On my eighteenth birthday, I found out I was switched at birth. I thought, That’s great. Now I get to have two families. But when the four parents sat down for a family meeting, they unanimously decided to pour all their love into Chloe. My biological parents said they had raised her for eighteen years and couldn’t bear to let her go. My adoptive parents said she had suffered out in the world, and they needed to make up for lost time. And me? No one mentioned me. Later, they realized Chloe’s birthday was also today. They decided on the spot to throw a joint birthday party. My adoptive parents bought her eighteen presents, saying it was to compensate for eighteen years of missed love. My biological parents also bought her eighteen presents, saying it was to commemorate the eighteen years they had spent together. Thirty-six gifts covered the table. In front of me was a single bowl of birthday noodles. As the party was winding down, I asked quietly: “So tonight, which house am I going to?” My biological mom looked down and continued cutting the cake. My adoptive mom’s smile faltered for a second. “You’ve never been a kid we had to worry about. Mom knows you can take care of yourself.” I smiled and nodded. “Okay.” Looking down at the college acceptance letter in my hand, I silently made my eighteenth birthday wish: I wish that from this day forward, I never look back. … The moment the wish crossed my mind, the windows of the banquet hall lit up with a flash of lightning. Thunder rolled, and a heavy midsummer rain began to smash against the glass, quickly blurring the world outside. My adoptive mom, Mrs. Miller, was helping Chloe unbox her last gift. It was a dress. She held it up against Chloe, smiling as she said it was a perfect fit. My biological mom, Mrs. Sullivan, walked over with the cake, reminding them to take pictures before the frosting melted. Mr. Miller and Mr. Sullivan were arguing over how to adjust the lighting. The four of them were so busy that no one even glanced my way. My birthday noodles were cold. A thin layer of grease had congealed on the surface of the broth. As I put my fork down, Mrs. Miller seemed to look in my direction. I waited for two seconds, but she just looked past me, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Chloe’s ear. “Let’s have you stay at the Miller house tonight,” Mrs. Miller said, holding Chloe’s hand. “We have a room all set up for you. Get a feel for the place.” Mrs. Sullivan immediately protested: “She had a huge shock today. She should stay where she’s comfortable. There will be plenty of time to visit the Miller house later.” “But we just got her back,” Mr. Miller argued. “And we raised her for eighteen years.” They were fighting over whose roof Chloe would sleep under. No one had answered the question I asked earlier. Chloe peeked out from the crowd of parents, her lips parting. “Should Maya…” “Chloe, look at the camera,” Mr. Miller called her back. “Let’s get one with all four moms and dads and Chloe first.” I picked up my college acceptance letter and walked out of the banquet hall. The only umbrella left in the entryway stand was a broken black one. A server asked if I wanted to wait for the rain to let up. Through the glass doors, I could see the five of them already huddled close together. The camera flash went off. I pushed the doors open and walked into the rain. The downpour soaked my white dress almost instantly. I hugged my acceptance letter to my chest, but the edges still got wet. I didn’t go to the Miller house. Nor did I go to the Sullivan house, whose address I had just learned. Instead, I took the last bus to a 24-hour study lounge near my high school. For the second half of my eighteenth birthday, I bought the cheapest overnight seat available. The fluorescent lights above my desk were blindingly bright. The AC blasted cold air, making my wet clothes cling to my back. When I turned on my phone, a new group chat popped up. The name of the group was “Our Family.” Six people. Everyone was there. There were already over forty messages in the chat. Videos of Chloe opening presents. Photos of her being fed cake by both mothers simultaneously. Shots of the two fathers fighting over who got to carry her bags. One after another. No one asked where I was. At 1:00 AM, Chloe sent a message: “Did Maya get home okay?” Mrs. Miller replied first: “The Sullivans probably picked her up. She’s always been responsible.” Mrs. Sullivan chimed in a few minutes later: “I thought she went back with the Millers. But Maya is mature, we don’t need to worry.” I tapped the text box and typed: “I didn’t go back.” My finger hovered over the send button for a long time. Eventually, I deleted it, letter by letter. Right then, a notification popped up from the college freshman group. The university was looking for early-arrival volunteers to help with freshman orientation. Approved volunteers could move into the temporary dorms early. I filled out the application and moved my move-in date forward by seven days. Seven days. Enough time to get my IDs, pack my bags, and see what was really left of the past eighteen years. It wasn’t until 9:00 AM the next morning that Mrs. Miller finally called. “Where on earth did you go last night? If you weren’t coming home, you should have at least said something in the group chat.” I stared out the window at the puddles left by the overnight storm, slowly slipping my acceptance letter back into its folder. “But I didn’t know which home I was supposed to go to.” The line went dead silent. An hour later, all four of them showed up at the study lounge. Mr. Miller pushed the door open first. Seeing me sitting safely at a desk, his face darkened. “Your phone works, so why didn’t you say anything? Do you have any idea how long everyone has been looking for you?” “What time did you start looking?” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The receptionist at the front desk answered for me: “This student checked in at 11:42 PM last night. You guys didn’t call to ask about her until 9:20 this morning, right?” The anger on Mr. Miller’s face froze. Mrs. Sullivan walked over, reaching out to touch my damp hair. I tilted my head away. Her hand hung in the air awkwardly before she pulled my jacket up over the back of my chair instead. “We just assumed the Millers would take care of you,” she said, her voice tight. “After all, they raised you for eighteen years.” Mrs. Miller immediately fired back: “Maya is your biological daughter. After finding out the truth last night, she should have gone home with you to see the place.” “All her belongings are at your house. Of course she should go back to a familiar place first.” The two mothers argued, their voices growing sharper. One grabbed my left hand, the other grabbed my right wrist. They were both talking about how much they couldn’t bear to let go. They both wanted to prove they weren’t heartless. Yet neither of them actually wanted to take me home. I pulled my hands free. “Let me check out first.” Faced with a logistical task, they all quieted down. The receptionist refunded me twenty-seven dollars. As I dropped the coins into my backpack, Chloe ran in through the front doors. “Maya, I’m so sorry.” She stopped two steps away. “Last night, they just kept talking to me, and I didn’t realize you weren’t there until right before bed. I asked in the group chat, but I…” She glanced back at the four parents and swallowed the rest of her sentence. “This isn’t your fault,” I said. She didn’t look relieved. She just looked down, gripping the hem of her skirt. To sweep the whole incident under the rug, Mr. Miller proposed a seven-day “Family Bonding Week.” Mr. Sullivan immediately agreed, saying both daughters needed time to get to know both families. The two mothers pulled out their phones, showing me the itineraries for attractions and restaurants they had already put together. “This time, no one gets left behind,” Mrs. Miller promised. My phone buzzed in my hand. It was an email from the university. My early move-in application was approved. The date was exactly seven days from now. I dismissed the notification and simply said, “I have plans in seven days.” Mrs. Miller smiled. “We’ll buy everything you need for college. Right now, you just need to sort out things with the family. Don’t always try to shoulder everything alone.” That sentence made me hesitate for a fraction of a second. When I was little, before every field trip, Mrs. Miller would always check my backpack the night before. Band-aids in the inner pocket, water bottle in the side mesh, reminding me twice that it might rain the next day. That care wasn’t fake. I almost believed her. I almost believed she was just temporarily blinded by the sudden appearance of her biological daughter. Until I scrolled to the booking confirmation page on her itinerary: Amusement park fast passes: 5. Historic town admission tickets: 5. Hotel breakfast packages: 2 double rooms, plus 1 single breakfast. Restaurant reservations: Note says “Party of 5.” Shuttle service: 5-seater car. The booking time was 12:17 AM last night. The exact time I was sitting in the furthest corner of this study lounge, shivering in wet clothes. “Who made this itinerary?” I asked. Mr. Sullivan took the phone. “Mr. Miller and I booked it together. We thought you didn’t like crowds, but you changed your mind, right?” He quickly swiped back to the home page. The title was indeed “6-Person Family Bonding Week.” But the edit history was still visible. The original title was just one line: Parents’ Compensation Week for Chloe. “We’ll add your spot tomorrow,” Mr. Miller said, pocketing the phone. “Adding one person last minute is easy. There’s no need to fixate on the wording.” “Then add it now.” His finger paused. “The ticketing systems are down for maintenance. We’ll do it in the morning.” I didn’t say another word. When I went back to the Miller house to grab my IDs, I printed out that itinerary. I took a pen and drew a circle next to the date of the final day. Inside the circle, I wrote one word. Leave. The next morning, the hotel receptionist checked the system three times. It was still only a 5-person package. Mrs. Miller turned to look at me, saying out of habit, “Maya, why didn’t you double-check this last night?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she caught herself. I didn’t book this trip. But for the past eighteen years, I was the one who always checked the tickets, the room keys, the IDs, and the packing lists for our family vacations. Whenever anything went wrong, everyone’s first reaction was to ask why I hadn’t caught it sooner. “I’ll buy an extra breakfast,” I said, handing my ID to the receptionist. Chloe pulled out her meal voucher. “Maya, use mine. I’m not that hungry.” Mrs. Sullivan grabbed her hand. “You barely ate last night. You can’t starve yourself. Today is your first breakfast with both sets of parents. Don’t shortchange yourself.” Mrs. Miller already had her Apple Pay open, but the hotel informed her that individual breakfasts could only be purchased by the registered guest. I paid the sixty-eight dollars myself. The table by the window only had five place settings. A waiter hurriedly squeezed an extra chair in. I sat on the edge of the aisle, having to turn sideways every time someone walked past. By noon at the amusement park, there were still only five fast passes. Mr. Miller said the regular lines weren’t that long anyway and suggested I go check out other rides first. Mr. Sullivan chimed in, saying today was mainly about making up for the fact that Chloe had never gone to a theme park with her biological parents when she was little. “We’ll do the next ride, all six of us together,” he promised. The VIP entrance opened, and the four parents ushered Chloe inside. Chloe looked back, trying to rip off her wristband, but a staff member warned her that tampering with it would void the pass. I stood in the standby line, listening to the PA system announce a ninety-minute wait. By the time I exited the ride, there were over twenty new photos in the group chat. Five people wearing matching cartoon ear headbands, posing in front of the colorful castle. Mr. Miller saw me and waved, holding out his phone. “Maya, perfect timing. Take a picture of us, the whole family.” Chloe refused to take the balloon he offered her. “But Maya isn’t in the picture.” Mr. Miller’s smile faded slightly. “We have the formal family portrait scheduled at the studio later, don’t we? Let’s just get some natural ones for now. Maya has a great eye, she takes better photos than a random stranger.” I took the phone. Through the viewfinder, the five of them quickly got into position. The two mothers leaned in on either side of Chloe. The two fathers stood in the back. No one seemed to feel like anything was missing. I snapped the photo, handed the phone back, and didn’t bother offering to take another one. On the second day, at a nostalgic photoshoot location, the four of them took turns sharing stories about how Chloe learned to walk, or how nervous she was before her first school play. On the third day, at the historic town, a waiter looked at the five of them squeezed onto one side of the table and me sitting alone with all the bags. He smiled and asked, “Family of five on vacation?” Both mothers looked up simultaneously. I gripped my water glass, waiting for them to correct him. Mrs. Sullivan focused on picking fish bones onto a spare plate. Mrs. Miller was busy rolling up Chloe’s sleeves so they wouldn’t dip into her soup. Those two seconds passed. Neither of them said a word. “All six entrees are out,” the waiter said, counting heads and awkwardly correcting himself. I finished my water, but my throat still felt tight. For the second half of the trip, the ticket stubs, souvenir stamps, portable chargers, and everything the four of them bought on a whim were piled onto me, just like always. I sorted them all out, but I stopped putting them in my own suitcase. On the afternoon of the fifth day, as we passed a train station, I excused myself for thirty minutes to “pick up tickets.” I put my IDs, my clothes, and my college enrollment documents into a secure storage locker. In the past, whenever we traveled, I always carried extra medicine and sewing kits, terrified someone might need something at the last minute. This time, I only kept one small suitcase for myself. The university sent an email confirming my dorm bed was ready. I bought a train ticket for 4:20 PM on the seventh day. The boarding time was exactly fifteen minutes before the family portrait session was scheduled to end. When the photography studio called to confirm the headcount, Mrs. Miller was about to say “five,” but Chloe snatched the phone. “Six people,” she said, looking right at me. “Please prepare six chairs and six outfits.” The staff agreed. That night, I didn’t cancel my train ticket. I just set an alarm ten minutes later, giving that six-person family portrait one final chance. On the afternoon of the seventh day, we arrived at the photography studio. I had retrieved my suitcase from the station locker and dragged it all the way to the studio. The wheels clattered loudly over the tile floors. Mr. Miller glanced back and casually draped Chloe’s garment bag over my suitcase handle. “Why did you pack so much? You should have told the driver to carry it.” “It is pretty heavy,” I said. He had already turned back to help Chloe lift the hem of her dress. He didn’t ask what was inside the suitcase. Seeing me holding the itinerary and carrying Chloe’s bag, a staff member handed me a storage tag. “Assistant belongings go in the corner, keep them out of frame.” I didn’t explain. I just set the bag down. The four parents and Chloe changed into the light gray outfits they had picked out beforehand. The two mothers wore similarly tailored dresses. The two fathers wore matching ties. Chloe stood in the middle, her dress adorned with delicate pearls. No one had told me there was a fitting. I was still wearing the white button-down and jeans I had put on that morning. When Mrs. Miller came out of the dressing room and saw what I was wearing, a flash of annoyance crossed her face. She rummaged through a rack of clothes, pulled out a spare silk scarf, and handed it to me. “Tie this on for now, at least the color will match. Why didn’t you remind me?” The scarf was soft. It was the color she used to always pick out for me. I took it, briefly thinking that maybe, if they genuinely saved that chair for me, matching outfits didn’t matter. But she only got halfway through tying it before Mrs. Sullivan called out from the set: “Hurry! There’s an empty spot next to Chloe.” Mrs. Miller’s hands dropped immediately. The scarf was only draped around my neck, hanging loosely over my chest. She promised to fix it in a minute, then hurried into the studio lights. Six chairs were lined up in a row. Chloe was seated dead center. The two mothers sat on either side of her. The two fathers stood in the back row. The remaining chair was pushed to the very edge, holding a bouquet of flowers that no one was holding yet. The photographer looked at his clipboard. “Where does the last person stand?” Mrs. Miller, as if finally remembering I existed, waved me over. I took one step forward, but she shoved her phone into my hands. “Maya, you have a good eye. Check the composition for us. Let’s grab some behind-the-scenes shots before the formal ones.” I stopped just outside the frame. Through the viewfinder, the five of them were huddled close together. That extra chair sat stark white under the studio lights. Glaringly empty. I pressed the shutter once. Chloe stood up from her chair. “Maya, come in. We can do behind-the-scenes shots with all six of us.” Mr. Miller checked his watch and gently pushed her back down. “Let’s just get a natural one first, while everyone’s energy is good. We’ll do the six-person shot after. It’s not like Maya is going anywhere.” My phone buzzed against my palm. A notification from the station: Boarding has commenced. I closed the camera app and handed the Bluetooth remote to the photographer. “No need to take it.” I took off the loosely tied silk scarf, folded it neatly, and placed it on the empty chair. Mrs. Miller frowned. “Don’t throw a tantrum now. Don’t make everyone wait for you.” Mr. Sullivan didn’t leave his spot under the lights, just looked at me from afar. “Family matters can be discussed at home. Let’s finish the pictures first.” The photographer’s hand was still hovering over the countdown button. I walked to the corner and grabbed my suitcase. Chloe called out my name. I didn’t stop. The wheels of my suitcase bumped over the studio threshold with a heavy thud. The studio lights flared brightly behind me. The photographer watched me walk away and asked hesitantly: “Your other daughter just left. Are we still taking this family portrait?”

