I was Cole’s doomed first love. But the moment he looped back in time, his very first instinct was to abandon me. He went straight to my stand-in to confess his feelings. The boy who once cried with red-rimmed eyes, swearing I was the love of his life, now stood in front of a rolling camera. He looked deeply into the eyes of the girl who replaced me and made a solemn vow. “Loving you is my business, and it has absolutely nothing to do with anyone else.” Later, on the day I accepted the confession from the untouchable genius of our college. Cole lost his mind and completely shattered the wine glass in his bare hand. People said that night, Cole completely lost it. 1 When I accidentally plummeted from the stage, the entire crew rushed over in a panic. Only Cole walked away, his back turned to the chaos. I rarely had the chance to see Cole walk away from me. In the past, he really did love me. So it was always me who turned around first. Fighting through the bone-piercing agony, I grabbed the wrist of a stagehand just before I blacked out. “Please. Book me a full-body scan.” According to the original plotline, I was supposed to die of stomach cancer in exactly one year. Then, I would become Cole’s tragic, unattainable first love. But the script had changed. Seeing the resolute yet guilty look in Cole’s eyes before he left, I knew I wasn’t the only one who remembered the past timeline. It was obvious who he was rushing off to find. The male lead had been reborn. He finally realized who his true love was and was desperate to find his substitute girl to prove his devotion. Their messy, passionate romance no longer needed a dying first love to serve as a stepping stone. But those chemotherapy sessions hurt. They hurt so much. And I really, really didn’t want to die again. 2 I was unconscious for an entire day. The doctor said my body was perfectly healthy. Nothing but a bit of mild gastritis. My calf was wrapped in a heavy plaster cast. It was clunky, but lying in that pristine white hospital bed, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. During the days I spent resting with my leg elevated, plenty of classmates and friends dropped by with fruit and flowers. Cole never showed up once. Actually, in my previous life, I also fell off the stage during that same rehearsal. The difference was, the old Cole stayed by my hospital bed for three days and three nights without sleeping. He loved me so much back then. I remember him staring at my cast, trying to suppress his furious panic, his lips pressed tight as his eyes grew bloodshot. That was probably when he loved me the most. I returned to campus a week later, hobbling on crutches. Completely by accident, I stumbled right into a grand, highly publicized confession. Under the blinding spotlight, Cole handed a massive bouquet of baby’s breath to the girl who had just delivered a flawless performance. It was Lily’s favorite flower. The substitute. The live-stream cameras for the welcome gala were still rolling. Because of my accident days prior, the performance I had prepared was handed over to Lily. It felt like a universal rule. Whatever was mine would eventually belong to her. Cole stood in front of the massive crowd. Under the glittering lights, his eyes shimmered with unshed tears. I saw restraint in his gaze, mixed with the burning intensity of a man who had reclaimed his lost treasure. He looked at her and made his vow. “Loving you is my business, and it has absolutely nothing to do with anyone else.” I stared at Cole, feeling a bit numb. My mind drifted back to the year I was critically ill. The boy who was notoriously wild and untamable had cried until his eyes were swollen. He lay his head on the edge of my bed, choking on his sobs, begging me not to leave him. With trembling hands, he had carefully slipped a diamond ring onto my finger. Unfortunately, the disease took my life shortly after. I never got to give him an answer. The grand confession pushed the gala’s atmosphere to a fever pitch. Lily flushed a deep red. With a shy, breathtaking smile, she accepted the baby’s breath from Cole’s hands. They looked like a match made in heaven. Perfect. Destined. Then Blake vaulted onto the stage. He snatched the white flowers right out of Lily’s hands, his knuckles popping from how hard he gripped the stems. He smashed the bouquet at Cole’s feet. White petals exploded across the stage floor. “Is this how you treat Audrey?” Cole froze. He instinctively turned his head, his eyes scanning the crowd until they locked onto me standing on the outskirts. But his gaze darted away just as fast. The boy who once loved me to his very core lowered his eyelashes and took a firm, protective step in front of Lily. It was the ultimate defensive posture. Once a toxic male lead finally wakes up and realizes who he truly loves, he will never let his new leading lady suffer even a fraction of an ounce of disrespect. Not getting an answer, Blake swung a brutal punch right at Cole’s jaw. The romantic, cinematic confession instantly devolved into a messy brawl. Standing far away from the chaos, my fingers brushed against the crescent moon bracelet on my wrist. It was a birthday gift from Cole. He had put so much effort into it back then. A boy who hated sitting still actually spent an entire month designing it just for me. When he clasped it around my wrist, he pretended to be fierce, ordering me never to take it off. He told me it was one of a kind. A symbol of his exclusive devotion to me. But I was never his leading lady. I was just the doomed first love, a mere plot device meant to push his relationship with Lily forward. What isn’t mine will never belong to me. I decided I needed to find a time to give the bracelet back. 3 I have seen what Cole looks like when he truly loves someone. It happened in the timeline after my death. He didn’t know my soul was trapped by his side. He didn’t know I was forced to watch how the story unfolded. At first, he spiraled into a dark depression. Then, he became obsessed with collecting things that reminded him of me, finding a string of girls who shared my features. He had a lot of stand-ins. But Lily was the one who looked the least like me. She stayed by his side the longest. She was his ultimate female lead. It happened in the third year after my death. Cole finally snapped out of his delusion and realized he had fallen deeply in love with Lily. Their intense, dramatic romance left no room for anyone else. The so-called “first love” was just a tool to trigger their jealousy and push them closer together. When Blake found out Cole had caught real feelings for the substitute, he was furious and threw a punch. He demanded to know, “Is this how you treat Audrey?” Cole and Lily’s wedding reception was completely ruined by the sudden brawl. My ghost floated helplessly beside them. I wanted to break up the fight, but my hands passed through everything. I wanted to tell them to stop. I wanted to say Cole didn’t owe me anything. The only thing Cole might have felt guilty about was the time he got jumped in an alley, and I took a knife to the back for him. The cut was so deep it hit the bone, leaving a massive, ugly scar across my spine. Later, when I was diagnosed with terminal illness, Cole went absolutely insane trying to find a way to save me. He cried by my bed, swearing he would only ever love me. That he would only ever marry me. I had never seen him cry with such devastating despair. But promises are just words. They were never meant to be taken seriously. I snapped out of my memories. The two guys wrestling on the stage were finally pulled apart by the crowd. Cole had managed to land a solid punch right next to Blake’s ear. His eyes were completely dark, his voice a lethal warning. “Stop acting like a psycho.” In the last timeline, after Blake ruined the wedding, Cole used his family’s money to bankrupt Blake, eventually driving him to take his own life. Blake was only doing this for me. There was no way I could just stand by and watch. I hobbled over on my crutches, looking straight at a pale, trembling Lily. “Don’t misunderstand,” I told her seriously. “There is absolutely nothing going on between Cole and me.” Plotline aside, our connection should have been severed completely a long time ago. Hearing this, Blake wiped his mouth, stood up, and shot Cole a freezing glare. He carefully supported my weight and walked me out of the auditorium, step by step. Before I left the building, I unclasped the bracelet. It held the warmth of my skin, but as the cool night air hit it, it quickly grew cold. I thought about it for a second, then tossed it directly into a nearby trash can. I deliberately didn’t mention the bracelet in front of Lily. I knew Cole wouldn’t give her something I had already worn. He always gave Lily the very best of everything. Never a simple, fragile trinket like this. I felt a burning stare drilling into my back, practically piercing through my bones. I glanced over my shoulder. Cole was staring dead at my completely bare wrist. His face was terrifyingly pale. 4 After that night, I heard the rumors. While I was stuck in the hospital for a week, Cole had launched an aggressive, highly public pursuit of Lily. People called it love at first sight. He made such a massive scene that the whole campus knew, and their relationship practically had a dedicated fan club. That was exactly how Cole operated when he liked someone. Passionate. Fearless. Willing to lay the absolute best of the world at their feet. As for me. Some people waited to watch me humiliate myself. Others just pitied me. I didn’t care either way. My family’s background was on par with Cole’s, and our dating rumors had eventually reached our parents’ ears. When my mom called to ask, I just laughed it off and clarified that we were strictly platonic. It was a favor to Cole, and a favor to myself. I refused to get dragged into the messy drama of the main characters ever again. Balancing a heavy stack of library books in my arms, I slowly made my way down the stairs. My foot hadn’t completely healed yet. Suddenly, someone rushing to class clipped my shoulder from behind. The books scattered everywhere. I lost my balance. Seeing the hard concrete stairs rushing up to meet my face, I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut. The brutal impact never came. Someone firmly caught my forehead, steadying me. When I opened my eyes and saw his face, my eyelashes fluttered. I managed a clumsy, “Thank you.” It was Sebastian. I hadn’t seen Sebastian in a very long time. I had only heard whispers that he recently published another groundbreaking paper. The faculty worshipped him, and his spot in the top grad program was already locked in. Girls confessed to him constantly, but he never gave them the time of day. Just like in high school, he was the campus untouchable. Completely out of reach. Cold, detached, and impossible to claim. He quickly pulled his hand back and crouched down to gather my scattered books. His crisp white shirt seemed to glow in the sunlight spilling through the stairwell window. The tiny mole under the corner of his eye caught the light, gleaming in a way that made my chest ache. Right now, his expression was entirely blank. As if he didn’t even know me. I took the books he handed back. Just as he turned to leave, I reached out without thinking and grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Hey… could I get your number?” It was the clumsiest pickup line in existence. A brief flicker of surprise seemed to cross Sebastian’s features, but then it was gone, leaving nothing but ice. He looked down, his voice barely a whisper, yet every single word cut deep. “Are you trying to play me again, Audrey?” There was a bitter edge of self-mockery in his tone. My breath hitched. Ah. He hadn’t forgotten me after all. Which meant he probably hated my guts. 5 I met Sebastian long before I ever met Cole. But our ending was anything but graceful. Or rather, in Sebastian’s eyes, we never even had a beginning. I had told him I liked him. I worked myself to the bone just to get accepted into the same college as him. But the moment he finally gathered the courage to confess to me, I shot him down with brutal cruelty. At that time, the story’s algorithm had activated. I was destined to meet Cole freshman year, and I was destined to die a few years later, cementing my role as the untouchable ghost of his past. It was an unchangeable script. But back then, I had almost melted Sebastian’s frozen heart. The boy who was as cold as a glacier actually smiled at me with pure, unfiltered warmth. The System absolutely refused to let that happen. When the System attached itself to me, Sebastian’s existence almost got completely wiped out. People started forgetting the brilliant, aloof physics prodigy. His body began to turn translucent. Every trace that he had ever existed in this world was being erased by a supernatural force. Using my System privileges, I sneaked a look at what Sebastian’s future was supposed to be. It was beautiful. He was meant to enter the most prestigious university in the country and become a globally renowned astronomer at a shockingly young age. He would discover a planet, and they would name it after him. He shouldn’t lose a bright, brilliant future just because of me. At the high school graduation banquet, in front of our entire class, I dumped a glass of red wine right over his head. The dark red liquid ruined his shirt, completely crushed his pride. And annihilated his love for me. With my chin tilted high, I looked at him with absolute disgust. “You’re just a charity case living off my family’s money. Who gave you the right to like me?” No one knew my hands were violently shaking inside my sleeves. I never saw Sebastian again after that. After burning the bridge so thoroughly, he vanished from my world entirely. And eventually, I ran into Cole, the male lead I was mathematically obligated to fall for. The inescapable algorithm forced me step-by-step into the role of the tragic, short-lived first love. But all these years, I never once dreamed of Sebastian. Sometimes I thought I had been so wicked, so cruel. That even in my dreams, Sebastian refused to look at me.

