I had been a TSA officer for four years before a group of high school seniors pulled a flour-bag prank that ended my life. Every single one of them had a small, transparent baggie of white powder stashed in their carry-on luggage. One kid held up his phone, laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. “When TSA finds this, they’re going to lose their minds!” “This is exactly what we need. Regular graduation trips are boring.” According to protocol, I was supposed to hit the emergency stop immediately, lock down the checkpoint, and notify airport police. But in my last life, their chaperone—a high school teacher—brought the kids over, crying and begging me for mercy. He said they had just finished their final exams. Their brains were fried. They were just excited and lacked boundaries. He said they had studied for over a decade. They shouldn’t have the rest of their lives ruined over one stupid joke. I went soft. Thirty minutes later, several baggies of actual illegal narcotics were found during the secondary screening. The group of students instantly turned on me. “That TSA agent is the one who let us through!” “She saw the powder and still gave us the green light! She’s the suspicious one!” “We’re just students! How could we possibly know?” I was suspended, investigated, and fired. My picture was plastered all over the internet. In the end, I died alone in a freezing, rundown apartment. When I opened my eyes again, that familiar suitcase appeared on my X-ray monitor. I reached out and hit the alarm. “Initiate Code Red protocol immediately.” “Lock down the checkpoint. Notify Customs and Border Protection and the DEA.” 1. The officer working the lane next to me froze for a second, but his training kicked in, and he immediately followed protocol. The red emergency lights flared. The stanchions were pulled closed. The passengers behind them in line were quickly ushered to other lanes. Some looked back, craning their necks, while others frowned and complained. The automated PA announcements continued evenly, reminding passengers to have their IDs and boarding passes ready. The students’ laughter slowly died down. Chloe wiped the smile off her face, gripping her phone tightly. “Seriously? We’re just filming a TikTok. Why are you being so dramatic?” I turned and looked at her. “The federal security checkpoint is not a playground for your pranks.” Jackson scoffed. “It’s just flour inside. Is flour illegal now?” “Whether it’s flour or not is for the lab to decide.” “So you’re just going to detain us for no reason? Our flight is about to board.” I didn’t answer him. Because I knew that if I tried to explain, they would grab onto every single word and try to negotiate federal regulations. Behind Chloe, a girl with short hair whispered, “Chloe, maybe you should stop the livestream.” Before Chloe could speak, Jackson glared at her. “Turn it off for what? We didn’t break any laws.” He looked back at me, raising his voice. “Everyone, look closely! This TSA agent is detaining all of us over a bag of baking flour!” I signaled to the officer next to me. “Tell them to stop recording.” The officer stepped forward, demanding they put their phones away. Chloe took a half-step back, a flicker of genuine panic finally crossing her face. “You can’t just steal our phones!” “We’re not stealing them,” I said. “We are securing evidence. You were livestreaming inside a restricted federal screening area, and the content involves suspected illegal substances. Your devices will be temporarily confiscated.” All the color drained from her face. My supervisor, David, arrived quickly. He looked at the X-ray screen, then at the unopened luggage still sitting on the belt, and his expression darkened. “How many people?” “Twenty-nine students confirmed traveling together,” I replied. “Plus one chaperone. The rest of their luggage hasn’t gone through the scanner yet.” “Livestreaming?” “Ordered to stop. We’re securing their devices now.” David nodded and turned to the inspection team. “Tag everything. Seal the bags. Full secondary search, piece by piece. Keep all individuals in the holding area. Absolutely no one is allowed to touch their luggage.” As soon as he finished speaking, one of the students finally started to cry. It was quiet, like a terrified gasp for air. Chloe bit her lip, her eyes red. “Ma’am, we really just wanted to make a graduation video.” She tried using that soft, pleading tone again. She said she had worked so hard for three years to get accepted into her dream college. She said this was their final trip together before they all went their separate ways. She said if this went on her permanent record, her parents would kill her. I just looked at her. “You are inside a restricted federal security area.” “Telling us it was just a video now is too little, too late.” 2. The chaperone arrived fast. Mr. Anderson jogged over, sweat beading on his forehead. He was clutching a handful of passports, the strap of his bag sliding off his shoulder. He looked genuinely terrified. Before he could rush into the secured area, an officer blocked his path. “I’m their teacher!” he pleaded, his voice trembling. “I’m the one who brought these kids here. Whatever the issue is, talk to me.” David instructed him to remain behind the tape and explain the situation. Mr. Anderson saw the numbered luggage sitting on the floor and the officers logging the confiscated phones. His face went pale. “Isn’t this an overreaction?” He lowered his voice, trying to downplay the situation to keep it contained. “They just graduated high school. They’re excited. The luggage just has flour in it. We’re staying at an Airbnb abroad and planned to cook. Kids exaggerate things; they were just filming a joke. A stern warning should be enough.” In my last life, he said the exact same thing. Back then, his tone was even more sincere. He pulled me aside, repeatedly promising he would take full responsibility, write a formal apology, and throw all the baggies away. But after everything blew up, he told the media that the TSA agent was entirely in charge of the situation and he was merely complying with orders. I looked at Mr. Anderson. “Mr. Anderson, were you aware they planned to livestream themselves carrying small, transparent baggies of white powder through a federal checkpoint?” He avoided my eyes. “I knew they wanted to film a graduation vlog. I didn’t know it would turn into this.” Jackson immediately jumped in. “Mr. Anderson, she’s trying to scare us! We told them it’s just regular flour!” Chloe’s tears finally spilled over. She cried perfectly—not too loud, not throwing a tantrum, just staring with big, red, watery eyes. “Mr. Anderson, I didn’t think it would be this serious. I just wanted everyone to have a memory to look back on after graduation.” Seeing her cry made Mr. Anderson’s expression darken further. He turned to me, his tone laced with blame. “Officer, look how terrified these kids are. Can you at least let them sit down? This is their first time leaving the country. They can’t handle this kind of stress.” I replied, “There are chairs in the holding area; they have already been instructed to sit. But they cannot be separated from their luggage, and they remain under federal jurisdiction.” “What about our flight?” “We are not considering clearing you for departure at this time.” Mr. Anderson’s voice spiked. “Do you have any idea how massive the fallout from this will be? Twenty-nine students! Their parents are waiting for updates. The flights, the hotels, the itinerary—who is going to pay for this?” I looked at him and almost laughed. Before the drugs were found, he asked who would pay for the trip. After the drugs were found, he asked who would pay for their ruined futures. Yet not a single person ever asked who was responsible for maintaining the integrity of national security. The airport complaints desk quickly received calls from panicked parents. The dispatch officer relayed the situation to our checkpoint. David listened through his earpiece, his frown deepening. The angry voices of parents crackled through the speaker. “It was just a prank! You can’t treat my child like a terrorist!” “If it turns out to be flour, I swear we are going to sue you for everything you have!” “My daughter just got her acceptance letter! If she ends up traumatized by this, I am coming after your jobs!” Hearing her mother’s voice, Chloe cried even harder. Jackson sat in a chair, his leg bouncing aggressively. He finally got fed up and stood up. “I need to use the bathroom.” An officer blocked him. “We will log your request, and an officer will escort you.” “I can’t even take a piss by myself?!” “You may use the restroom, but you cannot move unescorted.” Jackson’s face flushed bright red. He spun around and yelled to the others, “See this?! They’re treating us like criminals over some damn flour!” I walked over and stood right outside the stanchions. “Jackson, during your livestream earlier, you specifically said you hoped the DEA showed up. Well, they’re here now. Why aren’t you happy?” He froze. The students around him lowered their heads. Chloe suddenly looked up at me, pure resentment burning in her eyes. “How can you say something like that? We just didn’t realize the consequences.” I nodded. “Exactly. So now you’re going to learn what consequences look like.” Her lips trembled, and the tears stopped. That specific brand of resentment… I knew it all too well. In my last life, they hated me just like this. Not because I did anything wrong. But because I refused to bear the consequences of their actions. 3. As we waited for the initial field tests, the checkpoint was dead silent, save for the hum of the X-ray machines. The small, transparent baggies were pulled out one by one and placed on white inspection trays. Every bag was numbered. Every suitcase was sealed. Swabbing, photographing, logging—the officers worked with methodical precision. I stood off to the side, my gloves slick with sweat. My reborn body still remembered the feeling of dying. The damp, musty smell of that cheap apartment. The streaks of red paint seeping under the door. The sound of someone pounding on the wood in the dead of night. The endless, suffocating waves of death threats flooding my phone. Those things didn’t magically vanish just because I opened my eyes again. They were buried just under my skin. Whenever Chloe cried, whenever Jackson yelled, whenever Mr. Anderson frowned—they clawed their way out from my bones. I looked past the stanchions. Even though the main line had been diverted, plenty of people were still lingering. Some were snapping photos, others craning their necks to watch the drama. Uniformed officers were working to keep the crowd moving. On the edge of the crowd, a man in a gray jacket stood perfectly still. He wasn’t in line. He wasn’t checking the departure screens. His eyes were locked onto the students’ luggage. It wasn’t the curious gaze of an onlooker. He was calculating. I stared at him for a few seconds. Sensing something, he pulled his black face mask higher up his nose and turned to leave. I immediately pressed my earpiece. “CBP liaison, be advised. Outside the perimeter, east pillar. Male, gray jacket, black mask. No carry-on luggage. Repeatedly observing the detained bags. Intercept and verify identity.” The plainclothes officers immediately turned their attention to him. The man in the gray jacket wasn’t walking fast, but his path was deliberate—straight toward the exit doors. Two plainclothes officers converged on him from different angles. Jackson had noticed my movement. His face changed, and he suddenly yelled, “What are you trying to pull now?!” His shout made Chloe look up too. Following my gaze, she spotted the man in the gray jacket, but she clearly didn’t recognize him. “Who is that?” No one answered her. When the plainclothes officers stepped in front of the man, his first reaction wasn’t to explain himself—it was to dodge. But he only made it one step before they grabbed his arms and pinned him. Low gasps rippled through the crowd. Mr. Anderson panicked. “What’s going on now?!” David ignored him and ordered the control room to pull the security footage from thirty minutes ago. The screen quickly switched to the public seating area in the terminal. Before the students had even approached the security checkpoint, they had opened their suitcases near a cluster of chairs. They were pulling out the transparent baggies to take photos. Chloe was standing in the middle, holding up a label for the camera. Jackson was holding a bag of powder, making an exaggerated, terrified face. Several students were doubled over laughing. Their suitcases were wide open, passports, clothes, and electronics scattered everywhere in the chaos. And right in that exact moment, the man in the gray jacket walked past them. Once. Twice. The third time, he bent down to pretend to tie his shoe, getting extremely close to a blue suitcase. It felt like someone was choking me. The news broadcasts from my past life flashed in my mind. The same terminal. The same chaos. The same wide-open suitcases. David watched the footage, his face turning completely stone-cold. “Run the field tests again. Expand the sampling pool. Any baggie without a name label or with an irregular seal goes straight to the spectrometer.” Chloe stopped crying. She sat in her chair, her fingers twisting the fabric of her senior class t-shirt so hard her knuckles were white. Jackson finally stopped yelling. He watched the man in the gray jacket being dragged away. His lips moved, but no sound came out. I knew they were finally starting to get scared. But fear isn’t the same thing as realization. True realization is knowing you don’t play games with federal law before you even step into the security checkpoint. 4. The first batch of rapid test results came back quickly. Flour. The second batch—still flour. The officer logging the results read them off one by one, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “Item One: Starch reaction.” “Item Two: Starch reaction.” “Item Three: Negative for anomalies.” The students in the holding area looked like they had been brought back to life. The kids who had been staring at the floor slowly raised their heads. Someone wiped away their tears and whispered, “I told you we were fine.” Some looked at me, a newfound arrogance burning in their eyes. Jackson was the first to jump up. “Did you hear that?! Flour! We told you from the very beginning it was flour!” An officer ordered him to sit back down. He refused. Instead, he shouted directly at David, “You delayed our flight, confiscated our phones, and treated us like literal terrorists! Aren’t you going to apologize?!” Mr. Anderson finally regained his composure as well. He straightened his collar, reclaiming his authority as the adult in the room. “Supervisor, I understand you’re just doing your jobs. But the test results speak for themselves. The kids acted inappropriately, we admit that. But if you keep escalating this, isn’t it a bit excessive?” Chloe stood up, her eyes red, her voice soft and trembling. “Ma’am, I know you hate that we filmed a video, but we really didn’t mean any harm.” She paused, letting the tears fall right on cue. “If my college acceptance gets revoked over this, I don’t know what I’ll do.” As she finished, several other girls around her started crying too. The scene was entirely too familiar. The sound of their unified sobbing was like a soft blade. In my last life, it was this exact sound that slowly chipped away at protocol. I looked at Chloe. She was wearing a brand-new travel bracelet on her wrist. Her passport holder was baby pink, custom-stamped with her name. She was young—so young that she could afford to believe the world would simply step aside for her mistakes. When I spoke, my voice wasn’t loud. “Chloe, you posted on a public platform that you planned to bring small, transparent baggies of white powder into a federal security checkpoint.” Her face stiffened. I continued, “After entering the restricted area, you intentionally livestreamed, intentionally shoved cameras in the faces of federal officers, and intentionally manufactured a security threat. Even if some of these samples are flour, that does not mean the threat is neutralized.” Jackson sneered. “Let’s be real. You just refuse to admit you were wrong.” “I have nothing to apologize for. I followed protocol.” “Protocol, protocol! That’s all you people do—hide behind your ‘protocol’ to bully people!” I looked at him. “Protocol isn’t here to bully people. Protocol is here to prove who’s lying when things go wrong.” Jackson’s face twitched. That hit too close to home. He understood exactly what I meant. Mr. Anderson frowned. “Officer, there’s no need to be so harsh. They’re just kids.” David suddenly spoke up. “Mr. Anderson. Are they all eighteen?” Mr. Anderson hesitated. Chloe whispered, “Yes.” David nodded. “Then we will process them as adults.” The holding area went dead silent. I saw Jackson’s hand tremble. Right at that moment, someone from the spectrometer team raised their hand. A transparent baggie without a name label was placed into the machine. It looked almost identical to the flour baggies. But the heat-seal was narrower, the plastic was flattened differently, and the powder inside was finer. It was an unnatural, blinding white. I stared at that bag, my palms tingling with phantom pain. The few seconds the machine took to analyze it felt like an eternity. Chloe held her breath. Jackson pressed his lips into a tight line. Mr. Anderson’s face was completely frozen. The machine emitted a short, sharp beep. The indicator light on the screen flipped from green to solid red. The technician’s face instantly dropped. He immediately raised his hand, signaling the personnel around him to step back. A hushed, tense voice crackled over the radio. “Secondary test positive.” “Suspected Schedule I narcotic.” The tissue in Chloe’s hand dropped to the floor. The arrogant sneer Jackson had just managed to plaster back onto his face shattered into pieces. I stared at that transparent bag, a bone-deep cold aching through my body. The very thing that killed me in my past life had finally appeared again.