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In our six years of dating, my wife, Elena, had never prepared a birthday gift for me. This year, however, she had a claw machine delivered to our apartment. I was so busy signing for the delivery that I didn’t notice her stiff, awkward expression. “This is so creative! What made you suddenly decide to get me a gift?” Elena forced a smile but didn’t say a word. I eagerly stepped up to play, but she frantically tried to stop me. “Noah will be here soon. Let’s play it later.” Noah was my childhood best friend. We shared the same birthday, and for over a decade, we had celebrated together almost every year. I gave her a puzzled look but didn’t stop what I was doing. “It’s fine. Noah isn’t an outsider.” The claw machine glowed with pink lights, and I grabbed my first mystery box. I tore it open. Inside was a dazzling diamond ring. My ears turned red. I quickly grabbed the second box. Inside was a massage coupon. 【A 60-minute full-body massage for my darling husband.】 I smiled and maneuvered the claw to grab a third box. Inside was a simple piece of paper. 【A maid outfit for my baby, Noah.】 I stared at the name “Noah.” My mind exploded. This surprise birthday gift wasn’t meant for me. The “outsider” wasn’t Noah. It was me. … The claw machine’s lights were still flashing. I stood frozen. Elena saw the piece of paper in my hand, and the color drained from her face. “Julian, let me explain.” I looked up at her, my movements mechanical and numb. She avoided my eyes. “The seller must have messed up the order…” My hand clenched into a fist. The diamond ring dug painfully into my palm. “Is that right? Then call the seller right now. Put it on speaker.” Elena didn’t move. She lowered her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “Julian, you’re being ridiculous.” The digital lock on the front door beeped, and Noah walked in. He was carrying a cake, a warm smile on his face. “Happy birthday, Jules!” He immediately sensed the suffocating tension in the room. “What’s going on? It’s the birthday boy’s big day, who’s giving him a hard time?” Noah shot Elena a half-smile, his tone incredibly intimate. “Elena, how many times do I have to tell you? Don’t take advantage of Julian just because he’s a nice guy…” My composure completely collapsed in a split second. My face was devoid of emotion as I hurled the items in my hand violently at Noah. He looked stunned. Then he looked down at the diamond ring lying by his shoes, and the piece of paper fluttering to the floor. The cake slipped from his hands and splattered across the hardwood. Noah’s face went a shade paler. “Jules, it’s not what you think, I…” Before he could even attempt an excuse, Elena stepped in front of him, shielding him with her body. Her voice turned ice-cold. “Julian, if you have a problem, take it out on me. Don’t take your anger out on Noah.” My chest throbbed with a sickening, rhythmic pain. I took a deep breath, squeezing the words out of my throat. “How long has this been going on?” Noah gritted his teeth, shaking his head frantically. But Elena grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers in a grip that brooked no argument. “It started three years ago. It was an accident. I didn’t want to hide it from you, but Noah refused to hurt you.” “Julian, I’ve wanted to end things for a long time. You’re just… too complacent.” My eyes widened. I started shaking uncontrollably. Three years. For three years, Elena had refused to let me touch her. Even our kisses had become passionless and dismissive. I tried to talk about it, but she always used work stress as an excuse. It turned out she was just “saving” herself for Noah. Elena always said she was busy, so I learned to get used to being alone. I got used to her working late and taking endless business trips. Even when I got into a car accident and was rushed to the ER, she just casually said, “Well, at least you’re okay.” My endless understanding and compromise had only earned me the label of being “too complacent.” Noah’s lips were pressed into a tight line. He looked terrible. “Elena, stop it!” Elena gripped his shirt, her eyes turning red. “Noah, don’t blame me. I didn’t put the wrong shipping address on purpose. This is fate.” “I’m so sick of this! I can’t hide it anymore!” My stomach cramped violently. I doubled over, unable to bear the pain. But Elena didn’t even spare me a glance. Her fingers still tightly intertwined with Noah’s, she pulled him toward the door. “Noah, it’s your birthday today. You are not allowed to be sad. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.” But it was my birthday, too. The door clicked shut. I collapsed onto the floor, utterly drained of strength. The apartment was dead silent. The only sound was my own ragged breathing. I managed to fumble for my stomach medication, swallowed a pill dry, and fell into a delirious sleep. When I woke up, the algorithm on my phone recommended an ad for claw machines. I clicked on it by mistake. The top-rated, pinned review was from Elena. 【The product is great. It bought me my good luck. Everything is finally back on track.】 【I ordered a new one for my baby hubby. He’s finally stopped giving me the cold shoulder.】 The attached photo was of Noah looking out a window. It was taken at a high-end restaurant with a view of the river. Fireworks exploded in the night sky. On the table sat a massive bouquet of champagne roses and a cake. It’s true what they say. If someone truly cares, you never have to teach them how. I squeezed my eyes shut. I just felt an overwhelming sense of apathy. Early the next morning, a knock on the door woke me up. It was the claw machine company’s retrieval team, coming to process a return. Maybe I looked unusually pale, because the technician couldn’t help but stare at me. “Are you alright, sir? Sorry to bother you. The customer said she put a lot of thought into the machine for a surprise for her lover, and requested we retrieve the defective unit immediately.” “I’m fine. Go ahead.” They had barely hauled the machine away when Noah called me. “Bro, I got so trashed last night. Let’s meet up at our usual spot. We need a bowl of that coconut chicken soup to cure this hangover…” It was our tradition. That coconut chicken place near our old college campus—we had been there countless times. Every time we had a hangover, we’d go there the next day. Before I could speak, Elena snatched the phone. “Julian, he was in a bad mood last night and drank too much.” She paused for a second. “Is your stomach feeling better?” “Look, Noah didn’t do it out of malice. We couldn’t help how we felt. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship. Can you please just…” I hung up before she could finish. That evening, I forced myself to go out. A friend had bought a new house and invited everyone over for a housewarming party. When I got there, I realized Elena and Noah were both there. Of course they were. The host was a mutual friend. The AC in the house was blasting. Right after I walked in, Elena sneezed. I instinctively started taking off my jacket, but I froze midway, my movements halting. Noah very naturally draped his own jacket over her shoulders. No one noticed the exchange. Our friend punched me lightly on the shoulder, feigning a complaint. “Jules, took you long enough! Your wife’s been here for ages. What’s going on with you two? Having a fight?” My tone was perfectly even. “We didn’t fight. We broke up.” The room went instantly silent. Everyone’s shocked gazes shifted to Elena and Noah. Noah looked down, clearly embarrassed and humiliated. Elena calmly explained. “It’s true. Julian and I broke up a long time ago. The man I love now is Noah.” Our friend looked stunned, and a hint of anger crept into his voice. “Elena, what kind of sick joke is this? What do you mean ‘a long time ago’?” “Jules was just talking to me last month about proposing. You…” I grabbed my friend’s arm. He stopped talking, but shot them a look of pure disgust. The atmosphere for the rest of the night was incredibly tense. I left early. Elena chased me out and stopped me. “Julian, did you really have to humiliate Noah like that?” “Colluding with your friends to embarrass him in front of everyone? Do you have any idea how much that hurts him?” She looked at me with absolute contempt. “Post something on your socials right now. Tell everyone we broke up ages ago. Don’t try to pin the ‘homewrecker’ label on Noah!” My gaze swept coldly over her, then to the figure hovering in the distance. “Isn’t he?” “No, he isn’t!” Elena snapped at me, her eyes filled with disappointment. “Noah has constantly prioritized your feelings. And how do you treat him?” “He always sacrifices his own happiness to take care of you. Do you think you’re some kind of royalty? Noah deserves to be loved far more than you do!” I zoned out for a second. Noah was my neighbor growing up. When he was ten, an accident took both his parents. His relatives abandoned him. My mom took pity on him and brought him into our home. We practically grew up together. Since we were kids, whatever I had, he had too. It wasn’t my fault he always felt like a burden and acted overly cautious. I never imagined that when we grew up, I’d have to share my partner with him too. I calmly found my voice again. “Think whatever you want, Elena. I’m not the one who did something wrong. I won’t apologize, and I won’t explain a single word for either of you.” I ignored her and got into my car. In the rearview mirror, Noah pulled Elena into his arms. Her shoulders were shaking. Love often feels like a debt. Elena was probably feeling sorry for Noah. I gave a self-deprecating laugh. When I shared things with Noah in the past, I never expected to get them back. Walking away from the wrong person now was no big deal. I just… needed a little time. I went to work as usual the next day to hand in my resignation. The HR intern, a kid from a wealthy family, looked at me hesitantly. “Bro, you finally found out?” I was confused. “Found out what?” “You seriously didn’t know? Aren’t you quitting because you broke up with the CEO?” She looked surprised, leaning in to whisper. “It’s about the ninth floor. Everyone knows. No one is allowed on the ninth floor because it’s Secretary Noah’s private lounge.” “Ms. Elena specifically ordered that no one was allowed to tell you.” She was talking about Noah. Elena absolutely loathed nepotism. Yet when I joined the company, she openly acknowledged our relationship. She also had no problem chewing me out in front of the entire office over a mistake in a proposal. But now, she was unapologetically flaunting her favoritism for Noah in front of the whole company. She never gave my feelings a second thought. She made me play the clown in their little romance, right under everyone’s noses. Noah hadn’t had much luck with jobs after graduation. He was arrogant and hopped from job to job. I frequently sent him money to help him out. Then one day, he told me: “Jules, I passed the interview at your company! We’re gonna be working together!” He didn’t have much experience, and Elena’s standards for a secretary were high. But I was too busy being happy for him to think much of it at the time. Looking back, Elena had broken her own rules for him. I took the stairs to the ninth floor. I punched in Noah’s birthday on the digital lock, and the door clicked open. The faint smell of coffee filled the air. Morning light poured through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, gleaming on the hardwood floors. A huge framed photo hung on the wall. A wedding portrait. Elena and Noah stood with their foreheads resting against each other, smiling, their eyes shining with happiness. My breath hitched. This wasn’t just Noah’s private lounge. This was their home. All those nights Elena stayed at the office “working late,” she was probably right here with him. “Meow.” A cat darted out from nowhere and tilted its head at me. I looked down and hurriedly stumbled backward. Elena loved cats, but I was severely allergic to them. I used to feel guilty about it, but she would earnestly tell me: “It’s just a cat, Julian. You are the most important thing in my life.” The cat wasn’t scared of strangers. It happily chased after my feet, rubbing against my ankles. I turned to leave. “Jules!” Noah walked out from an inner room and grabbed my arm in a death grip. “I’ve thought a lot about this over the past few days. You have to listen to me…” “I know you’re angry, but I genuinely hope you can give us your blessing!” My throat constricted. My voice shook. “Let go!” “No, Jules. You’re the most important brother I have. The past few days have been torture…” My chest tightened. I couldn’t breathe. I violently yanked my arm away. Noah stumbled backward, hit a low cabinet, and nearly fell. That was the exact moment Elena arrived. There were cameras on the ninth floor. The second she saw I was there, she came running. “Noah!” Elena pushed past me, anxiously catching him. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He shook his head, his eyes a little red. Elena’s face went completely cold as she shot a glacial glare at me. “How far do you have to push him before you’re satisfied?” I coughed violently, unable to speak. She noticed something was wrong immediately, but she didn’t care. “Look, Julian, we were never meant to be.” “I love cats. I’ve always wanted a cat. And you happen to be severely allergic.” I froze. Six years ago, when she confessed her feelings to me, Elena had sworn: “Julian, our names sound so perfect together. We’re soulmates.” My breathing was becoming labored. I couldn’t think about it anymore. I reached for my phone to call 911, but my hands wouldn’t cooperate. My phone slipped from my grasp, hitting the floor and shattering the screen. I couldn’t stand anymore. I collapsed onto the floor, completely devoid of strength. Noah frantically pulled out his phone to call 911. But Elena stopped him. “Wait.” She looked down at me, her voice terrifyingly soft. “Julian, promise Noah you forgive him. Promise you’ll give us your blessing…” “And I’ll call an ambulance for you right now.” Elena’s words cut through the ringing in my ears, slamming into my heart like a sledgehammer. To them, my forgiveness and blessing were more important than my life. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the sheer terror erupting in Elena’s eyes. “Julian!” When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. The room was quiet. I could hear the doctor sternly reprimanding someone at the door. “How are you looking after the patient?! With an allergy this severe, he shouldn’t even be within fifty feet of a cat!” Elena’s voice was hoarse. “I’m not family. We’re just friends.” “I never brought him anywhere near cats before. I didn’t realize it would be this bad…” She was wrong. She, Noah, and I weren’t friends anymore. We had nothing to do with each other for the rest of our lives. And I had told Elena that when I was a kid, a cat allergy nearly killed me. That was the first time I ever saw her cry. She told me she was terrified of losing me. Her past devotion was real. Just as her current disregard, born from faded love, was also real. The hospital room door opened. I didn’t want to talk, so I closed my eyes and pretended I was still unconscious. “Noah, go inside. I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Elena sounded exhausted. Noah agreed. He sat down in the chair next to my bed. “I’m sorry, Jules. I’m really sorry. I never meant to take anything from you…” “But I was just so starved for love. Elena was so good to me. She loved me, and I couldn’t push her away.” Since I didn’t wake up, he finally found the courage to confess how it all started. While I was on a business trip overseas, a stalker followed Elena. She couldn’t reach me, so she called Noah. They had never told me about this. “Jules, you didn’t know anything. Elena was terrified that day. The guy was practically glued to her. She was crying so hard her eyes were swollen. She was losing her mind.” “I beat the guy until his face was covered in blood. I almost went to jail.” “Elena was so scared after that, so I went over every day to stay with her. I had to sleep in the same bed with her just so she could feel safe enough to fall asleep.” Noah let out a helpless chuckle. “You see? It’s fate. You can’t blame anyone. You can only blame yourself.” “Blame yourself for not protecting her. Blame yourself for not being there when she needed you most.” “Oh, by the way, Elena’s pregnant. You used to say you wanted to be the godfather to my kids.” “You always let me have my way when we were kids. Just let me have this one last thing.” After Noah left, I slowly opened my eyes. My throat was too dry and painful to speak, so I sent a text message instead. 【I booked a flight to London for the day after tomorrow. I’ll see you then.】 I was discharged the next day. I went home to pack while the apartment was empty. My body still hadn’t fully recovered, so I lugged my suitcases into a taxi and booked a hotel near the airport for the night. I had just checked in. My phone suddenly started vibrating non-stop. It was Elena. She was finally calling. My finger hovered over the screen for a long time. Finally, I pressed the button.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574812”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My fiancé and my best friend were million-dollar, top-tier attorneys at a prestigious law firm. I was the receptionist. In the courtroom, they were of one mind. They traded sharp, witty banter, perfectly in sync, dominating every trial. In their personal lives, their synchronicity was just as flawless. They flirted using obscure legal statutes and shared inside jokes only the two of them understood. I could never get a word in edgewise. My only option was to awkwardly chuckle along whenever they laughed. It was like this even at my own father’s funeral. They were deep in an animated conversation, completely engrossed, and actually laughed out loud right in front of my father’s memorial portrait. “Julian,” I called out to him. “It’s time for you to carry the urn.” I was an only child. In my family’s tradition, when there were no sons, the son-in-law was supposed to bear the responsibility of carrying the ashes to the grave. I anxiously pulled at Julian’s sleeve to bring him to the front, but he just patted me on the head like a child. “Stop fussing. Just wait until Chloe and I finish discussing this.” My best friend, Chloe, offered a condescendingly soft smile to placate me: “Anyone can carry it, Maya. It’s just a funeral. Your dad is already gone, who really cares anyway?” And with that, the two of them dove right back into debating legal precedents. They got so heated and excited that they almost decided to leave the funeral right then and there to go back to the firm and check a case file. I stood at the front of the hall, utterly humiliated, my hands frozen in the air where they had reached for him. In our three years together, I had been cast aside like this countless times. Gritting my teeth, I picked up the ceremonial clay basin and smashed it on the floor myself. The sharp crack echoed through the silent funeral hall. Julian and Chloe paused for a fraction of a second, then seamlessly resumed their conversation as if nothing had happened. Looking at the funeral registry where Julian’s name was listed under “Son-in-Law,” I felt a sudden, bitter wave of irony. This hollow, meaningless relationship… it was time to end it. … Seeing the embarrassment and pain on my mother’s face, I still reached out and grabbed Julian’s arm. “For my mom’s sake, can you at least wait until the service is actually over before you leave?” He didn’t even look at me. He was too busy helping Chloe into her coat. “Be good. This case is crucial. I’ll make it up to you later.” Make it up to me? When he forgot my birthday and went to look at the city skyline with Chloe instead, he said he’d make it up to me. When I was having an emergency appendectomy, and he abandoned me at the hospital to celebrate winning a mock trial competition with Chloe, he said he’d make it up to me. And now, when I had just lost my father and needed him more than ever, he was still using that same tired excuse to brush me off. In three years of dating, I had collected a mountain of his verbal “IOUs.” Not a single one had ever been cashed in. Chloe shot me a look laced with pity. “Never mind, Julian. Let’s just stay and keep Maya company. We can head back after it’s over.” Julian sighed, offering her an indulgent, affectionate look of surrender, and finally agreed to stay. He compromised. But for whose sake? The answer was agonizingly obvious. A dead silence hung over the hall for three seconds. Suddenly, the heavy front doors were kicked violently open. The wind whipped funeral paper and flower petals everywhere. “You the ones trying to sue our boss?! That old bastard died in an accidental car crash, stop trying to extort us!” “Drop the lawsuit if you know what’s good for you!” Seven or eight men in muscle shirts swarmed in and started trashing the memorial hall. They flipped the offering table, smashed the incense burners, and knocked over my father’s urn. The ashes spilled out across the floor. “No! Stop it!” I lunged forward, desperately trying to stop them, but one of the men kicked me brutally to the ground. I instinctively looked to Julian for help. He stood perfectly still, his tone completely detached: “We’re outnumbered. Engaging them physically is tactically unsound. Furthermore, as an attorney, getting involved in a brawl is a violation of the law.” “Just wait. The police will be here shortly.” His chillingly rational voice shattered the very last illusion I had left of him. The Julian who had sworn to my father, right to his face, that he would protect me for the rest of my life… he was dead. My mother threw herself onto the floor, trying to scoop up my father’s ashes, but one of the thugs shoved her hard. “Mom!” I threw myself over her to protect her. A heavy wooden stick slammed into the back of my head. Stars exploded in my vision. The ringing in my ears mixed with the funeral dirge and the sound of breaking glass. Through the haze, I saw Julian clench his fists. He instinctively took a step toward me. But in the next second, a stray shard of porcelain flew through the air and grazed Chloe’s cheek, leaving a faint, shallow scratch. “Ow—” Julian rushed to her side instantly, his face tight with concern as he examined the tiny scratch. Then, he spun around and punched the thug nearest to her, sending him crashing to the floor. My chest seized up. I fell back, letting out a bitter, choked laugh. So it wasn’t about professional conduct or the law. It was just that I wasn’t worth throwing a punch for. Whenever he had to choose between Chloe and me, he had never, ever chosen me. The police arrived shortly after, and the thugs scattered. I discreetly wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and forced myself up to help my mom. Julian and Chloe were long gone. I found my phone on the floor. The screen was shattered, but I could read a text from Julian. “Chloe got hurt, so I took her to the ER. Call me if you need anything.” I thought about the tiny scratch on Chloe’s cheek. I reached up and touched the back of my own head. My hand came away covered in blood. My heart felt entirely hollow. The cold wind blew right through it, leaving my entire body completely numb. When the nurse disinfected my wound at the hospital, I only realized it hurt when she pressed down with the cotton swab. After getting patched up, I went back to our apartment. It was completely empty. The last message on my phone was still the one where he told me he was taking Chloe to the ER. I didn’t turn on the lights. I sat in the darkness, staring at the computer screen on his desk. It was displaying our engagement photo. There was only one. And it was just a candid shot taken by the photographer during prep. Because right when I was getting my makeup done, he told me Chloe was stuck on a legal precedent for a case and he had to go help her. So, our engagement photoshoot had turned into my solo portrait session. I wiped my face, took down every photo of us in the apartment, and threw them all in the trash. It was dawn by the time Julian came home. He stopped when he saw me sitting in the living room. “Have you been up all night, or…” “Do you have anything to say to me about the funeral?” I asked, my voice like ice. Julian frowned. “Are you talking about me wanting to leave early? Or are you blaming me for not protecting you?” It turned out he understood everything perfectly. He knew exactly what he was supposed to do, and he still chose to prioritize Chloe. I was so angry I actually laughed. “Do you even remember that I’m your fiancée? Do you remember that yesterday was the funeral for your fiancée’s father… your future father-in-law?” “I know, but…” “But what?! You left me standing alone at the front of the hall! And when thugs were trashing my father’s memorial and bashing my head in, what exactly were you doing?!” He walked over and sat next to me, cautiously reaching out to stroke my hair. I jerked my head away. His hand hovered in the air, his brow furrowing deeper. “I apologize. I’ll go home with you tomorrow and light some incense for your dad.” More empty compensations. But I didn’t want them anymore. I had no intention of giving him another chance. Once my father’s case was settled, we were done. We’d go our separate ways. I choked down the lump in my throat, fighting to keep my voice steady. “No need. When are you going to finish your legal brief for my dad’s vehicular manslaughter case?” He scrolled through his phone, not even looking up. “I can’t take it. The damages involved in your dad’s case are too small.” “So you’re dropping it?” “It’s not about dropping it, it’s about prioritizing cases by importance.” Priorities? I looked at the massive stack of case files sitting on his desk. They were for a high-profile bullying lawsuit where the defendant was Chloe’s younger brother. “Is the payout for a school bullying case really that high?” The room went silent for a few seconds. Julian cleared his throat, his eyes darting away. “Chloe has been swamped trying to make partner lately. She didn’t have time to handle this, so I’m just helping her out.” I stared right into his eyes, my voice ragged. “Helping her. Always helping her!” “She wants to make partner, so you have to help her. She gets a papercut on her cheek, so you have to help her. My father was murdered and hasn’t seen justice, and you’re STILL helping her?!” “What exactly does our engagement mean to you? What happened to the promise you made to my parents, that you would protect and take care of me?!” My mind flashed back to the day he had pressed my hand against his chest and sworn to my parents that he would never let me