I’ll pass three towns with lots of people, and then, in the fourth town, I’ll find a store and break everything inside.” “And if the store owner tries to stop you, then what?” she asked. “I’ll call the cops, tell them to call my Grandpa to pay for it. My Grandpa’s name is Samuel Alexander, he lives in Oakwood Estates in Parkland, Illinois. He has a daughter named Rachel Alexander. Rachel, like a home full of books,” I recited. Mom’s tears rolled down her face. “Joy, one day you’ll have all the bread rolls you want. And there’ll be meat, vegetables – things that smell good. You’ll have pretty dresses, and you’ll go to school, meet a man who respects you, loves you, and you’ll have a happy life.” I nodded to comfort her. It was obvious her mind was slipping again. How could there be plenty of bread rolls? I may only be eleven, but I’ve learned enough to understand the way things work in this world. Bread rolls only come out at big gatherings. Only Virgil and the men who bring new wives to the village get meat or vegetables. A “pretty dress” was just another one of Mom’s delusions. A girl is only a tool for men to have children and do work. Why would men respect or love a tool? Even though Mom had always tried to turn me into a boy, I was still just a girl. How could I ever have a happy life? As long as I can sell myself for a good price someday and make life a little easier for Mom, that’s enough for me.

The next day, before dawn, I was woken up by a woman’s desperate cries. “Please! I’m begging you!” “Let me go!” “I’ll give you money!” “My family has money, I can pay you more!” It was delivery day for the new “wives,” and sure enough, the new ones were already fighting. I’d seen this so many times before. Women usually fought when they first arrived. The tougher ones put up a fight, but after a few more beatings, they’d give up. The harder they fought, the worse they got beaten. The other women would tell them, “Stop fighting. Just accept it.” But Mom never said that. She’d told me once, “This place is a trafficker’s village. Every woman here was taken from somewhere else.” She said every man here deserved to die and that they’d all pay for what they’d done. I used to believe her without a doubt. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to wonder if she’s wrong. Is there really such a thing as justice? They all seem so happy. One of the new women was pulled out of the shack, her clothes ripped off, her cries of pain drowned out by the men’s laughter. Virgil’s son, only seven years old, joined in, poking and prodding her, encouraged by the men. Mom covered my eyes. “Don’t look.” But I’d already seen it too many times. The cries of those women never left me; they were always so full of despair, while the men were so full of joy. Mom seemed to be planning something. “Tell me again, what’s Grandpa’s name?” she asked. I repeated, “Grandpa’s name is Samuel Alexander. He lives in Oakwood Estates in Parkland, Illinois. He has a daughter named Rachel Alexander. Rachel, like a home full of books.” Mom nodded through her tears. “Don’t worry. Everything will be alright. Very soon. I promise you, baby.”

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I’m a sophomore in college, and for the past four months, I’ve hidden my pregnancy from everyone, including my parents. Watching my belly start to show, I had no choice but to move out. Now, I spend my days in a small rented room, surviving on expired bread and puking until I feel like I might pass out. But the most terrifying part? I don’t know who the father is. I was drunk that night and have no memory of what happened. It started because I couldn’t stop throwing up. When I saw a pregnancy test lying around in the bathroom, I couldn’t help myself; I grabbed one and took it. To my shock, it was positive—two solid lines. I stood there, hands shaking, staring at the test in disbelief. My boyfriend and I had never gone all the way, and I was still a virgin…yet here I was, pregnant. The next day, I took a day off from classes and went to Chicago Memorial Hospital to get checked out. The doctor looked at my results and told me, “Congratulations, you’re already ten weeks along. The baby’s heart is beating normally, and everything looks healthy.” My mind went blank. Fear and confusion washed over me, but I somehow managed to ask through clenched teeth, “Doctor, my boyfriend and I…we’ve only been…close, but never fully intimate.” “Well, that does depend on how close. It’s rare, but it’s possible for pregnancy to occur even with limited contact,” she explained seriously. “Maybe you’re just very fertile.” On my way back, I was still dazed and barely holding myself together. I called Ben Harris, my boyfriend. As soon as he picked up, I burst into tears and told him about the pregnancy. He was silent, then finally said, “That’s impossible.” When we met, his reaction wasn’t to comfort me but to explode, yelling, “Lily Thompson, don’t play dumb with me. We’ve never gone that far, so who’s the real father? Don’t make me play the fool.” Shocked, I yelled back, “Don’t try to pin this on me! You’re my first love, and I’ve always been careful!” Red-faced, he fired back, “Well, it’s not mine. Our ‘close moments’ didn’t go that far…are you seriously that clueless?” Seeing him so defensive, my heart sank, and I was left with only one option. “Fine, then. If that’s how you feel, let’s just break up.” I turned and walked away, holding back tears. Yet even after all this, I couldn’t go through with it. When I arrived alone at the clinic, I stood outside the door, trembling. Just as they called me back, I panicked and ran out. Lost in thought on my way home, I recalled the doctor’s words: ten weeks. Ben and I had only been away together twice, and even the last time was two weeks off from when I supposedly conceived. Ten weeks ago would have been before winter break—when a bunch of us went out to that karaoke bar downtown and sang until late. The next morning, I had woken up in a strange hotel room with no memory of how I got there. I’d assumed a friend had taken me back, but since my clothes were neat, I thought I’d just gotten too drunk and left it at that. Suddenly, it all clicked: Ben must have taken advantage of me that night and wouldn’t admit it. Calming down, I went back to the bar to check the door footage from that night, but they told me it had been erased after 30 days. Luckily, the coffee shop across the street kept three months of footage, and I managed to get their exterior video from that night. I watched, hoping to catch Ben taking me away so I could confront him, make him own up as the father, and finally discuss what to do about this baby. But to my surprise, the footage showed it wasn’t Ben who took me that night. In fact, right after winter break started, he’s caught on video saying a blurry goodbye: “See you next year, guys!” and walking away. Then he takes a phone call and leaves early, not returning that night at all. My mind went blank, thunderstruck. If it wasn’t him, then…who is the father of the child I’m carrying?

Just then, I noticed I had two unread messages on my phone. One was from my stepbrother, Ethan Marshall, and the other was an odd message from my class group chat, with a notice from Mr. Tom Farley. Ethan is my mother’s stepson from her second marriage. He’s two years older than me and didn’t do well in school, so he left for tech school early. We hardly talk and don’t have much in common. Today, though, he sent a message out of the blue, asking, “Hey, how’ve you been? I’m on my way to Chicago on the train; thought I’d come visit you.” Why would Ethan suddenly decide to visit me after all this time? I frowned. In the class group chat, Mr. Farley had posted something equally strange: “Physical exams will be scheduled soon, and it’s important they reflect accurately in your records. If you’re not feeling well, see someone about it soon…” Was it a warning, or was I just being paranoid? When I went to meet Ethan at Union Station, he showed up with bags in tow, wearing my stepdad’s old army jacket and a cigarette dangling from his lips. His slouchy, careless attitude didn’t fit in with my student life at all. To this day, I don’t know what my mom saw in my stepfather and his son—messy, poor, and plain-looking. Ethan saw me and gave a lazy smile, ignoring my distasteful look. “So, this is a rare warm welcome from my little sister. How’s that fancy Big Ten university treating you?” he asked. “Great. Not that it’s any of your business,” I replied coolly. “You seeing anyone?” “Yes,” I said shortly. “Same class as me, handsome and from a great family.” I walked faster, not interested in telling him Ben and I had broken up. “Looks aren’t everything. You need someone who’ll treat you right, like our dad treats your mom. That’s why he got her in the first place,” he said, looking smug. “Times have changed, not every successful woman is as love-struck as my mom,” I replied sarcastically. “I booked you a hotel, so you can stay there for now.” He’d come to Chicago supposedly looking for work since he said the jobs back home were no good, and my mom had asked me to help him out. As we walked into the hotel lobby, his phone rang. “Couldn’t stay in school, now you’re out of a job too, huh? You’re going to give your grandpa a heart attack!” It was my stepdad, calling him out. Ethan snapped back, “Well, maybe I’ll finally find him a granddaughter-in-law, a girl just like he’s always wanted.” “Stay close to your sister; you don’t know anyone there…” my stepdad added. “I know Chicago better than you think. I came here before winter break, didn’t I?” he retorted. I stopped dead in my tracks, handing him his room card, and stared at him in shock. “You came here before winter break?” He hesitated and then shrugged it off. “Maybe. Don’t remember.” He popped a gum bubble, made a face at me, and then took his bags, heading for the elevator. As the doors closed, my mind exploded. Two months ago, when I was assaulted…he was in Chicago too? My fists clenched, and memories of something horrible from years ago crept up. Even by society’s standards, we were siblings. Well…until that one day when we crossed a terrible line.

It was six summers ago. I was thirteen, just beginning to mature, and looked older than my age. I often got attention from boys, though I was a straight-A student and kept to myself. That summer, my mom and stepdad had only been married six months, and Ethan had just moved in with us. I remember that one humid afternoon. The power went out, and I lay on a mat, trying to nap, though I was sticky from the heat and only half-asleep. In a daze, I felt something cool run across my skin, followed by a sound of admiration. “Who’s there?” I jerked awake and saw my tank top bunched up around my waist, and there was Ethan, smirking above me, acne and hormones plastered across his face. “You’re so pretty, Lily.” With no one else home, I had no way of pushing him off. “Help! What are you doing?!” I yelled, trying to fight him off. I screamed in pain, which seemed to spook him, and he eventually backed off without doing anything more. But he still left me sobbing and ran out of the house in a panic. I buried that memory deep to protect my mom’s happiness. After that, I applied to board at school and practically stayed away for all of high school. Even though Ethan never tried anything again, I couldn’t let go of the grudge. Now, if he was in Chicago that night two months ago, could he have been the one who hurt me? I sat there, lips trembling, overwhelmed. It was too much to handle alone, so I reached out to Megan, my closest friend, and cried my heart out. While I was always the one jumping into relationships, Megan was the voice of reason who kept me grounded. But even her usual calm vanished when she saw my ultrasound report. “You’re pregnant?” she whispered, shocked. “I thought you didn’t believe in premarital…wait, did that jerk Ben force himself on you?” “No, we broke up. I have no idea who the father is,” I replied, drained. After I told her everything, Megan thought carefully, then asked, “Why not check the hotel’s security footage from that night?” Most places keep records for at least three months, so I went to the hotel, but they refused, citing guest privacy. Helpless, I held my stomach and sighed, “Maybe I should just get an abortion, then report it?” Megan shook her head. “If you do that, all evidence will be gone, and without it, the police will be powerless. It’s already been almost three months. It could be anyone from your group that night, and reporting it without proof will only raise suspicions.” She was right. But how could I figure out who had hurt me? Megan paused, thinking back on her time working nights at The Rave. She’d seen all kinds of wild stories.

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During a basketball game at Westfield, I accidentally broke the Cartier watch of Chelsea White, one of the most popular, wealthy girls at school. Tyler, my boyfriend, rushed over to her, carefully cradling her wrist as he scolded me, “Harper, can’t you be more careful? Can you even afford to replace this?” Just a Cartier? Please. I have a drawer full of Vacheron Constantins and Rolexes at home, yet I’ve never seen him worry over me like this. The Student Council organized a girls’ basketball game, and during the match, my elbow collided with something hard as I fought Chelsea for the ball. I didn’t think much of it—bumps and hits are just part of the game. But she screeched, “Stop! Harper, you broke my watch!” It’s just a watch. What’s she so worked up about? The game was intense, and we were close to winning. I wasn’t about to stop over this. “Sorry, I’ll cover it, okay? Let’s just finish the game first.” But Chelsea, in all her self-righteousness, snatched the ball right out of my hands and tossed it out of bounds, forcing the game to stop. I wasn’t thrilled. She held her chin high and announced, “Harper, this is a Cartier.” I glanced at her wrist. Watches aren’t really my thing—I don’t usually wear one. I could tell it was Cartier, but I had no idea which model or its price. Definitely didn’t look vintage, so maybe a few thousand. Fixing a watch face isn’t even a big expense. Her dramatic reaction wasn’t necessary. Everyone huddled around. “Oh my God, Chelsea, what are you going to do?” “Look at that shattered face! Oh, it makes me cringe.” Seeing everyone look so worried, I asked, “Is this thing really that expensive?” Someone who clearly knew their stuff spoke up, “Of course! It’s a Ballon Bleu!” Chelsea shoved her wrist in my face. “Over four thousand dollars!” Everyone gasped. That was way off from the tens of thousands I’d imagined. For that price, getting the glass repaired shouldn’t cost more than a couple hundred at most. She grimaced. “I’ll have to send it to a Cartier store, and then they’ll ship it to Switzerland for repairs. It’ll take at least a month!” What a hassle. “Tell you what, I’ll get you a new one,” I offered. Though I doubted she’d like a Vacheron. My parents have given me watches that start at ten grand, but I don’t wear them, so they’re all just sitting at home. Might as well give her one of those. “A new one?” She looked scornful. “This isn’t some knock-off, you know! My dad brought this straight from Switzerland!” It’s not like I planned on giving her a fake. This girl was unbelievable. I’d heard her family had some money. She carried a different Louis Vuitton or Chanel bag every day and treated people to bubble tea pretty often. But my family isn’t exactly struggling. That new building on campus? My dad donated that. I asked, “So, what do you want to do about it?” My boyfriend, Tyler, had just come back with water for me and was caught up on the whole situation. He turned to me with this look of blame, “Harper, couldn’t you be more careful?!” How was I supposed to know someone would be wearing a watch while playing basketball? Doesn’t it feel uncomfortable? Doesn’t it get in the way? “Harper, look at yourself. Can you even afford this?” Tyler had never spoken to me like this before. He gently held Chelsea’s wrist as if it was something precious. It’s just a broken watch. And my elbow’s still throbbing. “All right, Chelsea, how do you want to handle this? How much is it going to cost?” She still looked mournful. “I’ll have to get it checked at the store first.” Fine. “Just send me the receipt once it’s checked, and I’ll wire you the money.” Seemed like a reasonable solution. With all this fuss, I didn’t even feel like playing anymore. Neither did anyone else; they were too busy gossiping. “Wow, how’s Harper so calm about this? That’s going to be at least a few thousand. She’ll need to skip meals for months to pay that off.” “She doesn’t even know what it’ll cost to replace the glass! She probably thinks it’s just a piece of cheap glass.” I keep a low profile at Westfield. I don’t flaunt my wealth, and though my clothes and dorm decor are nice, they’re discreet with no big logos. Most people can’t tell what brand anything is. In situations like this, I can’t just flash my bank balance and yell, “I’ve got money.” Whatever. I couldn’t care less what they thought. I grabbed my stuff and walked off the court.