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We were playing “Never Have I Ever” at a friend’s bachelor party. When it was my boyfriend’s turn, he drew a card that read: “Never have I ever betrayed my best friend.” The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere in the room hit pause. Every single person at the table simultaneously turned to look at me. Three seconds later, in complete unspoken unison, they all picked up their shot glasses and downed their drinks. In that round, I was the only winner. And the winner got to ask the losers a truth or a dare. Without a second thought, I asked, “How did you betray your friend?” To my surprise, everyone went dead silent. Just as my best friend, Chloe, was about to nervously take her penalty shot… My boyfriend, who had been silent the whole time, placed his hand over hers and looked at me. “Don’t make this hard on them. I’ll tell you.” “Chloe and I have been together for five years.” “She’s pregnant. I can’t let her child grow up without a father.” Chloe’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. She couldn’t look at me. My childhood friend, Liam, also confessed. “Actually… we all know. They had a wedding in their hometown last year, and we all went.” “Even your adopted parents accepted it. They just begged us not to tell you for now.” In that instant, the neon lights of the bar blinded me, blurring every face in the room. Their confessions echoed in my ears, one after the other. So… For seven years of our relationship, I had been the one betrayed. …… I opened my mouth, but my throat felt completely blocked. It took me a long time to finally force the words out. “A wedding last year?” No one answered. I recognized every single face in this VIP booth. We had dinners together, took trips together, and exchanged gifts during the holidays. But right now, their heads were bowed. Not a single one dared to meet my eyes. Finally, Liam broke the silence. “Yes.” I stared at him, entirely numb, my brain failing to process the reality. Liam was practically my cousin. We grew up together. When kids bullied me on the playground, he stood in front of me. When a teacher yelled at me, he bought me candy on the walk home. I always believed that even if the whole world lied to me, Liam wouldn’t. But he had taken their side. So, last year, when Julian said he had to go on a “business trip” for a few days, he was actually going back home to marry Chloe. I felt so incredibly stupid. I had worried he was working too hard, so I ordered late-night takeout to his office. I even rubbed his shoulders and told him not to push himself so hard. Thinking about it now felt like someone was physically carving out my heart. I looked at Liam. “What do you mean my parents knew?” He avoided my gaze, giving a low “Mhm.” “They were worried you wouldn’t be able to handle the mental breakdown, so they didn’t tell you.” My fingertips went completely numb. I could barely stay upright in my chair. My parents knew too. It wasn’t just Julian lying to me. Even the people closest to me helped them keep me in the dark. I finally understood why everyone in the room was so calm today. Because they all knew this day was coming. Julian looked at me, his tone so flat it was almost cold. “Maya, I know this isn’t fair to you.” I stared at him, my eyes burning. “You knew it wasn’t fair, and you did it anyway?” He frowned, as if he disliked the tone I was using. “It is what it is. Throwing a tantrum isn’t going to change anything.” Chloe sighed softly. “Maya, Julian has compensated you a lot over the years.” “Your sister’s medical bills, your job transfer, the condo you live in… he gave you all of that. We’ve all been trying so hard to protect your feelings. Just think about it reasonably.” Someone else chimed in from the side. “Yeah, honestly, you’re the one who got the best deal out of this.” Listening to them, a bone-deep chill washed over me. So, in their eyes, I was the burden. I was the one who had taken advantage of them. So they lied to me, and it was a “white lie.” And I was supposed to fall to my knees in gratitude. Julian leaned back in his chair, looking like a man who had finally put down a heavy load. He stated casually, “Chloe and I had our wedding.” “We’ll throw a wedding for you too. That makes it fair, right?” In that split second, I almost laughed out loud. Fair? I spat the words out like venom. “You really want to have your cake and eat it too, don’t you?!” Julian’s face darkened. “Maya, I’m trying to let you save face.” I sneered. Everyone in this room knew about him and Chloe. And they were all going to come and attend our wedding. He called that saving face? Wasn’t I already enough of a joke to them? Tears spilled from Chloe’s eyes. Her voice was weak and raspy. “Maya, I know you hate me.” “But the baby is innocent.” I looked at her, my chest tightening with a suffocating pain. “What about me?” “Are my seven years not innocent?” She went pale. Her lips parted, but no words came out. I picked up the glass of whiskey next to me and threw it directly into Julian’s face. The amber liquid dripped down his jawline, soaking his collar. Chloe shrieked in terror and jumped up, calling my name. But I kept my eyes locked on Julian. “I don’t want your ‘saving face’.” “And I won’t step aside to give you your happy ending.” “I hope you two miserable pieces of trash rot together.” With that, I grabbed my purse and walked out. Chaos erupted behind me. I heard Liam calling my name, someone trying to grab my arm, and someone else muttering that I was “too extreme.” I didn’t look back. Not even once. The next morning, I was jolted awake by my phone vibrating relentlessly. Notifications were flooding the screen, one after another. Screenshots of Instagram stories, forwarded group chats—as if they were terrified I might miss it. When I clicked on the first image, my breath caught in my throat. Julian and Chloe were standing outside the courthouse, holding their marriage certificate, smiling radiantly. The comments were filled with blessings and congratulations. I kept scrolling and saw an Instagram post from Liam. It read: “It hasn’t been easy watching my brother get to this point. Congratulations on finally getting everything you wanted.” The attached photos included Julian and Chloe today, and pictures from their secret hometown wedding last year. I clicked on the group photo from the wedding, and my hand immediately started shaking. There were so many familiar faces. Liam was there. Noah was there. Even my parents were there. My mother was smiling warmly. My father was standing next to the groom, handing him a glass of champagne. Everyone looked so happy and natural. I was the only one who was nothing but a punchline, excluded from my own life from start to finish. I dropped the phone face down on the mattress, a suffocating ache radiating through my chest. But the phone kept buzzing. In the company Slack channel, someone posted a video from the VIP booth last night. They only clipped the most chaotic part. I was standing there, looking furious and unhinged. Chloe was crying pitifully. Julian stood protectively in front of her, like a devoted husband shielding his abused wife. The caption was even more sickening. “Homewrecker gets exposed for trying to steal someone’s man, throws a drink and goes psycho.” People in the replies quickly identified me. “Is that Maya?” “Wow, you’d never guess she was like that.” “No wonder her boyfriend never posted her. She was the side piece all along! Someone tag the real wife!” I sat on my bed, my fingertips growing colder by the second. Julian knew perfectly well that I wasn’t the other woman. But he didn’t offer a single word of explanation. His silence was an endorsement. It took me a long time to gather the strength to get up and wash my face. I had to go to the hospital today to visit my younger sister, Lily. Her condition had been incredibly unstable lately, and my biggest fear was her seeing any of this online. But before I even made it out the door, a notification from the hospital billing department popped up. I was short on the next phase of her treatment fees. I stared at the negative balance for a long time before finally turning back inside. This was the apartment Julian and I had shared for four years. I had meticulously decorated every inch of this place, even dreaming of the day we made enough money to buy it together. I had genuinely, wholeheartedly planned a future here. But there was no future anymore. As soon as I walked into the living room, I heard the lock click. Julian and Chloe walked in together. They were still wearing the formal clothes from their courthouse photos. I stared at him, my heart turning to ice. I laughed. “Do you realize that because of your little photo op, everyone is calling me a homewrecker?” Julian frowned. “People found out we got legally married, so we posted it. It’s just Instagram.” Chloe chimed in, a trace of impatience in her voice. “Maya, can you stop blaming us for every little thing?” “People are happy for us. What’s the problem?” Hearing her say that made me feel completely absurd. I took a deep breath. I had nothing left to say to them. “Get out.” Julian looked at me like I had just told a hilarious joke. “You’re telling me to get out? The renovations, the HOA fees, the parking space—I paid for all of that.” “Did you really think you could afford to live here on your own?” “Chloe and I are moving in here from now on.” “If you don’t like it, you get out.” I stood frozen, rooted to the spot for a long time. The down payment for this apartment… I had saved up every single penny for it after I started working. The day I signed the lease, my hands were shaking with pure joy. Julian had hugged me, telling me this was going to be our home. I had sent a picture of the keys to Chloe, and she replied, That’s so wonderful! So she was just waiting for her turn all along. I didn’t argue with them anymore. I efficiently packed all my belongings into a suitcase. As I walked toward the front door, I heard Julian’s voice behind me. “If you take one step out that door, I will never give you another cent.” I stood in the elevator, my fingers gripping the handle of my suitcase so hard my knuckles were white. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper. But I didn’t feel the pain. All I felt was a crushing, suffocating sense of humiliation. In the end, I left without looking back. I had to get as far away from their world as possible. I had nowhere to go. I ended up booking a room in a cheap, rundown motel. The room was pitifully small, and even the curtains were stained and frayed. I sat on the edge of the stiff mattress and called Lily. The moment she picked up, the first thing she asked was: “Maya, have you been crying?” My nose stung, but I forced out a “No.” She went quiet for a moment before asking softly: “Did you and Julian have a fight?” “People are saying things about you online.” My heart dropped like a stone. My worst nightmare had come true. The moment I hung up, I immediately opened Twitter. The hashtag wasn’t the number one trending topic, but it was high enough that anyone who needed to see it would see it. The headline was blindingly cruel: “Pregnant Best Friend Gets Married, Homewrecker Crashes the Party.” Below it was a collage of photos and videos. The VIP booth video, the courthouse picture, and old photos of Julian and me. The most disgusting part was that they completely flipped the timeline. They claimed Julian and Chloe were always a couple. They claimed I was the one who forced my way in. They even claimed that because my sister’s medical bills were so high, I was desperately clinging to Julian just to use him as an ATM. The comments were a cesspool of absolute vitriol. I read through them, one by one. My eyes burned, but I couldn’t shed a single tear. Shortly after, I received an email from HR. Due to the negative public relations impact on the corporate image, the company was officially terminating my employment. I stared at the words, completely numb. I had bled for that job. When I was just an intern, I pulled all-nighters modifying proposals for clients, so exhausted I secretly cried in the bathroom stalls. Later, when I was managing multiple accounts, I regularly went days on three hours of sleep. I thought that, at the very least, my career was something I had built with my own two hands. I was wrong. That evening, I still went to the Vance family estate. Not because I held onto any pathetic sliver of hope. I just wanted to see what I had actually meant to them for the last seven years. I had never been to their estate before. In seven years of dating, I had never met Julian’s parents. Not once. Whenever I brought it up, he always made the excuse that his family was “traditional” and we would deal with it later. And like an idiot, I believed him. When the front door opened, Julian’s mother immediately locked eyes on Chloe. She grabbed Chloe’s hand, smiling radiantly. “You must be Chloe! Come in, come in!” I stood right there in the doorway, completely ignored. When she finally noticed me, she frowned and asked Julian: “Who is this?” In that fraction of a second, my heart pounded with a nervous, desperate energy. Julian hesitated for half a beat, his tone completely detached. “She’s the new driver the company hired.” I stood there, looking down at my plain, worn-out clothes, and I finally understood everything. In his eyes, compared to Chloe, I was something to be hidden away. His mother immediately lost interest, turning back to chat enthusiastically with Chloe as they walked inside. On the coffee table sat a pile of wedding invitation samples and a bridal catalog. I only glanced at it, but it felt like someone violently yanked my heart out of my chest. I was the one who picked out those invitations. Six months ago, Julian and I stayed up late choosing the perfect design. He told me we would use them for our wedding. The custom dress sketch tucked inside the bridal catalog was the exact gown I had fallen in love with. At the time, I thought it was too expensive and couldn’t justify the cost. He had hugged me, promising that as soon as his year-end bonus hit, he would buy it for me. He didn’t lie about buying it. He just bought it for someone else. His mother flipped through the samples and said softly: “Make sure the names are updated.” Julian took the binder and casually called the wedding planner right in front of me. “Change the bride’s name to Chloe.” “We need to retake the measurements.” His expression didn’t even flicker when he said those words. Listening to him, my chest just felt entirely hollow. After his mother took Chloe upstairs, Julian finally walked over to me. “I…” I stared at him, saying nothing. He sighed. “I’m sorry. Whatever you need, I can still help you.” I suddenly had the urge to burst out laughing. “Did you honestly believe the only reason I stayed with you all these years was for your money?” Julian frowned. “Wasn’t it?” “Actually… I never wanted anything from you. I don’t owe you a single damn thing.” I looked at him, and the very last shred of warmth in my heart froze solid. Right at that moment, my phone rang. It was the hospital. The nurse sounded frantic. “Are you Lily’s family member?” “The patient suffered a sudden emotional breakdown, and her condition is crashing rapidly. You need to get here right now.” My vision went black. I turned and sprinted out the door. When I reached the hospital, Lily was already in the ICU. The doctor said she had seen the rumors online and suffered a massive panic attack. Her body was already incredibly weak, and the sudden psychological shock nearly killed her. I stood outside the glass wall, staring at her frail body in the hospital bed, and the tears finally broke free. Her face was deathly pale, an oxygen tube taped to her nose, her hands bruised purple from IV lines. In that moment, I was too terrified to even breathe too heavily. When they finally let me in, she was awake. Hearing the door, she slowly opened her eyes. The second she saw me, her eyes filled with tears. She grabbed my hand, her grip so weak it felt like she might shatter. “Maya.” I held her hand as tight as I could. “I’m here. Don’t be scared.” She stared at me for a long time, the tears silently rolling down her cheeks. “Maya… are you really the other woman?” My entire body went rigid. I wasn’t afraid of the insults. I didn’t care what the world thought of me or what they did to me. But not Lily. If she hadn’t donated her kidney to save my life, I would be dead. She was permanently bedridden because of the complications from that surgery. I shook my head violently, my throat raw and aching. “No.” “I’m not.” She sobbed, her whole body trembling. “But everyone online is saying it.” “They said you’re a psycho stalking someone else’s husband.” I leaned down, pressing my forehead against her hand, whispering “No, I’m not” over and over again. Suddenly, the door to the ICU was pushed open. I looked back, my muscles instantly tensing up. It was Chloe. And trailing right behind her was Julian’s younger brother, Elliot. I immediately stood up and blocked the path to the bed. “What the hell are you doing here?!” Chloe, holding a ridiculously expensive fruit basket, spoke in a hushed, gentle voice. “I came to clear things up.” “The things people are saying online are awful. I didn’t want Lily to misunderstand.” Hearing that, a faint glimmer of hope actually sparked in Lily’s eyes. She looked at Chloe like a drowning person looking at a life raft. “Chloe… my sister isn’t like that, right?” I looked at Chloe too. For a fraction of a second, I genuinely hoped she would tell the truth. Just one sentence. That’s all it would take. Chloe nodded softly. “Right. It’s not like that.” Lily visibly exhaled, relief washing over her pale face. But the next second, Elliot laughed out loud. “Come on, Chloe, why are you covering for her?” “Her sister is a homewrecker. Everyone knows it.” The hospital room went dead silent. My head snapped toward him violently. Lily froze. Elliot stood lazily by the door, his tone casual, like he was discussing the weather. “My brother and Chloe are legally married, and she’s still obsessing over him like a leech. If that’s not a homewrecker, what is?” All the color drained from Lily’s face. She stared desperately at Chloe, waiting for her to argue back. But Chloe just stood there, her lips pale, and didn’t say a single word. In that moment, I watched the light in my sister’s eyes shatter into a million pieces. The heart monitor began to scream. Her breathing turned ragged, her chest heaving violently, her skin turning an ashen, terrifying gray. “Lily!” I lunged for the emergency call button, then spun around and shoved Chloe with everything I had. “Get out!” “Who told you to come here?!” The fruit basket hit the floor, apples and oranges scattering across the linoleum. Chloe stumbled backward, her face turning pale with panic. “Maya, please listen, Elliot didn’t mean it like that!” I glared at her, my entire body shaking with rage. “Then why didn’t you say anything?!” “You watched her go into cardiac arrest, and you didn’t say a single damn word!” By the time the doctors and nurses rushed in, the room was absolute chaos. I kept screaming for the doctors while physically shoving Chloe and Elliot toward the door. “Get out!” “Get the hell out of here!” Just then, Julian arrived. The moment the door opened, I thought he would at least glance at Lily on the bed. But the very first thing he did was reach out to catch a stumbling Chloe. “Are you okay?!” Chloe’s eyes welled with tears as she gripped his arm tightly. “Julian, I just came to explain things to her, and Maya suddenly attacked me.” Julian’s head snapped toward me, his face thunderous. “Maya, have you completely lost your mind?!” “Chloe came here out of the goodness of her heart to check on your sister!” “She’s pregnant! What if you hurt the baby?!” I stood beside the hospital bed. When those words registered in my brain, a profound, chilling emptiness washed over me. Lily was literally dying. The doctors and nurses were frantically working over her body. The heart monitor was still screaming an unbroken, terrifying alarm. But the only thing Julian saw was Chloe and the child in her stomach. I looked at him, and suddenly, I didn’t want to fight anymore. I just pointed a shaking finger at the door. My voice was so raw I barely recognized it. “Get out.” “All of you. Get out.” The attending physician sharply ordered all non-medical personnel to leave the room. The room finally went quiet. It took a terrifyingly long time to stabilize her. I sat by her bed, holding vigil into the early hours of the morning, until she finally opened her eyes. The moment she saw me, the tears began to fall. I leaned over and hugged her as tight as I could without hurting her. “We’re leaving.” She trembled weakly in my arms. I stroked her hair, my voice soft but shaking. “I’m taking you away from here.” “I’m going to sell the house our parents left us, and we are never, ever coming back.” Lily cried and nodded against my shoulder. “Okay. I’ll go with you.” For the next few days, I barely slept. A week later, all the paperwork was finalized. Right before the plane took off, I checked my phone one last time. No messages. I snapped the SIM card in half and threw it away. I didn’t look back. The hospital wired the remaining balance of the medical fees back to the original payer’s account. The automated memo was brief: [Patient transferred.] Julian read that notification while standing at the altar of his wedding. He frantically dialed my number over and over, but no one answered.

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On the way to the wedding, my fiancé received a hysterical phone call from his ex-wife. “Julian, the baby is having another episode. He keeps crying for you.” This was the third time. Every single time we were about to get married, his son would suffer a psychosomatic episode. Julian looked at me, hesitating. I gave him an understanding nod. “I’ll get out here. You go,” I said. He grasped my hand, his eyes filled with gratitude. “Harper, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Before my feet were even firmly planted on the pavement, he had already ordered the driver to turn the bridal car around. Standing on the curb in my wedding dress, trying to hail a cab, my phone buzzed. A wire transfer notification from Julian: fifteen million dollars. His version of making it up to me. He remembered to send the money. But he forgot what I had told him. Julian, three strikes and you’re out. I accepted the money. After all, a gold digger must always respect the gold. But as gold diggers, we have another cardinal rule: Everyone has a price. Even Julian. And after three strikes, he was no longer worth the effort. … Twitter was exploding again. #UltimateGoldDiggerHarperSterlingDumpedAgain! #MoneyCantBuyClass! Billionaire Julian Vance Cancels Wedding for Ex-Wife and Son—AGAIN! The most viral post featured a high-definition photo of me standing on the side of the road in my wedding gown, hailing a taxi. The comment section was a war zone with tens of thousands of replies. I didn’t even need to read them to know what they said. Half of them mocking me for overestimating my worth. The other half laughing at my humiliation. I scrolled through them with a blank expression. Taking off the wedding dress, I changed into my loungewear and made myself a simple bowl of ramen with a soft-boiled egg. I took a picture and posted it to my Instagram story. No caption. Five minutes later, the replies started rolling in. “Couldn’t lock down the billionaire, so now she’s playing the victim?” “Eating cheap ramen on what was supposed to be your wedding day? Pathetic.” I didn’t reply. I was waiting for Julian to see it. Sure enough, ten minutes later, I received another notification. A wire transfer for five hundred thousand dollars. Attached was a message from Julian: Please treat yourself well. A knowing smile touched my lips. No one else in the world would believe a bowl of ramen could be worth half a million dollars. Five years ago, right after Julian’s divorce, I found him drunk outside a bar and brought him home. That night, I cooked him this exact bowl of ramen. I didn’t try to sleep with him. I didn’t cling to him or demand explanations. That is the playbook of a top-tier gold digger. Seeing that bowl of ramen now only intensified Julian’s guilt. If we were going to part ways, I might as well maximize my payout. Take the money and run. My phone rang. It was Chloe. Her voice was slightly slurred, carrying a lazy, tipsy drawl. “Saw the trending topics. Strike three. Are you holding up?” I hummed softly. “I’m fine.” “Stubborn as always.” She was a gold digger too, but operating in a league far above mine. Years ago, when I was torn between love and money, she gave me a piece of advice. “A true gold digger doesn’t just extract wealth; she extracts a happy life.” “We’ve worked too hard to perfect ourselves. We deserve nothing but the best.” When I met Julian, I genuinely thought I had found my Prince Charming. But Chloe scoffed at the idea. “You can’t compete with his ex-wife and their kid.” “You’re better off securing a massive bag and disappearing.” I wouldn’t listen to her back then. “This time, I’m securing a happy life,” I had said. I had told Julian “three strikes,” giving him his chances while maintaining my bottom line. But I drastically underestimated Julian’s attachment to his son. Blood is thicker than anything. It can drown out everything else. “Chloe, I regret it.” Chloe paused, clearly surprised that I, the stubborn one, was finally