down. The memories felt like a fine, suffocating net tightening around my heart. “Julian.” I sat perfectly still and said his name with absolute seriousness. “We’re breaking u—” Julian’s phone started ringing loudly, cutting me off. He quickly pulled away and checked the caller ID. It was Chloe. “Yeah, okay. No problem, head out now. I’ll be right there.” To avoid office gossip, we had kept our relationship a secret at work. Julian never even let me ride in his car to the firm. But he picked up and dropped off Chloe every single day, rain or shine. He hung up, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door. “What were you trying to say? Never mind, we’ll talk later.” I watched him rush out the door. I sat there in a daze for a long time. Suddenly, all the fight just drained out of me. A little while later, my phone buzzed. It was Lewis, a junior associate at the firm. “Hey Maya, Julian asked me to take over your dad’s case.” I said “Thank you” and hung up. By the time I took the bus to the firm, the break room was buzzing with activity. Sarah, a paralegal, saw me and looked concerned. “Maya, you look terrible. Low blood sugar?” I forced a weak smile but didn’t say anything. Between my father’s funeral and staying up all night, I was exhausted down to my bones. Sarah handed me a caramel candy, then immediately turned back to gossip with the others. “We really have Chloe to thank for all the snacks in here.” “Right? Chloe fainted from low blood sugar once, and Julian had this entire snack bar stocked that very same afternoon.” “And I always see Julian and Chloe coming in together every morning. Do you guys think they’re secretly dating?” I kept my mouth shut and popped the candy into my mouth. Every snack, drink, and tea in the break room was handpicked by Julian in Chloe’s favorite flavors, just so she’d never go hungry. I had fainted from low blood sugar at the firm once, too. All I got from him was a look of utter disgust. “If you can’t even handle the stress of a receptionist job, you should just quit and go be a stay-at-home wife. You know how busy I am, why do you have to cause trouble?” From that day on, I never dared to show any sign of weakness or illness in front of him again. Right now, even the caramel candy tasted bitter. My phone buzzed. It was a text from my mom: “Maya, your dad’s trial starts this afternoon. If Julian is… if he’s busy, let’s not bother him.” My heart ached. I typed back to comfort her: “His associate is going to handle it.” That afternoon, I stood outside the courtroom doors. The opposing counsel’s massive legal team had already arrived. My mom was sitting in the front row of the gallery. When she saw me walk in alone, panic flashed in her eyes. “Where is the lawyer Julian sent?” I tried to reassure her. “Traffic is bad. He’ll be here any minute.” But Lewis never showed up. And neither did Julian. As the start time loomed closer, my hands were drenched in sweat. I called Lewis 99 times. No answer. My phone finally buzzed twice. I frantically opened it. It was an apologetic text from Lewis. “I’m so sorry. Chloe needed her brother’s deposition finalized for his case, and Julian told me to go handle it. I can’t make it to court today.” My entire body went ice cold. My heart plummeted. My mom sensed my panic and asked what was wrong. I forced down the terror and the crushing betrayal. “Mom, it’s fine.” In court, the opposing counsel presented their case. They cited statutes and precedents with practiced ease. When it was our turn, I had no choice but to step up. But this was my very first time speaking in a courtroom, and I hadn’t studied the law in years. I stumbled through my responses, my voice shaking uncontrollably. The opposing lawyers looked at me like I was a joke. During a brief recess, I finally got Julian on the phone. The background noise was loud. Glasses clinking, people laughing. “Maya? It’s really loud here, give me a second.” I was shaking with rage. “Julian! The trial is over! Where the hell is Lewis?! And where are YOU?!” “Chloe got her partnership promotion finalized today. She dragged me out to celebrate. I couldn’t get away.” “Isn’t Lewis…” He paused, as if finally remembering. He quickly tried to cover for himself: “It’s fine. I’ll file an appeal for you. I’ll handle the second trial personally.” Through the phone, I heard Chloe laugh. “Julian, hurry up! The meat’s done!” I hung up the phone. My hand fell limply to my side. There was zero suspense. We lost the first trial. When the judge read the verdict, my mom completely broke down, sobbing uncontrollably onto my shoulder until she nearly passed out. When I got back to the firm, I took my resignation letter and went straight to HR. Linda, the HR manager, took the letter, looking confused. “Maya, you do great work here. Why the sudden resignation?” I looked at her, my voice perfectly calm. “I graduated from the same law school as every attorney in this firm.” It wasn’t that I didn’t understand the legal jargon or the cases Julian and Chloe were always discussing. It was that they never gave me the chance to join the conversation. When I first joined the firm, I was an associate attorney. But before I ever got the chance to litigate a case, Julian made partner. He immediately had me transferred to the receptionist desk. He claimed it was to “avoid conflicts of interest,” and said the job would be less stressful so I could focus on “taking care of our home.” “Alright. I have the authorization to process your resignation, but are you sure? Don’t do this on an impulse,” Linda warned me. “It’s not an impulse.” I pushed the letter slightly closer to her. “Thank you for your help.” I walked out of HR and bumped straight into Julian. “Maya, I messed up with your dad’s case. I promise I’ll handle the appeal myself.” “It’s about to storm outside. Wait a bit and I’ll drive you home.” Perhaps out of guilt, Julian offered to give me a ride for the very first time. In the car, he started rambling about his strategy for the appeal, making it sound like he was genuinely prepared. Then, his phone rang. The car’s display screen lit up with the name “Chloe.” “Now? The client has a new update? Okay, I’ll…” Julian shot a quick, nervous glance at me, clearly trying to gauge my reaction. But I felt absolutely nothing. I spoke up before he could. “Go do your job. I’ll take a cab.” He let out a massive sigh of relief, looking incredibly pleased by my “maturity.” He quickly told Chloe on the phone, “Alright, I’m heading to your office now. Don’t panic.” He pulled the car over to the side of the road. I looked at the torrential rain pouring outside, and without a second of hesitation, I got out of the car. When I got back to my apartment, I saw Chloe had updated her Instagram. Two photos. One was a delicate French pastry. The other was a candid profile shot of Julian sitting across from her. The caption read: My late-night work buddy. Rain or shine. Someone had commented: “I ship it! Looks like a date disguised as overtime.” Julian had liked the comment. I dried my soaking wet hair. My clothes were clinging to my freezing skin. I casually ‘liked’ the post, too. I didn’t have time to deal with his nonsense anymore. I opened my father’s case file. This time, I was going to rely on myself. For the appeal hearing, Julian actually showed up. But he took a seat at the opposing counsel’s table. I froze in shock. Chloe stood up, a hint of smugness in her voice. “I am the defense counsel, Chloe Vance. This is my associate attorney, Julian Hayes. The defense is ready to proceed.” Chloe’s introduction took the sliver of hope my mother and I had managed to scrape together and plunged it into the abyss. Shoving my fury down, I fought to steady my voice as I recounted the events of the accident. “Three hundred meters before the incident, the vehicle’s speed was significantly above the legal limit. This is sufficient to infer either gross negligence or malicious intent on the part of the driver.” Julian, wearing a bespoke suit, looked entirely unbothered. “Your Honor, the surveillance footage from the adjacent storefronts only shows the vehicle in motion. It cannot quantify the exact speed or prove it exceeded the limit.” He always knew exactly how to dismantle the weakest link in his opponent’s argument. The judge nodded. The courtroom was dead silent. Even the witness we had agreed to call suddenly changed his story on the stand. As the trial neared its end, Julian and Chloe exchanged a triumphant look. Chloe stood up and pointed confidently at the enlarged surveillance still on the screen: “The defense demands the plaintiff compensate the defendant for emotional distress in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars.” I stared at them in utter disbelief. My father was intentionally run over and killed, and my mother and I were being forced to pay the murderer emotional damages? After the trial, Julian walked over to me. “I didn’t know Chloe was going to take this case… It’s her very first case since making partner.” “She’s your best friend. Can you please just be understanding?” I shoved him away numbly and walked straight out of the courtroom. Outside, a freezing drizzle had begun to fall. The rain hit my face, mixing with my tears. Three hours before my train was scheduled to leave, I went back to the firm to pack up the last of my things. I opened an envelope sitting on my desk and froze. It was a revocation notice from the Bar Association. “Following an investigation, Ms. Maya Evans has been found guilty of illicitly leaking confidential documents, a severe breach of professional ethics. Her license to practice law is permanently revoked, and she is banned from the legal profession for life.” There had been a massive scandal at the firm recently regarding leaked files. Julian was the one responsible for reporting the final culprit to the Bar Association. I clutched the notice in my fist and kicked open the door to Julian’s office. He and Chloe were laughing at something on a computer screen. I slammed the notice down on his desk. “Julian! The leaked files were in Chloe’s possession the entire time! When did I ever have access to the firm’s confidential documents?!” I thought he would at least try to comfort me or offer an explanation. But instead, he hit me with an absurd, condescending question: “Chloe is a partner. I couldn’t let her get disbarred. Besides, a receptionist doesn’t need a law license anyway. How does this actually affect you?” “And what good was your license doing you anyway? Have you ever litigated a case? Do you even know how to cross-examine? If I handed you a case right now, could you handle it?” Julian patted my shoulder, looking at me like I was a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Stop making a scene. Using your license to cover Chloe’s mistake is the most useful thing it’s ever done.” I stood there, shaking uncontrollably with rage. He wasn’t entirely wrong. From the day he shoved me behind the receptionist desk, I hadn’t grown professionally. I had only drifted further and further from my dream of being an attorney. I let out a bitter laugh. My throat was tight, and my eyes burned. “So you took the license I studied three years for, and my entire future, and threw it away just to cover Chloe’s tracks?” Julian looked surprised, as if he couldn’t fathom why I was so angry. “Alright, calm down. Once your dad’s case is totally wrapped up, I’ll have Chloe teach you how to draft some basic legal docs to pass the time.” Chloe, who had been flipping through a file, chimed in with a sickly-sweet voice: “Maya, I’ll teach you. Drafting is super easy.” SLAP! I couldn’t take it anymore. I slapped him as hard as I could across the face. The office went dead silent for three seconds. Julian touched his cheek, staring at me in absolute shock. “You hit me?” I glared at him, shaking with fury, my eyes blazing red. “Julian Hayes, you don’t have a soul!” I turned on my heel and slammed the door behind me. I heard his furious roar through the wood. “Maya Evans, you’re fired!” Out in the hallway, I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, wiped away my tears, and smirked. Fired? Big deal. I looked down at the thick stack of case files and evidence I was clutching in my other hand. Julian, the next time we meet, we’ll be sitting on opposite sides of the courtroom.

After my daughter went missing inside my wife’s corporate headquarters, I hijacked the building’s network and threatened the entire company with a hacker’s countdown protocol. “If my daughter isn’t found in three hours, this program will broadcast everyone’s private data to the public. Bank records, private chats, and every dirty little secret you keep hidden in the dark.” Gasps and protests erupted across the open-plan office. My wife’s male secretary, Julian, stood with red, tear-filled eyes. “This is all my fault. I lost track of her. Ethan, if you’re angry, take it out on me! Don’t drag innocent people into this.” My wife, Chloe, gently rubbed his back, whispering comforting words to him before charging at me, her eyes burning with fury. A sharp slap cracked across my face. “You’re a stay-at-home dad who couldn’t even be bothered to watch his own kid! And now you’re committing cyber-terrorism against my company? Shut it down, now!” Expressionless, I rubbed my stinging cheek and hit the enter key to start the timer. “I suggest you all start looking. I want to see her alive, or I want to see a body.” Tyler, one of the interns, scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Dude, you watch way too many sci-fi movies. Who do you think you are? You’re psychotic.” The moment the words left his mouth, every phone in the office chimed in unison. It was an automated mass-text: Tyler had ordered dozens of bottles of personal lubricant online over the past three days. The tense office suddenly broke into snickers. “Damn, Tyler, didn’t know you were such a busy guy.” Tyler’s face flushed beet red. He tried to hold it in but blurted out, “I bought them for Chloe…” The room went dead silent. Everyone’s gaze slowly shifted to Chloe. She remained perfectly composed, clearing her throat. “My husband and I are trying for a second baby. Is that a problem?” I let out a cold, cynical laugh. Chloe hadn’t been home in six months. I had no idea who she was “trying for a baby” with, but it certainly wasn’t me. However, after Tyler’s little exposure, no one dared question my methods again. Tyler nudged Julian’s arm. “Julian, maybe you should explain what exactly happened?” Julian’s eyes were bloodshot, looking utterly devastated. “Chloe had a video conference this morning. There was no one to watch Lily, so she asked me to help. I just stepped away to use the restroom for a minute, and when I came back…” He choked on a sob, a grown man shedding tears in the middle of the office. The employees immediately rallied around him. “It’s not your fault! When nature calls, you gotta go. Besides, it’s not your job to babysit.” “Her own father didn’t care enough to watch her. You did your best.” Chloe looked at him with heartbreak in her eyes. “The only person to blame is Ethan. He raised a disobedient brat who runs off. She’s caused you so much pain, Julian. When I find that little monster, I’ll tan her hide and make her apologize to you on her knees.” My heart turned to absolute ice. From the moment Lily disappeared until now, Chloe only cared about Julian’s feelings. She didn’t give a single damn whether our daughter was dead or alive. I cut through their pity party, my voice dangerously calm. “Two hours left.” Marcus, the CFO, furrowed his brow. “Ethan, locking us in here doesn’t help find the kid. Is it possible she just walked out the front doors to play? Maybe we should just… call the police?” Chime. Marcus’s phone buzzed. So did everyone else’s. Irrefutable evidence of Marcus embezzling company funds and cooking the books flashed on their screens. I stared at him, dead-eyed. “Are you sure you want to involve the cops?” Marcus broke out in a cold sweat, his voice pitching high. “I didn’t do it!” I pulled up a digital ledger on the projector screen. “Then maybe you can explain these massive, undocumented expenditures?” Marcus guiltily shifted his eyes toward Chloe, stammering, unable to form a sentence. I smirked coldly. “If he won’t say it, I will. Two million for a luxury condo for Julian. A hundred and fifty grand for Julian’s sports car. Twenty grand for Julian’s designer wardrobe…” “Enough!” Chloe shouted, cutting me off. “Are you just trying to start drama? Julian isn’t from around here; buying him a place to stay is standard relocation! His commute was long, so he needed a car! He accompanies me to galas, so he needs to look the part! Every cent spent was for the good of this company. Instead of standing here drowning in your own paranoid jealousy, you should be looking for your daughter!” Julian bit his lip, softly weeping. “It’s all my fault. Chloe just saw how much I was struggling and helped me out. I’ll resign right now. I’ll give it all back.” Chloe wrapped a protective arm around his waist. “Nonsense! You’re not going anywhere. Gifts are gifts. Ethan has a filthy mind and is twisting our relationship. Don’t listen to him!” The crowd turned their righteous anger toward me. “Are we finding this kid or what? You clearly don’t even love her. You’re just using this to slut-shame your wife. With a dad like you, no wonder the kid ran away.” The words hit me like a physical blow. Years ago, I worked three back-breaking jobs, living on instant noodles and no sleep, just to fund Chloe’s startup. I was the one who built the foundation for her to become this “business prodigy.” She used to tell me the company was bleeding money, tossing me a measly hundred bucks a month and telling me not to be a financial burden. While Lily and I crammed into a tiny, rundown studio apartment eating boiled cabbage, she was using our marital assets to buy mansions and luxury cars for Julian, dining at Michelin-star restaurants. I forced my emotions down. “My daughter is in this building. You have ninety minutes.” “Fine! We’ll look for her!” the staff grumbled, scattering to search. Once the room cleared a bit, I pulled a divorce agreement from my bag and slid it across the table to Chloe. “Sign it. We’re done.” Chloe scowled. “Ethan, I am not divorcing you. Julian and I are entirely platonic. I treat him like a younger brother.” Before she even finished her sentence, her phone buzzed. She opened the message, and her pupils dilated in pure panic. “Ethan, you’re blackmailing me!” I didn’t flinch. “If you don’t sign, that message goes out to the entire company in exactly three minutes.” “You’re out of your mind!” she hissed. “Do you really want Lily to grow up without a mother?” I looked up at her, a profound sadness flickering in my eyes. What good is a mother who doesn’t even know her daughter’s birthday or what kindergarten she goes to? Seeing I wasn’t backing down, Chloe gritted her teeth and signed. “Divorce proceedings take months in this state anyway. I won’t let it happen. We’ve weathered seven years together, Ethan.” I laughed bitterly internally. Seven years ago, I cut ties with my wealthy family to run away with her. When we were broke, she promised me the world. I never expected it to end like this. If I hadn’t secretly reconnected with my family recently, I wouldn’t even have the leverage to stand in this room today. The search parties returned to the office, empty-handed. Tyler was panting, irritated. “She’s not in the building! We checked everywhere!” I didn’t argue. Instead, I cast the building’s exterior security footage onto the projector. The cameras covered every possible exit. During the window she went missing, Lily never left the building. I glanced at the timer. “One hour left.” “From this point on, I will release a new secret every ten minutes. If you don’t find her, you can all look forward to prison or total social ruin.” The employees exploded in rage. “Are you out of your damn mind?! We didn’t lose your kid! Why are you punishing us?!” “Why didn’t you watch her yourself instead of dumping her on your wife?!” “You deserve this! A deadbeat dad raises a brat. She’s probably hiding in a closet somewhere laughing at us!” My expression remained entirely blank. I slowly turned my head toward Julian. “What do you think?” Seeing me single him out, he froze for a second before his eyes welled up again. “It’s all my fault. If we can’t find Lily, I don’t want to live either. I won’t eat or sleep until we find her.” Chloe looked at him with deep admiration. “You are too kind for your own good, Julian. Not like some people who don’t even care about their own flesh and blood.” A brief flash of triumph flickered in Julian’s eyes before he masked it. “Julian,” I said, cutting through their little romantic staredown. “Why did you have my mother-in-law bring Lily to the office today, knowing Chloe had a major video conference?” The employees, who had just been tearing into me for being a deadbeat, suddenly went quiet. Chloe looked at him in shock. I had always been Lily’s sole caretaker. When Lily was suddenly dropped off at her office today, Chloe had been furious, assuming it was my idea to dump the kid on her. Seeing the room’s suspicion shift to him, Julian looked at Chloe like a wounded puppy. “You… you got drunk last week and said you missed her. I just wanted to surprise you…” Though Chloe looked confused, she nodded along to protect him, then shot me a venomous glare. “Look how thoughtful he is! Look at yourself, Ethan! Even if my mother brought her here, you should have come along to watch her! This is entirely on you!” I lowered my eyes. I had guessed right. My mother-in-law despised Lily; she never would have brought her here unless someone paid her or manipulated her to do it. Ten minutes vanished in the blink of an eye. I scanned the room, my eyes landing on Chloe. I smiled. The smile sent a chill down her spine. “Ethan, I signed the papers! You can’t use that against me!” I shook my head. “You have a lot of secrets, Chloe. Every single one of them is fascinating.” Chime. A photo appeared on everyone’s phones. In the picture, Chloe was beaming, holding a little boy in her arms. Julian stood right beside her. They looked like the perfect, happy family. I took that photo from a distance when I brought Lily to the park to collect recycling. Lily had looked at the happy family with wide, envious eyes. When she recognized the woman, she looked up at me, confused and hurt. “Daddy, is that Mommy?” “Daddy, I wish Mommy would hold me just once.” All I could do was hold her tight and swallow my tears. Seeing the photo on her screen, all the color drained from Chloe’s face. “What does this have to do with finding Lily?! I am sick of this!” I took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling. “If you don’t tell me where my daughter is right now… you will never see that boy again.” Julian let out a blood-curdling shriek. “You’re a psychopath!” Realizing he had broken character, he cleared his throat and fell to his knees, looking at me with absolute terror. “Ethan, it’s my fault she’s gone! Kill me! Punish me! But don’t hurt an innocent child!” He crawled toward me, reaching for my legs. Before I could even react, he suddenly screamed and threw himself backward as if I had kicked him. Chloe’s face twisted into pure, murderous rage. In a blur of motion, she backhanded me across the face so hard I tasted blood. “You have a death wish, Ethan!” “You lost your own kid, and now you’re threatening an innocent boy? You are a monster! I tried to remember the good times we had, but you make me sick!” Suddenly, Julian produced a sharp letter opener from a nearby desk and pressed it to his own wrist. “Ethan, I deserve to die. Blame me. Let everyone else go, let the boy go. I’ll pay with my life. Just stop hurting people.” He made a show of pressing the blade into his skin until Chloe lunged and ripped it from his grasp. His performance ignited the room. “Are you even human, Ethan?! Taking out your parenting failures on someone else’s kid!” “Go to hell!” Before I could brace myself, a heavy boot slammed into my ribs. I lost my balance and crashed to the floor. As I tried to get up, Marcus the CFO brought a heavy office chair crashing down onto my back. “You wanna report me to the feds?! I’ll kill you!” Tyler stomped his dress shoe directly onto my right hand, grinding his heel in. “Think you’re a tough guy hacker? Let’s see you leak our shit with shattered fingers!” I lay paralyzed on the floor, every nerve in my body screaming in agony. I forced my eyes open and looked at Chloe. She didn’t even glance my way. She was too busy cradling Julian, frantically checking his wrist for a wound that barely existed. My heart had already died, but somehow, they found a way to kill it again. The woman who used to massage my calloused hands and cry over how hard I worked was now watching me get beaten to death with zero remorse. Chloe looked at the letter opener in her hand, a dark, sadistic smile creeping onto her face. “Tyler’s right. Stomping a hand might not stop you from typing. But if we sever the tendons… that changes things.” I froze, ice flooding my veins. “Chloe, if you do this, my family will destroy you. You know who they are.” She hesitated for a split second, a flicker of doubt crossing her eyes. But then her cold arrogance returned. “You were disowned years ago. Still dreaming of being the billionaire heir? If you were really the young master of the Vance family, you wouldn’t have been living like a rat for the past seven years.” So she knew. She knew exactly what I gave up for her, and exactly how much I suffered. Without an ounce of pity, she grabbed my wrist, raised the blade, and slashed down. “This is for Julian! You owe him this!” I screamed, thrashing on the floor, gasping through the blinding pain to croak out the words: “Ten… minutes left.” Tyler laughed. “Good luck sending texts with dead hands, loser.” Chime. Every phone in the room rang again. Marcus dropped his chair, his face turning ghost white. “It’s… it’s an automated timer?” I smiled through bloody teeth. “Until I have my daughter, the program does not stop.” The employees nervously opened the new message. It was the cover page of a clinical DNA paternity test. Chloe and Julian both turned to stone. My eyes locked onto Julian, sharp as daggers. “Five minutes left. When the clock hits zero, that boy dies, and the rest of this DNA report goes public.” Chloe roared, stepping in front of Julian. “You don’t need to threaten him! I admit it! The boy is mine! We used my egg and his sperm for IVF! Just let the boy go!” I didn’t say a word to her. I just stared at Julian. “Is that right?” Julian stared at the floor, trembling. As the seconds ticked by on the projector, his facade finally shattered. He looked at me with eyes full of pure venom, his lips quivering. “I’ll talk!”