Tyler caught up to me and put his arm around my shoulder. “Harper, are you upset?” It would be a lie to say I wasn’t. He hadn’t given my feelings a second thought. “Don’t be mad, okay? I did it all for you. Didn’t you notice I was giving you the ‘play along’ look?” I honestly hadn’t. “By calling you out, I was trying to get Chelsea to drop it. As long as I showed I was on her side, she wouldn’t make it worse for you.” Is that how it worked? I wasn’t convinced. “Besides, I kept stressing that you couldn’t afford it, thinking Chelsea would let it go. But you didn’t get my hint at all and offered to pay right away!” It’s just a bit of money. Our cook spends more than that on groceries. Why waste time arguing? “Look, Harper, I’ll cover half of it for you.” I waved him off. “No need.” “We’re a couple. When we get married, it’ll all be shared assets anyway. Half and half sounds about right.” He took my hand and smiled sweetly. Turns out his “planning” was really just his practical thinking for our future together. Nice to know. I leaned into him. “What are our plans for tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, and my family didn’t know I was dating anyone. My brother, Damon, who swore we two single “loners” needed to stick together, wanted to take me out. Tyler sighed, “Harper, I have to tutor tomorrow.” Oh. I had hoped he’d meet my brother. I felt a bit let down. But he looked determined. “It’s all for our future.” Tyler was always working so hard. As his girlfriend, it made sense to support him. “All right, then.”

Early Valentine’s Day, Tyler asked me to come downstairs. He was holding a bouquet of red roses and a beautifully wrapped gift bag. The moment he saw me, he gave me a big hug. “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe. I can’t stay long, but we had to keep the tradition going, right?” I thought I wouldn’t get to see him, but he’d clearly prepared a gift in advance. We chatted briefly, and he left. I happily went back to my dorm and opened the gift. It was a YSL gift set. My roommates gasped. “Wow, Harper, your boyfriend really spoils you!” “He must’ve spent a lot. No wonder he’s been so busy. He’s been working extra to afford this!” Tyler had given me what he thought was his very best. I was pleased. Jessie, my roommate and a beauty blogger, gave the box a long look but stayed quiet. She had a sharp eye for quality, so when she didn’t react, the other two hesitated to keep praising. “Jessie, is there something wrong?” I asked. She picked up the lipstick, examining it with a hint of reluctance. “I’m not completely sure. Let me check with a friend.” My heart sank. I’d never thought much about fake products or the difference between genuine and counterfeit. But if Jessie had doubts, there was a strong chance it was a fake. Out of consideration, she offered to double-check with someone. My other roommate consoled me, “Harper, maybe Tyler doesn’t know about luxury brands and got scammed.” “Yeah, straight guys can’t tell the difference between real and fake products.” They had a point. I messaged Tyler, “Where did you buy this gift set?” A few minutes later, he replied, “From the official store.” He even attached a screenshot of the purchase record. Could fake items show up in an official store? Or maybe Jessie was wrong this time? Tyler: “Is something wrong, babe? Don’t you like it?” Me: “No, it’s great. Thank you.” Tyler: “As long as you’re happy. I have to go tutor now, but let’s talk later, okay?” Damon took me to Lakeside Amusement Park, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Then, Jessie sent me another message, “It’s fake.” She shared some comparison photos of real and fake products. “Tyler probably bought it from an off-brand store.” She even sent a link to a $100 YSL gift set that matched mine exactly. “If he told you the truth, maybe he really thought YSL was that cheap. But if he’s lying, you should think twice about staying with him.” I was at a loss for words. I asked her, “Could the official store sell fakes?” “No way. This set is so obviously fake. If an official store ever sold counterfeit goods, they’d at least make it harder to spot.” But Tyler really did have a screenshot from the official store. I sent it to Jessie. She replied, “What if the official store gift wasn’t meant for you?” Good point. What if Tyler bought one from an off-brand store and one from the official store, one for me and one for someone else? That would explain it. But no—Tyler would never do something so low, right? We’d been together for over a year. We were solid. He’d never betray me like that. But just then, I spotted a familiar figure in the crowd. It looked like Tyler. Wasn’t he supposed to be tutoring? What was he doing here?

I was about to go after him when Damon returned with an ice cream cone. “What’s up?” he asked, noticing my expression. “I thought I saw a friend.” But in the blink of an eye, that familiar figure vanished. I licked my ice cream, then texted Tyler: “Where are you?” It took him half an hour to reply: “I’m tutoring.” Almost as if to prove it, he sent a picture of a kid bent over their homework. “Miss me already? I’ll come find you when I’m done, okay?” Once a seed of doubt is planted, it takes root quickly. I wanted to video call him right then. But with Damon next to me, I held off. After turning down yet another girl who asked for his number, Damon finally turned to me. “You don’t seem too happy, Harper.” “Mhm.” “No Valentine’s gift?” he guessed. I shook my head. Damon didn’t care what I was thinking, though, and snapped his fingers. Out of nowhere, a whole bunch of guys dressed like wannabe “princes” surrounded me. “Pick one, or a few, and they’ll keep you entertained.” This was classic Damon—wild and unpredictable. I mean, how was I supposed to handle ten of them? “Hey, Damon, I…” He gasped in mock surprise, “What?! You want all of them?” “When did I say that?!” He shrugged. “Fine, fine, only kids choose. We’ll take them all!” I rolled my eyes. “Let’s just go grab dinner, Damon,” I said, trying to keep my irritation in check. The guys he brought in were attractive, sure, but I had a boyfriend. It didn’t feel right. That was, until Jessie texted me again. Jessie: “Harper, aren’t you with Tyler today?” Me: “Nope. He’s tutoring. I’m out with Damon.” But then she sent me a photo. It was Tyler and Chelsea at the claw machine in the same amusement park. The amusement park we were currently in. And this place isn’t cheap—at most places, tokens are a dollar each, but here, they’re ten. Every round at the machine costs twenty. Chelsea’s arms were full of stuffed animals. Knowing Tyler’s skills, it’d probably taken him at least ten tries to win each one. So he’s spending hundreds on claw machines for Chelsea, while he bought me a $100 knock-off YSL gift set? Jessie: “Do you want me to keep an eye on them? I can stay back.” Me: “Don’t worry about it, Jessie. I’ll handle it myself.” I’d had enough. I called Tyler, and after four unanswered calls, he finally picked up on the fifth. “Harper, what are you doing? I’m tutoring, and the kid’s parents are sitting right here!” he said, sounding irritated. I took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. “Video call me.” “I’m busy, Harper. Do you know how tiring tutoring is? Can you please not be so unreasonable?” His frustration was obvious. He wasn’t even trying to hide his irritation anymore. “So, am I the one being unreasonable, or are you feeling guilty about something?” I asked, my voice cool. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m working hard for our future, and here you are questioning me?” Our future? His idea of a future meant cozying up to a wealthy girl like Chelsea? Not on my watch. I hung up, sending him the link to the off-brand gift set and the photo of him with Chelsea. I left one final message: “We’re done.” And then I blocked him across the board. How long had this been going on with Chelsea? And that YSL set—the real one was for her, wasn’t it? Chelsea, the so-called high-and-mighty rich girl who claims she hates secondhand and vintage. Isn’t it funny that she’d go for someone else’s boyfriend?

After dinner, Damon drove me back to campus. I’d barely made it a few steps when a bank notification came through. It was a transfer of fifty grand from Damon. Damon: “Sis, just a little spending money—retail therapy makes everything better, right?” I was still grinning at my phone when I heard a loud shout behind me. “Harper! Never thought you’d turn out to be such a gold digger!” It was Tyler. My smile vanished as I turned around, expression already set. I tried to walk away, but he grabbed my arm, refusing to let go. “I saw you getting out of that Maybach! Who the hell were you with today?” Was he seriously pulling this? Fine. He wanted a confrontation? I’d give him one. “You never went to tutor anyone today, did you?” He let out a slow breath. “No, I was with Chelsea. I figured if I made her happy, she’d let the whole watch thing slide.” I couldn’t believe this excuse. Did he really expect me to believe he was doing this “for me”? And on Valentine’s Day, of all days? Softening his tone, he tried again, “Harper, I did it for you.” I let out a laugh, cold and sharp. “For me? Did I ask you to pay her back for that watch? Did I ask you to waste money at the amusement park with her? Or to get her a bunch of claw machine toys?” He froze, speechless for a moment. I continued, “Tyler, the next time you try to pass the blame, do me a favor—find a better excuse.” I took a step back, putting space between us. But he reached for my hand, gazing at me like he thought he could sweet-talk his way out of this. “Harper, I care about you.” Now, I felt nothing but disgust. “I just…look, I’ll be a senior soon. And I need to start getting serious about finding a good internship.” Right. And Chelsea’s family ran a business. I understood exactly what he was getting at. “Oh, Harper, you know what they say: a relationship without financial stability is just like sand—it blows away with the first breeze. I’m only trying to build a better life for us.” I almost burst out laughing. Tyler Young, quoting The Big Dream like he thought he’d get brownie points for it. “Cut the crap, Tyler. Just admit you’re after the easy route. Using ‘a better life’ as your excuse is nothing but a smokescreen to hide your own insecurity and selfishness.” “Us? No way. You can keep your knock-off Valentine’s Day gift set. I’ll give it back tomorrow,” I said. “My parents gave me enough real things—I don’t need some dollar-store mascara. I mean, the cheap junk might just give me a rash.” “I showed you the receipt! Who told you it was a knock-off, anyway? That ‘influencer’ roommate of yours? She’s just jealous!” His voice was rising, his face twisting with anger in a way I’d never seen before. You know the saying: “The louder the voice, the weaker the argument”? That was him, in a nutshell. Tyler assumed I couldn’t tell the difference between real and fake brands, and that I’d just believe whatever he said. As if Jessie would be jealous over a fake $100 set. She received PR packages from brands all the time. What would she need to envy? “The real set—the one you bought at the flagship store—you gave it to Chelsea, right? Buying knock-offs and passing them off as high-end? That’s some impressive penny-pinching.” Tyler finally snapped. “Once you give a gift, there’s no taking it back!” I smirked. “Oh, perfect. Then I’ll toss it in the trash.” “Transfer me back the $138!” Was he serious? Sure, it was a hundred bucks, something I’d normally never think twice about. But this wasn’t about the money—it was about not putting up with his nonsense. I scoffed, “Wait—did you forget to buy shipping insurance on it?” He froze. Of course, he had. “Tell you what—I’ll let Jessie return it tomorrow. I’m not sending you a dime.” He pointed a finger in my face, furious. “Harper, you’re just a greedy, materialistic user! Cheap and pathetic!” Oh, so he wasn’t broke—he just thought I wasn’t worth spending anything decent on. I looked down at myself. A custom bag worth over $30K, a pair of shoes that ran close to nine…my outfit alone could cover a down payment on a house in some cities. And he thought I wasn’t “worth it”? “You couldn’t even shine Chelsea’s shoes!” he spat, and for a second, my throat went tight with tears. This was how he really saw me—as a discount option. Staying there any longer, I’d only embarrass myself. I turned and walked away. But even as I tried to leave, he wouldn’t stop. “Harper! Nobody else will treat you like I did! Everyone else just wants to mess around with you! You think you’ll find someone who actually cares?” “Forget ever seeing me again! Chelsea’s already agreed to be with me! You’ll come crying back, just watch!” I sped up, mortified. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be shouting. I might be embarrassed, but not as much as he should have been.

Heartbreak? That’s what shopping sprees are for. Damon really got it—retail therapy was the cure. Afterward, I headed back to the dorms, arms full of bags, and handed out gifts to my roommates. Jessie was holding a brand-new Dior bag, eyes wide. “Harper, where did you hit the jackpot?” I just smiled and kept quiet. Jessie was seriously loyal. The second she heard about Tyler’s betrayal, she made a video about it, telling her followers every ridiculous detail. She left out the names but let her followers know she was a student at Westfield. Now, everyone was trying to piece together who this cheapskate was. Someone even brought it up on the Westfield Confessions Board. Tyler better lay low for a while, or someone would inevitably connect the dots. On Friday afternoon, I headed over to the student council meeting. As I reached the door, I heard voices already chatting inside. “Wonder how she got so much money to buy all those bags—her ex Tyler says she’s been playing both sides. She’s got a rich guy giving her gifts but won’t let go of ‘ol Tyler the up-and-coming success story either.” Only Tyler would say something like that. Referring to himself as a “rising star,” what a joke. “Even if she is getting bags from some rich dude, she wouldn’t flaunt it so obviously, right? I bet that bag’s fake…” “Yeah, exactly! She said she’d buy Chelsea a new watch after breaking her old one. That was a Cartier, not a cheap knock-off!” I was enjoying listening in when someone suddenly tapped my shoulder. Before I could react, they covered my mouth to stifle my yelp. I turned around—it was Logan, the student council president. He motioned for me to stay quiet, letting go of my mouth before standing by the door to eavesdrop with me. Wasn’t Logan usually all business and aloof? I never expected him to join me in something like this. The conversation inside didn’t seem to be going anywhere, though, and after a few minutes, Logan leaned in and whispered, “Had enough?” I nodded. He gestured for me to step aside, then pushed the door open and strode in. The room fell silent immediately. I waited a moment before following him inside. Chelsea’s friends, who shared her department, looked me up and down. I casually placed my brand-new Hermès bag on the table right next to Chelsea’s LV, making a clear statement. This wasn’t about competing; it was about cutting Chelsea down a peg. She couldn’t handle it. “Harper, can I see your bag?” she asked, forcing a smile. “Go ahead.” She inspected it thoroughly, practically needing a magnifying glass for every detail. Finally, she looked up and asked, “Where’d you get it? The details look surprisingly realistic.” The not-so-subtle implication was clear. “Oh, it’s authentic,” I replied, sipping my bubble tea. “I picked it up at the mall. But you—usually carrying LV and Chanel—how come you know so much about Hermès?” Who says I couldn’t throw some shade? Chelsea’s bags were all entry-level. The idea she could spot a fake Hermès was laughable. Her face turned red as she stammered, “My mom’s a big fan of Hermès.” “Oh, then it’s your mom who’d know what’s real—not you, right?” Her expression darkened. Seeing her at a loss for words, her friends jumped in to back her up. “If you can afford Hermès, Harper, why haven’t you paid Chelsea back for her watch? It’s been fixed for weeks. Are you hoping she’ll just forget about it?” “Yeah, Harper, don’t be generous with yourself and stingy with others.” Chelsea had never shown me the receipt for that repair. And right then, it all clicked. She wasn’t upset about the watch or looking to be reimbursed. She wanted to humiliate me. Who plays basketball wearing a pricey watch, anyway? She’d set the whole thing up to make me look bad. The thing is, I wasn’t the “broke student” she imagined. I could pay. “What’s the cost, Chelsea? I’ll send it over now,” I said, pulling out my phone. With a smug expression, she tilted her head. “$7431. But I’ll knock off a few bucks—just make it an even $7400.” I wasn’t about to let her act like she was doing me a favor. I intended to pay down to the last penny. But just as I began typing in my password, a hand covered my phone screen. “That won’t be necessary.”