admitting defeat. She didn’t mock me. Instead, her tone softened with sympathy. “Come to Switzerland. I’ll show you how to play in the big leagues.” “I’ll send you a job offer. It’ll secure you a three-year visa.” Her husband was the wealthiest man in Switzerland. I knew she had the power to make it happen. Looking at the numbers in my bank account, I thought it over. Julian’s price tag had reached its limit. He was no longer a profitable investment. That night, Julian didn’t come home. The first two times he bailed on the wedding, he spent at least three days with his ex-wife and son. This time would be no exception. I used those days to meticulously review my asset portfolio. Before we officially split, I needed to legally secure all the assets he had gifted me to ensure they couldn’t be reclaimed. I trusted Julian’s character, but I didn’t trust his family’s ruthless lawyers. On the fourth day, Julian returned. But he wasn’t alone. His ex-wife, Sarah, and their son, Leo, came with him. “Harper, Leo’s condition is unstable, and Sarah has a terrible fever. I’ve asked them to stay here for a while.” I just nodded, remaining silent. He brought them directly into our home. Clearly, my permission was never a requirement. That evening, Sarah and Leo settled into the guest room. I was organizing my jewelry when Sarah knocked and entered my bedroom. “Ms. Sterling, I’m so sorry for imposing on you both.” She put on a pitiful, victimized act, looking at me as if I had bullied her. I shook my head slightly. “You’re not.” She pointed to the framed photo on my nightstand. It was a solo shot of Julian in his tuxedo, taken during our wedding photoshoot. “Leo misses his dad so much. He wants a recent photo of him. Would it be alright if I took this one?” I frowned inwardly. What kind of performance is this? Julian had just spent three full days with them. She could have taken a thousand pictures of him. But she specifically wanted the one from my bedroom nightstand. Whatever. I couldn’t care less anymore. “Take it.” As she picked up the frame, tears began to stream down her face. “I’m so jealous of you. You get to see him whenever you want.” She forced a fragile smile. “I’m sorry. I’m embarrassing myself.” Suddenly, a sharp, childish voice yelled from the hallway. “Mommy, don’t cry!” Leo stormed into the room. “You evil witch! You’re bullying my mom again!” I frowned. It was obvious Sarah spent plenty of time badmouthing me to him. Before I could react, Leo shoved me hard. Caught off guard, I lost my balance and fell to the floor. Sarah immediately grabbed his arm. “Baby, don’t hit people. Mommy’s fine…” She emphasized that she was fine, pointedly omitting any clarification that I hadn’t bullied her. Leo’s face flushed bright red with anger. “Mommy, we’re home now! Daddy will protect us! We don’t have to be scared of her anymore!” A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of Sarah’s mouth. Hearing the commotion, Julian rushed out of his study. Seeing me sitting on the floor, clutching my ankle, his face darkened. “What happened?” Sarah immediately dropped to the floor to help me up, apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry! The baby saw your wedding photos and it triggered an episode. He didn’t mean it…” My frown deepened. It was a solo shot. How did it suddenly become a wedding photo? Sarah shot a look at Leo. The next second, Leo clutched his chest and collapsed onto the floor. “Ah… ah…” He writhed on the ground, groaning in pain, sweat beading on his forehead. “Oh my god, the baby is having an episode!” Sarah abandoned me instantly and rushed to Leo. I lost my leverage and fell back down, my tailbone hitting the hardwood floor, sending a sharp jolt of pain up my spine. Julian didn’t even glance at me. He scooped Leo up in his arms. “We need to get to the hospital. Now.” The happy family of three rushed out, leaving me entirely ignored. I let out a helpless chuckle and slowly pulled myself up. I couldn’t throw a fit, and I couldn’t scream about being wronged. Because Julian despised loud, dramatic, clingy women. I opened the first-aid kit and rubbed some arnica gel on my bruises. After a chaotic night at the hospital, Julian finally texted me. “Harper, you need to move out for a while. It’s not good for Leo to see you right now.” “I’m transferring the penthouse on the West Side to your name.” I replied with a single word: “Okay.” Sarah wanted me gone. I wanted to secure one last massive payout before I left. It was a win-win. The next day was my birthday. Julian asked me out to dinner. “I’ve been neglecting you lately. Tonight is just about the two of us.” Knowing the birthday gift would come with a hefty price tag, I agreed. In the private dining room of an exclusive restaurant, he handed me a diamond tennis bracelet. It was exactly the style I loved. “Harper, I know things have been unfair to you lately.” I slipped the bracelet onto my wrist and smiled softly. “It’s fine.” Just as the violinist began to play, two figures walked toward our table. Sarah, holding Leo’s hand, her eyes rimmed with red. “The baby isn’t feeling well, and we ran out of his medication. I couldn’t find you anywhere…” The entire restaurant fell silent for a moment. Someone whispered loudly enough to be heard. “Look at that father, out on a date with his mistress while ignoring his sick kid…” Leo ran toward Julian, burying his face in his chest and bursting into tears. “Daddy, my chest hurts so much…” He glared at me, his little face turning purple with rage. “You evil witch! You stole my daddy again!” He grabbed a wine glass from the table and threw the contents right at my face. I flinched, but the red wine still splashed across my shoulder, staining my dress. “Leo! Stop this right now!” Julian was visibly angry. “Apologize to Aunt Harper immediately!” “No! She stole you! She’s an evil witch!” Sarah quickly stepped forward, pulling Leo away. She looked at Julian, her eyes brimming with heartbroken tears. “I’m so sorry. I failed to raise him right. I apologize to Ms. Sterling…” She played the pathetic, victimized mother flawlessly. If I made a scene now, I would be the villain. The whispers in the restaurant grew louder. Julian hated having his private life turned into public spectacle. He frowned and looked at me. I knew exactly what that look meant. It’s not good for Leo to see you right now… His words from last night echoed in my mind. So, whenever Leo appeared, I was the one who had to hide. I waved my hand dismissively, playing the understanding partner. “You should go. The child comes first.” Julian frowned in hesitation, but it only lasted a second. “Okay. I’ll take them home first.” He picked up Leo and hurried out with Sarah trailing behind him. I used a napkin to dab at the wine stain on my shoulder and signaled the violinist. “Keep playing. I’m paying.” The music resumed, and I leisurely finished the rest of my meal. A waiter approached hesitantly. “Ms. Sterling, Mr. Vance also ordered a custom birthday cake. Would you still like it brought out?” “Yes, bring it.” The exquisite Black Swan cake was placed before me. I closed my eyes and made a wish. “Happy 26th Birthday, Harper.” I took a picture and uploaded it to Instagram, again without a caption. Let the internet interpret it however they wanted. Ten minutes later, a text notification popped up. “Harper, I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you next time.” Followed by a wire transfer for half a million dollars. His promise to “make it up” was meaningless; we wouldn’t be seeing each other again. But the money was very real. As a professional, I had to show the money the respect it deserved. Late that night, back at the penthouse, Julian arrived. He brought a container of crab roe congee. My favorite late-night comfort food. “Leo was out of line tonight, but he’s only six, and he’s sick. I really didn’t have a choice…” “I know. You don’t have to explain.” Julian paused, studying my face. “Are you really not angry?” A flicker of panic crossed his eyes. “You didn’t use to be like this.” I smiled faintly. The first two times he canceled the wedding, I threw absolute fits. Because back then, I had given him my heart. I cared. But now? I felt absolutely nothing for him. Why would I waste energy throwing a tantrum? “You’re already exhausted. How could I add to your burden?” My words made Julian exhale a long breath of relief. “I promise, as soon as Leo is better, I’ll have them move out, and we’ll have our wedding immediately.” I maintained a perfectly polite, graceful smile. I didn’t decline, but I didn’t agree either. Because as long as Sarah was in the picture, her son’s “illness” would never be cured. His phone rang. It was the custom ringtone he had set for his son. “Daddy, when are you coming back?” Then, Sarah’s gentle voice drifted through the speaker. “Leo refuses to sleep. He’s crying for you to read him a bedtime story.” Julian looked at me, torn, his face full of guilt. I waved him off. “Go.” I gave him just the right amount of melancholic vulnerability. “I’m terrified of the dark, but I can manage on my own.” Julian left anyway. But predictably, he transferred another half a million dollars into my account. “Let’s stay on the phone. With my voice keeping you company, you won’t be scared.” The call stayed connected until he walked into Leo’s room. The sound of their happy, picture-perfect family echoed through the speaker. I hung up and went to sleep. Thinking about the zeros in my bank account, I slept incredibly well. Julian hadn’t visited me in a week. I was too busy liquidating assets to care. When he showed up unannounced one afternoon, I scrambled to hide the real estate closing documents. “Leo had a psychological evaluation. His anxiety markers are worse than before.” I stayed silent, waiting for the punchline. “The doctor strongly recommended that both parents be present for his treatment for at least six months…” Julian looked miserable. He paused for a long time before forcing the words out. “Remarrying Sarah… might be the only way to help him recover.” I understood immediately. “So, we’re breaking up?” “Of course not!” He grabbed my hands desperately. “It’s strictly on paper! Just a formality! After six months, I’ll divorce her and marry you!” “Don’t worry, I’m going to compensate you for this.” “I’ve already instructed my lawyers. I’m transferring 10% of Vance Corporation’s shares to you. You’ll be a major shareholder. No one will ever dare question your status.” I lowered my head, feigning absolute devastation. “Julian, are you sure about this?” “I…” He hesitated, unable to answer. Then, I looked up, offering him a sad but forgiving smile. “As long as you’ve thought it through. I trust you.” Julian let out a massive sigh of relief. “Harper, thank you. Having you in my life is my greatest blessing.” He reached out to pull me into a hug. I subtly sidestepped, picking up his coat and handing it to him instead. “Go back to your son. He needs you.” Julian took the coat, standing there awkwardly. I silently counted down in my head. Three, two, one… Right on cue, his phone rang with that custom ringtone. Without a second thought, Julian put on his coat and headed for the door. “This time, we’re only signing papers. No wedding ceremony. I fought for that out of respect for you.” I gave a soft “Mhm.” My mind was already calculating how quickly I could liquidate 10% of a multi-billion dollar corporation. Suddenly, he stopped and looked back. “What’s that? A sales contract?” My heart skipped a beat. He saw it. I kept my composure, my voice casual. “Just looking into some investments. I can’t rely on you to support me forever.” Julian chuckled, not bothering to inspect the papers. “Don’t work too hard. I can support you for the rest of your life.” I offered a polite smile. He meant it in that moment. But he also canceled our wedding three times. That was real, too. The moment Julian left, Vance Corp’s legal team contacted me to sign the Share Transfer Agreement. As soon as my electronic signature was processed, I texted Chloe. “I’m flying to Zurich on Monday.” Chloe replied with a thumbs-up emoji. Julian and Sarah officially remarried. On my way to the airport, I saw Sarah’s Instagram post. A photo of two bright red marriage certificates sitting side-by-side. The caption read: After all the twists and turns, we are meant to be a family. The comments were flooded with congratulations. Some busybody screenshotted the post and put it on Twitter. The comments there were vicious. “Harper the Gold Digger finally lost!” “Serves her right! Good riddance!” “The Vance family values bloodlines above all else. Sarah’s position is bulletproof.” I maintained my silence. A few minutes later, Sarah deleted the post. Julian texted me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she was going to post that.” I didn’t reply. Then, he wired me another half a million dollars. This time, I didn’t reply “Okay.” I had secured my bag. Anything extra was just a bonus. The intercom echoed through the terminal. “Flight 402 to Zurich is now boarding.” I stood up and joined the line. Just then, I heard two familiar voices behind me. “The doctor said a family vacation would be good for his mental health.” “That doesn’t mean you have to call it a honeymoon.” I turned around and locked eyes with Julian, Sarah, and Leo. Before I could even speak, Sarah burst into tears. “Ms. Sterling, we’re just taking our son on a vacation. Do you really have to stalk us?!” Julian frowned, his eyes landing on the boarding pass in my hand. He snatched it away. “You’re flying to Switzerland too? Are you actually following us?” I shook my head calmly. “I had no idea what your itinerary was.” “How could you not know?!” Sarah sobbed louder, drawing attention. “When you went to the corporate office to sign the share transfer, didn’t you interrogate the executive assistant about his schedule?” I understood instantly. Sarah was setting me up again. Julian’s face darkened with anger. “Harper, go home. Stop acting like a child.” I frowned, knowing defending myself was pointless. I’d just change my flight. It wasn’t worth the drama. I grabbed my carry-on and turned to leave, but Leo suddenly went feral and lunged at me. “Evil witch, get out of here!” He shoved me with surprising force. The heel of my stiletto snapped. I lost my balance and pitched forward, slamming hard into the metal armrest of the waiting area chairs. Passengers gasped and crowded around us. Julian instinctively moved to check on me, but Sarah grabbed his arm tightly. “We need to go, now! We can’t let Leo see her anymore. You know he can’t handle the stress!” Julian hesitated, looking down at Leo, who had begun clutching his chest again, hyperventilating. He made his choice. He grabbed Leo’s hand and turned toward the boarding gate. Suddenly, a woman in the crowd shrieked. “Oh my god! She’s bleeding!” “Is she having a miscarriage?!” Julian stopped dead in his tracks. He dropped his son’s hand and sprinted toward me.

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I stood outside the stadium in the freezing wind for three hours on Valentine’s Day, waiting for my wife, Sarah, to finally show up. But when the ticket checker urged us to go inside, she pulled a nosebleed-section ticket out of her purse and shoved it into my hand. “I gave the VIP front-row ticket to Leo. You can just make do in the upper deck and listen from there.” I stared at the seat number on the ticket, completely stunned. Sarah spoke as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “Leo grew up poor. He’s never been to a real concert in his entire life.” “He wanted to see his idol up close, and I already promised him the best seat.” I turned around. The college student she sponsored, Leo, was already swaggering toward the VIP entrance, waving a glow stick. Seeing me standing frozen in place, Sarah grew impatient. “You’re just here to listen to the music anyway. It sounds the same from up there. We’ll all go home together when it’s over.” “Let Leo experience the VIP atmosphere for once. You’re the adult here, why are you being so petty?” With that, she didn’t even look back. She followed right behind Leo, laughing and chatting as they walked through the security gates. I stood there in silence, watching their retreating backs. Since the day we got married, this “underprivileged student” had haunted our lives like a ghost. Because Leo said he’d never worn designer brands, the limited-edition sneakers in my closet were simply taken and worn by him. Because Leo said he’d never seen the ocean, our wedding anniversary trip turned into a graduation vacation for him in Miami. And now, the VIP Valentine’s Day concert tickets I had pulled strings to get, he had to take over those, too. A scalper wandered over, sizing me up. “Hey man, the show’s about to start. Are you going in or what?” I looked at the nosebleed ticket in my hand and sold it to him at a massive discount. “I’m not going. Take it.” I had decided to walk out on this concert—and this marriage. …… “Are you serious? It’s the Valentine’s Day show! They’re about to come on stage.” The scalper counted the cash, glancing up at me as if trying to figure me out. “I’m not going,” I repeated, my voice eerily calm as I shoved the money into my pocket. “It’s no fun watching alone.” The scalper shook his head and turned away to find his next buyer. Deafening cheers erupted from inside the stadium. The concert had officially begun. I stood outside the gates, looking through the massive glass walls at the sea of flashing lights. In the very first row of the VIP section, Sarah and Leo were sitting shoulder to shoulder. Leo was wildly waving his glow stick, looking ecstatic. Sarah turned her head to look at his profile, a tender smile on her lips that I hadn’t seen directed at me in years. I watched them quietly for a few moments, then turned and walked away into the night. The wind was bitter cold, biting into my skin. I didn’t call an Uber. I just walked slowly down the empty streets. Passing a convenience store, I went in and bought a cheap beer. I sat on a bench by the river, popped the tab, and took a long sip. The bitter liquid slid down my throat, making my stomach churn. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from Sarah. “Did you get inside? Why don’t I see you?” “Leo said he’s craving boba. Go buy two warm cups from the shop outside the venue and bring them in. Make sure they’re warm; his stomach is sensitive.” I stared at the words on the screen. I didn’t reply. I just locked my phone. In her mind, I was nothing more than her personal, on-call assistant. Even though she had literally just given my VIP ticket to another man, she genuinely believed I would happily run errands for them without a second thought. I leaned back against the bench, looking at the city lights reflecting on the water. Seven years together. Three years of marriage. I didn’t know exactly when, but at some point, Leo became the third person in our relationship. Sarah always said he had a tragic life. He fought so hard to get into college, and as his sponsor, it was her duty to take care of him. At first, I understood. I even joined her in buying him clothes and a laptop. Until I noticed that all his clothes were high-end designer brands, and his laptop was a top-tier Alienware gaming rig. Meanwhile, for my birthday, Sarah bought me a discounted tie. “You’re a married man, why do you need to dress up? We should save the money to pay for Leo’s extra tutoring classes.” Those were her exact words. I finished the last sip of beer, crushed the can, and tossed it into the trash. I stood up and hailed a cab. “To the Westridge Condos, please.” When I pushed the front door open, the apartment was pitch black. I didn’t turn on the lights. I walked over to the sofa guided by the moonlight and sat down. On the coffee table sat a bowl of the chicken noodle soup I had spent all afternoon slow-cooking. It was completely cold now. Sarah had mentioned her throat was dry, so I made it specifically for her. She hadn’t taken a single bite before rushing out the door to pick up Leo. I stood up, dumped the soup down the sink, and threw the expensive ceramic bowl I had carefully picked out straight into the trash. At 1:30 AM, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. Sarah walked in, bringing with her the faint scent of expensive perfume. She flicked on the lights, startled when she saw me sitting in the dark. “What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark like a ghost in the middle of the night?” She frowned, complaining as she kicked off her heels. “Where’s the boba I asked for? Do you have any idea how thirsty Leo was? He had to settle for the overpriced bottled water at the venue.” I looked at her, my voice completely flat. “I didn’t go.” Sarah stopped halfway through taking off her shoes. She looked up, a flash of irritation crossing her face. “What is that supposed to mean? Did you not see my text?” “I saw it.” I leaned back into the sofa, clasping my hands over my knees. “You saw it and you didn’t go? Ethan, is this your new thing? Throwing a tantrum over every little thing?” She marched over and glared down at me. “Are you still giving me attitude over a stupid ticket?” “Leo is just a student. Why are you competing with him? Can’t you be the bigger person?” Looking at her aggressive, entitled expression, I suddenly found it all incredibly funny. “The bigger person, or a pathetic doormat?” I asked quietly. Sarah froze for a second before her face darkened. “Don’t speak to me like that! I sponsor his education. What is wrong with showing him the world a little?” “If you’re going to sit here and act like a victim, I’ll just buy you another concert ticket next time!” She was always like this. Habitually making empty promises. Habitually dismissing my feelings. “Don’t bother.” I stood up and walked past her toward the bedroom. “I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.” Sarah let out a cold scoff behind me. “Whatever. You better stay in there for the rest of your life.” I didn’t look back. I just quietly shut the door behind me. The next morning, I woke up to the sound of drawers being slammed open and shut. I walked out of the guest room and saw Sarah tearing through our master closet. “Where did you put the Rolex?” She asked, not even bothering to look at me. It was the Rolex Submariner I had saved up for months to buy myself for my thirtieth birthday last year. “Why are you looking for it?” I leaned against the doorframe, watching her calmly. “Leo has an interview for an internship at a major corporate firm tomorrow. He doesn’t have a decent watch to make a good impression.” Sarah answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You barely wear it anyway. Just let him borrow it for a few days.” I watched her digging through my personal belongings, and I realized I didn’t even feel angry anymore. “I sold it.” I said plainly. Sarah’s hand froze mid-air. She whipped her head around, staring at me in absolute disbelief. “You sold it? You have no right to sell it! You bought that watch!” “Because it’s mine, I can sell it.” I turned and walked toward the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. Sarah stormed out after me. “Ethan, did you do this on purpose? You knew Leo had an important interview today!” “His interview has absolutely nothing to do with me.” I took a sip of water, my tone completely indifferent. “He’s your charity case, not my illegitimate son.” “You—” Sarah choked on her words, her face turning crimson with rage. “You are being completely unreasonable! When did you become so cold-blooded and selfish?!” She grabbed her purse from the sofa and glared at me viciously. “Fine! Keep your stupid watch! I’ll just go to the boutique and buy him a brand new one!” With that, she turned on her heels and stormed out, slamming the door hard behind her. As the deafening slam echoed through the apartment, silence finally returned. I set down my glass and walked out to the balcony. Down below, Sarah hopped into the Porsche I had bought her and sped out of the complex. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. “Hello, Mr. Davis? This is Ethan.” “Yes, I’d like to consult with you about property division in a divorce.” “There won’t be a dispute. I only want what legally belongs to me.” Hanging up, I walked back into the bedroom and started packing my things. Honestly, I didn’t have much. Over our three years of marriage, the apartment had mostly been filled with Sarah’s designer clothes and bags, or the expensive “school supplies” she bought for Leo. I pulled out a suitcase and packed a few sets of clothes. At the very bottom of a drawer, I found an old photo album. Inside were pictures of us from college. Back then, Sarah would cry if I pushed myself too hard working part-time jobs and got a fever. In the winter, she used to slip her freezing hands into my collar to warm them up. I looked at the girl in the photos, smiling so brightly, and quietly closed the album. Then, I tossed it into a trash bag along with some old books. Some things expire. And when they do, you throw them away. That afternoon, I went into the office. My boss looked surprised when he saw me. “Ethan? Didn’t you take PTO to spend Valentine’s Day with your wife? Why are you here?” I smiled and handed him an envelope. “Mr. King, I’m planning to move back to my hometown. This is my letter of resignation.” Mr. King was stunned. “Moving back? You’re doing great here! You’re next in line to be the department manager. Why the sudden exit?” “Family issues.” I didn’t elaborate, but my tone was resolute. Mr. King sighed. He knew he couldn’t change my mind, so he signed the paperwork. “Alright. Just wrap up your handovers. I’ll make sure you get your full salary for the month.” “Thank you, sir.” Walking out of his office, I started clearing out my desk. My coworkers gathered around, asking questions, but I just brushed them off with the “moving back home” excuse. After packing everything into a cardboard box, I walked out of the corporate building. The sun was blinding. I squinted slightly. My phone buzzed. It was an Instagram update from Leo. In the photo, a brand-new Rolex Submariner was strapped to his wrist. The caption read: [Thank you, sis, for the interview gift! I promise to work hard.] The location was tagged at the most expensive, high-end steakhouse in the city center. I liked the post, then calmly closed the app. For the next few days, Sarah and I engaged in a complete cold war. I left early and came back late, busy handing over my work and terminating our apartment lease. Sarah spent every waking moment catering to Leo—prepping him for his interview, celebrating his new job. We lived under the same roof, but we acted like the other was invisible. On Friday afternoon, while I was finalizing my last report at the office, a sharp, stabbing pain ripped through my stomach. My irregular eating habits over the last few days had triggered my chronic gastritis. I gritted my teeth through the pain and took a cab to the hospital. The doctor diagnosed it as acute gastroenteritis and hooked me up to an IV drip. I sat alone in the corner of the infusion room, watching the cold medication drip slowly into my vein. Everyone else around me was accompanied by family. I was the only one sitting alone. The intense cramping in my stomach caused a layer of cold sweat to break out on my forehead. I closed my eyes, trying to endure the discomfort. Right then, my phone rang. It was Sarah. This was the first time she had initiated contact in five days. I hesitated for a second before answering. “Hello.” My voice was weak. “Ethan, are you off work?” Her voice sounded cheerful, the background noise loud and chaotic. “I’m still out. What do you want?” “It’s Leo’s first day on the job! His coworkers are throwing him a welcome party. Swing by the ‘Midnight’ club on your way home and cover the tab.” She ordered me around with absolute entitlement. I looked at the IV needle in my hand and let out a dry, quiet laugh. “I’m busy.” “What do you mean you’re busy? You get off at 5:30!” Sarah’s tone instantly turned impatient. “Leo just graduated. He doesn’t have that kind of money. His coworkers expect him to treat them, he can’t just lose face on his first day.” “You’re his brother-in-law. What’s the big deal if you pay for it?” Brother-in-law. What a pathetic joke. “Whether he loses face or not is his problem.” I closed my eyes, my voice devoid of any emotion. “Sarah, I don’t print money. I have zero obligation to fund your precious ‘little brother’.” The line went dead silent for a second. Then, Sarah exploded. “Ethan! Do you really have to be this petty right now?!” “I’m the one calling you first! How long are you going to hold this grudge?!” “Do you know the senior employees bullied him today? He’s really upset. I just wanted to cheer him up!” Listening to her rapid-fire accusations, the pain in my stomach seemed to twist even harder. “If he’s upset, you stay and comfort him.” “Stop bothering me.” With that, I hung up. I immediately muted my phone. It was past 9:00 PM when the IV finally finished. I pressed a cotton swab against my bruised hand and walked out of the hospital. The night air was freezing. I pulled my jacket tighter around myself. When I got back to the apartment, it was pitch black. I didn’t bother turning on the lights and walked straight into the guest room. Lying in bed, I unlocked my phone. Sarah hadn’t called or texted again. But on Instagram, I saw a post she had uploaded five minutes ago. The photo was taken under the dim neon lights of the club. Leo was in the center of a group of young people, holding up a shot glass, grinning cockily. Sarah was sitting right next to him, leaning in close, looking at him with absolute adoration. The caption read: [My little man is all grown up and ready to face the real world. Your big sister will always have your back.] In the comments, a few of our mutual friends were teasing her. “Whoa, Sarah is so protective! Doesn’t Ethan get jealous?” Sarah replied directly: [He’s not that petty. He knows Leo is just a little brother to me.] I stared at her reply and let out a cynical scoff. Yeah. I wasn’t that petty. Because I didn’t care anymore. I tapped on her profile and muted her posts. Then, I texted my lawyer. “Mr. Davis, are the divorce papers ready? I want to sign them as soon as possible.” Saturday was our three-year wedding anniversary. In previous years, I would have booked an expensive restaurant weeks in advance and meticulously planned a gift. But this year, I did nothing. When I woke up, I packed my last few shirts into my suitcase. Mr. Davis had emailed me the finalized divorce agreement. I printed two copies and placed them neatly on the living room coffee table. Around noon, Sarah came home on time—a rare occurrence these days. She was carrying an elegant cake box from an expensive bakery, a tentative, apologetic smile on her face. “Ethan, today is our three-year anniversary. I waited in line all morning to get your favorite matcha mousse cake.” She set the cake on the dining table and walked over, trying to loop her arm through mine. I stepped sideways, dodging her touch. Sarah’s hand froze in mid-air, her smile hardening. “Are you still mad about last night?” She sighed, softening her tone. “I already explained it. Leo just started his job, he was stressed out. I just went to check on him.” “I’m not going anywhere today. I’m staying right here to celebrate with you, okay?” She spoke like a queen bestowing a grand favor upon a peasant. I looked at her and said nothing. Just then, her phone rang. Sarah glanced at the caller ID, her expression shifting instantly. She stepped out onto the balcony, lowering her voice as she answered. Despite her attempt to whisper, I heard everything. “Leo? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” “Your landlord is kicking you out? Why? Don’t panic, I’m coming right now.” Hanging up, she rushed back into the living room and grabbed her purse from the sofa. “Ethan, there’s a huge issue with Leo’s apartment. His landlord is evicting him. I have to go see what’s going on.” She spoke rapidly, slipping on her shoes. “You go ahead and eat the cake. I made reservations for dinner tonight. I’ll come pick you up as soon as I sort this out.” I stared at her frantic movements, my voice completely dead. “Today is our wedding anniversary.” Sarah paused halfway through putting on her shoe. She looked back at me, pure irritation flashing in her eyes. “I know it’s our anniversary! But I can’t just let Leo end up homeless on the street, can I?!” “I told you we’d have dinner tonight! Can you please just be mature and stop throwing a tantrum at the worst possible time?” Mature. There was that word again. I looked at her, and suddenly, I felt incredibly light. “Okay. Go.” Sarah seemed shocked by how easily I agreed. She froze for a second. Then, she exhaled a sigh of relief. “See? That’s more like it. Be a good boy and wait for me.” With that, she yanked the door open and rushed out. As the heavy door clicked shut, the apartment plunged into absolute silence. I walked over to the dining table and opened the cake box. Matcha mousse. It was exquisite. Beautifully crafted. But I’m severely allergic to matcha. After three years of marriage, she still didn’t even know that. I picked up the little plastic fork, scooped a tiny piece, and put it in my mouth. The bitter taste flooded my tongue. I dumped the rest of the cake, box and all, into the trash can. Walking over to the coffee table, I picked up a pen. At the bottom of the divorce agreement, I signed my name. The strokes were sharp and deliberate. There was no hesitation. At 5:00 PM, Sarah sent me a text. “Leo’s lease is totally canceled. I’m helping him move all his stuff. I probably won’t make it back tonight. I canceled the dinner reservations. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” I stared at the text on the screen, calmly typing my reply. “Don’t bother coming back.” I hit send. Then, I blocked her on Instagram. I went into my contacts and blocked her phone number. I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, took the keychain with our wedding photo charm off my ring, and placed the keys directly on top of the signed divorce papers. Click. The front door locked behind me. This three-year marriage was officially over.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “574801”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The night before our wedding, my father and my fiancée’s mother were found dead in our bridal bed, completely naked. After that, we went from being the golden couple of our elite social circle… To bitter enemies who wanted nothing more than to destroy each other. She screamed that my father was a bastard, a rapist. She brought people to smash up his funeral. I cursed her mother, calling her a shameless whore. I scattered her ashes in public. To please her new boy toy, she ran me over with her car, shattering my leg and leaving me bedridden for a month. In return, I stabbed her in the stomach three times, putting her in the hospital for half a year. Everyone thought we would torture each other until one of us was dead. Until her little boy toy showed up at my door, waving her ultrasound results in my face. “Elena is pregnant with my kid. If you know what’s good for you, back the hell off and never show your face in front of her again!” “The Sterling empire and Elena both belong to me now!” I looked at the ultrasound and smiled. Twirling a hunting knife in my hand, I dialed Elena’s number. “Elena Sterling, you have thirty minutes to make a choice.” “Your little boy toy’s life, or the baby in your stomach. Which one do you want to keep?” 1 On the other end of the line, Elena’s breathing was erratic and heavy. But she didn’t explode in a fit of rage like I expected. Instead, she lowered her voice. “Let him go, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” I let out a soft laugh, dragging out the silence intentionally. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch that.” Elena took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was alarmingly soft. It almost sounded like she was begging. “Julian… let Liam go. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” “Money, real estate, my shares in Sterling Corp…” “Just… please don’t hurt him.” My grip on the knife tightened, freezing mid-twirl. This was the woman who threw red paint all over my father’s casket. The woman who ran me over with her car. The woman who feared absolutely nothing and no one. And now, she was groveling to me for the sake of her lover and her unborn child? A dark, twisted rage surged from the bottom of my chest. It burned so hot my temples throbbed. Staring at the ultrasound photo, I sneered, “What makes you think I want your garbage?” I gave my security detail a hand signal. They understood immediately and started beating Liam into the ground. His screams were so loud they practically shook the ceiling. I watched him writhe in agony on the floor with zero expression on my face. “Julian! Don’t you dare touch him!” Elena’s frantic roar blasted through the phone speaker. I remained completely unmoved. “Since you refuse to make a choice, I’ll make it for you.” I hung up. I gave the guards another look. They hit him harder. Through his screams, Liam still found the breath to act tough. “Julian, you psycho! Don’t get too cocky, Elena is going to kill you for this!” It didn’t take long for Elena to arrive. I glanced at my watch. She got here even faster than I calculated. When she burst through the doors, she was missing a shoe. Her bare foot was bleeding, leaving a trail of red smeared across the carpet. She didn’t even notice. Her eyes were entirely focused on the man bleeding on the floor. Elena dropped to her knees and shielded Liam with her body. But instead of flying into a rage, she just looked up at me with exhausted eyes. “Julian, I’m tired. I don’t want to play this psycho game with you anymore.” “I’m pregnant now. I just want to live quietly and be a mother to my child.” “Let’s just stop torturing each other. Please?” Seeing her act so submissive and meek, a blinding irritation flared in my chest. “Ha! You say stop, and we just stop? You think things between us can end that easily?” “Let me make this clear. This man’s life ends today!” I raised my hand, signaling the guards to finish the job. “Stop!” Elena screamed, throwing her entire body over Liam. She glared at me, her lips trembling. “What exactly do I have to do for you to let him go?” Seeing her protect him so fiercely only poured gasoline on the fire in my heart. I casually tossed the hunting knife so it landed right by her feet. I smiled. “Carve up your own face, and I’ll let him walk.” Elena didn’t hesitate for a single second. She picked up the knife and slashed it hard across her own cheek. Blood instantly welled up, spilling down her skin. She looked up at me, her voice terrifyingly calm. “Is that enough? If it’s not…” She flipped the blade, pressing the edge against her own fingers. My chest suddenly felt tight. My breath caught in my throat. Liam clung to Elena’s arm, shaking his head frantically, screaming at me, “If you want to hurt someone, hurt me! Don’t do this to her!” Elena stared at me coldly, gritting her teeth. “Don’t beg him. He’s a psychopath.” “He’s an animal, just like his father.” Hearing that familiar insult… For some reason, my heart gave a sharp, agonizing twist. “Boss,” my assistant whispered from behind me. “If someone dies here tonight, the PR fallout will be catastrophic for the company.” “You fought so hard to bring Vance Enterprises back from the brink. You can’t let all your blood and sweat go to waste over this.” I took a deep breath, forcing down the violent urge to kill, and spoke coldly. “Elena Sterling, you can take him.” “But you better keep his mouth shut.” “Otherwise, I will not hesitate to put him in the ground.” Elena dropped the bloody knife at my feet. She gave me one last, long look. Her eyes were filled with absolute, unfiltered hatred. Then, she helped Liam up, and they limped out the door together. Watching them lean on each other as they walked away, my hands curled into tight fists. 2 My assistant sighed. “Boss, you gave Ms. Sterling your whole heart, but she acts like she’s possessed, fighting you at every single turn.” “There were so many suspicious details about what happened that night…” I acted like I didn’t hear him. I bent down and picked up the bloody knife. My thumb brushed over the tiny initials engraved on the handle. E.S. This knife was her gift to me when we first got together. I remember her smiling at me back then. “Julian, this is for you. If anyone ever tries to bully you, you take this and stab them right back.” Neither of us could have ever imagined we would end up tearing each other apart. I let out a bitter scoff and tossed the knife into the trash can. That evening, a subordinate came into my office. “Boss, we finally got a lead on what actually happened between your father and Mrs. Sterling.” I nodded. “Keep digging. Find the truth as fast as you can.” The subordinate hesitated, glancing nervously at my face. He stammered, “There’s… there’s something else.” “Liam took your mother’s heirloom and put it up for auction…” My head snapped up. “What did you just say?” My mother gave me a jade bangle before she died. It was the Vance family heirloom. It belonged to the woman who would become the matriarch of the Vance family. When Elena gave me the knife, I gave her the bangle. She knew exactly what it meant to me. And she turned around and gave it to Liam! I crushed my cigarette into the ashtray in my palm. I laughed, a cold, dark sound. “Since he loves playing with dead people’s things so much, I’ll make sure he gets his fill.” At 2:00 AM, Liam was dragged into a private cemetery, tied up and gagged. “Julian! Let me go!” “If you touch me, Elena will literally kill you!” I acted like I didn’t hear him. I casually rolled the jade bangle—which I had just intercepted from the auction house—around my knuckles. I watched with a deadpan expression as my men threw Liam into an empty pine coffin. They nailed the lid shut, and started shoveling dirt into the grave, one spade at a time. Inside the cramped, pitch-black box, Liam began frantically beating on the wood. “Help! Oh my god, help! Elena, save me!” His terrified, muffled screams echoed through the empty cemetery. I just stood there and watched. Until a sudden, blinding pain exploded against the back of my head. It felt like something heavy had crushed my skull. Blood immediately poured down my face, blinding my vision. I stumbled, turning around to see Elena standing behind me, her hand gripping a bloody brick. Her eyes were bloodshot. “Julian, you are a psychotic monster!” Seeing me bleeding, my guards immediately lunged at her security detail. The cemetery erupted into total chaos. I wiped the blood from my eyes and laughed coldly. “Elena, if you don’t kill me tonight, I am going to bury Liam alive.” “I am a psycho. And I keep my promises.” Elena looked at the dead, chilling emptiness in my eyes and froze for a second. Then, she screamed hysterically. “Julian Vance! I never should have saved you when we were kids!” “A parasite like you deserved to be beaten to death by those bullies!” The hatred in her eyes was too sharp. It felt like she took a knife and twisted it directly into my chest, shredding my organs to pieces. In my blurred vision, I suddenly saw her as she was all those years ago. Except back then, there was no hate in her eyes. Only an overflowing, fierce tenderness. She had fought off the bullies, put me on her back, and carried me step-by-step toward the hospital. I lay on her back, bleeding all over her shirt. Panting, she had turned her head and said, “Don’t let go, Julian. I’m right here. I’ll never leave you behind.” She was the one who said she’d never leave me behind. And now, she was using those exact same hands that once carried me… To smash my skull open with a brick. 3 I collapsed. Before the darkness swallowed me entirely, I saw Elena dragging a dirt-covered Liam away from the grave. When I finally woke up, I was lying in a VIP hospital bed. I grabbed the rail and pushed myself up, struggling to get out of bed. My assistant rushed over, trying to stop me. “Boss, you can’t! The doctor said your body is completely failing.” “The wound on your head is deep. You have to stay on bed rest.” I shoved his hand away impatiently. “I don’t have time to rest.” After my father died, Vance Enterprises plummeted. The business partners who used to beg for our time turned their backs on us instantly. They pulled funding, broke contracts, and vanished. Even the older generation of the Vance family was just sitting back, waiting to watch me fail. For years, I had to grit my teeth, bleed, and ruthlessly manipulate everyone just to keep the company from going bankrupt. Tonight, there was a massive corporate gala that would determine the entire future of the company. I had to be there. My assistant knew he couldn’t stop me. He arranged for my immediate discharge. That evening, the moment I walked into the ballroom, I saw Liam. He was dressed in a pristine designer tuxedo. He was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by a group of trust-fund kids. “Liam, you are incredible! Not just anyone can get an invite to this gala. We’re only here because of you.” “Damn straight! Do you guys know who Liam is now? Ms. Sterling is carrying his kid! The entire Sterling empire is basically going to be his.” “We’re all going to be relying on you from now on, Liam!” Liam tried to hide his smirk, playing humble. “Oh, stop. It’s just because Elena loves me.” Just as he finished speaking, someone spotted me. The guy immediately raised his voice, mocking me loudly. “Well, well, if it isn’t Julian Vance. Why do you look so pale?” “Don’t you guys know? He’s pale because his genes are weak. After all, his dad had a heart attack while screwing around in bed…” Before he could finish the sentence, I kicked him squarely in the chest. I grabbed him by the collar, my face dark and murderous. “Say one more word. I dare you.” The guy turned white with terror. The surrounding crowd went completely silent. Everyone knew I was completely unhinged. No one wanted to risk getting their hands dirty with a madman. Liam frowned. He swirled his champagne glass and slowly walked over to me. “Julian… did you know that you and Elena actually had a child?” My hand froze. Seeing my stiff reaction, the cruel smile on Liam’s face widened. “You had no idea, did you? When you stabbed Elena three times, she was already pregnant with your baby.” He stared at me, thoroughly enjoying the sight of the color draining from my face. “Elena hates your family. She hated that baby, too. She just wanted to use your own hands to murder your own flesh and blood.” “Tell me, Julian. You personally murdered your own unborn child… How does it feel?” “You’re a dead man!” The last thread of my sanity snapped. I crushed Liam’s champagne glass with my bare hand. I grabbed a jagged shard of glass and drove it directly into his eye. “AGGGHHHH!” A horrifying, blood-curdling scream echoed through the ballroom. Liam clutched his bleeding eye, dropping to the floor, rolling around in agony. I stepped forward with absolute, cold-blooded precision. Like an absolute maniac, I started raining punches down on his bloodied face. The crowd screamed in terror, scrambling backward, terrified by my suicidal rage. Liam’s trust-fund friends were so scared their legs gave out. One of them shakingly pulled out his phone, trying to call Elena. My bodyguard reacted instantly, kicking the guy to the floor. My men pinned his friends to the ground and started brutally beating them as well. The ballroom descended into pure chaos. Screams and begging mixed together in a horrifying symphony. A few minutes later, the ballroom doors were thrown open. Elena rushed in with an army of bodyguards. Seeing Liam’s face beaten to a bloody pulp on the floor… Her pupils contracted violently. “Julian! Stop it right now!” 4 I acted like I didn’t even hear her. I was a rabid animal, still smashing my fists into Liam’s unrecognizable face. Furious, Elena lunged forward and tried to slap me. I caught her wrist in mid-air. I stared at her, my eyes completely bloodshot. “Were you pregnant with my child?!” “Did you let me stab you on purpose?!” Elena froze for two seconds. Then she sneered, violently yanking her hand away. “So what if I was? Let me tell you something, Julian. I did it on purpose.” “I wanted you to personally slaughter the Vance family’s bastard child!” My ears rang. A high-pitched, deafening whine filled my head. Her words were like rusty nails, driven straight through my heart. I couldn’t breathe. On the floor, Liam clutched his ruined eye, groaning miserably. “Elena… it hurts so much…” “You have to make him pay…” “Julian is a fucking psycho!” Elena was trembling with rage. She pointed at me, her voice shaking. “Julian, you are completely out of your mind.” “This is public attempted murder! You are a menace to society, and you deserve to rot in prison!” With the backing of the Sterling family, Liam’s friends suddenly found their courage and started screaming at me too. “She’s right! This guy is a rabid dog!” “Throw him in prison so he learns what it means to be scared!” Liam scrambled up from the floor, hiding behind Elena. He gave me a bloody, victorious smirk. He silently mouthed the words: [You can’t beat me!] A wave of pure, blinding heat rushed to my brain. Without thinking, I lunged forward. But the next second, Elena shoved me hard in the chest. She glared at me, her guard up. “Julian, what do you think you’re doing?!” I stumbled backward. My phone slipped out of my pocket and hit the floor. The screen lit up, displaying a new text message. My eyes instantly went ice cold. In that fraction of a second, a million thoughts raced through my head. Until only one blazing, unquenchable fire remained. My eyes burned completely red. I shoved Elena aside and charged straight for Liam. “Liam! I am going to kill you!” Liam saw the terrifying, murderous intent in my eyes and stumbled backward in panic. “Elena… save me!” Just as my hand closed around Liam’s collar, ready to throw the killing punch… A sharp, agonizing pain exploded in my lower back. A knife was driven deep into my flesh. My body jerked to a halt. I slowly, stiffly turned my head. I looked directly into Elena’s tear-filled eyes. A flash of conflict crossed her face, but she gritted her teeth and stabbed the knife into my stomach twice more. “Julian! This is for my mother, and for Liam!” The three deep wounds caused blood to erupt from my body. But I didn’t feel the pain. Instead, I threw my head back and started laughing hysterically. Elena grabbed my hair, frowning furiously. “Julian, what the hell are you laughing at?!” “You’re about to die, and you’re still acting arrogant?!” I pushed Liam away, grabbed Elena’s hand, pulled her close, and whispered directly into her ear, word by word: “Elena, you are incredibly stupid.” “Did you know the man you’ve been protecting this whole time… is the one who murdered your mother?” The cold, ruthless anger in Elena’s eyes froze completely. “What did you just say?”