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During our vacation, my chest suddenly tightened. I gasped for air, clutching my heart. My sister frantically rummaged through her bag for my medication and was clipped by a passing car, falling to the ground. She wasn’t seriously hurt, but my fiancé, Ethan, stopped dead in his tracks. “Riley, aren’t you tired of faking these panic attacks after all these years?” My sister, Chloe, immediately stepped in front of me. “Ethan, what the hell is wrong with you?” He furrowed his brows, bending down to check her scraped knee. “Are you stupid? If it wasn’t for her, would you be bleeding right now?” His eyes were overflowing with heartache. “Last time you had that huge job interview, it was practically a done deal. She made one phone call saying she couldn’t breathe, and you dropped everything and ran.” “And when you came back, you just smiled and told me, ‘It’s fine, there’s always next time.’” Chloe tilted her chin up stubbornly, though her voice softened. “What are you talking about? Taking care of Riley is my responsibility.” In a spot they couldn’t see, I was gripping my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. The screen was still frozen on a message I had received three seconds ago. A message sent from my future self: “Do you believe me now? He never loved you.” …………. I clutched my chest, taking short, ragged breaths as I slowly sank to a squat. Under Chloe’s fierce glaring, Ethan finally knelt in front of me. Right there in the middle of the crowded street. He said, “I’m sorry. I was just too worried about you. I didn’t mean what I said.” But as soon as the words left his mouth, he didn’t spare me another glance. He turned, scooped Chloe up into his arms, and ran toward the nearest urgent care. Actually, Chloe was fine. When the car clipped her, I had thrown myself under her to break the fall. My knees were torn to shreds, flesh and blood mingling with the asphalt. But no one cared. Just yesterday, Ethan—my boyfriend of three years—had proposed to me, and I had excitedly nodded yes. But right before I fell asleep, I received a photo from the future. It showed a woman sitting in a wheelchair. Her cheeks were sunken and hollow, her dry, lifeless hair tied haphazardly at the back of her head. That face… was undeniably mine, but aged a grueling ten years. Beneath the photo was a single line of text: “Remember, do not marry him.” Before today, I had brushed it off as some sick prank. Watching their silhouettes disappear around the corner, my trembling fingers dialed the number back. The voice on the other end was low, suppressing an ocean of pain: “If you follow them right now, you’ll uncover the truth.” My instincts screamed at me to back away, to stay in the dark, but my feet moved on their own. When I caught up, they had stopped in the corner of a hospital stairwell. Ethan was crouched on the ground, carefully holding Chloe’s calf like it was a fragile, priceless artifact. His fingertips gently brushed the redness of her knee. “I’m going to tell her the truth. Whatever anger she has, she can take it out on me. I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore.” Chloe shoved him away. “Are you out of your mind? You literally just proposed to her.” “I told you I’m fine, it’s just a scrape. Why did you talk to Riley like that earlier?” Ethan looked up at her. His eyes were red. “Chloe, why did I ask her to marry me? Do you honestly not know?” Chloe fell silent. “That time you missed your interview, you smiled at me like it was nothing. But that night, I saw you sitting alone on the balcony until 3 AM.” The motion-sensor lights in the stairwell clicked off, then flickered back on. Their shadows merged on the concrete wall, blurring the lines of who was who. “Do you know how much that broke my heart?” He pulled her into a tight embrace, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Chloe… I’ll marry her. I’ll take care of her… Just, please, can you finally live for yourself?” Chloe’s eyelashes fluttered. “I owe Riley my life…” A deathly silence filled the stairwell. It felt exactly like that quiet, sweltering summer afternoon years ago. My parents had held my hand as we walked into the children’s group home. “Riley, you get too lonely by yourself. Let’s find you a companion.” I wandered into the backyard and saw Chloe, two years older than me, being kicked into the deep end of the pool by some older kids. My screams brought my parents running. When Chloe was pulled out, she was drenched, her lips bruised purple. I clung to my dad’s hand, crying, “I want this sister! If she stays here, she’ll die!” Later, she cautiously took my hand. “From now on, I’ll protect you.” The year my parents died in a horrific car crash, I developed severe, psychosomatic panic attacks. Whenever I experienced extreme emotional distress, my chest would seize up, mimicking a heart attack. Even though Chloe was shaking violently herself back then, she forced herself to stand strong and wipe my tears. In middle school, when boys pulled my hair and called me an “orphan freak,” she stood in front of me like a feral cat, ready to scratch their eyes out. Even when her own legs were trembling, she didn’t take a single step back. In college, I took a waitress job to ease our financial burden and got harassed by a drunk customer. When she found out, she took an overnight bus just to see me. “Riley, don’t be afraid. I’ll go make the money. You just focus on your studies.” She was always like that. Even if the sky fell, Chloe would be there to hold it up. Tears finally fell. I leaned against the heavy fire door, slowly sliding to the floor. I put the phone to my ear. “When did it start between them?” Silence stretched on the other end. “Actually, the first time you ever truly met Ethan…” “He was on his way to confess his feelings to Chloe.” That cliché moment when he heroically “saved” me during a panic attack… that heart-fluttering encounter… it was all just a cosmic mistake. I was the one who initiated things with Ethan. I blocked his path after classes, blushing furiously as I shoved a bag of homemade cookies into his hands. To get him his favorite hot breakfast, I’d wake up at 6 AM in the dead of winter and wait in the freezing wind. He once casually mentioned liking a specific vintage fountain pen. When I saved up all my part-time money to buy it for him, I saw a fleeting look of shock and tenderness in his eyes. Back then, my entire world revolved around him. I naively believed that as long as I was sincere enough, I could earn his love in return. He once asked me out of the blue, “If I had someone else in my heart, would you mind?” I thought it was just him feeling insecure about our relationship. I smiled and replied, “If you ever find you can’t love me anymore, just promise to tell me first, okay?” Thinking back now… That was probably the only obscure warning his guilty conscience ever gave me. After we made it official, he was undeniably good to me. He knew my emotional triggers caused my condition to flare up. His phone always had the schedules of the best cardiologists and trauma therapists pinned to his home screen. I loved pomegranates, but hated picking out the seeds. He would painstakingly peel and prep bowls of them for me. Once, the doctor said hiking would be good for my stamina. He took me up a mountain, limping the whole way down. I only found out later he had severely sprained his ankle playing basketball the day before. I cried, drowning in guilt, but he pressed me against his chest and comforted me: “You idiot, a broken leg can heal. But if you have another episode, where am I supposed to find another Riley exactly like you?” All that tenderness I had once drowned in now felt like razor blades sliding down my throat. My mind spun, repeating the same agonizing thought over and over: If only she had told me earlier. Before the proposal. Even before Ethan and I got together. If she had just looked me in the eye and said, “Riley, the person I like is actually Ethan.” I would have frozen. Maybe my eyes would have welled up. But I would have nodded. I would have backed away. I was always willing to step aside for her, if they had just been honest. But they never said a word. Ethan held my hand, ruffled my hair, and handed me hot coffee in the morning. My heart had been full of nothing but gratitude and joy. I used to brag to Chloe, “Look how good he is to me.” And Chloe would stroke my hair and smile, “Our Riley deserves the best.” What was going through her mind back then? The voice on the phone spoke again, like a knife coated in venom: “Go home. Look at everything you ignored. Every gift, every decoration.” I stumbled back to the apartment Ethan and I shared. With trembling hands, I pushed the door open. For the first time, I truly looked at the space we had shared for the last five years. On the living room wall hung a massive oil painting of the ocean. It was the birthday gift Ethan gave me last year. Only now did I remember—Chloe’s favorite color was blue. Back in the children’s home, she would always stare blankly at a faded ocean poster on the wall. I staggered into the bedroom. From the nightstand, the familiar melody of the music box drifted through the air—You Are My Sunshine. My heart seized. When we were kids, terrified of the dark, that was the exact lullaby Chloe used to hum to me. So even the melody he used to lull me to sleep was stolen. Like a madwoman, I rushed into the closet, dragging out the jewelry Ethan had gifted me over the years. Necklaces and bracelets he claimed were “custom-made just for me.” I thought of the simple braided red thread Chloe wore around her wrist year-round—her only piece of jewelry. And looking at Ethan’s expensive gifts, the design inspirations for almost all of them blatantly mimicked the weaving pattern of that cheap red thread. The pale, exhausted voice echoed from my phone again. “Do you see it now? His love was nothing but a smokescreen.” “Listen to me. Stop this before it goes any further.” The voice carried an infinite, hollow despair. “He never loved you. He was loving her, through you. And you were just the innocent, cruel shield they used to hide their guilt.” Suddenly, keys jingled in the front door. Ethan walked in, carrying Chloe. The moment Chloe saw me, she frantically shoved herself out of his arms. She stumbled, catching herself against the wall, putting distance between them. She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes locked onto me. “Riley! Why are your legs bleeding so much?!” She panicked, tearing through the cabinets to find the first-aid kit. She crouched in front of me, swabbing my wounds with alcohol. The sting was excruciating. “Ethan! Are you dead?! Come help me!” Chloe yelled toward the door, her voice thick with tears. But Ethan just stood there. He froze for a few seconds before slowly walking over. “Riley, there’s something I need to confess to you…” “Ethan!” Chloe’s head snapped up. Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head at him, silently begging him to stop. Ethan looked as though every ounce of life had been drained from him. He stared deeply into my eyes for a long moment, then turned and slammed the front door behind him. The loud bang felt like a physical blow to my chest. “He… he just wanted to say he’s excited about the wedding…” Chloe hastily wiped her face, forcing a smile that looked worse than crying. “Riley, this is what you’ve been waiting for… I’m so happy for you.” I swallowed the agony tearing at my throat and turned away, terrified my tears would fall if I blinked. Back in my room, a new voice note arrived. My trembling finger tapped play. “On the day of the wedding, Chloe stood crying on the hotel rooftop.” “Right when the officiant said, ‘You may now kiss the bride,’ Ethan suddenly turned… and ran out of the hall like a madman.” The audio crackled, the voice breaking. “I went crazy and chased after him. All the way up to the rooftop, where the wind was howling. I saw them holding each other, kissing desperately.” “He took the once-in-a-lifetime ring… and put it on Chloe’s finger.” “I had a massive panic attack right there. It was the worst one I ever had.” “By the time the ambulance got me to the hospital, I had flatlined twice. I lived, but I lost the use of my legs.” The screen went dark. I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper, refusing to let myself sob out loud. The phone remained silent for a long time. “What do you want to do right now?” I stared at the hardwood floor, my voice so hoarse it didn’t sound like my own. “I want to go find him.” “And then?” “I don’t know.” I grabbed my messy hair. “I just… I want to hear him say it to my face. When he told me he loved me, who was he really looking at? I need him to say it.” I grabbed my jacket. I went straight to the bar Ethan frequented. In the dim lighting and deafening bass, I spotted him in a corner booth immediately. He was slumped against the leather sofa, looking utterly defeated. His best friend, Marcus, patted his shoulder. “Bro, even if you’re gonna come clean, you gotta let her down easy.” “I remember when Riley collapsed in the street, you went psychotic. Nobody could hold you back.” “And that necklace she made for you? You treat it like a holy relic at your place.” “Bullshit!” Ethan snapped, like a dog whose tail had been stepped on. He shoved Marcus’s hand away. “What do you know?! I… I only treated her well because of Chloe!” Even knowing the truth, hearing it out loud still stabbed me right in the heart. Marcus gave Ethan a long, hard look before turning to leave. He dropped one last sentence: “Just make sure you don’t regret it later.” I stood by the entrance for a long time before slowly walking up behind him. “Ethan, let’s break up.” His jaw dropped. He stared at me in shock, unable to form a word. I didn’t wait. I didn’t need a response. I turned on my heel and walked out of the bar, never looking back. I didn’t go home. I checked into a random hotel for the night. My phone buzzed. The voice on the other end sounded significantly lighter than the past few days. “Did you break up with him? My legs actually felt a bit better today.” I said softly, “Yeah. I just did it.” She laughed, a hint of genuine relief in her tone. “Go to Asheville, North Carolina. I ran into our old college friend, Sarah, today. She knows a trauma specialist out there who just moved back from Europe. They specialize in our specific psychosomatic triggers. You should go try.” Right before she hung up, she said: “Riley, look forward. There is nothing you can’t survive. We are both going to slowly get better.” I didn’t agree immediately. All my memories were in this city. Cutting the cord was agonizingly hard. The next day, I went back to the apartment to pack. The moment I pushed the door open, the overwhelming stench of alcohol hit my face. Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot. He looked like a cornered, feral beast. Seeing me, he lunged forward and shoved me hard. I slammed against the shoe cabinet, a dull pain radiating through my spine. “Riley, what the hell is your game?!” He practically spit the words, glaring at me with pure venom. “What did you say to Chloe after you left the bar last night?! She ran out in the middle of the night looking for you, and now she won’t pick up her damn phone!” My face went pale. I opened my mouth to explain, but he didn’t give me a chance. “She would literally die for you! And what do you do? You hide behind her, playing the victim, making her suffer for your sake!” “Do you know she gave up the person she loved because she was too scared of hurting you? Do you know how much she has sacrificed for you over the years? And you just sit there, sucking her dry with zero guilt!” His voice grew louder, echoing in the apartment. Finally, he gritted his teeth. “Was getting your parents killed not enough?! Do you have to kill the sister who spoiled you your whole life too?! Does your family adopting her mean you get to slowly drain her life away?!” I froze. My parents’ death!! My heart contracted violently, the pain so sharp I couldn’t breathe. My fingertips went numb, and my body began to slide down the wall uncontrollably. He violently yanked my hand away from his arm. His eyes were as cold as a stranger’s. “Having another episode?” he sneered. “Don’t worry, I asked a doctor once. You won’t die from it.” He slammed the door shut and walked away. I collapsed on the floor, tears falling silently. That year, I had thrown a tantrum, begging to go to the amusement park. While my dad was driving us there, a drunk driver in a semi-truck blew a red light and T-boned us. My parents in the front seats were killed instantly. Chloe and I survived. From that day on, I suffered from severe PTSD. Whenever I saw a large truck, or felt intense guilt, my body would shake uncontrollably and mimic a heart attack. Chloe had never brought it up in front of me. She would just hold me silently, whispering over and over, “Riley, I’m here. I’m right here.” But she took the deepest, bloodiest wound in my soul… And handed it to Ethan, giving him the perfect weapon to stab me with. The familiar, suffocating pressure in my chest grew unbearable. I instinctively reached into my pocket. Empty. My pill bottle was left on the nightstand at the hotel. No medication. No one to rub my back. No hands to wipe the cold sweat off my forehead. In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty: I had lost everything. I dragged myself to a pharmacy in a daze, bought my pills, and swallowed them dry. Then, I took out my phone and booked a one-way flight to Asheville for tonight. In the group chat with the three of us, I tagged Ethan: I’m giving him back to you. I wish you both a long, happy life. Without hesitating, I hit ‘Leave Group’.