Logan, who’d been busy setting up the projector, was now beside me. “According to the US Civil Code, Section 1176, anyone who participates in an activity with inherent risks isn’t entitled to claim damages for accidents caused by others during that activity,” he said calmly. “Unless there was intent or gross negligence involved, that is.” He continued, “A cracked watch face doesn’t amount to ‘gross negligence,’ and Harper had no intention of causing damage.” His voice was clear, each word sharp and precise. I was floored. This was a solution I’d never considered. Logan had been away at a competition the day of the game—how did he know so much about it? Chelsea hadn’t expected Logan to interject, and despite her nerves, she put up a front. “You weren’t even there! How would you know she didn’t do it on purpose?” she blurted. Logan didn’t so much as flinch. If anything, he looked amused. “Several New Media staff members were at the game, and some of them recorded it on video.” He held up a USB. “I’ve already downloaded the footage. If you’d like, I can play it for everyone.” Chelsea’s face turned ghostly pale. Logan didn’t hold back, adding, “If anyone acted on purpose, it would’ve been you, Chelsea, angling to bump into Harper.” The student council president wasn’t just logical—he was relentless. He finished with one last comment: “Before you try pulling stunts like this, Chelsea, you might want to brush up on the law.” The entire room erupted in whispers. “She really thought Harper would be an easy mark!” “I mean, Chelsea’s got money. Would she really do all this over a few thousand?” “Oh, come on—haven’t you heard? Tyler, Harper’s ex? He’s been hanging around Chelsea non-stop…” That hit the nail on the head. “People are saying that viral post about the world’s stingiest boyfriend? They think it’s Tyler! I mean, who does that? Buying legit gifts for the side chick and scamming his girlfriend with fakes? Guy’s a piece of work.” “I saw Jessie’s video about it too. I couldn’t stop laughing—he really thinks people are that dumb? He probably thought a knock-off would pass as the real deal!” “Those two can just stay together. Please, don’t let them drag anyone else down!” Chelsea’s face turned a dark shade of red. Her glare was cold enough to freeze a room, aimed straight at me like I was her sworn enemy. I simply looked back, unfazed. Finally, she muttered something about feeling unwell and bolted out of the room. Once she’d left, Logan turned to me, smiling faintly. “Doesn’t the air seem a bit fresher now?” I flashed him a thumbs-up.

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At Mr. Green’s 60th birthday party, my husband’s younger sister, who is well over 25, pressed her chest against him. What’s even stranger is that his family acted like it was perfectly normal. I thought I was overreacting… Until my father-in-law got drunk and let a secret slip. My husband, Michael, is what you’d call a “sister’s boy.” I realized this when we were still dating. At the time, Emily had just started her junior year in college and was coming home for summer break. Michael and I drove to the Bus Depot to pick her up. I wore a pair of high heels that were too tight, and halfway there, they rubbed the skin on my heels raw. Every step was agony. Michael held a bouquet of flowers meant for his sister, Emily. I didn’t have the heart to ask him to help me, so I just quietly complained, “Can we slow down? My feet hurt.” Michael patted my head but didn’t slow down. Finally, we saw Emily. She was wheeling a pink suitcase and wearing a short skirt. The second she spotted Michael, she squealed like a happy little bird and ran straight into his arms. Michael didn’t hesitate either—he grabbed her thighs and spun her around a few times, right there in public. My face turned dark immediately. Noticing my reaction, Michael gently put Emily down and reached out to hold my hand. “Emily, this is your sister-in-law. Say hi!” “Hi, sis!” Emily chirped sweetly. A few steps later, Emily started whining that her feet hurt. Michael glanced at me cautiously, while Emily gave me a pitiful look. What could I say in that situation? Michael handed me the flowers, whispered, “You’re amazing, babe,” and then picked Emily up on his back. They walked ahead of me while I limped behind, trying to ignore the pain. That day, the thought of breaking up with him crossed my mind more times than I could count. But in the end, I couldn’t let go of five years of love. Besides, Michael came from a good family, was handsome, and had a stable job. If it weren’t for his obsession with his sister, he was practically perfect. A little later, I agreed to marry him. In our second year of marriage, we had a beautiful son, Andy. After giving birth, my body wasn’t the same, but Michael still loved me like before. Just when I thought life would continue peacefully, everything changed at Mr. Green’s 60th birthday party. The revelation hit me like a bolt of lightning. Before that, Emily had gotten drunk and passed out in Michael’s arms. Her chest was pressed right against his thigh. I shot Michael a look, but he ignored me. Instead, he called a server over for a damp towel and carefully wiped Emily’s face and neck. Emily let out a soft moan and wrapped her arms around Michael’s, clinging to him in the most intimate way. Sensing my discomfort, my mother-in-law, Mrs. Green, casually placed a shrimp in my bowl and said, “They’ve been close like this since they were kids. Don’t let it bother you. Come on, eat up!” I forced a nod, chewing on the shrimp that tasted like nothing. As the drinks flowed, Mr. Green stood up with his glass and announced, “Today isn’t just my birthday. I also have some great news! My daughter, Emily, has been hired by the local TV station! We all know how hard it is to get into the TV station—they only pick the very best!” Everyone clapped and congratulated her. Mr. Green, a bit unsteady, swayed slightly and had to be supported by someone next to him. “Emily may not be our biological child,” he continued, “but in terms of smarts and determination, she’s just like a true Green!” Mrs. Green gave me a strange look and quickly stood up to cut him off. Michael gently pushed Emily off his lap and glanced at me, finally realizing what was happening. Around us, the chatter was a blur. My head was buzzing like a swarm of flies. Before, I could convince myself that their closeness was just due to blood ties. But now? There was no way I could believe that the relationship between Michael and Emily was purely that of a brother and sister. Especially since just the night before, when our son had a 104°F fever from tonsillitis, Michael left him to take Emily home after she got drunk. He didn’t come back all night.

That night, when I heard Andy crying, I rushed barefoot into his room and saw his flushed little face, his voice hoarse. The thermometer read 104°F. I ran back to our room to wake up Michael, but he was sitting on the bed, on the phone. “Alright, stay where you are. I’m on my way,” he said. “Michael, Andy’s got a fever!” I told him. He hesitated. “Julia, could you take him to the hospital first? Emily got drunk, and she needs me to pick her up.” “She has plenty of friends. If worse comes to worst, call your parents.” Michael frowned, “They’re asleep, and she’s a girl, Julia. I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. You go first, I’ll meet you there.” My temples throbbed with frustration, but I bit my tongue. I rushed Andy to the emergency room, where the doctor diagnosed tonsillitis. A single shot and the fever would subside. I finally breathed a sigh of relief. But Andy hadn’t eaten much dinner, and the medication upset his stomach. He vomited suddenly, and I didn’t have anything on hand to catch it, so I used my bare hands to avoid messing up the hospital floor. The pungent smell was overwhelming, and I felt tears well up. Thankfully, a woman nearby handed me a plastic bag. Andy’s little face was red with discomfort, and he held my hand, whispering, “Mommy, I’m sorry.” My heart ached as I replied, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Andy. You were so brave.” I put on a strong face for Andy, but one question from that woman broke me down inside: “Where’s your husband? Why are you here alone?” That night, I sat by Andy’s bedside and didn’t close my eyes for a second. Michael came home at five in the morning, holding my favorite crab-stuffed pastries. He apologized, massaged my feet, brought me water, and begged me to rest. I was exhausted, and seeing how sincere he seemed, I let it go. But that incident left a knot in my heart that never truly untied. It eventually became the spark that led to our divorce. After leaving Mr. Green’s birthday party, I walked straight to the parking lot, with Michael chasing after me, blocking the car door. “Are you seriously leaving during such an important event?” he asked. “Come on, stop being dramatic. Let’s go back.” I jerked my hand away. “Aren’t you going to explain what’s going on with you and Emily?” Michael sighed. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I just didn’t want anyone to misunderstand and have it affect Emily.” I laughed bitterly, “And that’s it? Michael, do you really think I’m that stupid? Do you expect me to believe that what you two have is just sibling love?” His face twisted in disbelief. “Julia, your mind is in the gutter!” Before I could respond, Mrs. Green appeared, hearing our argument, and immediately pointed at me. “You, of all people, should know better. How could you say something like that?” I watched them stand united against me, feeling a coldness settle in my chest. Without another word, I opened the car door. As I got in, I heard Mrs. Green muttering, “What kind of person did you marry? So disrespectful!” I held back the burning anger and drove away. The next day, I packed up my things, took Andy, and went back to my parents’ house. My mom tried to talk me down. “So what if they aren’t blood-related? They didn’t do anything inappropriate. Marriage means you have to turn a blind eye to some things.” “Mom, you know me. I can’t ignore something like this.” My dad slammed down his cup. “There’s never been a divorce in the Davis family. If you go through with this, don’t come back!” I slammed the door, sinking to the floor as the weight of everything hit me. I thought my parents’ home would be my safe haven. Instead, they were on Michael’s side.

During this time, Michael kept calling, but I ignored him. I blocked him on Instagram and every other social platform he might reach me on. Andy would occasionally ask, “Why isn’t Dad with us?” I would swallow my sadness and reply, “Daddy’s working hard. He’ll come see you soon.” Andy would nod, gripping my hand, “Mom, don’t be mad at Dad. I want us all to be happy together.” Tears filled my eyes. Staring at Andy’s innocent face, my resolve to divorce began to waver. That night, I tried to convince myself to move on, but every time I closed my eyes, the memories I couldn’t let go of flooded back— Emily sitting on Michael’s lap, playing video games. Michael using his chopsticks to hand-feed Emily pieces of fish. Emily throwing herself into his arms every time she won a game. And every time they were in the same room, they sat together, laughing and chatting, completely ignoring me. If they could behave like that in front of me, I couldn’t imagine what went on behind closed doors. It wasn’t stubbornness on my part—it was impossible to ignore. A few days later, I was surprised when Michael showed up at my door with Emily to apologize. That morning, I had dropped Andy off at Maple Grove Daycare and swung by Fisherman’s Wharf to pick up a few pounds of clams—my dad’s favorite. He’d been ignoring me for days, and as his daughter, I knew I had to make things right. My dad was a traditional man, strict but with a good heart. He had never once mistreated my mom in all their years of marriage. Even though he said some hurtful things, Mom told me he had privately called Michael and given him a good scolding. When I got home, the house was empty. I had just started soaking the clams when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see Michael, unshaven and haggard, with a sulky Emily standing behind him. “Julia, I brought Emily to apologize.” “I overreacted that day.” “I didn’t realize how uncomfortable our behavior made you. I promise, there’s nothing between us other than sibling love.” Then he pulled Emily forward. She didn’t look happy, but eventually muttered, “I’m sorry, sis. My brother and I have always been close like this. If anything was off, he wouldn’t have married you, right?” She shot Michael a knowing glance as she spoke. This wasn’t an apology—it was a taunt. I smirked, ready to fire back, but Michael’s face darkened. “Emily, if you can’t apologize properly, keep quiet!” “Fine!” Emily’s eyes reddened as she glared at both of us. “I hope you two live happily ever after!” Then she stomped away in her heels. “Aren’t you going to chase after her?” I sneered. Michael shook his head. “She’s spoiled from how we raised her, like a little princess. Don’t let it bother you. I swear, I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.” I softened and packed up my things to return home with Michael. A week later, Andy was overjoyed to see his dad again, clinging to Michael like he would never let go. Watching them together, my heart felt heavy. I had never asked Andy to choose between us, but at that moment, I really wanted to know—if Michael and I divorced, who would he pick? For a long time after that, Michael was more attentive than ever before. He woke up early to buy groceries, canceled every social event, and spent all his time at home with Andy and me. There were even little surprises—flowers, cakes, jewelry. He even remembered my period and had warm tea ready in advance. It felt like we had gone back to our early dating days. I could tell he was trying to make up for his mistakes. Even though the hurt lingered, I decided to bury it for now and give our marriage another try. But everything changed the week my grandmother passed away. I went back to my hometown with my mom for the funeral. There was a virus outbreak in my hometown, and since Andy was still so young, I couldn’t bring him along.