To vent his anger for my adopted sister, my husband, Liam, the captain of the local Search and Rescue team, left me—three months pregnant—stranded on a snowy mountain. That same day, an avalanche hit. Buried under the snow, crying, I dialed the SAR emergency line. “Help, this is Maya… There was an avalanche. I’m buried.” The person on the other end let out a cold scoff. “Ms. Davis, Captain Sterling already gave us a heads-up. He said you’d try to maliciously tie up our resources today.” “He told us to ignore you completely.” The line went dead. I immediately called my parents. Hearing my sobs, their tone was full of impatience. “Maya, Chloe has always had a weak constitution.” “Yet you intentionally locked her out of the house and made her catch a fever.” “Sending you to the mountain was just to teach you a lesson.” I dialed Liam’s number one last time. He only gave a cold reply: “Stop acting crazy and think about what you did.” The final wave of the avalanche completely buried me. Before I closed my eyes, my blood soaked through the white snow. And yet, in my fading vision, I imagined him holding my adopted sister’s hand, slowly walking toward me… … “Help… Avalanche… I’m buried near the North Ridge base camp…” The snow was already past my waist. I dialed the SAR hotline over and over. My right leg was pinned under a snapped metal tent frame. Every tiny movement felt like my bones were shattering. Worse still, a rhythmic, tightening pain was starting in my lower abdomen. The call finally connected. Like grabbing the last lifeline, I choked out: “This is Maya Davis. I’m buried under the snow. My coordinates are…” Before I could finish, a familiar voice cut me off. “Captain’s wife, right?” I froze for a second. “Captain Sterling already gave the order. He said you two had a fight today and you’d try to maliciously tie up rescue resources.” “If this is just to force the Captain to come back to you, I’d suggest you stop.” I was crying now, my vision blurring with white frost. “No! I’m not tying up resources!” “There really was an avalanche! I’m buried, my leg is crushed, I can’t get out!” “Please, you have to come! My stomach hurts so much… I’m really going to die…” The person on the other end clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Ma’am, the emergency rescue line is not a marital dispute hotline.” “Whatever issues you and the Captain have, we advise you to resolve them privately.” The call was abruptly disconnected. The busy signal echoed in my ear. I clutched my phone, my fingers aching from the freezing cold. The next second, the icy wind slashed across my face like a knife. A layer of white frost quickly formed on my eyelashes. Every breath of freezing air stung my lungs. My pinned leg was already completely numb, but my lower abdomen felt like a dull blade was twisting inside it. I bit my lip, my trembling hands protectively covering my stomach. “It’s okay…” “Don’t be scared, baby. Mommy will call again…” I dialed right back. This time, they picked up even faster. Before I could speak, the voice on the other end was already icy: “Ma’am, why are you calling again?” I cried out: “I’m really not lying!” I held the phone up toward the howling storm. The rumble of the collapsing mountain echoed around me as snow cascaded down. “Listen! You can hear the avalanche! I’m pregnant, and my stomach hurts so much!” “I really can’t hold on much longer!” “Please, just track my phone’s GPS and send someone…” A few low chuckles came through the receiver. “The Captain called it perfectly.” “With a crazy woman like this at home, no wonder he doesn’t want to go back…” When the dispatcher spoke again, his tone was entirely dismissive. “Ma’am, you are being ridiculous.” “If you continue to harass the emergency line, we will have to report it.” “Please don’t interfere with people who actually need rescuing.” A deep chill ran through my entire body. “But I am the person who actually needs rescuing…” I didn’t even get to finish the sentence. The call was hung up again. The moment the screen went dark, a text popped up. It was Liam. [Maya, are you done yet?] [I just left you on the mountain so you could reflect on your actions. Did you really have to make a scene in front of my whole team?] [The SAR team is busy. We don’t have time to play along with your drama.] I stared at those words. The tears that hit the screen quickly froze into ice. I was genuinely dying, but no one believed me. Mustering my last bit of strength, I dialed 911. When it connected, I practically screamed: “Help… I’m on the mountain… My stomach is in agony, I’m bleeding so much…” The operator paused for a few seconds. “I apologize, ma’am, but our system shows your number has multiple flagged records for malicious distress calls.” “According to protocol, we need to contact a family member to verify.” Panic seized me instantly. “Don’t call him…” “Please, just send an ambulance! I’m really…” But the call was already being transferred. A few seconds later, the background noise changed. It sounded lively on the other end. I could hear someone comforting Chloe: “Don’t worry, Chloe. Just rest up in the hospital.” “Mom and Dad are here. We won’t let anyone bully you.” Then, Chloe’s fragile voice drifted through. “Is that my sister on the phone?” “Is she still mad at me?” I heard Liam comforting her in a low voice: “Don’t worry about her. If she won’t admit she’s wrong, she can just stay up there.” The 911 operator asked: “Sir, is Ms. Maya Davis currently in any danger?” Liam’s voice was freezing cold, without a hint of hesitation. “No.” “She’s throwing a tantrum. Do not dispatch an ambulance.” I gripped my phone tightly, a broken sound escaping my throat: “Liam…” The wind and snow whipped into my mouth, making it impossible to form a complete sentence. “It hurts… so much…” Another sharp cramp ripped through my abdomen, and I curled into a tight ball. The snow beneath me was starting to turn red. Ignoring the pain, I desperately tried to claw my way out. But my leg was pinned, and my stomach felt like it was tearing open. With every movement, my vision went black. I used every ounce of strength I had left to scream: “Help!” “Is anybody there…” The sound was instantly swallowed by the howling wind. The next second, the snow above me shuddered. A massive wall of white crashed down on me. The snow was now up to my chest. Every breath felt like inhaling shattered glass. I didn’t dare scream again, terrified of triggering more snow. I pressed the phone against my cheek and used my numb fingers to dial my mother’s number. As soon as I spoke, the wind muffled my cries. “Mom, please help me.” “I’m at the North Ridge base camp. There was an avalanche.” “The snow is up to my chest. My stomach hurts so much, I’m bleeding…” My parents’ voices finally showed a hint of panic. “What? Maya, are you really buried in the snow?” My dad’s voice grew urgent: “Don’t move! Send us your location!” I clung to their words like a lifeline: “It’s true, Mom, Dad. I’m not lying to you.” “Please call Search and Rescue! Please, hurry…” But the next second, Chloe’s weak voice filtered through the phone. “Mom, Dad, is it Maya?” “It’s all my fault. If it wasn’t for me, Liam wouldn’t have sent her to the mountain to reflect.” She coughed softly, her voice sounding like it could break at any moment. “But isn’t she at the tourist camp? It should be totally safe there…” “She must think I don’t deserve an apology from her…” The moment she said that, my mom’s tone completely shifted. “Maya, how long are you going to keep up this act?” My dad added coldly: “You intentionally locked Chloe outside, making her catch a high fever. She still hasn’t recovered.” “We just wanted you to stay on the mountain for a bit to learn your lesson, and now you pull this stunt?” I shook my head frantically. “I didn’t…” My mom cut me off impatiently: “Enough!” “Ever since you’ve been around, there’s been no peace in this house.” “Chloe has been sick since she was a kid. Why do you always have to target her?” “You’re our biological daughter! Shouldn’t you be the mature one?” At that moment, the pain in my heart was suffocating. To them, my safety was worth less than a single sentence from Chloe. I sobbed, unable to catch my breath. “I’m going to die…” “Mom, I’m really going to die here…” The line went silent. I thought maybe, for just one second, she would feel sorry for me. But Chloe suddenly murmured: “Mom, I’m craving some soup.” My mom panicked immediately. “Okay, okay! Mom will go buy some for you right now.” My dad chimed in: “Just rest, Chloe. Ignore Maya, she’s just incredibly spoiled.” The call ended. I stared blankly at the black screen. So my life was worth less than Chloe’s craving for soup. The snow was packing in tighter. I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I used both hands to frantically dig at the snow in front of me. My fingernails tore, blood mixing with the snow before freezing instantly. I gritted my teeth, tears streaming down my face. “Just hold on…” “I have to hold on…” The wind blew the snow right back, filling the spaces I had just cleared. I was on the edge of utter despair. Finally, trembling, I initiated a video call with my mom. When it connected, the face on the screen was Chloe’s. She looked at my pathetic, buried form, gave a soft little smirk, and then muted her microphone. I could see everything happening there, but they couldn’t hear me. In a private hospital room, my mom was leaning over to drape a cardigan around Chloe’s shoulders. My dad was feeding her chicken soup, gently stroking her hair. Liam stood beside her, adjusting her scarf. I stared at the screen, my heart breaking into pieces. The room was bathed in warm light, with flowers and a cake on the table. My mom held Chloe’s hand, smiling, saying they needed to celebrate her discharge from the hospital. Liam stood next to her, serving her soup and food. Whenever she coughed, he was instantly there with a glass of warm water. That was a tenderness I had never, ever received. I frantically tapped the screen with my bleeding, frostbitten fingers, screaming over and over: “Mom!” “I’m right here!” “Help me!” Just then, my mom frowned and brought my name up: “Maya is becoming absolutely impossible.” “Chloe suffered so much, and she’s still throwing a tantrum.” “To actually lie to us and use her unborn baby like that… it’s sickening.” My dad looked at Chloe lovingly: “Ignore her.” “Let her stay up there and reflect on it for a few more days.” The video call was suddenly ended, and my heart sank to the very bottom of the snow. They were all surrounding Chloe, giving her warmth, favoritism, and love. And I was all alone, buried in a snowy mountain, not even daring to cry out loud. I gritted my teeth and tried to drag my body upward. My chest finally broke free for a second. Freezing air rushed into my lungs, and I broke into a violent coughing fit. But the next second, I lost my balance and fell heavily back down. The phone slipped from my hand, the screen burying itself in the snow. Before my consciousness faded, all I felt was the snow beneath me turning a deeper shade of red. I was at my absolute limit. The snow was packed up to my chest. Every breath felt like swallowing blades. The pain in my abdomen grew sharper, and a massive patch of white snow was stained crimson. I pressed my freezing, stiff hands tightly against my stomach, crying until I almost blacked out. “Don’t be scared, Mommy is going to make Daddy come save us…” My phone was on its last percent of battery. I spam-called Liam on FaceTime. After dozens of attempts, he finally answered. “Liam!” The moment I screamed his name, the snow above me shuddered and fell. I immediately lowered my voice, sobbing and begging him: “Don’t hang up! Please, just don’t hang up.” “I’m not lying to you! I’m dying, I’m bleeding so much…” He looked at me, his brows furrowing. “Maya, what kind of stunt is this now?” “You’re pregnant, and you’re burying yourself in the snow for sympathy? Do you think this is a game?” Warm tears froze on my face. I was shivering violently: “Liam, I’m not…” I quickly turned the camera to show the massive pool of red snow behind me. “Look, I’m bleeding. I’m really not faking it.” “My stomach hurts so much. The baby feels like it’s dropping.” “Even if you don’t believe me, you can’t gamble with our child’s life! This is your flesh and blood too!” His pupils contracted sharply. He went silent. I kept begging, my voice trembling: “Liam, please come save me?” “I won’t fight for anything anymore.” “If Chloe wants Mom and Dad, she can have them.” “If she wants her status in the Davis family, I won’t fight her for it.” “If she wants you…” My voice choked hard, like someone was ripping my heart in two. “I’ll step aside…” “I just beg you to save our baby right now.” When I finished, his pupils shrank further, and his voice laced with panic: “Stop talking like that.” “Maya… don’t be scared. I’m coming right now.” At that moment, tears streamed down my face. He finally believed me. But just then, Chloe’s voice drifted in from the side. “Oh my god… Liam, why is my sister bleeding so much?” “When I was a kid, I saw the maids slaughtering chickens and ducks. The blood looked exactly like that color.” She quickly covered her mouth, hastily adding: “Maya, I’m not saying you’re lying!” “I just think the color and the amount of blood looks so exaggerated. It’s kind of scary…” The hesitation in Liam’s eyes instantly froze over. He looked at me, his eyes full of disappointment: “Maya, you really disappoint me.” “Can you really not stand to see Chloe happy?” In that moment, the tiny spark of hope inside me was violently extinguished. Hatred surged in my chest: “Liam, you are a Search and Rescue Captain!” “You’ve saved so many people! Why won’t you save me?!” “Can’t you just once—just this once—not believe Chloe?!” “If I’m lying to you, you can let me die.” “But what if I’m not?!” “Liam, what if the baby and I really die here?!” The snow above me cascaded down from the force of my screams, but I didn’t care anymore. In that moment, it felt like something was being violently ripped from my soul. I cried so hard my entire body was shaking. His expression wavered slightly, but when he met Chloe’s pitiful gaze, his tone turned icy again. “Maya, behave yourself.” “Stop threatening me with your life.” “You’re not in your right mind right now. I don’t want you hurting Chloe. Once you’ve calmed down, I’ll come pick you up.” He hung up the video call again. I sat there, stunned, completely unable to speak. When I tried to initiate another video call, my phone was dead. Listening to the wind howling in my ears, I sank into absolute despair. I don’t know how long it was, but a massive boom echoed from the mountain in the distance. I had no strength to run. I could only use my last ounce of energy to protect my stomach. “Baby, I’m so sorry…” An overwhelming wave of snow buried me alive. The next second, I suddenly heard footsteps. Chloe’s gentle voice drifted through the wind and snow. “Maya, we’re here.”