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On the third day of our college graduation trip, our off-road vehicle suddenly broke down in the unforgiving heart of the Sahara Desert. Right before I lost consciousness, I wrote a suicide note to my parents: “Drink my blood. It will buy you a few more days.” Then, I slashed my wrist and filled three empty water bottles to the brim with my own blood. After I died, my soul floated 5,000 feet into the air. Inside the luxurious cabin of a private jet, there was no blistering sun, only the crisp, refreshing chill of the air conditioning. Liam, my childhood sweetheart—who had supposedly died of thirst a few days ago after giving me his last drop of water—was currently holding my adopted sister in his arms. “She’s been trekking through 150-degree heat for over thirty miles now. Is that enough for you to let off some steam?” My adopted sister, Mia, laughed gleefully. “Your acting was incredible! My arrogant, ice-queen sister almost cried herself to death when you played dead!” My mother gently and affectionately stroked Mia’s hair. “Hopefully, after this little lesson, she’ll learn to be as sweet and understanding as you are.” My father casually flipped a piece of premium wagyu beef on the indoor grill, nodding in agreement. “Let’s hold off on the rescue team. Let Chloe walk for one more day. We’ll see if she ever dares to bully our little Mia again!” Hanging in the air as a spirit, I felt as if I had been plunged into an icy abyss. It turned out this whole desperate fight for survival in the desert was entirely fake. It was nothing more than a meticulously crafted punishment, designed by my own family just to make my adopted sister smile. Mia lounged comfortably on the jet’s plush sofa, enjoying the barbecue my father had cooked for her. I looked down at my own body on the sand below. My skin was red, blistered, and cracked. Driven by extreme hunger and dehydration, my body had withered into what looked like a mummified corpse. The gash on my wrist was so deep it had nearly severed my hand. I had used the jagged edge of a tin can lid to cut myself, using every last ounce of my strength to drain my blood for them. I had desperately hoped that once my parents followed the trail marks I left behind, my blood and flesh would be enough to keep them alive. But it was all a lie. A sick, twisted game. While I was crawling through the burning sands fighting for my life, my entire family was sipping drinks in the AC, watching me suffer like it was reality TV. Mia glanced at the GPS tracker on Liam’s phone and pouted her lips playfully. “Oh no, if she walks just two more miles, she’ll actually reach the oasis camp. I haven’t seen enough of the show yet! How about… we tell the camp to move a little further away?” A flicker of hesitation crossed Liam’s eyes. “But… Chloe has been walking in the desert for three days. I’m worried she won’t hold out much longer.” Mia’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. She bit her lip, looking incredibly wronged. “You’re feeling sorry for her after just a little test? Did you forget what she did to me? She dumped me in that sketchy motel with those street thugs and let them humiliate me!” My mother immediately rushed over, wiping away Mia’s crocodile tears. “Chloe was so cruel to you. She deserves an eye for an eye. It’s about time she learned her lesson!” Liam pulled Mia tightly into his embrace, coaxing her softly. “Don’t cry, Mia. Okay, I’ll punish her and make her walk a few more days, alright?” My father swirled the red wine in his glass and nodded approvingly. “Do as Mia says. Let Chloe suffer out there a bit longer. It’s a great opportunity to build her willpower anyway!” My soul trembled in the cold air. Right before my LSAT exams, Mia had intentionally gone missing. She hid in a gaming cafe and partied for a whole week. When she finally came home, her clothes were torn. She cried to my parents, claiming I was jealous of her grades, so I hired street thugs to drug her and dump her in a bad neighborhood to make her miss the exam. I cried and swore on my life that I had nothing to do with it. My parents told me they believed me. When my test scores came back and I placed first, they even rewarded me with this grand graduation trip to the Sahara. But as it turned out, they never believed a word I said. This “vacation” was just a beautifully packaged death trap. On the sofa, they all huddled around Mia, brainstorming new ways to torture me for her amusement. Liam spoke with a gentle, loving tone: “When she finally reaches the oasis camp, I’ll make her kneel and kowtow ten times before I send the rescue chopper down. How does that sound?” Suddenly, my mother looked at her phone and excitedly tapped Mia’s shoulder. “Mia, your account is trending at number one!” She cast her phone screen onto the jet’s massive LED display. A bright red trending hashtag came into view: 【Upper East Side’s Ice Queen – 72 Hours of Pathetic Desert Survival】 It was the most viewed video on the internet right now. Shot from hidden, 360-degree drone angles, it captured every miserable, humiliating second of my three days and nights in the desert. When I saw the footage playing on the screen, I lunged forward, screaming. “No—stop! I don’t want anyone to see me like this!” But no one could hear the screams of a ghost. The crystal-clear screen broadcasted my absolute lowest moments. In the video, my clothes were in tatters. I was kneeling in the scorching sand, desperately licking at my own urine mixed with dirt. There was too much sand and barely any moisture. The second it touched my tongue, my stomach revolted, and I threw up acid and bile. Yet, I frantically scraped up the mess, sobbing hoarsely. “I have to eat… I can’t die… Mom and Dad are still waiting for me…” The live comments scrolling across the video were full of shock and mockery. 【Oh my god, is that the snobby Vance family heiress? She completely threw away her dignity just to live!】 【LMAO look at her dying of thirst, she looks like a wild dog!】 【I guess rich people will do anything when push comes to shove.】 A few rational viewers questioned it: 【Is this real? Would a billionaire heiress really risk her life for clout? What if she actually dies?】 But my father just crossed his legs, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “We spoiled Chloe too much growing up. She was always competing with Mia out of jealousy. She needs to eat some real dirt to appreciate the privileged life we gave her.” My mother smiled, peeling a lychee and lovingly feeding it to Mia. “Once she survives this nightmare, she’ll finally realize how lucky she is.” Liam chuckled in agreement. “Let’s hope she understands Mr. and Mrs. Vance’s good intentions.” Their lighthearted words felt like jagged knives violently carving into my heart. So this was “for my own good.” Terrified that my parents would die of thirst, I had gritted my teeth and walked day and night to find water, never stopping even when my throat bled. I cast aside every ounce of my pride, fighting desperately to survive so I could bring a rescue team back for them. Not only did they not feel an ounce of pity or guilt… They actually believed this was a righteous way to tame me. They had turned my agonizing, animalistic struggle for survival into an online spectacle for the masses to laugh at. With a smirk, Liam clicked to the next video. It was the clip of him “faking his death” and handing me the final bottle of water. He leaned back, his voice dripping with pride. “I told her it was the absolute last bottle we had.” “If she couldn’t find the camp, our whole family would die.” “The look of pure, shattered despair on her face was just beautiful.” Mia rolled her eyes playfully and fast-forwarded the video to the part where I frantically drank the water. She clung to my mother’s arm and pouted. “My sister is still too selfish. If it were me, I wouldn’t have taken a single sip. I would have died of thirst just to bring that bottle back to you and Dad.” My father shook his head in disappointment. “It’s true. You only see someone’s true colors when they face death.” “Chloe really is a heartless, ungrateful wretch!” My mother let out a cold scoff. “Raising her was a waste of time. Thank god we have our sweet Mia.” Floating in the air, I shook my head, sobbing violently. “I’m not ungrateful!” “I cut open my own veins to give you my blood!” “You have drones, don’t you?! Just look back at me! I’m already dead!” But Liam was busy happily passing out slices of cake to the flight attendants. “Let’s celebrate Mia! Her account just gained 300,000 followers in the last few days!” Everyone clapped, praising Mia’s “genius” idea to stage this survival documentary. My mother patted Mia’s head with pride. “Didn’t you want to be a filmmaker? When we get back to the States, Mom will hire the best PR team for you. We’ll use this footage of your sister to win you an international documentary award.” The cabin erupted in joyous cheers and laughter. No one cared that this massive wave of fame was built directly on top of my rotting corpse. Suddenly, a malicious glint flashed in Mia’s eyes. “I know! Since the videos are blowing up, let’s do a live stream!” “People love raw, unedited content. If they see her struggling in real-time, the internet will break!” She jumped up excitedly, typing a quick post on her phone: 【Going LIVE now to show my sister’s ultimate desert survival challenge! Come watch the show!】 Once it was posted, she eagerly pressed the Bluetooth connect button for the drone. Miles away, the drone hovering near my body whirred to life. Liam took the controls and slowly lowered its altitude. The heat from the propellers blew away a thin layer of sand, exposing my body completely to the camera. I was curled up in the shadow of a small dune, completely motionless. A few viewers noticed something was wrong. Comments began to flood in: 【Wait, did she actually die of thirst? Why isn’t she moving at all?】 My mother’s eyes locked onto the screen, her face suddenly turning pale. “Did Chloe pass out?” Mia rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with feigned innocence. “She’s probably just sleeping… She’s so awful. Mom and Dad are supposedly out there waiting for her to save them, and she’s just taking a cozy nap.” But a sudden, heavy unease settled in my father’s chest. “Something isn’t right! She didn’t set up the emergency tent, and her skin is severely cracked.” I dug my ghostly nails into my palms, my heart screaming with anxiety. Were they finally going to realize I was dead?! Liam’s expression hardened. He carefully maneuvered the drone closer. When the high-definition lens finally captured the details of my body, the color completely drained from his face. “She… she looks unconscious. And there’s a ton of blood on her clothes!” My parents panicked, jumping out of their seats to tell the pilot to turn the jet around immediately. But Mia suddenly leaped in front of the screen, pointing a manicured finger at the three bottles resting in front of my body. “Mom, Dad, don’t fall for it! Look, she has three bottles of tomato juice!” “I knew the tomato juice she bought before the trip didn’t just disappear! She hid it for herself!” “That ‘blood’ is definitely just tomato juice! She must have realized we were tricking her, so she’s playing dead to get back at us!” My mother hesitated, her voice trembling. “But… Chloe hates tomatoes.” Mia froze for a split second. Then, she quickly turned to Liam and let out a dramatic, exaggerated gasp. “Liam loves tomatoes! She must have bought them for him!” Like she had uncovered some heinous crime, her voice pitched an octave higher. “Oh my god! How could my sister be so selfish?!” “Not only did she refuse to leave any for Mom and Dad—she didn’t even bring it out when Liam was literally dying of thirst in front of her!” “She didn’t care if we lived or died. She just wanted to save herself!” My mother covered her mouth, tears of rage flowing down her cheeks. “How did I raise such a monstrous daughter?!” My father’s face darkened with fury. He snatched the drone controller from Liam and slammed the microphone button. “Chloe Vance! You are an absolute disappointment!” “This was supposed to be a test to see if you were worthy of inheriting the family company.” “But you secretly hoarded three bottles of juice?! Were you praying we would all die of thirst so you could take everything for yourself?!” Seeing that my body didn’t move, Liam lost his temper. He roared at my corpse through the drone’s speakers. “Stop acting! We know you’re faking it!” “Apologize to Mia right now and swear you will never bully her again, and maybe we’ll take you home!” When I still lay motionless on the sand, the live stream chat exploded. 【She hid juice for herself?! What kind of monster does that?】 【What a toxic witch! She wanted to walk out alone and didn’t even save her boyfriend.】 【And I actually felt bad for her a minute ago. A selfish animal like her deserves to rot in the desert!】 Every single comment was a jagged knife stabbing into me. I screamed and cried at them in the air. “No… no! Don’t listen to Mia’s lies!” “That isn’t tomato juice… That’s my blood… It’s the blood I drained for you!” I knelt in the air, screaming until my ethereal throat felt torn, but they remained completely oblivious. My father’s face was stone-cold as he picked up the intercom to the cockpit. “Captain, turn the plane around immediately.” He ground his teeth, his words laced with venom. “I’m going down there to teach that ungrateful brat a lesson myself!” Just as the jet banked to turn back toward me, Mia suddenly went stiff and collapsed straight backward onto the carpet. My mother screamed, diving to catch her. “Mia! Mia, what’s wrong?!” Mia lay trembling, weakly pulling a crumpled wrapper out of her pocket. Tears streamed down her face. “The chocolate… the chocolate my sister gave me before she left… it was peanut butter…” “She… she actually wanted to murder me in the desert!” My mother’s face warped in horror. “Did she forget Mia is deathly allergic to peanuts?!” My father slammed his fist against the armrest. “This is madness! She knows we don’t have an EpiPen out here! She was trying to kill her!” In an instant, they completely forgot about me, trapped in the lethal sands. They hastily shut off the livestream and ordered the pilot to fly straight to the nearest hospital. After waking up in the VIP hospital ward, Mia held my mother’s hand, crying rivers of tears. “When my sister dumped me with those street thugs and let those men humiliate me, I never blamed her.” “I know I took some of your love away from her. But… but this time, she actually wanted me dead!” My mother hugged her tightly, grinding her teeth. “Chloe has gone way too far this time. I am going to make her pay.” My father’s expression was deadly. “This is attempted murder! The second she crawls back to the States, I am calling the police and putting her behind bars myself!” Even Liam, the one person who had always trusted me the most, spoke with chilling coldness. “Chloe is an incredible actress. I never realized she was this venomous.” He violently yanked the matching couple’s bracelet off his wrist. “No—!” I lunged forward to stop him, but my ghostly hands phased right through. The black cord snapped, and the beads scattered across the hospital floor. “No! Why do you believe her lies too?!” When I was finally found and brought back to my wealthy parents at age 13, I discovered they had already adopted Mia to replace me. They always claimed I was their true daughter and they loved me most, but every single time Mia framed me, they believed her without question. Their coldness toward me grew, and fearing I would “harm” their precious Mia, they exiled me to boarding schools. I endured five years of emotional abuse and isolation from my own family. Liam was the only exception. When I fell into total despair, believing no one in this world would ever love me, he stayed up all night hand-weaving that couple’s bracelet for me. It was a black cord with a small moon charm. He told me I was his moonlight. He said the little girl who had desperately jumped into a freezing river to save him from drowning years ago could never be the evil person Mia claimed she was. He promised he would stand by my side, forever and always. Looking at the absolute disgust on Liam’s face now, my heart went completely numb. I didn’t even have the strength left to cry. Suddenly, my father’s phone rang loudly. He answered, and the frantic voice of the drone operator blared through the speaker. “Mr. Vance, something’s wrong!” “We recharged the drone and flew it back to check on your daughter, and… and she’s still lying there, completely motionless!” Before my father could react, Mia chimed in, her voice dripping with fake concern. “She’s probably worried you’ll report her for trying to murder me, so she’s playing dead to make you feel guilty!” “I’m fine now… maybe you guys should go back and check on her? Lying in the sand that long can’t be good for her skin…” Hearing her words, whatever tiny shred of worry my parents and Liam had instantly vaporized, replaced by utter impatience and disgust. My father hung up the phone violently. “I am done looking at her face! We spoiled her rotten! Leave her there to fend for herself!” They completely erased me from their minds, leaving the hospital to begin their real graduation trip with Mia. While my corpse was slowly buried by the sweeping desert winds… They flew Mia to Hawaii for a luxury scuba diving trip. On the pristine beaches of Lanai, Liam fastened a stunning piece of jewelry around Mia’s neck—a gift he had originally bought for me. “The purest pearl necklace in the world, for our pure, kind-hearted Mia.” Seven days later, they finally returned to the US. The clips of my desert “survival” had gone viral globally. The moment they stepped out of the airport, they were swarmed by flashing cameras and reporters. “Mr. Vance! Was the desert inheritance test real? Or was it just a marketing stunt?” “Did your daughter make it out of the desert? What were the results of the test?” Facing the barrage of cameras, my father spoke with cold authority: “You all saw how Chloe Vance behaved in a crisis during the livestream.” “Selfish, deceitful, and willing to murder her own sister to survive. Someone with such despicable character is absolutely unfit to inherit the Vance Empire.” My mother stepped up to the mics, adding: “I have legally transferred all of Chloe’s assets and corporate shares to our adopted daughter, Mia.” Liam also faced the cameras, taking Mia’s hand in his. “I have officially broken up with that toxic witch. Mia is the only woman I truly love!” Mia leaned against his chest like a fragile little bird, a triumphant, wicked smile playing on her lips. Just then, a massive commotion broke out at the edge of the press pool. A team of grim-faced police officers shoved their way through the reporters, striding directly toward my family. The police captain held up a stack of photographs, his voice booming over the crowd: “You are all under arrest for suspicion of first-degree murder. Come with us.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574809”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My boyfriend lived his life by one golden rule: He didn’t prioritize people by how much he loved them, but by how urgent their situation was. When my best friend Jasmine and I both caught a terrible fever, he drove her to the ER first simply because her temperature was 0.1 degrees higher than mine. When my mother finally reached the top of the transplant list after three agonizing years, he begged me to yield the directed kidney donation to Jasmine’s mother, arguing that her condition was far more critical. And then came tonight. Jasmine called me crying, saying she had a massive fight with her boyfriend and felt like her world was ending. I sat with her at a downtown bar, drinking until midnight, until my boyfriend finally lost his temper and issued an ultimatum for me to come home. Half an hour later, hurried footsteps echoed into our private booth. To avoid his scolding, I slumped against the leather sofa and pretended to be asleep. Caleb leaned over me, just like he did every time he caught me drinking too much. He helplessly stroked my hair. “Chloe?” I held my breath, staying completely still, but the corners of my lips twitched upward. I was plotting my move—the second he leaned down to scoop me into his arms, I was going to throw my arms around his neck and act shamelessly cute to get out of trouble. But the next second, his hand stopped. Before I could even process it, he turned and walked straight toward Jasmine. “How much did you drink? Why is your face so red?” Jasmine pushed him away, her words slurring. “Just one glass. Leave me alone. Go check on Chloe, she drank way more than me.” He didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned down and pulled her up from the sofa into his arms. “Still being stubborn? I just missed one of your calls this afternoon. Did you really have to throw a tantrum like this?” “I’ll take you home first. Tomorrow, when Chloe wakes up, we’ll just tell her you were way more wasted than she was. We’ll brush it off.” Curled up on the sofa, the alcohol in my system evaporated instantly. In that split second, I finally understood. I understood why Jasmine’s problems were always placed ahead of mine. And I finally knew who this mysterious boyfriend she constantly fought with really was. … “I’m not leaving! You haven’t even apologized!” Halfway to the door, Jasmine stopped, whining softly through her drunken haze. “Who told you to ignore my calls? I’m going to throw a fit, I don’t care!” Caleb didn’t say a word. He just reached out, gripped her waist, pinned her against the wall, and kissed her. “Alright, are you quite finished?” The sound of ragged breathing and wet, heavy kisses echoed through the dim room. I clenched my fists, my body rigidly frozen on the couch. I was nailed to the spot by a crushing, overwhelming sense of absurdity, using every ounce of my willpower to keep my eyes shut. Jasmine. Caleb. I had never, not even once, linked the two of them together. Even last month, when I saw the shocking hickey on her neck and noticed how unusually red Caleb’s lips were, my mind hadn’t gone there. After all, Caleb was always so reserved. In our six years together, he rarely even initiated a deep kiss, let alone left a mark. Over the years, the two of them barely interacted. I was their only bridge. Occasionally, Jasmine would come over for dinner. She would always sit glued to my side, politely nodding at him and calling him “Caleb.” Caleb would quietly retreat to the kitchen to wash the dishes, tossing out a casual, “You girls catch up.” Whenever Jasmine left, Caleb would always walk her down to the lobby with me, watching until her Uber pulled away before turning back. “Text when you get home.” Back then, I used to tease him. I asked how a guy who was too lazy to go downstairs for his Amazon packages was suddenly so diligent about seeing guests out. But now, I understood. In the booth, they kissed with reckless abandon until they knocked over an empty beer bottle on the edge of the table. It rolled across the floor, clattering loudly toward me. Caleb instinctively pulled Jasmine tighter against his chest. Once she was steady, he turned his head and shot a glance at me on the sofa. I hurriedly squeezed my eyes shut in a panic. I didn’t even dare to wonder—was he worried about me, or was he just checking to see if I had woken up? By the time I snapped out of my daze, they were gone. The heat in the booth was blasting, but draped over my shoulders was Caleb’s wool coat. He was always like this. Even if he rushed the girl with the 0.1-degree higher fever to the ER first, he would still order a courier to deliver medicine to my door. Even if he gave my mother’s kidney to Jasmine, he would spend a fortune booking a new specialist for my mom. I used to think that was his way of showing he cared. But now I realized… he just wanted to make sure I never felt like I was being shortchanged. I closed my eyes and let out a bitter laugh, feeling ridiculously slow. It was so obvious. How had I never seen it? I stayed there until dawn broke. When I finally walked out, my legs felt like lead, my face pale as a ghost. When I pushed open the door to our apartment, a lavish breakfast was already laid out. The two of them were sitting at opposite, diagonal corners of the dining table. The furthest possible distance apart. The spread was massive. For six years, Caleb had always made breakfast. He never let me lift a finger in the kitchen. But today’s meal was undeniably different from any morning in the past six years. Seeing me, Caleb breathed a visible sigh of relief. “Are you okay? It was an emergency last night. Jasmine was so much more intoxicated, so I just brought her back here first to be safe.” Jasmine stood up, her face a mask of deep guilt. “It’s all my fault. I was sulking over my own drama and forced you to drink with me. I’m so sorry, Chloe.” I let her pull me toward the chair right next to Caleb’s. The moment I sat down, I realized the seat cushion was still warm. I lowered my eyes. “Did you make up with your boyfriend?” She froze for a second, then let out a relieved laugh. “We did! He actually stood outside my apartment building in the freezing cold for two hours last night begging for forgiveness. I took pity on him and let it slide!” As she spoke, she shot a lightning-fast glance at Caleb. Caleb didn’t look at her, but beneath the table, his foot gently nudged hers. I saw all of it. A suffocating wave of sorrow crashed over my heart. Jasmine sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder. “Chloe, do you think I’m too high-maintenance? I’m always losing my temper with him. Honestly, I’m terrified he’ll just get sick of me one day. My attitude sucks, and I’m practically useless at everything…” I opened my mouth to speak, but Caleb—who never interrupted our girl-talk—suddenly chimed in. “You’re not useless.” He looked straight into Jasmine’s eyes. His tone was so fiercely earnest, as if he was terrified she would actually believe her own insecurities. The room went dead silent for a second. Caleb seemed to realize what he had just done. He paused, clearing his throat. “I mean, I don’t know you that well, but Chloe always tells me how amazing you are.” Jasmine’s eyes curved into a sweet smile. She nudged my arm. “Really? What kind of things does Chloe say about me? Let’s hear it.” Caleb listed them off without missing a beat. “She says you’re kind, generous, you’re a brilliant painter, you make the best pour-over coffee, you have an incredible memory, and… you’re really cute.” I stared down at my lap, utterly paralyzed. A brilliant painter, makes the best coffee, an incredible memory… I had never said any of those things to Caleb. I just sat there, forced to watch Caleb use my name as a shield to confess his love to Jasmine. And as I sat there, I started noticing all the little details I had been too blind to see before. I noticed that while they sat far apart, they were perfectly angled to see each other whenever they looked up. I noticed that the majority of the meat dishes were clustered on Jasmine’s side of the table. I noticed that the cute cat-shaped ceramic mug Jasmine was drinking from was something I had never seen in our apartment before. Whenever she came over, an entire matching set of dishware would magically appear. And then I noticed. I didn’t know how many times I had missed it, but right now, beneath the table, their legs were tightly intertwined. They were looking at each other from across the table, their gazes so intensely locked that there wasn’t an inch of room for me to exist. My eyes suddenly burned. “Chloe?” Caleb looked at me, suppressing the anxiety in his voice, his eyes flashing with guilt. “What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?” I didn’t answer. I pushed away the slice of cinnamon pecan bread—Jasmine’s favorite—stood up, and walked out. I hailed a cab and went straight to my office. I handed in my resignation letter and started packing my desk. My coworker poked her head over the cubicle. “Chloe, what are you doing?” “I quit.” I tossed the framed photo of Caleb and me into the trash. “I need a change of scenery. I’m going to travel abroad for a bit.” She blinked in shock. “By yourself? What about Caleb? Let me guess, another ’emergency’?” I forced a tight smile and didn’t answer. In the past, I had brought it up countless times. The Charles Bridge in Prague, the Northern Lights in Norway, the black sand beaches in Iceland. But every single time, Caleb had something more urgent to do. “I can’t, my sister is moving, I have to help.” “I promised the guys we’d shoot hoops this weekend, let’s do it next year.” In Caleb’s world, even a last-minute pickup basketball game took priority over me. Well, now, I was going alone. My coworker swiped through her phone and muttered, “Some people just get all the luck. How does Jasmine from the design department have such a perfect life? Her boyfriend took her to Iceland to see the auroras last year, Prague last month, and I just saw a post of her kayaking in Norway last week! Chloe, you need a man like that.” My hand froze. Every single place she just listed were the exact destinations I had endlessly begged Caleb to take me to. I instinctively pulled up Jasmine’s Instagram. Her latest post visible to me was from two years ago. But my coworker just said she saw a post last week. “Which post did you see?” My voice was tight. My coworker turned her screen toward me. Jasmine was flashing a peace sign by a breathtaking Norwegian fjord. The caption read: With the right person, anywhere is paradise. Location: Norway. I swiped through the carousel. By the seventh photo, my breathing completely stopped. Reflected in the window of a train was the silhouette of a man holding a camera. It only showed half of his shoulder. But that coat—I was the one who picked it out for Caleb’s birthday. A tidal wave of memories crashed into me. New Year’s Eve last year. Both of them claimed their companies had mandatory late-night galas. I counted down to midnight alone in my living room. Valentine’s Day last month. Both of them said they were slammed with project deadlines. I ate the romantic dinner I booked all by myself. My birthday last week. Caleb, who never travels for work, suddenly announced a business trip to Norway. Jasmine coincidentally took her paid vacation time the exact same week. Piece by piece. Everything fit perfectly. The truth poured over me like ice water, freezing me to the bone, turning my fingertips numb. Ding. A new photo popped up on Jasmine’s story on my coworker’s phone. It was outside the upscale Italian restaurant we always went to. A massive floral archway had been erected by the entrance, draped with a banner: [Happy 520 Days of Love, Caleb & Jasmine.] I went completely still. Today was my six-year anniversary with Caleb. We had agreed that today was the day we would finally go look at wedding dresses. But just yesterday, Caleb had sat me down and said: “Chloe, let’s hold off on the wedding dresses for a bit.” I looked at him. “Why?” He didn’t even blink. “Tomorrow is the anniversary of Jasmine’s mother’s passing. It’s just not appropriate for us to be celebrating something so happy right now. Let’s do it next time.” I gripped my phone, my knuckles turning white. “It’s fine, Jasmine won’t mind. Plus, we’ve pushed this back four times already, if we wait any longer…” He cut me off, his tone chillingly detached. “Just because she says she doesn’t mind, does that mean we pretend we don’t know she’s grieving? My conscience won’t allow it.” “In your heart, is a piece of fabric more important than Jasmine’s feelings? She’s your best friend.” But you are my boyfriend. I never said those words out loud. Without another thought, I rushed downstairs and hailed a taxi. When I arrived, I stood on the sidewalk. Across the busy street, I watched the two of them wrapped in a tight embrace. I watched the floral wall wrapped in white tulle and fresh jasmine flowers, the ribbons dancing in the wind. I watched all of Caleb’s friends—people I had never even met—laughing and handing Jasmine congratulatory envelopes. I watched Jasmine, her eyes red, bury her face in Caleb’s chest and whisper softly: “Mom, can you see me? Someone is finally taking care of me.” It was all so beautifully cinematic. If only they weren’t my best friend and my boyfriend. Late that night, Caleb stumbled through the front door reeking of alcohol. He collapsed onto the couch. “Jas… don’t cry…” “From now on… I’ve got you.” I sat in the dark living room, listening in complete silence. Listening to my boyfriend, blackout drunk, making lifelong promises to another woman in his dreams. The next morning, I woke up early. When I opened my bedroom door, Caleb was walking out of the kitchen holding a steaming bowl of oatmeal. Seeing me, he paused in his tracks and asked casually: “I drank way too much last night. I didn’t say anything stupid, did I?” Noticing my gaze on the bowl in his hands, he quickly covered his tracks. “My stomach is killing me, so I ordered myself some oatmeal.” I gave a faint “No.” I pretended I didn’t hear the hum of the kitchen exhaust fan. I didn’t point out that he was deathly allergic to pecans, meaning there was absolutely no way he bought that blueberry pecan oatmeal for himself. I also didn’t ask why, if he was going to eat it himself, he had packed it neatly into a pink insulated thermos. I looked away, grabbed the suitcase I had packed the night before, and walked out the door. After my mother passed away, her art studio had remained locked. Many of her original oil paintings were still inside, and I wanted to donate them all to the National Art Gallery. Carrying a heavy cardboard box full of canvases and sketches, I stood on the curb trying to hail an Uber. Suddenly, the screech of an engine tore through the air. Before I could dodge, I was clipped hard and sent tumbling to the pavement. The box flew out of my arms. Ignoring the burning pain shooting up my leg, I scrambled desperately toward the scattered papers. But it was too late. The muddy water from the gutter had already soaked through them. I fell to my knees, my blood running cold. Forty years. My mother’s entire life’s work, completely destroyed on my watch. The car door flew open, and Jasmine rushed out, her face deathly pale. “Chloe?! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She grabbed my arm, tears streaming down her face. “I was taking a sip of my oatmeal, I got distracted, I didn’t look…” I looked past her at the driver’s seat of her car. Spilled all over the dashboard was blueberry pecan oatmeal. The thermos was the exact same pink one Caleb had been holding this morning. I shoved her off me and pulled out my phone to dial 911. Jasmine panicked and grabbed my hand. “Chloe, please don’t call the cops! I… I can’t afford to pay for this.” When my mother was alive, she was one of the most renowned contemporary artists in the country. A single painting could sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars. She was right. She could never afford to replace them. But that wasn’t a valid excuse. Seeing that I was determined to dial, she suddenly dropped to her knees on the concrete and started violently banging her head against the ground. “It’s my fault! It’s all my fault!” Blood mixed with the dirt, turning her forehead into a horrific, blurry mess. When Caleb finally arrived, he saw the soaked masterpieces on the ground and my scraped, bleeding leg. His eyes immediately went bloodshot. “Who did this?!” Looking at him, I was reminded of how, in the past, whenever something went wrong, he would instinctively stand by my side. My nose stung. Before I could even open my mouth… Jasmine, still kneeling on the ground, tilted her tear-stained face upward and sobbed: “Caleb…” Caleb froze. The second he saw her bleeding forehead, he dropped to a crouch, pressing his thumb gently against her wound to stop the bleeding. “What happened?” Jasmine looked at him, weeping hysterically. “I really didn’t mean to… Please beg Chloe for me, I really can’t afford to pay her back…” A police officer walked over, asking if I was the one who reported the accident. Caleb helped Jasmine to her feet, his voice lacking even a single shred of hesitation. “No, officer. It was a misdial.” My head snapped up. “Caleb, this is my mother’s life’s work.” “She died because of you.” If he hadn’t forced me to give up my mother’s kidney match to Jasmine, my mom could have lived at least another three years. Caleb’s arm around Jasmine stiffened. But when he met the tear rolling down Jasmine’s cheek, whatever flicker of guilt he had vanished instantly. “It’s just a few paintings. I’ll pay you back for them.” “You can’t afford it.” “Then what do you want?” His voice turned icy. “Chloe, Jasmine is a living, breathing human being. Is she really worth less to you than some ruined canvas?” Some ruined canvas. Hearing those words, I stood frozen for a very long time. I thought I would be screaming, ripping my hair out in agony. But in the end, all I did was slowly bend down, picking up the soaked, ruined pages from the mud, folding them one by one. My heart felt like it had been pulverized into dust and stuffed back into my chest. The pain had peaked, leaving behind nothing but dead silence. I kept my eyes down. My voice was so quiet it carried no emotion at all. “Caleb, why are you always protecting her?” Jasmine’s eyes immediately went red. “Chloe, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.” “But I really can’t afford this. I’m finally up for Senior Art Director at my agency. If this goes on a police record, my career is completely over!” “Plus… your mom used to always say we should be kind and forgiving. She was such a gentle soul, she would definitely forgive me.” “Do not talk about my mother!” Jasmine and I grew up together. Her parents divorced early and abandoned her. My mom felt terrible for her, always inviting her over for dinner, even setting up a spare bedroom just for her. When Jasmine got her first period, my mom was the one who taught her what to do. My mom was the one who went to her parent-teacher conferences. The day we both got accepted into art school, Jasmine hugged my mom and bawled, promising she would honor her like her own mother forever. And now that she was finally successful, her repayment was indirectly killing my mother, and stealing my man. Caleb walked over and patted my head. “Chloe, I’m not protecting her.” “It’s just common sense. A few lifeless paintings aren’t more important than a human being’s future. Especially since you and Jas are such good friends.” It was always like this. In his mind, there was a strict hierarchy of priorities. And it seemed that whenever Jasmine was involved, my grievances, my sacrifices, and my pain were automatically voided. “And what if I say no?” Caleb stared at me for a few seconds. Then, he pulled a bank card out of his wallet. “Whatever Jasmine owes you, I’ll pay it for her.” My brain buzzed, my vision going black at the edges. When we decided to build a life together, I gave Caleb my debit card to manage our savings. I wanted to show him that everything I had was his to share. I never imagined that one day, it would become the blade he used to stab me. “That is my money.” “Exactly, which means the decision is yours.” Caleb shoved the card into Jasmine’s trembling hands. “As long as you drop the charges, I will return every cent of this money to you. The dream wedding you wanted? I can give that to you too.” “Don’t forget, the inheritance your mother left you is also on this card.” Jasmine frantically tried to shove it back. “Caleb, are you crazy?! That’s Chloe’s inheritance from her mom, I can’t take this!” “Besides, we don’t even know the PIN! What’s the point of giving this to me?!” She threw herself at my feet, crying so hard she was gasping for air. “I’ll go to your mom’s grave and kowtow to apologize, okay?!” “Please just let this go! You know how hard my childhood was, I can’t afford to lose my job!” Caleb looked at me, his gaze incredibly distant. “Chloe, take a guess. Do you think I know the PIN?” Of course he knew. Because every single one of my passwords was our anniversary date plus his birthday. He stood in front of Jasmine, his back ramrod straight. Once upon a time, those arms held me, protected me, shielded me from the biting winter wind. Now, they were forming an impenetrable wall between me and Jasmine. I looked at him, the tears finally shattering against the pavement. I opened my mouth, my voice so raspy it was barely a whisper. “Caleb, I’m only going to ask you one question. If you answer it, I’ll let her go. Okay?” Caleb hesitated, then nodded. I spoke, every single word feeling like I was physically ripping myself apart. “If it was me who destroyed her mother’s belongings today… would you have treated me the same way?” We had known each other too long. The second the words left my mouth, he knew exactly what I was actually asking. Caleb didn’t say a word. I asked again. “That year… was her mother’s condition actually worse than my mom’s?” He remained silent for even longer. And that silence was infinitely more brutal than any cruel word he could have spoken. After a long time, he finally spoke, the whites of his eyes webbed with red veins. “Chloe, they’re gone. These hypotheticals have no meaning.” I let out a soft laugh, wiped the tears from my eyes, and nodded. “Okay.” I pulled the engagement ring off my left hand and tossed it at Caleb’s feet, my heart turning to pure ash. “I won’t press charges.” Caleb’s face darkened, as if he suddenly realized what was happening. “Chloe, what is the meaning of this?” I turned on my heel and walked away, never looking back. Because just last night, while Caleb was drunkenly chanting Jasmine’s name over and over again… I had finally noticed that the inside of this engagement ring I had worn for two years… Wasn’t engraved with a rose. It was engraved with a jasmine blossom. Jasmine’s flower. “Where are you going?!” Caleb finally noticed the suitcase by my side. His voice cracked with genuine panic. “A work trip.” “For how long?!” I didn’t answer. Caleb’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper. But when Jasmine let out a soft, pained whimper behind him, he turned around and walked back toward her. Just like every other time. As long as Jasmine appeared more fragile than me, I would always be the one left behind. But this time, I wasn’t going to wait for him anymore.

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Every year on April Fool’s Day, my husband, Carter, would play a game of “I Dare You” with his childhood sweetheart, Chloe. “Remember eighth grade? I dared you not to turn in your homework, and you folded your essay into paper airplanes,” Carter said, leaning back in his chair with a nostalgic grin. “That was nothing,” Chloe shot back. “Sophomore year, I dared you to steal the principal’s glasses, and you took his toupee along with it.” I stood in the doorway, my fingers tightly gripping an ultrasound printout. We had been married for five years. After countless hospital visits and endless disappointment, I had finally found out I was pregnant today. Chloe glanced up and saw me. She lifted her chin, turned to Carter, and dragged out her words: “Let’s play for real today. Carter, I dare you to go to the courthouse and marry me right now.” Whistles and cheers erupted from their friends around the room. Carter turned to look at me and chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I? Give me a second.” He stood up, walked over, and grabbed my arm, pulling me out into the hallway. “Harper, everyone’s watching. Don’t be a buzzkill,” he said lightly, arranging my life as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “It’s just an April Fool’s joke. Play along and sign the divorce papers with me today, and we’ll get remarried first thing tomorrow morning. I can’t back down from a dare in front of Chloe.” I stared at the man in front of me. For the sake of his so-called “childhood games,” I had compromised for five years. This time, I hid my hands behind my back, crumpling the paper. “But I’m pregnant.” … “Harper, that’s a brilliant move!” Carter paused for a second before bursting into laughter. “Making up a pregnancy just to stop me from winning? Alright, you’re better at April Fool’s than I am.” Chloe drawled from inside, “Harper, it’s just a game. If you’re a sore loser, just say so. Joking about a baby is kind of messed up.” “Exactly,” Carter said, his grip on my wrist tightening with surprising force. “Come on, let’s go. If we’re too late, the county clerk’s office will close, and how am I supposed to get my marriage license?” He dragged me outside, his strides long and hurried. Five years. He had built his publishing company from the ground up, all the way to a public listing, entirely off the back of the novels I wrote. Yet every year, I had to endure his absurd pranks on April Fool’s Day, all to indulge Chloe. On the way to the lawyer’s office, Carter drove like a maniac. When we arrived, he grabbed the expedited divorce agreement the attorney had prepped and slapped it in front of me. “Hurry up and sign. I still have to get to the courthouse with Chloe,” he urged, tapping his knuckles on the desk. I picked up the pen and looked at the name “Carter Hayes” printed on the paper. “Fine. I’ll give you what you want.” I signed my name without a second of hesitation. The notary stamped it. Five years of marriage came to a ridiculous end. With the papers signed, Carter turned around, grabbed a brand-new suit from his trunk, and changed. Chloe pulled out a pristine white veil and pinned it to her hair. They had even booked a makeup artist in advance. The two of them sat under ring lights, letting the artist touch up their faces. I sat in a chair, watching it all unfold. Five years ago, on the day Carter and I got our marriage license, he wore a faded t-shirt, ripped jeans, and flip-flops. When I asked him to change, he said true love didn’t need superficial packaging. Authenticity was what mattered. Now, wearing a tailored suit, he wrapped his arm tightly around Chloe’s waist, smiling radiantly for the camera. Click. The frame froze. A picture-perfect couple. A little while later, Carter walked over to me, waving the freshly stamped marriage certificate. “See that, babe? I won again. We’ll remarry first thing tomorrow morning. Don’t be mad, it’s just for the memories.” My early pregnancy nausea hit me like a wave. I barely had the strength to stand. “Take me back,” I said, swallowing the bile in my throat. “I need to pack my things.” I opened the passenger side door, but before I could get in, Chloe squeezed past me. “Harper, if we’re doing this, we have to do it right. Since Carter and I are legally married now, the passenger seat is mine,” she said with absolute entitlement, sliding in. With a casual wave of her hand, she swept my plush throw pillow and the dashboard ornaments I had bought onto the floor mats. Standing by the hood of the car, Carter gave me an apologetic shrug. I turned around and walked toward the street to hail a cab. Carter jogged after me, opened the rear door, and practically shoved me inside. “Stop throwing a tantrum, it’s hard to get an Uber out here. Just sit down.” The car stereo was blasting Bruno Mars’ “Marry You.” Chloe hummed along to the beat, and when the chorus hit, she reached over and tugged on Carter’s sleeve. “Just say I do…” Carter seamlessly sang the next line. They exchanged a look and burst into laughter. She twisted the cap off a bottle of water, took a sip, and held it to Carter’s lips. He drank from her hand, looking exactly like a newlywed groom. “Your collar is crooked, Carter,” Chloe said, leaning sideways and reaching over to fix his tie. Her fingertips brushed against his Adam’s apple as she pressed half her body weight onto him. Carter didn’t pull away. Instead, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he wrapped his other arm around her back. “Stop messing around, I’m driving,” he scolded, though his voice was entirely indulgent. I leaned my head against the cold window of the backseat, the acid rising in my stomach again. I closed my eyes and placed a protective hand over my lower abdomen. Today, this pathetic joke was finally coming to an end. The moment I pushed the front door open, my mother-in-law rushed forward, grabbing Chloe’s hand and slipping a vintage diamond tennis bracelet onto her wrist. She put on a playfully scolding tone. “Carter told me everything. You kids are absolutely crazy.” “Chloe, honey, I always knew you two were meant for each other. If it weren’t for back then…” Mrs. Hayes caught sight of me taking off my shoes out of the corner of her eye and turned her face away. “…you were always the perfect pair.” Carter stepped between them. “Mom, it’s just a joke. We’re messing around for April Fool’s.” Mrs. Hayes patted Chloe’s hand. “Sigh. I just wish it could stay this way forever.” I didn’t say a word. I walked right past them, went into the master bedroom, and pulled out my suitcase. I hadn’t even folded two shirts before Carter followed me in. “Harper, everyone’s here today. Don’t be a buzzkill,” he said, lowering his voice. “Let’s all have dinner tonight to celebrate.” I brushed his hand away and kept packing. “Tomorrow is the launch of the final book in your Nightwalker trilogy. I invited the whole publishing team over. Let’s treat it as a wrap party.” I stopped. I had poured three years of my life into that trilogy. Endless nights of staying up till dawn, rewriting draft after draft. If I caused a massive scene right now, tomorrow’s book launch would definitely be affected. I closed the suitcase. “Fine. After this dinner, I’m gone.” Carter beamed, turning around to head back to the living room and make some calls. I decided to treat it as my farewell dinner with the team. Not long after, Chloe leaned against the kitchen doorframe, lifting her chin at me. “Harper, since you’re divorced now, you should at least be useful around the house, right? Carter works so hard running the company all by himself. You just sit at home all day. Shouldn’t you be the one making dinner?” Carter sat on the couch sipping his coffee. He didn’t say a word to defend me. Over half of Hayes Publishing’s revenue came from the books I had typed out, word by word, in this very house. And now, I was being treated like the lazy housewife. My mother-in-law chimed in. “The maid is off today. Be a dear and help out, Harper. The guests will be here soon.” Not wanting my final dinner with my editorial team to end in a shouting match, I rolled up my sleeves and walked into the kitchen. The churning in my stomach hadn’t stopped, and my lower abdomen was throbbing with dull, rhythmic cramps. I chopped vegetables, turned on the stove, and dropped the meat into the sizzling pan. Chloe stood off to the side, acting completely like the lady of the house. “Put more garlic in the roast, Carter hates it bland. Don’t overcook the asparagus.” The editors started arriving one by one. Matt, my lead editor, couldn’t stand watching it anymore. He rolled up his sleeves and walked into the kitchen to help me wash the vegetables. Chloe immediately shoved him aside. “Excuse me, do you have no manners? You’re a guest in my house. Trying to do the cooking is a slap in the face to the hostess.” Matt’s face turned bright red, and he retreated to the living room. I brought out the last dish—a beautiful homemade pot roast. Six entrees and a soup, covering the dining table. Just as I untied my apron, the doorbell rang. Chloe ran to open it. Several delivery drivers walked in carrying massive insulated bags. “I saw that Harper only made basic, home-cooked food. That’s definitely not good enough for our guests,” Chloe announced, directing the delivery guys to unpack exquisite takeout boxes. “So I just took my husband’s card and ordered a few things myself.” Caviar, Maine lobster tails, Wagyu beef, truffle risotto. The table was out of space. Chloe picked up the pot roast I had just finished cooking and dumped it—meat, gravy, and all—straight into the trash can to make room for her seafood. Carter didn’t mind at all. He handed her a napkin to wipe her hands. “You’re always so thoughtful.” I had reached my absolute limit. Just as I took a step forward, someone grabbed my sleeve. Matt leaned in close, sliding his phone screen toward me. His voice was barely a whisper. “Harper, you need to see this.” It was a proof of the promotional poster the publisher had just sent him for approval. Under the “Author” section, right in front of my name, was another name in bold print: Chloe Jenkins. I snatched the phone and slammed it down right in front of Carter. “Why?” I demanded, staring dead into his eyes. Carter walked over with an easy smile. “Harper, my bad. I forgot to tell you.” “I want to split the author credit with her. I already promised Chloe I’d do it. You love me so much, you wouldn’t mind doing me this tiny favor, right?” “I bled for three years to write this book. Why the hell should she get half the credit?” “How can you say it’s just your credit?” Carter raised his voice, though he tried to sound reasonable. “It’s a team effort. Chloe is the new flagship author our company is going to push this year. I’ve already poured a ton of resources into her, but she needs a stepping stone. A guaranteed hit to put her on the map.” “So you’re using my masterpiece as a cheap marketing stunt for her?” Carter started losing his patience. “Harper, don’t be ungrateful. Every book you’ve ever written was marketed with my money. Without me, you’d be nobody. What’s the big deal about sharing one book to help a rookie out?” I stood up, getting right in his face. “The copyright is in my name. You have no legal right to add hers.” Chloe walked over, clinging intimately to Carter’s arm, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Carter, the food is getting cold. Everyone’s waiting to eat.” Carter patted her hand to comfort her, then glanced at me. “Let’s eat first. We can talk about this tomorrow.” I ignored the table full of people, grabbed my car keys, and stormed out the door. By the time I drove to the publishing house, the massive billboard was already unfurled. Eighty percent of the poster featured a glamorous photo of Chloe, accompanied by a massive bio that even hinted at her romantic history with Carter. My name was squeezed into a tiny corner at the bottom. Ryan, the head of the publishing department and Carter’s childhood friend, was sitting in his office smoking a cigarette. “Harper, my hands are tied. Carter called me personally and ordered a rush print job overnight. Besides, Hayes Publishing is a family business between you two. Does it really matter whose name is on it as long as it makes money?” I felt ice cold all over. Carter’s “we can talk about it tomorrow” was just a stalling tactic! I turned, ran downstairs, and drove like a madwoman back to the Hayes house. When I burst through the door, the dinner party was over. Carter was sitting on the couch, watching TV with Chloe. “How could you do this?!” I screamed. “That was my life’s work!” Carter didn’t even flinch. His tone was dismissive. “I told you, we’re just borrowing your fame for a bit. Once Chloe’s name is out there, I’ll have them remove it for the next printing.” Chloe’s eyes welled up with tears. “Harper, it’s all my fault. Please don’t be mad at Carter. If it’s this much trouble, I won’t be a writer. I’ll give the book back. I just saw how stressed Carter is running the company and wanted to help him shoulder the burden.” “This has nothing to do with you!” I snapped. But Carter instantly pulled her into his arms, shielding her fiercely. “Pushing Chloe into the spotlight is the company’s new strategy. I’d appreciate it if you stopped being so jealous of her.” “I think you’re forgetting what I just said. Let me remind you!” “Oh, by the way,” Carter cut in, his voice cold. “Tonight, Chloe is Mrs. Hayes. So I’m going to have to ask you to leave and cool your head.” I pulled the divorce papers from my bag and threw them directly at his face. “I was planning to leave tonight anyway. Now, there’s absolutely no reason for us to ever speak again.” The heavy packet of papers smacked Carter right across the bridge of his nose. “Fine! Have it your way!” Carter yelled, clutching his nose. “Since you don’t want to be Mrs. Hayes, I’m freezing your credit cards and bank accounts right now.” He picked up his phone and called the neighborhood security. Two bouncers showed up at the door, looking incredibly awkward. Carter pointed at me. “I divorced this woman today. She’s trespassing and harassing me and my wife. Drag her out of here. Throw her on the street.” Left with no choice, the security guards grabbed my arms and forcibly dragged me out. Carter’s voice followed me. “Harper, you leave me, and you won’t even be able to afford a meal! I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back tomorrow morning to remarry me. As for that book, consider it your wedding gift to Chloe.” The guards shoved me out the front gates. My foot slipped, and I crashed hard into a muddy puddle left over from the rain. I pushed myself up off the ground, clutching my stomach as I stumbled toward the edge of the road. Suddenly, a delivery van lost control coming around the corner, barreling straight toward me. The piercing screech of tires ripped through the night air. I dodged the direct impact, but the momentum threw me violently onto the rough asphalt. A sharp, stabbing cramp ripped through my abdomen—more intense than anything I had felt all day. The ambulance was still an hour out. Desperate, I leaned against a streetlamp and dialed my emergency contact. Carter was close. He arrived fast. He threw his car door open, but the moment his eyes landed on the blood pooling on my skirt, he froze. “Harper, what the hell did you do?” he asked, bending down to pick me up. Just then, Chloe’s name lit up on his phone screen. “It’s almost midnight, hubby. If you don’t show up before the clock strikes twelve, you lose the dare.” Carter’s hands stopped in mid-air. He stared at the dashboard screen, then looked down at me. “Help me,” I gasped, my fingers weakly gripping his cuff. “Harper, do me a favor,” Carter said, slowly prying my fingers off his sleeve one by one. “I’ve never lost a game to her in my life. I can see you just twisted your ankle. I’ll call another ambulance for you.” He pulled me away from his car door, pulled two hundred-dollar bills from his wallet, and shoved them into my hand. “I’ll come check on you in a bit!” The exhaust fumes blasted my face. I lay in the freezing puddle, screaming at the retreating taillights. “Carter Hayes! I’m pregnant with your child, you bastard!” Only the sound of the rain answered me. The brake lights on his car never even flickered. My vision began to blur. A white Toyota pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Matt’s exhausted, pale face. “Oh my god… Harper!” He scrambled out of the car and half-carried, half-dragged me into the backseat. At the hospital ER. A nurse ran over with a long printout. “Where is the family? The patient is hemorrhaging, and her cards were all declined! We need the deposit paid and the surgery consent signed immediately!” I was doubled over in agony. Gripping the edge of the gurney, I turned my head to look at Matt. “Matt. Please. Sign it.” Matt grabbed the pen, his hand shaking violently. “Harper, this is a surgical consent form. How can I sign this?” I gritted my teeth, swallowing the coppery taste of blood in my throat. “It’s April Fool’s Day. Just pretend it’s a prank. Dare you to play my husband for the night.” Matt’s face flushed bright red. He pulled out his phone to pay the deposit and scribbled his name on the line. “Harper… that’s a hell of a prank.” The blinding surgical lights flicked on above me. The doctors and nurses were barking orders at lightning speed. “Blood pressure dropping!” “Hemorrhagic shock, prep for a transfusion!” Cold instruments invaded my body. The heart monitor shrieked a high-pitched alarm. Right before I completely lost consciousness, I heard the doctor sigh. “We can’t save the baby. Just focus on keeping the mother alive.” When I woke up, the anesthesia hadn’t fully worn off yet. But I could feel an agonizing, soul-tearing pain. An emptiness—like a piece of my flesh and blood had been gouged out—radiated from my womb to the rest of my body. A life I hadn’t even had time to truly acknowledge had been there. And now, they were gone. Along with the absolute last shred of attachment I had for Carter. It was all gone. Matt sat by the bed, completely at a loss for words. I reached for my phone and scrolled through my contacts. “Matt. Contact my old publisher. Starlight Media.” Matt froze. “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to collect my debts.” The phone screen lit up. The time ticked over to 12:01 AM. “April Fool’s is over.” A text message from Carter popped up. “Joke’s over. See you at the courthouse tomorrow morning at 9 AM. Don’t be late.”