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In my previous life, my stepmother secretly changed my college application, sending me to a low-ranking community college. In my previous life, I sold the copyright of my novel for five million dollars, but my stepsister falsely accused me of plagiarism. In my previous life, my stepsister killed me and inherited my property without consequences. But now, I’ve been reborn, and I’m going to make my stepmother and stepsister pay… I was pushed off the roof by my sister Sophia. It was the 28th floor, and I died instantly. After my death, I became a wandering spirit, unsure where to go. I stood among the crowd, watching my lifeless body within the police cordon, listening to the murmurs around me. “I heard it was the daughter from the sixth floor. She just started college, so young and yet she decided to end it all.” “Which one from the sixth floor? Don’t they have two daughters?” “It’s the older one. I just saw the younger one a moment ago.” Soon after, my mom came down, with Sophia close behind. As soon as my mom arrived, she collapsed on the ground, wailing loudly. Sophia covered her face, sobbing quietly. I walked over, wanting to comfort my mom, to tell her I didn’t commit suicide. But I couldn’t. I was just a spirit now. My mom, Olivia, started crying out, “Emma, why did you do this? What could have been so bad that you couldn’t talk to me about it? Why did you jump? How am I going to explain this to your father?” People around her tried to help her up, consoling her. But as I stood in front of her, I could clearly see that there wasn’t a single tear on her face. I couldn’t bear to watch anymore. I turned and went back upstairs. Looking at the familiar surroundings of our home, I desperately tried to recall my memories of living here, but I couldn’t find a single happy memory. I returned to my room, curled up in the corner. I was dead now, and I didn’t know what would happen to me next. Would the grim reaper come for me? Or would I be reincarnated directly? Or would I just remain like this, a wandering spirit in the human world? The despair of death and the fear of the unknown, coupled with a sense of loneliness, all crashed over me at once. I don’t know how much time passed, but I heard the sound of the front door opening. I went out to see my mom and sister returning. As soon as they entered, Sophia collapsed on the floor. “Mom, I’m scared.” My mom rushed to help her up. “What happened? Don’t be afraid, Sophia. Tell mom, and I’ll help you solve it.” “Mom, I killed someone. I pushed Emma off the roof.” Olivia’s eyes widened in horror. She quickly covered Sophia’s mouth and pulled her into the bedroom. “What happened? Sophia, how could you do such a thing?” Sophia briefly explained what had happened. “I didn’t mean to, Mom. I didn’t mean to kill her. I just wanted to scare her.” “What are we going to do? Will the police come for me?” “Don’t worry, Sophia. Don’t be afraid. As long as I’m here, I won’t let anything happen to you.” “What about Dad? He only has one daughter.” My mind went blank. What did Sophia just say? Dad only has one daughter? How could that be? Then I heard Olivia continue, “When your dad married me, he promised that as long as I treated Emma well, he would treat you like his own daughter.” “All these years, I’ve been pretending in front of your dad, and he’s always been good to you. He won’t suspect you.” “It’s good that little bitch is dead, just like her mother who died early. Now there won’t be anyone in our way anymore, and all her property will be ours.” These words hit me like a thunderbolt. Hearing this, what else was there not to understand? Olivia was not my real mother, and Sophia was not my real sister. No wonder they had always treated me poorly. No wonder Olivia always favored Sophia. No wonder Sophia didn’t share my dad’s surname. Just as I was thinking this, my dad came home. My dad was a long-haul truck driver, usually very busy with work and often not at home. As soon as my dad entered, Olivia went to greet him, putting on an act and starting to cry. “Jack, you’re finally back. What are we going to do? How could Emma think of ending her life like this?” After I had the accident, they had called my dad, and he had rushed back from out of town. He pulled his hand away and walked into my room without a word. I followed him in, watching as my dad locked the door, picked up the doll by my pillow, and sat on the edge of my bed. He just sat there, and soon tears were streaming down his face. He took a photo out of his wallet. I leaned in closer and saw that the woman in the photo looked a lot like me. I knew that must be my birth mother. My dad looked at the photo, repeating over and over, “Xiao Yun, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”

My dad sat in my room all night, and I sat beside him, listening all night. He said so much to the photo. This was the first time I had heard my dad talk so much. He talked about how he met my birth mother, how they fell in love. He talked about how she insisted on giving birth to me despite the doctors’ and everyone else’s objections. He talked about how when I was little, I always pestered him for a mother, which was why he married Olivia. He said I looked a lot like her, talked about how much he missed her, and about how much he had failed me all these years. It was as if all these words were meant for me to hear, answering all my questions. By daybreak, I saw that my dad’s hair had turned noticeably grayer overnight. Suddenly, I lost consciousness, and when I woke up, I was in the afterlife. I heard someone say, “Number 7628, it’s time for your reincarnation.” But I didn’t want to be reincarnated. I didn’t speak, just lowered my head and cried, from silent tears to loud sobs. My crying angered the judge of the afterlife, who punished me by sending me to copy scriptures. Looking at the pen and ink on the table, I chose to compromise. I copied the scriptures day and night, channeling my hatred, sorrow, and resentment, along with my curses for Olivia and Sophia, into the energy I poured into the scriptures. I don’t know how long I copied for, until my strength was exhausted and my spirit began to dissipate… I heard someone calling my name. I fought against the drowsiness and struggled to open my eyes. Suddenly, I was startled. Where was I? Wasn’t I copying scriptures? How did I end up in my room? I sat up abruptly, looking around. I gradually realized that I had been reborn. I picked up my phone and turned on the screen. I had actually gone back to a year ago. I quickly got out of bed, wanting to open the door, but found it locked. I remembered now. Today was the day I was supposed to submit my college applications. In my previous life, the door suddenly wouldn’t open, so Olivia and Sophia went to school to submit my applications for me. They had deliberately locked me in the house, then took the application forms I had filled out in advance and went to school to submit them for me. What I didn’t expect was that they had actually changed my applications. In the end, with scores that could have gotten me into a top university, I ended up at the same third-rate college as my sister. I still remember in my previous life, when I got my acceptance letter, I asked Olivia why this college had admitted me. “Oh, how did this happen? I must have mixed up the application forms and used your sister’s by mistake. Mom didn’t mean to, you won’t blame mom, right?” In my previous life, I was so naive that I comforted myself, making excuses for her in my mind. Now I realize how stupid I was back then. In my previous life, it wasn’t until just before I died that I learned from Sophia’s own mouth that Olivia and Sophia had deliberately changed my applications. This time, knowing everything, I absolutely won’t fall into the same trap again. Outside the door, Olivia was calling my name. “Emma, why won’t this door open? We need to go to school soon to submit your applications.” I played along, pretending to be very anxious. “I don’t know either, the door just suddenly won’t open. What should we do?” “How about this, Emma, give me your application forms, and I’ll go submit them for you.” “Okay, I guess that’s the only way. Please make sure you don’t fill them out wrong.” “Don’t worry, your sister will be there to help too.”

After they left, I went back to bed to catch up on sleep. There were three days for submitting applications, and it wasn’t necessary to go to school to do it. But obviously, Olivia and Sophia didn’t know this, otherwise they wouldn’t have let me out the next day in my previous life to go work at my uncle’s supermarket. I have an uncle who owns a supermarket. He and his family have always been good to me. His name is Mike, and I guess he must be my real uncle. Since I was little, Olivia often sent me to stay with Uncle Mike. Later, when I started middle school, I would help out at Uncle Mike’s supermarket every weekend. But Uncle Mike never really made me do any work. Usually, I just did my homework there and tutored his daughter, Chloe. It wasn’t until one time when I discovered that Olivia had been asking Uncle Mike for my wages that I had an argument with her about it. That was also the first time I had ever argued with Olivia. I confronted her, asking why she was asking Uncle Mike for money. When it came to money, she didn’t even bother to pretend anymore. “You’re working at your uncle’s place, what’s wrong with me asking for some money?” “But Uncle Mike never made me do any work. They even give me pocket money.” Olivia acted like it was perfectly normal. “I sent you there to work. If he doesn’t make you work, that’s his business, but your wages should come to me, every cent of it.” I was heartbroken by her words. “What about Sophia? Why do you never send her to work at Uncle Mike’s?” Seeing that I was getting emotional, she started to explain in a conciliatory tone. “Your sister isn’t in good health, she can’t do heavy work. Besides, Sophia isn’t as good at studying as you are, she needs to take extra classes, so she doesn’t have time to go.” In my previous life, I always thought it was because Sophia was more likable, which was why mom favored her. I tried hard to make mom approve of me. Now I realize how ridiculous I was back then. … The door to my room wasn’t opened until the next day. During this time, I hadn’t eaten a single meal. Early the next morning, I went to Uncle Mike’s without even eating breakfast. As a result, I fainted at Uncle Mike’s doorstep due to low blood sugar. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was the worried expressions on Uncle Mike and Aunt Linda’s faces. Suddenly, a wave of emotion washed over me, and tears started streaming down my face. Seeing me cry, they both panicked, not knowing what to do. “What’s wrong, Emma? Where does it hurt? Tell Aunt Linda.” She reached out to feel my forehead. “Does your head hurt?” I held onto Aunt Linda’s hand. “Uncle Mike, Aunt Linda, don’t worry. I’m not feeling unwell. I just missed you both.” I told them that I knew Olivia was my stepmother, and also told them about how badly my stepmother had treated me all these years. When I was very young, Olivia started making me wash clothes and cook. Whenever my dad wasn’t home, I was basically responsible for all the housework. Even in the cold winter, she wouldn’t let me use hot water to wash clothes or dishes. I had asked before why I had to do all these things while Sophia didn’t have to do anything. Olivia always brushed me off with excuses like “the older sister should look after the younger sister.” After hearing this, Uncle Mike was so angry he wanted to confront Olivia and Sophia right away, but Aunt Linda and I stopped him. Then they revealed the truth to me. “Your mother’s name was Lily. She and your dad were very much in love.” “When your mom was pregnant with you, she was diagnosed with a tumor. The doctors advised her to terminate the pregnancy, but your mom insisted on giving birth to you. Shortly after you were born, she passed away.” “Later, it was your dad who asked us to keep this from you. He said he hoped you could grow up healthy and happy like other children. Who would have thought Olivia would turn out to be such a cruel person.” After learning all this, I told them about the college application issue. “Uncle Mike, I need your help with something urgent now. I’ll deal with Olivia’s matters myself later.” I asked Uncle Mike to bring his computer, and I started filling out my college applications. When Uncle Mike saw the schools Olivia had applied to for me, he was both furious and filled with self-blame. After changing my applications, I also bought a few hidden cameras online, planning to place them around the house. So, under the guise of a part-time job, I stayed at Uncle Mike’s house. During this time, I went home twice to get clothes. This summer vacation was the happiest I had experienced in many years. At Uncle Mike’s house, I didn’t have to do any chores. I only needed to tutor Chloe a bit. Chloe was in her junior year of high school, and her studies were quite good, so tutoring her was particularly easy. Uncle Mike even bought me a computer so I could continue writing my novel.

I have a hobby of writing novels, which also earns me some pocket money. In my previous life, my novel caught the attention of a film production company during my freshman year of college. They bought the copyright to my novel. It suddenly gave me a windfall of five million dollars, and it was precisely this money that ultimately led to my demise. When I received this money, I excitedly told Olivia about it. However, when Sophia found out, she started accusing me of plagiarism, spreading rumors around the school that she had written the novel. At that time, I didn’t know how to explain. Although I could provide evidence, I kept quiet out of consideration for Sophia being my sister. Until that day at home, I asked Sophia to meet me on the rooftop to clear up the misunderstanding, but Sophia’s attitude was very poor. As we talked, an argument broke out, and in the end, she accidentally pushed me off. Although Sophia didn’t intentionally push me in my previous life, I won’t let her off easily this time. … That day, when the admission results were posted on various school websites, Olivia surprisingly called me, asking which school I had been admitted to. To avoid raising suspicion, I pretended to be sad and told her that I had been admitted to the same school as Sophia. I even thoughtfully provided an excuse for Olivia, “Did you perhaps mix up the application forms when you were filling them out?” After I said this, there was a two-second pause on the other end. Then, pretending as if she had just realized, Olivia said regretfully, “Oh no, I must have filled it out wrong by mistake.” “Well, there’s no way to change it now. We’ll just have to accept it. Don’t blame yourself, I don’t hold it against you.” After hanging up the phone, I checked the surveillance cameras at home and saw this conversation: Sophia asked eagerly, “Mom, how did it go? Which school did that little bitch get into?” “Little bitch” – that’s what Olivia and Sophia called me in private. Olivia burst out laughing, “That idiot actually thinks I made a mistake filling out her application. She even said she doesn’t blame me. It’s hilarious how stupid she is.” “She got into the same school as you. If I had known she’d be this easy to fool, I would have just put down a community college for that little bitch.” The mother and daughter laughed happily, using every vile word they could think of to curse me. I closed the video, saved the recording, and continued writing my novel. The acceptance letters were sent to the school. My letter arrived a few days before Sophia’s, so they didn’t find out. The day I got my acceptance letter, Uncle Mike’s family took me out to celebrate. Uncle Mike even allowed me to have some alcohol. Maybe it was because of the alcohol, but I became emotional and felt like crying again. I felt that this time, I had finally gotten into the university I wanted. I asked Uncle Mike to take me to my mom’s grave. Looking at the smiling woman in the photo on the tombstone, she seemed as gentle as a spring breeze and as warm as the sun. I imagined my mom must have been a very gentle person. She must have loved me very much. If she were still alive, I would surely be the happiest child in the world. I placed flowers in front of the grave. “Mom, it’s been a long time. I’ve come to see you. I’m sorry I forgot about you all these years and called someone else ‘mom’ for over a decade.” “Uncle Mike says you were a wonderful person. You were so good, you surely won’t be angry with me, right?” I wiped the tears from my face and took out my acceptance letter. “Mom, I got into a really good university. I wish you were still here. I heard my school is very big and beautiful. I really wish I could take you and dad to see it.” “Dad and I both misjudged people before, but we won’t anymore. I promise I’ll live a good life from now on. I won’t let your sacrifice in giving birth to me be in vain.”