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During freshman orientation week, a strange upperclassman acting as a squad leader singled out my best friend to fetch water from the equipment shed. As she left, she winked at me. “Wait here. I’ll sneak you a cold one.” But I waited and waited, and she never came back. When I finally went to check, I saw a crowd gathered outside the shed. My best friend was huddled in a corner, her clothes disheveled, shivering violently. People around were whispering that she was easy, that she tried to seduce the squad leader, that she couldn’t even make it a few days into orientation without throwing herself at a guy. Crying, she went to our academic advisor, but the advisor just told her to shut up: “If this blows up, it’ll ruin your reputation and make the university look bad.” It was only later that I found out the guy wasn’t even an official orientation leader. He was the Vice Chancellor’s son. He used the “orientation volunteer” program as a cover to sneak in and prey on freshmen girls. He threatened my best friend with non-consensual photos. “If you go to the cops, the entire campus will see these.” The rumors broke her. She was forced to drop out. When her parents rushed into town from their farm, their hair turned gray overnight. They ran everywhere with her medical reports and chat logs, begging someone to listen. But three months later, she jumped off the roof of a building. Her mother held her freezing body, crying over and over: “Baby, Mommy’s taking you home. You don’t have to go to school anymore. Please wake up…” I opened my eyes, and I was back on the first day of orientation. The man in the volunteer polo shirt walked over from a distance. His eyes scanned the crowd before landing directly on my best friend. He smiled and pointed. “You. Step out of formation. Go to the equipment shed and help me carry some water.” My best friend paused for a second, then started to step forward. I aggressively grabbed her wrist and yanked her behind me. “No. You’re not going.” Chloe stumbled, caught off guard by the force of my pull. She looked at me, confused. “Maya, what’s wrong?” My fingers were ice-cold, my palms slick with sweat. “You can’t go.” Chloe froze. She knew me better than anyone. She knew I wasn’t the type to start drama for no reason. Jason Thorne’s face immediately darkened. He took a step forward, raising his voice. “What are you two doing?” “First day of orientation and you’re already disobeying orders?” I stood firmly in front of Chloe. “Why does she have to be the one to get the water?” “There are plenty of guys here. Why not ask them?” Jason narrowed his eyes. He clearly didn’t expect a freshman to talk back to him in front of everyone. He let out a cold laugh. “I’m the squad leader. I assign whoever I want.” “Who the hell are you to question me?” I looked him dead in the eye. “Which squad are you assigned to?” Jason’s expression faltered for a split second, but he quickly snapped back into his authoritative persona. “This is orientation, not a police interrogation.” “What’s your name?” I stayed silent. His eyes turned cold. “Not gonna talk, huh?” “Disrespecting a leader and disrupting the drill.” “Step out. Five laps around the track.” Jason then looked at Chloe, his tone turning sinister. “And you.” “I told you to get water, and you’re dragging your feet.” “What, you think you’re a princess?” Chloe’s face paled. She looked up at Jason. “Sir, I can’t go.” A flash of pure annoyance crossed Jason’s eyes. “Excuse me?” Chloe took a deep breath. “I’m not feeling well. I can’t carry heavy things.” “If you really need water, you can ask the guys.” Jason’s face flushed with anger. He forced his voice down, trying to reclaim his dominance. “You two have a lot of nerve.” “One talks back, the other refuses a direct order.” “If you’re pulling this on day one, what are you gonna do next?” He pointed toward the running track. “Maya, right? Five laps. Now.” “Chloe. Come with me to the equipment shed.” I yanked Chloe behind me again. “She’s not going anywhere.” Jason stepped into my personal space, the shadow of his baseball cap making his eyes look terrifyingly dark. “What is your problem?” I didn’t yell, but I spoke loud enough for the front row to hear clearly. “You are not the leader assigned to our group, and you haven’t identified who you actually are.” “It’s the first day of orientation, and a random guy in a staff shirt wants to take a freshman girl alone to an isolated equipment shed.” “Is it really that crazy for me to ask questions?” A loud murmur rippled through the formation. Jason’s face turned white, then purple with rage. Just then, hurried footsteps approached from behind us. Our actual assigned group leader, a senior named Chris, jogged over. Right behind him was our academic advisor, Ms. Miller. Ms. Miller was in her early thirties, wearing an expensive sun hat, her face already twisted in annoyance. As soon as she walked up, she looked at Jason first, then glared at Chloe and me. Her brow furrowed deeply. “What is going on here?” Jason immediately shifted his tone. “Ms. Miller, your freshmen have a serious attitude problem.” “I asked them to help move some water from the shed. Not only did they refuse, but they publicly accused me of being some kind of creep.” Ms. Miller’s expression instantly changed. But she wasn’t worried about us. She was worried that Jason was unhappy. In my last life, I only found out later—Jason wasn’t a standard student volunteer. He was the Vice Chancellor’s son. That was why, when Chloe was assaulted, Ms. Miller’s first reaction wasn’t to call campus security to protect her student. It was to force Chloe to stay quiet. She looked at us, her tone sharp and condescending. “What is wrong with you two? Trying to be special on the first day?” Chloe whispered: “Ms. Miller, he isn’t our assigned leader. I didn’t want to go to the shed alone with him.” Ms. Miller scoffed like she had just heard a hilarious joke. “Is the equipment shed going to eat you?” “It’s just carrying a few bottles of water. You girls are so dramatic.” “You complain it’s too hot, you complain you’re tired, and the second someone asks you to do some lifting, you act like everyone is out to get you.” “What, is every man you see a predator?” Anger boiled in my chest. “Ms. Miller, we simply requested not to go to an isolated location alone with an unidentified male.” Ms. Miller’s face darkened. “Are you talking back to me?” She turned to Chris. “Chris, is this how you run your drills?” Chris frowned slightly. “Ms. Miller, they’re just students. It’s understandable if they feel uncomfortable.” Ms. Miller immediately cut him off. “Uncomfortable about what?” “Jason might not be an official group leader, but he was specifically brought in by the university to assist with orientation.” “What possible reason is there to doubt someone approved by the school?” I looked directly at her. “If he’s not a leader, why is he wearing the staff uniform?” Ms. Miller’s face stiffened for a second before twisting into defensive rage. “Maya, is that how you speak to a staff member?” “College isn’t a place for you to throw tantrums. Didn’t your parents teach you any respect?” Ms. Miller let out a cold laugh. “You girls just love forming these toxic little cliques.” “Blowing a tiny favor entirely out of proportion.” Jason stood off to the side, a smug look in his eyes. He knew Ms. Miller would protect him. It was exactly like my last life. From the equipment shed to the advisor’s office, everyone pressured Chloe to shut her mouth. I clenched my jaw. “I am asking him to show his university ID.” “You don’t have the right to ask for anything,” Ms. Miller snapped. She pointed a rigid finger at Chloe and me. “Let me make this perfectly clear. Chloe is going to get that water.” “If she refuses, both of you will stand in the dead center of the field under the sun.” Chloe’s face drained of color. Ms. Miller glanced at the rest of the group and suddenly changed her mind. “Since you two care so much about solidarity, the whole group can stand with you.” She turned to address all the freshmen. “Because Maya and Chloe refuse to follow instructions, the entire group will stand at attention for one hour.” A wave of groans and complaints immediately erupted from the formation. Ms. Miller looked at me, completely satisfied. “You wanted to be the hero, right?” “I’m giving you two choices.” “Either Chloe goes to the shed, or your entire group suffers because of you.” She punctuated every word. “Your choice.” The moment she finished, the formation exploded. “Are you kidding me? Why do we have to suffer?!” “Just go get the water! What’s the big deal?!” “They’re being so dramatic for nothing.” “Isn’t orientation about following orders? Do they not get that?” “So annoying. Causing drama on day one.” Every word felt like a needle. Chloe grew paler by the second. Since we were kids, her biggest fear was being a burden to others. In my last life, she was the victim, but she was bullied into submission by the glares of her classmates, shamed into apologizing by the rumors, and silenced by the faculty. Ms. Miller crossed her arms, urging coldly, “Make your choice. Everyone is waiting.” Jason stood beside her, the corner of his mouth curving upward. He was waiting for Chloe to cave. I took a step forward. “I choose the punishment.” A chorus of angry groans rose behind me. “Is she insane?” “We have to bake in the sun for an hour because of them?!” “It’s not like he asked her to do anything crazy! Just carry water!” “Girls are so much drama.” I clenched my fists. But before I could speak, Chloe suddenly grabbed my arm. She looked up at Ms. Miller. “Ms. Miller, I’m not going to the shed.” Chloe took a deep breath. “If you need water, you can ask the guys, or you can send a group of us.” “Why does it have to be one girl alone with him?” She pointed directly at Jason. “He’s not our leader. He’s not official staff.” “I refuse to leave the group alone with him.” Jason looked furious. “You two really think you’re the main characters, don’t you?” Ms. Miller was about to explode when Chris suddenly stepped in. “Ms. Miller, making the entire group stand at attention for an hour is excessive.” Chris glanced at us. “If water really needs to be moved, I’ll send a few guys over.” “As for their insubordination, one lap around the track each as a penalty.” Ms. Miller was clearly unhappy. But Chris was officially assigned by the university’s orientation committee; she couldn’t completely overrule him in public without making a scene. She said coldly, “Fine. One lap each.” She glared at Chloe and me. “If I catch you trying to act special again, you’ll be formally written up.” Jason didn’t say another word. He just stared at us, his eyes as cold and venomous as a snake’s. I knew he wasn’t going to let this go. The track was scorching under the sun. Chloe and I jogged side-by-side. Halfway through the lap, she panted and asked, “Maya, what is going on with you?” My throat felt tight. “Chloe, Jason is a creep.” “No matter what he says, no matter who tells you to go, never go anywhere alone with him.” Chloe was quiet for a few seconds. “Do you know something I don’t?” My eyes welled up with tears. I know. I know how desperate and hopeless you were in my last life. I know you cried to the advisor, only to be threatened into silence. I know your parents ran around with your medical reports and chat logs, only to have doors slammed in their faces. I know how freezing the wind was when you jumped off that roof. But I couldn’t say any of that. I just said, “I can’t explain it, but if you go with him, something terrible will happen.” Chloe looked at me and nodded seriously. “Okay. I trust you.” During the afternoon drills, Jason showed up again. He claimed he was “inspecting orientation discipline,” but his eyes constantly lingered on the girls. I kept my eyes glued to him, and Chloe was visibly tense. Chris was at the front of the formation, correcting the guys’ posture. Jason circled around to the back of our row. The next second, Chloe let out a sharp shriek and violently dodged forward. Chris turned around immediately. “What happened?” Chloe’s face was chalk-white. She covered her backside, her voice shaking. “He touched my butt!” The blood rushed straight to my head. Jason immediately frowned, playing the victim. “I was just walking behind you and accidentally brushed against you.” Chloe’s eyes were red with fury. “You did it on purpose!” Jason scoffed. “Where’s your proof?” “There are fifty people standing here. I’m inspecting the line. It’s totally normal if my arm brushed against you.” He turned to Chris. “Chris, your group has zero discipline.” “Screaming and causing a scene during drills? Students like this need to be penalized.” I couldn’t hold it back. “You deliberately grabbed her! I saw it!” Jason’s face darkened. “You saw it?” I gritted my teeth. I had only turned my head in time to see Chloe dodging in terror. I hadn’t actually seen his hand. Jason seized on that immediately. “If you didn’t see it, keep your mouth shut. You’re slandering me.” “Do girls just assume that if they cry and scream, everyone is required to believe them?” Ms. Miller materialized out of nowhere again. She looked at Chloe with pure disgust. “Chloe, can you stop being so overly sensitive?” “The formation is packed. So what if someone bumps into you?” “Screaming like that in front of everyone—how is he supposed to defend his reputation?” A tear rolled down Chloe’s cheek. “Ms. Miller, he really—” “Enough.” Ms. Miller cut her off instantly. “Young women need to learn how to conduct themselves respectfully. Stop interpreting every little thing as an assault.” “If rumors start spreading, do you really think that’s good for your own reputation?” I was shaking with rage. “She is the one being harassed! Why are you blaming her?!” Ms. Miller glared at me. “Maya, haven’t you caused enough trouble for one day?” Jason chimed in, his tone slow and deliberate: “Ms. Miller, I highly suggest penalizing them with extra attention drills. They really need to learn some discipline.” Chris frowned deeply. “It’s over ninety degrees. They might not be able to handle it physically.” Ms. Miller snapped: “Everyone else can handle it. Why can’t they?” “Chloe disrupted the drill, and Maya disrespected faculty.” “The rest of the group gets a water break. You two will stand at attention for thirty minutes.” Eventually, the entire class was marched to the shade under the trees. Chloe and I were left standing under the blazing sun. Chloe’s lips lost all their color. Ten minutes later, her body swayed. I quickly reached out to catch her. “Chloe!” Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. I dropped to the ground, holding her up. “Chris! She fainted!” Chris sprinted over immediately. “Get her to the infirmary!” Two other girls rushed over to help carry Chloe. I was about to follow them when Ms. Miller blocked my path. “Where do you think you’re going? Your penalty isn’t over. You have ten minutes left.” I stared at her in absolute disbelief. “She fainted!” “The school nurse is at the infirmary.” Ms. Miller checked her watch. “Maya, you will finish your penalty time.” Jason was standing nearby, raising an eyebrow at me with a smug smirk. I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood. Ten minutes. I had never felt ten minutes last so agonizingly long. The second the time was up, I sprinted off the field. The infirmary was on the first floor of a small building behind the track. As I ran toward the entrance, a terrified, cracking scream echoed from inside. “Help!” My brain exploded. I lunged for the door, but a hand shot out from behind me, clamping brutally over my mouth. I fought wildly. The person holding me was a guy. He was wearing a student council vest and was massive. Two other guys blocked the door to the infirmary. One of them hissed a warning at me: “Shut up.” “Jason is taking care of business. Keep your nose out of it.” Jason. This wasn’t a crime of opportunity. I stomped my heel backward as hard as I could into the guy’s foot. He grunted in pain and his grip loosened for a split second. I broke free and screamed at the top of my lungs, “Help! Someone’s being attacked in the infirmary!” I yanked my phone out of my pocket to dial 911. But the moment the screen lit up, someone snatched it from my hand. The next second. SMASH! My phone was violently hurled onto the concrete floor. I spun around and screamed down the corridor: “Help!” “Call the police!” “Jason Thorne is assaulting Chloe inside!” A few classmates who had followed me from the field were standing further down the hall. They had just come to see what the commotion was. Hearing my screams, they finally realized something was horribly wrong. The shouting in the hallway grew louder. Taking advantage of the distraction, I threw my entire body weight through the gap between the guys and slammed the infirmary door open. The sight inside made my blood run cold. Chloe was pinned against the edge of the examination bed, her uniform torn open, her face drenched in tears. Jason had one hand pinning her shoulder down while his other hand tore at her collar. Chloe was fighting with everything she had, her voice raw and hoarse. “Get off me!” “Help!” The last thread of my sanity snapped. There was a heavy stainless steel medical tray on the table next to me. I grabbed it, charged forward, and swung it with every ounce of strength I possessed directly into Jason’s back. CRACK! Jason groaned in pain and whipped around. I grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and threw it at him. “Let her go!” Chloe seized the opportunity to scramble backward into the corner of the bed. Jason raised his arm to block the bottle, but it clipped his temple. Blood immediately started dripping down his eyebrow. He stared at me, his eyes burning with a murderous, animalistic rage. “You again.” “Maya, do you have a fucking death wish?” The guys from the hallway burst into the room. They blocked the door, looking panicked. “Jason, people are coming.” But Jason was completely unhinged. He knocked the tray out of my hand and grabbed me violently by the shoulders. “You’ve been ruining my plans since this morning. You think you’re better than her?” I kicked and thrashed. He slapped me hard across the face. My ears rang. I crashed onto the floor. Jason crouched down, grabbing me by the collar, spewing vile, venomous insults. “You love playing the hero, right?” “You love screaming?” “Then I guess you can take her place.” Fear clawed its way up from my stomach. But my rage was stronger. I grabbed his wrist with both hands, my nails digging in. “Jason.” “You’re going to prison.” His face twisted into a sick grin. “Only if someone actually believes you.” He reached out and grabbed the collar of my uniform. I fought back frantically, but his weight was crushing the breath out of me. The guys by the door started panicking. “Jason, let’s go.” “There’s a crowd gathering outside.” Jason roared: “Shut up!” Right at that moment, Chloe, who was still huddled on the bed, suddenly stood up. Her face was ghostly pale, but her eyes were terrifyingly fierce. She grabbed the heavy metal IV pole next to the bed and swung it down on the back of Jason’s head with everything she had. Jason let out a blood-curdling scream and slumped sideways. I rolled out from under him instantly. Chloe lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of his hair, and dragged him backward. “Don’t you ever touch her again!” Her voice was trembling, but her grip didn’t loosen for a second. Jason cursed in agony and swung his arm blindly, trying to hit her. I grabbed the metal tray from the floor and smashed it onto his wrist. “Don’t touch her!” Seeing Jason taking a beating, the guys at the door rushed in. One grabbed Chloe, one shoved me, and the third tried to pull Jason up. “Stop hitting him!” “Jason, are you okay?” They claimed they were breaking up a fight, but they were only throwing punches at Chloe and me. Chloe stumbled as they shoved her. I threw my arms around her to protect her. “Don’t touch her!” The crowd of students outside finally pushed their way to the door. Seeing the absolute carnage inside, the color drained from their faces. “Oh my god…” “What happened here?” “Get a teacher!” The school nurse finally ran over from her office next door. She saw the overturned bed, shattered medical supplies covering the floor, Chloe’s torn uniform, the bright red handprint on my face, and Jason bleeding from his forehead. She was completely stunned. “What are you doing?!” A few seconds later, Ms. Miller arrived. The moment she walked in, her eyes locked onto Jason. “Jason! Are you okay?” I let out a bitter, furious laugh. Chloe leaned against me, trembling violently. Jason covered his bleeding forehead and immediately flipped the script, playing the victim. “Ms. Miller, they’ve completely lost their minds.” “I saw Chloe faint, so I was just trying to help her to the infirmary.” “Then Maya burst in and started bashing me with metal trays.” The guys by the door instantly backed him up. “Yeah! We saw the whole thing!” “Maya attacked him first.” “Chloe hit him too.” “Jason didn’t even do anything!” Chloe looked up at them. Her eyes were bloodshot. “Are you even human?” Ms. Miller’s face darkened. “Chloe, watch your tone.” I had reached my absolute limit. “Can’t you see what he did to her?!” “He almost raped her!” Ms. Miller immediately cut me off with a sharp shout: “Maya!” “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?!” “You can’t just throw accusations like that around!” “You two attacked university staff and are now making malicious, defamatory claims.” “I am reporting this to the Dean immediately.” I stared at her. “You’re going to discipline us?” Ms. Miller said coldly, “First, you will write a formal confession. Then we will determine the severity of your actions.” “If this damages the university’s reputation, expulsion isn’t off the table.” Chloe suddenly let out a laugh. It was a very soft laugh, but it was so cold it sent shivers down my spine. Ms. Miller frowned. “What’s so funny?” Chloe looked up. There were still tear tracks on her cheeks, but her voice was steadier than it had ever been. “Ms. Miller, I called the police.” The air in the room instantly froze. Ms. Miller’s face finally changed. “What did you just say?” Chloe reached into the inner pocket of her camouflage jacket and pulled out a tiny digital voice recorder. “After Maya stopped me this morning, I knew something was wrong.” “I do interviews for the journalism club, so I always keep a recorder in my bag.” “Before I was forced to stand in the sun, I turned it on and put it in my pocket.” Jason’s face completely dropped. Chloe continued: “From the moment he harassed me on the field, to when I fainted.” “To exactly what he did to me inside this room.” “And everything he just said—how he threatened us, how he insulted Maya.” “It’s all recorded.” Dead silence filled the doorway. Jason shouted, “Give me that!” He lunged for the recorder. Chloe immediately stepped back. I threw myself in front of her. The school nurse finally snapped out of her shock and grabbed Jason. “Don’t move!” Jason roared, “Do you have any idea who I am?!” Ms. Miller panicked. “Jason, calm down.” Chloe looked directly at her. “Ms. Miller, when I was dragged into this room and realized what was happening, I managed to dial 911 on my phone.” “I couldn’t speak, but the line was open, and the dispatcher heard everything.” “Later, when Maya was screaming for help outside, some of the other students called the cops too.” She looked toward the door at a girl who had followed us from the track. The girl looked terrified, but she nodded. The color drained from Ms. Miller’s face, inch by inch. In the distance, the wail of police sirens grew louder. Jason finally panicked. He looked at the guys by the door. “What are you standing there for?! Let’s go!” But it was too late. Heavy, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. “Who called 911?”