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For five years, I was the secret girlfriend of Jace, a top-tier rally racing champion. He had just secured his third consecutive championship title. By tradition, the champion would draw a random fan from the audience to experience the thrill of the passenger seat—the exclusive co-driver’s spot. Every year, I prayed he would draw my name. But his “luck” was always terrible, and he would somehow always draw his navigator, Chloe. Until this year. The organizers changed the rules, allowing the champion to actively invite a guest. I finally couldn’t hold back. “I’ve never sat in your passenger seat. This year… could you invite me?” “We’re getting married soon. I want to stand beside you,” I pleaded softly. Jace smiled and agreed. Right before the race, I sneaked into the paddock to cheer him on, only to overhear the other racers whispering to him. “Jace, are you seriously going to throw the race? It was one thing when you rigged the lottery to get Chloe, but are you really not going to invite your fiancée this time either?” Jace’s tone was completely indifferent. “This way, I can protect Chloe’s exclusive spot and keep Harper off my back. It’s a win-win. Besides, she doesn’t even understand racing. She doesn’t deserve to sit in my passenger seat.” “Aren’t you afraid your fiancée will run off?” He scoffed. “She’s so desperate she’d pay me to marry her. Our wedding is right around the corner; she’s not going anywhere. Plus, if she left me, who else would want damaged goods like her?” A win-win. Damaged goods. Those words turned into sharp blades, stabbing ruthlessly into my chest. I covered my mouth tightly, letting the tears stream down my face. Since that’s how it is, I don’t want to wait for your passenger seat anymore. …… Deafening cheers erupted across the track. The announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers: “And the champion, still our reigning King of the Track, Jace!” I saw it clearly. Jace had intentionally made several mistakes mid-race. But he still couldn’t lose. The jumbotron showed a close-up of him. He stepped out of his race car with a cold, focused expression. But when he walked around to open the door for Chloe and took her hand, his eyes softened completely. Two girls standing next to me suddenly squealed. “Ahhh, so sweet! Are they dating?” “Probably! Look at the way he looks at her, it could melt her right on the spot!” My eyes began to sting. We had been dating for five years, yet outside of our immediate friend group, no one knew about us. Meanwhile, Chloe had been his navigator for three years, and he had blatantly favored her in front of the world for just as long. If she said she didn’t want to train alone, Jace would abandon our dates in a heartbeat to accompany her at the racing club. If she said she liked the comfort of his passenger seat, I was permanently banned from sitting there. Whenever I questioned it, he would offer the same careless excuse. “Recalibrating the co-driver’s seat is a hassle. It delays my training.” On the podium, the announcer’s voice grew mysterious. “Now, please invite your lucky guest to experience the champion’s passenger seat!” The entire crowd held its breath. Jace lazily lifted his gaze, scanning the stands until his eyes locked onto mine. I clenched my fists. Despite everything, a fragile, trembling thread of hope rose in my chest. But then, with absolute nonchalance, he looked away and made a grand, inviting gesture toward Chloe. “My navigator. After you.” Chloe looked shocked for a second. Her eyes grew red with emotion as she placed her hand in his. “It’s my honor.” My phone buzzed. A text from Jace: Let Chloe have it this time. Once we go public after the wedding, the seat is all yours. Always making me wait. Wait until his training is over, wait until he wins the championship, wait until after the wedding. I had waited for five years. Staring at the message on my screen, my throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton. It hurt to breathe. Amidst the roaring crowd, Jace escorted Chloe into the passenger seat, revved the engine, and sped off. Without a moment of hesitation, he drove the car straight to the end of the track. The stadium fell silent for a split second. Then, a massive wave of shrieks and cheers erupted. The end of the track was famously known as “Lover’s Point.” It was an unspoken tradition. If you drove the girl you liked to the finish line and confessed your love, you were destined to be together forever. Soon, the two stepped out of the car, and reporters swarmed them. “Jace, do you know this is Lover’s Point?” “Chloe, are you and Jace officially dating?” “Can you give us an answer? Everyone is dying to know!” Under the crowd’s expectant gaze, Chloe lowered her head shyly, practically confirming the rumors. My breath caught in my throat as I stared fixedly at Jace on the massive screen. He just let out a low, careless chuckle. He didn’t deny it. The atmosphere boiled over. The audience screamed in excitement, and people immediately started posting the clip online. “Oh my god! The ship I’ve been sailing for three years is finally real!” I lowered my eyes. The very last shred of love I had for him evaporated into the air, carried away by his laughter. I opened my phone and pulled up the booking for our wedding venue—a reservation I had waited an entire year to secure. A prompt popped up: Canceling this reservation requires forfeiting your deposit. Are you sure you want to cancel? I tapped Confirm. I looked up, took one last quiet look at them on the screen, and turned away. Walking out of the stadium, I tried to call a ride to the airport. Because the race had just ended, the area was swamped. I waited a long time, but no driver accepted my request. I decided to walk further down the road where it was quieter. Just as I took a step, a familiar voice called out from behind. I turned around. Jace walked up and casually ruffled my hair. “Why did you run off all the way out here? Everyone is waiting for us. The victory banquet is about to start. If we don’t go now, we’ll be late.” His tone was completely normal, devoid of any guilt. It was as if he wasn’t the man who had just invited another woman into his car and driven her to Lover’s Point. “I’m not going,” I said flatly. Jace paused. A flicker of impatience crossed his face as he grabbed my wrist to pull me along. “What kind of tantrum are you throwing now? Don’t tell me it’s because I didn’t invite you. I already explained it. Once we go public after the wedding, you can sit there whenever you want.” “I don’t have the energy to coax you right now. The media, the team—I have a million things to deal with. Everyone else knows how to be considerate of me, but you only ever care about your own feelings.” Everyone else. He meant Chloe. I didn’t say a word, just let him drag me toward the restaurant. I figured it was better to make things crystal clear before I left for good. When he pushed open the door to the private dining room, the food was already served. Chloe was sitting right in the middle of the racers. Beside her were two empty seats. Jace naturally walked over and sat right next to her, casually draping his arm over the back of her chair. I had no choice but to take the remaining seat across the table. One of the racers across from me grinned cheekily. “Where did you run off to, Harper? Jace was looking everywhere for you. He was sweating bullets, thought something happened to you.” My expression was blank. “Nowhere. Just went for a walk.” Chloe’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. She choked out a sob. “Harper, are you mad at me? I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have accepted Jace’s invitation.” Jace. The way her first name rolled off her tongue so intimately. I glanced at him. He was clearly entirely accustomed to her calling him that. Before I could speak, Chloe cut me off and made a show of standing up. “It’s my fault for being an eyesore to you. I’ll leave right now. From now on, aside from races, I won’t go anywhere near Jace.” Several racers immediately started panicking and tried to coax her to stay. Jace pressed his hand firmly on her shoulder to keep her seated. He turned to me, his voice lacing with a heavy warning. “Harper, be reasonable. Stop clinging to such a trivial issue.” “Chloe is my navigator. We fight side-by-side in the trenches. It’s perfectly normal for me to invite her to my passenger seat. If you keep giving everyone attitude, you’re crossing the line.” I found it almost laughable. I hadn’t said a single word, yet in his eyes, I was already the unreasonable one. Sensing the tense atmosphere, one of the guys quickly changed the subject. “Alright, alright, let’s drop it. Let’s just eat.” Jace placed a large piece of lobster on Chloe’s plate and started cracking the shell for her. I watched quietly, not speaking up to stop him like I normally would have. Surprised by my calm reaction, Jace actually bothered to offer an explanation. “Chloe doesn’t know how to shell lobster.” “Okay,” I replied, my voice completely serene. For some reason, my mind flashed back to the first time Jace visited my parents’ house. He accidentally cut his finger on a sharp shell, but he insisted on shelling the shrimp for me so I wouldn’t have to dirty my hands. As he peeled the shrimp, he swore to my father that he would treat me like a queen for the rest of my life. Back then, he hated that he was just a rookie, promising that one day he would bring the championship trophy home just for me. Now, he was still shelling seafood. But the woman eating it was no longer me. I looked down and took a bite of the shrimp I had peeled myself, accidentally choking on a piece of spice. I coughed a few times. Jace frowned, patting my back while sliding a glass of lemonade toward me. “Always so clumsy. Eat slower, nobody is fighting you for it.” I stared at the juice. It was Chloe’s favorite drink. In five years of dating, he still didn’t know I was highly allergic to lemons. In the past, I would always comfort myself, making excuses that he was too focused on his racing to remember the little things. But he remembered that Chloe loved lobster, and he remembered she loved lemonade. He only forgot about my allergy. I opened my mouth and stated, “I’m allergic to lemons.” Jace’s hand froze in mid-air. His eyes darted away guiltily for a second before his tone shifted back to defensive entitlement. “I’ve been too busy lately. I forgot.” He didn’t forget. He simply never bothered to remember. I was too tired to correct him. I lowered my head and kept eating. After dinner, someone suggested moving to the lounge next door to play cards. Realizing I hadn’t found a proper moment to officially break up with him, I didn’t object. At the poker table, Jace sat to Chloe’s right, and I sat to his right. We were playing Rummy. Chloe pouted slightly, acting spoiled. “My hand is terrible. If only I had a Queen of Hearts!” I instinctively glanced at my own hand. I also needed a Queen of Hearts to complete my set. A second later, Jace discarded a Queen of Hearts. Chloe stuck her tongue out playfully. “I’ll take that! I knew Jace was the best.” A dull ache suddenly flared up in my stomach. I knew my chronic gastritis was acting up. Every time I ate a heavy meal, my stomach would hurt for a while. I pressed my hand against my abdomen. Seeing my movement, Jace reached over and began massaging my stomach. “Gastritis acting up again? You know your stomach is weak, yet you still ate so much.” I forced down the urge to shove his hand away and just gave a soft hum. I didn’t want to make an ugly scene in front of everyone. For the rest of the game, Jace practically spoon-fed Chloe winning cards. Everyone won multiple rounds, while he intentionally lost over and over. The other racers smirked. “Pay the piper, Jace. Draw a penalty card.” He casually pulled a card from the deck and handed it to the guy running the game. “Kiss the person on your right. If you refuse, the person on your right has to down a whole glass of whiskey.” The moment the words left his mouth, the room erupted in hoots and hollers. The person on Jace’s right was Chloe. Everyone’s eyes shot toward me. They all fully expected me to throw a massive, screaming fit like I used to. Instead, I just smiled indifferently and spoke in a calm voice. “It’s just a game. Kiss if you want to. Don’t worry about me.” Hearing this, Jace looked stunned. His chest heaved sharply. Chloe’s eyelashes fluttered, looking like she was struggling with a heavy decision. “Let’s skip it, Jace. You’ve been under so much pressure from the race. I don’t want Harper to throw a fit and stress you out when you get home.” “I don’t want to be a stumbling block in your relationship, and I don’t want to put you in a tough spot. I’ll just drink the whiskey. It’ll just give me a rash, it’s nothing compared to Harper’s feelings.” Chloe forced a tragically brave smile and reached for the shot glass. Without a second thought, Jace clamped his hand over hers. “No. You can’t handle alcohol. It’s just a penalty, I’ll take my punishment like a man.” Jace stood up, leaned down, tilted Chloe’s chin up, and kissed her forcefully. Chloe subtly shot me a glance, a triumphant smile lingering on her lips. Watching them lock lips so passionately, I thought I would feel devastated. But I felt absolutely nothing. Nothing except a violent wave of physical disgust churning in my stomach. “Jace, let’s break up.” The raucous cheering in the room completely drowned out my voice. When the kiss finally ended, Jace turned to look at me, still looking somewhat flushed. “What did you just say?” Looking at this scene, I suddenly felt that the entire charade was incredibly boring. “Nothing. I said I’m a bit tired. I’m going home.” Jace didn’t overthink it. He smiled understandingly. “I forgot you always sleep early. You head back first, we’re going to play a bit longer.” Without sparing him another glance, I turned and walked out. Behind me, Jace was gently wiping a smudge of lipstick from Chloe’s mouth. When I got home, I immediately started packing. Clothes, mugs, slippers, toothbrushes… All the matching couple items Jace had bought when we first moved in together. For the last few years, I was the only one using them. I left all of them exactly where they were. I only packed the things that solely belonged to me into my suitcase. It only took half an hour to finish packing. I unlocked my phone. Chloe had just updated her Instagram. One photo was of this year’s championship trophy. The second photo showed the three trophies from the previous years. Four trophies in total. Every single championship Jace had ever won. The caption read: What if I don’t know how to drive a race car? It doesn’t matter. He will always win the championship for me. The comment section was a wall of blessings, flooded with fans gushing about the “perfect couple.” I didn’t scroll any further. I swiped over to the wedding venue cancellation page. I was the one who picked the venue. But he was the one who had stayed up multiple nights to finalize every single detail. He used to say I was his princess, and a princess’s wedding could never be anything less than perfect. My queue number was up. Without hesitation, I tapped Confirm Cancellation. Just as I put my phone down, the front door slammed open with a deafening crash. Jace’s face was livid. He didn’t even notice the missing items in the apartment. Holding Chloe’s hand, he stormed toward me in a blind rage and, without a single word of warning, slapped me hard across the face. “Harper! What the hell did Chloe ever do to you?! You actually framed her for using performance-enhancing drugs before the race?!” “Do you have any idea that this could destroy a navigator’s entire career?!” My head snapped to the side from the force of the blow. My ears were ringing. Tears streamed down Chloe’s face as she choked out, “Jace, please don’t blame Harper. It’s all my fault. I overstepped my boundaries and made her angry.” Then, she fell to her knees with a loud thud and started desperately bowing to me. “Harper, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t be Jace’s navigator, I shouldn’t go on the track with him. I know I was wrong!” “Please, I’m begging you, stop falsely reporting me for doping! Being suspended or cursed at by fans is nothing, but if this drags Jace’s name through the mud, I’d rather die!” Chloe’s voice grew increasingly hysterical, and she knocked her head against the floorboards harder with every word. Before she could continue, Jace frantically pulled her up, his eyes full of heartbreak as he rubbed her forehead. The rapid-fire accusations hit me like a truck. My mind went entirely blank. I opened my mouth, instinctively denying it. “I didn’t…” “Shut up!” Jace cut me off coldly, looking at me with pure disgust. “Still lying? It’s already the number one trending topic online!” I opened my phone. The top headline was an official statement from the Racing Association: We will be conducting a secondary sample test on Co-driver Chloe. The comments underneath were incredibly toxic. “I heard a crazy bitch named Harper intentionally framed our Chloe!” “She’s the homewrecker trying to get between Jace and Chloe! Why doesn’t the mistress just go die!” My chest heaved with fury. I stepped forward, desperate to defend myself. “You are going to record a video right now,” Jace commanded. “You will tell the public that you had a moment of insanity and maliciously filed a false report.” My head snapped up. I stared at him in utter disbelief. “And you will issue a sincere, public apology to Chloe and the fans. Otherwise, don’t blame me for disregarding the years we’ve spent together!” Jace shoved me violently backward. His eyes were cold and threatening. I stumbled, lost my footing, and crashed heavily onto the floor, my elbow slamming into the sharp edge of the coffee table. Searing pain shot from my arm through my entire body. Feeling the agonizing throb, I let out a mocking, hollow laugh. Jace frowned at me. For a fleeting second, a flicker of inexplicable panic and unease flashed in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but Chloe’s phone suddenly rang. “Co-driver Chloe, regarding the doping allegations, we need you to come to the medical center immediately for a secondary sample test.” Chloe visibly trembled and shrank against Jace. He lowered his voice to comfort her, promising he would go with her. Jace’s phone vibrated. He glanced down at the screen. The next second, his fingers went rigid, and his pupils contracted violently.