Summer vacation ended quickly. My university was in Beijing, while Sophia’s low-ranking college was in our hometown. Our school started earlier, so I packed up and went to register at the university early. When Sophia sent me a message asking when I was leaving, I was already lying on my bed in the dorm at A University. I ignored her message and continued chatting with my roommates. All four people in the dorm were easy to get along with. I thought about my roommates from my previous life – they smoked, drank, fought, cheated on exams, loved to gossip behind others’ backs, and created eight group chats for six people, never inviting me to any of them. Back then, I thought I couldn’t fit into that dorm because of me. Now I understand that circle wasn’t suitable for me. We were just different types of people. Sophia sent me many messages, but I didn’t reply to any of them. Half an hour later, Olivia called. I went to the balcony to answer the call. Her tone had barely contained irritation. “Emma, where are you? Why aren’t you replying to your sister’s messages?” “I was just chatting with my roommates and didn’t notice.” “Roommates? Which building is your dorm in? Your dad is here too. Come out, let’s have a family dinner together.” “You know, your dad was originally planning to send you two together. Your sister wanted to come to school with you. Why did you leave without a word and have your uncle send you instead?” As she spoke more and more enthusiastically, I interrupted her, “I’m in Beijing. I can’t have dinner with you.” There was a pause on the other end, then disbelief, “Beijing? Why are you in Beijing? Are you not going to school?” “No, I’m not. Uncle Mike found me a job in Beijing. Room and board provided, 3,500 a month.” That evening, I received a call from my dad. He sounded upset. “Emma, is it true what your mom said about you not going to university?” I knew my dad would definitely call to ask about this, so I had prepared what to say in advance. “Dad, it’s not that I’m not going to school. But what I’m about to tell you, I hope you can keep it a secret and not tell anyone.” “Then what’s the real reason? Tell me, I promise I’ll keep it secret.” “On the day of submitting applications, mom went to help me fill them out. The next day when I logged into the system to check, I found out mom had accidentally filled in Sophia’s choices for me.” “Luckily I changed it back in time. Mom feels very guilty about this, so I want to give her a surprise. Please don’t tell her or Sophia for now.” I sent my dad my acceptance letter and photos of me with Uncle Mike’s family at the school gate. This finally convinced him. “Alright, I’ve neglected you kids a lot these past few years because of work. It’s thanks to your mom that she’s been taking care of the family all this time.” “I’ll do as you say and keep it a secret. Beijing is expensive, so I’ll give you more money each month from now on.” I felt that my dad still had some suspicions about Olivia. All these years, he had kept control of the family finances. My dad transferred our living expenses and tuition directly to Sophia and me, so Olivia never had a chance to interfere with that. But she took all the money I earned working at Uncle Mike’s to buy things for Sophia. For this summer’s wages, I still had Uncle Mike give it all to Olivia, and when transferring the money, he noted “Emma’s wages.” Olivia used this money to buy Sophia a new phone. I saw all of this in the surveillance videos. The reason I didn’t tell my dad the truth was that I wanted to gather more evidence. I wanted to make sure Olivia and Sophia had no chance of turning things around. And right now, the most important thing for me was to live my own life well. After military training ended, I began my busy college life. My roommates and I joined the student union together. We actively participated in various competitions at school, studied hard, and I still kept up with writing my novel every day. Because I had written the novel in my previous life, it was going very smoothly this time. I even improved the plot. So my monthly income was more than before. Everything seemed to be telling me that my life was heading in a good direction… I followed the confession wall of Sophia’s school. Sophia was very pretty, with an innocent look. So there were often people confessing to her on the wall. She was also very good at presenting herself as peaceful and aloof in front of others, so she was popular with the opposite sex. In my previous life, she was already famous at school, and it was the same in this life. But I knew some of her little secrets, which I had discovered by chance in my previous life.

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I was caressing a male model’s hand at the bar when I turned around and saw Ethan Shaw. Ethan Shaw, the sugar daddy who had kept me for five years. But we had broken up just yesterday. I had packed my bags and disappeared from his world without a fuss. And now he was frantically searching for me. I was caressing a male model’s hand at the bar when I turned around and saw Ethan Shaw. Ethan Shaw, the sugar daddy who had kept me for five years. But we had broken up just yesterday. I had packed my bags and disappeared from his world without a fuss. And now he was frantically searching for me. Today marked the fifth anniversary of my relationship with Ethan Shaw. I had meticulously prepared a candlelit dinner at home, and as usual, he brought me a gift when he returned. But this year was different – inside the carefully wrapped box was a ring. When I saw the ring, my heart skipped a beat, and unrealistic expectations quietly arose in my heart. However, he didn’t seem to have anything to say about it. So I obediently put the ring back in the box without asking any questions. Later that night, after we were intimate, he whispered in my ear, “Lily, I’m getting married.” He was getting married. From the day I got together with him, I knew this day would come eventually. The last time he was on the phone with his father in the bathroom, urging him to meet Miss Sullivan, I wasn’t actually asleep. But even though I knew the outcome, it still hurt when it actually happened. I turned away from him and secretly wiped my tears with my fingers. He held me tighter. “Lily, can you stay with me?” I couldn’t. We had agreed long ago that I would leave when he was to get married. This was the bottom line. Over the years, even in the deepest moments of our relationship, I had never wavered from this decision. “Ethan, I’ll pack my things tomorrow.” Ethan seemed surprised by my determination. He turned me towards him. “Lily Ross, you can’t leave me.” I reached out and touched his face, thinking about how I would never be able to touch his handsome features again, which made me sad. “Can you not get married then?” He didn’t answer, but it was already an answer for me. I hugged him. “We agreed on this long ago.” He still disagreed, arguing until the end. Finally, he asked me, “Lily, how will you live without me?” I sighed. “Ethan, I’m not the 22-year-old me anymore.” The year I met Ethan, I was exactly 22 years old. I had just graduated from film school and was tricked into signing a “slave contract” with an unscrupulous company. Every day, I had to flirt in live streaming rooms, and after the streams, I was arranged to accompany wealthy clients for dinner. That day was my birthday. After harvesting a wave of fans in the live streaming room, I was dragged by the company to accompany a client for dinner. At the dinner table, a fat old man put his hand on my thigh. I couldn’t stand it anymore and smashed a plate before running away, then hid on the street crying my eyes out. The high heels I had kicked off happened to land on the passenger seat of Ethan’s convertible sports car parked by the road. Before I could go pick up my high heels, the people the company sent to find me appeared behind me. With nowhere else to go, I got into Ethan’s car, and he drove me away from the scene. On the way, I cursed everyone from the company boss to the big shots in the live streaming room to the security guard at the company building while in Ethan’s car. I vented my frustration both verbally and physically. In the end, I fell asleep in Ethan’s passenger seat. When I woke up, Ethan was playing with his phone in the driver’s seat. My alcohol had worn off a bit, and I thought I shouldn’t just freeload in his car. So, I took a deep breath and mustered up the courage: “Um… how about I transfer some money to you?” Ethan was stunned for a moment, then opened his phone and held it out to me. I saw that the page displayed “Add as friend”.

I thought for a moment, maybe he didn’t want me to transfer money directly. So I added him as a friend and transferred all the $57.20 left in my account to him. I saw his brow furrow again. I was actually embarrassed too. It really wasn’t enough to give him just $57.20 after he had driven me around in his fancy sports car for so long. I opened my balance to show him: “But, I really don’t have any more money.” As soon as I started explaining why I was so poor, I felt overwhelmed with grievance again, and cursed out the company boss once more. I don’t know if it was because he was impressed by my eloquence, or if he just wanted to do a good deed. Ethan offered to help me resolve my contract issues that day, and then suggested I follow him. I have to admit, Ethan really did have a handsome face, and even the cramped driver’s seat couldn’t hide his long legs. I’m not stupid. This deal was so good that I only asked him one question: “Do you have a girlfriend?” “No.” So I agreed to his proposal. From then on, I stayed by Ethan’s side for five years. During those five years, Ethan treated me very well and was very generous. I also obediently played the role of his “kept woman” by his side, without fighting or competing. Until he told me the news that he was getting married. After he left for work, I called a moving company and packed up all my things. Finally, I put all the credit cards he had given me on the table. Then I called my best friend Olivia and went to a bar. I felt like I had become a bit of a frog in a well after staying by Ethan’s side for so many years. Olivia also said I needed to see the wider world, so we ordered eight male models. We paid with my card. Olivia got drunk and laughed like an idiot in my ear. “Lily, look at their legs, their waists, their abs, and their hands. Lily, feel how soft their hands are!” I touched one. The next second I looked up and saw Ethan’s angry face. My first instinct was to run away. But the drunk Olivia grabbed me back, then pointed at Ethan: “Oh, Lily, this one is handsome too.” She started tugging at Ethan’s clothes, trying to feel his abs. Fortunately, I was quick enough to cover the corner of Ethan’s shirt that had been lifted. Then I quickly stopped the reckless Olivia, but she said generously: “Fine, you’re treating today, so I’ll let you have this one!” Ethan looked at me, his face even more displeased: “I didn’t realize you were so rich.” “Of course! Her sugar daddy just died, so now she has plenty of money.” Me: ?? Olivia, you’ve really said too much today! Besides, what I said was to just pretend my sugar daddy had died! Pretend! Not that he actually died! Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to explain to Ethan. Ethan simply picked me up by the waist, and before leaving I made sure to grab Olivia too – that’s what I call being loyal to my friends. When the three of us were squeezed into the back seat of Ethan’s luxury car, the atmosphere in the car suddenly dropped by several degrees. Ethan sat on my right with an ashen face. Olivia looked at Ethan with a flushed face, leaning across me: “He really is handsome, but Lily, didn’t you say you were going to bring three male models home tonight?” “I didn’t say that!” “You said…” Before Olivia could finish, I covered her mouth and stuffed the words back into her stomach. Ethan snorted coldly: “I didn’t realize you played around so much.”

I kept telling myself that Ethan and I were no longer together, so I shouldn’t feel guilty. Besides, “I’ve held back for so many years, can’t I indulge a little?” “Exactly!” Olivia said righteously, “You don’t know about her previous sugar daddy… he wasn’t…” As soon as the words “wasn’t good” came out, Ethan’s face became even more unpleasant. Then Ethan turned to the side and gripped my chin with his large hand: “Lily Ross, you’re saying I’m not good? Hm?” When he said this, because he was so close, I could clearly see the veins bulging on his neck, and even feel his rapid breathing. If Olivia hadn’t been there, I really couldn’t guarantee what he might have done. I was too choked up to respond. Olivia leaned in at the right moment and stared at Ethan’s face: “Come to think of it, you do look a bit like her sugar daddy. Don’t tell me you’re not good either?” Oh my god. Please say less. I quickly stopped Olivia. Then I smiled apologetically at Ethan: “Don’t mind her, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.” Fortunately, Olivia seemed to have tired herself out. After I covered her mouth again, she fell asleep soon after. The temperature in the car dropped even further after that commotion. I glanced at Ethan through the rearview mirror. His expression was very unpleasant. Probably sensing my gaze on him, Ethan said irritably, “It seems that all these years with me have been quite a hardship for you.” I didn’t respond. After all, he was the one who taught me that saying too much only leads to more mistakes. Seeing my silence, he suddenly turned to me: “Lily Ross! I say this, and you don’t even deny it? Do you really think being with me all these years has been such a hardship?” Me? That’s really not the case at all. “Olivia was just talking nonsense, don’t take her seriously.” Actually, it was when Olivia asked me what Ethan was like in bed that I got too embarrassed and brushed her off saying he was just okay. Thankfully, we finally arrived at Olivia’s apartment complex. I was staying with her temporarily since I had moved out so suddenly. I thanked Ethan, but found that he was following behind Olivia and me after we got out of the car. I didn’t quite understand: “Mr. Shaw, is there something else?” Ethan snorted coldly: “Mr. Shaw? We were sleeping in the same bed yesterday, and today I’m Mr. Shaw?” His voice was a bit loud, drawing stares from people around the complex. Afraid of angering him further and causing a scene, I could only keep quiet and let him follow behind Olivia and me. When we got to Olivia’s place, I settled Olivia into bed. When I came out to the living room, Ethan was on the balcony making a phone call. From his tone, it didn’t sound good. He seemed to be dealing with some thorny issue. Seeing me come out, he hung up the phone and reached for my hand: “Let’s go, Lily. Come home with me.” His tone was so casual, as if yesterday’s events had never happened. But I easily shook him off: “Ethan Shaw, wake up. There’s no relationship between us anymore.” When I said we had no relationship, his eyes suddenly turned red. Then he came closer, his right hand cupping the back of my head, and showered me with small kisses without warning. He only let go when I was about to run out of breath. Then his burning hand wrapped around my waist, his fingertips caressing the small of my back: “Lily Ross, do you want to do it here or go home?”

I pushed him away forcefully: “Ethan Shaw, I’ll say it again, we have no relationship anymore! If you keep this up, I’m calling the police!” “Call the police?” He laughed self-mockingly, then slammed the door as he left. A lot had happened today, and I was a bit tired as I collapsed onto the sofa. Just as I lay down, the doorbell rang again. I opened the door. Ethan was still standing outside: “Lily Ross, I’m asking you one more time, are you coming home with me or not?” I was speechless at his shamelessness, and slammed the door shut with a “bang”. Along with it, I shut out Ethan’s words: “Lily Ross, you’ll regret this.” The next day, Olivia, who had blacked out, had forgotten everything that happened last night. In the end, I was the only one left embarrassed. Early in the morning, Olivia started complaining about her hangover headache from drinking too much last night. I had just made her some lemon water when I received a call saying Ethan was going to shut down “Encounter”. “Encounter” was a coffee shop. When Ethan and I first got together, he was worried I’d be bored waiting for him at home all day, so he opened a coffee shop for me on the street where we first met. In the past two years, I had put a lot of effort into that shop, and “Encounter” was doing quite well. When he warned me not to regret it yesterday, I had actually thought of this possibility. When I arrived at the coffee shop, Ethan was already there. A row of employees with solemn faces stood in front of him. Seeing me, Ethan unconsciously straightened his back even more. The employees started expressing their reluctance to leave to me. Ethan coughed: “Lily Ross, with just one word from you, ‘Encounter’ doesn’t have to close.” Ethan, on the surface, seemed like a formidable figure in the business world, but behind the scenes he was just like a child. Always thinking he could force me to compromise with these tactics. But he had underestimated me. Moreover, business tactics were never suitable for matters of the heart. I ignored Ethan. Then I took out a stack of red envelopes from my bag and distributed them to everyone: “I know ‘Encounter’ is everyone’s hard work, and I really enjoyed working with all of you. But life often doesn’t go as planned. Don’t worry, besides the compensation you should receive, this is just a little extra from me.” Ethan’s face darkened even more: “Lily Ross!” He always liked to call my full name when he was angry. That hadn’t changed all these years. I sighed: “Mr. Shaw, stop with your childish behavior.” He got up and left, passing by me, but not without warning: “Lily Ross, let’s see how long you can last without me.” I didn’t know how long I could last. The best years of my life had been trapped in the cage Ethan wove for me. Now that I had flown out, I really needed to think about where to go. All these years by Ethan’s side, although he was generous to me – sending me jewelry and bags until my hands were full, letting me use his credit cards freely – when I left, I didn’t take any of those things with me. The only thing I took with me was the meager profits from “Encounter” over the past few years. So even the apartment I found was a smaller one-bedroom next to Olivia’s. On moving day, Ethan’s driver Jack came by. His excuse was pretty lame: “Mr. Shaw said he can’t find one of his ties, and was wondering if it might have gotten mixed in with your clothes when you left.”