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The day my dad was admitted to the hospital, my fiancé gave the cot I had reserved for myself to his childhood best friend. A text notification popped up on my phone confirming the refund for the cot rental just as I was in the hallway buying oatmeal for my dad. The nurse said: “Only one overnight guest is allowed per patient. Mr. Sterling just changed the name on the reservation.” I rushed back to the room. Liam Sterling was making the bed for his childhood friend, Chloe. She looked up, her eyes red. “Maya, I’m just so scared to stay overnight by myself. Liam is only staying with me for one night.” Liam pulled me out into the hallway, keeping his voice low. “Your dad is just under observation. Her mom just finished a round of chemo. Be mature about this.” I stared at the grain of rice stuck to his cuff. It reminded me that just last night, he had told me he was working late at the office. But I saw half a dinner table in the corner of one of his Instagram stories. On the table was Chloe’s favorite crab pasta, and a plate of shrimp that he had painstakingly peeled for her. My dad woke up and asked me: “Where’s Liam? Didn’t he say he was staying with you tonight?” I set the oatmeal down. “He had something to do.” My dad didn’t push. He just slid his uncomfortable folding chair a little closer to me. Deep into the night, the hallway lights flickered on and off. I sat in the chair, deleting the entire guest list for our wedding from my phone, scrolling down to the very last page. Liam came back early the next morning holding a hot coffee. “Stop giving me that cold shoulder. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” I took the coffee and set it on the windowsill. A text notification popped up right then. Cancellation of Marriage License Appointment Successful. I placed my phone face down. “Don’t bother.” … Liam froze, his eyes landing on my phone. “What is that supposed to mean?” “Exactly what it sounds like.” I took the engagement ring off my finger and shoved it into his hand. Liam’s face darkened. “Maya, your dad is literally in a hospital bed right now. Is this really the time to throw a tantrum?” “I’m not throwing a tantrum.” The calmer I was, the more agitated he became. He shoved the ring back into my coat pocket, shutting the conversation down just like he always did when we argued. “You’re just tired. We’ll talk about this after your dad is discharged.” For the past seven years, he always did this. Whenever he said “wait,” I actually waited. I waited for him to finish work. I waited for Chloe to emotionally stabilize. I waited for his so-called “right time.” But those things that were pushed aside? They were never actually made up to me. Not once. My dad’s coughing echoed from the room. When I pushed the door open, he was already awake, struggling to sit up. Liam was faster. He rushed over to support him, his voice gentle. “Don’t move, sir. Maya is just worried about you, her temper is flaring up.” My dad looked at him, then at me. “Did you two fight?” “No.” I tucked the blankets around my dad. “I canceled the wedding.” Liam’s hand froze in mid-air. My dad was silent for a long time. Finally, he asked: “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” He nodded, not trying to talk me out of it. Liam, however, scoffed coldly. “Sir, she’s just talking out of anger. Why are you enabling her?” My dad leaned back against his pillows. “If my daughter says there’s no wedding, then there’s no wedding.” Suddenly, a voice called out for Liam from down the hall. Chloe ran over holding a thermos, her eyes swollen from crying. “Liam, my mom is getting the chills again. The nurse said it might be a reaction to the medication, and I don’t know what to do.” Liam spun around instantly. “I’ll go check.” He took two steps, then turned back to me. “Drink your coffee while it’s hot. And stop using the wedding as a threat. I don’t have the energy to coax you again.” He disappeared around the corner. I pulled the ring out of my pocket and dropped it into a plastic bag filled with medication. This time, I didn’t have the energy to wait for him to turn around either. The next morning, the wedding planner called. “Ms. Davis, the venue, officiant, and photographer have all been confirmed as canceled. We can only refund 30% of your deposit. Are you sure you want to proceed?” “I’m sure.” “Do you need us to notify Mr. Sterling again?” “No need. He’ll find out soon enough.” After hanging up, I went to the nurses’ station to get my dad’s new test results. The attending cardiologist pointed at a shadow on the scans, his expression grave. “The coronary blockage is worse than we anticipated. He needs bypass surgery within 48 hours. You should prepare around $40,000 for the procedure.” I opened my mobile banking app. My dad saw my fingers trembling. “If we don’t have the money, we won’t do it. I don’t want to go through all that.” I forced a smile and told him we had enough. The truth was, that account held my entire life savings from selling my late mother’s house. Liam had sworn up and down that we wouldn’t touch a dime of it for the wedding or the house renovations. He said we would plan our finances together after we were married. But the account, which was supposed to hold $40,000, now only had $2,700. At 11:46 PM last night, there was a wire transfer of $37,300. The recipient was Chloe. The memo read: To save your mom. I stared at that line for a long time. It was my account. But on the day we got engaged, Liam had set the password. He said since we were going to be husband and wife, we shouldn’t keep secrets. I called him. He finally picked up on the third ring. In the background, I could hear Chloe’s muffled sobbing. “Make it quick, I’m busy.” “When are you transferring the $37,000 back?” He went silent. “Chloe’s mom needed a deposit for imported chemo drugs this morning. I transferred it to her last night. I just need to borrow it for a few days. As soon as her insurance reimburses her, she’ll pay you back.” “That’s the money for my dad’s surgery.” “Your dad was just under observation yesterday.” “Now he needs a bypass.” The line went dead quiet. I thought maybe, just maybe, he would ask how my dad was doing. But instead, he said: “Maya, the hospital can set up a payment plan, or you can ask your relatives for a loan. If Chloe’s mom misses a single day of her medication, it could ruin her entire treatment cycle.” “So my dad can wait?” “That’s not what I meant.” His voice dropped defensively. “Chloe and I grew up together. Her mom is basically family. We’re all going to be a family soon, why does it matter whose parent it is?” I laughed. So that was what family meant to him. It meant my money could be taken, and my family could be pushed to the back of the line. I remembered our engagement dinner, when he stood in front of all our friends and family and swore he would treat my dad like his own flesh and blood. Everyone clapped. I cried. Now, those words had a completely different meaning. When it was time to pay, we were family. But when it was time to choose whose life to save, my dad would never be first. “Have that money back in my account by noon.” “Don’t push me.” “Then you can talk to my lawyer.” I hung up, immediately froze the bank account, and printed the transaction history. My dad had been a carpenter his whole life. His biggest fear was being a burden. He pulled the IV out of his hand, insisting on going home. “At my age, having surgery or not makes no difference. You need that money for your future.” I held his hand tightly. “My future doesn’t depend on a wedding.” After leaving the hospital room, I called my college mentor, Professor Evans. Three years ago, I had designed an entire digital exhibition concept for ancient architecture. Just as the project was shortlisted, Liam decided to start his own company. He said we couldn’t both be buried in work, someone had to take care of the house. So, I locked my designs in my computer and resigned from my job at the museum. When the call connected and I explained my situation, Professor Evans only asked one question: “Do you still hold the copyright for the Echoes of Empire design?” “I do.” “The National Museum has been wanting to revive it. If you’re willing to come back as the lead designer, I can request an advance on the project funding.” An hour later, an electronic contract was sent to my inbox. I signed it. At 4:00 PM, a $40,000 advance hit my account. My dad’s surgery was scheduled for the next morning. Just as I finished paying the hospital deposit, Liam showed up at the billing window with Chloe. He pulled me aside. “Do you really have to be this ruthless?” Chloe’s eyes were red, her voice small and pathetic. “Maya, that money was really to save my mom’s life. I promise I’ll pay you back.” I held my hand out to her. “Give me the hospital receipt.” Her face changed, and she instinctively moved her purse behind her back. It was a subtle movement. Liam didn’t see it, but I caught it perfectly. Liam stepped between us, shielding her. “What is this, an interrogation?” I didn’t press it. When I got back to the room, a notification popped up on my laptop. Suspicious login detected from an unrecognized location. At 2:13 AM, someone had logged into my cloud drive. The device name was Liam’s MacBook. The downloaded files were the complete design blueprints for Echoes of Empire. Before they wheeled my dad into the operating room, he squeezed my hand and asked: “Is Liam coming?” Before I could answer, a text from Liam popped up. [Chloe’s mom’s white blood cell count dropped dangerously low. Chloe is having a breakdown. I’ll come over later.] I locked my phone. “He’s not coming.” My dad was silent for a moment before saying: “Then don’t be afraid.” After the OR doors closed, I sat alone in the waiting area for six hours. Every time the lights above the door flickered, I instinctively stood up. But it was always a doctor for someone else’s family. My palms were drenched in cold sweat. I was too terrified to even drink water, afraid I’d miss the doctor calling my name. I always thought the hardest thing in life was waiting for someone you loved to turn around and come back to you. But that day, I realized that when you’re waiting for something that truly matters, you don’t even have the energy to think about a man who left you behind. When Professor Evans arrived, he handed me a cup of hot water. “You need to look at this.” He handed me a tablet. On the screen was the design pitch submitted by Azure Media to the National Museum. The sweeping landscape scrolls, the interactive pathways, the seasonal projections—even the two technical parameters I had intentionally miscalculated were identical. The CEO of Azure Media was Chloe. I dialed Liam’s number. “Did you give her my designs?” He paused. “Chloe just started her own studio. She wants to break into the cultural sector. I only sent her a few mockups as a reference.” “She submitted them for a bid.” “Impossible. She knows where the line is.” I sent him the side-by-side comparison. Minutes passed before he replied: “Since the project hasn’t officially launched, letting her use it for a bit is no big deal. You have experience, you can always design something better later.” I gripped the paper cup, my knuckles turning white. “That was four years of my life.” “Maya, stop blowing everything out of proportion and acting like it’s a massive betrayal.” His voice was dripping with impatience. “Chloe grew up without a father. She’s just trying to prove herself. Just consider this doing her a favor.” “Did you ask me?” “Do we really need to ask permission for everything?” “Yes. We do.” I hit the record button on my phone. “From this second forward, you do not have permission to touch a single thing that belongs to me.” That afternoon, my dad’s surgery was a success. Before the anesthesia even wore off, he mumbled my childhood nickname. I rested my head against his bed and finally cried. Not because Liam didn’t show up. But because I realized that over the past seven years, he had made far too many choices on my behalf. When Chloe was scared of thunderstorms, he canceled our anniversary trip. When she started her business and needed clients, he forwarded her the contact list I had spent years building. When she said she didn’t like the wedding dress I picked, he pressured me to change it to something more “understated.” And every time I got upset, I got the exact same response: She grew up without a dad. Be the bigger person. I used to think love meant endless compromise. I mistook swallowing my own pain for being understanding. I contacted the legal department at the museum and submitted my original source files, the timestamps, and the login logs. That very night, Azure Media received an official cease-and-desist regarding their bid. When Liam stormed into my dad’s hospital room, he looked furious. “Why didn’t you talk to me first?” I calmly adjusted the drip rate on my dad’s IV. “Did you talk to me when you gave her my designs?” “Her mother is still going through chemo! If you sue her now, are you trying to kill them both?” In that moment, everything became crystal clear. This man wouldn’t just fail to protect me from the storm. He would personally drag the storm directly to the people I loved most. “Whoever infringes on my copyright gets sued.” “Including you.” He froze. I handed him the legal notice. The last line was perfectly clear. Liam Sterling is named as a co-defendant for the unauthorized distribution of proprietary commercial files.

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A week before we were supposed to get our marriage license, my fiancé asked me to book eight train tickets to the coast. He said it would be his last trip as a bachelor, and he wanted all our closest friends and family to come along. I spent three days constantly refreshing the app, and finally managed to snag eight seats together. But right after I paid, a notification popped up. It was a poll from a group chat called “No Maya Allowed.” The question was: Should Maya come on the trip? Seven votes against. One abstention. Zero votes in favor. The people voting were my fiancé, my older sister, his childhood best friend, and the younger cousin I practically raised. I asked Julian if he was the one who abstained. He rubbed his temples. “Yeah. I didn’t vote against you. I think I’m already being considerate enough.” “Everyone’s worried that if you come, you’ll try to control everything and ruin the vibe. Just consider this my pre-wedding space. Is that too much to ask?” I asked, “Then why did you ask me to book eight tickets?” His answer was incredibly natural. “You’re good at snagging tickets. We can use the eighth seat for extra luggage, and I’ll Venmo you the money later.” My older sister, Sarah, chimed in to pacify me. “You’re about to be family. Don’t ruin your engagement over a few train tickets.” I looked down at my screen, at the eight consecutive seats. So, I had spent three days stressing out, not to plan a trip for us. I was just securing them a vacation where I explicitly wasn’t invited. The app reminded me that I had ten minutes left to cancel the booking for a full refund. But in that moment, I didn’t care about the refund. I cared that the man I was preparing to marry, when everyone else was shutting me out, couldn’t even bring himself to cast a single vote in my favor. … When the cancellation countdown hit nine minutes, Julian snatched my phone away. “Don’t do something stupid. Those tickets are impossible to get.” He quickly checked the order, confirming all eight seats were still there, and his shoulders visibly relaxed. I looked at him. “You’re afraid I’ll cancel them?” “You’re just mad right now. You’ll regret it once you cool down.” “Regret what?” “Regret ruining everyone’s vacation.” With that, he closed the cancellation page right in front of me. My sister Sarah sat at the dining table, peeling an orange. “Julian is going to be with you every single day once you’re married. It’s just three days. Don’t be so suffocating.” “I never said he couldn’t go.” “Then why the attitude?” The orange peel snapped between her fingers. She frowned, wearing the exact same expression she always used when she thought I was being immature. “Maya, you always do this. You blow tiny things out of proportion until everyone is uncomfortable.” Julian placed my phone back in my hand and sent me $400 via Venmo. The tickets cost $376. For the extra twenty-four dollars, he added a note: Don’t be mad. Buy yourself something nice. I sent it back. He let out a low chuckle. “Here we go again.” “What do you mean, ‘here we go again’?” “First you say no, then you wait for me to coax you. Maya, I know your whole routine.” He said it softly, even reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture was so familiar that my body reacted before my brain did, leaning away to dodge his hand. He paused for two seconds. “Fine. Take a minute. Don’t forget, we have to go try on our outfits for City Hall tonight.” My sister checked her watch and grabbed her purse. “I’m taking off too. Oh, and by the way, the temperature drops at the beach at night. Let Chloe borrow that windbreaker you gave me. Her skin is really sensitive.” I looked up. “You’re not going?” “I couldn’t get the time off work. I’m the one who abstained.” She said it with complete conviction. “I didn’t vote against you. I’m taking your side, aren’t I?” So even the abstention wasn’t Julian’s. I looked at him. Julian fell silent for a moment, a flicker of irritation crossing his brow. “Does it really matter who voted how? The result is the same.” “Then why did you lie and say it was you?” “I knew you’d interrogate me, so I just said yes to shut it down.” He walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and peeked his head back out. “What do you want for dinner? I’ll make a reservation.” It was as if that humiliating poll had never happened. I didn’t answer. I walked into the bedroom. Hidden deep in my closet was an old tin box. Inside were the train tickets Julian had left behind seven years ago, when he used to take the train from the next state over to visit me. We were long-distance back then. Every time he visited, he would mail his return ticket back to me. The last time, he didn’t mail it. He pressed the ticket into my hand and said, “You won’t have to wait for envelopes anymore. I’m moving here to be with you.” On the back of that ticket, he had written two words. Coming Home. I traced the faded ink, then slipped the ticket into an empty envelope. My phone buzzed. It was a text from my Editor-in-Chief. “We still need a regional director for the Austin office. You said no before because you were getting married, but the position is still open. I need your answer by tonight.” Three months ago, I had turned it down for Julian. In the living room, he was texting the itinerary to everyone going on the trip. Not a single person had texted to ask why I wasn’t going. I opened the reply box and typed a single word. “Yes.” Just as the message sent, Julian pushed the door open. He glanced at the envelope in my hand and smirked. “Looking at old tickets to make yourself feel better again? I’ll take you out for sushi tonight, that should be enough.” I shoved the envelope into the drawer. He didn’t know that this time, that ticket marked Coming Home was going to be mailed back to him. That evening at the boutique, Julian was forty minutes late. The associate had already steamed his white button-down twice. When he finally arrived, Chloe—his childhood best friend, and the only woman going on the trip—was right behind him. “I ran into Chloe on the way. She wanted to do some shopping, so I brought her along.” Julian took the water the associate offered. “You don’t mind, right?” Before I could answer, Chloe laughed. “If Maya minds, I’ll leave right now. I don’t want anyone saying I don’t know my boundaries.” She said she would leave, but she immediately sat down on the velvet sofa. Julian frowned. “Ignore her. She’s just in a mood because of the poll today.” The associate walked over holding two shirts: one cream-white, one light blue. “Sir, your fiancée originally selected the white one for you. This blue one is the one this lady just picked from the window display. Which one would you like to try?” “The blue one.” Julian reached for it. “Chloe always has a good eye for this stuff.” The associate glanced at me awkwardly. I had come in three days ago to get his measurements and pick the style. Julian had found it too tedious to even look at the photos I sent him. When he walked out of the fitting room, Chloe walked right up to him and adjusted his collar. “This color makes you look younger. Your marriage license photos won’t look so stiff and boring.” Julian checked himself in the mirror. “It definitely looks better than the white one.” “So, we’ll go with this one?” “Yeah.” I spoke up. “This is what we’re wearing to get married.” Chloe pulled her hands back. “Sorry, I forgot you were standing right there.” The entire boutique went dead silent. Julian looked at me, a warning edge to his voice. “Chloe was just trying to help. Don’t twist her words.” “I didn’t say anything.” “It’s written all over your face.” He walked over and gently pressed his thumb against the crease between my eyebrows. “We’re getting married in a few days. Stop making everyone walk on eggshells around your moods.” I pushed his hand away. “Let’s postpone getting the license.” Chloe froze. But Julian just laughed, as if I had said exactly what he expected. “Fine. Postponed.” He didn’t even ask why. “How long do you want to push it? Until after the trip, or until you’re done being mad?” “I’m not throwing a tantrum.” “Right, you’re not throwing a tantrum.” He agreed with my words, but his tone dripped with condescension. The associate hesitantly asked if we still wanted the shirts. Julian pulled out his credit card. “Ring them both up.” “Even the white one?” “Yes. She likes it.” He said it so casually, as if buying the shirt I had picked was some grand gesture of consideration. After paying, Chloe stepped outside to take a phone call. She spoke for a moment, then covered the receiver. “Julian, they’re asking how we’re doing the room assignments.” “Didn’t we book four double rooms?” “The hotel says the plumbing broke in one of the doubles. They only have three doubles and one king room left. The king is a master oceanfront suite.” Chloe looked at me, half-joking. “Since we have an extra train seat for luggage, and now we have an extra bed… does Maya want to come? But she’d have to share the suite with Julian.” Before Julian could answer, the voices on the phone started groaning. “Please no. If she comes, she’ll give us a curfew for drinking.” “Let Chloe have the suite. She’s been depressed lately.” “Who is Julian bunking with?” Chloe turned the speakerphone down, but not all the way. I heard my cousin, Lily, say, “Who else? It’s a choice between the fiancée and the best friend.” Everyone turned to look at Julian. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Chloe gets the suite. I’ll squeeze into a double with Mark.” “What about Maya?” Chloe asked. “She wasn’t coming anyway.” He answered way too fast. The paper bag in my hand holding the white shirt suddenly felt lighter. The bottom of the bag hadn’t been glued properly. The shirt I had spent three days choosing fell to the floor, and someone walking past immediately stepped on it, leaving a dusty footprint. Julian bent down to pick it up. But as he did, a hotel confirmation slip fell out of his pocket. The notes section read: [Anniversary Arrangement. Ms. Chloe prefers white roses.] Julian quickly explained that it was a “divorce celebration” for Chloe. “It took a lot for her to get out of that marriage. We just wanted to cheer her up. It’s not what you think.” He wiped the footprint off the white shirt with a wet wipe, his tone patient. “Plus, she paid for the suite upgrade herself. I was just worried the front desk wouldn’t treat her right, so I used my platinum account to book it for her and added the note.” I asked, “You remember that she likes white roses. Do you remember what flowers I explicitly said I didn’t want for our wedding?” His hand stopped. “Don’t you just hate flowers in general?” I didn’t ask anything else. For my birthday last year, he bought me a massive bouquet of stargazers. I’m severely allergic. I coughed the entire night. He sat by my bed, getting me water, promising he would remember next time. It turns out, he only remembers the people who need to be taken care of. And that wasn’t me. The next day, corporate officially sent my transfer orders for Austin. I was to start at the end of the month. I didn’t tell anyone. I had paid the deposits for the wedding venue and the planners. I had the entire event binder in my desk. I systematically checked the refund deadlines for every vendor, and then called a real estate agent to schedule an appraisal for our condo. That afternoon, Julian’s mother called me. “Maya, Julian tells me you want to delay getting the license again?” “Yes.” “Julian thinks you’re just trying to scare him because you’re mad he’s going on a trip without you. I know you love him, honey, but you can’t suffocate a man.” She laughed softly, offering her advice. “Learn to be a good girl. Once you’re married, you need to make sure he looks good in front of his friends.” “He thinks I’m trying to scare him?” “Doesn’t he know you best? Every time you threaten to break up, aren’t you just waiting for him to sweet-talk you?” I held the phone, completely silent. In the past seven years, I had only ever brought up breaking up twice. The first time was when he co-signed a loan for a friend and ended up $30,000 in debt. I sold the gold bracelet my mother left me to cover the shortfall. He wrote me an IOU, swore he would pay me back double after we were married, and held me, promising he would never prioritize his friends over us again. The second time was at our engagement party. He abandoned me to deal with both of our families alone because he had to go pick up a drunken Chloe. He stood outside my apartment building in the freezing rain all night, and I eventually caved. It turns out, to him, those weren’t moments of profound disappointment. They were just manipulative tactics I used to get him to coddle me. That evening, the entire travel group came over for dinner to “finalize the itinerary.” As soon as I set the food on the table, Mark laughed. “Maya, can you pack Liam’s allergy meds for him? His pollen allergies always act up at the beach.” My cousin Lily chimed in. “And his chargers and motion sickness patches. Honestly, Maya, you complain a lot, but you’re definitely the most organized.” I looked at the table full of people who had actively voted to exclude me. They didn’t want me there, but not a single one of them hesitated to demand the things I provided. Chloe handed me a piece of paper. “Here’s everyone’s ID numbers. When the return tickets go on sale, can you help us grab them? You’re faster at it.” “I’m busy.” Her smile stiffened. “It only takes a few minutes.” Julian served me a bowl of soup. “She’s been swamped at work. I’ll buy them.” Mark waved him off immediately. “You’ll never get them. Last time, Maya had to stay up until midnight refreshing the page to get them.” “Then we’ll figure it out when the time comes.” Julian pushed the soup bowl closer to my hand and whispered, “Eat first. Don’t embarrass everyone.” I didn’t touch the soup. After dinner, they sat in the living room playing a drinking game. Someone asked Julian, “Honestly, are you still going to hang out with us after you’re married?” “Of course.” “What if Maya won’t let you?” Julian glanced toward me. “I’ll just say I’m working late. Isn’t that how I’ve always done it?” Laughter erupted across the room. I stood in the doorway of the home office, holding a crumpled piece of paper I found near the shredder. It was in Julian’s handwriting. Chloe is depressed—If Maya asks, tell her it’s a massive group trip. Drinking, staying out late, the master suite—Tell everyone to blame it on Maya being too strict, make sure she doesn’t find out. At the very bottom, there was a sentence torn in half. If we postpone getting the license, it’s perfect… The rest of the sentence was missing. I walked over and asked Julian what it was perfect for. He was packing his suitcase, not even looking up. “What?” I dropped the torn paper in front of him. He glanced at it, then casually tossed it into the trash can. “Mark was just writing down stupid punishments for the drinking game. You actually took that seriously?” “That’s your handwriting.” “I was mocking him.” “Julian, whenever you lie, your right hand touches your watch strap.” His hand was currently resting directly on his watch. The room went dead silent for two seconds. He dropped his hand and finally looked at me. “Maya, do you really have to interrogate every single little thing right now?” “I just want an answer.” “The answer is that I love you, and I’m going to marry you. But I can’t just abandon all my friends because I’m getting married.” He said it with absolute confidence. Like he was giving me a reassurance, but also a warning not to push my luck. The night before they left, our families had dinner at a restaurant. Julian framed it as a pre-wedding dinner, a chance to officially pick a new date for City Hall. During the meal, Mark brought up the poll again. “Maya, seriously, don’t take it personally. We don’t hate you, we just feel like we have to walk on eggshells when you’re around.” Lily put a piece of fish on my plate. “Maya, you’ve always been a control freak. Just learn to relax, complain less, and everyone will love having you around.” My sister Sarah nodded in agreement. “See? They’re giving you an out.” I put down my chopsticks. “Then let’s vote again.” The table went completely silent. I looked at Julian. “Not anonymous. Right here, in front of me. You choose.” “Choose what?” “Tomorrow, it’s either me or Chloe. Only one of us goes.” Chloe spoke up immediately. “Maya, don’t force him. I don’t have to go.” She offered to stay, but her hand was still resting firmly on the handle of her suitcase. Julian’s face darkened. “The itinerary for seven people is already locked in. If you jump in now, I have to completely rebook the tickets and the hotel.” “I have a ticket. The eighth one.” “That seat is for luggage.” “Luggage can be checked.” “You’ll make everyone uncomfortable.” “So you still won’t choose me.” Julian reached out and grabbed my wrist. Not hard, but firm enough that I couldn’t pull away. “Don’t make a scene in front of our parents. If you really want to go, I’ll take you on a solo trip next time.” “I am asking you about this time.” He stared at me, the very last shred of his patience vanishing. “Fine. I choose Chloe.” The people around us froze. Julian still didn’t let go of my wrist. “She’s in a terrible headspace right now. This entire trip was planned to help her feel better. You and I have the rest of our lives. You don’t need these three days.” I looked at the watch on his wrist. It was the watch he bought with his first big bonus, right after I sold my mother’s gold bracelet to pay off his debt. He told me he would wear it forever, so he would never forget who stayed by his side when he was at rock bottom. Now, that watch was pressing down against my pulse. I asked, “On that piece of paper… ‘If we postpone getting the license, it’s perfect…’ Perfect for what?” Julian went silent. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. “Perfect so Chloe can actually relax and enjoy the trip. She’s been terrified that once we’re legally married, the friend group is going to fall apart.” “So you wanted to postpone it all along?” “It’s just one week. We’ll go to City Hall as soon as I get back. It changes absolutely nothing.” “Did you start the poll too?” “Yes.” “You asked everyone to vote on whether I should go, just so you could show me the results?” “I wanted you to see that I wasn’t the only one who thought it was a bad idea for you to come.” He even softened his voice. “Maya, you always complain that I’m not honest. This time I was completely honest, and you can’t handle it.” I nodded slowly. “I can handle it.” Julian relaxed visibly, assuming I had finally decided to be a “good girl.” I pulled the envelope with the old train ticket out of my purse and placed it on the table in front of him. “Then let’s vote one more time.” “On what?” “The question is: Should Maya marry Julian?” I raised my hand high. “My vote: Against.” I wrenched my wrist out of his grip, stood up, and walked out. Julian didn’t chase after me. He just called out in frustration, “Don’t go too far, I have an early train tomorrow. We’ll talk when I get back.” Just before the restaurant doors closed behind me, I heard Mark whisper, “Is she seriously calling off the wedding?” Julian scoffed. “She loves me too much to actually leave.” The doors shut. He had no idea that my train to Austin was leaving in twenty minutes.