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I married a stern, old-fashioned doctor. He always claimed I was too young, yet he was willing to unbutton his own coat to keep my sister warm. Heartbroken and utterly discouraged, I turned to walk away. He let out a soft sigh. “If you want to talk, Luna, could you at least button my shirt back up first?” So, I packed my bags and ran. He tracked me down at a hotel, cornering me in the dim room. “Running away just to elope with that little punk? Does he know you can’t sleep unless you’re wrapped in my arms every single night? Speak to me.” That night, I was terrified. I had never seen Liam lose control like that. 1 I woke up at six-thirty in the morning. By my calculations, Matthew should be wrapping up his shift right about now. Hey handsome, off shift yet? Can I come pick you up and drive us home? They just opened a new bakery on the strip. The cupcakes look absolutely gorgeous! I’m dying to try one. Look! [Image Attached] I set my phone down, got out of bed, and started on my makeup and outfit. An hour slipped by. My screen remained a graveyard of one-sided chatter. No response from Matthew. I patted my cheeks gently in the mirror, whispering a little pep talk to myself. It was fine. Matthew was a surgeon. His schedule was brutal. I couldn’t expect him to be attached to his phone. With a sigh, I decided to just head over to the hospital and surprise him. But as I reached for my keys, my phone blared. It was my mother. “Luna, where are you?” her voice vibrated with panic. “Get to the emergency room right now! Your sister has been in an accident!” 2 When I burst into the hospital, the first person I saw was Matthew. My sister, Blythe, was weeping, her shoulders trembling as she spoke to him. He let out a soft sigh. Then, unbuttoning his own heavy coat, he draped it gently over her shivering frame. My feet froze to the linoleum floor. “Luna! Over here!” My mother spotted me and called out. Forcing my face into a mask of calm, I hurried over. It was only then that I noticed the crimson splatters coating Blythe’s clothes. “Blythe! Oh my god, are you hurt? What happened?” Her pale face managed a fragile, reassurred smile. “I’m okay, Luna. It’s not my blood. Don’t worry.” She had stumbled upon a multi-car pileup on her way back. Being a doctor herself, her instincts had kicked in, and she had performed emergency triage on the asphalt. My mother had seen a local news broadcast showing her covered in blood and had panicked, calling me in a frenzy. Blythe wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Honestly, thank god for Matthew. He coordinated the incoming trauma bays. I don’t know what I would have done without him.” Matthew shook his head, his expression characteristically neutral. “Just doing my job.” “But some of them,” Blythe’s voice cracked, her eyes pooling again, “we couldn’t save them. There was nothing we could do.” She broke down into quiet, choked sobs. Matthew pulled a tissue from his pocket and handed it to her. “You did everything you could.” I wrapped an arm around my sister’s shoulders, murmuring soft comforts. Only then did Matthew finally turn his gaze toward me, as if just realizing I was standing there. “Why are you here?” he asked. I blinked, momentarily thrown by his cool tone. “I came to pick you up.” “No need. I have a late-night surgery scheduled. Head home first.” His voice was a flat, even line, devoid of the warmth he had just shown my sister. “Oh. Okay.” Before I could say anything else, he turned and strode down the corridor. Blythe quickly dried her eyes and stood up. “I don’t have anything pressing. Let me know if you need an extra set of hands in the OR!” she called out, hurrying after him. I watched their retreating figures, moving in perfect, synchronized harmony. They looked so right together. 3 It was past midnight when Matthew finally unlocked the front door. True to his usual routine, he headed straight for the guest bedroom. Six months of marriage, and he had yet to touch me. Every time I tried to bridge the distance, his answer was always the same: You’re still too young, Luna. Be good. But tonight, I didn’t want to be good. I kicked off my covers and crept down the hallway, slipping quietly into his bed. Matthew had just stepped out of the bathroom. A white towel was slung low on his hips, and droplets of water clung to his collarbones, catching the dim light. I swallowed hard. “Come here,” he murmured. I padded over like a fool. He immediately stepped out of his slippers and nudged them toward my feet. “Barefoot again.” At a moment like this, who cared about shoes? I lunged forward, wrapping my arms tight around his torso, my hands sliding over the firm, hot planes of his chest. The touch of his abs and the sharp dip of his waist sent a shiver straight down my spine. Matthew’s breath hitched, and he gently but firmly pried my hands away. His gaze darted downward, suddenly tense. Beneath the terry cloth of his towel, a very distinct, rigid contour had formed. Flustered, Matthew took a step back. “I need to take another shower.” I didn’t let him escape. I threw my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against his damp shoulder blades. “Are you going to run from me forever, Matthew? Either make this a real marriage, or give me a divorce. You choose.” 4 Matthew went completely rigid beneath my touch. His skin felt simultaneously burning hot and ice cold. My small hands felt like matches, sparking miniature wild fires wherever they brushed against his skin. “Luna, please. You’re too young.” “I’m not a child anymore. I graduate next spring.” I stepped around him, forcing him to face me. The dark depths of his eyes held a storm of emotions I couldn’t quite decipher. Reaching up, I cupped his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t you want me, Matthew?” The next second, the sky fell. His mouth slammed onto mine, a desperate, crushing kiss that swept away my breath. He lifted me effortlessly, my feet dangling as he carried me to the bed. Cool droplets from his hair fell onto my bare collarbones, stinging slightly, but the heat of his body quickly vaporized the chill. The tenderness was gone, replaced by a fierce, raw possessiveness. It hurt a little, but it was intoxicating. For a man who was always so composed, so utterly unshakable, this unbridled hunger was a revelation. He wanted me. Desperately. The night stretched on, a blur of heavy sighs, tangled sheets, and a fire that refused to be quenched. When the first rays of dawn finally filtered through the blinds, I was utterly spent, whimpering softly into his chest. “Say it,” he rasped, his voice rough and low against my ear. “Tell me who I am.” “Husband,” I breathed, my voice practically gone. He pressed a fierce, lingering kiss to my shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly against my skin, before I finally drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. 5 When I woke up, the space beside me was already cold. A neat note sat on the nightstand: An emergency trauma came in. I’ll try to be home early. There’s breakfast warming on the stove. Make sure you eat. I let out a long, shaky exhale, pulling the duvet up to hide the colorful marks blooming across my skin. I rolled over, intending to steal a few more hours of sleep, when my phone began to vibrate violently. It was Carter, my childhood best friend. I dragged the phone to my ear. “What?” I rasped, my voice sounding like a rusted hinge. Carter gasped on the other end. “Jesus, Luna, did you catch the plague? Why do you sound like you’ve been screaming at a rock concert?” I flushed crimson, thinking of exactly why my throat was raw. “Never mind that. What do you want?” “Oh, right. That background check you asked me to run on Matthew and your sister. I finally got the files.” “What files?” My brain was still half-asleep. “You know, when you suspected there was some history between them before you guys got married. You forgot already?” My heart did a sudden, violent downward plunge. The memory of Blythe weeping in the ER flashed in my mind. “What did you find?” Carter let out a heavy sigh, his tone uncharacteristically somber. “Luna, are you sure you want to hear this? If you want to back out, now’s your last chance.” 6 Matthew came home earlier than usual that evening. Normally, the moment his key turned in the lock, I’d be waiting by the door, demanding a welcome-home kiss. He would always frown, gently nudging me away with, “I haven’t washed my hands yet, sweetheart. It’s dirty.” “I’m not kissing your hands,” I would pout, and though he’d look exasperated, he would always bend down and kiss me anyway. But tonight, I didn’t move. I remained curled up on the sofa, staring blankly at the television. I heard him pause at the entryway, a beat of hesitation in his footsteps before he changed his shoes, washed his hands, and walked over to me. He gently pulled the throw blanket up to my shoulders. “How long have you had the AC blasting? Aren’t you cold?” I didn’t answer. Matthew picked up the remote and raised the temperature. On screen, the main characters of the romance drama were finally confessing their love, sharing a tearful embrace. My own tears began to slip silently down my cheeks. Matthew pulled a tissue from the box and offered it to me. I ignored it. With a soft sigh, he sat down beside me, gently turning my face toward his to wipe my wet lashes. His eyes searched mine, but I kept my gaze fixed on the screen. “They finally made it,” I whispered. “Yeah,” he murmured softly. “They were college sweethearts. They fell in love at university, but they separated because of a misunderstanding. Now they’ve found their way back to each other, and they’re going to get married.” Matthew let out a soft chuckle, his thumb stroking my cheek. “It’s just a TV show, Luna. You’re more invested than the actors.” “Matthew, who was your first love?” The question caught him entirely off guard. His frame went rigid. I leaned forward, burying my face in his chest, clutching his shirt. “I mean, you were my first everything. What about you? And don’t you dare lie and say it was me. I won’t believe it.” Before he could answer, his phone buzzed. Probably the hospital. He reached for it, but I clamped my hand over his. “Is there really no other surgeon in that entire building besides you?” “Luna, don’t be difficult.” I clung to him, pressing my lips against his collarbone, nipping lightly until I felt his breath hitch and his grip tighten on my waist. But he answered the call anyway. Because I was pressed so close to him, I could hear the voice on the other end loud and clear. It wasn’t the hospital administrator. “Matthew? Are you busy right now? Could you come over for a bit?” It was Blythe. A sudden wave of mischief and resentment washed over me. I began tracing slow, agonizing circles over his chest through his thin cotton shirt. He was incredibly ticklish there. His hand shot out, capturing my wrists to still my movements. He stood up, the tips of his ears flushing a deep crimson. “What’s the emergency?” his voice remained perfectly cool and professional, but his eyes were dark. He took a few steps away, and I could no longer make out Blythe’s words. I could only watch as his brow furrowed, the flush on his ears draining away to leave him pale. His expression turned incredibly grim. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up and turned toward the door. I grabbed his wrist. “Luna…” Matthew paused, dialing Blythe back quickly. “I have to go. Let’s talk when I get there.” He hung up and looked down at me. “Luna, the hospital…” “I don’t want you to go.” It was the first time I had ever thrown a tantrum. Matthew blinked, slowly sitting back down on the edge of the sofa, trying to coax me. “Be a good girl, Luna. I’ll be back before you know it…” “Don’t bother.” I didn’t look at him, keeping my voice as cold as ice. “Either you stay here tonight, or we get a divorce. Choose.” 7 Matthew didn’t choose. He simply patted my shoulder and murmured, “Luna, don’t throw that word around so lightly.” And then he walked out the door. He actually left. Furious, I hurled the remote control at the door. Fine. If he thought I was just making empty threats, I would show him. I stood up to go pack my bags. But as I passed the dining table, I froze. Sitting there was a beautifully wrapped cake box. It was from the exact bakery I had messaged him about the day before. All my random, silly messages… he had actually read them. He had remembered. I pulled out a chair and sat down slowly. Unwrapping the cake, I took a small bite. Liar. It wasn’t sweet at all. Two hot tears spilled over my lashes, dripping onto the pristine frosting. 8 I went back to my mother’s house. For three days, I lived like a coddled princess, doing nothing but lounging on the sofa. As I was mid-bite into a tub of ice cream, I heard the front door open. I didn’t turn around, mostly because I didn’t want to face my mother’s inevitable interrogation. “Mom, if I told you I wanted a divorce, would you still let me live here?” The sound of keys clattering to the floor made me whip my head around. “Mom, I was just kidding, don’t be—” The words died in my throat. My mother was indeed standing there, but Matthew was right behind her. My mother looked incredibly anxious, while Matthew remained completely unbothered, carrying several heavy grocery bags. “Let me help you put these in the kitchen, Mom,” he said smoothly. “Oh, thank you, Matthew.” The moment he stepped into the kitchen, my mother rushed over, her voice a harsh whisper. “What on earth are you talking about? Divorce? Did you two have a fight?” “No.” I pulled a throw pillow over my face, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into the cushions. My mother let out a frustrated sigh. “Matthew spoils you too much. It’s made you utterly lawless.” I pulled the pillow down slightly. “Mom, Blythe is older and still single. Why did you insist on me marrying Matthew instead of her?” “Your grandfather and Matthew’s grandfather made that pact decades ago. It was always meant for you and Matthew. Besides, weren’t you head over heels for him? What is this sudden nonsense?” I wasn’t the only one who loved him. I offered a bitter smile, stood up, and retreated to my old bedroom. Matthew was exasperatingly good at playing the perfect son-in-law. Within an hour, the scent of a gourmet dinner drifted through the house, and I could hear my mother laughing merrily at something he said. I curled up on my bed, refusing to go out. A quiet knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” I mumbled, burying my face deeper into the pillow. Matthew stepped inside, stopping just across the threshold, maintaining a polite distance. “Are we going home tonight?” The front door chimed again. Blythe was home. “Mom, what smells so good?” “Matthew made dinner!” “Matthew? Why is he here?” Footsteps approached my room, and Blythe appeared in the doorway. She froze when she saw the two of us. “Luna, you’re back too?” “Yeah. Just staying for a couple of days.” I brushed past them both, heading to the dining room. The table was laden with dishes. There was the sweet-and-sour pork I loved, the chicken broth my mother adored, and… A plate of garlic-roasted potatoes. Blythe’s absolute favorite. He really was incredibly thoughtful. 9 “Blythe, I thought you avoided garlic like the plague these days?” My sister had been quietly reaching for the roasted potatoes throughout the meal. Even my mother had noticed. Blythe flushed slightly, offering a shy smile. “It’s been a while. I suddenly had a craving for them.” I let out a silent, bitter laugh. In the years before we were married, how many times had Matthew made those exact potatoes for her? Ever since we were kids, because Blythe loved potatoes, that dish had always belonged to her. By habit, I never touched them. Just as the sweet-and-sour pork was always reserved for me. But tonight, I didn’t touch a single bite of my favorite dish. I simply drank two bowls of soup and stood up. “I’m full.” Matthew set his fork down, his gaze tracking me as I walked away. “She’s just throwing a little tantrum,” my mother whispered loudly. “Go on in and coax her. She’ll soften up.” Matthew nodded politely and followed me into my room, closing the door firmly behind him. My childhood bedroom was small, and his tall frame made the space feel instantly cramped. I sat at my old desk, staring at the wall. “What do you want?” Matthew didn’t answer. He picked up a small photo frame from my desk, his eyes lingering on a picture of me laughing as a teenager. “I came to take you home.” “What home? You made your choice, Matthew.” He finally set the frame down and took a slow step toward me. I felt a sudden, inexplicable wave of nervousness. “What are you doing?” His eyes were dark and unreadable. “Luna, it seems I haven’t made myself clear.” “What?” He stepped close, his hands cupping my face. “Didn’t I tell you never to say those two words again?” The warning signs were there, but my stubborn streak won. “I’ll say it if I want to. I want a divorce, Matthew! A—” His mouth slammed down on mine, cutting off the word with a punishing, bruising kiss. It was just like that night—wild, intense, and laced with a quiet fury. “Stop… mmm… my family is right outside…” I gasped, trying to push against his solid chest, but he only pressed closer. The doorknob clicked. “Matthew, Mom wanted to ask you…” Blythe’s voice cut off instantly. “Oh. Sorry.” The door clicked shut again as she fled. Matthew didn’t even pause. He lifted me easily, tossing me onto the soft mattress of my single bed. “Are you out of your mind? We’re at my mother’s house!” I hissed. A slow, dangerous smile crept onto his lips as he began slowly unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time. “Isn’t this exactly the kind of thrill you like, baby?”