In front of him, I patiently went through my luggage but couldn’t find the blue tie he mentioned. Jack looked at a message on his phone and smacked his forehead: “Oh, Mr. Shaw says he found it. Seems it had fallen into a gap somewhere.” I wordlessly gestured for him to leave. Before leaving, Jack asked again: “Miss Ross, I see this apartment is really small. Why don’t you talk to Mr. Shaw and go back?” The sound of the door slamming shut was my answer. After tidying up the few things in the room, the doorbell rang again. I thought it was Jack coming back and was about to lose my temper when I saw Olivia carrying a big pot. “Quick, Lily, you must not have had time to eat after being so busy. I just made a pot of rice.” “You didn’t go to work today?” “I took the afternoon off. I figured with all your stuff, you’d be busy until who knows when if I didn’t come help you unpack.” In all the years I was with Ethan, I had basically lost touch with all my old friends. Only Olivia had stuck by me the whole time. I smiled and thanked her. Then I ate a big bowl of rice while listening to her curse out Ethan. Actually, I had already made plans for my future work. Before, I was constrained by Ethan, but now that I had left him, I had no more concerns. In college, my second major was fashion design, so I thought I could do design and pattern-making during the day, and then sell my creations through live streaming at night. Once the volume got big enough, I could find manufacturers to cooperate with. At first, the live streams were quiet with only a few passersby and the persistent Olivia. Two weeks later, the live room finally started to gain some popularity. However, since it was a night stream, there would occasionally be a few creepy men saying some explicit things in the chat. Whenever this happened, Olivia would furiously fight back from behind the screen. Until one day, I saw a striking username “Ethan Shaw” among those helping to fight back. I frowned. This guy really didn’t know how to use a nickname when registering an account. But Olivia was merciless. Seeing Ethan come in, she got even more fired up, and the two of them started arguing like elementary school kids in the live room. The comment section became quite chaotic, and I had to end the night’s stream early. Then, as soon as I went offline, I received a call from Ethan. “Lily Ross, if you need money just say so. Even if you won’t come back, you don’t need to go back to doing that.” Before I could answer, Olivia beside me jumped up: “Doing what? What’s wrong with selling clothes? Only someone like you with a dirty mind would see everything as dirty!” With that, she hung up on Ethan. Ever since Olivia found out Ethan and I had split up and he had sold “Encounter”, she never had a good word to say about him again. However, I couldn’t help but tell Olivia: “Actually Olivia, I never told you, but Ethan has shares in the company you’re working for now.” “…” The next second, Olivia dialed Ethan’s number: “Mr. Shaw, I was too rash earlier. Please don’t take offense. Rest assured, I’ll definitely try my best to persuade Lily to go back to you.” I frowned: “Olivia, how can you be so two-faced?” “It’s all for survival. But don’t worry, I’m just appeasing him. You’re my only true love.” Of course I believed Olivia. I had just underestimated Ethan’s possessiveness towards me. That night before bed, I received a transfer of $500,000 from him to my account. Along with a message: “Lily, stop messing around and come back soon.” He still thought I was just throwing a tantrum.

I transferred the money he gave me right back to him. He was jumping up and down on the other end of the phone: “Lily Ross, are you tired of the good life and just want to suffer?” I didn’t think my current life was suffering, but I didn’t bother explaining that to him. There was no need to explain. All these years, it seemed like besides giving me money, he had never tried to understand me. Recently, orders from the live streams had increased a bit, and I was finally able to catch my breath a little. Until I received a call from the hospital. My aunt had fallen and injured her leg and been taken to the hospital. After my parents divorced and both went abroad, I lived with my aunt for my three years of high school. So my aunt was actually my only relative in the country. Her children weren’t local, so when she was injured, the hospital called me. But I didn’t expect to run into Zachary Quinn at the hospital. Zachary Quinn was my high school classmate. We were both on the school debate team and had interacted quite a few times. However, we really got to know each other after an internal debate competition where I made his teammate cry. His teammate wailed that I was so fierce I’d never be able to get married. Thinking about this incident, Zachary and I couldn’t help but laugh. But then Zachary changed the subject: “So, are you married now?” I was surprised by his question, then shook my head. He smiled brightly beside me: “Actually, after the college entrance exam, I went to look for you before going abroad, but your neighbor said you had moved. Later, when I came back to the country, I asked our classmates about you, but they all said you had lost touch after college graduation.” I didn’t have that many friends in high school to begin with, and after going to film school, my path diverged from everyone else’s. Then after getting together with Ethan, I stopped contacting people even more. Thinking of Ethan, I couldn’t help but sigh. Zachary bought a bottle of water from a nearby vending machine and handed it to me: “What’s wrong? Have things been okay these past years?” Pretty good. “I was lost for a while, but fortunately I’ve found myself again now.” “That’s good.” Then we both fell silent, sitting on the long bench for a long time. I was contemplating the past years of my life. I don’t know what he was thinking about. Until a nurse called him to see a patient, he finally left. Before leaving, he remembered to add me on SnapChat, then asked: “Do you have time for dinner tonight?” I was still pondering excuses to refuse when he had already started answering himself: “I’m about to get off work. I’ll come find you in a bit.” He had helped with my aunt’s hospitalization, so I figured treating him to a meal was only right. During dinner, Zachary talked about many interesting stories from high school. Actually, a lot of what he said was a bit fuzzy in my memory. But he was telling the stories with such enthusiasm, so I just smiled and listened, occasionally chiming in when I remembered something. In the end, he suddenly asked me: “Am I boring you by talking so much?” I shook my head. Of course not. “That’s good. I’ve been holding onto some things for a long time, so when I saw you, I just wanted to tell you everything all at once.” I could hear the joy in his tone, but I couldn’t say much in response. After dinner, he offered to drive me home. Zachary’s car had just stopped at the entrance of my apartment complex when we saw Ethan leaning against his eye-catching red sports car in front of my building. Seeing Zachary, Ethan became hostile. He came up to me and asked: “Lily Ross! Who is he?” Zachary extended his hand politely to greet Ethan: “I’m Zachary Quinn, Lily’s friend.” Zachary deliberately emphasized the word “friend” a bit. But Ethan’s attention was on the “Lily” part: “Lily? Lily? What, are you two very close?” I couldn’t stand Ethan’s sarcastic tone and was about to tell him to mind his own business. But Zachary stepped in front of me: “We’re quite close, after all we’ve known each other for over ten years. What about you? Who are you to Lily?” “I’m her…”

Ethan “her”-ed for a while but couldn’t say anything. You see, after being together for so many years, he couldn’t even introduce our relationship when it came down to it. I couldn’t bear to watch anymore and interjected: “He used to be my boss, but now our contract has ended, so we don’t have any relationship anymore.” Ethan’s face looked even worse after hearing me say this. I’ve really had a long day and was tired, so I said goodbye to Zachary and went upstairs. Leaving Ethan alone in a daze by his red sports car. Half an hour later, my doorbell rang again. I didn’t even need to think to know it must be Ethan: “Do you have any other business?” Ethan outside the door had an ashen face: “Lily Ross! Is this how you talk to me now?” I really don’t know what kind of attitude I should have towards him. I made a motion to close the door: “If you don’t like it, I’d rather not talk at all.” Ethan put his foot in the door: “Lily Ross, you’ve only been away from me for a few days and you’ve already found someone new, haven’t you?” I couldn’t be bothered to reason with him, so I just nodded: “Yes! I’ve been planning this for a long time, just waiting for you to break up with me. Do you have any other questions?” Ethan probably didn’t expect me to be so direct with him. He opened and closed his mouth, then shook his head: “Impossible, I don’t believe it. This guy must be someone you hired to deliberately make me jealous, right? Right, Lily Ross?” Me? I never knew Ethan had so much drama in his mind before. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him so I tried to close the door again. He put his arm against the door and looked down at me: “Lily, I know, you’re doing all this just to make me jealous, you just want me to be nervous, right? Alright then, I admit you’ve achieved your goal. I really can’t bear to be without you. Will you come back? If you come back, I won’t hold these past few days against you, okay?” Me? Just like that, he won’t hold it against me! I motioned for Ethan to come closer. He leaned his ear in, and I whispered close to his ear: “Fuck off.” Then I closed the door, shutting out Ethan’s voice along with it. To be honest, in the five years I was with Ethan, I was always accommodating him, so he hasn’t thrown as many tantrums in five years combined as he has recently. Business at the live streaming studio has been getting better, not just a little. I couldn’t handle it all myself anymore, so I took out my savings and opened a workshop. These past few days have been quite busy with work, and I still need to make time to visit my aunt, so I’ve been a bit overwhelmed. Fortunately, Zachary has been helping to look after things at the hospital, and my cousin paid for a caregiver for my aunt, which has finally allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief. But when I saw Zachary at the entrance of my apartment complex, I was still a bit surprised: “You’re… looking for me?” Zachary smiled easily: “No, I live here too.” Then I watched with my own eyes as Zachary entered the elevator with me, then walked into the apartment across from mine. I only then confirmed what he said. Olivia, who had just come out to see what the commotion was about, looked surprised: “Was that… Zachary Quinn just now?” I nodded: “Yep, it’s him.” Olivia clapped her little hands and shook her head: “Well, things are about to get lively.” However, although Zachary moved in next door, we didn’t run into each other often since I was leaving early and returning late. The new workshop was running very smoothly, so I started thinking about expanding the scale. The most urgent matter was to contact factories to discuss cooperation. After being busy for several days, I finally managed to find a suitable supplier to cooperate with. It was already very late after finishing dinner with the manufacturer. As soon as I walked out, I ran into Ethan at the hotel entrance. After not seeing each other for several days. The first thing out of his mouth was still the same old tune.

“So, Lily, have you thought about coming back to me?” Seriously, when did I ever consider this matter? “Ethan Shaw, I’ve always thought you weren’t an indecisive person, so can you stop wasting time on me? I’m not going back to you.” Ethan sighed: “Alright then, Lily. I’ll give you a few more days to think about it.” “Thanks, but there’s no need.” “Lily Ross!” “Ethan Shaw, haven’t I made myself clear enough?” But Ethan seemed completely unable to hear what I was saying. He turned and patted the passenger seat of his car: “Come on, it’s late. I’ll drive you home.” I was about to refuse when Zachary’s car happened to pull up next to us. Seeing me, he waved enthusiastically: “Lily? What a coincidence.” All three of us meeting here, it really was quite a coincidence. Seeing Ethan, Zachary still greeted him politely. Ethan’s face was as sour as if someone owed him money. The contrast in their demeanors was stark at this moment. Zachary asked me a few simple questions about why I was here, then invited me: “It’s so late, Lily. Let me drive you home.” Although I didn’t really want to get too involved with Zachary right now either. But compared to Ethan, I’d rather get in Zachary’s car at this moment. As Zachary opened the passenger door of his car for me, Ethan suddenly slammed his steering wheel behind me, then called out my name: “Lily Ross! Don’t you dare go with him!” I’ve never been a timid person. Besides, there’s nothing I don’t dare do now. I didn’t bother responding to Ethan, and just got into Zachary’s car. On the way, Ethan called me but I hung up. His SnapChat messages had long been blocked. Zachary smiled a little at my actions. I didn’t quite understand: “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, just feeling very happy.” I opened my mouth, wanting to explain to Zachary about my relationship with Ethan, but after organizing my thoughts for a long time, I still couldn’t bring myself to speak. Zachary didn’t seem to intend to ask me either. When I got home, Olivia was already waiting for me in the living room. As soon as she saw me, she jumped up from my sofa: “Girl, you’re finally back.” “What’s wrong?” She pointed at her phone. In the chat window with Ethan, there was a string of 60-second voice messages. He had never been a talkative person before, and had even complained to me about people who send 60-second voice messages all at once. Now looking at these dense messages, it was clear he was really angry. Olivia wailed in front of me: “Lily Ross, tell me what exactly you did to him today. You don’t know how angry he was just now. If you didn’t come back soon, I was afraid he would storm our apartment complex and tear the roof off.” Then she threw her phone to me: “I still don’t have the courage to listen to these unread messages. You listen to them yourself.” I opened them and listened one by one. The ones towards the end were basically all addressed to me, with the general message being: He’s angry. I’m in trouble. I nonchalantly returned the phone to Olivia: “It’s fine, he’s just throwing a tantrum like a kid. Don’t worry about him.” But Olivia was still very curious about how I had angered Ethan to this extent. I told Olivia everything that happened today in detail. Olivia munched on her chips loudly: “No wonder he exploded. But Lily, they say even warring countries don’t kill envoys. Ethan won’t take it out on me, will he?” That shouldn’t happen. I patiently reassured Olivia. After all, he probably still needs Olivia to gather information for him. Besides, targeting Olivia would be meaningless for him. But what I didn’t expect was that Ethan would actually make a move against me.