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Twenty days before our wedding, my fiancé’s friends invited us on a camping trip in the mountains. When we arrived at the site, they announced we would draw lots for the tents. I drew a single sleeping pad. My fiancé, Arthur, and his childhood best friend, Mia, drew the only two-person tent. I looked at Arthur, but he just brushed it off. “Don’t take it personally. It’s just a random draw. I’ll make it up to you next time.” That night, my single tent started leaking. I went to Arthur’s SUV to grab a dry towel. Through the slightly cracked car door, I heard Mia’s voice from inside. “If I hadn’t left for overseas that year… would you still have gotten together with her?” It took Arthur a long time to answer. “There’s no point in asking ‘what if’s now.” The next second, my phone buzzed. A message popped up in our camping group chat, then was instantly unsent. But I saw it clearly. [She’s occupied Mia’s spot for way too long. Let her soak in the rain for a bit. Builds character.] The person who sent it was Arthur’s best friend. I gripped my phone, my nails digging deep into my palms. Since there was no place for me by their fire… I guess I would just stop trying to stay warm. … “What are you doing standing out there?” The car door opened a bit wider, and Arthur’s voice drifted out, mixing with the sound of the rain. I tightened my grip on the dry towel I had just pulled from the trunk. “My tent is leaking. I came to grab a towel.” The car was silent for two seconds. “Now that you have it, hurry back. Don’t stand out there in the wind.” His tone was completely steady. “Mia just fell asleep. Don’t wake her up.” I lowered my head and gave a small, bitter smile. “Okay.” Just as I turned around, I heard Mia shift inside the car, mumbling something in her sleep. Arthur’s voice instantly softened into a gentle whisper. “It’s okay. I’m right here.” The rain was pouring down harder now. My single tent was pitched on the very edge of the campsite, and the zipper was broken halfway up. Water seeped through the gap, completely soaking my sleeping bag. I sat on the thin foam pad, drying my hair with the towel. My phone screen was still stuck on the group chat where that message had been unsent. I didn’t cry. I didn’t throw a fit. I just felt a little cold. I opened the camping app and went to my bookings page. I selected the rental for the campsite and all the equipment for the remaining four days of the trip, and hit “Cancel.” A system prompt popped up: [If canceled, the campsite will be cleared by 2:00 PM tomorrow.] The rain didn’t stop until the early hours of the morning. By the time the sky finally started to lighten, the downpour had faded into a drizzle. People started moving around the campsite. Mark and Jason were the first to crawl out of their tent. “Whoa, you’re up early.” Mark stretched, his eyes dropping to my soaking wet pants. “Rained pretty hard last night, huh? Did your tent hold up?” “It was fine.” I stood up and started rolling up my drenched sleeping bag. Arthur and Mia stepped out of the SUV. Mia had Arthur’s black windbreaker draped over her shoulders. Meeting the gossipy stares of the group, Mia cleared her throat. “The tent was too freezing last night, and Arthur said the car heater was warmer.” “So we just decided to sleep in the car at the last minute.” Only then did she finally notice me. Seeing my wet pants, she put on a look of exaggerated shock. “Oh my gosh, Maya! Why didn’t you come squeeze into the car with us last night?!” Arthur walked over and handed me a freshly brewed cup of hot milk, frowning slightly. “Didn’t you come grab a towel last night? How did you still end up looking like this?” I ignored him, turning my back to pack up the foam pad. Arthur set the milk down on the folding table, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice. “We all agreed on the drawing lots rule. You drew the single tent. There was nothing I could do.” Right. Nothing you could do. When Mia was cold, she got to sleep in the heated car. When I slept in a leaking tent, I had to “respect the rules of the game.” It was almost laughable. Seeing my dark expression, Arthur took a step closer, softening his tone. “When we get back, I’ll take you to buy that jewelry set you’ve been hesitating to get. Consider it an apology.” He always did this. A slap across the face, followed by a piece of candy. But I didn’t need it anymore. I zipped up my backpack and shook my head. “Don’t bother.” Arthur looked at me, a flicker of scrutiny in his eyes. He probably thought I was being far too calm. “Alright, let’s just eat breakfast. We’re hiking to Butterfly Valley after this.” Mark yelled from the cooking station. “Maya, where’s the coffee? Mia needs her morning coffee.” I pointed expressionlessly at the storage bin next to me. “Get it yourself.” “Why does this coffee taste so sour?” Jason took a sip and grimaced. I sat on a small camp stool by the fire, scrolling through the cancellation confirmation on my phone. I didn’t react at all. Mark rolled his eyes and carelessly slammed his cup onto the table. “Maya, next time can you buy dark roast beans?” “Mia isn’t used to this fruity, light-roast sourness.” I locked my phone screen and looked up at him. “I bought these beans for myself.” Mark froze. In the past, to fit in with them, I meticulously memorized everyone’s preferences. I acted like a perfect personal assistant, trying to win over Arthur’s friends with endless little details. But in the end, they just felt entitled to my servitude. Arthur walked out of the tent holding Mia’s thermos. Sensing the tense atmosphere, he frowned. “What’s going on?” Mark let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Maya says she bought the coffee for herself. I guess we’re not worthy of drinking it.” Arthur’s frown deepened, his eyes locking onto me. “It’s just a cup of coffee. Do you really need to give everyone an attitude over it?” I looked right back at him. “I’m just stating a fact.” The air turned icy. Just then, Mia walked over, shaking her foot playfully. “Arthur, my shoelace came undone.” Arthur instantly dropped his glare, crouching down in front of her. His movements were intimate and entirely natural. He had never once tied my shoes for me. I turned my head away, a self-deprecating smirk tugging at my lips. Whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. He could treat whoever he wanted however he wanted. It was none of my business. After tying the knot, Arthur clapped his hands together. “Pack it up. We’re heading to Butterfly Valley.” Everyone started gathering their gear. Jason pushed a massive backpack toward me, demanding with absolute entitlement: “Maya, you carry the cooler bag with the sandwiches and fruit. We’ll take the canopy and the stoves.” I looked at the bag. It weighed at least ten pounds. I gave a dry laugh. “It’s too heavy. I’m not carrying it.” Jason stared at me in shock. “You always carry it.” I met his gaze coldly. “Well, today I don’t want to. Is that a problem?” Arthur walked over, lowering his voice. “Everyone is pitching in. Why do you have to pick a fight right now?” Me? Pick a fight? I almost laughed out loud. So me acting like their personal maid was just the expected baseline? And the second I refused, I was the one starting a fight? I looked the man I was supposed to marry dead in the eyes, enunciating every word. “Jason, I was soaked in the rain last night. I am running a fever.” Yet my own fiancé hadn’t offered a single word of concern. Arthur stared at me for a few seconds before finally letting out a long sigh. “Why are you so fragile?” “Fine. I’ll carry it. You walk empty-handed. Happy now?” He swung the heavy cooler onto his own back, then reached over and took the small water bottle right out of Mia’s hand. “Mia, stay close to me. The trail is rough.” Mia smiled sweetly. “Thanks, Arthur.” The group started making their way up the mountain. I walked at the very back, watching the six of them laughing and chatting ahead of me. They were an impenetrable, tight-knit clique. And I was just the pathetic clown who had repeatedly smashed my own head against a brick wall, desperate to be let in. I used to be so stupid. Thankfully, I was finally awake. My phone buzzed. It was a message from the campsite manager. [Ma’am, your refund has been processed to your original payment method.] [We will arrive at 2:00 PM sharp to clear the tents and collect the remaining equipment.] When we stopped to rest halfway up the mountain, Arthur and the guys gathered around to pass out the sandwiches. From start to finish, no one remembered me. “Whoa, Arthur, look at that tree.” Jason suddenly pointed at an old, massive locust tree nearby. I followed his finger. It was a thick, ancient tree, its trunk covered in moss. “I can’t believe it’s been so many years, and the carving is still there.” Mark walked over and pulled away a vine covering the bark. I stood up and slowly walked closer. On the shaded side of the trunk, a line was carved deeply into the wood. It was Arthur’s and Mia’s names. The carving was deep. Even though the edges had been smoothed by time, the letters were unmistakable. I stood in front of that tree, staring at the carving for a very long time. The area around us suddenly went dead silent. His friends seemed to realize someone had slipped up. They exchanged nervous glances. Arthur walked over and stepped deliberately between me and the tree. “Don’t look at it. We were just kids messing around.” Mia walked up from behind him, looking at me with a bright smile. “Maya, we carved that when we went camping here at eighteen.” “Arthur even said he was going to marry me back then! But it was just a joke. You’re not mad, right?” Eighteen. I met Arthur during the second semester of my freshman year of college. I chased him relentlessly for three years. He was always cold and distant. It wasn’t until our senior year that he suddenly agreed to go out with me. I thought my persistence had finally won him over. It was only today that I finally understood. Our senior year of college was the exact same year Mia left the country to study abroad. He hadn’t been moved by my love. He just needed a convenient, obedient placeholder. I offered a thin smile. “You said it was a joke yourself. Why would I be mad?” Arthur seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He reached out, grabbed my wrist, and squeezed it gently. “There’s no point bringing up the past.” I looked down at his hand. His fingers were long and warm. This used to be the touch I craved more than anything in the world. But now, it just made my stomach churn. I slowly, deliberately pulled my hand out of his grip. “I’m going to go wash my hands.” Arthur’s hand grabbed empty air. He kicked a pebble on the ground, clearly annoyed. “I already explained it. What more do you want from me?” I didn’t answer. I just crouched by the stream, washing my wrist over and over in the freezing water. Mark walked over and handed me a tissue. “Maya, Arthur’s just got a temper, but he really does care about you.” “Mia grew up with us. We’re all just used to protecting her.” “Just try to be understanding, okay?” Understanding? For the past three years, those were the two words I heard the most. Be understanding of Arthur’s coldness. Be understanding of his friends’ hostility. Be understanding of the fact that he broke every single rule he had, just for Mia. I expressionlessly crumpled the wet tissue into a ball and tossed it into the trash bag. “I’m very understanding. That’s why I’m giving them all the time in the world.” I was officially resigning from this crowded, humiliating relationship. Mark didn’t catch my drift. He just laughed and patted my shoulder. I hadn’t noticed when the sky had turned dark. The wind howling through the valley was picking up. A weather alert popped up on my phone. [Severe thunderstorms expected in the western mountainous region within the hour. All hikers are advised to evacuate immediately.] Black storm clouds rolled over the ridge, and the wind whipped the leaves into a frenzy. “It’s gonna pour.” Jason looked up at the sky, his face pale. Arthur made a split-second decision. “There’s a limestone cave up ahead. We’ll shelter there until the rain dies down, then head back to camp.” Everyone quickly started moving toward the cave. Mia, walking right beside Arthur, suddenly shivered violently. “Arthur, the wind is so strong. I’m freezing.” Arthur stopped in his tracks, glancing at her thin windbreaker. He turned and looked directly at me. “Go back to the campsite.” “Grab Mia’s red waterproof jacket. It’s in her tent.” He pointed back down the mountain. “She can’t handle the cold. My jacket won’t be enough for her.” I looked at the black, churning clouds swallowing the horizon. My hands curled into tight fists inside my pockets. “The storm is going to hit any minute.” Arthur frowned. “The campsite is a ten-minute walk from here. If you walk fast, you won’t even get wet.” Mark chimed in right on cue. “Yeah, Maya, just run down and grab it.” I looked at the five men standing in front of me. Every single one of them was wearing a thick, windproof jacket. But they insisted on sending me—the woman who had slept in the freezing rain last night and was currently running a fever—down the mountain right as a severe storm warning was issued. In their eyes, Mia was fragile porcelain that needed to be fiercely protected. And I was a weed. It didn’t matter if I got soaked. I swallowed the bitter, self-deprecating laugh rising in my throat and took a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll go.” Arthur’s expression instantly relaxed. “Go quick and come right back to the cave.” “When we get back to camp tonight, I’ll grill you those lamb chops you love.” I didn’t answer. I turned around and started walking down the narrow mountain trail. After about fifty feet, I looked back over my shoulder. Arthur was taking off his own jacket and draping it over Mia’s shoulders, shielding her as they hurried toward the cave. He didn’t look back at me. Not even once. I withdrew my gaze. The very last spark of hope in my heart was permanently extinguished. I didn’t go to the campsite. I walked straight to the paved mountain road where the shuttle buses ran. The private car I had booked earlier was waiting precisely by the curb. I opened the door and got in. “Back to the city, please.” “You got it, miss. Buckle up.” Not long after the car started moving, the sky opened up, and the torrential rain began. I leaned back against the seat and pulled out my phone. I opened the camping group chat and tapped Leave Group. I opened my contacts and dragged Arthur, Mia, and every single one of his four friends into the blocked list. After doing all that, I put my phone on silent and tossed it into my bag. Meanwhile, halfway up the mountain, inside the limestone cave. Gale-force winds whipped the rain directly into the mouth of the cave. “This storm is insane.” Jason rubbed his arms to stay warm. Mia, wrapped in Arthur’s jacket, was still shivering, her lips turning a faint shade of blue. “Why isn’t Maya back yet?” Mark peered out into the torrential rain. “It’s been almost an hour.” Arthur’s face looked grim. He pulled out his phone and dialed my number. The robotic operator’s voice echoed through the speaker: [The number you have dialed is currently busy.] “Why isn’t she answering?” Arthur frowned and dialed again. Still busy. Jason said, “The rain is probably messing with the cell towers. No signal.” “Should we just make a run for the campsite? This rain isn’t stopping anytime soon, and no one brought thick gear.” Arthur looked at a shivering Mia and gritted his teeth. “Let’s go.” The group braved the blinding storm, stumbling and slipping their way down the muddy mountain trail. A ten-minute walk took them nearly half an hour. But when they finally pushed past the tree line and looked toward where the campsite should have been… Everyone froze. It was empty. The grassy clearing where five tents had stood this morning was now nothing but a patch of mud. The tables, the chairs, the grills, the food—everything was gone. Even the rented off-road ATV parked by the tents had vanished into thin air. “What… what the hell is going on here?”

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