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1 On the reality show, the interviewer leaned forward and asked, “Have you ever been in a relationship?” I looked directly into the camera, my voice cool and entirely detached. “Yes. But he was far too clingy, so we broke up.” A moment later, the crew interviewed the nation’s darling, the brilliant, award-winning actor Gabriel. With an incredibly tragic, puppy-dog expression, Gabriel sighed. “She was too cold to me, so she dumped me. Honestly, I only joined this show because of her.” The internet exploded. Within seconds, fans launched a massive online crusade, determined to unmask the ungrateful ex-girlfriend who had dared to break the golden boy’s heart. Meanwhile, I quietly took a step back in the lounge, praying I could blend into the wallpaper. … When I first received the invitation to join Heartbound, a celebrity dating reality show, I had absolutely no intention of going. But then they offered me a sum of money that made my jaw drop. It was only when I arrived on set that I realized my ex-boyfriend, Gabriel, was also on the roster. To make matters worse, his rumored on-screen sweetheart, Alyssa, was here too. The two of them had just starred in a massive historical drama that had taken the country by storm. Their on-screen chemistry was so intense that their shipper fandom was practically feral, begging them to get married in real life. As for me, I was just a struggling, low-tier actress. I had been blessed with striking looks, but cursed with a reputation that turned me into a magnet for online abuse no matter what I did. And ninety percent of that abuse was courtesy of Alyssa. She had set me up on multiple occasions, successfully cementing my status as the ultimate real-life villain in the eyes of the public. The moment Alyssa saw me, she flashed a sweet, nauseating smile. “Paige, darling! I had no idea you’d be here! Why didn’t you tell me?” I brushed past her outstretched hand, utterly refusing to play along. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Alyssa. I’m not your keeper, so why would I report my schedule to you?” She froze, her lower lip trembling as her eyes instantly filled with tears. I didn’t care. If she tried to walk over me this time, I’d drag her down with me. Once all the guests had arrived, Gabriel naturally took the center spot. Alyssa stood proudly right beside him, practically radiating triumph. The live stream went active, and the chat section flooded with adoration. Gabriel and Alyssa look so perfect together! Oh my god, they need to get married already! Lock them in a room together! But Gabriel’s eyes kept drifting toward me. The intensity of his gaze made my stomach flip, and a sudden wave of panic washed over me. To kick off the show, the director announced a sudden segment, demanding that we open our suitcases on camera. I frowned, speaking up before I could stop myself. “Wait, what about basic privacy?” But the internet didn’t care about personal boundaries. The chat began flashing at lightning speed. I want to see what cute things Alyssa brought! Oh my god, show us Gabriel’s suitcase! I’m practically screaming! Looking around, I noticed that the other guests didn’t look surprised at all. I realized instantly that this segment had been pre-arranged. Alyssa and I belonged to the same agency, yet no one had bothered to warn me. Before anyone else could speak, Alyssa eagerly unzipped her bag. “I’m more than happy to share my suitcase! I believe that if you join a show like Heartbound, you should be completely transparent with the audience. Don’t you agree, Paige?” She smiled with pure, harmless innocence, but I only sneered inwardly. She began displaying her belongings, starting with a fluffy, oversized pair of pajamas. “I love plush sleepwear. It’s so cozy!” Aww, those pajamas are adorable! Alyssa is such a sweet, wholesome girl! Look at how open Alyssa is. Meanwhile, some people act like they have dirty secrets to hide. “And these are my skincare products,” Alyssa continued, holding up a few bottles. “As girls, we must always take care of our skin!” She’s so sweet! I love her! Alyssa is the ultimate girl-next-door. Who wouldn’t fall in love with her? Suddenly, Alyssa’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She quickly hid something behind her back, stammering with embarrassment. “This… please don’t look at this…” Her childish display only fueled the chat’s curiosity. The director’s eyes lit up, teasing her until she finally yielded. Biting her lip, she slowly brought out a box of herbal tea formulated for chronic stomach issues. “I bought this for myself, not for anyone else…” she whispered, lowering her head in a display of sheer modesty. But everyone knew that Gabriel frequently suffered from severe stomach pain due to his erratic shooting schedules. Oh my god! That is definitely for Gabriel! Alyssa is such a thoughtful angel! This is true love! The ship is real! Please just announce your relationship already! Am I the only one who thinks she’s being incredibly dramatic? If it was for herself, why make such a scene? The skeptical comments were instantly drowned out by her army of fans. Alyssa went through her entire suitcase, basking in the wave of online adoration. She shot me a smug, superior look, but I only offered a lazy shrug. Then she turned her gaze toward Gabriel, looking like a puppy begging for a treat. But Gabriel didn’t even glance at her. He looked right past her, his eyes locked onto me. I quickly looked down, pretending to be fascinated by my sneakers. We were broken up, yet he was still looking at me like that. It was going to be the death of me. The director soon turned the camera toward me, and I reluctantly unzipped my suitcase. Inside were just a few simple changes of clothes, two basic bottles of moisturizer, chargers, and a mountain of snacks. Fortunately, I had packed my underwear in a separate, solid black pouch. I pulled my collar up, wondering if my agent would strangle me for bringing so many snacks. Is Paige only using two bottles of moisturizer? With skin that perfect, she’s definitely trying to show off. She’s so fake. First she complains about privacy, and now she’s trying to establish a cute foodie persona? This is hilarious. Who brings a suitcase full of junk food to a dating show? So try-hard. Alyssa is much more genuine. I had no idea I was being thoroughly ripped apart online over a few bags of chips. Seeing that I hadn’t made a fool of myself, Alyssa’s smile faltered slightly. Finally, it was Gabriel’s turn. His suitcase was incredibly neat, containing only the essentials. However, with a quiet smile, he reached in and pulled out several bars of dark sea-salt chocolate. I didn’t know Gabriel liked dark chocolate! I need to buy some right now! One suitcase is full of chips, and the other has artisanal chocolate. Why does this feel strangely romantic? Don’t start shipping them. It’s only going to hurt you. I kept my eyes fixed on the floor, my heart hammering against my ribs. Gabriel hated chocolate. But that specific brand was my absolute favorite. The host smiled warmly, leaning in with the microphone. “Gabriel, why did you bring so much chocolate? We heard you don’t even like sweets.” Gabriel offered a bright, charming smile, his eyes drifting lazily in my direction. “Someone I love is completely obsessed with this brand. I brought it specifically for her.” The internet went absolutely wild. Oh my god! Is he talking about Alyssa? He loves her so much! It has to be Alyssa! Their chemistry in the drama was off the charts! Alyssa fans need to stop projecting. There are other female guests on this show. Alyssa stepped forward, her voice sweet and high-pitched as she stared at the chocolate. She clasped her hands over her mouth in delight. “Gabriel, you like this brand too? What a coincidence, it’s my favorite as well!” Gabriel silently placed the chocolate back into his suitcase, offering a cool, detached response. “Right.” Haha, is Gabriel just shy? Only real couples act this awkward on camera. If they weren’t together, they’d be playing it up with polite banter! That actually makes a lot of sense. Wait, did anyone notice that Paige also had chocolate in her bag? So what? She’s probably just trying to ride the coattails of our favorite couple! Within minutes, the trending topics on social media were completely dominated: #AlyssaAndGabrielShareSameTaste #PaigeTriesToClingToGabrielWithSnacks 2 To make the filming process easier, our rooms were located on the second floor of the villa. Gabriel looked like an absolute runway model in his crisp white shirt and dark trousers. Even while pulling a suitcase, he exuded an aura of elegant, untouchable grace. Alyssa, on the other hand, stood by her heavy bag, looking incredibly fragile. She cast a helpless, pleading look toward Gabriel. “Gabriel, could you help me with my suitcase? It’s so heavy, I can’t seem to lift it.” Her voice was sweet enough to melt a stone. But Gabriel walked straight past her, stopping right beside me. “Sorry, Paige already asked me to help her first. You’ll have to find someone else.” Before I could say a word, he snatched the handle of my suitcase from my grip. Alyssa’s fans instantly lost their minds, flooding the live chat with anger. Paige is shameless! First she copies Alyssa’s snacks, and now she’s stealing her man? Can someone please kick Paige off this show? She’s ruining the romance! What a manipulative snake. She clearly saw Alyssa struggling, yet she rushed to claim Gabriel first! Is Alyssa a delicate princess or something? Can’t you see Gabriel simply didn’t want to help her? I was entirely oblivious to the online war, but I knew I was likely being roasted alive. To minimize the damage, I held onto the handle, whispering through gritted teeth, “Let go. I can carry it myself. I don’t need your help.” He refused to release his grip. Instead, he leaned down close, his lips curving into a soft smirk. When we were together, this specific movement usually meant he was about to kiss me. Fearing he would do something reckless on live television, I immediately let go and stepped back. He raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping to a low whisper that only the two of us could hear. “I’ll bring the chocolate to your room tonight.” My face flushed hot. Seeing Alyssa standing there in distress, another male guest, Brody, stepped forward to help. “Alyssa, let me carry that for you.” Alyssa’s eyes welled with tears as she shook her head. “No, thank you. I can manage on my own.” Brody blinked, looking genuinely confused. “Wait, if you can do it yourself, why did you ask Gabriel in the first place?” Alyssa’s face burned crimson with embarrassment. Angered, she grabbed her bag and dragged it up the stairs herself. The viewers were stunned. Brody is the ultimate literal-minded guy. Alyssa looks so pitiful. Is everyone ganging up on her just because she’s successful? My heart breaks for her. She was just trying to be polite, and now everyone is treating her like a burden. Gabriel carried both of our suitcases upstairs, entirely ignoring Alyssa as he walked past her. She bit her lip, looking thoroughly miserable. Seeing her distress, several other male guests quickly rushed over to offer their help, which finally brought a small, satisfied smile back to her face. See? Our girl is still loved by everyone! That snake Paige might have gotten his help, but Gabriel clearly belongs to Alyssa! Gabriel shouldn’t have helped Paige. Look at her face, she doesn’t even look grateful. Who does she think she is? I followed behind Gabriel, nursing a massive headache. The rooms were self-selected, and under the pretext of convenience, Gabriel claimed the room directly next to mine. Alyssa quickly claimed the room on his other side. As he set my suitcase down inside my room, he turned his back to the cameras and shot me a heavy, loaded look. When we were together, this look was always followed by him pinning me against the nearest surface. My heart did a violent flutter. Even after all this time, I still had absolutely zero immunity to his face. I swallowed hard, preparing to kick him out, but he simply turned and walked away with effortless grace. Alright, maybe I was just overthinking things. After all, we were broken up.

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I am the definition of a quiet wallflower, yet my best friend, Serena, is the ultimate player. I always thought she was too clever to ever get caught, but today, her luck finally ran out. She burst into my apartment, her face pale with panic. “I’m ruined, Paige!” “I confessed to three different guys last night, and all three of them said yes! What am I supposed to do?” As she paced the floor in a frenzy, her eyes suddenly lit up. “Hey, how about I give one of them to you?” I thought she was joking, so I casually took the phone from her hand. But the very next second, my breath caught in my throat. One of the contact cards displaying a successful confession belonged to Liam, my high school classmate whom I had secretly loved for five long years. I thought I had buried those feelings years ago. Yet, the moment I saw his face on her screen, my heart skipped a beat. After a long silence, I looked up, keeping my voice as flat and casual as possible. “Sure.” “Can you give this one to me?” 1 Serena went quiet for a few seconds. She shot me a thoroughly surprised look. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to agree so quickly.” I scrolled through his profile, pretending to be indifferent. “He’s handsome. Chatting with him isn’t exactly a chore.” Serena didn’t think much of it, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “True.” A quiet, bitter ache settled in my chest. Serena was a breathtaking beauty. Whenever we traveled to different cities, street photographers would inevitably stop her, asking to take her picture. She would flash them a radiant smile. “Is this free, or are you going to charge me?” The photographers would laugh, their eyes filled with admiration for this stunning stranger. “For you? Absolutely free.” Meanwhile, I would stand awkwardly to the side, holding her coat and waiting for her to finish. Life was rarely fair. I was always the one left in the shadow. I wasn’t ugly, but I was entirely ordinary. Because of that, I hadn’t dated once throughout my four years of college. I never initiated anything, and naturally, no one ever approached me. So, being allowed to step into Serena’s shoes and talk to Liam felt like winning the lottery. It was a tiny, stolen piece of luck. Serena explained that she and Liam had met through an online game. I was stunned to learn that the straight-A student who used to top our class ranking was involved in something as casual as online dating. “He’s actually very generous,” Serena said, tilting her head. “He’s probably quite wealthy, too. He bought me several thousand dollars’ worth of in-game skins.” Then, as if remembering something amusing, she giggled. “But my other guys are much wealthier, so… oops!” I remained silent, not knowing what to say. “Besides, the others are guys I know in real life. He’s the only one I met on the internet.” Serena paused, looking at me seriously. “So, if you meet him in person and he turns out to be a catfish, don’t blame me.” I jumped out of my chair in a panic. “What?” I gasped. “We have to meet in person?” 2 Serena laughed at my dramatic reaction. “Of course you do. What’s the point of online dating if you never meet in real life?” “But… how can I go?” My mind was spinning. “What am I supposed to say?” “Just tell him you’re Serena.” “But I’m not you!” Serena rolled her eyes, flopping onto my beanbag chair with the lazy grace of a cat. “He doesn’t know what I look like, and he’s never met you. The moment you show up, you are Serena.” She spoke with complete nonchalance, as if pretending to be someone else to go on a date was the most natural thing in the world. “What if he asks about… my life? I don’t know anything about what you told him.” “That’s why we’re having a crash course right now.” Serena pulled out her phone and began listing the various details of the persona she had built for Liam. But I didn’t hear a single word. My gaze was entirely fixed on the black profile picture on her screen. Liam. It was only after high school graduation that I had gathered the courage to add him on social media. But his profile had always been set to private, showing only three days of history, which consisted of nothing but generic landscape photos. I had assumed we would remain strangers for the rest of our lives. Yet now, his chat box was open right in front of me. Can we meet tomorrow at seven in the evening? Attached was a small sticker of a puppy scratching its head. It was hard to reconcile this cute, sincere gesture with the brilliant student who used to deliver school speeches with a perfectly deadpan expression. The contrast was incredibly endearing. “…so the key is to keep him hooked. Give him just enough attention to make him obsessed, and then pull back. Keep him wanting more.” Serena suddenly leaned in, catching me staring blankly at the screen. She furrowed her brow. “Are you even listening to me, Paige?” Her voice snapped me back to reality. “Yes, I am.” She crossed her arms, demanding I repeat what she had just said. I remained silent. With a heavy sigh, she handed me her phone. “Forget it. Just read through the chat history from the very beginning. You have twenty-four hours before the date. My survival depends entirely on you, Paige.” She stood up to go start her skincare routine, leaving me alone with the phone. I stared at the screen for a long time. Tomorrow at seven. I was going to use another girl’s name to meet the boy I had loved in secret for five years. It was the cruelest joke fate had ever played on me. 3 I barely slept that night. I spent hours in front of the mirror, practicing Serena’s tone, her gestures, and her laughter. Before leaving the apartment the next evening, I changed into a sleek, emerald slip dress—a style Serena favored but I would never normally wear. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I could barely recognize myself. Serena helped me curl my hair, nodding in approval. “Honestly, you actually look like me now.” Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the restaurant Liam had chosen, a quiet, upscale sushi bar in the city center. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. The restaurant was relatively quiet, and I spotted him immediately. He was slightly leaner than he had been in high school, wearing a thin black sweater with the sleeves casually rolled up to his forearms. His sharp jawline and clean profile were exactly as I remembered, yet there was a new, mature edge to him. I paused at the entrance for a few seconds before forcing my feet to move. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. As I approached the table, he looked up. Our eyes met. My mind went completely blank. Every single opening line Serena had prepared for me vanished into thin air. Liam stood up and politely pulled out a chair for me. The gesture was simple and natural, a testament to his good manners, but it still sent a shiver through my veins. During my high school years, I had dreamed of this moment countless times—sitting across from him, sharing a meal, talking like a normal couple. But it had always been a fantasy. Now, it was real. But I was playing a part. “Hi,” Liam spoke first, his voice low and smooth. “I’m Liam.” “I’m Serena,” I replied, my voice trembling slightly. He looked at me for three long seconds. Those seconds felt like an eternity. Then, a faint, barely perceptible smile touched the corner of his lips. When the waiter handed us the menus, I blurted out, “No wasabi for me, please.” The moment the words left my mouth, I froze in horror. Serena absolutely loved spicy food and wasabi. I had seen a bag of wasabi-flavored chips on her desk just before I left. Hearing my request, Liam fell silent. 4 I scrambled to find a way to cover my mistake, but Liam simply nodded, his expression neutral. “Understood. I’ll make a note of that.” He didn’t ask any questions. I let out a quiet sigh of relief, though a strange, uneasy feeling lingered in the back of my mind. The rest of the dinner went much smoother than I anticipated. Liam was a man of few words, but he was incredibly attentive, ensuring the conversation never felt forced. He listened quietly, nodding occasionally with a soft smile. After that evening, Liam began inviting me out regularly. We had dinners, went for long walks, and visited art exhibitions on the weekends. Meanwhile, Serena seemed to lose all interest in him. She was far too busy managing her other relationships—spending Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays with her younger boyfriend, and Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays visiting her older benefactor at his corporate office. She was a master of time management. One evening, after we finished dinner, the sky was still painted with the pale colors of twilight. Liam mentioned a quiet park nearby and asked if I wanted to take a walk. I agreed. The late April breeze carried a gentle warmth, and the cherry blossoms along the path were in full bloom, scattering pink petals with every gust of wind. He walked on my left, matching his pace perfectly to mine. We talked about random things until he suddenly asked, “Which high school did you go to?” My heart seized. I quickly named a school on the other side of town. “St. Jude’s.” Liam paused in his tracks, then simply murmured, “Ah.” He didn’t press further. As we turned down a quiet, winding path, the sound of familiar laughter drifted through the air—a soft, sweet, melodic giggle. I instinctively raised my eyes, and my entire body went rigid. On a wooden bench just a few yards away sat Serena. She was draped over a young man’s lap, her arms wrapped around his neck as they kissed passionately. It was her younger boyfriend. Liam stopped walking. He had seen them too. My stomach twisted into a tight knot, but then I realized there was no reason to panic. To Liam, the woman on the bench was just a stranger. I was the “Serena” he was dating. He had no reason to care. Forcing a light, casual laugh, I murmured, “Kids these days are certainly adventurous.” I smiled, trying to ease the sudden tension in the air. But there was no response from the man beside me. I turned to look at him, preparing to say something else, when Liam spoke. His voice was incredibly low, cold, and sharp. “What does she have to do with you?” I froze, the sheer hostility in his tone catching me completely off guard. We walked the rest of the way in suffocating silence. It was only as we neared the exit of the park that his steps finally slowed. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice returning to its usual quiet warmth, as if his sudden outburst had been nothing but a figment of my imagination. “I lost my temper back there. That was uncalled for.” “It’s fine,” I whispered. After that day, my dates with Liam became even more frequent. I truly believed that I had successfully stepped into Serena’s shoes, that I was finally the one he was falling for. Until today. I had left work early, wanting to surprise Serena for her birthday, only to be met with a reality that showed me just how foolish I had been. 5 As I neared the restaurant, I spotted Liam standing directly in front of Serena. My blood ran cold. How did they meet? Why were they together? Before I could process the shock, Liam reached out, grabbing Serena’s wrist in a tight, desperate grip. I had never seen such a raw display of anguish on his usually composed face. His voice was hoarse, thick with emotion. “Would you rather send a complete stranger to meet me than face me yourself, Serena?” Serena looked as stunned as I was, remaining completely silent. “Who was the man carrying your shopping bags yesterday?” Liam pressed, his voice trembling. “And the one whose car you got into the day before? Serena, how many guys are you playing at once?” Serena bit her lip, refusing to meet his gaze. Liam let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, as if he had expected this exact response. Yet, he couldn’t seem to let go. “Is it really that hard of a question?” He slowly released her wrist, taking a step back as if he had finally run out of strength. “Let me ask you something else then…” “Serena, did you ever love me? Even a little?” Serena swallowed hard, her face pale. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Stop lying, Serena.” Liam leaned back against the display counter behind him, his eyes completely hollow. And then, he uttered a sentence that made my heart stop. “What about Paige?” Serena flinched. “Why are you bringing her up?” Liam let out a heavy, tired sigh. “Did you really think sending one of my old high school classmates would be enough to get rid of me?” He shook his head, his voice flat and devoid of any warmth. “She is nothing but an irrelevant stranger to me. I could never love her.” “I only love you.” The late April wind suddenly felt like ice, making me tremble from head to toe. I wanted to laugh, but my throat was tight, choked with a sudden, suffocating grief. I tried to back away quietly, wanting to escape before they saw me, but my elbow caught a vintage porcelain vase on a nearby display stand. Crash— The sharp sound shattered the silence of the restaurant. Shards of porcelain scattered across the floor.