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My husband had a sister who, while not biological, might as well have been. He gave her the Public Relations Officer position I had worked so hard to earn, just because she couldn’t handle the struggles of the Rural Community Development Program. When I was lying in a hospital bed after my miscarriage, he was busy taking care of his sister, who’d just had her appendix removed. And when I finally got into Yale, he handed that spot to her as well, saying, “Claire needs this more.” She took everything I worked for and still had the nerve to push me into the street, where I was hit by a car. I died angry, filled with regret for my own weakness. Given a second chance, I immediately filed for divorce. But my ever-cold husband refused. I blinked my eyes open, the stark white ceiling overhead coming into view. A dull ache tugged at my lower abdomen. Where was I? Wasn’t I hit by a car? The sensation of being thrown by the impact, the searing pain as I hit the ground—those memories felt like they’d happened just a second ago. “Emily, you’ve just had a miscarriage. You need to rest!” A woman’s voice, gentle and concerned, reached my ears. I turned my head. It was a young nurse. A miscarriage? I’ve been reborn. In my previous life, I’d spent two grueling months preparing for the Steelworks Factory entrance exam. I thought I had it in the bag, but when the final list of hires came out, my name was missing. I was devastated for days, but I tried to rationalize it—competition was fair, and there were always people better than you. Then, I overheard some gossip: “Andrew Carson is so impartial. He even gave away his own wife’s position to someone else.” “Right? The Public Relations office hardly hires anyone. They only took two people this time, and Claire Carson was third in line—just missed the cut.” “Andrew said his wife volunteered to give it up, so Claire could take the spot.” A woman nearby scoffed, spitting a sunflower seed shell on the ground. “He didn’t want Claire dealing with the rough conditions of the Rural Program. Claire’s living the good life while Emily Shaw doesn’t even know what hit her. Poor Emily—her husband’s never on her side.” The words hit me like a thunderbolt. I drifted home like a ghost, grocery bag in hand, my mind filled with the joy I’d felt when I thought I’d passed, the buried rage, and the unbearable bitterness of being replaced. I had passed the exam, but Andrew had taken it upon himself to make me “volunteer” my spot for Claire. Who the hell did Andrew think he was? How dare he play the hero with my opportunity without even consulting me? Did he know it was wrong, and that’s why he didn’t even ask? Just because he was my husband didn’t give him the right to make decisions for me. I dropped the groceries in the kitchen and stormed out to confront Claire. Andrew was still at work, but Claire would be home. “Emily, what a surprise! What brings you by?” Claire greeted me when she opened the door. I didn’t say a word. I just stared at her. She was nineteen, full of youthful energy, her big doe eyes practically begging for sympathy. The kind of girl most men would trip over themselves to protect, eager to give her anything she wanted. Andrew was clearly one of those men. “Did Andrew give you the Public Relations Officer position?” I asked, cutting right to the point. For a brief moment, panic flickered across Claire’s face, but she quickly smothered it. Rubbing her fingers nervously, she forced an awkward smile. “Emily, what are you talking about? I earned that spot myself.” She glanced around nervously before grabbing my hand. “Why don’t we talk inside? It’s not convenient standing out here.” Inside? Yeah, right. Claire was clearly guilty.

I yanked my hand from her grip, my expression cold and mocking. “You earned it? Claire, you barely scraped by in high school. You’ve spent the last few years partying, doing nothing productive. You really expect anyone to believe you earned that spot? You could ask the stray dogs on the street, and they wouldn’t believe you.” Seeing that I wasn’t about to back down, Claire’s eyes welled up with tears, her lip trembling in a picture of pure innocence. “They’ve been encouraging young, unemployed people like me to join the Rural Program. I just complained about it to Andrew, and he thought of a way to help me,” she explained pitifully. “I’ve heard farm work is dirty and exhausting. My parents always pampered me—how could I handle that? Besides, if I went away, my mom would be all alone. I just couldn’t leave her.” She looked at me, pleading. “Emily, please, let me have this chance. You’re so talented. You’ll easily pass the next Steelworks Factory entrance exam!” Sure, I passed the exam through hard work, but that didn’t mean Claire had the right to steal the fruits of my labor! I scoffed. “How can you justify taking what I’ve worked for? I’m going to get justice for myself. Let’s go—right now. We’ll go to the Company Board of Directors. Andrew doesn’t get to make all the decisions at that factory.” I grabbed Claire by the wrist and started dragging her down the stairs. Panicking, she struggled to break free. “I’m not going! Andrew promised the job to me, and that’s final. I won’t go to the countryside—I won’t!” Driven by her fear of the Rural Program, Claire yanked her arm out of my grip with all her strength. I lost my balance, tumbling down the stairs. A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, followed by a warm, wet sensation. Before I passed out, I caught a glimpse of Claire’s expression. Her panic had given way to smug satisfaction. And then I woke up, alive again. I placed a hand over my stomach. I’m sorry, little one. I couldn’t protect you in this second chance either. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure justice is served for you. The nurse mistook my silence for grief, thinking I was still mourning the loss of my child. She sighed softly and tried to comfort me. “Don’t be too upset. You’ll have more chances to have children. For now, focus on recovering.” Tears slipped down my cheeks, soaking the pillow. I wiped them away and forced a smile. “Thank you, nurse.” She efficiently replaced the IV and continued. “It’s my job. But where’s your husband? He should be here with you after something like this.” Andrew was probably with his beloved sister, Claire, right now. I’d never been able to compete with her for his attention. I offered a bitter smile, making an excuse to save face. “He’s busy with work. I’m sure he’ll come when he has time.” The nurse shook her head disapprovingly. “A baby takes two to make. How could his work be more important than your health? Honestly, some men…” Knowing better than to delve too deeply into someone else’s personal matters, she trailed off and checked her watch. “I’m on the night shift tonight. Call me if you need anything.” I nodded gratefully. “Thank you, nurse.” The next morning, after I’d finished breakfast, there was a knock at the door. It was my husband, Andrew Carson. With his sharp features and lean frame, he looked every bit the handsome, stoic man I’d married. But as he sat down by my bed, his brow furrowed in mild annoyance. “How could you be so careless? How did you not know you were pregnant?”

This was my husband. I had just suffered a miscarriage and was in the hospital. He showed up late, and the first thing he did was scold me. “My periods are always irregular. I didn’t know I was pregnant,” I said, looking at him with a mix of frustration and pain. “And why are you questioning me? Claire pushed me down the stairs—if you want to blame someone, blame her!” Andrew rubbed his temples, the dark circles under his eyes giving away the fact that he hadn’t slept well, likely because he had been up all night caring for Claire. “Claire is still just a kid. She told me it was an accident. Besides, if you hadn’t dragged her to the Company Board of Directors to argue, she wouldn’t have lost her balance and accidentally pushed you down the stairs.” A nineteen-year-old kid? Was he serious? It was laughable. Andrew Carson always had an excuse for Claire. “So, what you’re saying is, I deserved to lose the baby? That it’s my fault for not throwing a bone to the rabid dog so it wouldn’t bite me?” I snapped, feeling the anger rise. Without thinking, I grabbed the ceramic cup on the bedside table and threw it at him. Andrew dodged it, and the cup shattered against the floor. Calmly, he bent down, picked up the pieces, and placed them back on the table, his expression stern, as though he were dealing with a child having a tantrum. “Emily, I’m upset about the baby too, but I’ve already given the Public Relations position to Claire. Let’s just put this matter to rest and move on. Don’t make this messier than it needs to be.” “I made a promise to Jon—I swore I’d take care of Claire as if she were my own sister. I can’t just stand by and watch her suffer in the Rural Program. Letting her stay at the Steelworks Factory was the best option.” Jon, Jon, Jon—everything came back to Jonathan Carson, his best friend from childhood. Andrew had stayed behind in Pittsburgh, working his way up to factory manager, thanks to both his skills and his family’s connections. Meanwhile, Jon had joined the army, choosing to serve his country. Four years ago, Jon had died on a mission, leaving behind a letter asking Andrew to look after his mother and sister. Andrew had been heartbroken by his best friend’s death and had taken Jon’s request seriously. With Jon gone, he was constantly worrying about Claire and her mom, always there for them. In the two years we’d been married, I’d heard him use Jon’s name as an excuse to favor Claire more times than I could count. It was a familiar refrain in my ears by now. I hadn’t minded when it was just a little extra cash, some grocery coupons, or even gifts he bought for them. Those were Andrew’s things—he could give them to whoever he wanted. I didn’t care. But the Public Relations Officer job was mine. I earned it, and he had no right to take it from me. Move on? Was Andrew afraid the whole factory would find out he used his position to pull strings for Claire? I let out a bitter laugh, tears stinging my eyes. Andrew had fulfilled his promise to Jon, taking care of his sister and making sure she didn’t have to suffer in the Rural Program. Claire got a cushy job at the factory, all thanks to him. And what about me? My hard-earned position had been stolen, and I had lost my baby. Now, my husband was telling me to just drop it, to stop making things difficult. Anger and sadness twisted inside me, leaving my mind blank. My tongue felt tied, and I couldn’t find the words to respond. Seeing my silence, Andrew pressed on. “I know this is unfair to you, but I promise, this is the only time I’ll do this. It won’t happen again.” He sounded sincere, each word filled with emotion. In my last life, when Andrew had begged for my forgiveness in that soft voice, I’d believed him. I’d been naive. Back then, I had grown up in a small town, where they’d sent a few of the city’s volunteers to work. Those city folks couldn’t handle the farm work—half of them couldn’t even carry their own weight. The women had it even worse, constantly complaining about the long days in the sun and the hard labor. I had felt sorry for Claire then, a young girl being sent to the rural areas, working the land. Andrew had convinced me to let it go, and I had agreed to drop the issue. When Claire found out I wasn’t going to fight anymore, she had come to my house, full of gratitude. “Emily, I can’t thank you enough! Don’t worry, I’ll work hard and make you proud in that job!” She had clenched her fist and pumped it in the air, like she was making some sort of dramatic pledge. The room had been filled with laughter and good spirits. At the time, I had thought, “It’s just this once.” But, as it turned out, a wolf in sheep’s clothing is still a wolf. What happened next completely blindsided me.

Later, Claire came flaunting my college acceptance letter right in my face. “Emily, I can’t thank you enough! First, you got me the Steelworks Factory job, so I wouldn’t have to go to the Rural Program. And now, with the reinstatement of the college entrance exams, you went ahead and got me into Yale! What a sister-in-law you are!” “I just told Andrew that I’d never be able to get married without a college degree, and without hesitation, he let me take your spot.” She laughed—a cruel, mocking sound that burned in my ears. “You fool! You were always meant to pave the way for me. Andrew doesn’t even care about you! You miscarried after I pushed you down the stairs, and I faked a stomachache to get my appendix removed. Andrew stayed by my side all night!” “Face it, Emily, you should’ve stayed in that little town of yours. Stop trying to take what belongs to me. Once I finish college, you’ll be old news, and Andrew will realize that we’re the ones who truly belong together!” Her words sent a wave of fury crashing over me. In my past life, this had been the moment I lost control. Betrayed, humiliated, I had dragged Claire to the education board to demand my spot at Yale. But as we crossed the street, she pushed me into oncoming traffic. That was how my miserable, short life had ended. Looking back, I could see it clearly: “Villains walk with ease, while the righteous are laid low.” Once you compromise your principles, others will exploit every inch you give them. I had been too kind for my own good in my past life. But this time, things would be different. This time, I would take back what was mine. As for Andrew’s promises? They meant nothing to me now. I could barely tolerate hearing him speak. After my miscarriage, he had chosen to comfort Claire after her surgery. Andrew wasn’t fit to be a husband, though he certainly excelled at playing the role of the doting brother. He could go ahead and be the best brother in the world. It didn’t matter to me anymore. I had lived twice, and I was done being disappointed in Andrew Carson. Without bothering to argue further, I lay back in the hospital bed, pulling the covers up around me. “Fine, I understand. Now, please leave.” Andrew stood there for a moment, as if uncertain, but then leaned down to tuck the covers around me, his face filled with guilt. “You know, working in Public Relations isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s exhausting, always writing reports and handling press. Being the wife of the factory manager is much more relaxed. People would kill to be in your shoes.” Andrew always had this self-important air, acting like he was doing me a favor, like I owed him something. Still lying on my side, I rolled my eyes. The more he talked, the more I just wanted him to leave. It was as annoying as the barking of a dog. “Get out!” I spat, finally letting loose. It was the first time in both my lives that I’d spoken to Andrew that way, and it felt so satisfying. That man didn’t deserve my patience. Silence followed for a moment. Then I heard him sigh heavily before his footsteps retreated out the door. I assumed he was off to care for his precious sister again. Outside, the sun shone brightly, a soft breeze rustling the leaves on the trees. This time, I would live for myself. I spent a week recovering in the hospital before the doctors sent me home with instructions to take it easy for a while. As luck would have it, Claire was also being discharged that same day. So, naturally, Andrew was busy running around handling her paperwork while I managed to check myself out, alone. Slowly, I made my way back to the Worker’s Apartments. When I reached the building, I saw a familiar figure standing at the entrance. Her hair was neatly styled, and she wore a clean, tidy outfit. At her feet were several large bags and two bound chickens. “Mom?” She turned around, eyes full of worry. She hurried over to me, putting her arms around me for support. “When you called yesterday, I made your father pack everything up, and we took the first bus to get here,” she said, gently poking my forehead, her tone both scolding and loving. “How could you be so bold? You went through something this serious, and you didn’t tell us until yesterday? If you’d called sooner, I could have come to take care of you!”