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574806”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Our department went on a hiking trip for our annual corporate retreat. When it came time to split into groups, I looked at Christian Sterling, my boss—and the man I’d been secretly dating for two years. I thought he would choose me. Instead, his eyes landed on Valerie Hayes, his childhood friend who had just returned from Europe. “You don’t have the stamina for this. Stick with me, I’ll pull you along,” he said. Valerie naturally looped her arm through his. Our coworkers immediately started teasing them. “Childhood sweethearts just hit different! Mr. Sterling, you’re still single, right? You two are a perfect match.” Christian didn’t push her away. He just replied flatly, “Yeah, I don’t have a girlfriend.” I froze in place. Just last night, he was holding me in his arms, promising that we would go public soon. But until the grouping was finalized, he didn’t glance in my direction even once. I was tossed into the “freelance” group. Halfway up the mountain, I badly sprained my ankle. I texted him: Christian, I can’t walk. Read. No reply. I sat on a rock for forty minutes, only to see a group photo posted in the company Slack channel from the summit. In the picture, he had his arm around Valerie, smiling brightly. The comments were flooded with people shipping them. Someone tagged me: @Maya, did you fall behind? Don’t drag the team down. Even Valerie made it, and you couldn’t? If you can’t handle the hike, you shouldn’t have come. I limped all the way down the mountain by myself that day. At the base, Christian was busy calling an Uber for Valerie. Seeing me hobbling toward them, he only furrowed his brows. “Didn’t I tell you not to text me privately? If coworkers see it, they might get the wrong idea.” I suddenly understood. The whole point of an “underground romance” was so he could deny my existence whenever it was convenient. Christian, I thought. As you wish. You don’t have a girlfriend. …… By the time I finished getting my ankle bandaged at the medical tent, Christian was already gone. The HR rep handed me a plastic bag of pain meds. “Mr. Sterling asked me to give this to you. He said once you’re patched up, you can catch a cab back to the office yourself.” “Where is he?” I asked quietly. “Director Hayes had a dizzy spell from low blood sugar. Mr. Sterling rushed her to the ER.” I looked down at my swollen, bruised ankle. The very last shred of hope in my heart evaporated. When I finally made it back to the office, leaning heavily against my desk just to sit down, Valerie dropped a message in the company Slack. Thanks to Christian for staying with me at the hospital! I’m all good now. Nobody skip the team dinner tonight! The coworkers instantly blew up the chat. Mr. Sterling personally accompanying you to the doctor? I’m so jealous. Meanwhile, some people drop out halfway up a mountain, but Director Hayes pushed through to the top even when she felt sick. The difference in work ethic is wild. I closed the chat. My assistant walked in, dropping a massive stack of files on my desk. “Maya, Mr. Sterling wants you to finish the revisions for the Stardust Project draft tonight.” “Isn’t the team dinner tonight?” “Mr. Sterling said you held up work this afternoon, so you have to make up for it.” Just as she finished speaking, the private executive elevator at the end of the hall dinged. Christian walked out, supporting Valerie. Valerie was wearing his suit jacket, and in her hands, she was holding a navy-blue ceramic mug. It was the mug we had made together at a pottery class on our very first real date. Carved into the bottom was a crooked letter ‘M’, etched by Christian’s own hands. Last night, when he drove me home, I had accidentally left it in the cup holder of his passenger seat. Valerie noticed my stare and smiled, raising the mug slightly. “Christian was worried my stomach would act up after the hospital, so he specifically poured me some hot water. This mug is actually super cute.” I grabbed the edge of my desk and stood up. “That’s mine.” The open office suddenly went dead silent. Christian looked at me, a flash of warning in his eyes. “It’s just a cheap freebie from a pottery shop. It’s not important.” Valerie played along, smiling sweetly. “Oh, it’s just a freebie? Well, since Maya likes it so much, you can have it back.” She reached out to place it on the edge of my desk. Her fingers slipped. The mug hit the desk corner and shattered on the floor, a massive crack splitting it from rim to base. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Valerie gasped, covering her mouth, her eyes turning red. “I didn’t mean to!” Christian immediately grabbed her fingers to inspect them. Only after making sure she hadn’t been scratched by the ceramic did he speak. “If it’s broken, just throw it away. It’s just a mug.” The janitor swept the pieces into the trash. I stared at the shard of ceramic bearing my initial, feeling sharp, agonizing throbs shooting up my ankle. A coworker chimed in impatiently, “Maya, when is the draft going to be ready? Don’t hold up the whole department just because you’re in a mood.” I sat back down. “Before midnight.” The crowd ushered Valerie toward the elevators, but Christian lingered behind. He glanced at my swollen ankle and slipped a sleek hotel key card into my stack of files. It was the hotel we always went to. “Come find me after you finish your edits,” he said in a low voice. “Stop throwing a tantrum.” I slid the key card right back to him. “Mr. Sterling, you don’t have a girlfriend. It’s inappropriate for us to meet privately at night.” He grabbed my wrist. “I can explain what happened on the mountain. Valerie’s health is fragile; I couldn’t just abandon her.” “I couldn’t walk either.” “But you made it down on your own, didn’t you?” He said it so casually, as if me enduring the agonizing pain to drag myself down a mountain meant I never needed him in the first place. Valerie’s voice called out from the hallway. “Christian! Everyone is waiting for you at the restaurant!” Christian let go of my wrist and flipped my file to the page that needed editing. “Just work for now. We’ll talk tonight.” He turned and walked toward Valerie, leaving with the rest of the team. At exactly midnight, I uploaded the revised draft into the work chat. Christian didn’t reply. But a second later, my phone buzzed with a photo sent privately from Valerie. In the picture, she was leaning against Christian’s shoulder, still draped in his jacket. Christian had his head turned slightly, listening to her speak, sporting a look of profound patience I hadn’t seen directed at me in months. A text followed: Maya, don’t wait up. Christian isn’t going to see you tonight. I stared at the text, suddenly feeling that the hotel key card he left on my desk was the biggest joke in the world. The next morning during the briefing, Christian cast my draft onto the projector screen. “Project Stardust will be spearheaded by Valerie. Maya will assist.” My head snapped up. “I built that proposal entirely on my own.” Valerie, sitting at his right hand, gave me an apologetic smile. “I just got back to the States and need a big project to re-familiarize myself with the market. Don’t worry, we’ll still prioritize your ideas during the execution phase.” I looked dead at Christian. “From the initial client outreach to the final draft, I did the work.” “Which is exactly why you’re assisting her,” Christian said, tapping his knuckles on the table. “She handles the overarching direction, you handle the boots-on-the-ground execution. Is there a problem?” “What about the credits?” A few soft scoffs echoed around the conference room. “It’s just one project. Do you really need to fight for credit right in front of the CEO?” Christian’s expression turned cold. “Maya, this company is not a playground for your ego.” Two years ago, when he gave me my first project, he told me that my ambition was what he admired most about me. Now, because Valerie needed a stepping stone, my ambition was suddenly “unprofessional.” I closed my laptop. “She can have the proposal, but my name stays on as lead.” Christian’s tone left no room for argument. “The roster has already been sent to the client. Stop being stubborn.” I picked up my laptop and walked toward the door. Christian reached out and clamped his hand around my wrist, pulling me back toward the table. My bruised ankle slammed into the heavy metal leg of a chair. The pain drained the color from my face instantly. He instinctively loosened his grip, but didn’t let go. “Slamming the door in a meeting? Do you want to be a laughingstock?” Valerie stood up, reaching out to pull me as well. “Maya, please don’t blame Christian. I can tell the client at the pitch meeting that you participated.” I dodged her hand. She stumbled backward with exaggerated clumsiness, bumping into the table and knocking her iced coffee over. Christian instantly stepped in front of her, shielding her. “Maya!” Every eye in the room judged me. Valerie quickly waved her hands. “It wasn’t her fault, I just lost my balance!” The more she defended me, the more disgusted everyone else looked. “Director Hayes is way too nice.” “Trying to steal the project and shoving people? Who does she think she is?” Christian took off his suit jacket and draped it over Valerie’s shoulders. His voice was freezing. “Apologize to her.” “I didn’t push her.” “It’s her first day back, and you purposely made things difficult over a coffee mug yesterday. Now you’re humiliating her in public. Maya, just because I indulge you doesn’t mean you can cross the line.” My nose stung. He said he indulged me. But in everyone else’s eyes, he had never shown me an ounce of favoritism. “How exactly do you indulge me, Mr. Sterling?” Christian fell silent. All those 2 AM drives home, the hugs in empty stairwells, the “I love you”s whispered only behind closed hotel or apartment doors—none of it could be brought to the light. Valerie tugged on his sleeve. “Christian, please don’t yell at her because of me.” Christian pulled her behind him protectively. “I’ll say it one last time. Apologize.” I stared at him for a long moment. “I’m sorry, Director Hayes.” The coworkers finally scattered, satisfied. But Christian’s expression remained tense. After the meeting, he cornered me in the archive room. “Why didn’t you come last night?” “Didn’t you say you didn’t have a girlfriend?” “There were too many people at the retreat. I had to say that.” His thumb rubbed circles over my wrist bone. “The company is in the middle of a Series B funding round. If the board finds out about an office romance, it’ll ruin both of us.” I had been listening to that exact script for two years. “Will you go public when the funding closes?” “Yes.” “When will it close?” He paused. “Don’t pressure me for a deadline.” I let out a hollow laugh. Whenever I asked for a timeline, I was “pressuring” him. He pressed a velvet box into my palm. “Last night was my fault. Here. Stop being mad at me.” It was a necklace I had casually mentioned liking six months ago. My stupid, pathetic heart softened for a fraction of a second. Then, the door opened. Valerie walked in. She saw the necklace and gasped, covering her mouth in delight. “Christian, you actually found it?! This is the exact design I lost while I was in Europe!” Christian immediately snatched the necklace out of my palm. “I sourced it specifically to replace yours.” He personally clasped it around Valerie’s neck, then turned to me. “I was just having Maya inspect the clasp for me. Don’t misunderstand.” I let my hand drop to my side. The metal clasp had dug a red indentation into my palm. That afternoon, the Stardust client explicitly requested that I attend the pitch meeting. The smile on Valerie’s face stiffened. “The client wants to see the lead creative. Naturally, I should be the one presenting.” The account manager looked awkward. “They specifically reviewed Maya’s past portfolios. They explicitly asked for her to lead the presentation.” Christian looked at me. “Then we’ll all go together.” Valerie flipped through the file and asked softly, “I’ll do the main presentation, and Maya can handle the Q&A segment. Is that okay?” Before I could even speak, Christian agreed. “That works.” During the pitch, Valerie read my script word-for-word, but less than ten minutes in, she completely reversed the core data metrics. The client cut her off. “Director Hayes, who built this user demographic model?” Her face drained of color. I took the clicker, stepped up, and explained the model flawlessly. The client’s furrowed brow relaxed. “Now that makes sense. Let’s have Ms. Brooks liaise with me directly moving forward.” The car ride back was dead silent. Christian was the first to speak. “Maya, you didn’t have to steal the mic from her like that.” “She flipped the core data.” “You could have gently corrected her. You didn’t have to humiliate her in front of the client.” I looked in the rearview mirror. Valerie was sitting in the passenger seat, her eyes perfectly rimmed with unshed tears. “So I should have just sat there and watched us lose a multi-million dollar account?” “We wouldn’t have lost it,” Christian said, his tone darkening. “You just wanted to prove you were better than her.” Valerie turned around. “Please don’t fight. It’s my fault. Maya, I know you don’t like me, but work is work. You shouldn’t bring your personal grudges into the boardroom.” I suddenly found it all highly amusing. “And why exactly wouldn’t I like you?” “Because of Christian, obviously.” She said it so casually. Christian immediately snapped, “Valerie.” “Am I wrong?” She smiled thinly. “She’s been glaring at you since the hiking trip. People in the office are even saying she stalks you home.” My spine went rigid. It was true that some coworkers had spotted me entering Christian’s luxury apartment building. Because over the last two years, I practically lived there half the week. Gripping the steering wheel, Christian said coldly, “She occasionally drops off physical documents for me. Don’t spread rumors.” Valerie let out a long, meaningful “Ohhhh.” The car went silent. I didn’t bother defending myself. Back at the office, I realized the raw data files for the Stardust Project were still on my backup drive at Christian’s apartment. That night, I went over to grab the files. Verification Failed. My fingerprint had been wiped from the smart lock. Christian didn’t arrive for another half an hour. He opened the door but didn’t invite me inside. A moment later, he walked out holding a cardboard box, setting it at my feet. “All your stuff is in here.” “Why did you delete my fingerprint?” “Valerie doesn’t like hotels. She’s crashing in the guest room for a bit,” he explained in a hushed tone. “If she knows you have the passcode, she’ll overthink it.” Right on cue, Valerie walked out of the master bedroom. She was wearing one of Christian’s oversized button-down shirts. She feigned surprise. “Maya? What are you doing here this late?” I stared intensely at Christian. “Why is she coming out of the master bedroom?” Christian stepped into my line of sight, blocking my view of her. “The AC in the guest room is broken. Don’t start a fight over this.” Valerie leaned against the doorframe. “Christian, is she really just here to drop off documents?” I waited for Christian’s answer. He stayed silent for five long seconds before pushing the cardboard box further out into the hallway. “Yes.” The door closed in my face. From the other side, I heard Valerie’s muffled voice: “Does she have a crush on you or something?” Christian’s reply was faint. “Just ignore her.” Click. The deadbolt engaged, locking me out of his life completely. The next day, Valerie published the finalized Stardust Project proposal on the company intranet. My name was entirely scrubbed from the credits. In the employee locker room, she blocked my path. “Did it hurt? Seeing me wearing Christian’s shirt last night?” I tried to step around her. “Move.” She grabbed my arm. “Christian already told you, you’re just a delivery girl for his files. Don’t you feel pathetic, desperately clinging to a man who feels absolutely nothing for you?” I violently yanked my arm free. Valerie stumbled back, quickly recovered, and slapped me hard across the cheek. My ear rang sharply. She lowered her voice to a venomous whisper. “That slap is to remind you to stop coveting things that will never belong to you.” I swung back, backhanding her across the face. Christian pushed the locker room door open at the exact moment Valerie dramatically threw herself against the metal lockers, sliding to the floor. He rushed forward, violently grabbing my wrist. “Maya! What the hell are you doing?!” Valerie covered her cheek and sobbed. “It’s not her fault! I just told her that you don’t like her back, and she just snapped.” Christian’s grip tightened painfully on my bones. “Apologize to her right now.” “She hit me first.” “Enough!” He shoved me backward. The small of my back slammed into the sharp corner of a locker. The blinding pain made me double over instantly. Christian reached out a hand to catch me, but the moment a crowd of coworkers flooded through the door, he immediately yanked his hand back. Someone saw the red handprint on Valerie’s face and immediately called HR. “Maya is completely out of control! Stealing credit, shoving people, and now she’s physically assaulting coworkers!” “Is she actually unhinged over Mr. Sterling?” “She’s been to his house before. I always knew she was a psycho stalker.” Valerie shook her head, tears streaming down. “Please, everyone, stop. Maya just misunderstood my relationship with Christian.” The HR Director looked at Christian. “Mr. Sterling, do you want us to involve the police?” “Internal discipline,” he said coldly. “Suspend Maya from all duties pending a full investigation.” I forced myself to stand up straight. “And what about the fact that she struck me first?” Christian’s eyes flickered for a fraction of a second when he saw the red welts forming on my cheek. But Valerie was faster. “I never touched you! Do you have any proof?” The security camera in the locker room had been broken since last week. Christian knew that, because I had personally handed him the maintenance request form to sign. I looked him dead in the eye. “Who do you believe?” “Valerie wouldn’t throw the first punch.” Those seven words stripped away any point in defending myself. That afternoon, an anonymous post blew up on the company forum. It accused me of chronically sexually harassing senior management to sleep my way into leading major projects. It included high-res photos of me swiping into Christian’s luxury apartment building late at night. The post was quickly forwarded to the Stardust client group chat. The client demanded Sterling Corp swap their point of contact immediately. Christian called me into the executive boardroom. A printed statement sat on the mahogany table. “Sign this. Admit that you harassed me due to a one-sided delusion, and the company will let you keep your job.” I read it line by line. In the statement, I was painted as a deranged stalker who harassed her boss, bullied her colleagues, and stole other people’s intellectual property. “And if I refuse?” “You’ll be terminated with cause.” “Those photos are real,” I said, staring at him. “And you know exactly why I was at your apartment.” Christian lowered his voice to a hushed, urgent whisper. “Because I know the truth, I’m trying to control the narrative for you! If this blows up, the entire industry will say you slept your way to the top.” “Then tell them the truth. Tell them we were dating.” “If I announce that now, it only validates the rumors that I showed you favoritism.” “Christian, you promised me we’d go public soon.” “Maya, stop being so damn stubborn right now.” A massive crowd of gossiping coworkers had gathered outside the glass walls of the boardroom. Valerie walked in, placing a printed email on the table. “The Stardust client received a whistleblower email claiming Maya stole my proposal. Christian, we have to give the client an explanation.” Attached to the email were several screenshots of document creation logs. The timestamps had been conveniently cropped out. Only Valerie’s name remained as the author. Christian glanced at it. “Maya. Just sign the statement.” “You literally watched me build that model from scratch.” For the past three months, I had stayed up until 3 AM in his apartment tweaking that presentation. He had microwaved milk for me. He had sat on the couch and listened to me practice the entire pitch. He knew the truth better than anyone alive. “The company’s survival is more important than your personal pride.” He pushed a silver Montblanc pen toward me. “Take the fall for now. Once this blows over, I swear I’ll make it up to you.” I didn’t take the pen. HR, Legal, and the Stardust project team members filed into the boardroom one by one. Someone demanded loudly, “Maya, what exactly is your relationship with Mr. Sterling? Have you been blackmailing him with fake photos?” I looked at Christian. “Mr. Sterling, have we ever been in a relationship?” Christian’s fingers stiffened. Valerie stood right beside him, whispering softly, “Everyone is waiting for your answer.” Christian avoided my eyes. “No.” Two years of holding each other, late-night whispers, birthdays, and anniversaries—all permanently erased by a single syllable from his own mouth. Mocking laughter echoed through the boardroom. I picked up the printed statement. Christian’s posture visibly relaxed. “Sign it, go home and rest. I’ll handle the PR fallout.” I ripped the paper in half. Then in half again. And again. Shredded confetti rained down on the polished mahogany table. “Since we have never been in a relationship, let’s keep this strictly professional.” I slapped a white envelope onto the desk. My resignation letter. Right next to it, I dropped an official Intellectual Property Registration Certificate. “The initial copyright for the Stardust algorithmic model belongs entirely to me. It was legally registered with the IP office three months before this company even pitched the project.” Christian’s face plummeted. Outside the boardroom, the Head of Legal’s cell phone rang aggressively. He answered it, listened for five seconds, and looked at me in absolute horror. “Mr. Sterling… The Stardust client just terminated our contract.” Before the words even settled, two men in crisp suits pushed through the boardroom doors. “We are investigators from the Corporate Ethics and IP Bureau. We have received a sworn complaint from Ms. Maya Brooks. Sterling Enterprises is now under active investigation for corporate IP theft and workplace defamation. Please step away from your computers.”

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