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1 At the annual medical gala, Austin, a prominent celebrity surgeon, was asked a poignant question about his years of saving lives: was there anyone he regretted failing to save? He shook his head, then slowly nodded. “None on the operating table,” he said, his voice dropping. “But indirectly? I took a life.” The crowd fell silent as he continued, “Five years ago, my college roommate got a full-ride scholarship to study in London. He asked me to look after his girlfriend while he was away. The problem was, the moment I saw her, I fell helplessly in love.” “She rejected me at every turn. In a fit of jealousy, I Photoshopped a highly intimate picture of her and me. I showed it to him, lying through my teeth that she had slept with me for my money.” A collective gasp rippled through the auditorium. Someone in the crowd called out, “What happened next?” Austin’s eyes welled with tears. “He believed me. He broke up with her right then and there. She boarded the very next flight to go find him and explain. That plane crashed into the ocean. She died.” The day that interview clip went viral on social media, the roommate he spoke of, Jude, was boarding a flight with his fiancée, Peyton. They were flying home to get married. … In the quiet cabin of the flight back home, Jude gently pulled a wool blanket over Peyton’s legs. She smiled, offering a playful, slightly teasing pout. “So attentive, babe. Did you use to tuck your ex in on flights like this too?” Jude caught her nose in a brief, affectionate pinch, his expression softening with amusement. “Never.” “Back when I was with her, we were so broke we had to split a single five-dollar takeout box. We had to watch the timer on rental bikes just to save a buck. Flying was a luxury we couldn’t even dream of.” His smile faded, replaced by a cold, bitter edge. “Maybe if I’d had the money to buy her a plane ticket back then, she wouldn’t have sold me out.” Jude’s resentment ran deep, deeper even than mine, and I was the ghost who had been trailing silently behind him for five long years. He had every right to feel that way. His own family had been torn apart when his father walked out after an affair. Cheating was the one thing Jude loathed above all else. Worse still, when Jude had received that graphic, intimate photo of me, he had been in the middle of a crucial university laboratory experiment. The sudden shock had shattered his focus. He had dropped a highly reactive chemical flask, triggering an explosion and fire that swept through the lab. A falling ceiling beam had crushed his leg, leaving him with a permanent limp and a million-dollar debt to the school. If Peyton, his junior at the university, hadn’t stayed by his side through his long rehabilitation and pulled him out of that dark abyss, Jude’s life would have been entirely ruined. Ruined by that photo. Ruined by me. His hatred was entirely justified. I didn’t blame him. Perhaps remembering those grim days, Peyton’s eyes grew misty with sympathy. “That gold-digging Ruby got exactly what she deserved. Karma always finds people like her.” Jude offered a quiet, reassuring smile, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Forget it. Karma or not, it’s in the past. We go back a long way, after all. We should at least invite her to our wedding.” Peyton blinked in surprise, then nodded quickly. “Absolutely, we have to! When she sees that you’re wealthier now than the rich kid who stole her away, she’ll be green with regret.” “Will she?” Jude murmured, his voice barely audible. The flight attendant’s voice over the intercom drowned out whatever else he said, but for the rest of the journey, Jude seemed lighter, almost happy. I knew what he was thinking. He wanted to see me drown in regret. Back then, when he first woke up in the hospital after the fire, the very first thing he did was dial my number over and over, sending text after text to a phone that was already dead. First, he demanded an explanation. Then, his pride crumbled. He text me saying that if I came back, he would forgive the betrayal and pretend none of it ever happened. He begged me to give him time, promising he would eventually make more money than Austin ever could. He waited from dawn until dusk, staring at a screen that never lit up. When Jude and Peyton finally landed, the award ceremony video had already been trending online for twenty-four hours. Around the baggage claim, travelers were quietly debating the ethics of the scandal. “I can’t believe Dr. Austin was such a scumbag in college. That’s honestly sick.” “It was probably just a stupid joke. He didn’t mean for anyone to actually die.” “Honestly, the boyfriend is the real villain here. He dumped her over a single rumor. He probably met someone else in London and used Austin’s lie as an easy exit.” Hearing Austin’s name floating through the crowded terminal, Jude froze. Peyton looked at him, concerned. “Jude? What’s wrong?” A look of pure disgust crossed Jude’s face, his knuckles turning white against the handle of his suitcase. “Nothing. Just heard a piece of trash’s name. It makes me sick.” He was right. Austin was trash. The very day Jude had left for London, Austin had cornered me to confess his feelings. When I rejected him, he started showering me with expensive gifts. I hadn’t dared to tell Jude because I didn’t want him to worry while he was half a world away, so I simply did my best to avoid Austin entirely. I never expected my silence to drive Austin to such malice. Staggering under the weight of those memories, I shook my head to clear the thoughts. By the time I focused again, I was floating behind Jude and Peyton as they entered their new apartment. Jude had always been an incredibly attentive partner. When we were together, even on our cheap weekend trips, he would meticulously plan every detail to give me the best experience possible on a shoestring budget. He was no different with Peyton. Before returning from London, he had hired a top-tier design team to renovate their new home, tailoring every corner to Peyton’s taste. Soft beige walls, warm chestnut floors. But when Peyton noticed the sheer pink curtains fluttering gently in the breeze, she raised an eyebrow with a playful grin. “Jude, you actually made a mistake! Since when do I like pink?” Jude frowned, instinctively defending himself. “But you told me you wanted pink curtains…” He cut himself off, his face suddenly draining of color. He gently pushed Peyton back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Sorry. I got it wrong. I’ll have them replaced immediately.” It was as if the color itself disgusted him. Unable to wait for a decorator, Jude ripped the curtains from the rod with sudden, violent force and stuffed them into the trash chute in the hallway. I drifted out after him, staring silently at the empty chute. Ghosts have no tears, yet my eyes burned with a dry, heavy ache. Years ago, when Jude and I were crammed into a windowless, five-hundred-square-foot basement studio, I used to curl up against his chest and whisper: “Jude, when we make it, we’re going to buy a place with massive windows, and we’ll hang pink curtains to let the sunlight through.” He had remembered. He bought the apartment with the beautiful windows, but because the girl beside him had changed, the pink curtains had to go. I drifted back into the living room just as the two of them were grabbing their coats to head out. “Jude, do you think Ruby will show up at the college reunion tonight?” Peyton asked. My heart tightened. After leaving the country, Jude had cut all ties with our old classmates. He had no idea I was dead. But going to this reunion meant he would find out the truth. Would he be sad? Jude’s voice broke through my thoughts, cold and indifferent. “If she shows up, she shows up. It’s the perfect chance to hand her our wedding invitation.” His face remained expressionless, but the pinky finger on his left hand was trembling. He was lying. Back in college, when he secretly sold blood to buy me a winter coat and lied about winning a student grant, his pinky had trembled exactly like this. He cared. He was terrified of seeing me, or perhaps, of not seeing me. On the drive to the venue, Jude was unusually silent. No matter how excitedly Peyton talked about showing off their relationship to me and Austin, Jude only offered distant, polite nods. His grip on the steering wheel grew tighter with every block. At every red light, he checked the class group chat on his phone. As notifications rolled in from people arriving at the restaurant, his jaw clenched. In his distraction, his thumb brushed against my old, inactive profile picture. For a second, both Jude and I seemed to hold our breath. “Jude, the light is green,” Peyton reminded him. Jude jolted, tossing the phone into the cup holder as if it had burned him. “Right.” They arrived at the restaurant. The moment Jude parked, several of our old classmates waiting outside walked over to greet them. “Jude! Man, it’s been ages.” “Hey, I saw you active in the group chat earlier, tapping Ruby’s icon. You’ve been off the grid for so long, do you seriously not know what happened to her…” “It was an accident,” Jude interrupted, his tone freezing the conversation. He reached over to open the passenger door. “Everyone, this is my fiancée, Peyton.” The classmates exchanged uneasy glances, quickly shifting to polite small talk. Strangely, even as the group began walking into the restaurant, Jude remained standing by his car, his eyes darting toward the street entrance. “Jude, who are you looking for?” one of them asked. I wondered too. Everyone from our old class was here, except for me and Austin. Was he waiting for Austin? “No one,” Jude snapped, turning on his heel and walking briskly toward the entrance. Peyton blinked in confusion, quickly scrambling to catch up. Though Jude had cut everyone off years ago, his academic success abroad was well-known. During dinner, classmates kept rising to toast him. Jude accepted every drink offered, and it didn’t take long for the alcohol to flush his cheeks. Peyton, looking worried, finally placed her hand over his glass. “Jude, that’s enough drinking…” Marcus, our old class president, was already tipsy. He laughed and raised his glass. “Come on, Peyton, play nice. When Ruby was with Jude, she never breathed down his neck about having a few drinks.” The private dining room went dead silent. Marcus instantly regretted his words, biting his lip. Jude, however, let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Of course Ruby wouldn’t care. She never loved me anyway.” A sharp ache pierced through my chest, cold and biting. I could accept his anger. I could accept his hatred. But I could not bear him denying the love I had given him. “Jude, that’s out of line!” The voice belonged to Becca, my college roommate and closest friend. Her eyes were red as she looked at Jude, then glanced at Peyton, biting back her words. “She’s not even…” “She’s not here, so I’m not allowed to talk?” Jude sneered, looking around the table. “If she didn’t have a guilty conscience, why is every single person in this room here tonight except for her and Austin?” Peyton added coldly, “People with guilty consciences usually stay hidden.” “Guilty conscience?” Becca slammed her glass onto the table, standing up as tears spilled over her cheeks. “Jude, Ruby has been dead for five years!” Jude bolted upright, knocking his heavy chair backward with a loud, scraping crash. “What did you say?” Becca, fueled by alcohol and years of suppressed anger, screamed back at him, “Who are you to judge her? If she wasn’t so desperate to fly out and explain things to you, she would have never boarded that plane! She would still be alive!” Jude stared at her, his entire body starting to tremble. “Explain what?” Marcus reached out, gently pulling Becca back into her seat. “Jude… Ruby never cheated on you. That photo Austin had was fake. It was Photoshopped.” Hearing this, the tension in Jude’s shoulders suddenly broke, and he let out a bitter, mocking laugh. “Right. Keep making up stories.” He looked at Becca’s tear-stained face with utter disdain. “I get that you guys were close, but fabricating a lie like this just to defend her? It’s pathetic.” “She was blown to pieces for you, and you think I’m lying?” Becca cried. “Shut up!” Jude roared, slamming his fist onto the table. “Tell Ruby she doesn’t need to play dead. I’m not going to sue her or Austin. If she’s really that scared of me, all she has to do is show up, apologize to my face, and we’ll call it even.” Becca laughed, a sound hollow and hysterical. “You want a corpse to apologize to you, Jude?” “Do you take me for a fool?” Jude’s eyes flared with savage anger. “I know a real photo when I see one.” Peyton chimed in, her voice tight. “When that picture was sent, I helped Jude run a digital analysis myself. There was absolutely no trace of editing.” A shadow of pain crossed Jude’s eyes, but he forced his jaw to set. “Tell Ruby that if she doesn’t come here and apologize to me tonight, I’m not leaving this room.” Silence fell over the table. Becca wiped her face, a cold, bitter smile forming on her lips. “An apology? Fine, Jude. Watch this, and tell me who needs to apologize.” Peyton’s face instantly lost all color. Before she could stop her, Becca pressed play on her phone and turned the screen toward Jude. It was the video of Austin’s interview. “Five years ago, my roommate went abroad… I fell helplessly in love with his girlfriend… I Photoshopped an intimate picture… She died in a plane crash on her way to explain…”