In my previous life, after my miscarriage, I didn’t want my family to worry, so I didn’t tell my parents a single word about what had happened. If I didn’t say anything, Andrew certainly wouldn’t, so my parents thought my marriage was just fine. When I died in that car accident, my parents would have lost their daughter, their hearts heavy with grief. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how devastated they would be. Tears filled my eyes, and I quickly wiped them away, forcing a light smile. “I called to let you and Dad know; I just took a little longer. Please don’t be angry, Mom.” My mom placed the items she brought on the table and sat down on the couch. “Raising a child is a lifetime of worry, especially after something like this. I brought two chickens for dinner; I’ll cook one for you tonight. You need to eat well and take care of yourself!” These days, there were regulations on how many chickens each household could keep, and we only had one left. The saying that a child with a caring mother is worth a fortune couldn’t be truer. I wrapped my arms around my mom and rested my head on her shoulder. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.” She smiled, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t think you can just get away with being coddled. You didn’t explain things clearly yesterday on the phone. Now you need to tell me honestly how my grandbaby ended up this way.” I fell silent for a moment. I knew this marriage was bound to end. Instead of hiding the truth and letting my parents worry, it was better to lay everything out on the table. So I shared the whole story of my miscarriage, including Andrew’s blatant favoritism towards Claire. After hearing everything, my mom was furious, launching into a tirade against Claire and Andrew. “That little brat, Claire Carson! Stealing your job, pushing you down the stairs, and now she has the nerve to come here! How shameless can she be?” “And Andrew isn’t any better. He always favors outsiders. I never approved of you marrying him. Who took your grandfather’s matchmaking seriously? But you liked him, so your dad and I kept quiet. But now look at the life you’re living!” Years ago, Andrew’s grandfather was injured in a war and fell off a cliff; my grandfather saved him. To repay that favor, they arranged for us to marry. Three years ago, when Andrew’s grandfather fell ill, he wanted to see his only grandson settled down and remembered the old promise. Andrew was charming and had an air of sophistication about him, so I quickly fell for him. My parents were worried about me moving to the city, fearing I’d be taken advantage of. But both grandfathers pushed for the marriage, and I insisted on going through with it. My parents prepared a nice dowry, happily sending me off. Little did I know, the marriage I had anticipated would end up like this. Andrew was my husband but also Claire’s brother. His favoritism toward her far outweighed what he gave me. Once unfaithful, always untrustworthy. I had already paid the ultimate price in my past life. Seeing my mom so worked up, I gently patted her back to calm her down. “Mom, please don’t be angry. It’s not worth getting upset over someone like that.” “And I want to divorce Andrew.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294932”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #魔幻Magic #擦边Steamy #浪漫Romance #励志Inspiring #重生Reborn #校园School

Standing in front of the County Clerk’s Office, I called Ethan Yates. After three ignored calls, he finally replied with a single word: “Busy.” Not even a period. He forgot today was the day we were supposed to get our marriage license. I glanced at the long line in front of me and smiled, finishing my iced coffee. I wasn’t going to be as foolish as last time. Does he really think I don’t know he’s on a date? This was the second time Ethan stood me up. Last time, he didn’t pick up his phone, and I waited in line for a solid three hours. Just when it was about my turn, a young girl behind me whispered to her fiancé, loud enough for me to hear. “Can someone get a marriage license by themselves? If I’d known, I would’ve stayed home and slept. It’s so hot out here!” I didn’t hear the guy’s reply. My heart sank, and I turned and walked away. Later, Ethan’s excuse was that his aunt was sick and he had to take her to St. Andrew’s Medical Center. He even made a call on the spot to prove it. Ha, like that would fool me. I didn’t throw a tantrum; I just locked myself in the bathroom and cried like a fool. If you’re going to lie, at least come up with a better excuse. He wouldn’t let me visit his aunt, couldn’t even describe her condition… Did he forget I’m a doctor? What he didn’t know was that the girl he was on that date with posted about it on social media. And guess what? That girl is my colleague. Ridiculous, isn’t it? One minute, he’s telling me we’re going to get married, and the next, he’s out having steak and wine with another woman. That night, when I got out of the shower, the living room lights were still on. Ethan was asleep in the rocking chair, cradling Rocky. And my heart ached, hard. Rocky is the dog we raised together. He’s seven now. Ethan gave him to me as a sign of our love. I didn’t confront him that night. I’m not sure if it was because I still loved him, or if I was just too stubborn to let go. When I came home after my night shift, the TV was still on, but Ethan was in the dark bedroom on the phone. His tone was irritated, “No way. Last time it was because of Aunt Susan. You’re not convincing me again…” “Mom, I haven’t broken up with Megan Summers yet.” “You can set it up, but I’m not going… You might like her, but I don’t.” Rocky made a sound, and the call ended abruptly. I pretended like nothing had happened. In my heart, I tried to tell myself he had no choice. I gave him another chance. I gave us another chance, after seven years. This time, he had picked the date to get our license. And again, here I was, left waiting. There’s a saying: fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I wasn’t going to let there be a third time. Because he didn’t deserve my forgiveness. I didn’t go home. Instead, I went straight to the hospital. I had swapped shifts with Ryan Jacobs for today. “Sue, I thought you had something to take care of?” I gave him a small smile and handed him the coffee I just bought. “Plans got canceled last minute. You should go home and spend time with Crystal. We haven’t all been able to catch up lately.” Ryan’s girlfriend, Crystal Young, is my best friend. “Can’t. She’s covering a shift for the new nurse.” The new nurse? That was Tiffany Jones—the girl Ethan went on a date with. Ethan had stood me up, and Tiffany swapped shifts… I pulled out my phone and scrolled. Sure enough, Tiffany had posted on social media—a photo of a dinner table, with steak, red wine, and a massive bouquet of long-stemmed roses. And beside them, half of a phone. I recognized it instantly—it was Ethan’s. There was a tiny diamond sticker I had put on the corner, now catching the candlelight in a soft glow. How long had it been since he last gave me flowers? Oh, right. The last time was when I won a writing contest last year. The prize was $2,000. He bought me a small bouquet of baby’s breath. “Megan, flowers don’t last. They wither in a few days, so I got you something affordable,” he had said, standing in front of me with the Tag Heuer Watch I had just bought him on his wrist. I smiled, holding my cheap bouquet, and took Ethan out for seafood—his favorite. Now, here he was, giving someone else those impractical, expensive roses. Turns out, whether something is “practical” depends on whether it’s “worth it.” I’d always heard from friends that long-term relationships can fade. Without the passion of new love or the commitment of marriage, things rarely end well. So when he proposed, I said yes. There was no thought-out proposal, no ring, no fireworks, and no witnesses. We sat on the couch, discussing it as casually as what we’d have for dinner the next day. He called it maturity—stability. Looking back, maybe that wasn’t the natural progression of love. Maybe it was just settling. He didn’t have any better options. But when did he change? Because I know he loved me once.

My story with Ethan Yates is a pretty common one. After high school, he got his acceptance letter and asked me out. I was so excited my cheeks were burning red. I liked him. He liked me. We made it through four years of long-distance, staying strong the whole time. After graduation, he moved to my city. I was in medical school, and he started working a year before me. Back then, we rented the top floor of an old, run-down building. Summers were unbearably hot, and winters were freezing. When it rained, the water would drum against the roof all night long, but I could still sleep soundly next to him. He would cover my ears during thunderstorms. He’d wait for me downstairs after my night shifts, even if it was raining, even if it was snowing. One time, his mom got sick, and we sent all our money to help her. Winter was right around the corner, and we couldn’t even afford the electric bill. The heated blanket didn’t work, and he looked so worried, standing there with a kettle, filling hot water bottles to keep me warm. “I’m sorry. This is all because of me,” he said with his back to me. I could see his reddened eyes through the mirror, and my heart felt full and warm. With a man like that, I wasn’t afraid of hard times. And he was so driven. He was supposed to be on a six-month probation at work, but he became permanent after just two. There wasn’t any trick to it. His supervisor liked that he was reliable and hardworking. He did sales, wrote proposals—he was willing to learn anything. When he got his first paycheck, he bought me a bracelet. He held it in his hands like a treasure, and when we locked eyes, we were both so happy. But… it’s been a long time since he bought me a gift. Last year on my birthday, he had to work late. He didn’t even get me anything. On Valentine’s Day, he spent $3 on a streaming service to watch a movie. I had ordered steak, but he canceled it and got fried chicken and burgers instead. I gave him gifts for every holiday, but he accepted them as if they were his due. Sometimes I’d pout and complain, and he’d always say, “We need to save for a house. That’s what’s important.” The house slowly became an obsession for him. He believed owning a house was the only way to truly settle down. I don’t know when it happened, but that constant worry about money slowly chipped away at the simple happiness we used to have. And eventually… our love just faded. “Dr. Summers, someone’s here to see you.” Ethan stood at the reception desk, wearing a long gray wool coat, his head lowered. Even with a mask on, I recognized him right away. I used to joke that I’d been fooled by his looks, but there was some truth in that joke. He was good-looking. Especially when he smiled—his eyes sparkled. I took a deep breath and walked over to him. “Have you eaten yet?” That was the first thing he asked. “I have.” He avoided my eyes. “Your hospital is pretty big.” He had never come to visit me since I transferred to this new job. Too busy. Too far. “Yeah, uh, I had a meeting come up last minute, so I couldn’t make it… Did you wait long?” He finally brought it up. “It’s fine. I just called to let you know I had a surgery today, so I couldn’t come either.” He let out a sigh of relief, his gaze finally landing on my face. He looked much more relaxed. “That’s good. I was worried you’d been waiting a long time. I tried calling you this afternoon, but you didn’t answer or text me back.” “I was in the operating room.” We stood there in silence for three minutes. He finally spoke. “Well, I should get going then.” The moment he finished speaking, I turned and walked away. We both knew we weren’t going to bring up when we’d get our marriage license again. In the past, if we’d missed a movie or a dinner, he would have immediately suggested another time to make it up. When I got back to my office, I saw that I had 11 missed calls. One was from my dad. The rest were from Ethan. My dad knows my job. If I don’t answer, he’ll usually leave a message. But Ethan was just feeling guilty. I called my dad back. I was feeling guilty, too. “Megan, did you take the family record book without asking? Are you two getting a marriage license? Did you tell Ethan about the family situation?”

“I’m telling you, getting married is a big deal. You need to think it over carefully. It’s not too late to back out.” “Let’s not even talk about Ethan for a second. What about his mom’s attitude? Do you really think you can get along with her?” After ten minutes of his well-meaning advice… My dad sighed. “Megan, promise me you’ll take some more time to think about it.” Tears fell into my takeout box. “Dad, what are you thinking? I just lost my ID, so I needed the family record book to get it replaced.” Even over the phone, I could hear my dad’s sigh of relief. He wasn’t wrong, though. I had hesitated before, because of Ethan’s mom. Ethan’s mom isn’t an easy person to deal with. We’ve only met twice. Ethan’s dad passed away when he was young, and his mom raised him alone. She worked multiple jobs just to get by. When he finally graduated college and got a job, Ethan became her greatest source of pride. The first time I met her was about a year after I started working. Ethan invited me to dinner at his mom’s place. On the way, his mom called, fussing over him. Not a single word for me. Just before hanging up, he said, “Mom, Megan’s got a sore throat. Can you avoid using any hot spices in the cooking tonight?” When we arrived, she ignored the gifts I’d brought, rushing over to brush the snow off her son’s coat. Ethan tried to calm her down and then introduced us. If her barely-there smile wasn’t a big enough hint, the food on the table definitely made things clear. The entire spread was fiery red with spice. I just smiled quietly and bowed my head. Ethan squeezed my hand under the table, his face showing his frustration. “Mom, didn’t I ask you not to make spicy food today? Didn’t you hear me?” He was obviously trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. “I heard you. But you love spicy food! You’ve been away so long, and I just wanted you to have something you like.” “You can’t put spice in every single dish!” “How was I supposed to know which one you wanted most?” There was no arguing with that. Ethan pulled me up from my seat. “We’re going out to eat.” That’s when the tears started. “Oh, I see how it is! You get a girlfriend, and you forget all about your mother. After everything I’ve done for you all these years… when you were little, your mother…” In the end, I left by myself. I told Ethan, “You should stay with your mom. I’m heading home.” Ethan wanted to come with me, but his mother clung to him and wouldn’t let go. That’s when I really started having doubts. But every time his mom called to cause a fuss, Ethan would handle it efficiently. He’d stroke my hair and say, “Megan, my mom’s had a hard life. But don’t worry, I won’t let you suffer.” Back then, I believed him. I naively thought, I’m marrying him, and as long as he treats me well, that’s all that matters. And eventually, his mom and I started getting along a little better. One day, his mom asked me, “Is it okay if you two get married without owning a house?” That was the one time her tone didn’t have a hint of arrogance in it. “Yes, it’s fine. Ethan and I can buy a house together later,” I said honestly. She nodded, clearly satisfied. Then she turned and praised her son, “I’m not just saying this, but my Ethan has it all—looks, brains, and a great job. You’re lucky to marry him.” From then on, her attitude toward me improved. She even started sending me my favorite pomegranates whenever she sent Ethan a box of oranges. But thinking back now, last month’s box of oranges didn’t have any pomegranates. That must have been around the time she started setting Ethan up on dates again. After my shift, it was early morning. I ate a bowl of pork congee at a cafe near Cedar Grove Estate. I didn’t bring any food home for later like I usually did. I figured I wouldn’t need to anymore. Ethan was asleep on the couch, the ashtray full of cigarette butts. He doesn’t smoke much, usually just a pack every two weeks. Rocky jumped onto my lap, and I sat down on the edge of the couch. Ethan woke up. He saw it was me, then rolled over, “You just got off?” I stroked Rocky’s fur. He was starting to show signs of age. “Ethan, we’ve been together for seven years. Let’s end it on good terms. At least tell me why?” His eyes, which had just closed, snapped open. After a moment, he asked, “What do you mean?” “Your family’s been setting you up on dates. You’re sitting there, having your cake and eating it too. Doesn’t that make you feel a little guilty?” My tone was calm, but his face had gone completely pale. He rubbed his neck and sat up. “How… how do you know?” “That’s not the point.” “My family wants me to find someone who can help me buy a house.”

I… I never thought that would be his reason. “Megan, you know how expensive houses are around here. The price per square foot is insane. There’s no way we could ever afford one on our own…” I took a deep breath and stared into his eyes. “So what?” “Megan, we’re adults. We’ve all had to deal with hardship. I come from nothing. It wasn’t easy to get where I am today. My family home would sell for, at most, $300,000. And even though you’ve always said we don’t need a house to get married, I just want my partner to contribute financially. I know your parents work hard on the farm, and buying a house means renovations too… I can’t even bear to think about it. It just feels hopeless.” He rubbed his forehead, clearly stressed. I laughed bitterly. “So, Ethan, you’re just planning to find a rich wife and solve your problems in one go?” He looked insulted. “Megan, don’t make it sound so awful. My family just wants what’s best for me. And it’s not like I agreed to go through with it.” I threw my phone at him, showing him a screenshot. “You already bought her roses. Guess your charm worked.” I turned and locked myself in the bedroom. Ethan kept banging on the door, “Megan, open the door. Don’t do anything stupid. I’m telling you, without me, you could definitely find someone better. We’re just making each other miserable…” A few moments later, I opened the door and shoved a silver suitcase into his hands. “This is the stuff I paid for in this rented apartment. Now get out.” I pushed him out. Just as I was about to shut the door, he wedged his hands between it. “At least let me gather my things?” I had planned for a clean breakup, but he clearly had no shame. “Ethan, other than what’s in this suitcase, everything else was paid for by me. You want to settle up? Fine by me.” He let go as soon as I said that. “Is there really a need to be this precise?” I slammed the door shut with a loud bang. “You’re holding a suitcase full of things I bought for you. I thought the color suited you.”

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