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1 I was born a sloth. My cognitive gears turn at a glacial pace. Everything takes a beat longer to register, and my typing speed is always half a step behind the rest of the world. When I graduated from college, people at my first internship mocked me, calling me brain-damaged. My parents were so heartbroken and furious they nearly bought out and closed down the firm just to fire my tormentors. To shield me from the harsh realities of the corporate world, my older brother, Gavin, founded a boutique venture capital firm. Here, the entire staff operated at 0.5x speed, aligning their rhythm perfectly with mine. That was until last month, when a highly accomplished intern joined our department. Watching me take half an hour to draft a single email response, she tapped her fingers impatiently on my desk. “Maisie, with a brain as slow as yours, you really should focus on running errands and fetching coffee,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “The corporate world doesn’t harbor freeloaders. Otherwise, why would anyone keep a useless slowpoke around?” I clutched my water glass, my slow brain struggling to find a comeback. She had no idea that during campus recruitment, she was about to be rejected for failing her basic financial licensing exam. It was only because I saw her crying in the hallway that I begged my brother to give her a chance, casting the deciding vote that got her hired. If Gavin heard her say those words, she wouldn’t just lose her chance at a permanent position; she would be entirely blacklisted from the city’s financial district. … By the time my mouth finally opened to speak, Sasha’s thin stiletto heel had already ground into the papers I had dropped on the floor. A stark, black shoe print smeared across the core due diligence data I had spent the last two weeks painstakingly calculating. I stared down at the ruined pages, numb. A dull ache bloomed in my chest, though the crushing feeling of suffocation took a delayed ten seconds to fully register. This week, Gavin had taken the senior management team and core employees abroad for a closed-door summit, leaving the office completely in the hands of the new interns. Sasha, leveraging her Ivy League degree, had immediately set herself up as the self-appointed queen of the department. A heavy plastic bag filled with shredded paper waste was suddenly slammed onto my desk. Fine paper dust billowed into the air, settling over my keyboard and my hair. “Since your brain works at a snail’s pace, do something that doesn’t require one,” Sasha said, looking down her nose at me. “If you don’t piece this entire bag back together by tonight, don’t even think about leaving.” I blinked slowly, looking at the mess covering my workspace. At lunchtime, eager to cement her authority, Sasha announced loudly to the room: “Thanks for the hard work, everyone! Gourmet high tea from the Ritz-Carlton is on me!” “Sasha, you’re the best! We’re definitely going to rely on you once we get hired full-time!” The other interns crowded around her, offering shameless flattery. Sasha raised her voice, throwing a malicious glance toward my quiet corner. “Oh, my bad. I didn’t order anything for Maisie. After all, feeding a useless slowpoke is just a waste of company resources. Her sluggish digestive system probably wouldn’t even process high tea until tomorrow!” The office erupted into a chorus of unprompted, mocking laughter. Determined to secure their permanent positions, the other interns quickly fell into line, eager to show Sasha their loyalty by targeting me. Dustin, an intern with bleached blond hair, walked past my desk and spat his chewing gum right at my feet. Another intern, Kayla, deliberately bumped into the corner of my desk as she walked by. My water glass tipped over, sending a wave of warm water rushing across the neatly arranged paper fragments I had spent hours piecing together. The ink dissolved instantly, turning my hard work into a soggy, illegible gray paste. “Oh, my bad,” Kayla giggled, covering her mouth as she scurried back to Sasha’s side. “Maybe you shouldn’t leave your trash lying around.” I stared at the puddle on my desk, my hands hovering in the air, trembling uncontrollably. Tears welled in my eyes, but my throat was so tight I couldn’t squeeze out a single word of protest. I could only pull out a tissue, trying in vain to dab the water away. Sasha walked over, her heels clicking against the floor. Instead of stopping the harassment, she pointed a finger at my face. “Maisie, look at this disgusting mess you’ve made. You’re single-handedly dragging down the aesthetic of this entire firm.” “Go scrub the restrooms. Every single one of them. If there is a single speck of dirt left by tomorrow morning, don’t bother coming back.” I slowly lifted my head, my face flushed as I shook my head. “I… my core work… isn’t finished…” Sasha slapped my hand away and grabbed my collar, pulling it tight. The fabric choked my throat, making my vision go blurry. “Do what you’re told,” she hissed. “One more word, and I’ll make sure we all give you a zero on the peer reviews. You’ll be packed up and gone by noon.” Frightened by the sheer malice in her eyes, I shrank back. Under the watchful, mocking gazes of a dozen colleagues, my body moved stiffly as I picked up the mop and walked slowly toward the restrooms. Behind me, Sasha raised her phone, laughing loudly as she recorded my retreating back. “Hey, followers! Check this out: a real-life look at the brain-dead janitor working at the city’s top venture capital firm!” The sharp click of the camera shutter and the echoes of their laughter pierced through my sluggish senses. 2 “The way she mops is so stiff, like her brain can’t even tell her arms what to do. It’s hilarious.” The video Sasha posted in the group chat quickly sparked a flurry of messages. Her caption was incredibly cruel, and my phone in my pocket vibrated constantly against my leg with incoming notifications. Dustin sent a mocking meme, and Kayla sent a voice note: “This is so embarrassing. If a client came to visit and saw a janitor like her, they’d think our firm was about to go bankrupt.” Because of my slow movements, I had to work straight through dinner to finish cleaning. My low blood sugar made my head spin, and the heavy scent of disinfectant in the restroom made it hard to breathe. I had to lean against the tiled wall for five minutes just to gather enough strength to walk. When I finally dragged my feet back to my desk, the scene before me made me freeze. The investment draft I had spent a month carefully organizing was spread out across the table. Sasha was sitting in my chair, eating a bowl of greasy, spicy takeout noodles. Red chili oil had dripped onto my model data, and my meticulous draft was being used as a grease mat under her food. The model was something I had built line by line, staying up late to verify every single decimal point against the screen. A hot tear spilled over my cheek, landing on the back of my hand. “Why… did you… ruin my papers?” I asked, my voice trembling. Sasha sucked in a noodle, tossing her wooden chopsticks onto the ruined documents. “What are you crying for? Trying to ruin my appetite?” She pulled out a napkin to wipe her mouth, rolling her eyes. “With a rusty brain like yours, could you actually write anything of value?” “It’s just a stack of scrap paper. Using it to protect this solid mahogany desk is doing it a favor.” My body shook with anger. I reached out to pull the document from beneath the greasy container, but before my fingers could touch the paper, Sasha kicked the trash can beside my desk. With a loud crash, discarded paper and fruit peels scattered across the floor, blocking my feet. “Maisie, not only are you a slob, but you’re also a literal hoarder,” she sneered, pointing at my face. “Keeping absolute garbage like it’s some kind of treasure. You smell like poverty.” The surrounding interns gathered around, chiming in. “Seriously, Maisie, your workspace is a total eyesore. It’s ruining the high-end vibe of the office.” “I say we move her desk to the janitor’s closet in the hallway,” Dustin suggested with a smirk. “She can sit with the mops and brooms. It suits her.” Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a video call request from my brother, who was still abroad. Seeing his name on the screen, I hesitated. I knew exactly what Gavin was capable of. If he found out how I was being treated, this venture capital firm would vanish overnight, and the people standing in front of me would find their careers utterly destroyed. As I stared at the screen, Sasha stepped forward and snatched the phone from my hand, abruptly declining the call. She stared at the screen with deep suspicion, assuming I was trying to complain to management. “Oh, look at you. Trying to play the victim and tattle on us?” “Give… it… back…” I reached out, but my movements were too slow, and my hand swiped through empty air. Sasha held the phone, her gaze locking onto the device. It was a custom, zero-radiation satellite phone Gavin had commissioned from a research lab specifically for me. On the back, a single, brilliant pink diamond was flush against the casing. A glint of greed flashed in Sasha’s eyes. “Ooh, a pink diamond?” She scraped her fingernail against the stone. “Did you buy this cheap piece of glass at some street vendor for ten bucks?” 3 Sasha turned the custom phone over in her hands. Although she didn’t recognize the brand, she could tell the craftsmanship of the pink diamond was extraordinary. It was a real diamond. She clenched her jaw. How could a useless freak like me own something so valuable? She casually slipped my phone into her designer bag. “No personal phones during work hours. I’m confiscating this.” “I’ll hand it over to management when they get back from their trip, along with a formal report of your misconduct.” Tears began to spill from my eyes again. That phone contained a custom voice assistant Gavin had built for me. Without it, I couldn’t remember which bus to take or how to safely navigate the busy crosswalks on my way home. It was my only link to the outside world. “Please… give it back…” I reached out, grasping at the strap of her bag. “My brother… gave that to me…” Sasha slapped my hand away. A sharp, stinging pain radiated up my arm, and my skin immediately flushed a bright red. She looked at me, her brow furrowing with disgust. “Maisie, a slow-witted parasite like you only got into a top-tier firm like this because your parents begged and pleaded for a favor. You’re a drain on society, a complete hazard in the workplace!” She stepped closer, her sharp nail almost touching my nose. “Without your parents sheltering you, you wouldn’t even survive begging on the streets!” I covered my ears, my pale face draining of what little color it had left. Memories of my childhood diagnosis and the cruel whispers of classmates flashed through my mind, making my heart flutter erratically. I struggled to draw a breath. “No…” I whimpered, tears slipping through my fingers. “My brother said… if I take my time… I can still shine…” Sasha laughed, her voice sharp and mocking. “Shine? That’s just a lie they tell toddlers to keep them quiet!” She shoved my forehead with her finger, forcing me to stumble back a few steps. “Who do you think you are? A mute idiot who can’t even speak a full sentence. Your very existence is a waste of resources.” She turned back to the crowd of interns, raising her chin proudly. “Look at me. I come from an ordinary family, but in college, I received an anonymous, full-ride sponsorship from the city’s most powerful financial mogul. Even my placement at this firm was personally arranged by him.” Her eyes filled with arrogance. “Once I am hired full-time, I will be second-in-command here. You, Maisie, aren’t even worthy of wiping the dust off my shoes.” I froze, my slow brain catching a familiar thread of information. A year ago, Gavin had mentioned sponsoring a brilliant but underprivileged student who had failed her basic licensing exams and was about to have her contract terminated by HR. I had seen her crying in her file photo and had begged Gavin to make an exception for her. The ungrateful student was Sasha. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I stared at her. “My brother… would never like you. If he knew… the truth… he would throw you out.” The words seemed to strike a nerve, and Sasha’s face twisted with rage. “Your brother? What are you babbling about, you freak?!” She grabbed my collar, raising her hand to strike me, but stopped herself when she noticed the other interns watching. She leaned in close, her voice a lethal whisper. “The Venture Capital Gala is in three days, and the big boss will be there in person. I’ll make sure you watch me stand right by his side.” She shoved me hard, sending me crashing to the floor. “And the very first thing I do when I take power will be to crush you under my heel and throw you out of this company!” 4 Four days later, the Venture Capital Gala. I huddled in a quiet corner of the grand ballroom, finding it difficult to even breathe. Having my custom phone stolen for three days meant I had lost my voice assistant. I had gotten lost multiple times, missed meals, and had almost been hit by a delivery truck on my way home. My congenital heart condition was flaring up, pushed to its absolute limit. I wanted to cross the ballroom to find my parents and brother, who had just landed and were arriving at the venue. I leaned against the wall, dragging myself forward step by painful step. But as I rounded a corner into a quiet hallway, Sasha, dressed in a lavish gown, blocked my path. She was draped in rented jewelry, her eyes scanning the crowd for the elusive billionaire. When she saw my pale, disheveled state, her face contorted with disgust. “Oh, look. The freak is here to ruin the view.” She stepped forward, her sharp heel deliberately pinning the hem of my skirt to the floor. A sudden, sharp pain flared in my chest. I tried to pull away, but she lunged, tripping me with a harsh sweep of her leg. I lost my balance and crashed heavily onto the marble floor. The impact echoed in the quiet hallway. My knee split open against the stone, blood pooling onto the white fabric of my dress. The sharp pain made my vision go black. The interns standing behind her burst into sneering laughter. “If I were born a broken piece of trash like you, I would have ended my own life long ago,” Sasha said, looking down at me as she ground her heel against my bleeding hand. “Living like a parasite off your parents, and now you show up here trying to look for a handout? Disgusting.” The pain drained the last of my strength. My heart contracted violently, and the suffocating lack of oxygen squeezed my throat. I curled onto the floor, my body shaking uncontrollably as I reached out a hand, silently begging for help. “Stop playing dead!” Sasha snapped, kicking my hand away. “If you get blood on my couture dress, you won’t live long enough to pay for it!” As the darkness closed in, I felt myself slipping away. Suddenly, a terrified scream shattered the quiet of the hallway. “Oh my god! Miss Maisie! Miss Maisie!!!” The Executive Vice President of the firm came running around the corner, his face completely pale with horror. Before anyone could speak, the double doors at the end of the hall were thrown open with a violent crash. A group of people rushed in, their faces tight with panic. Sasha froze. She stared at the man leading the group, her heart leaping with excitement. It was the mysterious billionaire she had dreamed of meeting. But in the next second, the triumph on her face shattered. Through her widening eyes, she watched as the most powerful man in the city pushed past the crowd, dropped to his knees, and gathered my limp, bleeding body into his arms.

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1 To pay for my child’s urgent surgery, I ignored my old injuries and my husband’s protests to enter the rock-climbing championship. As I neared the summit, just a few feet from the finish line, a frantic voice crackled through my earbud. “Brooke, stop climbing!” The voice was raspy, laced with a deep, consuming desperation. Strangely, it sounded hauntingly familiar. “He’s going to release your locking carabiner. You’re going to fall, and you’ll be paralyzed!” Before I could even process the warning, a sharp click echoed from my waist. The tension in my safety harness vanished. I looked down in terror. My husband, Garett, stood on the belay platform below. He held the brake line in one hand, his eyes rimmed with red. “Brooke, Bianca is too proud,” he called up, his voice echoing. “She can’t handle losing to you again, and this championship belongs to her anyway. Your harness is loose. Just forfeit the match. Don’t fight her for this.” I froze on the vertical rock face, my mind going entirely blank. But then I thought of our child lying in the hospital bed, waiting for the money to save his life. I grit my teeth and reached for the next handhold. Suddenly, the voice in my earbud screamed, frantic and raw: “Garett isn’t a broke scholar! He’s a billionaire! He only listened to Bianca’s lies because he wanted to test your loyalty!” “And Jack isn’t your son! He belongs to Bianca and Garett!” … The mountain wind rushed up from beneath my feet, and my fingers began to bleed against the rough rock. How was that possible? How could Jack not be my son? I had endured five hours of agonizing labor, nearly dying on the operating table to bring him into this world. My blood began to slick the stone, and a terrifying weightlessness seized my entire body. When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed, the sound of soft sobbing drifting into my ears. “Garett, I’m so sorry,” Bianca wept. “I just wanted to beat her fairly for once. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just cared too much about the trophy.” “Don’t blame yourself, sweetheart,” Garett replied, his voice gentle. “I know how much this competition meant to you.” This championship indeed meant everything to both of us. Years ago, when we were known as the twin stars of the climbing world, we had entered this very tournament. Halfway up the wall, my grip had failed, and I fell, shattering my left knee. Bianca had won the trophy that year. The event took place annually, always on damp, rainy days. She had won every year since, while I could only sit in a wheelchair, suppressing the agonizing pain of bone grinding against bone, and offer her my congratulations. This year was my first comeback since my retirement, entered solely to raise the hundred thousand dollars needed for Jack’s surgery. “But what about Brooke’s leg?” Bianca asked after a brief silence. Garett sighed. “Once she donates her kidney to Jack, I’ll reveal my wealth to her and make sure she lives the rest of her life in comfort.” My knee throbbed with a burning agony. I forced myself up, grabbing the edge of the bed. The movement knocked over the IV pole, the metal clattering loudly against the floor. Bianca jumped back from Garett’s embrace, her eyes wide and watery. My gaze fell upon her throat. Resting against her collarbone was a custom silver promise pendant. During the freezing winter we had gotten engaged, Garett had promised to take me somewhere special. He had blindfolded me, guiding me up step after step. When he finally told me to open my eyes, we were standing before a majestic mountain cathedral. “We just walked up all five hundred stone steps together,” he had said, placing the silver pendant in my hand, his palms damp with nervous sweat. “I climbed up every single step on my knees to get this blessed by the priest. He said it would bind our hearts forever.” I had stared at his scraped, red knees, touched by his devotion. “You walked up all five hundred steps on your knees?” He hadn’t answered, only leaning down to fasten the pendant around my neck, his fingers warm against my skin. “Brooke, it’s not worth much, but keep it on. Think of it as me always being by your side.” I had laughed at his sentimentality, but I had never taken it off. When I fell from the rock face, the chain had snapped, and the pendant had vanished. I had spent three days searching through the gravel, weeping when I couldn’t find it. It hadn’t been lost. It had simply found a new owner. “Give it back,” I rasped. Bianca shrank back, her hand instinctively clutching the silver medallion. “Brooke, Garett gave this to me. If you really want it…” She bit her lip, playing the victim. “I can let you have it, but you can’t say ‘give it back’.” “Enough, Brooke!” Garett stepped in front of her, his brow furrowed as he glared at me. “There are millions of identical pendants in the world. How can you be sure it’s yours?” “I understand you’re frustrated about your mistake during the climb, but don’t take it out on Bianca. She did nothing wrong!” “If you’re angry, take it out on me.” My tears began to fall, hot and uncontrollable. Garett’s expression hardened, his tone turning irritable. “What are you crying for?” He paused, as if making a difficult decision. “Brooke, do you really want me to spell it out for you?” I looked at him, but he avoided my gaze, staring out the window. “You’ve been jealous of Bianca’s victory since college, haven’t you? You’ve got it all wrong. The day you fell, you had argued with her, and she cried all afternoon.” The air in the room felt thick and suffocating. I covered my ears, wanting to shut out his voice, but Garett continued ruthlessly. “So, I put something in your water bottle to teach you a lesson.” My mind went entirely blank. Six years of agonizing pain. Five years of sleepless nights on rainy days, listening to the rain as my ruined leg throbbed. All because Bianca had cried for an afternoon. My body shook as I stared at him. “Garett, you destroyed my career, you ruined my leg, just because she cried?” “You’ve had enough glory in your life, Brooke. If you weren’t so stubborn…” He sighed, his tone shifting. “It was an accident. I wanted you to lose, not to get hurt.” An accident. It was always an accident. I looked at his handsome, indifferent face, my mind drifting back to the day we had stood beneath the mountain cliffs. I had clutched his sleeve, asking if he loved me, and he had met my question with a long, heavy silence. I had waited years for an answer, and now, in his betrayal, I finally had it. I looked away, my voice steady and resolute. “Garett, I want a divorce.” “And I will not be donating my kidney to Jack.” Bianca’s face drained of color. “Brooke! How could you eavesdrop on our conversation?!” In the next instant, she dropped to her knees by my bed, her eyes swimming with tears. “I beg of you, Jack is the child you raised!” “Why should I give my kidney to some bastard child that isn’t even mine?” A sharp slap echoed through the room. My head snapped to the side, the taste of copper filling my mouth. Garett’s eyes blazed with fury. “You are wicked, Brooke.” “Jack has called you ‘Mom’ for five years. He is my son, and you speak of him like this? You don’t deserve to be a mother.” Bianca sobbed, her shoulders shaking. “It’s my fault. I wanted Jack to have a proper family, so I arranged the swap. But Jack is innocent. He didn’t choose this.” As her hand brushed against my knee, the hospital anesthetic began to wear off. A wave of excruciating pain surged through my body, radiating from my knee, my back, and my hands. My balance wavered, and I fell forward, crashing down on top of Bianca. She let out a piercing scream. Garett grabbed my shoulder, dragging me off her and throwing me aside with violent force. My back slammed against the metal bedframe, and my vision went black from the impact. “You’ve lost your mind, Brooke!” Garett yelled. Bianca cowered on the floor, shaking her head as she whimpered, “The pendant… the pendant broke…” Garett looked at me, his eyes cold. “Get in here!” he roared toward the corridor. “Tie this lunatic down!” A heavy sedative was pushed into my IV line, and my consciousness slowly slipped into the dark. When I finally woke, the room was bathed in the pale, cold glow of the moonlight. I tried to sit up, only to find my wrists secured to the bedframe with thick restraints. Footsteps approached, and a heavy-set man carrying a camera slipped into the room. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I stared at him. “What do you think you’re doing? Get out!” He offered a vile grin, locking the door behind him and setting up his camera on a tripod. I struggled against the straps, the rough material cutting into my wrists until blood began to bead on my skin. He unbuckled his belt, taking a slow, heavy step toward the bed. “Help! Someone help me!” “Garett! Garett!” The name escaped my lips before I could stop it. The memories of our past came rushing back, overriding my logic. Years ago, during a late autumn climb, I had fallen into a deep ravine. I had screamed for help until my throat was raw, believing I would die in the wilderness. Just as my consciousness was fading, I heard footsteps. Garett, carrying his heavy pack, had knelt at the edge of the ravine, his silhouette framed against the setting sun. His voice had been clear and reassuring: “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” He had spent hours pulling me out, carrying me down the mountain on his back in the pitch black. It was that memory that had taken root in my heart, a bond I had never been able to break. But now… The man leaned over the bed, his hands moving over my waist. “Well, Bianca paid a good price for this. You’ve got a nice figure, lady.” “Is it Bianca?” I gasped, my voice hoarse. “How much did she pay you? I’ll double it. Just let me go.” He slapped me hard across the face. “Shut up.” He gestured toward the wall behind the bed. “Listen to that. Your husband and Bianca are pretty occupied next door. They don’t have time for a crazy woman like you.” Through the thin drywall, a muffled rustling sound drifted into the room. “Garett…” Bianca’s voice murmured. “I think Brooke is calling out…” After a brief pause, Garett’s low, breathless voice responded, “It’s fine. She’s probably just woke up from the sedative. Focus on me, Bianca.” Tears slipped down my swollen cheeks, mixing with the blood on my wrists. No one was coming. The man tore at my shirt, his eyes locking onto the faded C-section scar on my abdomen. “A damaged good. No wonder your husband threw you away.” As he leaned down, I gathered the last of my strength. I lunged forward, sinking my teeth deep into his ear. He let out a blood-curdling shriek, his fists raining down on my head and shoulders. I didn’t let go until the taste of blood filled my mouth, a wild, desperate laugh escaping my throat. “You crazy bitch!” he screamed, clutching his bleeding ear. He wrapped his thick fingers around my neck, squeezing tight. The ceiling lights began to spin, looking like the safety ropes suspended above the climbing wall. I thought of the child they had stolen from me. Did she look like me? Did she have my eyes, my laugh? Did she curl up when she slept? Had she ever called out for her mother? I wanted to live. I wanted to see my daughter. I couldn’t die here. Suddenly, the door was kicked open, and a nurse rushed in, screaming at the man. “What do you think you’re doing?! I’ve already called security and the police!” Terrified, the man grabbed his camera and fled through the open door. The nurse rushed to my side, quickly untying the restraints and helping me adjust my clothes. I looked at her, my throat raw as I whispered, “Thank you… thank you…” She offered a gentle smile, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know who you are, Brooke. Back in college, I watched every single one of your climbing matches.” “You were so full of life, just like your name. Whatever is happening here, whoever is trying to hurt you… you need to run. Now.” I thanked her, clutching my phone with trembling fingers as I staggered out of the hospital into the freezing night. Suddenly, the screen lit up with a message from an unknown number: I know where your daughter is. As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, I ignored the sharp pain in my spine, following the coordinates provided in the text. I arrived at a massive, elegant estate. Another message arrived: The security code is your birthday. I entered the numbers, the heavy lock clicking open, and I rushed inside. The main foyer was vast, a grand crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. In the center of the room, Jack was sitting astride a little girl, holding her head down against the marble floor as he shouted, “Heeyah! Faster, pony!” The little girl lay motionless, her cheek pressed against the cold stone. I ran forward, pushing Jack aside, and gathered the little girl into my arms. I wiped the tears from her pale face, cradling her close. This was my daughter. She hadn’t disappeared. She had been hidden here all along. My phone buzzed: I’m sorry. Bianca’s due date was a few hours after yours. To prevent you from realizing the swap, she arranged to have your daughter deprived of oxygen during delivery. She was born with severe cognitive damage. A wave of grief washed over me, tears streaming down my face. I held my daughter tighter, ignoring the rest of the text. I lifted her in my arms and turned toward the door. “Mom! Mom, where are you going?!” Jack cried, slipping on the slick marble as he fell and began to weep. Alerted by the house staff, Garett and Bianca rushed through the front doors, standing side by side like a devoted couple. “Brooke, you lunatic! How dare you push Jack!” Bianca screamed. Her gaze fell upon the silent girl in my arms, a cruel, mocking smile touching her lips. “And look at you, running off with a dummy.” “She is not a dummy! She is my daughter!” Garett’s expression tightened as he stared at me, his jaw clenching. He waved his hand toward the door. Two large security guards stepped into the foyer. I turned to run, but another guard blocked the hallway, grabbing my arms. I struggled wildly, my daughter letting out a frightened, soft whimper. “Don’t touch her!” I screamed. They pried my fingers apart one by one, taking my daughter from my arms. “Brooke,” Garett said, his voice cold and flat. “Once you donate your kidney, I’ll let you see her.” “Garett, she is your daughter too!” I wept. He didn’t answer, turning his back as the guards carried my daughter away. She leaned over the guard’s shoulder, a thin line of saliva slipping from her lips. She had never even called me Mom. Before they wheeled me into the operating room, Garett leaned down and covered my eyes with a silk handkerchief, tying a neat climber’s knot at the back of my head. In the darkness, his voice was close, his breath warm against my cheek. “Brooke, be good and do the surgery. Once it’s over, I’ll explain everything to you. We’ll start over, and I will love you just like I promised at the cathedral.”

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1 “No, I can’t do this anymore…” Desperate for quick cash, I had accepted a part-time product testing gig. The listing promised a generous payout of three thousand dollars just for testing out some new merchandise. But I never could have imagined what kind of products they actually were. They were intimacy devices: high-powered vibrating toys in shades of hot pink, strangely shaped massagers, essential oils that gave off a heavy, suffocating scent, and synthetic stimulants designed to spike your adrenaline and hormones. But the most terrifying thing in the room was the heavy red leather chair. I was currently strapped to it, my wrists and ankles secured, forced to experience every single device in the shop. That day, my body’s natural sensitivity was pushed past its breaking point, trapping me in a nightmare as the shop’s personal testing machine. … My name is Luna, and I’m a dance major from a struggling background. To cover my tuition and monthly expenses, I’ve had to take on almost every odd job imaginable. Right now, I was standing in front of an adult novelty shop. It was a secluded, single-story building located in a quiet, industrial pocket of the city. A dim, warm pink light spun lazily above the entrance, casting an eerie glow over the pavement. My heart did a nervous flutter, and I checked the address on my phone one last time. This was the place. Yesterday, a notification had popped up on my student job board app: High-paying gig, first come first served. Female only. When I saw the three-thousand-dollar payout, I didn’t stop to think. I just tapped “accept.” Only now, standing in front of the locked door, did the reality of the situation sink in. A three-thousand-dollar testing job wasn’t going to be for regular household appliances. It was going to be for highly private, intimate novelty products. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. I had heard rumors of other college girls taking similar high-paying gigs. One girl had returned to the dorms with her legs shaking so badly she couldn’t leave her bed for a week. As I hesitated, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was a text from my landlord, Mr. Davis. Luna, rent is due next week. Don’t be late. On one hand, I was facing immediate eviction. On the other, I had three thousand dollars practically waiting for me. I grit my teeth. It was just a product test, right? People used these things every day. There was nothing to be afraid of. I took a deep, shaky breath, knocked on the door, and waited. The door was opened by a tall, heavily built man in his late object-thirties. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose gray sweatpants, his skin glistening with sweat as if he had just finished a strenuous workout. A heavy, sweet, yet metallic scent drifted from the interior, making my chest tighten. The man leaned against the doorframe, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. “You here for the gig?” This had to be Marcus, the owner. I offered a quiet nod. He was easily twice my size, and the fear I had managed to push down came rushing back. Marcus let out a slow, satisfied grin. “Well, they finally sent me a good one.” His gaze was incredibly intense, as if he were looking straight through my clothes. I clenched my fists, feeling like prey cornered by a predator. “Come on in,” he said, turning back into the dimly lit room. I stepped inside, the heavy, sweet scent instantly wrapping around me. The room was dark, save for the bright glow of a thirty-two-inch monitor on the main desk. As my eyes adjusted, my body went rigid. The screen was playing a highly explicit, graphic video. On the monitor, a woman was bound to a leather chair, her limbs restrained as she was subjected to various mechanical devices, her muffled gasps echoing softly from the desktop speakers. The sheer explicitness of the scene made my pulse race, a strange, nervous heat blooming in my cheeks. I tried to look away, but my eyes kept darting back to the screen. Marcus caught me looking, a low chuckle escaping his throat. “You don’t have to look away. It’s just human nature, after all.” He reached over and unplugged the headphones, letting the loud, rhythmic sounds of the video fill the empty room. “No, that’s… that’s fine,” I stammered, stepping toward the display shelves to distance myself, only to find them lined with massive, bizarrely shaped silicone devices that looked entirely unnatural. “Marcus, please… can we just get the test started? I’d like to finish as quickly as possible.” My heart was pounding against my ribs, my voice shaking. “Eager, aren’t we?” Marcus switched on a standing lamp, casting a warm, amber glow across the room. Now I could clearly see the layout. In the center of the room sat a massive king-sized bed, and beside it was an intricate red and black leather chair fitted with heavy straps and various mechanical attachments. “Right here,” Marcus said, patting the leather headrest. “This is our newest import. You’re going to be testing it today.” 2 “What?!” I gasped, taking a step back. I had assumed the testing would involve small, hand-held devices, things I could easily manage. But the chair in front of me was the exact model from the video, the one where the woman had been completely overwhelmed by the machinery. The thought of being strapped to that device made my skin crawl. “I’m not doing this. I want to cancel.” Marcus reached out, his heavy hand clamping firmly around my forearm. “Don’t be so quick to leave. This chair cost me a fortune to import, and it’s just a sensory massage system. Nothing more.” “Besides, if you back out now, you’ll have to pay the cancellation fee.” “What cancellation fee?” I demanded, trying to pull my arm free. Marcus’s lips curved into a smug smile. “I guess you didn’t read the fine print on the app.” I quickly pulled out my phone, opening the gig contract. Hidden at the very bottom of the terms was a clause stating that if the tester cancelled after arriving at the venue, they would be liable for double the payout in liquidated damages. Six thousand dollars. I had been so blinded by the three-thousand-dollar offer that I hadn’t even looked at the terms. I didn’t have six hundred dollars to my name, let alone six thousand. “I didn’t think you’d have that kind of cash lying around,” Marcus murmured, his grip on my arm tightening slightly. “How about this? If you cooperate and complete the test, I’ll add another two thousand to your payout.” Five thousand dollars. My resolve crumbled. The thought of my unpaid rent and my empty bank account flashed in my mind. “Fine,” I whispered. “But you have to stop if I tell you to.” “Of course,” Marcus promised, his voice smooth. “The moment you say stop, I’ll shut it down.” He guided me to the chair, and I lay back against the slick, cold leather. It was surprisingly comfortable, but the moment my limbs were in place, Marcus pulled the thick leather straps over my wrists and ankles, securing me flat against the frame. The interior of the straps was lined with soft velvet, preventing them from chafing my skin, but the realization of being completely helpless made my breath hitch. He walked over to a small table and lit a heavy, scented candle. As the sweet, exotic aroma filled the air, a strange, heavy relaxation began to wash over me, dulling my anxiety. “During the test, I need you to be completely honest about what you feel,” Marcus instructed, picking up a clipboard. “Your feedback determines the final report.” I nodded slowly, trying to stay focused. “Okay.” He flipped a switch on the console, and a low hum vibrated through the chair. It started gently, a pulsing sensation that moved from my calves to my thighs. “It… it tickles,” I murmured, squirming slightly. Marcus made a quick note on his clipboard. “Highly sensitive. Good.” The intensity of the vibration increased, the pulses growing stronger as they moved up toward my lower abdomen. A sudden, sharp wave of heat bloomed inside me, making my chest rise and fall rapidly. I tried to arch my hips away from the vibration, but the straps held me firmly in place. “What does it feel like now? Is it too intense?” Marcus asked, his eyes locked on my face. “It’s… it’s too much,” I gasped, my skin flushing as a feverish warmth spread through my limbs. “Marcus, turn it off… please!” The machine suddenly surged, the localized vibrations pulsing rapidly against my core. I cried out, my mind spinning as the unnatural, drug-induced stimulation overwhelmed my senses. Finally, the machine clicked off. I lay gasping for air, my skin slick with sweat, my mind completely scrambled by the intensity of the sensation. “We need to remove your outer clothes for the next phase,” Marcus said, his voice dropping an octave. “The fabric is damp, and it’s interfering with the sensors.” Before I could protest, my mind still clouded by the heavy scent of the candle, Marcus reached down and unzipped my shorts, pulling them and my shirt away until I was left in only my underwear. The cool air of the room hit my damp skin, making me shiver. He picked up my shorts, his eyes dark as he examined them. The cold air helped clear my head, and a sudden wave of panic washed over me. “No… we didn’t agree to this. I want to stop!” I struggled against the leather straps, but Marcus simply looked down at me, a cold, dark grin on his face. “You don’t get a say anymore.”

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1 My ten-year-old son, James, was supposed to be enjoying his after-school swim club. Instead, his classmates held his head down, pinning him to the pool’s suction drain. I dove in like a madman when I saw the water blooming with a sickening crimson. But by the time I dragged him out, the brutal force of the drain had already torn his face beyond recognition. He choked up a final pool of dark blood and went completely still. The ringleader, an arrogant boy, sneered without a shred of remorse. “So what? I’m a minor, the law can’t touch me anyway.” “Besides, I couldn’t stand him. Now that he’s dead, nobody is in my way for first place.” His father tossed a credit card at my feet with a lazy, patronizing shrug. “There is a hundred grand on there. That should be more than enough to buy your boy’s cheap life.” Grief-stricken, I demanded justice, but my wife, Audrey, held me back. “They’re just kids, Lucas! Our boy is already gone, do you really want to ruin another child’s entire future?” My relentless crusade only managed to land the boy a brief stint in juvenile hall, a far cry from the justice my son deserved. Consumed by despair, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills by my son’s grave. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I was supposed to drop James off at the pool. Instantly, I grabbed his hand and dragged him back to the car. We were going home. But even with James safe, the tragedy of the pool still unfolded, only this time, it claimed a different boy. … We had left in such a hurry that James’s dry clothes were still in the locker room. I told him to wait in the car while I ran back inside, intending to also warn the facility manager about the dangerous suction drain. But the moment I stepped into the natatorium, a chorus of cruel laughter echoed off the tiled walls. “Look at him! Doesn’t he look like a dead fish? Move, you idiot! Why aren’t you moving? Hahaha!” Three boys were laughing hysterically. The tallest, Mason, was stepping heavily on a patch of blue fabric underwater. Seeing that familiar shade of blue, identical to James’s swimsuit, and the faint pink cloud rising in the water made my heart stop. If I hadn’t known for a fact that James was sitting safely in the car, I would have collapsed right there. In my past life, Mason had targeted James because my son beat him academically, and Mason wanted to crush him in the pool too. But who was this boy? And why were they doing this to him? I didn’t have time to think. I rushed forward, shouting at the top of my lungs. “Stop! What the hell are you doing?!” Mason looked up, raised an eyebrow, and took a casual step back. “Oh, look, the old dog’s here to protect his pup. Game’s over, boys.” The other two boys jumped back like startled rabbits, refusing to look me in the eye. Even though they had released him, the immense suction held the boy’s face flat against the drain grate. His limbs floated limply. In my past life, James had been trapped exactly like this. I had dove in to save him, but the suction was too strong to fight. By the time the staff turned off the filtration system, the golden window had slammed shut, and my son died in my arms. The blue swimsuit, the medium-cropped hair, the slight build… I kept telling myself James was safe, but my hands shook uncontrollably. Drawing on my grim experience, I screamed at the nearby lifeguard. “What are you standing there for? There’s a kid stuck to the drain! Shut off the filtration system now!” The lifeguard finally snapped out of his daze and scrambled to call the control room. A few agonizing minutes later, I pulled the boy’s limp body from the water. His face was swollen and distorted, completely unrecognizable. He wasn’t breathing, and there was no pulse. Mason stood nearby with his arms crossed, a smug smirk playing on his lips. “Mister, he said he could hold his breath for three minutes. We were just helping him.” “Helping him?!” My vision went red. I slapped him hard across the face. “You call pinning him to a drainage grate helping him?!” Mason clutched his cheek, glaring at me with venom. “It was just a game! Who knew he’d be such a wimp?” “How dare you hit me? Do you know who my mother is? She’ll destroy your whole family!” I knew exactly who his mother was, and it only made me want to tear that arrogant look off his face. His mother had married a useless parasite named Richard, and together they had raised this little monster. “A game? This is murder! Do you understand that?!” The chubby boy beside Mason finally started to look terrified, his voice trembling. “Mason, did we… did we go too far?” Before he could finish, Mason snapped. “Shut up! You were holding him down just as hard!” The third boy burst into tears. “I want to go home…” I ignored them, laying the boy flat on the tile. I began administering CPR, screaming at the staff. “Call an ambulance! Hurry! He might still have a chance!” As I tilted his chin back to give him rescue breaths, I noticed a tiny, dark-red birthmark shaped like a plum blossom behind his ear. Something clicked in my mind, but the thought slipped away before I could grasp it. Just then, Coach Briggs walked in through the side door, exhaling a slow puff of cigarette smoke, accompanied by Richard, Mason’s father. The moment they saw the scene by the pool, the color drained from their faces. “What… what happened here?!” Mason immediately twisted his face into a mask of tearful innocence, running to his father. “Dad! We were just having a breath-holding contest. He said he could do three minutes, but then…” “This is unacceptable!” Coach Briggs went pale. “I’ve told you boys a thousand times, no swimming without a coach present!” “I’m sorry, Dad, I won’t do it again,” Mason whimpered, burying his face in his father’s side, though he cast a malicious smirk at me from the shadows. “But that mister over there hit me!” Richard saw the red handprint on his son’s face and pointed an angry finger at me. “Who the hell do you think you are, putting your hands on my son?” He cast a dismissive glance at the dead boy on the floor. “The kid didn’t follow the rules, and his parents clearly weren’t watching him. You can’t blame anyone else for a tragic accident, right?” In my past life, the security footage showed Mason pushing James into the pool from behind before all three boys dragged him to the drain and held him down. The boy lying here had suffered the exact same fate. I knew the agonizing pain of losing a child. No matter who this boy was, he was innocent. Saving him was the only thing that mattered. I didn’t waste my breath on Richard, continuing my chest compressions while looking at the coach. “Coach Briggs, this happened on your watch. You have a responsibility here. You need to contact this boy’s parents immediately.” 2 Coach Briggs fumbled with his phone, his hands shaking so violently he nearly dropped it. “Yes… yes, of course… I’ll call right away…” A few seconds later, he looked down at the boy’s mangled, swollen face. “But… his face is so swollen, I can’t tell which student he is.” I looked up, thoroughly exasperated. “Then check your roster! See who was supposed to be here today, cross-reference the absences, and look at who’s standing right here!” Mason chimed in, stepping forward. “Don’t bother looking, Coach. I know exactly who it is.” He crouched down next to me, staring at the boy’s face. His voice was quiet, but his words pierced my ears like needles. “It’s James, Mister. Don’t you even recognize your own son?” “You were so dramatic earlier, I thought you knew. Or were you just too scared to face the truth?” My eyes widened as I stared at him. They thought this was James? That was why they had done this? Mason seemed delighted by my shock. Seeing that my hands hadn’t stopped pumping the boy’s chest, he shook his head. “Don’t waste your energy. You’ve been doing CPR for twenty minutes, but he was under for ten. The golden window is long gone. He’s brain-dead.” My hands went limp, and I collapsed onto the cold tiles, my entire body shaking. Was I too late again? In my past life, I couldn’t save my own son. In this life, I couldn’t save this boy either. I glared at Mason. “Why would you do this? Aren’t you afraid of retribution?” “Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” he mocked, clutching his chest dramatically. “What retribution? The law?” “I’m only eleven. Under the law, anyone under fourteen can’t be held criminally responsible.” He was so close I could smell the orange shampoo in his hair. That scent, combined with those exact words, had been the soundtrack to my nightmares in my past life. Looking at his twisted, malicious face, the hatred I had suppressed across two lifetimes boiled over. I grabbed him by the hair and shoved his face toward the water. “You sadistic little monster! I’ll let you taste what it feels like…” Before I could drag him under, Richard slammed his heavy key ring into the side of my head. The metal cut deep into my forehead, and blood began to trickle down my face. I was forced to let go, and Richard quickly pulled Mason behind him. “Are you insane?!” Richard roared. “It was an accident! Why are you taking it out on a child? My son is just a boy, how could he understand the consequences? It was a tragic accident!” “An accident?!” The blood roared in my ears. “Go check the security cameras! Three of them held his head down and forced him into the drain! You call that an accident?!” Richard glanced back at his son, who looked slightly guilty, before slowly pulling a black card from his wallet. “What do you want, justice? Let me tell you something, Mister. Justice in this world depends entirely on who you are and how much you can pay.” He took a step forward, tapping the card against my nose. “Do you know who my son is? His mother is the sole heiress of the Harrington Group.” “And your son? Just a working-class brat. His life isn’t worth ruining my son’s future.” He tossed the card directly at my bleeding forehead. “There’s a hundred grand on this card. The pin is six eights. Take the money, bury your kid, and keep your mouth shut.” “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, or if you call the police, I’ll make sure you and your wife can’t even get jobs sweeping streets in this city.” Mason peeked out from behind his father, sticking his tongue out at me. There wasn’t a trace of fear on his face, only pure, malicious triumph. Coach Briggs, desperate to avoid a scandal, whispered in my ear. “James’s dad, look, it was an accident. Since they’re offering to settle this privately, why don’t we all just take a step back?” Take a step back? I looked at the black card on the floor, then at the cold, lifeless boy, and a bitter laugh escaped my lips. A child’s life was just a transaction to them, negotiated with such casual ease. My eyes fell on the birthmark behind the boy’s ear again, and suddenly, I remembered who he was. If a working-class boy’s life wasn’t enough to bring them down, let’s see how many of their own lives they would have to pay to settle the score for this boy. Mason kept rambling. “Mister, be smart. Money is real. Your kid is dead anyway, you can always just make another one…” I slowly raised my head, my eyes locking onto his arrogant face. “Your mother’s money won’t save you this time.” He tilted his chin up. “Say whatever you want. I won’t get in trouble anyway. My dad said the law protects minors like me.” I gently wiped the water and blood from the dead boy’s face, my finger brushing against the plum-blossom birthmark. Then, I took off my jacket and laid it gently over his body, giving him his last shred of dignity. “Protects you?” I let out a cold, hollow laugh. “Then you’d better pray that the law is the only thing people believe in.” Richard frowned, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ignored him, pulling out my phone to send a single text. Then, I leaned down and whispered into the dead boy’s ear. “Don’t worry, buddy. Your mom is on her way.” With that, I began dialing 911. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Richard demanded, his voice dropping to a threatening register. “I told you, we settle this here and now! If you dare…”

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1 I spent five years trying to become the leading lady in Nolan’s life. The floating comments in my head had warned me from the very beginning. Doesn’t she realize there isn’t a shred of love in his eyes? Don’t be stupid. He only tolerates her because his son needs a mother. Once his first love returns from abroad, all her years of devotion will mean absolutely nothing. But I refused to believe them. Every story had a past, didn’t it? Nolan was attentive, respectful, and always kept clear boundaries. His personal life was as clean as a blank sheet of paper. How could I throw away everything we built just because of a few cynical remarks from unseen onlookers? Later, when he got down on one knee and proposed, the comments finally began to shift in my favor. Yet, that was the exact moment I decided to let go. … I opened the custom wedding invitation Nolan had designed. The gold-embossed font was elegant, bold, and striking. My smile slowly froze on my face. “Who is Giselle?” Nolan went rigid for a fraction of a second, his eyes darting away. “Oh. The designer must have made a mistake.” “I’ll have them reprint a new batch immediately.” If I hadn’t seen that exact name on the list of newly hired instructors at my school, his smooth explanation might have actually convinced me. I picked up the remote and casually switched on the television. “…World-renowned ballerina Giselle has returned to the country to continue her studies. In an exclusive interview, she stated she is currently focusing on her career and has no plans for marriage…” The reporter’s crisp voice filled the quiet living room. The arm Nolan had wrapped tightly around my waist suddenly went limp and slipped away. The floating comments flared up again. Nolan, what are you doing?! Just hearing her name makes you pull away from Gemma? My heart breaks for her. Don’t forget Gemma basically raised your kid and coddled your demanding mother for five years. If you still want Giselle, you are completely heartless! Am I the only one who pities the designer? The male lead gave the wrong name but blamed it on the working class. Was it really a designer’s mistake? Or was it that, in his subconscious, his bride had always been Giselle? I took a deep, quiet breath, forcing a playful smile onto my face as I turned to look at him. “What a coincidence. She shares the same name.” He didn’t answer. His eyes were glued to the television screen. The woman on the screen was elegant, her movements light and ethereal. When the reporter asked her about her college days, a deep, unshakeable sorrow clouded her eyes. “Gemma, should we move the wedding up?” “Next year is going to be incredibly busy at the winery. We have several major international contracts to negotiate, and I might not have the energy to plan a proper wedding then.” There was an intense, pleading look in his eyes, mixed with a complex emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. The chat feed began placing bets. Half of them say he’s doing this just to spite the female lead. The other half say he’s terrified of regretting his choice, so he’s burning his own bridges. Not a single soul believed he actually wanted to marry me. But what if? What if there was a tiny chance? His excuse was perfectly logical, after all. If only he hadn’t deliberately avoided eye contact the moment Giselle’s name came up. I wanted to speak, but a sudden mist blurred my vision. Seeing my silence, a flicker of panic crossed his face. He quickly reached out, grasping my hand to reassure me. “Don’t worry. I promise the wedding will be grand. I won’t let you feel rushed or slighted just because we’re moving the date up.” “Toby already calls you Mom, and my mother gave you the family heirloom emerald bracelet. You are the destined daughter-in-law of this family. Having the wedding a bit earlier is a happy occasion for everyone, isn’t it?” “Are you still upset about the name on the invite? It really was just an accident. Please don’t be mad at me, okay?” The more he spoke, the more defensive he sounded. I almost felt embarrassed for him. One of the comments had put it beautifully: He was never a good liar. I gently pulled my hand from his grip, my expression as sweet and calm as ever. “Whatever you prefer.” The next afternoon, Nolan picked me up after work to try on wedding dresses. “A few new arrivals from Milan just came in. I had them set aside the best ones so you can have first pick.” The moment I slid into the passenger seat, he leaned over naturally to pull my seatbelt across me, clicking it into place. For five long years, he had been this meticulously attentive. The comments always claimed he was like a cold, emotionless robot. I had spent years arguing with them, defending his quiet care. But the moment of truth was finally here. As we neared the boutique, my phone rang. “I’m just one intersection away,” I said into the receiver. “Take your time, don’t rush.” Nolan reached over, taking my hand in his. “Did you invite a friend?” I nodded. “A new colleague from work. She just got back from abroad and has an incredible eye for fashion. I figured she could help me choose.” The floating comments were practically screaming with excitement. The legendary reunion is finally here! The female lead left twelve years ago to pursue her career after having his baby, and now they’re finally going to stand in the same room! I’ll always support Gemma, but for just one second, I really want to see this tragic couple reunite. Does the second female lead know something? Is she testing him on purpose? When Giselle arrived, Nolan was holding my handbag and my discarded coat, looking every bit the devoted, doting fiancé. I smiled warmly as I introduced them. “Nolan, this is Giselle. She just joined our faculty as a ballet instructor. She used to be the principal dancer for an international company.” “And Giselle, this is my fiancé, Nolan. He runs a private winery.” 2 I clenched my fists in my pockets, watching their faces intently, searching for even a flicker of recognition. But there was nothing. They exchanged polite, professional handshakes, greeting each other like complete strangers. My heart made a clean, sharp cracking sound and died. I forced myself behind the heavy velvet curtain to change, pulling the fabric back just a fraction of an inch to peer out. The moment they thought I was out of sight, their polite masks shattered instantly. “I thought you were allergic to caffeine.” “I went through desensitization therapy while I was abroad.” “Ha. Did you approach us on purpose today?” Nolan’s tone was biting, but it couldn’t hide the raw panic bleeding through his voice. “I had no idea you were her fiancé.” “Save it. I will never believe another word that comes out of your mouth.” “If you find this too awkward, tell her I had to leave when she comes out.” “Who do you think you are? Coming and going whenever you please?” Through the gap, I watched as Nolan reached out and grabbed Giselle’s wrist, squeezing it tightly. The veins in his neck were bulging with rage. All of his usual calm, composed dignity had vanished into thin air. “Gemma and I are getting married next month. Don’t you dare try any of your games again.” Giselle began to weep, turning and running out of the boutique. Nolan hesitated for two agonizing seconds before rushing out after her. Almost immediately, my phone buzzed with a text. An emergency came up at the winery. Take a cab home, okay? I looked down at the glowing screen, a bitter smile touching my lips. The harsh, warning words he had hurled at Giselle weren’t a rejection of his old flame. They were the desperate, defensive lashes of a man trying to score a point against the only woman who had ever truly broken him. The comments floated across my vision. Don’t cry, Gemma. You’re beautiful, and you’ll find someone who actually cherishes you. I’m starting to hate the male lead. Both Giselle and Gemma are completely innocent here. This is a total trainwreck. I’m finally old enough to understand both sides of this mess. In the beginning, the comments had been brutal to me. Before Nolan, I had never been in a relationship. A strict upbringing and a demanding academic schedule had molded me into the classic quiet, obedient girl. Even after entering the workforce as a piano teacher, my life remained sheltered and simple. Toby was the student who gave me the most headaches. He couldn’t sit still, had a terrible memory, and his parents were always late to pick him up. The third time I found him sitting alone in the dark corner of the classroom, his stomach rumbling loudly, I decided to take him home with me. I cooked him sweet-and-sour chicken, braised beef, and tomato eggs. He ate like he hadn’t seen food in days. The following week, a tall, elegant man accompanied Toby to class. “Hello, I’m Toby’s father. Thank you for looking after him the other day.” And just like that, Nolan entered my life. Over time, I learned he was thirty-five, a single father, ran a successful wine business, and had been raised by a single mother. He was physically fit, impeccably dressed, and carried himself with a quiet, mature dignity. Falling for him was as natural as breathing. At first, I wasn’t sure if he felt the same way. Until one day, the floating comments appeared before my eyes. Stop dreaming, second female lead. You are not the heroine of this story. Once his first love returns, all your years of devotion will mean absolutely nothing. If the male lead’s mother hadn’t hated the first love so much, they’d have three kids by now. Gemma, listen to me. Don’t rush in just because he seems to like you right now. You’re just a placeholder. Amidst the sea of warnings, I realized one thing: He liked me. If he liked me, what was there to hesitate about? A young girl’s feelings shouldn’t just remain a quiet secret. I began to pursue him, putting myself in his orbit as much as possible. “I found an incredible bakery nearby. We should take Toby there sometime.” “Toby’s piano needs tuning. If you aren’t sure which brand to buy, I can come with you.” “Your mother picked up Toby today and invited me over for dinner. I didn’t say yes immediately because I didn’t want you to feel awkward. Haha.” It was a simple, transparent strategy, and the comments hated me for it. One afternoon, when we took Toby to the amusement park, the insults nearly blinded me. Doesn’t she realize there’s no love in his eyes? What a manipulative woman, using the kid to force the male lead to spend time with her! The second female lead is just a glorified, free nanny. Learn your place. Nolan, reject her already! The female lead is living a lonely, miserable life across the ocean while you’re playing house with another woman! But the tides turned completely after I stood up for Toby at school. Toby had gotten into a fight, and Nolan was away on a business trip in Europe, so I stepped in. I had never been a mother, but I believed a mother should trust her child. I shielded Toby, spent hours track down the school’s security footage, and stood my ground against the aggressive parents of the other kids. She stood up for him in front of the principal without hesitating. That was so cool! I wish I had a mother like her. The other parents kept calling her a stepmother who didn’t care about the kid. She took so much abuse for him! The bullies had nothing left to say, so they teased Toby for not having a mom. Gemma literally brought him lunch to show them he had someone. I’m crying, this is so sweet. It was after that incident, as Nolan drove me home, that he spoke a sentence that changed everything. “Do you want to give us a try?” After a long, breathless pause, I heard my heart hammering against my ribs. “Yes.” 3 So, when I saw Giselle’s name on the new hire list, I decided to take a gamble. She was stunning, elegant, and carried herself with an effortless confidence. She was everything the comments had warned me about—the legendary, unshakeable first love. She actually existed. But then I thought, so what? I had been by Nolan’s side for five years. I went from his son’s piano teacher to his mother’s favorite shopping companion, and finally, a permanent fixture at the family dinner table. We were just one signature away from making it official. Most importantly, Nolan, who was notoriously cold toward women, had been the one to ask me to give us a try. On the day we officially made our relationship public, even the comments that had hated me from the start conceded that my devotion had finally paid off. They said my sincere heart had finally touched him, and that a man as responsible as Nolan would never look back once he made a commitment. I had let those words fill me with a quiet, secret joy for a very long time. When Nolan finally came home that evening, I was in the living room, gently correcting Toby’s finger placement on the piano keys. Nolan held a bouquet of white lilies, a quiet apology on his lips. I didn’t reach out to take them. “Are you still angry?” He leaned down, trying to coax a smile out of me. Toby, sensing the tension, quietly slipped back into his bedroom. My smile felt incredibly stiff and cold. “I’m allergic to lilies.” Nolan rubbed the back of his neck, dismissive. “I just remembered you liked the color. I forgot about the allergy.” “On our anniversary last year, the restaurant you booked was decorated with white lilies. I broke out in hives and had to spend the night in the ER.” “Last month, when I asked you to buy an air purifier, you brought home a lily-scented one. I spent weeks struggling to breathe before I finally had to move back to my own apartment.” Twelve years had passed, yet he remembered with absolute clarity that Giselle was allergic to caffeine. I had been by his side for five years, and he couldn’t even remember the flower that sent me to the hospital. The difference between love and tolerance was staggering. I didn’t acknowledge his empty apology. I quietly packed my things into my bag and walked toward the front door. “Don’t be mad, Gemma. I promise I won’t buy the wrong flowers next time.” “And about today… leaving you at the bridal shop was my fault. Next time, even if you try on a hundred dresses, I’ll sit right there and watch you. Okay?” He took me by the shoulders, his eyes wide and seemingly sincere. It was always the same script. I had spent years waiting for those “next times,” watching my hope slowly curdle into complete numbness. “There won’t be a next time, Nolan. Here are your keys.” I kicked off my slippers, slipped into my heels, and placed the house keys gently on the shoe cabinet. His polished composure finally cracked, a flash of irritation breaking through. “Gemma, is this really necessary? You’ve always been so reasonable. Are you really going to pick a massive fight over such a trivial thing?” Missing my high school reunion because he didn’t want to socialize was a trivial thing. Skipping our wedding photos because he hated the hassle of hair and makeup was a trivial thing. And now, putting his first love’s name on our invitations and abandoning his bride-to-be to chase her down was also a trivial thing. What, then, was a significant thing? As the comments had so brutally pointed out: When a man doesn’t love you, you could hang yourself from the ceiling and he’d just think you were playing on a swing. I looked up, locking eyes with him. “I heard you two in the dressing room.” “What?” “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Giselle? The bride’s name on our invitation belonged to your first love.” His entire body went rigid, and he slowly lowered his head, unable to speak. The cards were finally on the table. And he had absolutely nothing to play. Even though I was the official fiancé, in the grand narrative of his life, the first love was an invincible force. My logical mind told me to run from a man who couldn’t choose, but a small, desperate part of me wanted to wait just a little longer. What if? That was why I had set up their meeting today. I needed to see it with my own eyes so I could finally kill the hope inside me. Otherwise, I would have walked away looking graceful, only to torture myself with endless “what-ifs” later. I walked out of the apartment and pressed the button for the elevator. The numbers ticked up slowly. 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… It would take a while to reach the twenty-third floor. But the door behind me remained firmly shut. No one ran out to stop me. For a single, fleeting second, I had thought that if he ran out and gave me even a half-decent explanation, I would have forced myself to believe it. The comment feed erupted into a frenzy. Gemma, don’t cry! We’ll find someone a million times better! Nolan is just prideful and slow to open up. He doesn’t want you to leave, but chasing you down would look desperate, and that’s just not who he is. You’ve held on for so long, why not give it one more shot? In a choice between two women, the one who stays is always the one who ends up suffering. I cleared out every single one of my belongings from Nolan’s apartment. During the day, I went to work and taught my classes as if nothing had happened. At night, I sat in my empty apartment, reading through our old text messages and crying until my chest ached. When I finally decided to pour myself a glass of wine to dull the pain, I realized my rack was filled entirely with bottles Nolan had gifted me over the years. The sight only made the tears flow faster. From now on, if I wanted a drink, I would have to buy it myself. Ironically, Nolan, who had always been so distant, began texting me every single day. It’s raining today. Remember to bring an umbrella. I ordered your favorite hot pot. It should arrive at your place soon. Gemma, those are all things of the past. You haven’t visited in days, and Toby really misses you. That last text struck a nerve with the comments. He’s just using the kid as leverage because he’s losing his free nanny! Block him! Delete his number! True moving on starts with physical boundaries. Cut him off! But I didn’t block him.

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